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thedamageofherdays · 3 years

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This week's (16-08-2021 - 22-08-2021) reading log is here. This week's reading log is super duper long and filled with lots of good things (my apologies for the long post, I really could not find a good spot to do a read more). I discovered some new favourites and re-read some old favourites and while I had an intense week personally at least the fics I read were absolutely phenomenal. I do recommend checking out the warnings as some fics are a bit heavier/angstier and you might wanna be prepared. Most of these fics are Stucky but there are a couple of other ships in between.

If you are looking for more fun and/or good things make sure to check out the @marveldisabilitycelebration as well to see all the awesome art, fics, meta, etcetera people created! And while I am mentioning events I am a mod for let me also just quickly mention that sign-ups for the @stuckygiftexchange are still open until the end of the month <3

Favourites are marked with a 🌻 Fics that are only available to AO3 users are marked with a 🔒 and Tumblr fics are marked with a 🍀

🌻 The Bends by dreamsinthewitchouse @dreamsinthewitchouse [Danbeau, side Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

Memory is not a house you can just walk back into after finding the key you thought you’d lost. It’s a thing you wade into and out of, rewriting it as it rewrites you.

It’s not without its rewards, either - recovering a memory about Maria and Monica, about her life, feels better than socking a thousand bad guys in the face, better than all the photon blasts in the world.

Then again, realising there’s still memories she can’t access, even after all this time, feels like drowning in space.

Not the one out there - the one inside her.

🌻 Sweet & Salty by musette22 @musette22 [Stucky, 3k words, Teen]

Idiots in love. That's it. That's the fic.

When life gives you lemons by moonythejedi394 @moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 34k words, Explicit] (11/15 chapters)

Or 13 Terrible Things to Do With Lemons Other Than Making Lemonade

Steve Rogers is a home health nurse. He works for an agency, which assigned him to the aging Winifred Barnes, the one and only Silent Era Hollywood darling. As her needs increased, she requested the agency assign Steve to her full-time. She could pay for it, so she got it. Steve then moved in with her, becoming her caregiver; he cooked, he cleaned, he managed her medications, he made sure she was comfortable.

Winifred's children treated him less than ideally. He was the help, after all. And then Steve had the audacity to go and turn out to be eldest son James Barnes's soulmate. No one saw that coming.

🍀 SamRhodey Tumblr Fic by ipoiledi [SamRhodey, ? words, Teen?]

“Wilson, this is Rhodey; Rhodey, Wilson,” Tony Stark says, and suddenly some six foot tall sexy guy is shoved right in front of Sam, and they both stumble a little, bumping into each other. This is a crowded party. “You guys have things in common, right?” Stark asks. “Uh, Army stuff. Talk about that. I hate wallflowers; stop wallflowering and talk to each other.”

Shorteralls by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 6k words, Explicit]

The first time Bucky ever saw Steve Rogers, he was struck by how Neanderthal-like his response was. It was immediately followed by a bout of mental scolding. The second time was just about the same. The third time, it was actually appropriate for Bucky to start a conversation with him, at which point he was determined to be the gentleman.

No such luck. Steve Rogers is, always has been and always will be, a relentless flirt. These days, Bucky's Neanderthal-ist feelings about Steve are consensual and highly appreciated. More so now that they're having a baby.

what the fuck are perfect places anyway by tigerlilycorinne [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

Steve clears his throat and stands. “Well, I should head in. I might want to begin packing.”

Bucky stills. “You won’t,” he says, trying to sound commanding. It only comes out uncertain. “Don’t.”

Steve shakes his head. “Maybe not tonight,” he says, and Bucky knows they’ll be discussing this again soon.

“Then stay. Play… play cards with me or something.”

Steve’s eyebrows jump up, his mouth tugging up in another of his bemused smiles that do things to Bucky’s insides, but he drops his hand from the doorway and steps back into Bucky’s room. Somehow, Bucky feels as if he’s won—not the war, just the battle.

Steve won’t stay forever. But he’ll stay for cards.

Steve and Bucky, on the run after Civil War (with a few alterations to canon), are laying low in Wakanda. But they can’t stay there forever.

🌻 honestly thought i’d be dead by now, but what you can trust is that i need your touch by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 105k words, Explicit]

Bucky is 37 years old; he’s unmarried, hasn’t had a Sub of his own, is definitely not ripped, comfortable at his job as an Advanced Practice RN at Brooklyn General ER, and just got his Five Years coin from AA.

Steve is 26 years old; he’s unmarried, his last and only Dom has Alzheimer's, he's worryingly muscular, uncomfortable in his job as the government’s poster Alpha for masculinity and strength, and worries more than he should about his BMI.

Unfortunately, Steve and Bucky meet initially in a not-cute moment. Bucky’s tired as shit thanks to the sudden alien invasion that shook New York and Steve is tired as shit because he hasn’t slept more than 20 minutes at a time in – well, since 1936, probably. Bucky’s Alpha instincts get irritated at the sudden presence of another "Alpha" into his territory and Steve’s suppressed submissive tendencies latch onto this grumpy bachelor Alpha and he only suppresses it further.

Bucky’s grumpiness and Steve’s duckling impressionism aside, both of them are a mess. But since both of them are a mess? Their messes seem to fit pretty well together.

Deep Sea Diving by Aida Ronan [Stucky, 5k words, Explicit]

Steve's wallowing in heat-related misery under a shade tree in Central Park when a man walks by in bright red booty shorts and a crop top. RIP Steve Rogers. It was nice knowing you.

honey, make this easy by steebadore [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

Bucky likes the way he looks. His silk button up with the tiny gold polka dots feels soft on his skin and is tailored perfectly; no pulling at his chest or belly. His hair falls in shiny dark waves and his skin is smooth and dewy. He looks expensive. He looks taken care of. He looks like Steve’s.

🌻 let's take it back to the start by howdoyousleep @howdoyousleep3 [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

How it all began.

This sleepwalking through my life. by barthelme [Stucky, 1k words, Explicit]

The internet is an interesting place and when Bucky came home (or, when he came to live with Steve), Steve did a lot of research. Apparently, it’s not safe to wake a sleepwalker. He assumes that waking a sleepwalker with traumatic dreams and PTSD is beyond just being frowned upon.

And he tells himself--has told himself--that this is safer for Bucky. That if he were to stop him and wake him up, that Bucky would be mortified to be slurping on his best friend’s cock. That all of the improvements he’s made would be lost, would be repressed, would be just--

They’d be back at square one.

So he lets Bucky do it.

🌻 the way i've been craving by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

"Lunch break at 12:30. My office. Hope you’re hungry…"

It’s the ellipsis that sends Bucky’s insides swimming warmly, his heart beating twice as fast against his ribs where he sits in class. Senator Rogers is concise, direct, to the point. Without an ellipsis this is lunch, this is a meeting. With it though?

This is a booty call.

nasty but classy by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 4k words, Explicit]

“No, you don’t have to know the purpose, that doesn’t matter. Nat showed me this challenge where couples drink a lot of wine and get drunk together but they can’t touch each other. And whoever touches the other first has to...has to give the other head.”

🌻 Put It on Repeat, It Stays the Same by giselleslash [Stucky, 20k words, Explicit]

Steve and Bucky have a one night stand that turns into a friends with benefits situation. A weekend snowed in at Bucky’s apartment brings to light how much that really doesn’t suit either one of them.

Greetings to the New Brunette by victoria_p (musesfool) [Stucky, 10k words, General]

"You said he should have a hobby. That it would help."

"I meant, like, knitting or coin collecting. Motocross, if he was feeling antsy. A baby's not a hobby. It's lifetime commitment."

🌻 Rogers & Barnes: Partners by triedunture [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

Steve and Bucky have to pose as a couple for a mission. Nat insists it really is the only option. She's checked.

The complication: unbeknownst to even Natasha, Steve and Bucky's friendship has been rocky ever since Bucky confessed his tender feelings and Steve left him out in the cold. Can asexual, completely-in-love-with-his-angry-best-friend Steve complete the mission and win Bucky's heart?

(The answer is yes. Yay!)

this will be our year (took a long time to come) by biblionerd07 [Stucky, 4k words, General]

Bucky's therapist is worried he's using Steve as a crutch and wants him to try going on outings without Steve. It wouldn't be terrible, honestly, if Bucky could just manage to open his mouth and say something to Steve.

I'll hold my breath by Little_Lottie (tfwatson) [Stucky, 8k words, Mature]

Sometimes Bucky’s hands flex in Steve's direction. Neither of them knows exactly why, but at least one of them has a hunch.

Bucky touches everything but Steve, even though Steve is all he really wants to touch.

Start from the Beginning by Mumble_Bee [Stucky, 13k words, Explicit]

What about a sex pollen fic where the pollen-ed one doesn’t remember getting hit in the face with a sex flower, and wakes up midway through the depollenating?

Or: the one where Steve wakes up on his back with a stranger buried balls-deep in his ass.

Match by emphasisonem [Stucky, 4k words, Mature]

The situation’s actually kind of funny from the right perspective, Bucky thinks as he reads the message for what feels like the hundredth time. He’s finally matched with a hot, funny guy. Tall and broad and clean cut. An absolutely breathtaking smile. Bucky’s walking wet dream. And he’s good. They haven’t messaged on the app, but Bucky already knows him.

He knows him because Steve Rogers is an art history professor at his university. His art history professor.

Best friends and married since childhood by StuckySituation [Stucky, 1k words, General]

Inspired by @/peterssquill's post in tumblr: "bucky and steve got married on the playground when they were like eight and though neither of them would ever admit it to anyone, even each other, they still consider it official"

~♥~ ♥~ ♥~

“Natasha, stop trying to set me up with every woman you meet, I’m-”

“Too shy? Too scared?”

“No, I’m-”

“Too busy? You’re mostly retired these days, not a good excuse anymore.” Natasha smirks and then drawls: “Or just too gay?”

Steve flushes at that, even if isn’t true -- he’s bisexual, not gay. “Let it go, Nat, I’m not looking for anything. I’m already married, for fuck’s sake.”

Clearly not what she expected. “What.”

Steve grimaces. He didn’t mean to tell anyone that, ever.

“Sorry, can’t talk about it right now!” he says and jumps out of the plane.

Nobody Should Be Alone on a Holiday by emphasisonem [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

“So, um-” Bucky begins speaking again, pulling Steve from his less-than-work-appropriate thoughts. The brunet has shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark slacks, and he’s shifting from one foot to the other as he smiles shyly. “I have a question for you.”

“Shoot,” Steve grins, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his broad chest. Bucky swallows deeply as one of his hands comes up to pull at the collar of his button-up, and Steve can’t help following the motion of his Adam’s apple.

“I was, uh-” Bucky continues- “That is, I heard you don’t have Thanksgiving plans?”

In which Bucky finds out that Steve's going to be alone on Thanksgiving and invites his coworker to spend the holiday with him.

🌻 It's Been A Long Season Through by thiccbuckybarnes @thiccbuckybarnesfic [Stucky, 49k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes is in desperate need of a change in scenery, which is why he makes the foolhardy decision to quit his job, leave his asshole of a fiance, pack up his life, and move to his grandfather’s old farm all within a single day.

He expects confusion, hardship, and maybe even failure. But love? He wasn’t expecting that.

Or, a Stucky Stardew Valley AU that nobody but me wanted and that’s ok.

oh, peach pit, where'd the hours go? by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 10k words, Explicit]

Can't see the forest for the trees.

Or, Steve learns that just because he and Bucky got their happily ever after, it doesn’t mean the past won’t come back to bite them.

I'll find my way by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 725 words, Teen]

Steve had watched Bucky fall, and nothing had been the same since.

AU-gust day 19: Daemons

special delivery by glim @glim [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

It's not that Steve's bad at taking care of himself when he gets sick; he just wishes he didn't have to all the time.

At least he can order most of what he needs online. That's some small comfort, that he can have soup and ice cream and everything else brought to his door.

at first chance i'd take the bed warmed by the body by spacebuck @spacebuck [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

This close, Steve can see exactly how beautiful his hands are. He’s never really noticed before, or at least he’s never really had a reason to notice, but the man’s hands are large, tanned like he works outside all day. There’s an endearing callus on the heel of one of his palms, and Steve can’t quite work out when calluses became endearing.

Steve pauses the video. Swallows hard. Casts his eyes around for anything that’ll keep his mind off the hands on his screen, off the words inked into those hands, the delicate shape of a bird’s wing, the curling edge of a vine.

He looks down. The name of the channel is right there, blaring the man’s name right into Steve’s brain until it feels like he’s known it all along.

Bucky Barnes.

OR: the one where Bucky's a youtuber who solves puzzles on camera, and steve's smitten and horny

🌻 Rock On! by millesable @marvelousescapism [Clintasha, 700 words, General]

“Hey, Romanoff!”

He lifted his hand, index finger and pinky finger raised, thumb out, all other fingers tucked. Their secret sign; their confession for the world to see, safe in the knowledge that the world wasn’t listening.

“Rock on!”

🌻 You Like the Way I Look by dontcallmebree @iamthe-wo-manwhocan [Stucky, 2k words, Explicit]

Bucky sidles up to him, hand boldly coming to rest on his chest. “What about you, big guy? Care for a dance?” Steve watches Bucky’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction, somehow already knowing he’s got Steve on the hook.

A decade out of the ice, Steve Rogers returns to New York. Reeling from a battle against the Chitauri, a night with the troublesome Bucky Barnes might be just what he needs.

Join the Rebellion by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 765 words, Teen]

Bucky knew he shouldn't be out after curfew, but he couldn't resist the urge. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew it was where he wanted to be.

AU-gust day 20: Dystopia

🔒 Five Days in December by mywingsareonwheels @mywingsareonwheels [Evanstan, 4k words, Teen]

“Shit shit shit shit...” muttered Chris to himself, glad that the sound of piped Christmas carols was drowning out his swearing amid the picture books. Most of the store was heaving even though it was Sunday, he’d been recognised at least three times, finding presents for all of his nieces and nephews was proving far more of a headache than expected, and he’d just sent a pile of copies of "Strictly No Elephants" tumbling off the bookshelf.

He scrambled about trying to pick them all up, and then dropped them again as someone bumped right into his backside. He lost his balance, caught himself against a bookcase, and a landslide of "Carter Is a Painter’s Cat" joined "Strictly No Elephants" on the floor. He yelped.

“Ah fuck, I’m so sorry… Chris!”

* * * * * * * * * *

London, December 2021. Amid cats, books, and the cold English drizzle, Chris finds everything he was hoping for and thought he would never have.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Reaching for Fire by dixons_mama @dixons-mama [Stucky, 7k words, Explicit]

Bucky has always felt a fire in his heart (and other body parts) when it came to his boss, Steve Rogers, but he's made sure to never feed those flames. When he finds out about Steve's second job, though, he's tempted to let that fire out.

i've been dreaming of a face like yours by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

Bucky is about to busy himself with making a small dinner for himself when he stops in his tracks at the figure drinking a cup of coffee in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and smirking at him.

It’s Steve.

“Surprise, sweet boy,” he says before setting his cup down.

Or, PWP reunion sex

🌻 Somewhere, Under Your Skin by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 16k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes treats himself to a one-night stand after having a very bad no good day.

The sex is good--great, even. Might be the best sex of his life.

But Bucky wouldn’t have slept with the guy if he had known that he was going to continuously run into him every day for the next fucking month.

Or, a Big Grump Bucky has a hot one night stand with a college kid who is popping up everywhere in his everyday life and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

(Written for HYBB Bingo Square: Grumpy Bucky)

i've played heartstrings before but not in your key by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 11k words, Explicit]

He glances down, seeing a folded couple of papers, before peering up at Bucky. The older man is biting his bottom lip, making it pretty and red. Steve wants to run his tongue across where his teeth are digging into his flesh.

"What's this?" Steve asks, setting his phone down, emails forgotten. Bucky shrugs and looks away.

"I dunno. You tell me, genius," he says, sounding bratty enough that it makes Steve's dick twitch in his pants. Jesus, there has to be something wrong with him.

Steve glances once more at Bucky, who now has his arms crossed against his chest and is pointedly not looking at Steve, before picking up the stack of folded papers. He opens them, seeing a collection of maybe five or six sheets of paper. His eyes immediately land on the list of familiar words with negative next to each one. -- Or, Steve Rogers is a jealous, possessive little shit that wants nothing more than to mark up his boyfriend and stake his claim. And Bucky knows it. (And he likes it.)

🌻 I'm Home (With You) by BonkyBornes @padfoot-and-the-marauders [Stucky, 2k words, General]

In any other circumstance, the apartment would've been perfect. But it was today, and the fact that he was here meant he wasn’t out searching. He knew they hadn’t had any leads for weeks and he knew Natasha was right; all three of them were exhausted and a break would do them good. It just felt wrong to Steve that he was comfortable while Bucky was still out there—somewhere. Probably cold. Probably hungry.

The knock came again. Sighing, Steve unwrapped his hand from the dog tags and remembered how to move. Cold wind and snow greeted him when he opened the door. The solitary figure was walking down the steps, collar popped against the chill.

“Did you need something?” he called.

The person stopped. They were still. And then they turned. *

Or, the Christmas Steve deserved after Winter Soldier.

