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finelinefae · 8 months ago

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birdy [Pilot!harry x teacher!y/n]

synopsis: it’s the 1950s. harry's had a hard life and y/n just wants the truth

word count: 12.3k

contains: fluff, angst, childhood trauma, nightmares, abusive father, neglectful parents, grovelling, smut (size kink, tiny praise kink, breeding kink, oral m receiving)

this is part 3 of the aviator read part 2 here

this could have gone one of two ways...

. . .

Y/N was convinced that returning to the airbase took only half as much time as the journey to reach the campsite. She hated hiking, even more so after this trip, but she had places to be so she charged down the trail all the way back to the airbase. The clouds overhead seemed to mirror her anger, morphing into shades of grey, empathising with her mood.

“Y/N, Harry went back earlier this morning. We came back from the bonfire and he was hyperventilating and shit. Thought he was gonna pass out so me and Pat went to get him some water but when we got back he was gone.” Sonny had told her when she had asked why Harry was missing.

Y/N’s mind instantly went to the night she had woken up to one of Harry’s nightmares. She wondered whether or not that had something to do with his sudden disappearance. However, it didn't seem to cool the anger she felt that seemingly continued to grow with every fueled step she took back towards Offutt.

As she made it out of the clearing, she noticed a figure sitting under a tree in the distance. She paused, squinting her eyes and immediately recognising those broad shoulders and that head full of brunette curls. Now that she could finally see him, she wondered if it would be better to just let him sit and wallow in whatever guilt he may or may not be feeling but she considered confronting things like this as self-care and she wouldn’t allow herself to return home without knowing why she had woken up alone this morning.

She ignored the droplets of rain that began to fall slowly from the sky. Instead, she trudged through the slightly muddy grass. Y/N caught his head turn as though he sensed her incoming. He shot up, standing tall and began to walk towards her.

Harry couldn’t even react when he saw the anger radiating from her face. He knew what he had done and there was no good reason for it, “Y/N-”

When she was finally in front of him, Y/N took a deep breath to steady herself. “Don’t ever disrespect me like that again,” she said firmly, her voice carrying her emotions. Then, turning away, she began to walk away from him.

She felt a hand wrap around her wrist but she tugged it, breaking free from his grip, “No,” She turned around to face him, “You walk away from me, I walk away from you.” It’s what she planned to do all along, make him realise how much it hurt to have someone turn their back on you.

Harry’s heart seemed to crack as her voice trembled, “Y/N,”

“Why?” Her bottom lip wobbled but she held her breath, trying to be stronger than him, “Why would you do that? Y’know, I’ve put a lot of faith in you Harry, I trusted you. People labelled you so many things and I always backed you up but that was just…Mean. You are being mean.”

“I know, I know,” Harry said, which only fuelled her anger even more. He had no idea what it felt like to wake up alone, especially after admitting something so honest.

“You have no idea,” Her voice raised, “You have no idea what that felt like because you will always be the person who leaves.”

Harry couldn’t seem to find the words. She was right and finally seeing him how he saw himself. There was nothing good about him and he had been told that his entire life by all the people he cared about. Everything he loved as a child was taken away from him with claw marks all over them. He had been forced to grow up, leave home and raise three kids. He knew one day that they too would be taken away from him- they’d find better people, a happier life - and he would be left with nothing because it was all that he had known and all that he had deserved.

Y/N couldn’t seem to fathom how he stood there in complete silence. The silence seemed to birth a new feeling inside her, another seed planted in her slow-burning heartbreak.

Until His voice murmured something, barely audible to her ear, "It was you."

She stilled, “What?”

His head lifted and she finally got to see him through the fog of anger. His cheeks were tear stained, his eyes red-rimmed and tired like he had barely slept. His hair looked as though he had run his fingers through them one too many times. “In my nightmare, it was you.” He confessed.

Y/N was struggling to breathe, “What are you talking about?” She whispered, her eyes glassy.

“I haven’t experienced it that way in so long, I-I thought I was okay now.” Harry's chest rose and fell with each heavy breath.

“What did they do to you?” Y/N took a step forward.

“I thought I was at home. I-I was in my room in my own body and my pops was there sitting in his armchair. He wouldn’t stop laughing at me and then I looked down and saw y’ on the floor,” Harry inhaled sharply like he was picturing the moment as he was re-calling it, “I tried to wake y’ up but you wouldn’t reply, y’ wouldn’t wake up and he was just sat there laughing and laughing. I was calling for help but no one could hear me and t-then he started saying I did it.”

