#and then i think i temporarily lost my mind

[gravityrises]

The Virtues of Stanford Pines

Summary: I've seen people accuse Ford of doing horrible things on one side, and people defending his actions on the other side. But how about we turn the tables and talk about all of the good Ford has done. (At least, that was the plan.)

Word Count: 2813.

Spoilers: Gravity Falls series, Journal 3, The Book of Bill, Lost Legends, thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com

1. He's incredibly hard-working:

Just because someone is smart doesn't mean they don't put a lot of effort into studying and Ford definitely did. It's mentioned twice just in "A Tale of Two Stans," when he tries to convince the college board to give him another chance and when he describes his years at Backupsmore.

And it doesn't stop at intellectual pursuits. In Journal 3 Ford says he exercises daily, despite having always hated physical activity.

Anyway, I don't think anyone is going to argue this point, so let's leave it at that.

2. He's supportive of his friend:

There are going to be a few controversial takes, but I truly believe that Ford was trying to be a good friend to Fiddleford. Now, there were fights between them, and Ford did say quite a few insensitive things both to his face and in the Journal. But overall, I don't think he ever intended to hurt Fiddleford, and he definitely appreciated his friend's company.

When Ford invited Fiddleford to work on the portal, he wrote in the journal: "He (Fiddleford) has sacrificed so much to come to my aid. He has temporarily left his bride and their young son... he has abandoned his own professional aspirations... I must do my best to make him feel at home.... I am off to the store for some banjo strings and microchips!" (quote shortened, because I'm lazy) Clearly, Ford cared about his friend and wanted to make him feel welcome.

He also compliments Fiddleford's "brilliant mind," "amusing quirks" and scrupulous work ethic, by saying "I double-check my equations. He quintuple-checks!"

And I hear you, didn't he claim the complete opposite in the series? According to him, Fiddleford "was wasting his talent trying to make personal computers", right? Well, if we ignore the fact that the creators weren't 100% consistent in their writing, here's how I would reconcile those two statements. Ford thought (erroneously) that his friend's research wasn't important in the grand scheme of things, but it was important to Fiddleford personally. And can you really blame Ford? He was about to demostrate the existence of other dimensions and create a gateway that would allow us to visit them. If something like that happened irl, it would've been a groundbreaking discovery, altering our very understanding of the natural world and how it works. Meanwhile, laptops, at least in Ford's opinion, were just "heavy, slow journals." Still, he knew this work was important to Fiddleford, and he wanted to accommodate that. Hence, his trip to buy microchips (and banjo strings.)

Ford tried (and unfortunately, failed) to help Fiddleford deal with his anxiety. In Journal 3, he mentions teaching Fiddleford some meditation techniques and going to the Carnival, so that Fiddleford would enjoy "a day of relaxation." In the Book of Bill, Ford feels guilty about not getting his friend a gift and decides to throw a surprise Christmas party instead. This was also an attempt to cheer Fiddleford up after his fight with his wife.

"But Ford didn't take Fiddleford's anxiety seriously, and it ruined his life." Okay, let's say you're right. Remember, Ford was raised in the 60s. A time when mental illness or just mental distress were looked down on. What was he supposed to do? Suggest Fiddleford goes to the therapist? I mean, they were studying paranormal creatures, if Fiddleford told those stories to a therapist who didn't believe in these things, there would've been a really high chance of misdiagnosis. Should Ford have simply fired Fiddleford? Well, that wouldn't have been very nice. Also, there is no need to infantilize Fiddleford in the first place, he's a grown-up person capable of makind his own decisions. If the job is too stressful, if the relationship doesn't work out, he has every right to leave, because his life and mental well-being are his responsibility. Instead, he ignored Ford's warnings and decided to use the Memory Gun and start a cult. It was, by the end of the day, Fiddleford's decision. And it's tragic. It really is. No one deserves to lose their family, their mind and their sense of self. It's something Ford feels guilty about, because whether it was intentional or not, he did indirectly contribute to Fiddleford's downfall. That's why, when they finally reunited after 30 years, Ford apologized to Fiddleford. And according to Journal 3, Fiddleford dissmised his apology, leading Ford to say that "Not only is this man's mind superior to mine, but he has one of the biggest hearts I've ever seen."

3. He has no reservations about helping others out:

There's a reason why Ford's the first person people turn to, when there's a problem. He has both the desire and the skills to help people out. Using Dipper's idea, he stops agents from investigating his family. He goes above and beyond just to change a lightbulb in the kitchen. Though morally questionable, he did give the kids a mind control tie with the intent of helping Stan win the elections. In the comics, Stan turns to Ford when Mabel's face is stolen and when Stan himself is cursed by an old chest.

And that's how things were in the past too. In "The Pines Boys in: The Jersey Devil's in the Details", Ford defends his brother, twice. First, when Filbrick accuses Stan of stealing the gold chain from his pawn shop. And then, when the Sibling Brothers offered Ford to let him keep the monster and become famous in exchange for photos that would prove Stan's guilt. And just to add an incentive, they threatened to frame both twins, if Ford didn't comply. Obviously, it didn't work.

According to thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com, that's also how he became friends with Fiddleford: on the very first day, he spent nine hours helping his new friend prove his theory. And in the Book of Bill, when Ford learns that Bill's home dimension was destroyed by a monster, his immediate reaction is to offer help with hunting it down.

Whenever someone's in distress, Ford really wants to help them out, and I don't know about you, but to me that doesn't sound like someone lacking empathy.

4. He's got no qualms questioning the status quo:

In Journal 3, Ford mentions traveling to Northwest Manor to confront Old Man Northwest with evidence of his family's deceit. Instead, he was met by young Preston, who wasn't impressed with his speech and forcibly escorted Ford from the premises.

Also in Journal 3, Ford wanted to debate politics with Reagan. Make of that what you will.

Now this one is more of a conjecture, but in the Book of Bill, this is how Bill compliments him: "Guys as smart as you come along once every century, and they scare the pants off of authority figures!" This lie wouldn't have worked, if it wasn't what Ford actually wanted.

And of course, learning that his former "muse" is one of the most feared beings in the entire multiverse, didn't stop Ford from going on a quest to defeat Bill. Even after witnessing other creatures shriek and cover their ears at the mere mention of Bill's name. Which leads me to my next point.

5. Calling him determined would be a massive understatement:

Forget his sleepless nights at college, forget his extensive research in Gravity Falls, Ford has spent 30 years, let me repeat that again, 30 years traveling across dimensions and looking for a way to destroy Bill Cipher. I haven't even been alive for that long! From the little we know about those years, they were anything but easy. In fact, Ford describes them as "frightening, exciting, cruel, and strange." (And of course, the guy actually does use the Oxford comma in his writing. Who would've thought?) Let me stress that Ford was under no obligation to continue his quest, maybe he could've found a quiet dimension to settle down and live peacefully, in fact, that's something he contemplates while visiting A Better World in Journal 3. But he decides against it. Not because he didn't want to, he literally says that he wanted to revel in his parallel self's success. Not because defeating Bill would get him recognition. It wouldn't, at least not in his home dimension, where no one is even aware of the danger. No, he didn't stay, because his own conscience wouldn't allow it. Ford just couldn't break his vow from 30 years ago, it's as simple as that.

And what does he do, when his plans fall apart? Does he even consider giving up? Of course not! In fact, he ends his tale of interdimensional travel with the following sentence: "My resolve to defeat Bill has never been stronger." It's almost comical, watching him throw anything he can think of at Bill and see what might stick. His battle in the Nightmare Realm was interrupted? He jumps through the portal to stop Bill's forces from entering his dimension. The portal created an interdimensional rift? He tries to contain it. Bill threatens to get his hands on the rift? This time Ford has two ideas: he tries to encrypt Dipper's thoughts and creates a mystical barrier around the house. The worst happens and the world is about to end? Well, get in loser, we're going to shoot Bill with Quantum Destabilizer. Ford misses and is captured? Not to worry, there's a Zodiac prophecy, we can give that a try. It doesn't work, because two grown men can't put aside their grievances for just a few seconds, gosh that scene is so frustrating to watch. Well, here is another idea: one can erase Bill with a memory gun as long as he's in someone's mind. I don't know what else to say, Ford really did his homework, when he set out to destroy Bill.

6. He has the patience of a saint:

Wow, now here's a controversial take. Remember Stan's "Beep boop. I am a nerd robot. That's you. That's what you sound like," which Ford just laughs off. Yes, that's what siblings do all the time. And yes, this teasing does come from a place of hurt. Stan was feeling like "the stupid twin," "a dumb idiot who screws everything up," so Ford felt like he just had to put up with this. But it's still hurtful to be mocked for your interests. It really feels like their relationship was already a little strained even before the Science Fair Project Incident.

What about the fact that he was the first to stop the fight in "Dungeons, Dungeons, and more Dungeons" and suggesting Stan might actually have fun, if he joined their game?

Or all the snide comments Stan made, when they reunited during Weirdmageddon, including "Well, he's lost his mind" and "You really think some caveman graffiti is gonna stop that monster?" All of which Ford simply ignored. Yes, he did correct Stan's grammar under the worst of circumstances, I agree, but you know, everyone has their pet peeves.

What people often forget is just how difficult it is to be a kind person, when you're stressed. It is much easier to treat people with respect and understanding, when you yourself are doing fine. So is it that big of a surprise, that someone who's under pressure, sleep-deprived and/or in pain might be more prone to outbursts? And we know how traumatic Ford's experience of being bullied as a kid was, how much suffering Bill put him through, how difficult his years on the other side of the portal were and how much pressure he was under, trying to prevent a literal end of the world. It's ironic that the people who blame Ford for his lack of empathy, really don't show him any empathy themselves.

7. Even under torture, he didn't reveal the equation that would've allowed Bill to take over the world:

Do I really have to spell it out? Look, as someone who was on the verge of mental breakdown from a simple toothache, I have nothing else to say other than: This is admirable. And he did it to protect the world that, need I remind you, wasn't particularly kind to him. On the same note, he just never joined Bill in the first place: not in the 80s, and not during Weirdmageddon.

"Oh, but he's the one who started the Apocalypse, so he kind of deserved it." Seriously? No, I mean it, are you being serious? Is that something you would say to a person suffering from diabetes type 2, that it's their fault for eating too many sweets; or to someone with liver cirrhosis that they deserve to suffer because of their alcohol addiction? Because this is neither appropriate, nor helpful. Talk about kicking someone when they're down...

8. He's fiercely loyal to his family:

I think the way Ford compliments his grandniece in "The Last Mabelcorn" is very revealing: "You've protected your family. You're a good person, Mabel." His very definition of a "good person" is "someone who supports and protects their family." Which is... interesting to say the least, considering that Ford has spent a very long time away from his family and completely alone. But it does sound like something he aspires to. That's why he goes out of his way to help his family out, whenever they're in trouble. (See point 3 for more on this.)

When Bill threatens the kids, Ford is willing to risk the entire universe for a slim chance that they might be spared. It's a cruel Trolley Problem, which once again proves just how much he values his family. Still, this is some Fate/Zero level angst and I don't want to talk about it more than I absolutely have to. Let's finish this up with something more lighthearted.

9. He's never lost curiosity and childlike wonder:

This! This is what made me fall in love with the man and why I'm wasting my time writing this nonsense in the first place. This allconsuming excitement, when he finds a new anomaly to study; this seemingly endless energy, when he explores new places; this pure joy, when he gets to play DD&MD with Dipper! I don't know how to talk about it without gushing.

Ford obviously loves games, and not just DD&MD. He plays chess with Bill. He mentions being great at charades in the comics. And what cracks me up the most: during Weirdmageddon, when Pacifica compared the Zodiac to a game of hopscotch, not only did not Ford get offended, but he replied: "It would be a pretty fun game of hopscotch." Ford, darling, the world is about to end, is this really the best time to contemplate a hypothetical game of hopscotch? Also, you've just been through something traumatic... Forget it, you've been through 3 decades of traumatic experiences, can you at least have the decency to become a tad more cynical as you age, like the rest of us. I guess, mirth really is the mail of anguish. (It's from Emily Dickinson's poem and the quote means that some people act cheerful to hide their suffering.)

Also, something Ford doesn't get enough credit for, mostly because people usually focus on his academic achievements, but he is quite creative. He draws incredibly detailed sketches not only depicting various anomalies he encounters, but also whatever happens in his life. (Probably off-topic, but I find the implications of that karaoke page so funny. Think about it: the guy sobered up, looked at the incomprehensible nonsense he had written the previous night and thought: "You know what? This could really use an illustration.") Also don't forget that he canonically plays piano. Yeah, if I were Stan, I'd be jealous too.

And of course, that's why he's so passionate about science. Sure, part of him wants the fame and recognition that would come, if he makes a big discovery, but you can't deny that he genuinely enjoys learning new things. And that he enjoys sharing them with whoever is willing to listen.

In conclusion, I'm not trying to say that Ford is perfect in every way and has never done a single wrong thing in his life. To be honest, that would've made him a really boring character. So, yes, he is flawed, and misguided, and sometimes insensitive. He's made a lot of missteps because of his upbringing, personality and, as many have speculated, neurodivergence. But I really take issue with people saying Ford's a bad person, when he clearly isn't. Ford is and always was a good person, and by the end of all the trials he became a better person. One who understands that the only way to success is cooperation, not being a lone vigilante. That it's not a weakness to ask for help or to need help in the first place. And that a sea otter shared is a sea otter halved.

That's strange... why did I write that?

[laracrofted]

we'd run inside out from the cold

synopsis: jake takes his girlfriend home for christmas. (or i realized jake seresin will never chop down a christmas tree for me and had to soothe the ache somehow.)

pairings: jake seresin x fem!reader (no y/n, a few uses of a call sign)

warnings: all fluff all the time, swearing, just kissing, smut is implied only but jake has some impure thoughts so... 18+, minors dni

note: inspired by this mood board i made. it was supposed to be short and sweet and instead, it's 2000+ words and suggestive. happy december, babes!

tagging a few people who might like this one @theharddeck @double-j @bioodforbiood @t-nd-rfoot @bradshawsbitch (who wrote a winter-themed bob fic that was so cute and cozy, it sent me into a downward spiral. read it here!)

You are nowhere to be found when Jake patters down the stairs, freshly changed from his stiff denim jeans into flannel pajama pants that’d probably fit him back in his Academy days. They’re a little too short now, exposing a stretch of bare ankle between the hem and his wool socks. 

He shivers in the cold stillness of the living room, tugging the sleeves of his sweater down to cover his palms. 

You are the last ones up, and Jake hasn’t unplugged the tree yet, expecting you to stay up a little longer.

You want to put the Christmas cookies in the oven and watch Sandra Bullock and Bill Pullman find love in While You Were Sleeping.

He just wants to wrap his arms around his girl and drift in and out of sleep with you pulled tight against his chest, warm and cozy under a pile of blankets. 

He wants to sneak some raw cookie dough, and when you inevitably scold him for it, lecturing him about salmonella and the like, Jake wants to shut you up with a kiss that tastes like gingerbread and molasses; wants to feel you melt into him like the sugary frosting on his tongue. 

In the soft multicolor glow of the Christmas lights, Jake looks for the familiar shape of you buried under the handmade quilt that Grandma Seresin gave him for Christmas last year. Never mind that Jake has enough quilts to carpet his apartment back in San Diego. Ma has to hold onto the others, keeping them folded upstairs in the closet of his childhood bedroom. 

Still, Jake accepts each new one with a dashing smile and a kiss on her wrinkled cheek.

No one is hidden beneath the quilt.

He folds it over his arm, still warm with her body heat, and Christmas lights gleam off the black iPhone screen on the coffee table. He picks that up too, smiling at the case, clear and covered in little illustrated butterflies that match your call sign. Sets it back down and looks around the room. 

Not in here, Jake thinks. 

He was gone for all of the five minutes and definitely would’ve heard you come upstairs. Ma still hadn’t gotten anyone in to fix the creak in the third and second-to-last stairs. Sounds like a damn cat in heat.

Or… Jake remembers with a slight smirk, like the strangled sound Rooster had let out when Phoenix accidentally nailed him the balls during a round of football one time. They’d never known Rooster’s crows could reach that pitch. 

That reminds him… 

Jake owes Rooster a Christmas Eve text.

He’d gone to the mountains with Maverick for Christmas. Penny Benjamin rented some picturesque cabin in the woods, in an area that was known for good skiing and snowboarding, so Rooster was probably having the time of his life. Still, Jake wants to check in, just in case joining the Mitchell and Benjamin family unit hadn’t gone well. 

He punches out the text. 

A casual, non-invasive How’s it going with Mav? that Rooster immediately responds to with a string of emojis that’d be unintelligible to anyone who doesn’t spend 40+ hours a week with the dude. He seems to be having a good enough time, so Jake slides his phone back into his pocket, looks down at the abandoned phone again.

“Now,” Jake says out loud. “Where did you sneak off to, sweetheart?” 

His voice is almost too loud in the near silent room, and Jake cocks his head to listen more closely for any signs of his girl. He is met with the low buzz of the baseboard heaters and the occasional whoosh of the wind blowing snow against the windows. 

He shivers again, and Jake has an epiphany. 