The portrait by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 915 words, General]

Steve Rogers has a Gift. He can help people find their soulmates, all he needs is some art supplies, a quiet place, and eye contact.

AU-gust day 21: soulmates

Maybe A Muse by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 2k words, Mature]

When Bucky Barnes needs extra money, he’s appalled that his best friends think he should become a model for the art department on campus. Shy, nerdy, and socially awkward, he’s not sure that’s something he feels comfortable doing. Still, he needs money, and he likes the idea of becoming someone’s muse. The problem is he had no idea two things would happen. First, one of the students in the class is exactly his type; second, he has to model nude.

#my reading log #r's reading log #fic rec #stucky fic rec #fics recs #stucky #danbeau #samrhodey #longpost #long post #clintasha #evanstan

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silentexplorer18 · 3 years

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Pen & Ink Soulmates: A Kakashi Hatake Fic

Summary: A partner, they said. Someone compatible with you, they said. Lies. Or the story in which you sneakily convince Kakashi that soulmates aren't all that bad.

Pairing: Kakashi Hatake x Female Reader

Warnings: Soulmate AU, Writing on skin, Minor Violence, Implied/Referenced Torture, Abduction, Minor Injuries, Serious Injuries, Hospitals, Angst with a Happy Ending.

Word Count: 12,100+

Note: For clarity, this fic occurs over a relatively large chunk of time, but it might make more sense to pretend Kakashi joins the ANBU in later teenage years (though we could pretend two high-level Jonin could talk with such maturity at age 13 if we wanted to!). Basically, I didn’t stress a timeline too much, but I hope you still enjoy it as much as I do! :)

Read on AO3 ▪ Masterlist

Hi, soulmate!

Soulmate?

Are you getting my messages?

Let me know if you want to talk.

Can you see the moon where you are?

I found the prettiest flowers today at the market. I wish I could draw you a picture of them.

Do you like flowers? I have a hard time picking a favorite.

You’d been trying. The whole connecting with your soulmate thing was supposed to be exciting and invigorating, but so far it had only left you with the bitter taste of defeat.

A partner, they said. Someone compatible with you, they said.

Lies.

Apparently whoever was supposed to be on the other end of your soul connection didn’t care about the messages you sent. They weren’t as eager to speak with you as you were to speak with them. At least, that’s what you told yourself. The alternative was much, much worse; a fate you weren’t willing to consider.

You had a soulmate. They just weren’t ready to talk yet.

So, you threw yourself into training. Every swift movement and taunt muscle, every hit target and victorious sparring session, all the work left you feeling strong and powerful. When your soulmate met you, maybe they’d regret taking so long when they saw how hard you’d been working, how skilled you’d become.

Thankfully, you had a sparring partner that liked to keep you on your toes. Kakashi had been training with you for about as long as you could remember; he was your closest friend and greatest ally as you worked to become a talented shinobi. Of all the people in the village, he facilitated and supported your growth more than anyone. You could rely on him for almost anything (except for being on time).

But there was one problem.

Kakashi didn’t like talking about soulmates. You couldn’t blame him. Deep emotional connections wasn’t a topic he wanted to dwell on, not after everything that had happened throughout his still-young lifetime. So you kept the conversation civil, even as your heart desperately yearned to talk to someone about your sudden fear of being alone, your deep, unrestrained terror that there was no partner to your soul, no body to receive the messages you delicately penned on the skin under your wrapped arms.

But apparently there was.

You learned that roughly a year later, after many failed attempts and more destroyed pens than you cared to admit.

The amount of times you’d tried to contact your soulmate had dwindled, both due to the lack of response and the influx in your shinobi duties. Regardless, you still took the time to try every once in a while.

Usually, your messages were sweet or silly. A few times, you’d merely asked if anyone was receiving your carefully written words, begging to know there was someone out there for you.

But every sensible person reaches their breaking point. And evidently both you and your soulmate broke in very different ways on the same day.

Good evening, soulmate. I didn’t do much today, but I can give you a run-down if you’d like.

It was a game you’d started a few months into your attempts at contact. Pretending someone was there was much, much easier than thinking about any alternative. So you tried your best to leave messages despite how much it hurt.

Staring at your wrist, you considered the scribble of the letters, the handwriting you only tried to make semi-nice now. That was your soulmate’s fault; you were past the point of a perfect first impression. But what to write today? What could entertain your soulmate, maybe even draw them out? You weren’t sure.

When the first inky letter swirled across your skin, your heart leapt into your throat, and your pen dropped from your hand. Your thoughts of what to write were quickly forgotten. There was someone. There was someone! There was someone waiting for you!

You leaned forward, hand clamped around your wrist to keep it steady as the words appeared on your skin.

You’re putting us both in danger. Stop writing to me.

Well, that certainly wasn’t what you expected.

After all the waiting, after all the time, that’s what your soulmate was willing to give you? Your jaw clenched, hand releasing your wrist so you wouldn’t inadvertently snap it. What a jerk.

How dare your soulmate assume you were incapable! How dare your soulmate treat you like nothing more than a hindrance! How dare your soulmate act like you were some worthless flower that would be trampled over by a single breeze!

You clicked your pen, hand pressing just a skosh too hard into your skin as you carved a message back to whoever that jerk was.

I can take care of myself.

The reply came a few minutes later.

Good. I don’t want you in my life. Leave me alone.

Oh.

Years of waiting for a soulmate, and the one to finally show up didn’t want anything to do with you? Great, just great.

You closed your eyes, hands shaking as you drew your knees closer to your body. Alone. You were alone. No matter who was destined to be by your side, nobody would be there. The tears burned in your eyes, but you tried to keep from shedding them. You were a shinobi. You were strong. You were… alone.

No, no you weren’t. You still had Kakashi and Kurenai. You had Asuma when he bothered to chat with you. You weren’t totally alone. You had people in your life to keep you company. Hell, you were even supposed to meet Kakashi for breakfast tomorrow!

You went over your list of friends in your head, desperately trying to drown out the nagging voice in the back of your mind whispering that the person who mattered most would never want you.

Kakashi was late to breakfast the next morning. Even later than usual. You idly wondered if he’d been called on an emergency mission while trying to keep your thin soup down.

The events of the night before rested at the forefront of your mind, making your stomach queasy with the memory of the harsh words.

Your soulmate had washed them off your arm by morning, but the message had already been branded in your mind. There would be no forgetting.

When Kakashi finally deigned to arrive, he looked much worse than usual. It was hardly perceptible to the untrained eye, but you knew something was wrong after so many years of friendship with Kakashi. He was even quieter than he usually was, picking at the cold soup you’d ordered for him.

It had been spur of the moment to order for the both of you, a decision brought on by being too wrapped up in your own thoughts. However, Kakashi didn’t comment on your unusual gesture.

For once, something went your way.

After your relatively brief and quiet meal, you offered to walk with Kakashi to the Hokage Tower, desperately craving the fresh air. He accepted your offer with a half-hearted nod, and you fell into step alongside him, trying to keep up with his impossibly lanky figure.

“You’ve been going to the Hokage Tower a lot lately. Is everything alright?”

Hummed, the sound still gravely from failing to use his voice all morning. “They’re pushing me up to the ANBU.”

You froze. The ANBU? One of the most elite and dangerous positions that a Leaf shinobi could accept? Your best friend—the talent, the protector, the lost child inside willing to throw his life away for the sake of his home, for the people who had left without him—an ANBU?

Kakashi stopped a few paces in front of you, casting a distasteful look over his shoulder at your expression.

“I can handle it. Stop fussing.”

With quick steps, you joined his side again, clenching your fist in embarrassment. “I’m not fussing. I just wasn’t expecting it so soon.”

“We die young as shinobi,” he murmured, continuing his walk toward the tower in the distance. Suddenly, the structure appeared to be looming rather than protecting, and a chill crawled along your spine.

Of course shinobi died young. All bodies gave out eventually, and shinobi would fight until that occurred, regardless of whether or not it was to their detriment (it almost always was). But Kakashi was the most talented shinobi you’d ever encountered. He wouldn’t die young, you hoped. He had so much left to live for, even if he couldn’t see it through the haze of his own pain and guilt.

The remaining walk to the Hokage tower was silent. And afterwards, you took flowers to the memorial stone. You prayed for the dead. And just this once, you begged them to look out for the living, too.

The day Kakashi joined the ANBU, you knew. The matching tattoo colored your bicep in sweeping increments, a sharp red rattling your heart within your chest. The reality of your situation washed over you like the worst kind of genjutsu.

Your best friend was your soulmate. And he didn’t want you.

The realization left you shell shocked for a few days, unable to even speak or look at Kakashi. Even without the contact, your mind couldn’t escape from him. However, you eventually managed to safeguard your heart as best as you could. You wouldn’t tell him yet; something within you couldn’t handle that risk of rejection, especially when it would come from Kakashi. But you weren’t willing to throw away the lifetime of friendship the two of you shared. So you put on a smile and met Kakashi at his favorite restaurant, just like usual.

“You haven’t been here for a few days,” he noted as you sat down, watching you intently. “Everything alright?”

You shrugged, fingers trailing down the side of your glass. “Yeah, just wasn’t feeling up to anything.”

It was a partial lie, one Kakashi could easily prod into if he wanted to. But he didn’t. He let you be. And you relished in the way the conversation eventually grew normal between the two of you, right up until he rose from the table, leaving you to pay the bill.

Everything was normal. But you cried again that night anyway.

Life fell back into the usual pattern after that. There were times that you could almost pretend the weight on your shoulders wasn’t there. Kakashi was away on more missions with the ANBU, so you were able to bury your head in your training and missions and pretend nothing was wrong. At least, you could pretend until a pen caught your eye.

The words on your skin had been so brutal, and you hoped they were just because of the pain Kakashi had endured. You hoped it came from a place of love rather than hatred; perhaps Kakashi’s intention was protection rather than cold-hearted rejection.

At least, that’s what you thought until you found Kakashi sparring with Gai.

You tried your hardest not to invade their privacy, not to listen to words that weren’t meant for your ears, like the good friend you were, but Kakashi’s voice was too sharp, too defensive, to not draw your attention.

“—but it’s a waste of time, Gai. Soulmates are unnecessary. Especially for people like us.”

“You’re hiding from your future, Kakashi. Wasting all your youthful days that you could be spending with the one who will love you as much as life itself!”

Another failed attack. The clang of clashing kunai.

“A soulmate could only be a liability to me. You know what kind of missions I’m being sent on.”

“They’re your soulmate, Kakashi. Soulmates are built to work together. They fill the cracks like the best kind of glue!”

Kakashi scoffed. There was another clang, the gentle zip of shuriken on the breeze.

“I’d never love them anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“You’d say something so cruel—”

You turned away, unable to listen anymore. The pain pooled heavy in your gut. The message he’d written hadn’t been a reflexive, angry reaction. His beliefs were set in stone. He didn’t want you.

So, you held your chin up, resigned yourself to eternal loneliness, and pretended the whole soulmate dilemma didn’t exist.

If being Kakashi’s friend was the closest you could get, then you’d ignore the sting in your chest when you looked at him. You’d be his friend. Nothing more.

Your resolve lasted a few weeks.

There was whispering. There had always been whispering, but this day was much worse than usual. He’d been mocked, insulted, shamed. Openly. And aside from Gai, nobody had said a word otherwise. You couldn’t stand it, watching him mask the pain as much as he masked his own features. His feigned nonchalance couldn’t fool your perceptive eyes. You’d been watching too closely; you knew him too well.

Curled at your desk that night, you wrote a message on your wrist, scared of talking to him again but unable to leave him alone.

You’re a good person.

Hours passed before you received a response. It was curt, defensive, everything Kakashi carried to protect himself. You don’t know me.

But you did.

Although it was difficult to sleep, you tried your best not to toss and turn too much as you brooded over your feelings. Was it worth saying more? Was it worth risking the hurt, the rejection?

In the morning, you’d made your decision, especially after noticing his words had already been rinsed off your wrist.

Cleaning your own wrist, you wrote the message in your head a thousand times over, only hoping the words wouldn’t hurt you so much when they reached his skin.

You're a good person, Kakashi Hatake. I won't let you tell me otherwise.

Kakashi met you for lunch just like usual. You wouldn’t have found anything odd about the meeting, but he showed up on time. Apparently your message had rattled him enough to throw him completely off his rhythm.

Rather than comment on his early appearance, you just smiled as he sat down, choosing to dig into your meal. Kakashi followed suit, pulling out a book while he waited for his bowl.

Silence settled between you, and you let it. After all, you were trying to make the situation appear normal. The last thing you wanted was for him to figure out you were in on the secret that was bothering him. So, the two of you ate. You sipped your tea, glancing out at the people passing on the street until Kakashi finally broke the silence.

“My soulmate knows who I am,” he murmured, setting down his raman bowl.

You plastered on a smile, knowing you had to fake congratulations, had to fake knowing that he had, in fact, zero intentions of finding his soulmate.

“That’s so exciting, Kakashi! I’m glad you’ve finally found yours!”

He laughed dryly, scratching his neck. “It’s not quite like that.”

You tried to neutralize the way your expression dropped. Either Kakashi didn’t notice, nose stuck in his copy of Make Out Paradise, or he didn’t care. You bit your lip, brows furrowing before you could stop them. “How so?”

But you already knew the answer to that.

“I’m not talking to my soulmate,” he said curtly. “It’s not something that interests me.”

You shook your head, sighing softly. He’d never let anyone in, never let anyone close. Kakashi was too reserved for that, and you resigned yourself to the knowledge that he’d never care to change the fate he’d chosen for himself. For such a hopeless romantic, he had a terrible tendency to reject love.

“You’re so foolish, Kakashi,” you whispered, balancing the chopsticks on the rim of your bowl.

His eye snapped to your face. Though he appeared nonchalant, you could tell that he slightly bristled at your words. “You’re one to talk.”

“Mine won’t talk to me,” you pointed out sharply, eyes dropping to refold your napkin.

His expression softened minutely, but his tone stayed firm. “That isn’t what I meant. We’re shinobi, (Y/n). Love in our line of duty is fatal.”

Pursing your lips, you caught his eye again before dropping his stare. “Perhaps,” you murmured, knuckles straining in your lap. “But you can’t say it’s pleasant to live without love.”

He was silent for a moment as you both stared at anywhere but one another. Kakashi was ruminating under your words while you wallowed in the silent pain of listening to your soulmate openly deny your importance. It hurt, but you wouldn’t admit that, least of all not to his face.

Before he could speak again, Gai had clapped Kakashi on the shoulder, greeting him as warmly as ever.

You slipped out of the shop, enough money to cover both your meals pressed into the owner’s hand before either of the shinobi could realize you’d disappeared.

Although your conversation with Kakashi had stung deep within your chest, you appreciated the insights it gave you.

Kakashi Hatake was aware his soulmate knew his name. And he was terrified.

The fact that he’d brought it up at all was enough to tell you how jarring the event had been for him. That, and the way he responded at the mere notion of knowing his soulmate. He was like a cornered cat lashing his claws out in terror. He didn’t mean to hurt anyone, not his soulmate, not you. But in his desperation to protect himself, reinforce the walls he’d so meticulously crafted to fortify his aching heart, Kakashi Hatake was willing to scratch.

However, you weren’t willing to let it go that easily.

He was scared of having someone care for him. You were willing to start small in the hopes of changing that.

Along the curve of your inner wrist, you swirled the letters that would become the first of many.

Stay safe on your mission.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

Today is supposed to be cold. Wear an extra mask.

He didn’t. Worse yet, he chose to do the opposite. Although it was hard to tell, you knew his mask and undershirt were the spring/summer fabrics rather than the fall/winter ones.

The bastard was spiting you. Well, spiting his soulmate. So, unwittingly spiting you.

It was still irksome.

As the two of you wandered around the village, helped the farmers, and even took a leisurely stroll around the village perimeter “just in case,” you relished in the way Kakashi moved. It was obvious he was cold, regretting his unnecessary fashion stance.

But you couldn’t stand to see him cold.

He looked close to dropping to the ground for a rapid succession of push-ups just to rekindle some warmth. As smug as you were about watching him suffer, you weren't willing to let him perform a Gai for a small semblance of relief.

Swiftly, you unlooped your scarf, draping it around his neck unceremoniously. It wasn’t much, but the fabric was warm, and it would certainly help a little.

If only you knew how happy the gesture made him.

As the two of you walked back to the heart of the village, Kakashi walked a little closer to you than normal. And, for some reason, you didn’t really mind.

When Kakashi didn’t show up to lunch the following week, you weren’t surprised. You’d only just returned from a mission, and word of Kakashi’s travels had already graced your ears. He was heading to the Village Hidden in the Sand. For what, you weren’t sure. Some missions were still classified even for you.

Despite knowing how skilled Kakashi was, you still worried about him traveling alone through the desert.

The click of your pen hurt a little less when you clicked it now. It helped to know who your soulmate was. It helped to feel like he cared about you still, even when he so clearly loathed his soulmate.

Remember to drink some water today.

A few hours later, you were surprised to see a response scribbled across your inner wrist.

Yes.

Just one word but finally a positive one.

Rest when you can.