Y/N couldn’t hold back her tears anymore as Harry began to cry. She wanted to reach out for him, to remove every bad thing that had ever happened to him and replace them with good.

“He said it was me who hurt you,” He cried, “I tried to save you Y/N but I couldn’t and he was just laughing.”

“Harry,” Y/N whispered, grabbing his hand and feeling him grip her fingers so tightly she thought it would cut off the circulation.

“I woke up outside,” He murmured, sniffling, “I was sitting out somewhere in the morning and Sonny and Patsy found me. I could hardly catch m’breath and they went off to get something that’d help but I was too ashamed. I couldn’t face them and I couldn’t face you either.”

"Why?" Y/N couldn't help but ask, despite all the times she had promised him she would be there for him.

Harry's gaze fell to the ground as he struggled to find the words. “Because,” He huffed, trying to smile but he just looked broken, “What’s a girl like you doing with someone like me? God, I love you so much Y/N. I’ve never loved anybody in m’ whole life and the only thing I know about it is that y’ give the people y’ love what they are most deserving of and you deserve so much more than what I can give.”

Y/N’s lips parted but he continued, “I have nothing. I am nobody. Outside of this place, I have nothing. I come from a family of nobodies and you…you are everything.”

Y/N’s heart ached with every word he spoke and the vulnerability and pain on his face. She felt as though he was cutting himself open and he had nothing more he could hide away from her, “Harry, you are changing that.” She whispered, her voice filled with conviction.

He frowned, puzzled by her words, uncertain of their meaning. “The way you are with your brothers and Elise, what you’ve given them, it is the biggest example of love I have ever seen. This life you’ve shown them here comes from your love Harry.” She said, a smile breaking through her tears as his expression softened. She reaches up to cup his cheek in her hand, “I don’t want you to give me something better, I want you to give me you and the love I have seen you give to the people you care about. And I want to give you love too because I love you more than words can even comprehend and you are so deserving of it.”

Harry’s eyes close softly as if he can’t quite believe the words he’s hearing and he’s trying to absorb it all. Y/N pulls his head down so their foreheads are pressed against each other, “Maybe you thought you had nothing but you always had love and if this is your nothing then I want all of it. That is what I want you to give to me.” She whispers.

There's a pause, a moment of silent understanding between them, as Harry processes her words. His eyes slowly flutter open, revealing a depth of emotion that takes her breath away. She sees in his gaze a mixture of disbelief and gratitude as if her words have unlocked something within him that he never thought possible.

And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, Harry's hands find their way to her face, his touch gentle yet firm. It's as if he's trying to memorise every contour, every line, every curve as if he's afraid that this moment might slip away if he doesn't hold on tight enough.

"There is nothing in this world that means more to me than you," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath. "Thank you," he adds, his words filled with sincerity and love.

Y/N smiles softly, her eyes reflecting warmth and understanding. "That's okay," she says gently.

The rain pours around them as they stand underneath the shelter of the tree. Harry doesn’t even ask for permission, too eager to, as he presses his lips to hers. Y/N squeaks in surprise but melts into him when she allows herself to feel all the things he can’t communicate, put into every motion of his lips.

Harry feels new like the burden of his childhood is eased from his shoulders as the light from her kiss injects itself into his body. He wonders how he could ever allow himself to walk away from this, “I’m so sorry Y/N.” He says against her lips, “I love you, I’m sorry.”

Y/N sighs, “We’ll learn,” She says, “We’ll get better and we’ll both learn.”

It’s more than just words of forgiveness, it’s a promise and the start of something new.

When they finish kissing, they both look up at the sky and see how hard the rain is pouring, “I think I’m over this trip now.” Y/N sighs, “I don’t think I ever want to go camping again.”

“Oh c’mon it was fun,” Harry teases with a sniffle but then sees her deadpan expression, “Okay it could have been better but at least we’re together now.”

Y/N takes her hand away from him and crosses her arms, “Who decided that?”

Harry’s face drops, “I-I thought-.”

She quirks a brow, “I haven’t forgiven you for leaving me yet. That was just cruel and you should know better!”

Harry looked at her apologetically “I know baby-“ He reached for her hand but she swiftly moved away, stepping out into the rain and walking back towards the trail.