It shouldn’t be so cold in here with the heat on, which means…

He pokes his head into the kitchen and sees the back door is open. Not enough to let the weather in, just a precaution someone might take to keep themselves from getting locked out. Someone smart, like Jake’s girlfriend. 

He grabs his snow boots, pulls them on over his socks, and quilt in hand, slips out into the bitter night. 

Snow crunches softly under his boots, and Jake will need to sweep the snow from the deck in the morning. He already did it this afternoon, after getting back from the Christmas Tree Farm, but Texas is facing a historically cold winter with record snowfall this week.

Snow paints a pretty picture for a white Christmas, making everything glitter and gleam in the pale moonlight. 

Nothing could ever paint as pretty a picture as the one Jake finds outside.

You’re bundled in one of his old coats, a nice one with a fur-lined hood, and a familiar knit hat. Ma made that one, and after you forgot your beanie in your suitcase, Jake made a big show of setting it on your head during their search for the perfect Christmas tree this afternoon.

He purposely pulled it down too far, covering your eyes too. You scrunched your nose at him and acted all annoyed, but Jake could see the pleased glow to your cheeks, already flushed from the cold. 

It made him feel the same way that Jake feels right now, like your visible happiness is a hot lance through his heart. You’re seated on the brick stairs that lead down to the yard and the stables, but Jake holds back and watches his girl for a moment, unobserved. 

How in the world did Jake Seresin become to the luckiest man alive?

He was always the insensitive one, always the asshole, always second-best even after giving every part of himself over to the pursuit of ice-cold perfection. Him. 

He presses his hand to the soft material of his woolen sweater, right over that aching spot in his chest, and lets out a deep breath. 

“There you are,” Jake says, calling your name. You half-turn.

Snowflakes catch in the hair that escapes from the hat, shining in the dim light from the kitchen windows, and Jake brushes it from the jacket, dropping onto the step beside his girl. He can feel the wet snow seeping into the flannel pants, making them damp. He doesn’t mind much.

You smile at him, bright as the Christmas lights on the tree inside, glittering as the fresh snow on the ground in the blue beams of moonlight. Lean your head on his shoulder.

He wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you against the line of his side, wanting you as close as possible. Not even an inch of space between you. 

He always wants you there. 

Ma was the first of his family members to notice, though Jake’s sisters didn’t take long to catch on too. Damn Seresin women…

“She’s not gonna disappear while I’ve got you washing the salad forks,” Ma joked, smacking him lightly on the shoulder with a plaid hand towel. 

He probably deserved that, missing her prompt to pass the pile of utensils yet again because Jake was too busy looking over his shoulder, tracking you from across the room. 

He whipped his head back around, face warm. 

Ma didn’t miss that either.

“Look at that…” Ma commented, taking the bundle of spoons that Jake handed her and dunking them into the soapy water. “You two gonna okay sleeping in separate rooms? Wouldn’t want you to come down with separation anxiety.” 

“Give it a rest, Ma,” Jake grumbled, embarrassed. He blamed the heat of the still-warm over for the blush that crept down his neck. He waited until Ma was preoccupied looking down at the sink before Jake cast another quick look over his shoulder. 

You might not be sharing a room, but Jake sneaks across the hall into the guest bedroom every night to slip beneath the comforter for a few blissful hours, one arm underneath the pillow, the other wrapped around your torso, cradling you against him. Legs so intertwined that when Jake has to untangle himself to lean over and kiss you in the early morning, slithering his hand across your collarbone, coaxing your head back with a gentle press of his fingers. 

It is hard to leave you there, softly moaning into his mouth in the pre-dawn blue, but Jake has to be back in his own bed before Ma gets up to feed the horses. He’s starting to get dark circles under his eyes from doing it every morning. It’s well worth it. 

“Didn’t meant to disappear, babe. Just wanted to see the snow at night.” Your words are barely louder than a whisper, brushing against the side of Jake’s neck, as if you’re matching the muffled tone of the snowfall. “So quiet out here.” 

“It is,” Jake agrees. “Far cry from San Diego.” 

He notices your knee bouncing and unfolds the quilt over your legs, cocooning you both in a pocket of warmth. It’s cold enough out to fog the windows and cover them in a thin sheet of frost, and Jake can see the puff of your breaths. 

You are warm against his side. 

Soft again, quiet as snow. “Thank you for bringing me here.” 

He swings his gaze to look at you, pitching your chin up with two fingers and looking into your sparkling eyes. It hits him again. Adoration pierces through him, right through the heart, and Jake strokes the side of your face with the pad of his thumb.

You sneak your hand from under the blanket, reaching up to cup the side of his face in turn. Run your palm across the prickled scruff that’s grown on his jaw over the past few days. 

He leans into your hold, closing his eyes for a hushed moment.  

And then Jake pulls back, catching your hand in his and kissing the center of your palm, then interlacing your fingers. 

“Thanks for comin’ with me, Butterfly,” Jake murmurs, leaning down to press an affectionate kiss to your cheek. You happen to turn at the same time, eyes bright, and Jake catches your mouth. 

Your lips are cold, but Jake makes quick work of warming them, coaxing them open, licking into your mouth. You taste honey sweet. Like the white wine from dinner and peaches from the after-dinner cobbler, and Jake drinks in every bit of sweetness, every soft sigh that spills from your lips. 

Hands itching to pull apart the buttons of the coat, to tug the loose sweater away from your neck and press open-mouthed kisses all the way down the line of your throat… 

Jake breaks the kiss. 

Leans his forehead against yours to catch his breath, calming the heart that’s threatening to beat out of his chest, racing like a wild horse.  

“You okay there?” 

He can hear the amusement in your voice. 

A smile tugs at his lips. “Just… Give me a second while I hold back the urge to lay you down in the snow and…” He lets the sentence die. All in the name of holding back the urge. 

You laugh. It echoes like the jingle of bells around the snowy woods.

Wind whooshes through the frosted trees, carrying your laugh back to you, and Jake notices more and more snowflakes gathering on their sleeves, frosting your delicate eyelashes. It’s starting to come down harder. 

“We should head inside,” Jake says, pushing up to his feet. He shakes the snow from the quilt, making a mental note to hang it over the staircase railing to dry overnight. 

You look up at him, and Jake holds out a hand. 

Your eyes sparkle with mischief. “Head inside to watch the movie and make cookies, right?” 

He shakes his head, smirking. “No. I’ve got to get out of these wet pants before I get hypothermia. Thanks to you.” 

Hand slipping into his, Jake watches your mouth drop open, biting down on his lip. He tugs you to your feet, fast enough to send you crashing into his chest, just to hear that familiar surprised exhale shoot from your parted lips.

You look at him with narrowed eyes. “Watch it, Lieutenant. I’m cold too.” 

“Really?” He walks you back under the shelter of the doorway, shield you from the snow with his torso. Icicles glean from the edge of the roof. “Don’t want you getting hypothermia either then, darling. Think I might need to run a midnight shower for the both of us. How’s that sound?” 

Home makes his accent thicker, and Jake plays it up even more, watching the way your lashes flutter against your cheeks. He’s got you, hook, line, and sinker. 

“What about the cookie dough?” is the only protest that falls from your lips. 

“Put ‘em back in the fridge,” Jake instructs, leading you back inside and closing the door behind you both.

 “And don’t you worry, sweetheart…” He presses the next words into the hollow right below your ear, planting a wet kiss there, skating his tongue out to lick the delicate skin. “I’ll go easy on you. You’ve got to be able to get on a horse tomorrow.” 

A wonderful gasp graces his ears, and Jake can’t help his grin. 

You scowl at him, but Jake feels you shiver against him. His grin widens, sharp and intent. He heads back into the living room to unplug the Christmas lights.

Ma sees you headed back from the horseback ride early on Christmas morning before the rest of the Seresin clan will come around to exchange well wishes and open presents.

Frowning slightly, Ma pulls him aside and asks, “Where’d you take that girl this morning?” 

Brows furrowed, Jake recounts the route, taking you around a local trail that ran the length of a frozen stream and gave you a good view of the stables, dusted in white like a gingerbread house. You’d been giddy at the picturesque view, wearing an old film camera around your neck to snap a few shots. You’d pressed your gratitude against the line of his neck, and Jake probably needed a cold shower before changing into his Christmas attire.

“It was an easy one,” Jake asks, confused. “Why?” 

“Wasn’t a rough ride with the snow, was it? She’s limpin’ a little bit.” 

And Jake buries his grin behind a cough. 

end note: butterfly comes from me listening to phoebe bridgers's so much wine cover on repeat while writing this. hope you liked it, but i'd love to hear your thoughts and feelings!

part two with the shower smut, lmk? now posted here!

[lousylemonseminar]

dude im so curious about your doppelgilly/queen ship (<- guy with an entire domesticated villain doppelgilly au in which he gradually gets attached to the crew and tones down from Genuine Threat to Gillion's Annoying Emo Little Brother) i beg of you tell me more

REALLY. REALLY REALLY OH MY GOSH HUGEST DREAM EVER .

ANNOYING LITTLE EMO BROTHER GOES HUGE AND I SEE HIM THE EXACT SAME WAY 😭

I had this whole comic thing I was gonna do with my sideblog that was really silly and involved DG being dragged out of the void by niklaus and the Albatrio has him on parol on board until he s rehabilitated

And this is very silly and uncanon but a lot of stuff about Doppelgillys life not being his anymore and never having actually lived in the memories he was made with (or somethjfngb) causes him to like. Gravitate towards Queen because he never even knew what her life was like!!! And they’re both people who have insane potential to just steer off into horrific paths

OH MY GOODNESS GRAVY just Doppelgilly guy who remembers a home he’ll never truly have because he’ll never be seen as actually Gillion and Queen girl who is scared of the one they had prior and how it’ll drive them once they figure it out I just really think they’d be familiar with each others situation and I’d like to think they’d comfort one anotherrr ejfbbf

In exchange May I hear about that au and do you have any posts on it looking at you with wide eyes

[ssaseaprince]

I have a tattoo of Mads as Hannibal, and we accidentally gave him eyebrows. I think it's hysterical idc

[cairoscene]

thats a lot of horny ghostbat

is there any other kind of ghostbat

[mayjeffneverstopyou]

.

[bunnis-monsters]

Cat hybrid reader going through her first heat after taking heat suppresent pills all her life with werewolf husband(NSFW obv). This sounds kinda cute in my head.... I can't explain it.... Like getting married and then finally deciding that you want to let yourself go through a natural process which you were suppressing all your life.

Happy 5k! If this isn't something you'll write, I am sorry, please do not block me, I can't tell if this is following the rules or not.

Your husband held your hand as you started the morning without taking your heat suppressant pill for the first time.

You wanted to have kittens with him so badly, and he wanted to fuck you full of pups, so the two of you decided that it was beast for you to temporarily stop taking them so you could mate properly.

“You think it’ll be okay?” he asked, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand.

You frowned, leaning against him. “I’m not sure… it’ll take a few days for the suppressant to leave my system. I’ll find out then…”

And find out you did.

Your husband returned home after a long day of work, only for his cock to immediately strain against his pants when he picked up the smell of your heat. He could hear your desperate little mews from the bedroom, walking in to see you crying and begging for release.

You had never felt such an ache in your cunt, and had never really felt the urge to masturbate so you had no idea what to do. He watched you struggle to finger yourself and play with your clit, your pretty kitty tail rubbing against your fat, wet pussy.

“Poor baby, can’t even make herself cum…”

He fucked his fingers into you, making your back arch. “Mmph! P-please, need more!”

You panted, your body feeling like it was on fire. His fingers were a little help, but it was like throwing a bucket of water on a house fire.

You needed more.

“Shh, sweetheart. Gotta stretch you out, okay? Can you be my good girl and wait for me?”

He moved his fingers in a scissoring motion, trying his best to stretch you out as quickly as possible.

You nearly lost it when you felt him kiss your inner thigh, his lips moving to your fat pussy. He licked your clit, sucking on it as his fingers kept fucking into you.

After a few moments you cried out, cumming on his fingers and writhing on the bed. Orgasming while in heat was like nothing you’d ever felt before!

Your entire body spasmed as he pulled out his fingers from your aching pussy with a wet squelch. It took him a second to compose himself, watching your pussy ooze. There was a mess under your hips already, and your scent alone was driving him insane!

He already towered over you, but now he seemed to loom over your body like a predator ready to pounce on its prey.

He rolled you onto your fat tummy, lifting your hips so he could properly mount you. By now, he was going off of pure instinct, ready to breed his fertile little mate.

“Mew…”

You let out a pathetic little meow as he sunk into you. The two of you had sex before, but now it was an entirely different experience.

The pleasure was multiplied tenfold, and he was so much more intense than he had been previously. “Wanna make puppies with you! W-wanna-!”

You buried your face into the pillow as he pounded your kitty cunt. His grip on your tail made you cry out, arching your back so he could reach you better.

Your hips and legs were easily lifted off the bed as he began using your fat pussy to get off, his mind fat gone. You didn’t mind, the feeling of him knotting you and filling your belly with cum over and over again was the only thing helping to calm the heat in your body.

The next day, your mate fussed over you, feeling terrible that he went overboard and lost control.

“I’m sorry, little one… your heat, it just-“

You butted your head against him affectionately, purring as he began to pet you.

“I think it’s what I needed… thank you for being with me for my first heat.”

“Of course… I’m your husband and mate, it’s my responsibility to take care of you.”

The two of you spent the morning cuddling in bed, soft purrs and loving mews filling the air.

——————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @screaming-crying-screamingagain @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @j3llyphisching @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljr

[imjustreadinglmao]

BLUE PART II

Paring: Azriel x reader, Lucien x platonic!reader

Series summary: After Azriel and Elain‘s courtship is revealed, their mates, Lucien and Y/N, are left to deal with the consequences. While fighting against Koschei and for Prythian‘s freedom, Y/N has to navigate her emotions and learn how to live with the heartbreak of a one sided mating bond. But what happens when secrets are revealed and everything turns out differently than they thought?

Warnings: unrequited love, death, detailed descriptions of fights and blood, angst, characters being idiots

A/N: my last azrielxreader post won’t appear in the tags so reblogs are very much appreciated.

Word count: 3.3k

It’s a beautiful, crisp spring morning. The sun is shining, birds are singing, and the wind carries the lovely scent of freshly baked pies. I sigh at the prospect of leaving this peaceful place and trading it for the Autumn Court.

As I push the heavy oak doors of the River House open, I can feel anxiety coursing through my veins. After fleeing Autumn seventy-three years ago, I didn’t expect to return there so soon, even if only temporarily. It was difficult for me to leave. I couldn’t risk telling anyone about my plans, so I never had the chance to say goodbye.

Knowing my father, he had probably been more concerned about how me leaving would affect his standing with the High Lord and the other noble families. But my mother and sister… I would give a lot to see them again.

All those years, I have missed the familiarity of my home court, the traditions, and the celebrations I cherished so much as a child.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself as I step into the foyer. Rhysand, Amren, Azriel, and Lucien are already there, waiting for me.

Except for Lucien and me, who are wearing traditional Autumn Court attire, everyone else is dressed in midnight black.

Lucien looks up as I enter, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “You look… convincing,” he says.

I let out a breathy laugh at that. The last time he saw me in Autumn colors was at a ball my family hosted, which ended with me puking my guts out, most of it landing on Lucien’s shoes.

Judging by the face he is making, he hasn’t forgotten either.

Azriel, standing beside him, nods in agreement. “It suits you,” he says quietly, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary.

His shadows peek over his shoulder as if they want to take a look too.

I try to ignore the flutter of emotions his words stir within me. Instead, I focus on the mission ahead, on the role I must play. The safety of Prythian depends on our success, and I can’t afford to let myself get distracted.

Rhysand steps forward, a mischievous smile on his face. “I have to say, you both pull off Autumn Court fashion far better than I expected. Maybe we should visit the Autumn Court more often.”

Amren, her eyes assessing our disguises, retorts, “If you spent as much time on strategy as you do on fashion critiques, we’d have won the war by now.”

I have to cover my mouth to not laugh out loud and accidentally anger the century-old creature that’s lurking beneath that Fae body.

Rhys just rolls his eyes, clearly undeterred by her sharp tone. “I’ll have you know that looking good is part of the strategy.”

With one last look at me, he stretches out his hand and asks, “Ready?”

I nod, take his hand, and let him winnow me away.

———————————————————

Arriving at the southern border of the Autumn Court, I am immediately struck by the beauty of the landscape. The trees here are taller than I remember, their leaves a riot of red, orange, and gold, perpetually caught in the peak of autumn. The air carries the earthy scent of fallen leaves and the smoke of distant fires burning in hearths.

As we step onto the moss-covered ground, bittersweet memories flood my mind. I find myself thinking of the simpler days of my youth, the carefree ones.

I feel dark talons gently scraping at the shields in my mind and lwt Rhys in. So lost in the beautiful nature, I barely realize him wishing us good luck and winnowing back to Velaris.

Right after Rhys leaves, Azriel begins to scout the area for any magical traps or shields set by Koschei, leaving us to wait for his return. As the minutes stretch into an hour, my anxiety starts to build.

I pace restlessly, my mind conjuring all sorts of terrible scenarios.