Kakashi stared at the words delicately placed on his wrist. His mission had taken longer than expected, and he was beginning to think his soulmate knew that.

Whoever they were, they must have been a shinobi like him. A high-ranking one, too, for them to determine the length of time he was supposed to be away for.

He’d been receiving one message per day. At first, it irritated him to no end. But now, he didn’t hate it quite so much, even if he often didn’t bother to reply. The messages were always harmless. Sometimes they were funny. Sometimes they were giving him advice, a little reminder meant—he assumed—to help him through the day.

While the sender certainly had the best intentions when sending the note, the message still left him irked. He was alone for this mission, and the sleeplessness and general strains of traveling had started to take a toll on him.

Only a day’s journey left until he could return home and try to shake the sand out of every nook and cranny of his backpack. Only a day’s journey left until he could sleep in a bed. Only a day’s journey left until he could go to dinner with the others. Just. One. More. Day.

He could make it. He had to.

Kakashi had been injured again.

The news swept through the village like a wildfire, and you showed up with two Make Out novels and a bowl of raman, nearly being knocked over by Gai’s comically large bouquet in the process.

Kakashi accepted Gai’s flowers with moderate amounts of grumbling and a few lackluster attempts to get him to leave. Eventually, he did, and it was just the two of you.

You filled the vase at his bedside with water, delicately stuffing as many of the stems as you possibly could inside the glass.

Kakashi watched you move around him, cherishing the silence. At his bedside, you unclasped your bag, pulling out the blindingly colorful books and the container of Ichiraku raman. After making sure the utensils were settled and there was a napkin, you turned back to Kakashi, just missing the warm expression on his face.

“You should rest,” you encouraged gently, “and eat up.”

His eye squinted playfully. “You fuss too much.”

You smiled, smoothing a shuriken printed blanket over the starchy hospital ones. It was yours, but it still smelled faintly of dogs and Kakashi and spice. Hopefully it would stave off some of his nightmares, having something that smelled vaguely like home.

“I fuss just enough. Now, don’t stay up too late reading. Some rest will go a long way.”

“You fuss too—” He yelped as you pinched his toe through the blanket, slinging your bag back over your shoulder.

“You’re lucky you have me as a friend.”

Kakashi’s expression softened, mind racing toward how close he’d come to death yet again. “Yeah, I am.”

He relished in the way that simple statement delighted you, watching the way your expression lit up.

“Get some rest,” you encouraged again, turning to leave him in the bright, quiet room.

As per your request, he did.

Although he listened to your advice, it was only marginally. In true Kakashi fashion, he’d talked his way out of the hospital after a measly two days of treatment.

His body needed more time, but Kakashi was always one to push himself.

Since the Hokage stalled sending him on another mission, something he both hated and appreciated, he occupied the following days in his normal rhythm. He trained privately, visited the memorial stone, and wandered the village nose-deep in supposedly trashy romance.

You’d caught him wandering around a few times, and even saw him lightly competing in a challenge against Gai.

The sight made your blood boil even though you knew it was Kakashi being Kakashi.

He had no sense of self-preservation, which wasn’t particularly helpful when you—his soulmate—were watching from the sidelines.

Did he even care that he could leave you all alone? No, probably not, your mind taunted. Kakashi didn’t care about soulmates; you knew that.

If only you could convince your heart not to care.

That afternoon, you let the letters curl across your wrist as you watched him do another training exercise with Gai, looking faintly more fatigued than normal.

Give yourself time to recover.

If he found your message, he didn’t care to respond.

Kakashi would visit the memorial stone in the morning; you knew how his routine worked.

He felt it fitting to visit them as often as he could, an apology for living the life they all should have lived.

You couldn’t blame him. You visited the stone often, too.

But you couldn’t today, not while you were traveling to the Village Hidden in the Sand with a scroll. So, you asked for a favor, scribbling on your wrist: Pray for mine, too, please.

He was starting to grow accustomed to your messages. A small part of you wondered if he kept an eye out for them. But that was silly. You were thinking about Kakashi. He probably was just reading his book when the words appeared, his wrist already in his line of sight.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

But it still didn’t dispel your excitement when the answer scribbled across your skin a few minutes later.

Sure.

He’d been taking on so many missions lately, wearing himself to the bone just to be a good shinobi. A part of you wondered if he was trying to avoid thinking about anything other than his shinobi world. That hunch didn’t stop you from worrying.

Soulmate or not, Kakashi’s actions would have worried you. He looked exhausted as he shuffled through his laundry. You’d brought him takeout from his favorite restaurant to hopefully get something other than rations in his stomach before he left on his next mission.

Who knew how long it would be before he drug himself in, requested another trip, and raced off to somewhere new. You would’ve thought he was avoiding you if it weren’t for the obvious delight in his eyes when you caught up with him outside Hokage Tower.

But there was a reason he was working himself to exhaustion. Possibly long-dead memories brought back to life that he couldn’t stand thinking about. You didn’t even want to know; you just wanted him to be okay.

A week later, you saw him walking through the village gates yet again. Back again. Planning to leave again. It was always the same, just relentlessly overkill at present. He was taking on too much, and one day he would slip up and regret it. You didn’t want that.

So you stayed behind the kiosk you’d been perusing, fingers untangling the wraps around your hand. It was a simple message, but you hoped it would help snap his mind out of whatever hole he’d buried it in.

Please don’t overwork yourself.

He didn’t respond. Not a word graced your hopeful skin.

But Kakashi caught you outside one of the stores in town and asked if you wanted to meet up for dinner that night. He would be around for a while, he said, but he was too tired to cook.

Despite trying to hold on to your resolve, a small part of you couldn’t help but hope he was staying because you asked him to. It was probably wishful thinking, but you were grateful for whatever force made him stay nonetheless.

I believe in you.

Kakashi scoffed at the message on his arm, printed in the spot where his glove met his sleeve.

He found it after a competition with Gai. Hardly anything worth fussing over, but his soulmate had still sent him encouraging words.

Had they been watching? Had they seen the fun (though he’d never admit it) that he and Gai had been having? Had they wanted to join in?

For a long time, he’d been able to avoid thinking about his soulmate altogether. Now, though, they’d found a way to weasel into his mind with the words swirling over his skin.

He wasn’t willing to consider whether or not he enjoyed it.

I worry when you’re reckless.

The message shouldn’t have stung Kakashi’s heart, but somehow it did. His soulmate was watching and worrying, hearing the stories about his travels. Whoever they were, they must have been a shinobi, too.

Were they okay with forsaking love in the name of war? Could they abandon emotions for the sake of duty? Maybe. His soulmate had never directly asked to be anything more than penpals, though even that notion was quite one-sided.

But the message on his wrist betrayed his soulmate’s strength. They worried about him. They listened for the stories and understood when something went wrong.

Kakashi couldn’t help but wonder if they were reckless, too.

If he never took the chance to know them, would he care if they threw their life away as often as he’d tried to? He wasn’t sure.

The next Make Out novel comes out today. I reserved you a copy at the Northern bookstore. It’s less crowded.

Kakashi didn’t understand why his soulmate was being so nice to him. Not after his harsh words at the beginning, not after his sparse replies and general lack of interest. But whoever they were, they were trying, and he had to admire that.

At first, he was surprised his soulmate was not only fine with him reading erotic novels in public but also encouraging it. But, then again, his soulmate was meant to be compatible with him, right?

There would be butting heads, of course. All soulmates lost the honeymoon stage eventually. But this seemed deeper, warmer. His favorite book in a quiet shop on his day off. It was kindness. And it felt both strange and wonderful.

He vaguely regretted not doing anything for his soulmate. Though, maybe they were okay with that. Maybe they enjoyed being alone, just like he did.

Maybe if he kept lying to himself, he’d continue to enjoy it.

But crouched in a tree a few hours later, he couldn’t shake the gratitude deep in his chest. The novel was amazing. And he wouldn’t have been able to get his hands on it if it weren’t for his soulmate’s generosity.

Two words.

Thank you.

Kakashi had arrived home from another long mission. Although unscathed, his clothes were a mess. Dirt and mud clung to his legs, dried blood was smattered across his upper body, and a few rogue twigs and leaves stuck to him in strange places. He needed a shower. Desperately.

But something within Kakashi was restless, and he chose to wander around the village absently.

Something must have happened for him to look so dazed and unattached, but you tried to avoid asking anything direct in public.

Instead, you hopped beside him, catching his arm with the tips of your fingertips. He hummed in response.

“You just got back, right, Kakashi?”

He hummed again. “Yep.”

“Have you bought groceries?”

“No... Why?”

“A bunch of us are going to dinner tonight. You should come. It’s been a while since we’ve all been together.”

He inspected you for a long moment, and you could tell what he was thinking. The laugh bubbled in your throat before you could help yourself. “It’s Iruka’s turn to take Gai home, don’t worry.”

He stared for a moment longer before nodding slowly. “Okay.” Another small, dazed nod. “I’ll come.”

You couldn’t hide your smile as you told him the establishment and the time. That alone made Kakashi’s mood improve, though he’d never admit that aloud.

An hour later, though, he was still wandering around the city absentmindedly. So you figured his soulmate could take matters into their own hands.

Blood in your hair? Isn’t that a bit macabre?

He replied an hour later.

No.

But the next time you saw him, he was dressed in a new uniform. Not a single pristinely white hair was out of place.

If it hadn’t been for Anko talking your ear off about her last mission, you almost could’ve imagined that you and Kakashi were on a date.

It was the closest you would get, a clean vest and all.

But when Asuma blew a puff of smoke and Kakashi glared disdainfully from across the table, any hopes of romance slipped through your fingers.

You were friends. Close friends.

And you refocused on Anko’s story in the hopes of forgetting the state of your friendship with Kakashi for the span of a few minutes.

Every little glance he sent your way certainly didn’t help.

Nor did the way he offered you the last bite of his cake as a thanks for paying for his meal yet again.

Damn, you were in deep.

Be safe on your mission.

His reply came a few minutes later.

Yep.

Although it wasn’t much, the gesture made you smile. It seemed almost like he was waiting for your message, like he’d been checking as he and his companions wandered down the road.

You told yourself it was wishful thinking, but the word scribbled on your wrist in his handwriting warmed your heart all the same.

You’d forgotten. The mission had been too complex, your mind too preoccupied. You’d forgotten to write to Kakashi.

A part of you distantly wondered if he cared, if he even thought about your messages.

He’d started to reply on occasion. It was never more than a quickly scrawled, single word response, but it was still better than the total isolation he’d given you before.

You couldn’t say it was great, or that the two of you talked as soulmates. But it was relatively amicable. And that was a much better foot to get off on than the first time he’d responded to the words you’d scribbled words across your arms.

Things were okay.

And although you had a few scrapes and scratches from your mission, that had gone okay, too.

When your team settled in a clearing for the night, tent built and fire glowing, you drifted off, too exhausted to think of sending a scrabbled love message to Kakashi.

But he hadn’t forgotten about you.

Although you assumed he wasn’t paying attention, Kakashi was one of the best ninja in the Village Hidden in the Leaves. He paid attention to everything, despite his usual nonchalance.

He noticed immediately that his soulmate hadn’t written to him.

After weeks of at least one little message per day.

And he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was terrified. Had something happened to you? Were you injured? Could it be worse?

The idea of soulmates may have left him feeling disgruntled, but your messages had burrowed a home in his heart.

He wasn’t ready to give you or your messages up yet.

So for the first time in a long time, he wrote a real message.

You’re late. Doing okay?

As you watched over the dying flames several hours later, an early morning guard for your teammates, you stared at his words, tracing a finger over the scraggly characters.

Late.

You knew he wasn’t talking about your mission because the four of you weren’t due back for another two days. He didn’t know your identity. That only left the messages…

Was he treating this as a check-in?

You rolled your eyes, chuckling. Leave it to Kakashi to care more than he let on.

Got lost on the path of life. You?

Kakashi stared at your message. He’d been perusing his favorite bookstore for spare copies of the Make Out series’ novels, sleeve suspiciously cuffed and waiting for a reply, when the words had swirled across his skin.

And he laughed. Warmly and purely. Because you’d stolen his line.

You knew him. And maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing if you would continue to make him laugh so openly.

Surprised with himself, he clicked his pen, words scribbling across his skin before he had the chance to doubt himself.

Glad you’re alive.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start. An admission that he wasn’t as dismayed by the soulmate thing as he let on. And you arrived home from your mission absolutely beaming.

You were able to catch Kakashi for lunch before heading off on your next mission with Kurenai. The food was filling, and the conversation was nice. Funnily enough, he was supposed to leave for a mission with Gai the next day. No rest for the shinobi apparently.

Kakashi waved at you as you walked away, and you smiled to yourself. Even if you didn’t have your soulmate by your side, at least you still had some connection to Kakashi. Being by his side was worth the dull ache it left in your heart.

But you would be without it for the next few days. Although you and Kurenai were leaving for no more than two days, Kakashi and Gai would probably be gone most of the week. Part of you hated when Kakashi was away, but part of you enjoyed getting to write to him more often. When he was away, you could be a little less secretive as you scribbled down messages throughout your day in the village.

But, for the time being, you’d focus on the mission at hand.

It was a standard case of bandits in the woods. At least, that was what the scroll had described the mission as. However, as you and Kurenai crept through the dense forest, something felt off.

No matter how far the two of you traveled, the quiet whisper of wind in the leaves greeted you. Despite your speed and silence, you couldn’t sense any animals or hear anything suspicious. Bandits would have left campsites or trash or, hell, even footsteps. But nothing greeted your senses, not even traces of animals. These weren’t ordinary bandits.

Your suspicions were confirmed when eight people jumped from the brush, attacking with a swiftness you hadn’t anticipated. Their presences had been completely concealed.

Kurenai lept to your left, and you lept to the right, sending three shuriken through the air to hit the nearest attacker. While your attack worked slightly, you immediately had to jump again, barely catching Kurenai rushing off through the trees.

This was the failsafe plan; if you got caught, you’d separate far enough that you couldn’t catch one another in the crossfire of your attacks.

But you were outmatched. Whoever these “bandits” were, they were extremely skilled in capturing and securing enemies. One moment, you were wielding a fire jutsu. The next moment, your vision had gone dark.

Capture wasn’t the only thing the bandits appeared to be skilled in. Upon waking, you’d been tied to a chair with restraints stronger than you could break. The room was dark, probably somewhere underground, and you realized you had no idea how long you’d been unconscious. Was Kurenai okay? Had she been captured, too? What did these people want with you?

None of that mattered, not when the first blow had landed across your exposed side. Whatever these people wanted, you wouldn’t give it. So, you took a deep breath, clenched your teeth, and shut out the world. Your village was valuable to you. The people there mattered to you. And you’d follow your training to the letter, or you’d die trying.

Whether it had been hours or days of torture, you weren’t sure. All you knew was that everything hurt, and your vision was starting to go blurry. Despite that, you hadn’t relented. No matter what they threw at your body, no matter what manipulation they tried to play with your mind, you wouldn’t budge.

At the end, at least you’d make the Village Hidden in the Leaves proud.

But there was something that was missing, something you wanted to do before you died, even if it was just selfish, even if it was just a foolish whispering of your heart. You wanted to be buried somewhere your friends could visit. You wanted everyone to know about your end, to know what had happened, to never worry that you were out there somewhere.

You wanted Kakashi to find peace in your death, not guilt.

So there was a secret you had to spill.

You slid the pen from your pocket, clicking it open as you stared at your arm. Slowly, you undid the bandages, greeted once again by blank skin. Swirling the pen across your forearm, you wrote the rough coordinates of your capture on your arm. It wasn’t exact, but hopefully it would be good enough. Then, you wrote the words “urgent note” on your fingertips and wrist, hoping that would encourage him to look. Below the coordinates, you wrote: Abducted by enemies. Not relenting to torture. Getting weak. Send help if possible. Or someone to collect my body. Look at leg later. —(Y/n).

Carefully, you rewrapped your arm, moving to roll your pant leg up. Your hands were shaking, and it was hard to hold the pen, but you had to write to him.

They said the end is coming, and I'm starting to believe them. It hurts a lot. So I'm writing to you. I know you didn't want to deal with the whole soulmate thing, but I couldn't stay away. You were just too wonderful to not stand beside. I'm sorry I didn't leave you be, didn't respect your wishes. But I wanted to be a part of your life. I'm being selfish by writing to you now, but you're the one person I've always been selfish with, so I'm not going to stop at the very end. Please don’t be upset with yourself if I don’t make it.

Your eyes were watering now, vision slightly blurry. Had they drugged you, too? Or was it just the injuries?

I just want you to remember that you’re loved. That I love you. That you deserve to be loved. Please don’t forget that when I’m gone.

Whatever else you wanted to write would not be written. Quietly, the pen clattered out of your hand, and your head slumped forward.

Time was up.

Your vision was blurry when your eyes finally blinked open. You were cold, but the ache in your muscles was a reassurance that you were very much alive. Alive and in a hospital, it seemed.

There was a crinkle beside your bed, and you looked up to see Kakashi thumbing through his book.

What had… You blinked, trying to recall exactly what had happened.

There was a mission… you’d been on a mission with Kurenai… right. Then… and then... you were abducted. Yes, you could remember that now. And Kakashi… you remember thinking about Kakashi. Gosh, everything was so damn hazy. You shifted, wincing as you tried to sit up.

“Hey!” His voice was cheerful, and you blinked up at him in surprise at the warmness in his tone. “Good to see you waking up!”

How had he known you were at the hospital? Had Kurenai… Wait, no. No. Hazily, you could recall writing coordinates on your wrist. They weren’t precise, so someone must have looked for you. You couldn’t remember being found. Everything after the last interrogation was too hazy… too confusing. But Kakashi had known… maybe Kakashi had looked for you.

“You made it in time?”

He hummed, closing his book with a thump. “Pakkun found you. Once I knew what to look for, I could rely on his nose.”

You nodded groggily, reaching up to rub your eyes. The ink was still on your wrist, visible due to your unwrapped arms. You’d forgotten about—

“Kakashi, I’m so sorry about the message.” You turned to look at him, eyes wide and embarrassed. “If I knew everything would’ve been fine, then I wouldn’t have—”

His hand rose, and you stopped, heart hammering in your throat. This was it. This would be the rejection.

“I’m glad I had the opportunity to save you.”

Of course. Because he wouldn’t leave a comrade behind; that wasn’t like him.

But that wasn’t the message you were referring to.

If he wasn’t going to bring up the love message, then you wouldn’t, either. “I’m grateful,” you murmured, looking down to finally see the treatment your body had undergone. There were marks everywhere, which meant Kakashi was marked everywhere, too. Marks on the soulmate that didn’t want you…

“I appreciate you waiting,” you forced yourself to say. Maybe he’d get the message and leave you alone.

Instead, he met your awkward sidestep with bluntness. “I figured we should talk.”

Your head felt like it was spinning, and you had the slightest sensation that you were going to be in the hospital for quite a while. It would be embarrassing to be rejected here; it would be embarrassing to cry in front of the nurses.

“Not now,” you croaked, hand scrabbling to grab the invisible cup of water at the bedside. Water, sake, medicine, heck, even the flower water beside you. Anything to push the lump out of your throat. Anything to avoid thinking about Kakashi’s rejection.

You were eyeing up the vase next to you as Kakashi stood, long legs moving to fill a glass by the sink. He handed it to you, assuring your fingers were pressed around the cup before he moved away.

You sent him a grateful half-smile before you swallowed the water like a shot, desperate to drown yourself in something other than your own awkwardness.

“Feel better?”

No, you really didn’t. Your head was still spinning, stomach still queasy. Whether it was from your injuries or Kakashi’s pointed stare, you weren’t sure. “I don’t want to talk about it today. Everything—” you coughed, trying to release the tightness in your throat. “Everything hurts.”

He nodded, humming low in his throat. “I’ll go get a nurse, then.”

You nodded shakily, debating whether or not you could escape from the hospital before he came back. The ache in your side told you moving probably wasn’t the best idea.

“But before I do, I have one question.”

Your head snapped to where he stood by the door, wincing as you did so. “Yes?”

“How did you find out it was me?”

You stared at him for a minute, searching his impassive face. He was one of the best shinobi this village had ever seen, and he was still impossibly clueless sometimes. Slowly, you rolled up your sleeve, revealing a roll of gauze. It was blue, unlike the starchy white medical gauze on your sides. You could fiddle with it; the fabric belonged to you. With nimble fingers, you untied it, letting it pool below your elbow on the bed.

Kakashi stared openly at the ANBU tattoo, and you watched the pieces click into place. He hadn’t even considered what a tattoo would be like for his soulmate.

“I see,” he whispered, fingers unconsciously twitching toward his covered arm. After a moment, he shook himself from his thoughts, gaze again becoming impassive. “I’ll go get the nurses.”

“Kakashi?” you called, shocked as the words left your lips. You hadn’t meant to call out for him, not yet, anyway. But he was standing there staring like you’d held up a practice dummy, focus radiating from him in waves. You had to say something. “Thank you. For saving me… and waiting. And thank Pakkun, too?”

Kakashi’s expression softened. “I will. Now, get some rest. You look exhausted.”

Though, rest was the last thing you would come close to receiving as the doctors gave you a full evaluation. Poking, prodding, and asking questions took up most of the afternoon. Although you tried your best to focus and take in all the information you were given about your physical state, your mind continually strayed to Kakashi. Did he hate you now? Did he want you out of his life? Was he waiting for you or just waiting to ask about the whole soulmates thing? You wished you could quiet the questions swirling through your mind.

That evening, you found a message scribbled across the back of your hand. Although his handwriting was still messy, it was obvious he took his time. He wanted it to be legible.

Get well soon, (Y/n).

It was the first time your soulmate had written your name on his skin. He knew you now. There was no going back to the secretive messages and hidden assurances. Everything was out in the open; Kakashi knew exactly who you were. He knew everything.

That night, you wept.

You wept for the injuries that would bar you from upcoming missions. You wept for the bitter sense of death that had grazed your fingertips. You wept for the compassionate message on your hand. You wept for the fear of being alone again.

You wept for Kakashi and all that he meant to you.

Between the crying and the medical evaluations the day prior, you slept well past the time you’d typically rise. Consequently, it was well past the opening of visiting hours, too.

Kakashi arrived before you woke up and tucked himself into a corner with a book. However, he read very little. Instead, he watched the gradual rise and fall of your chest, comforted by the knowledge that you were still breathing.

When “urgent note” had appeared on his fingers, his heart had nearly stopped in his chest. When he read the message printed on his wrist, the sinking sensation had only grown. Fear consumed him more than it had ever consumed him before.

His head had spun with the realization that you were in danger, that you were his soulmate. Summoning his ninkin had happened in a blur. If he was being honest with himself, everything was a blur up until the moment he found you. That moment would live on in crystal clarity in his memory forever.

There are some moments in life too horrific to forget. Finding you unconscious on the floor of a dingy bunker, pen by your side, chest barely moving, would be one of those moments for Kakashi.

The only thing more reassuring than watching you breathe was watching your eyes blink open slowly and focus in on him. He could tell you were nervous about talking to him, and he knew why. The message still hastily scribbled on both of your thighs was more than an acknowledgement of the soulmate bond. It was an admission that you loved him, an admission that you believed in him, that you wanted to stay by his side.

It was also an admission that you believed he didn’t want to stay by your side.

He really needed to talk to you.

“Good morning,” he hummed, tucking his book back in his vest. Smiling, he moved to sit on the chair beside you, feeling it was appropriate now that you were awake. This close, he could smell the antiseptic on your skin, the overbearing flowery scent of the hospital lotion, and the faintest whiff of your shampoo still clinging to your hair despite the days it had been since your last shower.

“G’morning,” you mumbled, stretching lazily. Kakashi watched your movements, chuckling at the way you arched like a happy rabbit after a nap. It was cute and endearing, a movement Kakashi had gotten used to witnessing over the years.

Shifting the other direction, you winced, body instinctively jerking back into a ball. “Ow,” you grumbled, hand moving to put a little pressure on your side. With some effort, you managed to shift into a sitting position, still moving gingerly to somewhat satiate your aching limbs. “I thought I’d feel better today, but I guess not.”

Kakashi snorted dryly. “That’s a bit ambitious, don’t you think?”

You stopped rubbing your shoulder to stare at him. “What do you mean?”

What did he mean? Hadn’t the doctors told you? Surely they would have mentioned… Were you playing dumb or did you really not know? Kakashi stared at you for a moment, scrutinizing your confused expression, before his eyes dropped. He let out a breath, then another, trying to hide the pain blossoming in his chest.

He’d almost lost you.

“You were dying,” he said lowly, gaze fixated on his gloves. “By the time we got you back, we really thought you weren’t…” he shook his head, expression dark. “The medics thought you were already gone.”

It took a moment for you to respond. The doctors said your recovery was astronomical, that you’d been close to death, but the way Kakashi described it, so somber and broken, made the reality of the situation hit home.

You’d almost died. You’d almost lost everything you held dear.

You’d almost lost him.

Glancing back to Kakashi, you found him still lost deep within his thoughts. His expression was dark, fist clenched over his thigh, over what was intended to be your last message to him.

Carefully, you reached out and bushed a hand over his clenched fist. The action drew his attention back to you. “It wasn’t your fault,” you gently offered, stroking the back of his hand once more before pulling away. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that, but it’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.”

He huffed, scooting backward in his chair. “I should have got to you sooner! Protected you! If I’d asked, you could have sent me updates. I could have prevented you from getting hurt—”

“Will you stop with the narcissism!” you chided, wincing as you swung your feet over the edge of the bed.

He met your gaze, lone eye blinking once in surprise.

“I took the mission. I accepted the consequences of it. I knew what an infiltration would be like. I knew the chances of getting ambushed. You didn’t endanger me, Kakashi. You weren’t even supposed to be on that mission.” Your voice faded, soft and overwhelmed. “But you saved me anyway.” You ran your thumb under your eyes, catching the tears before they had a chance to fall. “So claim that. Stop… I need you to stop only claiming your failures.”

He clenched his fist, unclenched it, and nodded once. For the first time in a long time, you couldn’t read Kakashi’s body language at all. What was he feeling?

Part of you wanted to reach out and comfort him, but you didn’t. He’d made space between you for a reason. And as upsetting as it was, you were willing to honor that.

After a few minutes of silence, you plucked one of the flowers from the vase beside your bed. “Did Kurenai bring me the flowers?” You smiled, brushing a finger against the petals. “She accidentally picked my favorites.”

When you looked back up, Kakashi was staring at you again, cheek barely pinking over the edge of his mask.

He could read erotic novels in public, but you made him blush.

“Actually, I brought them.”

Freezing, you stared at him in surprise. “You did? How did you—?”

He flushed again, eyes fixing on the flowers rather than your face. “You buy pots of those every spring, but they always die because you’re out on missions. And you take daisies to the memorial stone a few times a month. You leave iris for your parents, and you bring peonies and cookies for the ANBU guards when you have meetings with the Hokage. And on the second Sunday of every month you’re both in town, you hide 100 tulips around the village for Gai to find.” When his eyes snapped back to yours, your shocked expression made him grow self conscious, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’ve, uh, been paying attention.”

“Why?”

He gestured to the room, pretending to misinterpret your question. “It’s so dull in here. I thought a little decorating wouldn’t hurt.”

You snorted at that, impossibly undignified but oh so delightful.

Of course Kakashi would stall now that he was here.

But… no. He was usually blunt when it came to bad news. So why was he stumbling through the conversation like he’d never spoken to you a day in his life?

Your face shot back to him at the realization, and he arched a brow under your scrutiny. Could he like you? Could you have a chance?

“Everything okay?�� he asked gently, tone much more serious than before.

You’d worried him.

Before you could respond, Gai burst into the room with the second largest bouquet you’d ever seen in your life.

“(Y/n)! I heard Kakashi was with you, so I figured I’d bring you some flowers on my way to challenge Kakashi to a shuriken throwing challenge!” He set the flowers—which balanced precariously due to their immense size—on your bedside table, giving you a dazzling smile and a thumbs up.

Kakashi sighed, “Well, Gai, I was just here talking to her—”

What if you had been interpreting Kakashi’s expressions all wrong? What if he didn’t like you? What if this was all his way of trying to stay friends? Although you hoped for something else, the fear of rejection clawed at your throat like a Shadow Strangle Jutsu. This was your chance. The chance to get out of Kakashi’s rejection. Gai was the perfect opportunity.

“You should go!” You chirped, smiling at them both.

“I… what?”

“That’s the spirit, (Y/n)! It would be a shame for Kakashi to waste his precious youth not enhancing his physical prowess!” Gai dropped to his hands, beginning to do push-ups on the floor of your room.

Ignoring the incredulous look Kakashi sent your way, you wriggled your fingers at his bag. “What volume are you on? I need something to entertain me while you lavish in your youth.”

Kakashi scoffed at your statement before fishing the Make Out Violence novel from his pouch. He dangled it in front of your face. “Is this what you’re after?”

You grinned, snatching the book from his hands. “This just so happens to be the volume I’ve been waiting for.”

Kakashi blinked in surprise, feeling his face grow warm again. “You read Make Out Paradise?”

You smiled sheepishly under his gaze, fingers tracing over the edge of the cover. “Really, it’s all your fault. It was so boring waiting in line to reserve that new edition for you. I needed something to do.”

Because that gift from his soulmate, that gift had been from you.

“And now you’re moving on to book two?”

Embarrassed but pleased, you grinned up at him. “I may have figured out why you’re so hooked on them.”

Kakashi laughed. Just a short huff, but still. Could you get any more perfect?

He was about to respond again when Gai grabbed his shoulder, already taking his ear off as he dragged Kakashi out the door.

You settled in with your—Kakashi’s— book, pleased for the reprieve but missing him all the same.

Delving into Make Out Violence was both a blessing and a curse. You lost track of time as you devoured the pages, and the story was so riveting that you barely thought about Kakashi. Though, every time you took a break, love—that sickening concept you didn’t even want to consider in reality—was at the forefront of your mind. So you dove into the novel again with renewed fervor, completely unaware that Kakashi had hopped through the open window. That is, until a warm voice interrupted your reading.

“Having fun?”

In surprise, you snapped the book shut, embarrassment washing over your expression. “A bit. How was the competition with Gai?”

Kakashi shrugged, dragging the chair he’d occupied that morning so he could sit directly beside your bed. “It was fine. Nothing out of the ordinary for Gai.”

“Thanks for the book,” you murmured, passing it back to him. “Maybe I can borrow another one of your copies again sometime.”

He took the novel, setting it down on the bed beside you, only to take your hand in his.

His hands were warm even through the gloves, and his fingertips traced over your skin delicately, as though afraid his touch would somehow hinder your healing.

“(Y/n), we need to talk.”

Despite only holding your hand, he could sense the way your entire body went rigid. “Kakashi, please—”

“(Y/n). I almost lost my soulmate this week.”

You bit your lip, trying to ignore the faint stinging in your eyes. He was right, you were being selfish. It wasn’t like you were the only one who had a terrible, terrifying week.

You just didn’t want to lose whatever you had with him.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you didn’t bother to mask the strain in your voice. He already knew how you felt about him. “We can be friends. Anything you want. I just… I don’t want to lose this. You. I don’t want to lose you. Even though I was being so selfish—”

“I read your message,” he said softly, gaze fixated on the bend of your wrist as your hand flexed in his own. “I’ve read it so many times,” he laughed, strained from holding onto unshed tears. “I’d get it branded on my body if I could. Parts of it, anyway.”

He shook his head, looking back to your face. He didn’t miss the shocked expression, nor did he miss the tears still frozen within your eyes. He shook his head again. “I can’t believe how lucky I’ve been, that it was you and you were here all along. And then you almost died and I…” He paused, gaze still tracing along the bend of your wrist.

“You..?” With bated breath, you watched his eyes, the pull of his lips through the mask, anything to give away what he was thinking.

“I can’t stand the thought of losing you. Not after how much you’ve grown to mean to me.”

Your heart thundered in your chest. Was he accepting you or rejecting you? Your breath shuddered over your lips, hand trying not to clench his too tightly. “What does that mean? For us?”

Kakashi leaned forward, pressing a masked kiss to your temple. “It means I want to take you for dinner when you get out of here. And—” he stood, letting go of your hand to walk toward the door. The sun was setting. Visiting hours were coming to a close. “Keep the book. I’d hate for you to be bored while I’m gone.”

With that, he vanished from your room, leaving you to wonder exactly what he wanted from you.

Tossing and turning that night, you couldn’t sleep, not with Kakashi’s words ricocheting through your mind. He cared about you, but he was putting distance between you. He was being aloof, just like the cautious jonin he was, but he was exposing vulnerable aspects of his soul to you.

Everything was so damn complicated, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep until you’d gotten an answer to the questions burning a hole in your tongue.

It took a few minutes to sit up, but clicking the pen against your wrist had become second nature to you after so many years. You just wanted to know what he was thinking.

Do you love me?

He scribbled a reply a few minutes later, and you wondered if maybe he was just as terrified as you were, if maybe he couldn’t sleep because he was thinking of you, too.

Not like you want me to, but I could. Someday soon.

The thought sent hope skittering through your chest, but you tamped it down. He hadn’t wanted you. He still probably didn’t want you. You were a liability. You were a danger to his way of life. You were—

Ink stained your hand, trickling down your arm, as you realized the pen had snapped under the strength of your palm.

Without a way to stand on your own, you stared at the drying ink, trying to think of anything other than the fear in your chest, the longing in your heart, the nervousness bubbling under the surface.

Kakashi was stuck to the wall beside your window a few minutes later, staring worriedly through the glass.

An ink stain. Of course, he’d worried something was wrong.

He’d been awake waiting for your reply.

He’d been awake because of you. For you. The thought made you dizzy.

Silently, he slipped through the window, crouching worriedly beside your bed. Whatever pretense of nonchalance he kept up during the day, he dropped it now, just for you. “Are you alright?”

You nodded once, stiffly, mind still racing with the situation. Your friendly banter from the morning disappeared, words dried up as your emotions increased tenfold.