Lucien tries to reassure me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“He’ll be fine,” Lucien says softly. “Azriel knows what he’s doing.”

But his words do little to calm me.

“How can you be so sure? He could be injured… or worse. We don’t know what Koschei is capable of!” I snap.

I begin to ramble, listing every possible way Azriel could have gotten hurt. “What if he’s caught in a trap? What if there’s a magical barrier he can’t break?”

Just thinking about him being in trouble makes me want to vomit. “That’s it. He’s taken long enough. I’m going to find him and—”

Amren steps in, her voice cutting through my panic. “Enough. Get your shit together. We don’t have time for this.”

Her bluntness shocks me into silence, and I sulk, feeling chastised.

But Amren isn’t finished. “Oh, quit acting like a child. Maybe if you told him about your feelings and the mating bond, you wouldn’t be so anxious, girl.”

My mouth drops open and I look to Lucien, his face also morphed into shock. When I look back to Amren, she just lifts an eyebrow.

“How do you know about the bond?”

Amren lets out a long sigh. “Only someone stupid wouldn’t have picked up on that. And Azriel being the stupidest of all.”

She rolls her eyes and starts picking at her nails. “We all suspected it. For a while we thought it snapped for Azriel too. The way he followed you around like a love sick fool, we were sure of it. But I guess it didn’t.”

I don’t say anything else after that, my mind not coming up with a response.

——————————————————

Another hour passes, and my worry only deepens. I can’t stop imagining Azriel injured or trapped, his shadows unable to find a way back to us. Every rustle of the leaves makes me jump, hoping it’s him returning.

Lucien tries to keep me distracted, but my thoughts are a whirl of dread. He tells me stories of his own missions, but I can’t focus on his words. My mind is entirely on Azriel.

Finally, just as the sun reaches its peak, Azriel returns. He looks slightly worse for wear, his clothes torn in some places and his face smeared with dirt, but otherwise unharmed. He notices the tension immediately, his eyes narrowing in concern.

“What happened?” Azriel asks, looking between us.

I step toward him, my relief overwhelming. “Are you okay? What took you so long?”

Azriel nods, his expression serious. “There were more traps than I anticipated. It took a while to disable them all, but the path should be clear now.”

Amren crosses her arms. “Good. We don’t have time for any more delays.”

Lucien places a hand on my shoulder again, this time with a reassuring squeeze. “See? I told you he’d be fine.”

I manage a weak smile, still shaken by the fear that gripped me. Azriel’s eyes soften as he looks at me.

“We should move quickly,” Azriel says, breaking the moment. “It won’t be long till they notice that their shields and traps were destroyed. Amren and I will accompany you to the Forrest House, then we’ll separate and follow the original plan. It’s too dangerous otherwise. We can’t risk you.”

Lucien nods and gestures for me to go first. “Let’s get moving then. The sooner we’re done here, the better.”

We begin to move deeper into the forest, leading to Beron’s residence. The beauty of the surroundings contrasts sharply with the danger I know lurks nearby.

As we walk, I steal glances at Azriel, wondering how he can be so calm and collected all the time.

Gods, I nearly lost my mind over him doing his job. I am a hypocrite for snapping at him the other day. Yes, I am mad at him for courting Elain, but I also can’t expect him to be loyal to me when he doesn’t even know that we’re mates.

How different things would be if it had just snapped for him the second it did for me...

It happened three years ago. Unbeknownst to us, we were just celebrating the last winter solstice without Rhys when it snapped into place.

One moment I was admiring him from afar, the next I was connected to him for the rest of my immortal life.

He had still been in love with Mor back then, so I chose not to say anything. A huge mistake, because soon after, Elain came into the picture.

Truthfully, I never thought they were anything more than friends until I overheard Rhysand ordering Azriel to stay away from her. It wasn’t until then that I realized I had lost him forever. He wasn’t going to stay away from her, so I accepted my fate and kept silent.

———————————————————

After five hours of hiking through bushes, stepping in rabbit holes, and nearly getting killed by a boar, I can feel the exhaustion creeping into my bones.

“Can we please take a break? My legs are going to fall off,” I ask.

Amren smirks, not breaking her stride. “And here I thought you were tougher than this.”

Only Rhysand’s plea to behave and work together holds me back from strangling her. Gods, she really is a cranky hag.

Lucien chuckles softly and turns to me. “We’re only a few minutes away. Hang in there.”

I groan but press on. As we finally crest a hill, the sight of Beron’s castle comes into view, exactly as I remembered it. The imposing structure looms against the deep orange sky, its dark stone walls lined with creeping ivy. Tall, narrow windows glint in the dawning light.

“It’s just like I remember,” I whisper, a mixture of awe and dread washing over me.

Lucien glances at me, his expression unreadable. “Let’s get ready. We need to find a way to get in there.” He points to the entrance of the castle, where nobles are lined up to enter the masquerade ball hosted by the High Lord himself.

We slip through the dense forest that surrounds the castle, our movements silent and precise. Azriel scouts ahead, his shadows cloaking him in near invisibility. After what feels like an eternity, we find a secluded spot to prepare for our infiltration.

“Here,” Amren hands both Lucien and me a stack of clothes. “These are your disguises. You will pose as Lord and Lady Hawthorn. The late Lord Hawthorn died three months ago. You are recently married with no offspring or heir yet. This is your first outing as Lord and Lady. Some might recognize your name, though they should not look twice your way. Be discreet and don’t draw attention.”

“What about the real Lord and Lady Hawthorn? What if they decide to turn up and out us as imposters?” I ask.

Azriel shifts on his feet and answers a bit sheepishly, “Don’t worry, they have already been dealt with.”

My brows furrow in confusion. “What do you—” realization dawns over me. “Oh… oh, okay. I guess that makes this a lot easier.”

I grab the clothes Amren gave me and head for the nearest bush to change. When I look back, Azriel has his head tilted sideways and smiles at me.

The dress I change into is a deep burgundy, adorned with delicate golden embroidery.

The fabric is soft and luxurious and fits me like a second skin. The mask is made of similar fabric, with intricate golden lace around the edge of it.

As I step out from behind the bush, my eyes find Azriel’s immediately.

His eyes, usually so guarded, widen slightly as they take in my appearance, his gaze lingering on the details of my dress and the way it clings to my form.

“You look… stunning,” he murmurs, his voice low and sincere.

I feel a blush rise to my cheeks and look away, focusing on Lucien. Lucien is similarly attired, his outfit complementing mine with its dark tones and subtle elegance.

He grins at me. “Shall we, Lady Hawthorn?”

I bark out a laugh. “We shall, Lord Hawthorn.”

———————————————————

Getting inside the Forrest House was easier than expected. We just walked right up to the entrance, stated our names, handed them our fake invites, and were ushered in.

As we step into the grand ballroom, the sheer opulence of the scene takes my breath away.

Crystal chandeliers hang from the high ceilings, casting a warm glow over the sea of elegantly dressed nobles. Musicians play softly in one corner, their melodies mingling with the murmur of conversation and the clinking of glasses.

At the far end of the room, atop a raised dais, sits Beron, his cold gaze sweeping over the crowd. To his right stands Eris. Our eyes meet briefly, and I give a subtle nod, which he returns.

Lucien and I mingle with the guests, keeping our eyes and ears open, waiting for Eris to give us our signal.

As Beron rises from his throne, a hush falls over the grand ballroom. The guests turn their attention to him. He begins to address the crowd, his voice echoing through the vast space.

“Welcome, esteemed guests, to this celebration of our enduring legacy and power,” Beron proclaims, his tone laced with self-satisfaction.

Just as he is about to continue, the heavy doors of the ballroom burst open. A squadron of Eris’s soldiers rushes in, their armor clanking loudly. The crowd parts like a tide, murmurs of confusion and fear rippling through the room.

Beron’s confident façade falters, replaced by one of anger and panic. “What is the meaning of this?” he demands, his voice rising in pitch as he glares at the soldiers.

Eris steps forward, his demeanor calm and resolute. “Father,” he begins, his voice carrying a chilling edge, “it is time. Your reign has been marked by tyranny and cruelty, and I will no longer stand by and watch my people suffer under your rule.”

Beron’s eyes narrow, a sneer curling his lips. “You think you can overthrow me, Eris? It takes more than a few soldiers to claim this throne.”

Eris begins to smile. “Oh, I know. A noble to swear me in and an heir to secure the lineage, right? Well, here they are.” He gestures to Lucien and me.

My eyes widen as I whisper-shout in Lucien’s ear, “He cannot be serious? THIS is his plan?!”

Lucien replies, equally as quiet. “I have learned a long time ago not to question my brother’s way of handling things.”

“You are truly deluded, Eris.” Beron laughs, a harsh, mocking sound. “They won’t accept a random noble as your heir.”

Eris stands his ground, his gaze unwavering. “But they will. Take off your masks,” he says to Lucien and me.

And so we do. Nobles everywhere are gawking at us. Some eyes fixed on me, most on Lucien.

Beron steps down from the dais. “What a surprise. The lost son finally returns home.” He turns his gaze to me. “And you, you’re Lord Yarrow’s daughter, no?”

I don’t answer. Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could. I’m rooted in place, not taking my eyes off Beron.

Beron turns to Eris again. “Well, it seems you really are full of surprises. But you’re forgetting one important thing. You would have to kilI me to claim the throne. And you’ve always been weak, Eris. You’re not strong enough, but you shall try.”

In that moment, I realize what Eris was doing. He was provoking his father into accepting his challenge, and Beron just did exactly that.

“I’ve had a long time to prepare.”

And with that, all hell breaks loose.

———————————————————

Chaos erupts as Beron and Eris clash, their swords flashing in the bright light of the ballroom. Beron's strikes are powerful, but Eris is swift and precise, his fire magic flaring up with every swing.

Lucien and I are quickly surrounded by Beron's soldiers. The nobles' screams fill the air as they flee the room in terror. I manage to grab a blade as the first soldier aims right for my neck.

My heart races as I parry another soldier's blow, my muscles straining with each clash of steel. Lucien fights beside me, his own fire magic scorching the air around us, incinerating our enemies with fiery blasts.

The ballroom is a whirlwind of chaos.

As we cut through the soldiers, our eyes are locked on the fight between Eris and Beron. We try to reach them, but more and more of Beron’s soldiers are streaming in.

Eris and his father fight with brutal intensity, their swords ringing out as they meet. Eris dodges and strikes with a precision that keeps Beron on his toes, but his experience gives him the upper hand, forcing Eris back step by step.

Just as Lucien and I are within seconds of reaching Eris and Beron, the ballroom doors burst open again. Five of Koschei's soldiers, dark magic radiating from them, storm in. They immediately begin slaughtering nobles, women, and children alike. Their dark magic tears through Eris's soldiers as if they were paper.

Lucien and I have no choice but to turn away from Eris and Beron and face Koschei’s magic wielders.

I take several hits to the gut, and a sword slices across my cheek, but I fight on, managing to take down one of the dark soldiers. Lucien, with his fire magic, kills two more, but before the third soldier is turned into ash, he drives a sword straight through Lucien’s chest.

Lucien collapses to his knees, blood pouring from the wound. I rush to his side, my heart pounding in my chest. Lucien's eyes flutter, and he tries to speak, but I stop him. "Save your energy," I beg.

He begins to close his eyes, the loss of blood making him weaker and weaker. "Lucien, stay with me!" I cry, trying to stem the flow of blood with my hands.

I have to get him to a healer fast; otherwise, he will bleed out. So I do the only thing I can think of.

Desperate, I tug on the bond with Azriel, praying that he will sense my distress.

A moment later, Azriel bursts into the room, Amren in tow. Azriel’s eyes widen with panic as he spots me and Lucien. He rushes to us, dropping to his knees beside Lucien.

"Azriel, you have to winnow him back to Velaris," I plead. "Find Madja , now!"

Azriel looks torn. "I can't leave you," he says, his voice tight with fear. “I— not like this. Not with you being my—”

"Amren is here, I’ll be fine," I insist, glancing at Amren, who is finishing off the last two of Koschei’s soldiers. "Please, Azriel! I can’t watch him die. I am begging you, just go, please!"

Azriel nods reluctantly, wrapping his arms around Lucien. With a final, desperate look at me, he winnows away, leaving me behind in the chaos.

With Azriel and Lucien gone, I feel a pang of anxiety, but I have no time to dwell on it. I turn back to the fight, watching as Eris and the High Lord continue their deadly duel.

Around me, the battle rages on. I join Amren, who is ruthlessly dispatching the remaining dark soldiers with a ferocity that belies her small stature.

Together, we fight our way through the chaos, our movements synchronized from years of fighting side by side.

We are fighting for what feels like hours. My arms ache from dealing blow after blow, and my eyes are getting blurry from the lack of sleep.

I steal a glance at Eris and Beron, watching as they exchange hits. Eris manages to land a few blows, but Beron shrugs them off.

The two of them are evenly matched, but the High Lord’s power coursing through Beron's veins gives him a slight edge.

Suddenly, Beron lunges forward, his sword aimed at Eris's heart. Eris barely manages to block the strike, their blades locking together. Fire erupts between them, and for a moment, it looks like Eris might be overpowered.

But Eris digs deep, summoning a burst of strength. He pushes Beron back, their swords disengaging with a loud clang. Eris's flames burn brighter, and he steps forward, pressing the attack.

The next moment, everything is quiet. No swords clashing, no screaming, just utter quiet.

As the flames subside, there, in the middle of the ballroom, not moving, is Beron.

The High Lord of the Autumn Court is dead.

[yoredoesmore]

Okay I have a request with Hoshina Soshiro. So maybe some angst thing but fluff. Okay so since reader joined hoshina team she flirted with him, give him things , complement him yk? And he would mostly ignore her, give her extra training ANYTHING to make her go away cuz he didn't want to lose her on mission (dangerous job) but she didn't know that. So it lasted for like long time and a new member joined and he started to flirt with reader, give her flowers itp. And she unfortunately thought that making hoshina love her is like against his own will. She doesn't want to be a b so she leaves him alone. And he doesn't like that at all? I love that kind of fanfic. 🎀

Words cannot describe how much i love this request!! thank you so much for this, i hope you enjoy what i came up with!!

Attention | Hoshina Soshiro

pairing: jealous!hoshina soshiro x reader

summary: you stop giving hoshina your attention and he doesn't like that at all.

genre: romance/angst/jealousy/fluff | [wc: 3.3k ]

a/n: my very first request (so exciting!!) i hope i do your wishes justice! hoshina is kinda mean in this one, lol ^^

enjoy!

“Vice Captain Hoshina!” You chimed in an enthusiastic voice, your body moving over to the man's disappearing figure. The vice captain did not even bother to turn around, nor halt in his footsteps as he heard you approach him. Even as you finally catched up, his gaze remained focused on the scene ahead.

“Today's mission went surprisingly well, don't you think!” Excitement hung in your voice, even as Vice Captain Hoshina remained unbothered by your presence. You were all too used to his unbothered demeanor, his avoiding gazes and the lingering silence, therefore you did what you always did in these situations– keep the conversation alive.

“But honestly, with you as our Vice Captain I didn't expect anything else–���

“Your movements towards the end of the battle were sloppy and unprofessional. Talking about a successful mission, tsk, is there nothing else but air in your head? You could have seriously gotten hurt.” His voice was sharp and mocking but the worst part was, it stung.

It has been a little over a year since you joined the Third Division. Despite all your attempts of building a healthy relationship between you and the Vice Captain, nothing much has changed so far. All the compliments, all the gifts and hard work– none of them had been able to bring change to your chemistry. And watching him turn into this jolly ball of joy when talking to the other cadets definitely didn't make you feel better either. It sometimes discouraged you from continuing this sad pursuit of his attention, but only sometimes.

“Seriously, If you wanna stay in this division and continue being part of these missions you gotta be better than that. What even happened back there?!’

A strong force rushed through your lungs, your mind recalling the last minutes of battle. It silenced you immediately.

A Yoju had appeared right behind your exhausted figure, catching you off guard. In any normal situation you would have drawn your weapon at light speed and blast right through the monster but something had stopped you.

The Vice Captain himself.

Nobody else saw it, how could they have– Vice Captain Hoshina did his best to conceal his little mistake. But you took notice of it, of the Vice Captain actually missing his target. It was unexpected to say the least, distracting as well. But the Kaiju blood that ran down his face, temporarily took his vision and that caused his momentum to shift. He lost his balance for a split second and let the Yoju escape from his weapon. He immediately caught up with the monster but the worry that engulfed your stomach was enough to temporarily cause your brain to shut down.

If it hadn't been for Reno calling you back into reality you would have seriously gotten hurt indeed.

“I apologize Cap–”

“Don't bother.” And with that said he left the scene, joining the others in a discussion of how to proceed with the mission.

“Are you alright Y/n..?” Shinomiya approached you, her gentle hand finding its way on your shoulders.

“Yes, I'm alright. Guess he wasn't in the mood to talk, haha..”

This was just one of many failed attempts of you trying to charm Hoshina.

About a week later you were wandering through the hallways of Tachikawa Base. The sun had long kissed the world goodnight, leaving only the dimmed light of the moon to illuminate the building. Sleep was unable to find you, thus you decided to take a short stroll around the building.