A million thoughts rattled through your mind, but you finally settled on one. “You told Gai you couldn’t love me.”

He cocked his head, confusion furrowing his lone brow.

“You were… it was a training day. You were talking about soulmates. And you told Gai that you couldn’t love a soulmate, so it didn’t matter if you didn’t find them…”

Your eyes were watering, and you looked away until you felt the warmth of Kakashi’s fingers circling your own. His hand clung to yours with renewed fervor, though the interaction still held the same touch of softness that it always held when you were injured. Comfort. It has always been an attempt to comfort you, a silent word of compassion. But now that he knew you were his soulmate, would his gestures hold the same meaning?

His voice, coupled with a gentle tug on your hand, had you vanishing into his gaze yet again.

“Soulmates are supposed to be your other half, right?” he asked softly. “If you’re mine, then maybe the whole soulmate thing can work out.”

Even in the moonlight, you could see the blush peeking over the edge of his mask.

You’d stood beside him through thick and thin. You fussed. You took care of him. You let him take care of you. You bought books for him, and he watched your favorite movies with you. He took you out to your favorite restaurants, and you always paid for him. You trained with the strength of a hurricane, and you always kept him mentally and physically on his toes. But no matter what, you’d both been able to rely on one another. It wasn’t romantic love, not yet, but it was the closest thing Kakashi had ever experienced to romantic love. He was close to being in love with you, and the revelation of the soulmate bond had changed those feelings very little.

He’d always been on the precipice of falling in love with you. Now that he knew you and he were destined for one another, the proposition of falling didn’t seem all that terrible anymore.

“If it’s me, you think it’ll work?”

This time, he flushed fully, pinking to the edge of his hairline. “Yeah. You’re… you’re perfect for me.”

Then, it was your turn to grow bashful under his praise. Perfect. He thought this could work because you were perfect. Not perfect in general. Not perfect to him. But perfect for him, with all of your many imperfections.

He wasn’t in love with you. He wouldn’t say it yet. But he was falling, and that was impossible to ignore.

His words left you lost in another world. All this time, he was rejecting his soulmate for fear they wouldn’t truly be his other half. But you were his other half, and he could see that now. He could love you. He could see a future with you. He could—

Kakashi’s warm voice brought you back to the present, hand still gently squeezing your fingertips. “Did you hurt your hand?”

He cares.

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head. “No, just a little ink.”

Kakashi stood, striding toward the other side of the room. He washed his hands under the sink before returning a moment later, damp rag in hand. This time, he sat on the edge of your bed, hand enveloping your own.

With slow, delicate movements, he swirled the rag across your skin, stealing the ink from your skin almost as effortlessly as he’d stolen your heart. If only you knew how easily you’d done the same.

“I was so scared you’d hate me when you found out,” you whispered. His hand tensed under your own, but he didn’t stop his ministrations. You continued, “Since I kept talking to you, both as your soulmate and myself, I was so worried you would feel betrayed.”

“I did,” he murmured quietly. “At first.” He flipped your hand, wiping away the stray trails of ink that had escaped from your palm. “When I got the message, I couldn’t believe that you’d… after all this time, it was you. And when we found you almost dead, I thought the world was punishing me again, just like everyone else…” Looking away, he began wiping the remaining ink spots off his hand, leaving your fingers to fiddle with the fabric on his knee. “But on the way back, all I could think about was the things I’d said to you. How could you trust me after I so blatantly pushed you away? How could you look me in the eye and put your faith in me when I hurt you so deeply? The fact that you’d tried to stay by my side after everything, the fact that you put your faith in me to keep you safe, after all the things I’d said to you… you never betrayed me. You’ve been by my side all this time, and I want to be by yours. Completely.”

You squeezed his knee, searching his face for any sign of illusion. “Is this real?” you whispered. “I want this to be real.”

Kakashi smiled, eyes crinkling as he took your hand. You looked dazed and happy as you stared at him; he’d never encountered anyone else so stunning.

Before he could stop himself, he leaned forward, brushing a masked kiss over your forehead, then your eyebrow, and finally your cheek. The pressure sent sparks across your skin, and you squeezed his hand a little bit tighter.

He hovered over your lips, breath ghosting across your skin through the durable material of his mask. You leaned forward, nudging his nose with your own. It was a silent message that you wanted his affection as much as he craved yours.

His breath puffed against your lips once again, and his voice, barely audible, filled the minuscule space between you. “Would you mind closing your eyes?”

Instantly, you complied, proving to him yet again how lucky he was to have met you. You put your faith in him time and time again, and he promised himself in that moment under the moonlight that he would do everything he could to be as compassionate a partner as you had been for him.

One of Kakashi’s hands released from yours, and you faintly heard the brush of fabric against skin. Your stomach fluttered as you felt his breath on your face again, warmer and closer than before.

And then his lips caught against yours, a gentle press against your tingling skin. His hand cupped your cheek, and you melted against him. The scratchy blankets and the faint hoot of owls faded into the background. Everything seemed to disappear except for you and Kakashi and the oh so delicate kiss between you. From the brush of his lips, so soft and tentative against your own, you sighed, leaning into him even more than before.

He groaned when the two of you pulled away. “I can’t believe I waited so long for that. Make Out Paradise really doesn’t do it justice.”

Make Out Paradise also hadn’t prepared him for the way his heart would race at the sound of your laughter.

“Are you sure?” you asked, reaching toward your bedside table. “Surely there’s a good passage in here somewhere.”

If it meant more time by your side, Kakashi was willing to spend an eternity searching the pages with you, stealing kisses for every paragraph you skimmed through.

In the morning, the nurses were alarmed and horrified to find Kakashi Hatake laying in your bed, one arm wrapped gently around your side, masked nose nuzzled into your neck. On the other side of you, his fingers brushed the cover of a well-worn Make Out Violence novel.

It was indecent, a break of protocol, and, most of all, a shameful mockery of their hospital security. But when you woke to find Kakashi’s nose tucking a little closer into your neck, a mumbled “good morning” slipping into your skin, neither of you could think of a more fitting way to wake up. For the two of you—soulmates, real soulmates—the scenario was somehow perfect.

He wasn’t one to care about looking indecent. You could certainly get behind that.

You welcomed sappy, romantic gestures. Kakashi was willing to privately oblige.

Yeah, you both thought, the soulmate thing could definitely work out.

Masterlist

A/N: Don't mind me casually fandom hopping again. This fic has taken ages to finish, but I'm so excited with the result! I have several more Kakashi fics currently underway, so I hope to get a few of them finished sometime soon! Have a nice day! :)

#kakashi hatake #kakashi x y/n #kakashi x you #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #hatake kakashi #hatake kakashi x reader #hatake kakashi x you #hatake kakashi imagine #kakashi hatake fanfiction #anbu kakashi #silent writes

242 notes · View notes

ordinaryschmuck · 3 years

Note

Drabble suggestion: amity goes to luz’s house in the human world and Luz shows her her room and amity sees luz’s stuff animals that were on her bed in yl and Luz explains their names and stuff to them and like tells her about them

Memories and Plushies

Luz frantically zoomed around her room with a vacuum, sucking up every little bit of crump she could find.

"I'll admit, I didn't expect you to be so tidy," Vee said from the top bunk, watching her sister work, "Not after seeing the mess here you left for me to take care of."

"I'm normally not," Luz confessed, "But that's because I've never had a girlfriend coming over before. Amity already saw the mess in my room at the Owl House. Can't let her think I'm that much of a slob here."

"I feel like it might be worse that you're more of a slob in a stranger's house than you are in your own home."

Luz opened her mouth to retaliate, but the sound of the doorbell ringing cut her off.

"Oh, my gosh, that's her!" she ran to the mirror, doing some checkups. "How do I look?!"

"Like you always do," Vee rolled her eyes, "You should probably go open the door instead of leaving her waiting like this."

"You're...RIGHT! What am I thinking?!" Luz then bolted out of her room, zoomed down the stairs, and came to a screeching halt at the front door.

"Ok, don't freak out," she whispered to herself. Opening the door, Luz smiled brightly at Amity, who looked nervous as she smiled back.

"Hey, Luz," the witch waved.

"Hi, Amity!" Luz stepped aside and let her girlfriend in, "Welcome to my humble abode. Hope you're not disappointed."

"Well, I've been inside for ten seconds, and I already see a picture of you as a baby. So I say that I'm satisfied."

Luz curiously looked to where Amity was pointing and felt her blood run cold at the picture of a three-year-old Luz having a bubble bath. Instantly, she ran over and flipped it around.

"Ha! That's, uh...that's not for your eyes. Now, um, how about we head up to my room?"

Amity's signature flush grew upon her face.

"You're room? Now? Just the two of us?"

"Actually, Vee's there too. According to my mom, while she trusts me to not do something PG-13, she'd still feel better to have someone keeping an eye on us while she's at work. Vee'll do because it turns out she's older than me by, like, a month."

"Oh, good," Amity breathed a sigh of relief, "Because, um...that seems like too much for me."

"I don't know why," Luz took Amity's hand and led her upstairs. "I mean, you've been in my room a bunch of times at the Owl House."

"I know. But something about being in you're real bedroom, the room you basically grew up in, it...it seems different, I guess."

"Well, I hope it's easy to get through. Because..." Luz presented her bedroom, "Here it is!"

"Oh, wow. It is actually...just about as I would expect it to be," Amity said with a grin.

"Really?"

"Right down to the cute pile of stuffed animals. Although, I would not have predicted the bunk bed. Or the basilisk laying on the top bunk, for that matter."

"Hi," Vee waved in her basilisk form. "Sorry for the appearance. I just thought that this would look less weird than a copy of your girlfriend."

"It does, actually," Amity admitted as she strolled inside, looking at her surroundings.

"You're not disappointed, are you?" Luz asked with a twiddle of her thumbs. Amity chuckled at the apparent nervousness.

"Far from it," she sat down at the bed, waiting as Luz soon followed. "So...what do we do now?"

"Mom said no making out," Vee warned, to which Luz punched the top bunk in response.

"We can do whatever we want," Luz smiled at her girlfriend, "Aside from making out. Mom was very clear about that."

"I bet," Amity picked up a stuffed rabbit with a scarf. "This guy's cute. Does he have a name?"

"Uh, yeah, he has a name," Luz said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "They all do. Wanna hear them?"

"Sure."

"Well, this little guy is Flopsy," Luz took the rabbit, "Because what else are you going to call a rabbit."

She then picked up the stuffed cow with a missing button eye.

"This is Killer. She got that name because her one eye makes her look cool."

"Why does she only have one eye?" Amity asked.

"It was always missing since my dad bought it for me at a garage sale. In fact, all of these came from him in one way or another."

Luz picked up an orange ghost-looking plush with a blue nose and then a plush jack o'lantern.

"Both of these came from two different fairs," she explained, holding up the ghost first. "Dad won me Danella from the Fourth of July fair when I was eight and bought be Jacko here when I was five, and he took me to a Halloween festival."

Luz then set them aside and picked up the stuffed turtle and snake.

"And when I wanted pets, but Mom didn't think I was ready, Dad bought be Terrance and Ophelia for my sixth birthday party. But it's Jorge that I really appreciate."

Luz picked up the big, white plushy with a greenish-blue face.

"It was the last gift he gave me before leaving. It wasn't for a birthday or even Christmas. He just said that he saw it, thought of me, and bought it because of that."

Amity took notice of the sad look on Luz's face and frowned.

"I don't think I have ever heard you talk about your dad before," the witch said, grabbing her human's hand into her own. Luz smiled at the contact, but it was noticeably lacking in its usual optimism.

"I, um...I don't like to think about it much. The fun times we had are always nice to think about, but it's not too long until they make me feel...I don't know what they make me feel, but I definitely don't like it."

"He sounds like a great man, though."

"He really was...But, sometimes, when I sleep at night with all of these stuffed animals he bought me...I guess...I guess it makes me feel like he's still here."

Luz went to wipe a tear, feeling Amity use a thumb to brush a comforting pattern over her knuckles. It was a peaceful moment between them...ruined by Vee sticking out from the top bunk.

"So that's why Mom looked so flabbergasted at me suggesting I should sell them," she said with a face full of regret, shocking Luz to her core.

"You were going to sell my BABIES!?"

"I didn't know they meant so much to you! Which is why when Camila looked at me that way, I just told her I was joking and put them in the closet. It still got me a weird look, but--"

"YOU PUT MY BABIES IN THE COLD DARK CLOSET!?"

"I'm sorry, ok! What can I do to make it up to you?"

Luz opened her mouth to protest further, but an idea popped into her head.

An idea that made a faint blush glow on her cheeks.

"You could...give Amity and me five minutes together," she suggested, "Alone. Without telling Mom."

Amity blushed as well, looking between both sisters with bated breath.

"..." Vee sighed, climbing down to the floor. "Fine. But only five minutes."

"Deal!" Luz and Amity exclaimed in unison, making both of their blushes grow darker. Vee only rolled her eyes and slithered out the room, shutting the door behind her.

Briefly, Luz and Amity just sat in silence, fiddling with their own fingers and looking anywhere but each other. When they eventually made eye contact, they both grinned excitedly at one another.

Amity was the first to lean in.

"Wait!" Luz protested. As quickly as she could, she then rotated her stuffed animals so that they would all look away from them. "Ok, now we can go."

Amity chuckled at her girlfriend's behavior, leaning in again to make the most of their five minutes.

#the owl house #luz noceda #toh vee #amity blight #lumity #lumity is canon #luz and vee are sisters #the hiatus of drabbles

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blackbat05 · 3 years

Text

Day by Day

Shangqi x Reader

A/N: My love for this man has hit an all time high so let me capitalize on it while I still can! If you read everything, I sincerely thank you for doing so!!! And holy cow 2 fics in 2 days have I gone back into my prime days?

Genre: PG-13

Notes: As the title mentioned, I’ll probably set it some time after endgame. You could see it as a prequel to my first post! Reader is a social worker and she’s just dealing with all the mess that the snap bought back. The reader’s name as Jen Lee. I also apologize in advance for the potentially long fic.

***

‘Excuse me, I’m looking for my child? Her name’s Wang Yiman and she’s seven.’ Another frazzled-looking parent fought her way to the front of the receptionist, approaching the helpless intern who looked like she was going to be on the verge of tears if another request came in.

‘I got this,’ a hand calmly reassured the young intern as she beckoned the relief parent. ‘Mrs Wang? My name is Jen Lee and I’m the social worker here.’ I offered my hand for the anxious mother. ‘Oh thank god! Is Yiman ok? She must have been so scared!’ I slowed to a stop outside the room at the end of the corridor, gently sitting her down.

‘Yiman has been a very brave girl Mrs Wang, but I will not lie to you. The sudden disappearance of their parents has traumatized a lot of kids. We’ve managed to explain to them what was going on but they will need a lot of support.’ I gave a glance over Mrs Wang’s shoulder, nodding to my colleague, Tammy who was holding the hand of a little girl in pigtails and a floral dress.

妈妈! mā ma (mommy!)

The young girl ran into her mother’s open arms, allowing the floodgates to open from both ends. I turn to Tammy as we shared a silent agreement to leave the area. ‘That’s the last one for the day,’ Tammy unceremoniously plops herself onto the chair, letting out a groan. ‘Thanks for your hard work Jen.’

‘Right back at you.’ I entered the last bit of paperwork before uploading Yiman’s case file onto the portal. Yiman’s reunion with her parents meant the Children and Youth Centre were halfway in getting every displaced child back to their parents. Looking at the dingy television that was hung on the walls at the waiting room, despite not being able to hear anything, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on. S.W.O.R.D was apparently in a stand-off against Wanda Maximoff? Reported rumors that Sam Wilson didn’t want anything to do with the shield? It’s been a crazy few weeks but that was utter-

‘Bullshit! If anything it’s the government. They must have psyched him into giving up the shield.’ My chair swiveled to face Tammy who returned a nonchalant shrug. ‘What? You know I’m right. Doesn’t matter if half the world’s gone or our universe gets split into two - they’re the true evil here. I’m still struggling to find a place after I found a couple making out in my apartment! And you know what the global repatriation council told me? We’re only dealing with urgent cases right now. Well I say f-’

The incessant ringing of the bell interrupted our conversation, replacing Tammy’s tirade into a cheeky grin. ‘Look who’s here!’

Shangqi stands behind the counter, dressed in his usual red varsity jacket and jeans, holding bags of what I could only make out as takeout from the Chinese restaurant that was run by a friendly Singaporean couple. ‘Did I interrupt something?’ He scratches his head nervously. ‘Nope, in fact you just saved me from Tammy’s monologue, any further and she’ll explicitly tell me what she saw in her apartment when she got dusted back that day,’ I shivered in mock fear. ‘Still haunts me up till today.’ Tammy meets us by the door, bag in her hand.

‘I thought you were staying? We got fried dumplings and 泡饭 pào fàn (poached rice).’

‘Last minute duty - A parent called, gotta run! Enjoy your dinner date.’ She waggles her eyebrows suggestively, much to our embarrassment. ‘What? It’s not...’ Shangqi stutters, trying to form intelligible sentences. ‘Get out before I throw a fried dumpling at your face Tammy!’ She winks at me, before darting out of the door. Once my nosy colleague was out, I turn towards a red-faced Shangqi. ‘I’m so sorry... just don’t mind her.’

‘Huh?’ The man was knocked out of his stupor. ‘Oh yeah... sure,’ in an attempt to forget everything that had just happened, he opened the packets of fried dumplings. ‘Ready for war?’

‘I was born ready.’

Thirty-five minutes later, all that was left were the remnants of fried dumplings and three empty containers.

‘This should be illegal,’ I patted my stomach in satisfaction to his amusement. ‘Laugh at yourself! You lost track of how many dumplings you had and ended up taking my share!’

Raising his hands in defeat, Shangqi starts to clear the table up. ‘So how’s the center? Everything alright?’ I nodded numbly.

The past five years had been a blur. Hazy, even. All I remembered was a kid running into the office telling me that half of the staff disappeared during a school holiday program that we were running with a dozen other kids. Parents who survived the snap rushed to our center, demanding to see their children. We couldn’t give them any answer as we too, were equally perplexed. Maybe the only thing that made sense was Shangqi and Katy bursting into the center to help us with the chaos.

Coming back from what could be the 1000th phone call, I got a glimpse in the children’s playroom where the five years old kids were at, treating myself to an amusing sight. They all had red cloths draped around their neck, each holding a stick that was from the abandoned prop box. Katy wasn’t spared to as she was wearing her own red cloth that seemed a few sizes to small for her. Not that she didn’t seem to mind.

‘Alright my warriors! Chargeeeeee!!!!!!’

In unison, little pairs of feet pattered across the room towards their ‘enemy’, a cardboard cutout of a monstrous creature who was really just Shangqi in disguise.

‘RAWR! I’ll eat anyone who stands in my way!’ He stands up, mimicking a dinosaur that was about to trample an entire city. I decided that the paperwork could wait, standing near the door to watch an Oscar-worthy performance. With great effort and bravery from the kids, they finally managed to take down 5 foot 10 worth of muscle.

‘Again! Again!’

I chuckled upon seeing Shangqi on the floor, about to drift off into wonderland. It was time for me to step in. ‘Alright kids that’s enough for today! Dinner’s here.’ As the kids dispersed with the help of Katy, it was just the two of us left to clear up the mess. ‘Thank you so much, both of you. I honestly can’t think of what would happen if you guys didn’t come to help.’

Perhaps my body language was screaming ‘I’m dead tired, please just knock me out’ as Shangqi takes a cloth from me, folding it back into the box. ‘It’s what we would have done, this place, it means a lot to us - to me.’

A small knock on the door diverts our attention away from the trash. Little Yiman stands at the door, as she stares at the both of us with big round eyes.

‘Yiman, it’s late, what are you doing here?’ I squat down to her eye level. The little girl beams, ‘ 妈妈 said that I could give this to you!’ She passes me a juice box together with a handmade card with colorful scribbles. Maybe I was carrying too much on my shoulders, as I suddenly felt a boulder lifted off me. ‘Thank you,’ I smile at her sweetly, ‘I love apple juice.’ Happy with the response, she runs to Shangqi. ‘Shangqi 哥哥 gē ge (brother)!’

He breaks out into a smile, opening his arms wide. Yiman nuzzles her head into his shoulder before breaking out into uncontrollable giggles from his sudden attack of tickles. ‘Are you hear to help Miss Jen?’ I took the trash from his hands, giving him some time with the girl.

‘Yes I am. Miss Jen needs some help so I’m here today!’

‘Are you her boyfriend?’

Shangqi freezes on the spot. He had undergone what could be the toughest training by his father, fought the greatest assassins in the world and here he was - stumped by a question from a seven year old. ‘Well... I’m her close friend since when we were very young,’ Yiman looks at him expectantly. ‘She helped me when I was in trouble so I had to be a good friend when she was in trouble too.’

‘Like how Ningning helped me when I injured my knee?’

‘Yeah... something like that.’ He breathes a sigh of relief, thankful to escape his first crisis. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure if he was telling himself the truth.

‘Yiman! Your mother’s here!’ The little girl gives him one last hug before running to the waiting room. Shangqi takes a moment to recollect himself. ‘Here I am thinking that you finally managed to have some stamina while interacting with young children, maybe I was wrong.’ I teased as I sat beside him.

‘Har har, hilarious.’ He tosses me a straw for our peach teas, as we were greeted by the amazing night view of San Francisco. ‘Enough about me, you good though?’ Looks like he didn’t forget the conversation that was cut off earlier. My mind goes back to a few minutes earlier, eavesdropping on the conversation.

‘I had to be a good friend when she was in trouble too.’

Life has been so unpredictable, I don’t even want to think too far into the future. With appearances from more superpowered beings, I don’t know what’s real anymore.

‘Yeah. To be honest, it’s been so crazy and overwhelming but I’ll get through it. I have you don’t I?’ Giving him a wink, I slowly sipped on the sweetness of the tea, savoring the pearls. He pauses for a moment, nodding thoughtfully.

Life isn’t the same as it was before. But maybe, just maybe... if I had Shangqi, I’ll take each day on one at a time. Day by day.

[END]

A/N: Hoho! I literally spent the whole afternoon writing because I just had to get this idea out and also because work was pretty slow today. I have no idea what is up with my first two fics hinting at unrequited love? I guess I got inspired by Shangqi’s and Katy’s platonic relationship because I thought it was so well written but I also love Shangqi so I guess is a compromise kinda thing. Again, do like and comment if you wish! Really thankful that y’all have been so kind to me so far!

Perhaps I’ll try my hand at shorter ones like headcannons before this girl exhausts herself out and I don’t want to do that because I believe I have more to show!

#xu shangqi #shangqi imagine #shangqi x reader #katy shang chi #shang chi #shang chi x reader

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riskypeaches · 3 years

Text

2,365 Days

2,365 days. That’s how long it took you to realize that you were in love with Han Jisung. It took him another 36 to realize that he never stopped.

Pairing: Han Jisung/reader, female reader.

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre: Romance, college au, idiots in love, slight angst, angst with a happy ending, childhood best friends to lovers au.

Warnings: Excessive usage of italics and Y/N because that’s how I roll. Also profanity, I like to cuss.

Bits and pieces of a story idea I had for Han. Events happen chronologically, but a fair amount of time is skipped before and after each bit. Heavily inspired by the song Jenny (I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship), go ahead and take a listen!

↢

“Two thousand, three hundred and sixty-five days!”, you shouted.

Jisung stopped in his tracks, furrowing his eyebrows. “Y/N, what are you on about?”.

“Two thousand, three hundred and sixty-five days”, you stated again. “That’s- that’s how long it took me to realize I was in love with you”.

His mouth parted in shock at your confession. “Look, Y/N-”, he started but you cut him off.

“I don’t want to hear it!”, you said furiously shaking your head. “I know it’s stupid! I am never going to be over how stupid it was that I could be in love with someone for that long and not realize it until a couple weeks ago!”.

He took a step forward reaching out to put a hand on your shoulder. On any other day you would have gladly accepted the comfort, but the look in his eyes in that moment sickened you. In all the years you had known him, he had never once looked at you like that. And you fucking hated it.

All you could see was pity.

You dodged his hand, instead letting your own arms wrap around your front. You didn’t want comfort from him, not right now at least. All his touch did was make you hurt.

“The worst part about this is that I think you used to be in love with me too”, you murmured, shrinking into yourself. “And I’m- I’m so sorry I never realized it until now because I think… I think I could have saved you a lot of pain if I just took one fucking look at what was right in front of me”.

“Y/N…”, he said looking at you with a pained expression.

“Jisung I’m sorry, I really am. I know you’re with someone right now. I’m not trying to- steal you from them or something I just…”, you trailed off.

“You just what?”, he said.

“I just!”, you said looking at the ceiling to hold back your tears. Pressing the heel of your hands into your eyes you took deep steadying breaths.

“Jisung, I want you to be happy. I really do. And if that girl makes you happy then- that’s enough for me! I just… needed to give my best friend an explanation instead of dropping off the face of the earth”.

“Dropping off…?” he said, beginning to look vaguely panicked. “Where are you going?”.

“I’m just going home!”, you said waving your hands back and forth in a placating manner. “For… a couple of months at least”.

“Y/N. You haven’t been back home since the day we graduated high school”.

“I know”, you whispered looking at the floor. “I just need time to myself right now. These feelings are all new and I… I know I can’t be a good friend to you right now. Seeing you, being with you it just- hurts. I’m not the best friend you deserve right now”.

Jisung made a pained noise in the back of his throat and stepped in closer towards you. “I’m not mad at you! You don’t need to leave, if that’s what you’re afraid of”, he said placing his hands on your shoulders.

“No that’s not it Jisung”, you said gently brushing off his hands. “I just- for me to be a good friend, the one who can support you and the relationship you’ve found yourself in, I need time to get over these feelings. And I know that’s something I can’t do right now. So, I’m going home”.

Jisung sighed heavily, running his hands through his hair. Taking another look at you he seemed to decide that you were being serious and dropped onto your couch in defeat.

“You’re not… you’re not leaving right?”, he said head hanging down to his knees. “You’re coming back?”.

You gave a half hearted laugh and collapsed next to him.

“Han Jisung, just because the unfortunate side effects of the human condition cause me to have feelings for you that does not mean that you are ever going to be able to get rid of me”.

He gave a chuckle in response, still refusing to lift his head up. You tried to ignore the fact that he was sniffling through giggles. For his sake.

You gently nudged his shoulder with your own.

“I’ve known you for almost 7 years now. You’re stuck with me for life”.

He laughed fully this time, trying to subtly wipe at his eyes. “Kylie”, he said tilting his head at you and giving you a watery smile. “What do you think about her?”.

You gave him your own watery smile in return, “I really like her”, you said.

And it was the truth.

↢

Something was off, Jisung thought. In fact, something was off about this entire week.

His grades we’re up, better than they ever had been, he was dating an amazing girl, he had a steady job so… life is good.

Life was good, right?

↢

“Are you done moping yet?”, Chan said casually sipping at his soda.

“Moping?”, I asked. “I’m not moping”.

Chan rolled his eyes throwing another french fry into his mouth. “You clearly are. But, if we’re still in the denial stage that’s fine. We can just talk about… uh”, chan said nibbling at his fry thoughtfully. “Oh!”, he shouted suddenly. “Professor Brewer’s paper! Why don’t we work on it now? What are you doing for the prompt?”.

I sighed and rested my head on my palm. “I already finished it”, I grumbled twirling my soda straw aimlessly.

Chan’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull. “You fucking what?!”, he said choking on his soda.

“Shit dude are you ok?”, I said patting at his back. He waved me off, spluttering an “I’m ok” back.

“You WHAT”, he said after regaining his breath.

I shrank back in my seat. “I er- already finished it?”, I said nervously.

“Han”, Chan deadpanned. “We have 4 days left until that paper is due”.

I furrowed my eyebrows at him. “4 days isn’t that long you know, I have other classes too. Besides, don’t you always finish your assignments the day they're assigned?”.

He waved me off leaning back in his seat. “Yeah I do, but that’s not the point”.

“I’m sorry… then what exactly is the point then?”, I asked steadily growing more confused.

“The point is! You never even bother to look at your assignments until the day they’re due!”, Chan said exasperatedly.

I eyed him warily. “Why are you getting so worked up about this?”.

“Because!”, he all but shouted. “You’re an idiot!”.

“Hey!”, I said. “Just because you’re my hyung doesn’t mean you can just call me stupid!”, I huffed crossing my arms at him. “I’ll have you know I have a 3.8 this quarter”.

“Exactly”, Chan groaned while slowly dragging a hand across his face.

“What the hell are you on about?”, I said genuinely starting to become annoyed with the conversation.

“Hannie”, he said sighing. “The only reason you have such good grades this quarter is because you’re not following Y/N around like a lost puppy”.

My heart panged at the mention of her name. “I don’t know what you're talking about”, I breathed.

“Yes you do”, he said with a stern look in his eyes. “You have shitty grades every quarter because all you ever want to do is spend time with her. The only reason you get by is because she chews your ass out when she finds out you’ve been slacking”.

“Nope”, I shook my head adamantly. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about. I have a girlfriend, everything’s just fine”.

“Ok the fact that you brought that up when I wasn’t even talking about your girlfriend makes me feel like there’s more to unpack there but… baby steps. We’ll come back to that”

Chan looked at me with an expectant look in his eyes, as if waiting for me to say something. I shrugged helplessly at him, not knowing what he wanted from me.

He sighed heavily through his nose before apparently giving up on what he’d been waiting for.

“Hannie…”, he said gently. Chan carefully put his hand on my shoulder and looked at me with sympathetic look in his eyes. “You miss her”.

I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my ears. “No I don’t”, I said shaking my head at him.

“Han, you’ve spent nearly every single day with Y/N since you guys we’re 13. You can’t expect me to believe- actually you can’t expect yourself to believe that you don’t miss her”.

“Not true”, I muttered. “When we were in school she went back in the summers to visit her family”.

“Fine then- you spent everyday with her albeit 2 months out of the year. That’s not even true for the past 3 years! She hasn’t been back these summers, she stayed with you”.

I sighed heavily, sliding even further down my seat. “What do you want me to do?”, I mumbled miserably.

“I want you to stop being an idiot and acknowledge that you're upset, and that you have been for the past month”.

“Because Y/N’s gone?”, I asked slowly.

“Because Y/N’s gone.”, Chan affirmed.

↢

“Jisung?”, you asked incredulously. “How the hell did you get here? Why the hell are you here?”.

Jisung was near hyperventilating at this point, he felt that his lungs might collapse from the sheer stress of the situation.

Alright, alright. Calm down. Just remember what Chan and Changbin told you in the car ride over this is fine everything’s fine.

“I broke up with Kylie!”, I blurted out.

Everything was not fucking fine.

You crossed your arms and gave him a stern look. “Han Jisung I had to suffer through weeks of you non-stop talking about that girl. You better have not just broken up with her I swear to god-”

“She doesn’t make me cheesecake!”, I shouted cutting off her rant.

She looked even more confused than when she first realized I was standing in her grandparent’s yard. “Jisung what on earth are you talking about?”, she said.

What on earth indeed.

“I’m sure if it's really that big of a problem”, she said utterly perplexed. “She could just learn how to make one dude?”.

“Even if she did, it wouldn’t be your cheesecake!”, I said desperately.

“...what?”.

“It wouldn’t be the same as the ones you make me and- she doesn’t stay up with me all night trying to help me figure out rhymes for my lyrics even though you know you can’t rap for shit. And sure, she can skateboard and that’s pretty cool but she’s not the dumbass who thought launching herself off an out of control board was a great idea and face planted in the middle of four way traffic-”.

“Hey!”, she huffed indignantly.

I ignored her, continuing to roll right through my rant.

“And she doesn’t snore like a fucking buzzsaw, which would be so cute if it didn’t sound so god damn concerning. And she doesn’t watch romance movies with me even though you absolutely despise them and-”, I said stopping abruptly.

“And?”, she asked softly.

“And I don’t love her”, I breathed feeling the tips of my ears turn red. “Not the way that I love you”.

“Oh”, she said.

I laughed at her dumbfounded expression. “It took me 36 days and 2 hyungs to realize I was still in love with you and all you have to say in response is ‘oh’?”.

She huffed at me in annoyance. “I spilled my guts out to you a month ago, what the hell else do you want?! Some kind of blood oath??”.

“If that’s what it takes for you to tell me you love me right now then yeah, I think that’s fair”.

“You should have asked for that a whole fucking month ago!”, she said stamping her foot in annoyance.

“Hey! You may have had to wait a month but I had to wait 6 whole fucking years before you even acknowledged that you liked me!”.

“I hate you”.

“Oh you do? Well I could just- get back in Chan’s car then. Drive back to school”, I teased.

“Han Jisung I swear to god I will throw this fucking shovel at you”.

I laughed wholeheartedly, head tilting towards the sky. “Ok ok, I’m sorry. I get it. No leaving allowed, now will you get over here and kiss me already?”.

“No!” she yelped, turning red.

“6 years Y/N, I’m a desperate man”.

“If you don’t shut up I swear to god-”.

#han jisung #han jisung x reader #han jisung imagines #stray kids #skz x reader #enjoy this i guess #this is my first time sharing my writing #be kind pls #i am but a sensitive little person

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excelsi-or · 2 years

Text

welcome to svt (pt. 17)

w.c. 2.3k (whoops this is a long one. strap yourself in folks)

pairing: lee jihoon x OC/fem reader; platonic relationship - wonwoo x OC/fem reader

ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6 | ch. 7 | ch. 8 | ch. 9 | ch. 10 | ch. 11 | ch. 12 | ch. 13 | ch. 14 | ch. 15 | ch. 16 | ch. 17

Jihoon sets a mug of chai at her right elbow as she leans towards Wonwoo, pointing at something on his screen.

‘We can sit—’ she turns to Jihoon and leans up for a peck, ‘—thanks,’ then back to Wonwoo, ‘—here.’

Wonwoo nods and circles this on the paper copy that they have. ‘Well, if we sit there, then we’ve got two minutes of waiting time. Maybe more if we have to wait to cross the street.’