It calmed you, watching the stars live in perfect harmony with the moon. They were able to enjoy its presence, even from a distance– just like you were still able to appreciate Hoshina.

He wasn't all that bad honestly. What happened a week ago was a rare occasion, he only got worked up like that when you gave a sloppy performance during a mission.

Perhaps he just wanted you to improve? One could view your way of thinking as delusional, yes, but you preferred to think that you were just optimistic.

On your way back to your dorm you heard subtle sounds in the distance. A few grunts here and some equipment being moved there. Allowing curiosity to take the best of you, you investigated the strange noise. What you found left you shocked and motionless.

The Vice Captain was up and about in the training room, moving in ways you have so rarely seen him in. His body became one with his weapon, it was as if they molded into one to perform something magical. Seeing him in action, in his element, it reminded you why you still chased after Hoshina. He was just perfect in every single aspect, from looks to abilities. You watched him just a little longer, until you decided to step back and return to your dorm to not get into any trouble for being up so late.

“And where do you think you're going?” A single sentence from his lips was enough for your body to become imobile. The Vice Captain was the scariest during battles, when neutralizing Kaiju, everybody knew that. But whatever vibe he was emitting right now, it felt just as dangerous. With each step he took towards your body you could feel your limbs grow weaker and weaker.

“It's quite disrespectful to stare. And on top of that you're walking around past the curfew. Honestly Y/n, it's starting to get annoying.”

“I apologize. I couldn't sleep, that's why I–”

“Give me 50.” Hoshina interrupted you, turning back around to collect his things.

“I..are you serious?” The last thing you wanted was to sound disrespectful, but his cold demeanor was starting to affect you in a way you had hoped it never would.

His body bent forward to grab both his katana and zip jacket. For only a moment his eyes met yours.

“Yes. And while you're already at it, try working on your reflexes and stealth as well, I could hear you from miles away. Your mistakes of last week's battle could have cost you your life. Don't let it happen again."

His gaze fell onto the ground and his grip on the jacket tightened. Like always you were unable to make out what concrete emotions he was hiding behind those eyes but his voice pretty much gave away what state he was currently in.

He was pissed.

As Hoshina walked towards the exit, he made sure to throw one last look at you. You didn't notice it but even if you had, it would have made no sense to you..

The following weeks continued to all look the same. While you were trying your best to uphold a positive attitude towards the Vice Captain, it felt like he was distancing himself further and further away from you. Even the other cadets were starting to wonder when you were finally going to move on and give up.

“Hoshina!” You exclaimed cheerfully, waving at the man. “I hope you had a great weekend. I'm looking forward to today's work!”

Like always he just passed you by, not even bothering to give you anything else than a roll of his eyes or a nod (when he was feeling generous).

Even when you left little notes for him or small treats on his desk, you would always later on find them in the trash.

“Wanna go out and drink something together?”

“No.”

“Excuse me, but could you please help me with–”

“I'm busy.”

“Why wasn't I called in to participate at the weapon testing–”

“Because.”

This went on for a couple more months, until a certain someone brought you back to reality.

“Please welcome Tanaka Yosuke, the newest addition to our team.”.

Tanaka was an interesting guy. He was sweet and nice and always had something positive about you to say. On missions he would have your back and even off the battlefield he would make you feel warm and welcomed. Being with him made you realize just how much attention you actually deserved and maybe even how much you wasted on Hoshina. Tanaka made you appreciate how nice it felt to be sought out for once.

Your words did not pass him by, nor did any of your actions go unnoticed by his attentive eyes. He was someone you were able to feel comfortable around.

“Y/n!” His voice immediately caused a smile to appear on your face. Tanaka stood in front of you, a playful grin shining right back at you as he approached your seated body. You were at the base’s cafeteria, enjoying a simple meal by yourself. After another failed attempt of talking to the Vice Captain you believed that you deserved a little treat.

“I got you something.” He spoke, hands reaching into the small bag he brought with him.

A sharp breath escaped your lips and a feeling so fuzzy engulfed your heart it almost knocked you off the chair.

“Look, aren't these flowers beautiful.” White Lilies swayed in the wind, brought by the Kaiju’s collapse. Only this group of flowers had stayed untouched from the destruction, maintaining their beauty.

You had made one little remark about the flowers but here this man was, surprising you with a whole bouquet of them. As your fingers grazed over the soft petals a thought suddenly occurred in your head.

What if Hoshina genuinely disliked you?

It wasn't a brand new discovery. Vice Captain Hoshina not being a fan of yours was quite obvious, yet you thought that his opinion about you could be swayed if you tried hard enough, like in movies. But seeing him dodge you like a bullet and going out of his way to hurt your feelings..maybe you were a bother after all..

Spending more time with Tanaka and less around the Vice Captain felt strange. You wondered if he noticed or if he even cared about the lack of your presence. The thought occupied your mind even while you were looking at your gift.

But did that mean that you like Tanaka..? Despite being a sweet guy, all you saw in him was a comrade who you could call a good friend. No one could ever compare to the Hoshina that you met years ago, before you joined the decision. The sweet man who saved you that day..the man you fell in love with.

“These flowers are beautiful, Tanaka.” But that didn't change the fact that Tanaka's eyes were different. They looked at you, not past or beyond, they stared right at you and made sure to perceive you.

“Not as beautiful as the one who is holding them..”

For a brief moment you felt your heart skip a beat, Tanaka's words melting on your ears like butter. While you were losing yourself in this warm feeling you didn't notice the person who was lingering behind the wall, watching the scene unfold with sharp eyes.

“Tsk..”

×

“That new guy, what's his name again?” Hoshina rested his body against one of the bookshelves, arms crossed over his chest as he watched the Captain arrange some files.

“You mean Tanaka Yosuke? What's with him?” Mina's gaze remained on the countless sheets of papers in front of her, only moving up once to give the man a questioning look.

“Something about him seems off, I don't like the guy.”

“Oh please.” The woman finally averted her attention to her friend, a smug smile hanging on her lips.

“You're just mad that Y/n is paying him attention, much more than you recently.” The last part of that sentence came out as a mumble yet Hoshina’s sharp ears picked up on Mina's remark.

“As if.” Hoshina scoffed. “It's just, he is always dragging Y/n to the front of every battle and acts as if he has known her for ages.”

“You want him to act like you? Cold and ignorant, even after knowing that she is one of the sweetest people around.” Although Mina tried to add a playful touch to her voice, the backlash of her words stayed strong.

“Everybody knows that Y/n is, or maybe now was, head over heels for you– yes even I picked up on that. Yet for some reason you are a complete asshole to the poor girl. But now that she has decided to stop paying you that special kind of attention you want to complain and talk about some "I miss her” and what not. Give me a break.”

Hearing these words come out of the Captain's mouth felt like a strong jab to the side. Hoshina found himself unable to respond, react in any way, really. Like a block of ice he stood motionless in the room, mouth slightly open.

“Play with a girl's heart for too long and she will leave you in the past. You men have the audacity to treat the woman who cares for you like trash and ignore her but get upset when she starts showing affection to another man who actually treats her right, how childish.”

A paper ball suddenly came flying towards Hoshina’s head. He let the crumbled item hit his skull. His eyes followed it as it bounced off his head and fell to the ground, rolling around for a little longer until it eventually stopped moving. A strange taste now sat in his mouth. It was bitter yet blunt, how irritating..

"Whatever reason you have to act this way, just stop. Tell Y/n face to face how you actually feel and give that poor thing a break for gods sake."

×

The day came to an end rather quickly today. Only hours ago you were out with Tanaka, enjoying some time together and now you were already headed to bed. But before you decided to tell the world goodnight you had to make one quick stop at the base's library.

There was a book about flowers Tanaka gave you that you wanted to lend out, to be able to properly tent your gift. But as you searched through the countless isles, too concentrated on quickly finding the copy, a loud noise suddenly pulled you back to reality.

“Vice Captain..” You stuttered, startled by Hoshinas' sudden appearance. The man stood in front of you, his usual nonchalant expression printed on his face. You were ready to apologize for being out this late once again but before you were even able to open your mouth you were silenced.

“You've been avoiding me..” He spoke in such a low tone you almost didn't hear him.

“I've been…what?”

“You've been avoiding me, Y/n.” Hoshina took a step forward, invading a fraction of your personal space. A gasp slipped from your lips but he continued to stare you down.

“Well..I was under the impression that I was bothering you, Vice Captain, so I backed down a li–”

“Now you can't even say my name anymore?” Another step was taken towards your direction.

Hoshina's playful demeanor had completely disappeared, all that was left was a stoic facade. But something about the way he positioned himself above you, his sharp eyes looking down at your frame as if they were guarding you– it fell off. Despite appearing cold and upset, he somehow seemed..vulnerable?

“I really don't understand what is going on here. I thought you didn't like me?”

It seemed like Hoshina wanted to say something along the lines of “what gave you that idea” but he quickly realized that those words would have not helped him at all. Thus he remained silent for a while, his arms crossing over his chest as his gaze fell onto the wall.

“That Tanaka guy, is he your latest obsession?”

“Excuse me?” You mildly snapped. “Yosuke is a friend of mine, a very nice guy and an amazing fighter.” Hearing you speak his first name so casually caused a nerve to snap in Hoshina’s body.

“He is a completely irresponsible guy if you ask me. Dragging you out to the front of every battle, making you fight all these Yoju– it's like he's setting you up for injuries.” As if the Vicevice Captain's words didn't irritate you enough, he had the audacity to add a scoff, leaving you confused and slightly vexed.

“Orrr maybe he just trusts in my abilities. But with all respect sir, what are you talking about? Are you here to hand out another punishment or is this some type of joke, pretending to suddenly care about me and all..” Silence hushed over the space as your question stayed unanswered. It was beyond obvious that your words triggered something in Hoshina but you didn't know what it was. The lack of a conversation allowed you to reflect on past interactions. Despite hish harsh words, this was the third time that the Vice Captain has mentioned you potentially getting hurt during battle.

Was he maybe..

“I apologize for my tone..” You suddenly sighed.

“But Vice Captain Hoshina, I think I have made it quite clear that I..that I like you yet you don't seem even the tiniest bit interested in me. Which is okay, I get it, but how come that now that i'm finally leaving you alone, you all of a–”

The door to the library suddenly swung open, cutting you off mid sentence.

“Y/n?” Tanaka called out, looking around the empty space.

Hoshina had reacted before you could even realize what was going on. The Vice Captain quickly pulled you into his embrace, so that your back rested against his chest, and placed his hands over your mouth. The mild sensation you felt only moments ago in your stomach now fully exploded, causing a strong heat to rush through your body.

“Weird..the others told me that she would be here..” Tanaka looked around one last time before turning off the lights and closing the door behind him. You thought that Hoshina would let you go but his grip around your waist stayed strong.

“Y/n..” He lowered his face to softly talk into your ear. Something inside the man felt relieved. Now that you were both standing in complete darkness, unable to see each other, he could finally confess what was on his mind.

“As a Vice Captain it is my duty to charge head first into battle, despite knowing that I could die any second. You are persistent by nature, I saw that during our first encounter a couple years ago, so the thought of you being stubborn enough to follow me on the battlefield and potentially getting hurt always haunted me. I..I tried getting rid of you to prevent that from happening and during the process I must have hurt you a lot and I am so sorry. I kept ignoring you because being close to you..it made it so fucking difficult to not–”

Hoshina stopped himself from continuing that sentence and let go of you, his body's heat becoming too overwhelming. With every second your eyes adjusted more and more to the darkness, until you were properly able to see him.

“Don't run after any other man when I'm right here, Y/n..”

“Hoshina..”

You could only see fragments of it but Hoshina was smiling. Hearing you finally drop the formalities made him happier than it should.

All this time, the man you thought hated you for purely existing had a special spot in his heart reserved just for you. It felt weird, being perceived by him, but at the same time there was no sweeter feeling.

“I don't know if I can just forgive you yet..” You joked. “It's gonna take a lot more than just your words to make me forget the months of blatant disrespect.”

“Don't play around too much now.” The man pulled you back into his embrace. One arm tightly held you by the waist while the other pretended to pull on your ear. For a short moment the two of you laughed together, until he suddenly spoke in a more serious tone.

“Please keep your eyes on me, don't look away.” One of his hands wrapped around yours to pull it up to his face. Hoshina's soft lips ran over your fingers, placing a strong kiss on your hand. Then his eyes fell on yours, locking your gazes.

“I'm yours, Y/n. You don't need anyone else as long as I'm here so please continue to give me your attention. It gets me going like nothing else, hearing your adorable voice and seeing how much effort you put into every fight. Fuck” He chuckled, the other hand now cupping your right cheek.

“You don't know how long I had to hold myself back. But now that the truth's out, I can finally show you just how crazy you make me.”

[yammpi3]

𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙀 𝙉𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏 𝙀𝙉𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙆𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙤 𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙖𝙢𝙞 [𝙃𝙖𝙬𝙠𝙨]

synopsis. You were a former hero commission hero but when you made a simple mistake in a mission the commission sent you on they deemed you unfit and fired you, hence made you out to be a villain to the public. A few years later you meet your old partner Hawks out on his nightly patrol then you guys make up….made out .. :3

— content warnings. sorta plot with smut, eating out, p to v, kissing, sex sex sex, not really coordinated well? i think? dom/sub hawks

— W.C 2.3k

— authors note. This has been rotting in my drafts for like a year now but i thought i should post something…so..heres this!! Im rlly sorry if it’s formatted kinda weirdly, imo the smut is also written sorta weird but i think thats just me..overthinking it ANYWAYS enjoy reading <33 also Thank you FOR 100 FOLLOWERS?? i didn’t expect my blog would reach that much so TYTY.

Hawks sighed heavily, leaning back in his office desk chair, elbows propping on the armrests. He rubbed his tired eyes, tilting his head back, attempting to avoid eye contact with the stack of paperwork that lay out before him.

Every muscle in his body ached with exhaustion. It felt like he had been sitting in this same spot for days, poring over reports and documents in an endless cycle of busy work. As the number-two hero, the public demanded nothing but his very best. They expected him to always be alert and swift in responding to any crisis, dealing with volatile situations and dangerous villains with calm precision. 

But they didn't see this part. They didn't witness the countless late nights spent filling out forms, compiling statistics, and attending meetings after meetings. No cameras captured the headaches induced by mind-numbing bureaucracy or the frustration of dealing with petty politics. This was the hidden cost of his elevated rank—an incessant paper-pushing grindstone that wore him down more than any actual fight ever could. 

 

Slowly dragging his hands down his face, Hawks sighed again as the aches and knots of tension complained loudly in his neck and shoulders. For a brief moment, he considered using his feathers to shred just a few stray documents, to do less work. 

He stretched his arms over his head and rolled his tense muscles, his wings fluttering restlessly behind him. All he wanted at that moment was to forget. To spread his wings and fly through open skies, feeling the wind ruffle through his feathers as he left his troubles far below.

 

Tilting his chair back as far as it would go, he gave a long-suffering look at the piles of work that towered precariously around him, silently pleading with it all to spontaneously catch fire or simply vanish into thin air. With a resigned sigh, Hawks dropped all four chair legs back to the floor and reluctantly pulled the topmost file towards him once more, bracing himself for another grind of the ever-turning wheel.

Hawks rubbed his tired eyes once more, feeling his motivation drain away with each mundane paragraph he read. At this rate, he'd be here all night and well into the morning. With a groan, he tossed the file back onto the pile, temporarily defeated. Maybe a quick break was what he needed to recharge his focus. 

 

Pushing away from his desk, Hawks stood and stretched out his cramped body to its full height, his wings unfolding to their full span. A midnight flight around the city was just what he needed. The cool night air and darkened streets would do wonders for clearing his cluttered mind. 

Stepping out onto his office balcony, Hawks took a few steps back, then launched himself into the sky with his wings. He flew high, circling up towards the crowning heights of the skyscrapers that shone below. Closing his eyes briefly, he took a deep breath of the fresher air, feeling tensions beginning to melt away already. 

 

As he glided back down towards street level, Hawks scanned the sidewalks lazily while lost in thought. He was mulling over the options when movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. 

Your shadow slipped between alleyways, scanning for any civilians in the area. Suddenly flashes of red nearing a rooftop drew your eye—a familiar winged silhouette.

Going on a nearby rooftop, you spotted Hawks looking down, trying to find who or what he saw. 

You and Hawks used to know each other pretty well in your teen years when you dreamed of being a great hero. So when you were selected by  the Commission to become one, you were ecstatic. But from day one, Keigo Takami made things... complicated.

You two went way back to your training days, though you mostly kept your head down back then. Once in the pro scene though, Takami always found ways to rile you up during sessions, whether with sly taunts or risky stunts that pushed protocol to the limit. 

Part of you wanted to throttle that arrogant asshole, but another part couldn't deny the thrill he made you feel. 

Late nights spent training turned into more..private scenarios. For a time, it was nice to find solace in each other. But then came the ruling—you'd been deemed "not hero material" after one mistake, ruining your future. That's when Takami tried to connect with you again, but the hero commission wouldn't even allow him to be close to you to not damage the reputation he already made with the public. 