Jihoon moves to the couch as the two get caught up in their discussion of blind spots and break ins. Mingyu looks up when Jihoon collapses next to him.

‘Bored?’ Mingyu asks.

Jihoon shakes his head. ‘Nope, never.’ He’s been doing exercises with her to ease the residual pain of her stab wound while also navigating the shift in their relationship. Then when they’re not together, he’s working on music. He ducks in and out to see Bumzu and help with whatever the man needs assistance on.

‘There’s never really any time to be bored.’

Mingyu sighs. He glances over his shoulder. The man looks like a lost puppy as he stares at Wonwoo. ‘Well, maybe for you.’

Jihoon watches Mingyu for a moment before deciding not to push the Wonwoo topic. ‘We could go for a run.’

Mingyu frowns.

‘Play video games.’

The frown turns to a pout.

‘Board games?’

More pouting.

‘Cook dinner?’

Mingyu perks up at that.

‘Cook dinner,’ Jihoon repeats.

‘That’s a good idea. Let’s do that.’

Jihoon checks his watch. ‘It’s only 11 AM.’

‘Well, we have to look up a recipe, then see if we have the ingredients, and then we have to actually cook it.’ Mingyu pulls his phone out to look up recipes.

After about thirty minutes of silence, Jihoon glances up when he feels her standing over him. She leans down towards him. ‘Wonwoo and I are going to go out for a bit. We’ll be home before dinner.’ Then she presses a kiss to his cheek.

Jihoon peers around her at Wonwoo, who is standing by the kitchen island. The man is dressed in chinos and a slightly baggy button-up shirt. He lifts his chin in Wonwoo’s direction and Wonwoo nods back in response. When his gaze shifts back to her, she’s rolling her eyes.

She scruffs up his hair. ‘I can take care of myself.’

‘Still nice to know that you have back up if I’m not around,’ Jihoon answers. He makes a point to meet Wonwoo’s gaze again.

‘Promise we’re not doing anything too dangerous today,’ Wonwoo insists. ‘Look at us. We’re dressed like some rich couple. Not thieves.’

Jihoon finally takes in her outfit, which does look like a young rich professional. It matches Wonwoo’s outfit well.

Mingyu looks up from his phone. ‘You guys going out?’

Wonwoo nods. ‘Yeah, we need to check something out.’

‘Okay.’ Mingyu turns his attention back to his recipe hunt and leans towards Jihoon to show him. ‘Be safe!’

She directs Wonwoo to the building. ‘As soon as we go in there, we’re gonna have to make sure he’s not the leak in a few hours.’

Wonwoo taps his fingers on the steering wheel. ‘We can do that.’

‘Yeah, if Cheollie doesn’t send one of us out before then. Minghao and Jun are already away.’ She looks over at him. ‘Would you be able to do it if you take Mingyu?’

‘Of course. Maybe not as quickly as you and Jihoon, but yes, we can get it done.’

‘Left here.’

‘So, who did you tell this real estate guy we were?’

‘We’re getting married and looking for a new apartment.’

‘Engagement ring?’ Wonwoo asks.

She slips the ring from her mother off her necklace and slides it onto her ring finger. She holds it up for him to see. ‘Good?’

‘I’m apparently not a good fiancé. Didn’t get the ring sized properly,’ Wonwoo chuckles. ‘But yes, that’ll work. Anything else?’

She tells him the names she told the real estate agent and how old she thinks the man is. ‘He’s only been working for a year, so it should be easy enough to distract him so we can snag keys off him.’

‘And you have pictures of Mark in case we run into him in the building?’

‘Yeah, I do. Minghao sent them to me. Have a look before we go.’

Wonwoo navigates to the blind spot in the alley they circled. He grabs his sunglasses from the overhead compartment as she shows him the photos. ‘Young guy.’

She nods. ‘Probably around our age.’ She swipes through the photos. ‘Baby face.’

‘Probably makes it easier for people to trust him.’ Wonwoo climbs out of the car and slides his sunglasses on. They head down the side streets, keeping out of view of the cameras. As they come into the sunlight at the end of the block, both of them shove their jackets into her tote bag. She knots her slip skirt around her waist and takes Wonwoo’s hand.

They wait at the foot of the stairs, looking up at the building.

‘You’d think he’d be early,’ Wonwoo mumbles.

She shrugs. ‘Guess he thinks he’s so good he can be late.’ She looks down the street and sees their real estate agent getting out of his car. He drops his keys and adjusts the glasses he nearly knocks off his face to pick them up. Gently, she nudges Wonwoo’s side and motions with her chin. ‘Or he’s flustered.’

‘Must not get a lot of rich clients.’

Once their agent pulls himself together, he tours them through the suite that’s for sale. It’s large, high ceilings with modern furnishings. He’s surprised that none of the flashy assets seem to attract his clients. Instead, they ask him about the layout of the other suites, the security, the entrances and exits, alarms, and what the CCTV system is like.

When he leaves that afternoon, he concludes that the couple must be famous and concerned about security. He decides to look them up when he gets back to the office.

Back in the car, Wonwoo holds the front door fob out that he knicked from the real estate agent. ‘No master key unfortunately.’

‘Eh, can’t win them all.’

Mingyu and Wonwoo get sent out later that afternoon to Greece. Minghao, Jun, Chan and Joshua are having difficulties completing their job and won’t be home for a few more days.

This has ultimately led to Jihoon accompanying her.

‘You’d think a foreigner would stick out more if you were doing hits here,’ Jihoon comments as he follows her directions.

She sighs, getting car sick as she types. ‘It’s probably just an alias. Probably not a good idea to kill people with your real name.’

‘Guess all criminal enterprises kinda work the same way.’

And now he’s watching her walk towards the building to plug into the building’s network and then go inside by herself. Apparently, she and Wonwoo have narrowed the hitman’s apartment down to six different ones.

‘Are you good?’ Jihoon asks through the comm.

She shushes him.

‘You know, waiting for you is exhausting.’

‘Shut up,’ she hisses.

Jihoon shoots upright. ‘Hold up. Are you in the apartment?’

She clicks her tongue once. Yes.

‘You idiot. Why did you go in alone?’

Then she clicks her tongue twice. I didn’t.

‘You idiot, if I hear you getting murdered, I’ll—’

She clicks three times. She rarely uses it. It’s mostly just to appease him when they’re out. A quick three taps. I love you.

Jihoon huffs, mollified by the small declaration. ‘Where are you?’ He tries to tame the urgency in his voice but fails. Miserably.

There’s no response.

He rolls his eyes. ‘Please be more specific, jagi.’ He leans forward to look at the building.

She clicks her tongue twice.

Jihoon frowns, waiting for her to elaborate. But it dawns on him quickly. ‘You think there are listening devices in there.’

She clicks her tongue once.

He chews on his bottom lip. Then he gets out of his car and paces around it.

Her voice pulls his voice right in. The only words she’s spoken since she left him. ‘You better not be drawing attention to yourself.’ Jihoon notices that she doesn’t use his nickname and that makes his stomach drop even more.

‘You put us in a blind spot,’ he reminds her. ‘But what are you going to do about the devices?’

She doesn’t answer, but he can hear her breathing. He rests on the hood of the car, arms crossed, and stares at the building. The anticipation to see her walk out of the apartment grows.

‘Jagi, I hope you’re okay in there and you haven’t shut up because you’re about to be killed.’

There’s a slight change in her breathing pattern. Jihoon recognizes it as a laugh and the tenseness in his chest eases.

She clicks her tongue twice with a long pause in between and Jihoon climbs into the car, recognizing the signal. She’s quiet the entire way. The only reason Jihoon knows she’s coming is the way her breathing picks up in his ear. Then she’s out the door and booking it across the street.

They angle their hats to keep their faces out of view of any street cameras and Jihoon pulls out onto the street. Next to him, she types so furiously that Jihoon swears she’ll break the keys off.

‘What are you doing about the devices in the apartment?’

‘Nothing. I couldn’t do anything about them. There were too many.’

Jihoon’s jaw drops. ‘I could have disabled them while you did whatever you were doing.’

She shakes her head. ‘No. Cheol doesn’t want too many of our faces to be associated with this. It’s not ideal to do it this way, but I erased all traces of myself off his hard drive. So, he won’t know what I was looking for.’

He glances over at her, still typing. ‘So, what are you doing now then?’

‘Trying to erase any evidence of us being at his building. Gotta assume this Mark dude has the same sort of access we do.’ She groans and rests her head against the back of the seat.

‘Jagi, you can do it when we get home.’

‘We aren’t going home.’ She takes a deep breath and returns to her computer. ‘We need to get to Japan.’

‘What’s happening in Japan now?’ Jihoon demands. He glances in their empty back seat. ‘Did you pack us already?’

‘Yeah, Jeonghan mentioned it yesterday. Our bags are in the trunk. Slipped my mind to tell you.’

Jihoon hums. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches glimpses of her face, illuminated by streetlamps. She’s lost weight in her face despite him encouraging her to eat. And there are dark circles under her eyes despite him encouraging her to sleep. ‘I think Cheol’s request is working you too hard.’

‘Well, the job was never going to be easy.’ She glances up. Weakly, she motions for him to turn right. ‘We’re taking Hannie’s plane today.’

‘All of Cheol’s planes are out of commission?’

‘I didn’t ask.’ She takes a deep breath and tips her head back against the head rest. ‘I’m going to be sick.’

‘I’m telling you to stop.’

‘I’m almost done.’ She inhales deeply and ducks her head again.

Jihoon rolls his eyes at her stubbornness and rolls the back windows down to let some air in.

Her next exhale is one of slight relief. Seemingly finished, she closes her laptop and then leans her head against the side of the car.

‘You’re not going to vomit, are you?’

‘No.’ Her eyes close. ‘Just nauseous.’

‘We’ll eat something. And you get the walk from the barn to the plane for some fresh air.’ He speeds up as they leave the city behind.

As he drives them to the farm where Jeonghan’s plane is stored, they both get lost in their own thoughts. He watches the colour return to her face and when she moves back to sit in the seat properly, he opens her window.

‘What’s the case anyway?’

‘Someone after historic samurai swords.’ Her head is nearly out the window as she asks, ‘Do you think Cheol got us in trouble?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Those Jardinier files.’

‘He told us to stop thinking about those.’

She snorts and looks over at him with a look of disbelief.

It’s almost hard to take her seriously with her hair whipping around like that. ‘Fine, I haven’t stopped thinking about them either. We should have looked at them when we had them.’

‘I did.’ She collapses back into her seat, her hair windswept and her cheeks coloured from the cold air.

He scoffs. Of course his hacker girlfriend looked before she handed them over. ‘And?’

‘There were too many files to figure out which ones were so important to him.’

‘You seem to have a theory as to what he got us into.’

She pauses, mulling over her growing theory. But she shakes her head. ‘Not really. I just heard him and Jeonghan oppa arguing over something. Cheol not telling oppa about it.’ She tips her head, recalling the argument she’d heard. ‘Something about how we should have all been informed before we signed up.’

‘Shit, so something before we all go involved has come to bite him in the ass?’ Jihoon shakes his head. ‘What could it be?’

‘I don’t know. We’re going to have to ask Jun and Shua oppa what it was like before Cheol started properly recruiting people, I think.’

Jihoon reaches for her hand, his eyes never leaving the road. ‘Jagi, you know you’re going to run yourself into the ground with all these things you’re thinking about lately.’

She hums.

‘Maybe we extend our Japan trip for a day or two. Take a mini vacation. No hitmen, no SVT, just us.’

She lifts his hand to her lips. ‘Yeah, okay.’

#woozi #wonwoo #woozi fic #woozi imagines #woozi scenarios #Seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #Svt #Lee Jihoon #lee jihoon scenarios

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quicksilverownsmysoul · 3 years

Text

13 Going on 30 pt. 4

A Peter Maximoff x reader fanfic based off the movie 13 going on 30

Summary: You are so excited when the most popular girl in your school agrees to come to your 13th birthday party. But after a cruel prank you find yourself wishing that you were popular and older. By some miracle your wish is granted but isn’t as wonderful as it seems. You turn out to be a major jerk and you don't even talk to your best friend Peter anymore. Can you fix everything and get back to normal or are you stuck living like this forever

Warnings: Nothing really it’s pure fluff, a little angst and some suggestive content

Word count: 1648

“What?” Your voice cracked as you stared up at him with watery eyes. You reached towards him grabbing onto his forearm. He shrugged you off, stepping back from you. “Petey, you’re my best friend.” You said, lip trembling. He just shook his head sadly. You threw yourself down on the couch and buried your head in your hands.

Peter moved to sit in the chair next to you, he sat awkwardly as he watched as you started to cry. He reached his hand out and gave you a pat on your back. “There, there don't cry.” You started to cry harder at his poor attempt at comfort and he grimaced. He had never been great at comforting you, even less now that he barely knew you. “Can I get you anything?”

“A water.” You hiccupped out through your tears.

“A water? Do you want ice or like-

“A pillow.”

“What?”

“A PILLOW I WANT A FUCKING PILLOW.” You screamed turning on Peter. He jumped out of his seat and nearly tripped over himself rushing to get up.

“Okay okay! I’ll get you a fucking pillow. Okay?” He watched you with nervous eyes as he stumbled out of the room backwards, scared to break eye contact with you.

You sat on the couch clutching the pillow to death, slowly sipping the water he had brought you. Peter watched you with cautious eyes flinching anytime you moved, honestly he was pretty scared of you at the moment. You sniffled and lifted your head up to look at him. “So you really know nothing about me?”

He avoided your piercing gaze and kept his eyes cast downward. “No, um you kinda dumped me as your friend and started hanging out with Lucy and all of them. And then we parted ways after high school, we went to different colleges and I never saw you again.” He gave you a small smile. “Until now.” You nodded at his answer and finished off your water. You looked around his apartment, it was exactly how you imagined it would look like. You let out a laugh at seeing the arcade game behind him.

“I see you finally got the pac-man machine. You always said you were going to get one when you got your own place.”

“Yeah.” He said let out a light laugh. “I can’t believe you remembered that.” He took your empty glass and placed it back on the counter. “Look (y/n) I think you should go back to your apartment. I can help you find it.”

“Okay.” You stood up, pulling your coat back up, you let him walk you to the door, he slipped on his shoes, as usual they were already tied. He never did untie his shoes, always said it was a waste of time. You turned around and the game in the corner caught your eye again. You turned to face him with a playful smile on your face. “I’ll let you take me home but only if you let me try and beat your high score on pac-man.”

“Take you home?” He smirked. “I don’t think you know what you’re implying.” You gave him a weird look and he blushed realizing your mind hasn't gone where his had. He cleared his throat and tried to steer you back towards the door. “I really think you should be getting home.”

“Oh?” You asked, placing your hands on your hips. “Are you trying to get rid of me because you’re scared of me beating your high score?”

“What? No.”

“I think you are. I was always better than you at it.” You smirked at him.

He scoffed, mirroring your stance. “‘No you weren't.”

“Yes I was.” You narrowed your eyes playfully at him. “So are you going to let me play or are you too chicken?’

Peter rolled his eyes. “(y/n)-”

“Bwak.” You said begging to cluck like chicken, you had your arms making wing motions. He laughed at your imitation.

“What are you thirteen?” You just clucked in response before moving closer to him. You were inches apart, challenging one another with your stances.

“So are you gonna let me try and beat your score.” He mirrored your smirk, a happy feeling overtaking him. He had forgotten how much he had missed hanging out with you. And how much he had missed all your silly antics. “You're on.”

After beating Peter’s high score three times he walked you back to your apartment. “Told you I was better.” You bragged again as you guys stopped in front of your building.

‘Yeah yeah.”

“This was fun.” You said tucking your hair behind your ear. Peter watched you, noticing that somehow you still possessed all your old habits.

“Yeah it was.”

“We should do it again sometime.”

“I don’t know-” He trailed off as he saw your eyes staring up at him. Those same puppy eyes you would give him when you guys were kids. The ones that would make him walk off a cliff if you asked. He let out a sigh with a reluctant smile. “Yeah we should.” You smiled brightly at his words and leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“Thanks for taking me home Petey.” You walked in your building leaving Peter to stand there in shock

“Uh yeah.” He said not even realizing you were gone. He was too busy holding his fingers up to touch the spot where you had kissed him. He shook his head and started back home, he couldn’t believe after all these years you still had him wrapped around your finger.

The next day you felt a little more prepared to take on the day. Though you still woke up and pinched yourself hoping it was all a bad dream. You had gotten a call yesterday from Lucy who told you that there was a party for your company tonight. Apparently Poise had a party they were supposed to premier at and you and her were supposed to host it and make sure the company got good publicity out of it.

You showered and sat down on your bed still wrapped up in your towel. You looked over at the phone nervously. Peter had given you his number after you had practically begged for it. You desperately wanted to call him and invite him to the party, but the thought of him rejecting your invitation was daunting. You debated with yourself for a moment longer before picking up the phone and quickly dialing before you could change your mind.

Peter was still in bed when you called. He was groggy and half asleep as he reached into his nightstand trying to find the phone. “Hello?” He opened his eyes and saw that he had picked up a pringles container. He grumbled and threw it to the side. He picked up the actual phone, rubbing his eyes trying to wake up.