"You're up rather late for a hero," you whispered directly into his ear, barely suppressing a chuckle at his startled flinch. Golden eyes met yours warily, yet he made no move to escape our intimate embrace. 

"I'm off duty," was his measured reply. "And you?" Smoke clung thick to the memories in his eyes. 

Your fingers, carefully gloved, traced the proud arch of his wings, feeling tension bleed away slowly. "Care for some company, Keigo?"

He held your gaze steadily, considering. At last he nodded, extending a hand. “Not that I can shake you off anyway,” he replied, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

You sat together on the secluded rooftop, settling close against one another. As you caught up, you both couldn't help but feel deprived of each other's touch; it had been far too long since you'd seen one another face to face. Sure, he'd heard about you through others in the commission, but being here together was different somehow. 

When your voices at last fell silent, a gentle touch turned your chin to meet Hawks' searching eyes. "Y/N…" he murmured, leaning in so your faces were mere inches apart. One of his wings stretched out to block any view from the street below, enveloping you both in its feathery embrace. 

Hawks closed the remaining distance between you, pressing his lips to yours in a soft yet insistent kiss.

One hand came up to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair, as the other wrapped around your waist to draw you flush against his body. You felt even better than he remembered. 

 

When your lips parted under him, Hawks held back a groan as he rested his forehead against yours as you both panted for air. Wisps of steam rose between the two of you in the chill night. 

If he tasted you fully, it would undo his last shred of willpower.

“You're going to be the end of me.." Hawks murmured thickly. Already, he ached to have more, but taking you here against the railing would be too brazen, even for his recklessness. 

"Then take me somewhere more...private then," you shot back in a sinful whisper. 

With a sly smile, Hawks swept you into his arms in a bridal carry, wings already prepared for launch. "Hold on tight.”

 

Hawks kicked off from the roof of the building and took flight, relishing your tight grip around his shoulders. The thrill of having you in his arms sent adrenaline surging through his veins. 

He landed lightly on the balcony of his high-rise apartment, still holding you securely against his chest. Your masked face was turned up to meet his gaze.

"I.. I really missed you," Hawks murmured, pressing you back against the wall with his body. He caged you in with outspread wings, feathers gently ghosting your skin. 

 

"Me too.." you replied. Your hands came up to roam his body just as eagerly.

Hawks captured your lips in a searing kiss, conveying all his pent-up needs and desires without restraint. This was wrong on so many levels, and yet he'd never felt more alive. 

 

Kicking open the balcony doors, he swept you inside and laid you down on his plush sofa. His hands worked busily to remove your mask, wanting nothing between you and him; clothing fell piece by piece until nothing was left. 

 

"Say you want this," Hawks pleaded roughly, desperate for your answer. 

Your intoxicating laughter rang out as you pulled him against your body. "I want all of you, Keigo." 

Hawks' hands roamed your body eagerly, relearning every curve as his lips traveled along your jawline. You sighed contentedly, arching into his touch while undoing the fastenings of his hero costume with practiced expertise. 

 

Slowly, methodically, he kissed his way down the delicate column of your throat. Hawks lingered there to suckle your rapid pulse, eliciting breathy moans. His name falling from your lips in such a manner sent fresh spikes of arousal through him.

 

As you lay bare under him, Hawks paused to simply take in the sublime vision of your naked form, illuminated by the moonlight. "You're so..beautiful," he whispered in awe, tracing idle patterns upon your sensitized flesh.

 

Your hands delved into the downy feathers at his wings' bases, eliciting a guttural groan. The way you caressed his most sensitive areas, teasing but not quite enough, tested Hawks' faltering control. He nipped lightly at the swell of your breast in retaliation.

Tracing a tortuous path down your torso with wet kisses and love bites, Hawks' fingers dipped between your thighs. He chuckled at discovering your slick arousal, already swollen and desperate for friction. Slowly, he circled your clit, gathering your arousal onto his fingers.

 

"Please..." you begged wantonly, bucking your hips to chase more contact. But Hawks would loathe to grant your unspoken request so easily. He continued his maddening ministrations, coaxing you higher and higher with expert precision. Only when your keening cries bordered on anguish did he finally decide to sink two fingers deep inside.

 

The powerful rhythm he set drove you swiftly towards the peak. Hawks swallowed your hoarse screams of completion, savoring your intimate essence on his tongue.

"I've missed this..," he murmured, pressing a tender kiss on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

 

Then his tongue delved into your slick arousal with deft, practiced strokes. Your responsive sighs and the way you grabbed Takami's hair only spurred him onward in his devotions. 

 

He alternated between broad, flat licks and focused flicks directly over your clit. When Keigo very lightly grazed his teeth along your folds, you keened and bucked again into his ministrations wildly. He hummed his approval, sending vibrations through your core.

 

It did not take long for you to climb once more towards the precipice, unraveling beautifully beneath his skilled mouth. Hawks drank deeply from your release, prolonging each aftershock with slow caresses of his tongue. Only when your quivering stopped did he withdraw, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he cleaned his glistening chin. 

 

As he swirled his tongue around his lips, savoring the last hints of you, you gazed up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. Your chest still heaved in languid aftershocks of pleasure, your limbs boneless and slack upon the plush cushions.

"Come here," you beckoned hoarsely, crooking a finger. Your body cried out to be filled after such thorough worship, muscles reflexively clenching around nothing inside. 

 

Hawks obeyed without hesitation, crawling up to drape himself over your welcoming form once more. You gripped his shoulders firmly, flipping your positions with a playful show of wiry strength, and smiled down at him wickedly. 

 

Grasping his aching length and rubbing the tip of his cock had him seeing stars. Hawks groaned unabashedly.

Slowly, you let him inside, savoring each velvet glide. Hawks bucked helplessly, claws scrabbling for purchase against the cushions as your sensual walls milked his length.

 

The pleasure you drew from Hawks was exquisite torture. Each roll of your hips sent fresh shockwaves through his twitching member, shattering his composure. He was reduced to begging, his nails scratched weakly at your thighs as you rode him to the brink. 

 

"Please...I need to come," Hawks gasped, moving his hips upward in frantic little thrusts. His cock throbbed painfully with the desperate need for release. 

You smiled down at him cruelly. "Beg for it." Your lips formed the words deliciously slowly, knowing their effect.

Hawks keened, wings fluttering uselessly. "Please let me cum p-please I wanna cum, I need..to please..” 

 

Suddenly, you bore down on him, grinding your pelvis against his in brutal circles. The new angle sent Hawks reaching his high with a raw cry. 

 

You quickly let him pull out as his cock pulsed and thick ropes of seed spilled forth, splattering his taut stomach in pearly ribbons. Hawks shuddered through wave after wave; your continued help milking every last drop from him. 

Breathless and spent, he could only lay pliantly as you leaned down to collect his essence on your fingers. Your wicked tongue flicked out to taste, making Hawks twitch anew in oversensitivity.

 

You smiled softly, your expression gentling as you gazed upon Hawks' flushed, panting form. His chest still heaved mightily in the aftermath of his climax.

 

Reverently, you traced light patterns on his ribs and pecs with delicate fingers, soothing away any last tremors. Hawks hummed appreciatively at your tender touch, grasping one of your hands to press a lingering kiss to the palm. 

 

"Come here, Birdie," you murmured, beckoning him into your open embrace. Hawks complied readily, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with a contented sigh. Your legs tangled together comfortably as his wings folded around you both like a feathery blanket.

No threats of capture or duty rules could penetrate the sanctity of that moment. There, held securely within your arms, Hawks felt at once protected yet free—freed from the shackles of self-doubt and expectation. He belonged, body and soul, to one who accepted him fully without judgment or demand.

 

Drowsiness began to take hold as your rhythmic caresses through soft-down lulled Hawks towards slumber. "Stay?" he mumbled into your skin, his voice blurred by oncoming sleep yet filled with gentle hope. 

You kissed his forehead, followed by a whisper, "I’ll stay, promise." was the sweetest assurance Hawks could wish for.

© yammpi3 2024. All work belongs to @yammpi3. You can repost if you want to support my blog/writing! Please don't modify, translate, or plagiarize in any way on ANY platform.

[solarmorrigan]

The Pumpkin (Spice) King

For the @steddie-spooktober day 24 prompt: Pumpkin Rated: T | Words: 945 | CW: None | Tags: established relationship, this is very silly, fluff Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

The clues had been there all along. Eddie should have paid more attention.

It starts with the candle.

“Why does it smell like a craft store in here?” Eddie asks the moment the apartment door has closed behind him.

Steve, half engrossed in whatever he’s scrolling through on his phone, shoots Eddie a quick, puzzled look. “What?”

“Like cinnamon sugar and spices. Fake fall.” Eddie sniffs the room speculatively. “This is what craft stores smell like every year from September to January.”

“Oh.” Steve rolls his eyes. “It’s not ‘fake fall,’ it’s just the candle I have burning.”

Now that Steve’s mentioned it, Eddie spots the candle on the table, one of the ones you get in a fancy-looking glass jar, the label of which proclaims the scent to be–

“Pumpkin spice?” Eddie utters, nose wrinkled.

“You got a problem with pumpkin spice?” Steve asks.

“It’s–” Eddie starts, then takes in Steve’s single raised eyebrow, registers the catty lilt to his tone, and changes tracks, “–barely September.”

If anything, Steve’s eyebrows get more judgmental, but he looks back to his phone, apparently dismissing Eddie as a threat to his fun, fall-scented good time. “They start selling these things in August," he says. “You should appreciate my restraint.”

“Riiight,” Eddie drawls, deciding to adjourn to the bedroom and leave the living room to Steve and his mass-produced miasma of imitation autumn.

Of course, it doesn’t end there.

Eddie barely notices in time, reaching for the pump of the hand soap by the kitchen sink and stopping just short of using it when the colors register. It isn’t the usual bland bottle with its inoffensive citrus and herb scent, but something brightly-colored, all orange and shiny silver. There are little wheat sheaves and pumpkins on the label, and the scent is, of course–

“Fucking pumpkin spice,” Eddie mutters.

Fine, okay, so there must have been some kind of sale at fucking– Bath and Body Works, or wherever the hell it is that sells this stuff, and Steve had temporarily lost his mind. Or something. Whatever.

Steve can go around smelling like something that wishes it could be cinnamon all he likes, but Eddie will not be joining him. He uses the dish soap to wash his hands instead. His eczema will not thank him later, but he thinks it’s a fair price to pay for his continued dignity.

(And if Steve eyes Eddie’s reddened, peeling knuckles later in the week, and the lemon herb soap reappears next to the pumpkin spice soap, well – that’s close enough to a win that Eddie will take it.)

Then there’s the coffee.

This one is technically the final nail in the coffin, but it takes a bit to really dawn on Eddie. He maintains that he had been understandably distracted at the time – largely because he only finds this one out by drawing the taste straight from Steve’s mouth.

It isn’t unusual for Steve to have been up and about for an hour or two (or three) before Eddie rolls out of bed on his days off; Eddie prefers to keep late hours, and Steve, as much as Eddie loves him, is a morning person. This had caused some friction when they’d first started living together, but it’s been nearly a year now, and they’ve managed to work it out. Often, their first kiss of the day tastes like whatever coffee Steve’s already been drinking.

It’s different today, though. Sweeter than usual.

Eddie hums, licking deeper into Steve’s mouth, trying to place the difference, and Steve groans, tugging Eddie closer by the hips, mistaking his curiosity for passion (and, well – it’s not not passion. Eddie can multitask).

“What’ve you been drinking?” Eddie finally asks when they pull apart.

“Pumpkin spice latte,” Steve answers, and then gives Eddie absolutely no chance to process this information, pulling him back in for another deep kiss.

It’s only later, back in bed when Eddie had barely even been out of it for half an hour, that Eddie has to admit to himself: his boyfriend is a pumpkin spice girl.

And that’s fine! Eddie can be mature about this!

Sure, it’s the sort of thing he’d sneered at back in high school—the conformity of the masses flocking to whatever seasonally-scented item corporations are hocking at the time—but he’s grown up since then. Someone’s preference for a certain flavor or scent doesn’t determine their worth as a person, et cetera, et cetera. Eddie knows this.

But still, he’s only human. He does have a breaking point.

“Oh, baby, no.”

“What?” Steve pulls his head out of the fridge, where he’s been putting the cold stuff away as Eddie unloads the grocery bags destined for the pantry.

Eddie holds up the offending item – possibly the most offending item he’s ever seen.

Pumpkin spice candy corn.

Steve blinks at him. “What?” he asks again after a long moment of loaded silence.

“Oh god, it’s already infected your brain,” Eddie laments, dropping the bag of candy on the counter and reaching for his phone. “I’m calling Robin, we’re staging an intervention.”

“Oh come on, what? They’re good!” Steve insists.

“Objectively, sweetheart, they really aren’t. But don’t you worry,” he leans over and pats Steve on the arm as he searches for Robin’s number in his contact list, “we’re gonna save you from yourself.”

(Later, of course, he’ll find out that Robin has already tried to break Steve of his tendency to buy anything labeled with “pumpkin spice.” His love of the stuff is ironclad. She tells Eddie that he’d better learn to enjoy the taste, or else give up making out with his boyfriend until Thanksgiving.)

[chainofclovers]

Reporter: On October 9, 2021, you were pretty obsessed with Nathan Shelley and Ted Lasso and some of those feelings occurred while you were doing your maybe once-every-year-or-two hot dog purchase, but you were grounded enough in reality to go with your own wife's favorite brand. Looks like you just went to the store yesterday, July 30, 2023. Care to comment?

chainofclovers:

Portrait of the blogger preparing for a cookout:

Should I buy the Hebrew National hot dogs because they are my wife's favorite brand or should I buy the Nathan's hot dogs because fictional character Ted Lasso made a joke about them in his first interaction with Nathan Shelley?

(I bought the Hebrew National hot dogs because my wife is a real person.)

[faeryarchives]

its you, it always has been you

summary: it was right then and there that he knew, he had fallen in love recent works: don't lose me, not yet & stay with me (leona kingscholar x gn!reader) & heartslabyul with a furina-like female reader!

* ˚ ✦ you're always on my mind, even out of sight: he always wonder when did it actually start? sometimes in the middle of the day, his thoughts would randomly travel back to you - are you taking care of yourself? oh look, he found a patch of (favorite flowers) in the hidden area of the botanical garden + wondering if you would like it if he give you a bouquet 💐 everything reminds you of him and he is getting frustrated why does everything goes back to you until he saw you from the distance admiring the sunset with grim and that is when he knew "no wonder you're always on my mind, even when you're out of sight' (girl i was wondering why it sounds familiar it's doppio's debut line) 🤍

— riddle rosehearts, cater diamond, LEONA KINGSCHOLAR, azul ashengrotto, vil schoenheit

* ˚ ✦ the world looks so dull without you: at first, it was not really noticeable but when you start to get busier day by day, his world gradually lost it's color (not literally) he didn't know why but there was something very important missing and yet he try to distract himself + thinking everything will go back to normal → he was so wrong and everything felt wrong 🤬 he tried going back to the root of all this and he noticed that everything happened when you spend less and less time with him so he tried the theory out and went out to see you and voila !! it was like he was feeling everything at once and the realization sink in + not spending another minute to waste and went on to spend time with you with his heart so full and beating rapidly against his chest from joy 🤩

— ACE TRAPPOLA, ruggie bucchi, floyd leech, kalim al asim, rook hunt, idia shroud, silver

* ˚ ✦ i can't imagine you with someone else: he doesn't like the feeling he gets when you get close with others and he hated himself for that 😿 it's an ugly feeling to have and he treats you as a friend + he has no reason to feel selfish right? they tried hiding it to themselves yet to no one's surprised - the more they bury the thought the more it grew and they finally come to terms with it when he realized it's not that he doesn't want you to have other friends, but he can't imagine you being in a relationship with someone else. he know that he is not the perfect person you want to have but won't you give him just one chance? 🥺

— deuce spade, trey clover, jack howl, jade leech, epel felmier, SEBEK ZIGVOLT

* ˚ ✦ all of the above in order: this man will go stages of grief for aloooong time i tell you 😭 their first stage is thinking about you all the time along with denial → they may be too smart for their own good but really dumb when it comes to acknowledging their own feelings 🧍🏻‍♀️second stage ofc they would realize the empty space you left behind temporarily and how their world seems to be incomplete + like the colors just vanished in thin air and they would start to recognize the fact that maybe it's okay to have feelings for you? nothing is stoping them from admiring you right? 🧐 but no is still no! maybe you are just close friends and he misses your company that's all! 👩🏻‍⚖️ third one is the same → they believe some people do not deserve your attention at all and made them very sad at one point because they can't stand the image of you with someone else 😔 last stage is acceptance and it just came on a random day of you two hanging out - hearing your usual stories and laughter light a bulb inside of his head and he finally accepted the fact that he had already fallen in love with you. 🫵

— JAMIL VIPER malleus draconia, lilia vanrouge

[tojjist]

“At Least” S. Gojo

☆ genre: angst to fluff (kinda)

☆ pairings: Gojo Satoru x f! reader

☆ summary: After Geto left, nothing has been the same. Especially not your relationship with Gojo Satoru. Once you decide to move to Kyoto for good, Gojo is less than pleased. But fate does not seem to want to let you go.

☆ cw: mentions of sex, depressed gojo, not spoiler free, hopping between timelines but like i added non-canon events, smoking, drinking, getting drunk, high school Gojo being a high school boy, cussing, mentions of drunk sex but it doesn’t happen, mentions character death (from the anime), gojo satoru (yes that's a trigger warning).

☆ wc : 5.6k

☆ a/n: this has been in the doing for so long? I've been waiting to have the chance to upload it for maybe a year now smh. Also was originally written for an irl of mine lmao

“Oh my god,” you emphasize each word, pushing the wooden chair away with your knee. “Satoru, is it yours?”

His black pupils, lined with iris the color of morning skies, study your figure from behind the shaded glasses, pink lips quirking slightly upwards in approval of your attention.

“Nah, it's only staying with me for a week,” he stated, watching nervously as you strode over to him. “His owner is away for some business.”

Your attention remained fixed on the pet in Satoru's long, long arms. Your face lit up when a bark escaped the infant animal. “Can I hold it?”

Satoru watched over you carefully, pleading eyes coming in line with his blues. You make it hard to say anything other than an immediate yes, but he tries to stretch out the conversation to his best ability.

“It's 400 yen for 10 minutes,” he muttered, sarcasm dripping from his words. He earned a look of amusement from you; a small victory. He then braced himself for the next part. Satoru bent down, meeting you eye-to-eye, and noticed your breath catching in anticipation. “Or... you can shorten your skirt.”

Your face took no time to grow hot, not giving any verbal answer besides the blank expression you stare at him with. For a second, Gojo let himself think he's the victor of this little challenge he started in his head. But he soon came to realize how grave of a mistake he's made.

You're not flustered, you're angry.

“You're such a fucking pervert,” you fume, eyes glaring daggers. He dares not move, noticing the way your eyes flutter over his face.

“You're truly unbelievable,” the shorter male chuckled, making sure he didn't bump into Satoru's now-bruised arm. “What were you even thinking?”

“I thought it was funny, y'know?” He huffed in response. Gojo's fingers ran through his own bright locks as he took a seat on the wood hung up by metal chains. "Besides, has she always been this strong? Physically, I mean."

Geto stared into the reddish sky of dusk, placing himself into a swing in turn and kicking the air so the swing would start moving. "I don't know. Girls are really full of surprises.”

He never thought, not in a million years, things would come to this. Ever since Gojo's last encounter with Geto after he, well, changed... Gojo became unable to face anyone quite the same way he did before.

How did he get here? How did things escalate to this? Thinking about it, Geto had shown signs of a change in his heart and mind. It was Satoru's fault, was it not? He should have done better. He should have noticed. How could he not have? wasn't he the strongest? Wasn't that his job? How could he be so bad at everything?

How could he fail everyone like this?

“Gojo-San?”

Your feminine voice cut his train of thought. He almost forgot the situation he is now stuck in. He's been doing that a lot: losing himself in thought, mind almost immune to the outer world until he temporarily lost his sense of self. Nothing felt quite the same any more. It was like the world had lost its color.

“Sorry- What's up?” He turned to you. Gojo-san, you called him. When did you stop using his given name? What's with the '-san'? Gojo hadn't realized that losing one person was the first step, and now he found himself deep in the road of losing everyone.

And now he's stuck in the elevator with the girl he had liked for so long. He couldn't find it in himself to say anything to you, to push your buttons like he always did or joke around. When did the world become so heavy? He does not know.

“Are you okay? You seemed off.”

Your face is devoid of any genuine emotion, seemingly expressionless. But your voice is laced with concern. Gojo could only guess you didn't want him thinking you pity him or anything of such. But if that isn't the case, he wouldn't know. He's too tired to bother thinking about it.

“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine,” he smiled in assurance, “Just bothered by, well, this-” he threw his hand in the way of the control panel. The elevator doors have been stuck for almost twenty minutes now. How pleasant.

“uh huh,” you sigh, turning back around. How did you turn so cold?

When the silence stretches, you start a conversation, hesitant at first. “By the way, I got accepted as a helper in a nursery in Kyoto,” you mutter, gaze avoiding his own. “they're expecting me to start work right after spring break.”

Spring break?

Holy shit. It hit him like a truck. That’s barely a week and a half from now.

“Spring break? Why so soon?”

“That’s when the students file back in,” you mumble, fiddling with the watch placed around your wrist. You pause to read the time, then turn to meet his eyes. “I’m leaving in four days to get settled.”

“Oh…” His breath caught, “Train?”

What a stupid question. He knows. Satoru has never been unintelligent, especially in conversing. But now his unintelligence shines through as if it’s his only trait. He’s glad you don’t question it.

“Yeah, I have no other form of transport really.”

“Well, uh…” He hates himself. He hates himself for not doing anything. He hates himself for being so weak and  cowardly, for being unable to keep his friends around him, for shutting everyone he holds close out. But now, he especially hates himself for being unable to feel happy for you, or to congratulate you on the opportunity, “come visit us every once in a while, yeah?”

Your mouth remains shut, only staring at the tall man before your eyes. The silence stretches between the two of you once again, and you don’t find it in you to speak of how you feel.

“You.. you know you could have died, right? We all could have b-but you…” You trail off, thoughts splattered like a spilled pot of ink. Although you seemed unfazed, in your mind you were anything but. Haibara, Riko, and all the losses that trailed and every event that followed has been stressful and nerve-wrecking. And even in the quietness and silence of the general atmosphere, it has been nearly impossible to find peace within yourself.

“Well, I didn’t. What happened had passed. Can you change that? I doubt so. No point in ‘if’ and ‘could’ve’.”

Before you could respond,the lights flickered back on. You grow unsure if you’ve struck a nerve, but that wasn’t what you meant. Gojo’s response had nothing to do with what you said, you were sure he knew exactly what your words were meant for. Why is he so scared of confronting it?

You don’t know. You could never hope to know because you and Gojo Satoru live in different worlds, the man who was only Satoru some time ago. You were worlds apart, yet  Satoru loved to play pretend that he lived in the same world as you, even when he stuck out like a sore thumb. But he was no longer. Ever since Geto left… it’s safe to say everyone has been changing slowly, deforming from their previous lives and personalities. But Satoru flipped, like the head and tail of a coin, he got himself a new face. He turned into Gojo Satoru; the strongest. A soul unalive. A broken boy in an ever growing body. A stranger.

Two days later you find yourself still roaming the campus , searching so desperately for something. Anything. A reason to stay, perhaps? You don’t find it anyway. You have no attachment as this place holds nothing but misery. Or that’s what you told yourself over and over as you packed your things.

Your steps were graceful, walking so cautiously as if careful to not wake someone up. Your fingers find rest on the old, dusty door frame, pushing yourself into the room that hadn’t been used for a good month or so. The classroom looked the same as it always did. Except for the shadow that loomed over it; a gray shade that sent chills down your spine. Or maybe it’s just your imagination. 

Then you spot something rather out of place. You’re sure you’ve never seen it before and although you know it’s none of your business, the way it tugs at the strings of your curiosity is undeniable.

It’s red, poking out of what you’re sure is Gojo’s desk. The gloomy classroom was no fit for paper with a color so vibrant. 

Your heart skips a beat when you glimpse the seat next to Satoru’s. You do your best to avoid looking at Geto’s desk any further. You busy yourself with the task at hand, reaching out for the mysterious paper hidden in the wooden desk. Shivers run up your arm at the texture of the scrunched paper.

You attempt to straighten it to your best ability, strained by his hard work of crumbling it with obvious frustration. you can barely make out the letters of your name in the middle of the paper, outlined by a messy circle. How Gojo of him. A few lines stick out of the ‘circle’, one of them has the name of a steakhouse somewhere in Tokyo. Another has a date, reading somewhere along February. It’s near impossible to make out what the small combination of letters say, especially when Satoru’s handwriting is closer to symbols than a comprehensible language.

The thought of it was so funny it didn’t feel like him at all. Satoru never planned anything. Every breath he took was based on pure impulse. Never would it have occurred to you that he thinks through things, let alone brainstorm.

The thought makes you smile. But the realization that he never asked you out because he changed his mind or everything that happened getting in his way makes your stomach churn unpleasantly. 

You decide it’s probably for the best to never bring it up. It would only make matters worse for both of you. Life ran its course; who are you to try and change it?

“I apologize, but my answer remains. I refuse to take part in this,” you spoke in an even tone. “I have a job and a life away from jujutsu. I’ve made it clear sorcery is not a part of my life anymore.”

"That’s completely understandable,” the old man argued, his voice hoarse with age. You’re pretty sure you hear anger further straining his voice, “but your technique is quite strong. That strength could be of great assistance if put to use.”

“Thank you, sir,” you dip your head, maintaining eye contact with the decaying man. “But I truly apologize. The decision is final.”

“If you ever do change your mind, please let us know. We’d be more than happy to hear it.”

You almost let a sigh of relief escape. Finally he gave up. You end up only nodding your head in response gratefully, retreating from the old man. As soon as you're safe and out of sight, you let your posture drop, eyes rolling back in annoyance. These guys are truly as relentless as ever.

You stopped upon a familiar scent catching in your nostrils. Lifting your head up, your eyes roam around, scanning the room for your friend.

“You look troubled,” Shoko approaches you, taking the cigarette out from between her teeth. “What’s with the face?”

“How is that man even alive,” you look at her, “he’s ancient.”

Your comment earns a light chuckle from the brunette. “I’m glad I never have to get caught up in this bullshit.”

“Blissed aren’t you,” you roll your eyes as you speak. “I shouldn’t have come in the first place, I knew they were going to do this.”

“It’s alright, you’re all done now. Here-” Your friend then lifts the cigarette up, putting it near your mouth. When you don’t show any resistance she, being the bad influence she has always been, proceeds to place it between your lips. You waste no time, making quick work of the drag you inhale, bringing the familiar cloud of toxic chemicals and tobacco into your lungs. Your expression relaxes, shifting into one of relief. Shoko scoffs playfully, muttering that you’re dramatic under her breath before she pulls her cigarette from you, taking in a drag.

“Satoru’s here, by the way,” Shoko didn’t need to look at you to guess the way your eyes snap towards her. She bites back a smile. “He’s calmed down. He’d even seem the same as long as you don’t squint too hard.”

“Good for him,” you mutter, trying to seem as unbothered and nonchalant as your accelerating heart rate would allow. You avoid looking at Shoko, trying to seem disinterested. You know she’d pretend you weren’t gawking at her the second she said his name.

“He’s trying, you know. He’s just as nervous as you are.”

“‘M not nervous,” you scoff, “For god’s sake. It’s been ten years already.”

Satoru is stressed. He's nervous, as Shoko put it. He’d spent so long trying to ignore the past, pretend the past wasn’t at all. He couldn’t confront it. He didn’t want to. Satoru knows what he’s done, he's aware that he hurt you the last time you two had interacted. And that was ten years ago. He even let you leave without so much as a goodbye. How could he look you in the eye and pretend nothing has ever happened?

Gojo didn’t want to face the consequences of what he’s done. More so what he hasn’t. So many things were left unsaid in the elevator that day. They’ve been hanging over Satoru ever since, weighing his heart down and wearing it out.

What if he’s met by another woman? Ten years change a lot as is. What if the eyes that meet his aren’t yours? What if he finds himself talking to a stranger that carries around your name and features? Of all the horrors Gojo Satoru had faced in his life, nothing caused dread to pool in the pit of his stomach like this thought does.

Shoko seems to find something beyond you interesting. You don’t bother to turn to see as the brunette has always been a little in her own head. She’s probably just dozed off.

“Hey, think you can hold this for me?” Shoko muttered once Gojo crossed her sight. She stands facing you, averting his gaze. “I’ll be right back, nature’s calling.”

From his distance, Gojo couldn’t make out what the two of you were saying. He watched as your shoulders shook, presumably in laughter. Shoko then made her away from you, barely sparing Satoru a glance.

Every step he took felt heavy, weights landing on his shoulders as he moved towards you. He watched smoke emerge from over your head. He didn’t know you smoked. And even though he’s not completely sure what you do for a living now, he’s not expecting any nursery to accept a smoker in their team.

His long strides finally arrived, opting to remain a step behind you. Close enough to make his presence known.

The aura was unmistakable, almost as if it could be physically sensed. You freeze in place, the cigarette remaining a few inches from your lips. Even after he changed his perfume to one a lot more manly and appealing, and clearly grew taller judging by the shadow he cast over you, his presence still had the same strength as it did before. If not stronger. Anyone else would say it’s intimidating. But you find surprising comfort in it.

“That’s going to kill you,” his hand  reached from over your head, making sure to not cause any unnecessary physical contact. His fingers slip the burning cigarette  from your grip. You find yourself unable to make a single move in response, only watching his actions unfold.

He took a step, moving closer, dimming the light from the roll by rubbing it against the metal bars, then throwing it off the balcony. “You’re too young to kill yourself like that.”

“That bitch Shoko set me up,” You hiss, regaining your composure. “Will you look who showed up. You’re killing the ecosystem by throwing waste like this, Gojo.”

Although you haven’t glanced his way yet, You were every bit sure his mouth was quirked in the same smug smirk he wore so much when you were younger. You could even hear it in his voice as he spoke, “You haven’t grown at all, have you?”

“Oh shut it,” you chuckle. “You’re still as immature as ever. How you could be a manchild at 27 is a wonder to me.”

27… It felt so weird to say it out loud. Weren’t you just 17 a few days ago?

“Oh, how you hurt me,” he says in exaggeration, his voice conveying anything but the hurt he claims to feel. “That isn’t very nice of you.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” You say. He laughs a little, you do too. But the silence that follows is not that of a joke. He knew what you’re referring to. Maybe he underestimated your last encounter’s effect on you.

The silence speaks for itself. It’s louder than any conversation you’ve had before. What now? What have we become? Is it of any use to try anymore? Neither of you had an answer to the question that began to surface with this interaction.

The questions remain hung in the air, dimming the atmosphere around you. Was this fate’s doing? Or his karma? Gojo has always been told he’s a god, but how could he be a higher form of life when he struggled so much to hold a conversation?

He’s about to speak again when you cut him off, muttering “here-” as you push your hand down the coat you wore. Your tongue pokes at the inside of your cheek as you search for the anonymous object.

You pull out a worn out paper, grown from what could have been a bright red to an orangish shade. His eyes study as you shove the paper in his  direction, eyes avoiding his gaze at all costs.

Seeing your bashful expression made him rather curious, the contents of the wrinkled paper piquing his interest. He hesitates before he pulls the paper from your hand, half-expecting you to bite him.

The letters were scribbles, almost like they’re straight out of some cult’s ritual,  that with the wrinkles of the worn out paper making reading it next to impossible. Still, he could make out just enough to realize what this paper is. His eyes widened behind the blindfold. It didn’t take much to remember this paper, trivial as it may be.

“You found this- how did you even…?” he trails off, confused.

“I guess I did,” You confirm. He’s unsure if you’re proud of yourself for your rather… interesting discovery. It’s bold of you to pull this out ten whole years later. But he can’t deny the relief he feels that at least this means you don’t completely hate him. For once, he’s truly at loss for words. 

But he wouldn’t let a perfect opportunity like this slide.

“Oh, so you’re in love with me? You’re so obsessed with me that you kept this for so many years, what a loyal fangirl.”

Before he knew it, a weight so crushing landed on his foot. He turned off his infinity around you as a sign of trust. But he soon came to regret his rather unsmart decision. Your foot stomped and crushed his toes. It makes him groan in pain, bending slightly forward.

“Tomorrow, at Narisawa in Minato city, 5:30. I’m leaving for Kyoto in 3 days. Don’t waste your chance again, Gojo Satoru. You’re not getting another one.”

“I take it you’ve been in love with me ever since?” He leans forward, elbows on the table. “Say, did you fascinate about me?”

“Hmm..” you hum softly at his childish question, “only a little.” You show no signs of interest in his tactics as you sipped the wine in your hand. Undeniably, Gojo is taken aback by your lack of reaction. He hasn’t known you to be so reserved and smart at keeping him on edge. He couldn’t help finding your new behavior enticing.

Is there anything else you’d like to have?” You nodded your head towards the plates sitting on the table, some empty and some half-full. “Or do you wanna do something else before I go back to the hotel?”

“Hmm? Maybe I could join you at the hotel, actually. Surely it’ll be a lot less lonely with me around?”

You’re tempted by his offer, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach. He looked strikingly handsome today. Maybe you were just really lonely and touch starved, or maybe it’s the way his lips quirk as he teases you that makes your brain a little hazy, inappropriate thoughts floating through it and send jolts to your core. Yet, you set your mind on refusing his advances. You haven’t had a decent conversation since high school, for god's sake.

He keeps his eyes set on you, shining before him. You looked glamorous. He’d lie if he said there wasn’t a certain allure to  your matured looks. The years that flew by changed a lot of things about you two, but his breath still catches in his throat when your eyes meet his dreamy blues. The feelings rush back, memories clouding his train of thought. 