“Hello?” His voice was raspy, you could tell he had just woken up.

You smiled to yourself at hearing his voice on the other line. Letting out a little giggle at his morning voice. “Hey Petey.”

His eyes widened at realizing it was you. He had to clear his throat, smoothing his hair down even though he knew you couldn't see him. “Hey (y/n). Why are you calling so early?”

“Peter.”

“Hmm?”

“It’s noon.” He glanced over at the clock by his bedside. Sure enough it read 12.

“Oh.” You laughed at his lame response and he smiled at hearing it. “Anyway why are you calling? Don’t you have some big company you're supposed to be running?”

“Actually we have the day off to prepare for this party Poise is holding tonight.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! And I was wondering…” He could hear the hesitancy in your voice. “If maybe you would…”

“Come on (y/n) spit it out.”

He heard you let out a little laugh. “If you would like to go to the party with me?” He felt the phone slip form his hand, as a blush over took his features. Were you asking him out? He could hear your voice on the other line calling his name. He scrambled to pick it up and pressed it back to his ear. “Yeah I’m here.”

“So can you come?”

“Like as a date?” It was your turn to be embarrassed. You struggled over your words as you tried to get a response.

“Nonononono. Not like that, not that I wouldn't want to go on a date it’s just.” You took a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t know anybody there and it would be nice if you would come. Please” You added.

Peter felt his heart sank a little and he didn't know why. “Yeah I get it. Um.” He looked over at the calendar that was pinned to his walls, so far all the dates were empty. “I’ll see if I can make it.”

“Really?” You asked holding the phone closer, trying your best to hide the excitement in your voice

“Yeah just give me the address and I’ll see what I can do.”

“You’re the best Petey.”

“I know.”

Peter wrote down the address on a scrap of paper and went over to pin it on the calendar. He glanced over at his phone, it was still blinking, by now he had about a million voicemails from her. But the thought of calling her back filled him with dread. He looked back over at the calendar and his heart fluttered looking at the address. At the implication he would get to spend the night with you. Something he had held hope for for a long time now. He sighed and sniffed himself making a face. He was definitely going to need a shower no matter what he decided to do. But deep down he already knew what his decision was going to be.

Taglist: @raincoffeeandfandoms @no-mercy-bby @superwholokian309 @lejardinfleur @duchessnibsrp @steamboat-local @waspyyy @instabull @xxspqcebunsxx @coffeeandteaintheevening @kitwalkerangel @joshdunstoothbrush75 @xmaximoffic @chiswritingandreadingcorner

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djarinbarnes · 4 years

Text

🕷️ october 4th - breeding kink - b.barnes 🕷️

Author: dina @softboibarnes

Word Count: 3.2k

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: non-con, breeding kink, stalking, yandere elements, mentions of porn, kinda slow burn.

A/N: okay i got a bit carried away with this one. this one is written from Bucky’s point of view. this is a dark fic. 18+ proceed with caution. your media consumption is your own responsibility.

masterlist

If there was one thing that turned Bucky on, it was pregnant women. He didn’t know what it is specifically, but there was something about the way their faces glowed, and their stomach swelled.

It had always been like that. Not that he was always turned on by pregnant women, but he had admired them for longer than he could remember. He remembered how his mother’s stomach swelled with his little sister, how it was hard, yet soft to his touch. How her feet kicked against his hand as he laid it on his mother’s stomach during the last trimester.

How the pregnant women at the supermarket cradled their stomachs as they admired the next thing they would add to their baskets. The way some of them adorably waddled like penguins during the last month of pregnancy, and the way you could still tell the woman had just had a child, even a few months after.

When he discovered pornography at the age of 13, he felt like he’d hit a goldmine. He could watch the videos for hours, admiring every little detail about the pregnant women getting fucked in so many ways for hours. What turned him on the most, though, was how they would come so quickly, so hard. He knew that the women had to be more than sensitive when pregnant.

Whereas those thin, playful girls who took huge cocks in their every hole could last for hours with no end, the pregnant women were easily pushed over the edge, in what appeared to be mind-blowing orgasms. Bucky didn’t understand why the guys in his year thought those skinny whores was the best of the best.

He never talked about what kind of porn he watched after Brock bullied him in the 9th grade, after he accidentally slipped out that he had seen the most sensual porn with a pregnant woman. To Brock, porn was anything but sensual.

He told Bucky how he liked to watch women who were tied up, gagging on whatever, bring punished in whatever way the master deemed appropriate. Apparently, it was amusing to watch women get big unidentified objects into whatever hole was available. It made Bucky shudder.

He did find it interesting how a female body could go through such a wild transformation though and turn back to normal. It made his interests peak and his cock hard. As he got older, it turned into an obsession for him.

He knew he wanted to get a girl pregnant. Watch her swell with his seed, carry his baby for nine months. He knew he wanted nothing more in the world than to make use of the sensitiveness that followed with the hormones, the breasts full of milk and the soft stomach straining against his hands.

God how he longed to reach out and caress a popped belly button, to feel a child kick against his stomach as he pounded into the woman carrying it. He knew he would do anything to make it a reality.

The first time he’d had sex with a girl, she’d begged him to wear a condom. He’d hesitantly agreed. He hated every second of it; the uncomfortable feeling of latex against the sensitive head of his cock, the tight ring choking his cock at the base.

He knew he had to restrain himself though. He knew the good girls these days were more than careful with their partners, and he just had to take his time to charm them warm. He knew that one of them, someday, would give into him and let him fill her womb with his seed. It just never happened like he wanted it to.

When he first saw you at the supermarket, he knew he had to have you. It had been way too long since he’d had anyone. He felt his heart as well as his cock swell as soon as you had let out a delightful little laugh, your hand coming up to brush your hair over your shoulder.

He walked just a little closer to you, leaning against one of the shelves stuffed with different kinds of chips. You were crouched down in front of a small child, holding out a pack of popcorn you had retrieved from one of the higher shelves, giving the little one a soft smile along with a “here you go, sweetheart.”

Bucky watched as the kid took off running, back to their mother. He felt his heart swell in his chest as you turn to face him, the soft smile still plastered on your face. He knew in that exact moment, that you felt the same way about kids that he did. And he knew, in that exact moment, that you would be the one to carry his children, no matter the cost.

You jumped slightly when you noticed Bucky smiling at you from a few feet away, not having noticed him before. You approached him, a smile coming back on your lips before you walked right past him, to where the employees had their back room. He felt his heart fall in his chest, before making a quick decision, turning on his heel and letting out a small “excuse me?”

You turned back to him, your hand on the swing door, ready to walk through. “yes? How may I help you?” your smile had already embedded itself into his brain. He was so fucked.

“I was wondering where you kept the wines? And if you had any good ones?” he stuttered out a makeshift lie, watching as you pursed your lips, thinking over his question. You smiled before walking back towards the shelves, motioning for him to follow you. You both stopped before the shelves filled with white, rosé and red, looking over the countless possibilities.

“Anything you can recommend?” He cleared his throat, watching you out of the corner of his eyes. He felt his heart pick up the pace as you bit your lips, turning towards him with a frown.

“I’m sorry, I don’t drink. I need to be healthy and… Sorry, that’s none of your business…” you blushed before looking down at your feet, your cheeks reddening slightly.

“No, it probably isn’t… Well, then I guess I wouldn’t have much success in asking you out for a glass of wine?” Bucky smiled down at you, watching as your head shot up, your eyes wide and doe-like. He felt his heart flutter in his chest, noticing how you had the smallest of rips in your bottom lip. He knew you had to bite them a lot.

“Oh, I… No, I guess not.” You let out a small laugh, your arm coming up to grab your opposite elbow, shielding yourself. He felt the disappointment bubble just under the surface before you spoke again. He muttered out a quiet thank you for your time, before turning on his heel to leave. “But… I do like tea. And pastries?”

He turned back to you with a smile playing on his lips before nodding. “Alright. When are you off?” he looked at his watch. 3:49.

“At four. Unless Tony asks me to work overtime, again.” You sighed, before hoisting your phone out of your pocket, handing it to Bucky. “You can… add your number. Then I can reach out to you when I’m off.” You smiled softly as Bucky grabbed your phone, clicking on the home button before it opened, without a passcode. Too damn easy.

“Alright. I’m Bucky, by the way.” He quickly typed his number into your phone before sending himself a text, so he had yours. You told him your name as he handed your phone back to you. “If you want, I can wait out front until you’re off? Then we can go to this place I know. They have some really good pastries.”

“Oh. Yeah! That sounds alright.” You giggled and blushed at his question. “It’s a date.” He watched as you turned around to walk back where you came from, turning once, twice, three times to look at him still standing there in the aisle, a smile playing on his lips as a plan formed inside his head.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but you mentioned you didn’t drink?” Bucky asked as he watched you swirl your spoon around your cup of earl grey, one teaspoon of sugar now blending in. He admired the soft tint of your cheek that appeared when he asked, letting him know it was something very personal to you.

“It’s just… I really want to be healthy, you know? For when I’m one day am going to bear children. I don’t want to ruin my body with unnecessary consumption of alcoholic beverages. So I’ve never had a drink in my life.” You softly grazed the spoon over the rim of your cup, letting the tea run off before you put it down.

“That’s smart. I admire you for that.” Bucky smiled as he brought his cup of coffee to his lips, blowing on it slightly before taking a sip. He watched as your eyes lit up in admiration, along with a rounding of your cheeks as you smiled. God, you were literally perfection. “How many do you want?”

“Two or three. I don’t want my child to be an only child, because I know how lonely it can get.” You sighed, biting the inside of your cheek. “How about you?”

“I guess I’ll know how many I want when my hands are full, and I can’t take anymore.” Bucky let out a heartful laugh, getting a small giggle from you in the process. “I want a big family. I have a lot of love to give.” He looked you directly in the eyes as he said the last sentence and noticed how you suddenly squirmed in your seat.

You nodded before blushing, maintaining eye contact as you licked your lips. “Just need to find the right partner.” Bucky felt his cock twitch in his pants as you spoke, countless images running through his head at that point. You sucked in a breath before biting your lower lip. Bucky expected a you wanna get out of here? But instead he got a “I better get home…”

He felt his heart drop in his chest, feeling both the sadness and anger overcoming him. He smiled though, rising from his seat as you did from yours. You offered him your hand and he shook it, a courteous nod from him. “It was a pleasure, y/n. Maybe I’ll see more of you soon?”

You smiled with a small nod before collecting your things, leaving the small café. Bucky threw a few dollars on the table, following you out of the café, but keeping his distance. This was where his plan would go into motion. He pushed his hand into his deep coat pocket, feeling both pairs of wrapped up handcuffs laying securely in the fabric.

He followed you as you turned corners, watching as you smiled at strangers, handing over a few cents to a homeless man sitting on the sidewalk. You are really something else, he thought. He hid behind a set of stairs as you walked up to an old apartment complex, pushing your way through the front door and disappearing into the building.

Bucky walked up the stairs to your complex warily, looking at the different buzzers and doorbells before squinting his eyes. He sighed when he found only letters of first names and full last names. He scurried down the stairs, making his way into the alley on the side.

He found the fire escape quickly and hoisted himself up, hoping he was on the right side of the building. He looked through the blinds of the first three floors, coming up with nothing. He let out a small laugh when he ended up in front of the fourth-floor window, slightly ajar, hearing a soft humming under the sound of a shower running.

He lifted the window open wider, sliding into the warmth of your apartment before sliding it closed. He looked around your personal space, kicking off his shoes before making his way to your bed. He lifted a pair of your stockings off the railing before bringing the garment to his nose, inhaling the sweet scent of you.

He looked over his shoulder to where the bathroom door was barely open before walking up to the headboard. He unraveled the handcuffs from the silencing fabric, clasping the metal around the metal frame of your bed. He smiled before making his way closer to the bathroom door. He halted in his steps as he heard the shower turning off, the rings of your shower curtain being pulled back.

Your soft humming continued as he imagined you drying off your hair, drying your dreamy body. He shrugged off his coat and hung it over one of your chairs. He walked over silently to the big, brown armchair in the corner of your apartment before sitting down, crossing his legs.

He waited with anticipation for a few seconds until the bathroom door swung open, revealing your towel-clad body. You let out a yelp when you noticed him seated in your armchair, a smug smile adorning his face. You clutched the towel to your body, the fear blossoming in your stomach.

“Bucky? What on earth are you doing in here? How did you even get in here?!” you shuffled backwards as he rose from his seat, walking towards you with silent steps. You scrambled backwards to your wall, Bucky quickly pressing against you, trapping you against the wall.

“I want to clarify a few things, doll…” His hand came up to grasp your throat while his other hand fumbled with where your towel was tied around your breasts. The towel fell in a pool around your feet and you shut your eyes, feeling both exposed and humiliated. Your arms hang limply down your side. You were too shocked to fight him.

“First off… God damn baby…” Bucky leaned in and breathed in your ear, making you whimper as he tightened his hold on your throat. He leaned back slightly, looking up and down your body with hungry eyes. He admired the way your nipples hardened into tight buds from the slightly cool air and how the goosebumps rose on your skin.

“Second…” The fingers on the hand that wasn’t clutching your throat found its way in between your legs, swiping through your folds before pushing in slowly, one knuckle, then deeper, until his pointer finger was buried within your tight heat. He watched as you turned your head away from him, tears wetting your eyes.

He tightened the hold on your throat. “Eyes on me.” He growled out, inserting another finger into you. You whimpered out as his fingertips played with your cervix, your eyes reluctantly looking back into his blackened eyes.

“I’m gonna fuck you. You want that, hmm?” He felt how you slicked up on his digits. “Gonna fill you with my cum. Watch how you swell with my seed.” Bucky moaned as he imagined you with a baby bump. His baby. “We want the same thing, doll.”

A whimpered no left your lips, and Bucky saw red. He tightened his hold on your throat as he yanked you forward, forcefully throwing you on the bed. He let go of your throat shortly, clasping both your wrists within the handcuffs. You whimpered as you strained against the handcuffs, fear overtaking your body even more.

Bucky watched you as he undressed himself, watched as you squirmed on your bed, the handcuffs clinking against the metal of your headboard. When he stood naked in front of you, his cock full of desire and his balls full of cum, you started to panic. He could tell from the way you started thrashing about.

He looked around your apartment as you started screaming. He grabbed the stockings he had previously inhaled the scent of; pushing the garment into your open mouth, muffling your screams. Your legs kicked about, hitting him in his stomach.

“Shouldn’t have done that, baby doll.” His strong hands gripped behind your knees harshly, pushing your knees to your shoulders. The tears streamed down your cheeks so prettily, he noticed as he sat between your legs on his knees.

He looked down at your cunt, his cock twitching painfully. He needed you desperately. Just like you needed him to fill you with his cum, needed him to bury a child deep within you. He kept his hands locked behind your knees in a painful, tight grip as he spit on your pussy, making sure everything wasn’t too dry for him.

He shifted on his knees, leaning over your body, looking up at your face, hearing your whimpers through the stocking. “You want me to fuck you, huh?” You whimpered, mumbled, looking up at Bucky with wide eyes. “You want me to fuck you hard?” He smirked, hearing your whimpers again. “You want me to knock you up?”

He angled his hips slightly, thrusting forward, his cock sliding through your wet folds. His hands wrapped around your knees, spreading your legs and pulling your legs on each of his shoulders, entering you in one swift thrust.

He watched as you shut your eyes tightly, tears streaming steadily down your cheeks. It was so beautiful. He groaned as he slammed his hips against yours, burying himself to the hilt. You strained against the handcuffs, twisting your body violently. Bucky’s grip tightened on you, his hips retracting before slamming into you again, hitting your cervix.

You screamed, throat strained, body tired. “We could’ve done this the sensual way,” he told you through gritted teeth, his hips slamming against your ass in a steady rhythm. “You could’ve gotten pure vanilla,” he groaned out, your walls tightening against his cock. “But instead you decided to act like a brat!” His hand briefly left your knee to slap your breast.

“Gonna have to show you how to behave.” He pushed your knees to your chest again, folding you in half, leaning over you. He kissed your wet cheeks despite your attempt to turn away from him. His hips ground against you, his cock burying itself deeply inside of you. “Gonna fuck you full of my babies.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head, orgasm overcoming you as your body started shaking violently. You breathed out harshly, your face red but so beautiful. Bucky felt his balls tighten uncomfortably. He pushed into you faster, harder, before he finally let out a yelp as his hot cum spurted into you, his scrotum convulsing more violently than he’d ever felt before.

He caressed your cheek as you kept crying, sobs racking through your tired, worn out body. Bucky slipped from you, pulling back, helping your legs laying comfortably against your bed. “You gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked, his hand stroking over your hair. You nodded, sniffing. He reached down and pulled the stocking from your mouth, watching as you coughed.

“Please Bucky.” You whimpered, looking up at your restrained hands. Bucky knew you would be good for him. He knew he had a good chance of succeeding this time.

When you’d handed over your phone, he’d bugged it. While he waited in his car, he checked your Flo app calendar. It was perfect timing. You were at the peak of your ovulation cycle. He had no time to waste. You just needed a push in the right direction.

Bucky hoped this was it.

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