He’s sure he’s going to pay. He didn’t mind it at all, what a small price for getting to spend an evening with you. But you surprise him when you bring up that you had already put your card down, courtesy of having been the one to ask him out. Or maybe this was your way of telling him that you are in pretty good condition, living perfectly well without needing sorcery.

“How’s working as a jujutsu teacher?” you quip, smiling softly. “Utahime says you’ve got some interesting kids in your pack? Two special grades, too. You’re sure a favorite attraction for wonders.”

“You’re still in contact with her too?” he dodges talking about his students, not meeting your gaze. “That’s ironic. Weren’t we friends too?”

A hoarse chuckle emerges from him. But nothing about it leads back to amusement, as it was a joyless sound devoid of life. Almost as if he were mocking you. The dark lenses of the shades sitting on the bridge of his nose served as a shield. He curses himself for being so weak. He's almost thirty but somehow you’ve got him acting like he did when he was 17. 

“You didn’t try to contact me either,” you shrug, not willing to take the blame for your lack of contact. 

“You could have visited then. Even Yaga talked about you every once in a while,” he isn’t too happy and it’s showing.

“All good things, I hope-“

“Don’t change the subject,” he frowns, an uneasy edge outlining his words. “He was enough. You didn’t have to go ahead and leave too.”

“I had to move on, Gojo,” the name felt like a jab every time you used it. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. This is how you drew your boundaries. Calling them by their last names gives you a false sense of satisfaction, convincing yourself that your sorcerer friends are past figures now. Mere acquaintances. 

“-I couldn’t remain hung there forever, I valued my mental health. You grew distant, the atmosphere was growing uneasy every day. I had to cut ties with Jujutsu before I couldn’t recognize myself anymore.”

“Yet you’re here now. Back to square one,” his playful tone was long gone, now replaced by an even, stern one. “Whether you moved away or called us by our last names. It’s a curse you can’t escape. you’ll always end up back in the palms or jujutsu.”

His words held some truth. You know that. But just as he refused to confront this past, you repulsed the idea of your reality. You truly want to believe that you could escape this part of yourself and live a normal life. You couldn’t come to terms with your inability. You held onto your hopes as if your sanity completely depended on it. Another thing that won’t change no matter how much you grew.

“I'll be okay as long as I refuse to interact with this world.”

Once you leave the restaurant, you find yourself wandering through the rich streets of Minato city. It felt as though the night was pulling you further into its welcoming embrace, with nothing rushing you.

“He was only thirteen,” you chuckle, arm linked in his. “It’s unbelievable how bold kids nowadays are.”

“I would’ve done the same thing, honestly,” he smirks, his gaze fixed on the stores around.

“Of course. You’ve got the brains of a thirteen year old.”

Satoru grins at your remark, pulling you into a clothes store. 

“What’s this?” you look around in confusion, noting a woman in a suit welcoming you. The place looked a little too fancy, judging by the display of the items and the lighting of the place.

“It’s a western brand,” Satoru answers. Looking over at him, you can’t help but smile a little. He looks good tonight. His fancy outfit gave the impression that he’s a model to strangers. “Louis Vuitton, I think,” He furrows his brows, trying to remember the name of the brand stores he’s been to with Nobara and Shoko.

“Prada, sir,” The lady in a suit corrected him. “Can I help you?”

“We’re just browsing, thank you.” It’s a phrase he heard from Kugisaki countless times whenever they wandered into a store. His response makes you chuckle, watching as the lady takes a few steps backwards politely.

You’re soon comfortable, searching through the expensive coats and bags. Satoru watched tenderly. Even though the ten years that passed with no contact whatsoever definitely propose a wall between you, he's glad you're able to feel free. You might nit on the same page, but you two can work with what you have.

You stride back to the “S” shaped velvet couch sat in the middle of the checker-carpet store, where Satoru sat. But he was nowhere to be seen.

You walk around in hesitance and confusion, completely aware of the lady walking always a few feet behind you. Surveillance, you guess.

You find him standing in front of the white counter, taking a black bag with the brand’s name printed onto it in golden letters from the man standing behind the counter in a white shirt with the brand's logo on it.

“Gojo,” you call him, confusion fused into your expression.

He extends his arm to you, trying to suppress any sourness at you calling him Gojo. “Let’s go?”

You nod, eyeing him suspiciously before you link your arm in his. You make sure to flash a grateful smile at the woman by the door as you walk past the reflective glass door.

You almost forgot how busy the world outside is. It felt as though the glass building of the store was sound proof. Now you have to adjust to the noise of the full streets again.

Satoru remains silent for the most part. It’s not awkward, rather just neither of you knew what to say. He expected you to ask about what he bought, which you have considered. You decide against it though as you feel it’s none of your business. You’re not too surprised anyway as Gojo has always been a wealthy man. He could buy the entire Prada chain with half of his monthly spending.

“What do you wanna do now?” He asks. “Wanna go somewhere else?”

You think about going to the club to give the night the best closure. But neither of you were dressed for it anyway. You contemplate your choices. Then you grin at him, and Satoru knows it’s best to fear what comes after

You’re well aware that he has a high alcohol tolerance. While you would be wasted a few shots in. Yet you consumed so many drinks recklessly, thinking that maybe you could beat him in a drinking game.

That’s why he’s stuck to your side now, helping your sleeping body out of his car. Satoru is glad your hotel card was so easy to find in your purse, taking it out as he gets into the lobby.

A few people eye the man, glaring at him and at the way he held you in his arms. But he couldn’t bring himself to think too much about it. His mission is to get you to bed now.

“Satoruuu~” You whine, rubbing your face into the pillow once he sat you on the white bedding. “Stay with meeee”

And Satoru is nothing if not human. Despite what everyone else says. It’s proven now that he had come to face a human flaw like this. He is weak, and you are all but practically seducing him.

“Stop crying,” He mutters. He finds himself smiling sheepishly at the unlikely scenario he found himself in. Tucking you in bed, your face hot due to the drinks you had. He really should have stopped you. “I’ll stay the night, so sleep already.”

He convinced himself it’s for the best. He should watch over you for tonight. No funny business. Deep inside he knew he was just finding a reason— any reason to stay around you for a little longer, heart yearning for the lost years. But he ignored the pathetic feeling, convincing himself it’s for your sake instead.

“But I’m uncomfortableee,” you whine again, hands running down your body. “The dress...”

Did you have to make it so hard on him? Satoru is tempted to kiss you, eyebrows knitted in the space between, eyes looking around the room for any sort of aid.

This is probably a form of invading your privacy, but he sees no other choice. He’ll have to hold it together for tonight.

“nngh..”

Your groan came with an impending headache. Your body moves against the rich covers of the bed, sunlight illuminating your physique.

He stopped in his tracks, feet bare against the gray carpet.

Your form is beautiful, one to compete with statues of goddesses. The rays of light complimented every inch of skin in all the right ways. Satoru had to physically shake his head to stop the flowing perverted thoughts in his head.

Your flinch when you catch him standing near the door, heart beating slightly faster. You thought that you’re alone. You don’t think much of it anyway, muttering a “holy shit” under your breath.

“Good morning,” he casually greets, brushing off the mutual shock, albeit for different reasons. “I made coffee, if you wanted some.”

“Oh... thank you,” you mutter, rubbing your eyes as you sit up straight. “Did you eat anything yet?”

“Not yet, no,”  he says, holding his overly sweet coffee in both palms. “Thought I’d wait until you woke up.”

“You’re a real sweetheart, Satoru,” you yawn. His name slipped past your lips before you could stop it. You busy yourself with stretching your arms. “What a doting housewife God has blessed me with”

His response is only a chuckle, rolling his eyes as he sighs on the edge of the bed. “Well, at least I wasn’t begging a man to spend the night with me”

“Huh?”

You couldn’t remember anything of the prior night. Nothing that occurred after you sat at the bar, specifically. But then you begin to realize, eyes widening at the revelation. You feel dreadfulness landing in the pit of your stomach a little too late. 

He’s shirtless, wearing only his suit pants. And even though you wouldn’t mind the sight any other day, the fact that you are in your pajamas isn’t helping at all.

“Did we...” You trail off, expression darkening. Your eyes meet his own, fear implanted in your pupils. You watch as his expression drifts from confusion to an awkward hesitance. Unsure how to break the news to you.

You don’t know what to expect, not realizing you’re holding your breath. 

“I-I’m sorry,” He sighs, gaze faltering as his eyes look away from you. Your eyes widen further, oxygen becoming hard to consume.

What have you done?

“But- don’t worry. You know I’m not some asshole...” if anything, he sounded chivalrous. “I-I’ll be accountable for my mistake. When do you want to hold the wedding?”

You gasp, face feeling hot. “You piece of shit-“ You groan as your foot reaches him, forcefully pushing him off the bed. “As if!”

He breaks into a fit of laughter, the sound full of genuine delight. “I can’t believe you fell for it,” He manages between the laughter.

“Fuck you, Satoru,” you mutter, a smile of relief breaking across your face. “I can’t believe you pulled something so childish.”

“Why are you so down?” He climbed back onto the bed, reclaiming his spot on the edge. “Are you disappointed? You know it’s never too late to just as-“

“Fuck off,” Your heart is pounding as you send him another kick, less forceful this time. “Say one more word about it and I’ll make sure you don’t make it out of this room in one piece.”

He laughs, asking you to pass his coffee. You reach for his coffee from the bedside table. Your fingers lift the glass mug to your lips, sipping at the hot beverage before handing it to him.

Your face scrunches up at the horrible taste. Too much sugar. Too much milk. It’s a lot worse than you might think.

“Your coffee should be criminal,” you push the mug his way, frowning. Satoru hums in response. 

There’s no awkwardness between the two of you, and he can’t help but cherish it. He feels content, enough to sit a little closer, at least.

Enough to lean in towards you, mouth closing over yours in an ever awaited kiss, at least.

[angelsdxmise]

METANOIA

Pt. 2 to ORPHIC

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 when Bakugou is paired with a girl that’s not spared a glance for a project, he wants to explode. Why does his mind keep going blank when he looks at you then?

Contains: tiny bit of angst, readers a little hopeless, imagine the rest urself, there might be profanity idk i dont remember

a/n: 2.7k words 😔 plz consider reblogging and sending requests! btw pls remember italics mean reader is thinking. enjoy the fic ❤️

Your dorm room matched your personality somehow, and then again, it didn’t. 

It had posters, a TV, and a bookshelf filled with figures from your favorite mangas, decorative sculptures everywhere, and classic LEDs. Your room seemed to also have a main color, which was black. Though it managed to maintain some color. 

Thank the gods you had cleaned your room when you finished eating, because if you hadn’t it would’ve been very much flammable. You usually wouldn’t be worried about it, but since someone who has quite a destructive quirk turned up to your dorm demanding to be let in, you felt relieved.

A low, calming rhythm played on your speaker as you reviewed your slides. An herbal incense flooded your senses as you relaxed. You were so calm that you almost forgot Bakugou was next to you.

“Hey, I think you forgot to add my quirk’s drawbacks.” You flatly spoke. You never looked away from your laptop as your brows furrowed in utter concentration. You moved your hair out your face, slightly fanning yourself as you breathed out short huffs. You closed your balcony doors and turned your fan off to have your incense earlier, which you may have regretted.

Bakugou held back a long groan as he added another slide. “Tell me what they are.” He grumbled in a stale tone. He wanted to plug his nose and ears since he wasn’t used to such a strong smell. While you explained your quirk drawbacks and the reason for them, he cut you off in the middle of the sentence to ask,

“Is that a Rob Zombie poster?” 

Your head perked up in acknowledgment as you lost focus due to your zeal. Does he like Rob Zombie? Am I dreaming right now? “Uh, yeah.. do you--do you not like him?” You stammered out. A pang of shame ran through you, he was just a boy with a bad temper. There’s no point in being so scared.

“Why else would I be asking about it?!” He yelled, which put a beaming smile on your face. “Sorry! You don’t—I mean, you just surprised me!” You quickly explained, “I can play some of his songs, or you could just put your own playlist on my speaker.”

You took his phone and connected it to the speaker which temporarily paused your music, and handed it back to him which he aggressively snatched. Once he finally picked a playlist after scrolling endlessly, you actually ended up having similar music tastes. “I never took you for someone who liked a lot of rock bands, but for some reason, I’m not that surprised.” You played with the bracelets on your wrists as you admitted the last part of your sentence.

Bakugou took note of this and took his fingers off his keyboard. “You’ve learned something new then.” He shut his laptop and put his study supplies in the bag. Your voice made him pause for a moment. “Could you uh, send me the playlist? You don’t have to, I just like your taste.” 

He set his bag down and looked at you. “Give me your phone number.” He abruptly said, taking you off guard. “Huh?!” 

“I need your number to send the link, dumbass!” He snatched your phone out of your hands and made a new contact of himself. He didn’t even bother giving it a name. He kept muttering words you couldn’t make out, so you felt a little scared. When he stood, you quickly called out a thank you which he acknowledged with a small wave before closing your door.

At the sound of your door closing, you just sat there processing what happened. A smile didn’t leave your face and you didn’t feel any shame to force it to go away. Days like this were unusual for someone like you. Being on good terms with the most hot-headed student at UA. It’s best to say you had a peaceful sleep that night.

For once you had hope for your school life. Maybe you could save your social life a little. But, of course, your desires seem impossible to reach once you return to class. 

Your head rested against your desk as one of your hands reached down to pull your tights down, then came back up to cover your ear. It seems today was a cheerful day for the others as you overheard many of them talking about how their project would get full scores for how lucky they were with their partners.

Then, there were the booming voices of annoying teenage boys. Especially Mineta. You felt like you should start wearing pants to school in fear of him crawling under your desk and violating you in every way possible. Is this what Hell is like? Am I in the deepest circle?

Thankfully the class had quieted down immediately when Aizawa burst through the Class 1-A doors that were ginormous for some apparent reason. His voice made your head lift up in a stalled manner, as you felt sluggish today. You had been skipping on your nightly skincare, so your eyebags were still a little noticeable. 

You set your head in your palm as you wrote what you could manage, but ended up dozing off near the last hours. Even with a good sleep, you still managed to be exhausted. It’s difficult to live. 

You and your mom had left your dad and moved to Musutafu. You had to take what you could get when you got accepted into U.A. Honestly, you felt envious of people such as Yaoyorozu and Aoyama. You never really bought from designer brands when times were rough, and your mother had to alternate jobs.

As school ends and you’re on your way back to the dorms, you decide to take a quick walk down to any convenience store you can find. You held onto the strap of your backpack as you walked into the closest one, your eyes scanning for some bento sets. 

Once your eyes had landed on them, you selected one and made sure you had enough money to spare after purchasing it. Usually, the cashier for this store was shitty and had an attitude for no reason. But of course, you didn’t know his life so you tried to not judge. 

Confusion took hold of your senses as you didn’t see any cashier there. Oh well. You placed half the amount the bento costs on the counter, not necessarily stealing it, but giving what you felt he deserved. You put the rest of your money in your backpack’s side pocket as you made your way back to your dorm. 

A long walk is an understatement. It felt like 10 years was what it took to walk up that hill, wiping your forehead constantly as short huffs came from your throat. You opened the door to the dorms and darted straight for the elevator. The cool air made you relax for a moment before a beep came, and your feet dragged you out.

You woke up as your eyes spotted a small pouch sitting in front of your door. What’s this?.. you mused for a minute before picking it up and opening the door, a sudden warmth hitting your skin as you reached for your fan. You shut the door behind you as you hurriedly sat on your bed to open it up.

You reached for a small note that was inside which read, “I don’t know how you handle that herbal shit, use this.” Oh, it came from Bakugou. Your hands found another item, a cylinder-shaped object that made your eyes brighten in excitement as you quickly pulled it out.

He got me incense! An expensive one at that, no way! You flipped the incense packaging around, which read ‘Kitowa’. 

You stood to turn your fan off and went to your nightstand to replace your current incense with the gifted one. Once your lighter’s flame had hit the tip of the incense stick, a light woody smell filled your room which made your body slump and release a huge breath you didn’t know you were holding.

I should send him a thanks, it’s the least I could do. You reached over for your phone and opened his contact. You quickly typed out a ‘thank you for the incense Bakugou! It smells really nice.’ and stared at your message for a moment. You were pondering over your own message, and also making the realization that you were nervous.

You were genuinely nervous and giddy at the same time to send this text. You got over it anyway and made haste to throw your phone across the bed before kicking your shoes off and face-planting into your pillow. You didn’t make an effort to change as you succumbed to the exhaustion.

A loud knock woke you up, your eyes didn’t open as you sat up, trying to process what was going on. Another loud knock sounds and your eyes shoot open. What the hell? “Coming!” you groan out as you stand from your bed. Stumbling over your shoes and bag you reach your door, opening the handle. You’re met with the face of Bakugou. Okay, I’m definitely awake now..

“Change your clothes. There’s dinner downstairs and you haven’t come down at all.” His jagged voice interrupted your thoughts. “Wait—whaaa?..” You muttered, rubbing your eyes. “Hurry up.” He grabs the handle and closes your door.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have the fattest grin on your face after he closed your door. You dug through your clothes, throwing on a pair of black sweatpants and a misfits band shirt. You grabbed your phone and stopped for a moment as you looked at the notification.

***: it's no problem 4:03 P.M.

***: where the hell are you? dinners been ready for 10 minutes come down 6:47 P.M.

He ended up coming to your dorm 5 minutes after he sent the last message. You put some socks on before opening your door up again, and you tried to swallow down the lump in your throat as you saw Bakugou with his back leaning against the wall, with his arms crossed.

His signature frown was still plastered across his face as his eyes set on you. “Move your feet faster, extra.” He rasped out, already heading for the elevator, you quickly followed behind and attempted to make an effort to hide the shock on your face.

He somewhat punched the common room button, and you flinched when he did.

He pressed the button to close the doors more gently.

The ride down was a bit awkward, but you found comfort in the silence. Once the doors had opened, you walked out behind him. He grabbed your wrist suddenly and leisurely pulled you to his side as he kept walking, never letting go until you made it to the kitchen.

A few classmates noticed and pointed it out to the rest, as you lightly scratched the back of your neck in embarrassment. I guess I’d be staring too if I saw someone with such a bad temper hanging around me. you thought as you grabbed a bowl. “Get me one too.” Bakugou insisted, and you stopped for a second. Reaching your other hand up, you said, “You haven’t eaten yet?” as you grabbed the second bowl and set it down. 

“I’m just grabbing seconds,” He began to fill his bowl as he glanced at you. “Everyone’s already eaten. The losers are gonna do a movie night.” Your eyes lost their light at the sound of that. Of course, nobody told you. You drowned in your own dismal as you filled up your bowl with food. The smell made you feel slightly better, but it was nowhere near happy.

Once you were done, you turned to Bakugou. “Thanks for bringing me down, I’m just gonna head back upstairs.” You spoke in a brittle voice, and before you could reach the elevator you heard his footsteps coming from behind you. You could tell he made an effort to catch up.

He didn’t turn his eyes to you or offer an explanation after he pressed his floor's button, and didn’t allow you to go to yours. You frowned, “What’re you doing?” He finally looks at you. “Back to my dorm.”

whaa.. HUH?

“Wait—what?” You couldn’t process his sudden words as he took your wrist once more in his free hand, dragging you along with him to his dorm. He opened his door and ushered you to the bed before closing it.

You reluctantly sat down, as it was the second and only time you’d been in his dorm for any purpose other than school. He sighed as he sat down with his back against the bed frame, and pulled his laptop out from his bag.

“If you don’t sit next to me, you’re not gonna be able to watch the movie, you idiot.” His words made your ears blaze with heat and you carefully scooted next to him, making sure not to spill any food. “Got anything you wanna watch?” He asked as he took a bite of the hotpot.

“Hmm.,” Your eyes drifted to the side as you thought, “What about The Florida Project?” You suggested, “It’s not on Netflix, we’d probably have to find a random website to watch it.” 

He smiled faintly, he’s seen that before and so have you. “I’m fine with that.” His tone was softer as he clicked away to find a website to watch the movie. As he pressed play you scooted a tiny bit closer to watch it.

Midway through the movie you both finished your bowls and made slight comments on every scene, and he evilly laughed at most of the sad scenes while you scolded him for it.

As the movie reached the end, you had been leaning against him with your head on his shoulder. He had one hand behind his head and the other resting against his thigh. You nearly cried.

As the movie finished, you fell asleep against him. He abandoned the movie a while ago, but not on purpose. He took a little time to think about you since you’d been running around his mind without consent anyway.

Not only were you pretty, but your personality seemed to be a calming point for him. You, yourself, seemed to tell him to chill. You liked similar things, and you introduced him to incense which he secretly had on his shelf, above his bed. He had also ended up putting in orders for a few new posters after seeing your room.

He took the chance of your sleeping state to quietly shut off his laptop and hesitantly reached his hand around your body to rest it on your hip. He rested his head against yours as he rubbed small circles on your skin.

You shifted a little and his heart jumped, not wanting you to think he was some sort of pervert. Bakugou was slightly sure that his classmates were asleep, so he decided to carry you back to your dorm.

You awoke the next morning in your bed, sluggishly rising up and stretching as your joints popped. 4:32 read the time, and you definitely couldn’t go back to sleep now. You decided to take the extra time and get ready for school.

You smoothed out your skirt as you took your seat, and this time you didn’t rest your head in your palm. You felt like you finally rested your body. Your eyes darted up as you heard a thud in front of you. It was.. Bakugou?

He crashed into the seat in front of you, putting his elbows on your desk and turning his body to you. “Let’s uh.. study at that new cafe that opened up.” He looked away as he huffed the words out, suddenly interested in the outside world.

Is he asking me on a date or something? “Oh.. I mean,” His heart dropped and his brows furrowed as you started to talk. He had doubts about you saying no, and it seemed they were coming true.

“Sure.. I was gonna ask you, actually.” You giggled, setting your hands on the desk as you tapped your nail occasionally against it. He turned back to you, and he had a genuine smile plastered across his face as he didn’t leave this time immediately. He stayed, and he talked with you.

And he would do it many, many more times.

pls do not post anywhere w/out permission

[littlegrapejuice]

Saved his life | LS2

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x Reader

Summary: You come to check on Logan after qualifying at the Dutch GP, hoping to lift his spirits.

Author's Note: ok so this literally came to me in a dream😭 logan's replacement was announced on tuesday (still crying about it btw) and istg i woke up wednesday morning after having lived this plot during my sleep

You had been seeking him out after FP3, and were once again seeking him out after qualifying. Logan was nowhere to be found and you worried about the state he mentally was in since his crash. The backlash from his team as well as journalists had blown out of proportion, for they were all focusing on the damages suffered by the car before considering the health of the driver.

Similar to you, Logan's fans were doing their best to support him and wondered about how he was doing. You had seen many comments online about people complaining that neither Williams - as in James Vowles - nor commentators had expressed an interest in the well-being of the driver, only talking about ruining a newly upgraded car - which would be proven illegal later on.

Scouring the paddock, you were now going from garage to garage looking for Logan. Obviously, you had first gone to the Williams one but without any success in finding the American. You hadn't even known at first if he was actually at the track, but a quick shot of him on the TV screen had confirmed you that he was indeed in his garage.

This is why as soon as qualifying ended, you had waited for George to come back to the Mercedes garage so that you could notify him that you were leaving for the time being. You had plans together later tonight, meaning that he didn't mind you doing whatever you wanted until then.

And that's thus how you were still walking around the paddock, praying that it wouldn't take much longer to find Logan.

As you then thought you had seen him from afar, someone obviously had to come up to you and stop you in your tracks. You turned around at the tap on your shoulder and was met with a blonde driver, but not quite the one you would've rather faced.

"Hi Max," you said with a smile.

"Hey, you alright?" He asked both because he was genuinely interested in your answer and because he couldn't help but notice you frantically looking around.

"Yeah, I'm good! Congrats on P2, that's great at your home race." You gave a last glance to the side and decided to temporarily abort your mission as you had unfortunately lost sight of who you thought had been Logan.

"Thanks, I wish I could've gotten pole but I'll get the first place from turn one so that's alright."

"I'll be internally rooting for you, but you know I'll have to stick to my roots and publicly support my team."

"Of course," Max replied. "The Red Bull garage is always open if you ever feel like changing your mind. We also probably have better food than Mercedes." He let out a smile at your laugh before scratching his throat, as if he was thinking about his next words. "Listen, I-"

"Sorry Max," you apologised as you checked your watch and got afraid you would miss logan leaving the track. "I'd love to talk more with you but I was on the way to do something important so please make it quick."

"Yeah, hmm... did you have the chance to visit the city and its surroundings? I was thinking that..." Max hesitated before he saw you nodding at him, silently telling him to continue. "We could grab a drink or some food later on, and I can show you around? Seeing as this is my home country, I'm pretty familiar with it so I could give you a proper tour and you'd see things that you would never see with a regular tour guide and-"

"Sounds lovely yeah!" You felt pretty bad for interrupting him once again, but the clock was really ticking and you were getting more nervous. "I already have something planned for tonight though, so maybe another day?"

"Well, there's only tomorrow left then. After the race?" He suggested with hope in his tone.

"I'll get back to you on that. Depending on who's winning, I might be celebrating someone else you know."

"Of course, but I'm pretty confident that I can score another victory here."

"Great, then that's settled! Super cool to chat with you Max, I'll see you later." You waved at him and quickly started walking again to the direction you had last seen Logan several minutes ago.

You were gone so fast that you hadn't even heard Max telling you that he would text you his request again, as he had sensed that your focus had been on all but your exchange with him. You liked Max to be honest; he was a really sweet guy and could easily match your energy as a fellow yapper. However, he had chosen the worst moment to strike up a conversation with you. Thinking about how you could repay it to him next time you'd see him - probably tomorrow, all your stress was going away as you finally found the person you were looking for.

You stopped close enough to him that he would notice you, but a few metres away so that you had time to catch your breath without it being too obvious that you had been almost running around for him.

As he called out your name, you couldn't help the smile that lit up your face.

"You're good?"

"I am now, thanks. Been searching for you, you know? You're quite hard to find," you told him in complete honesty with a light laugh.

"Really?" Logan was surprised by your words. He hadn't expected anyone to come talk to him today, except for his teammate Alex or a couple drivers texting him for a check up.

"Yeah," you nodded. "I couldn't see you after practice earlier and I thought talking to you face to face was better than a text so yes, I was looking for you."

If you and Logan weren't surrounded by hundreds of people, he would definitely shed a tear at your kindness - not like anyone was actually paying attention to the both of you as you were on the side of the path. He didn't think a headline consisting of F1 Driver Logan Sargeant seen crying while talking with F1 Driver George Russel's long-time friend was a good idea though.

"And you wanted to talk to me about something important?" He wondered.

"That's what I said", you replied. "I wanted to talk to you, about you, I guess."

"That's not super-"

"It is," you immediately interrupted him before he could finish his sentence. You knew what he was about to say and you were definitely not letting him give voice to his thoughts. Seeing as he was still taken aback by your words, you kept going. "You're important, Logan. More than a random chassis, or an engine, or whatever they put in the shit car that they make you drive."

Hearing your own sentence, you were about to apologise for the strong opinion - Logan was driving said car so you didn't know if you were right to comment on it - but the chuckle that came from the American stopped you from doing so. It didn't last long as Logan quickly covered his mouth, thus shutting down the sound, but you suddenly wished you could hear it again.

And not because you're trash talking his team, but because you're, let's say, watching a movie together and a funny scene comes up; or because you're walking around a park and he laughs at your clumsiness when you almost trip on a random rock.

You just wished, right now, that you weren't at the track, in this paddock, with all those cars and people around. You just wanted to be with him, in a quiet place where you could just enjoy each other's presence without having to worry about a team principal that didn't take his driver's needs into account or about journalists that couldn't seem to see the human aspect of a driver behind the suit and helmet.

Your thoughts were however soon interrupted when a hand appeared in front of your face.

"Hello? Earth to whatever planet you're on?" Logan had a smile on his face. He wasn't laughing anymore but he didn't seem annoyed either at your silence. "Did you get lost in your mind?"

"Possibly", you answered with a nervous laugh. "Sorry, won't happen again."

"It's fine, don't worry."

You could see Logan was genuine in his eyes. The way they were being lit up by the sun suddenly made you wonder about what was hidden behind it. They often say that eyes are the mirror of the soul; but for now, you could only see yourself in Logan's.

"Hey Logan," you said after a few seconds of silence. He glanced down at you, which you took as a sign to continue. "Do you wanna hang out with me tonight? I- hmm I have this dinner with George, Lando, Alex, and their girls. And it could be nice of you to join. I mean, if you want to of course, and if you don't have anything planned already but yeah, that'd be cool. I'd like that."

When Logan didn't reply, you started to think that it was over and that your stress was so obvious, and that he wasn't going to accept the offer. But then:

"I'd love to." Your gaze was now filled with hope, until the next words left Logan's mouth. "But I think I need to be alone tonight. It's absolutely not against you or the others, but today hasn't been the best day for me as you obviously know and even though it could lighten up my mood, I'd rather focus on tomorrow's race."

"Oh, hmm... okay, yeah... I totally get it, no problem."

Logan was not dumb; he noticed your immediate change of attitude as you lowered your gaze, so he decided to add on to his explanation:

"It's just a raincheck, you know? I'm not going out tonight, but I'd absolutely be down for another day if we both find the time. Sounds good?"

"Yeah!" You nodded with a smile. "Raincheck, okay, got it."

"Sorry to cut this short, but I gotta go for now." Logan gave you a smile before checking his phone. "I'll get back to you for a hang out, but thanks for taking the time to talk with me. I truly appreciate it."

"It's normal, we're friends so... I wasn't really thinking twice about it."

"Then thank you for that as well. We'll see each other later, right?"

"Of course," you confirmed. "Race's tomorrow so at least then, goodbye for now Logan."

"Bye, take care."

He gave you a quick hug before departing, and next thing you knew, he was gone. You then turned around, ready to exit the paddock and go back to your hotel, so that you could get ready for your dinner tonight with your friends.

.....

"George, hey!" You called out to him as you saw him from afar. "Thanks for waiting, sorry I'm a little late."

"No problem," he replied. "I sent Alex and the girls inside to keep us a table. We're just missing Lando, but I think he'll be here soon."

As if on cue, you had received a text. Thinking it was from the curly haired man, you opened it in front of George before reading the sender and the content of the message.

Hi! Regarding our conversation from earlier, I decided to formally ask if you wanted to grab dinner with me tomorrow night after the race?

A smile unknowingly took place on your face, and George couldn't help but notice it.

"What's got you all happy?" He asked before adding a comment. "You're even blushing so I guess this is not Lando."

"It's no one," you said as you immediately locked your phone before George could look at the screen. "Just a friend I'm supposed to catch up with tomorrow."

"You have friends other than us in the Netherlands right now?" A familiar voice questioned from behind you.

"Lando!" George exclaimed as the last of your group was finally here. "Hey mate. Congrats on pole. Good quali you did there."

"Thanks man." Lando glanced at you while the three of you started walking inside the hotel, towards the restaurant. "So what's this about a friend of yours?"

"Drop it Lando," you replied, annoyed - although you could truly never be annoyed with him. "I'll tell you all about it when it's over if you still wanna know after the weekend."

"Of course I will! I'll even bring that up in the groupchat so you'll have to tell this wonderful and absolutely not suspicious story to everyone," Lando laughed as he nudged your side.

Thankfully, neither George nor Lando had brought up the topic with the others, even though they were still curious on what you were hiding. You were glad that they didn't because how could you even explain to them that you would be going out to dinner with a fellow driver? You honestly didn't think they would mind, but you also didn't want them to go and bother said driver when you knew that the paddock's walls had ears everywhere.

Hoping that it would be fine to reply to the text later, you had therefore waited until you were back in your hotel room to agree to the offer. Tonight's dinner had been amazing and you were always happy to spend time with your friends whom you didn't see much, but tomorrow's would be something even more special as it would actually be your first time hanging out one on one with the driver you were maybe fancying.

Before forgetting, you also decided to notify your friends of your plans - omitting the driver aspect of the 'friend' you would be seeing after the race - so that they wouldn't be surprised to not see you attend any celebration. Of course you would try and spend some time with the winner if he was part of your friend group, but at least you were in the clear to not go party all night with them.

.....

And you had never once regretted not attending the party that had celebrated Lando's win at the Dutch Grand Prix. He had told you that day after the race that you would have a myriad of other chances to attend another one as he was planning on winning more and more often - which he did.

Tonight's party, however, would be in your honour. As well as Logan's. And you couldn't see yourself anywhere else than here, in front of him. You truly didn't think you would one day end up in this situation, and neither did he. Logan hadn't really expected to experience such an event in his life, but he eventually did, all thanks to you.

You had saved his life. That day, when you reached out to him after qualifying, was unknowingly a turning point in his life. He had been at his lowest. He had known what would certainly happen following the Grand Prix; he had been expecting to be let go after the disastrous performances he was giving.

Knowing didn't make it less painful though.

He did get dropped by his team, Williams, which you cursed for as long as you could and still did from time to time. And even if Logan had achieved being a Formula One driver - which no one could ever take away from him, he had still felt like he was worthless after it happened.

He hadn't known how to process the sudden end of his short time on the grid and felt lost for a while, wondering about what would define him as a person now that the dream he'd had since he was a child was over.

But you had made him believe that it wasn't the end of the world and that something else was waiting for him. He could've ended it all, but you showed him a glimmer of hope and he chose to keep going, see what else was in store for him. He still had a future. And he had been right to trust you, as he was now here, facing you and about to be making you his. Only two words left to say before doing so.

'Thank you', he mouthed to you before the long-awaited sentence was to be heard out loud. "I do", he then confirmed without tearing his gaze away from your face.

..........

Okayyyy so this it lol

Hope y'all liked it🫶🏻 this was my 1st time ever writing for a driver since i got into motorsports and I feel really happy w it!! Thanks to my brain for making me dream ab logan, i think it kinda helps me cope regarding him not being the grid anymore (i miss him sm chat)

Idk when I'll write again for a driver if i ever do so, but don't hesitate to give feedback on this so that ik how to approach a future work🤍