“I won’t be letting you off so easily.” Harry’s shoulders slumped as he stayed glued to the floor, watching her walk away from him.

He tried not to smile as she stumbled over the uneven ground, her clothes getting wet from the rain. He cupped his mouth and yelled, “But y’ still love me right?”

“Of course I do you idiot!” She yelled over her shoulder.

Harry smiled, “I love you too, bigger than the whole sky Y/N.”

“Oh yeah?” Y/N yelled, “Prove it!”

Harry chuckled, running over to join her in the rain.

. . .

To grovel actually meant to get down on your knees and beg for not only days but weeks in Y/N’s books which Harry had gradually come to realise.

They returned from the airbase before everybody else and arrived at Y/N’s house to shower. Harry had tried to persuade Y/N to shower with him, using the classic excuse of ‘it’ll save water’ but she was too smart for that and he knew better.

Soon, life resumed its usual rhythm after the camping trip, but there was a noticeable change in Y/N and Harry. Others noticed the absence of tension between them, seeing the love reflected in their gazes whenever they looked at each other. However, they couldn't understand why Y/N refused to acknowledge their relationship, or why Harry seemed so smitten and eager- all of a sudden walking around like he was a lovesick puppy in need of attention.

Every day Harry would be doing something for Y/N, whether it was buying her flowers at the start of every week or walking her home during his work breaks. He’d rarely ever be seen with another woman, let alone make eye contact with them, all because he was desperate to make it up to the only woman he’d ever want for the rest of his life.

“Y/N,” Francine, one of the nursery workers, called her name as she was washing up paint pots in the sink, “He’s here for you.”

Y/N tried to hide her smile, “Could you tell him to wait please Fran?”

Soon Fran returned and in her arms was a giant bouquet, “He couldn’t stay very long,” She handed Y/N the roses, “But he told me to give you these.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, her hands still dripping wet as she held the red roses in her arms. She placed them on the countertop and took out the card attached to the bouquet. ‘I love you bigger than the whole sky, your Harry.’

Y/N bit down on her lip as she folded the small piece of paper and slid it into the front pocket of her apron. “When’s that boy gonna put a ring on y’ finger?” Loretta, one of the older nursery workers asked.

Y/N scoffed, “Only if he can get near my hand first, Loretta.”

Although marriage would definitely not be happening anytime soon, the picture of it in her mind made her smile.

In the evening, Y/N had been enjoying some much-needed girl time with Molly and Patsy. Y/N hadn’t seen Nancy since the night of the bonfire. She was rarely ever home to the point where the girls wondered why she even bothered renting her room out for much longer.

They sat around the living room in pink robes, watching a movie and reading magazines. It had been a while since Y/N had had some downtime with her housemates. So much of her time had been either working or being trapped in the whirlwind that was her relationship with Harry.

“Can I have some of that?” Patsy asked, unable to keep her eyes off the television as she held her hand out for the bottle of wine.

Molly passed it over but her eyes narrowed on Patsy, “Is that Sonny’s sweatshirt you’re wearing under that?”

Patsy finally looked away, her mouth opening and closing, “N-no?” She lied, terribly.

“Did you sleep with him?” Molly questioned.

Patsy swallowed, “No…maybe…yes.”

Patsy's feeble attempt at denial only made Y/N and Molly laugh harder. Y/N struggled to stifle her giggles, while Molly's laughter rang out loud and clear.

"And? How was it?” Molly urged, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Patsy’s face flushed bright red, “It was good.”

“That’s it?” Molly frowned.

“Fine,” Patsy’s shoulders slumped, “It was wonderful, Mol. The best I’ve ever had.”

“You’re lying,”

“It’s true!” Patsy exclaimed, “There’s just something about ‘em, right Y/N? You slept with Harry already didn’t you?”

Y/N’s smile fell from her face, “Huh?”

Molly smirked, “Now you definitely cannot lie about that. Everyone knows it.”

Y/N's smile faltered, confusion flickering in her eyes. "What do you mean, everyone knows?"

Molly's smirk widened. "Come on, Y/N. It's written all over your face. You've got that look all the girls have, you know the one where they lie about being with someone when it’s clearly not the truth."

Y/N's cheeks flushed as realisation dawned on her. "Oh," she murmured, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"So, spill it," Molly urged, leaning in with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Have you?"

“I don’t know…Maybe,” She could feel the corner of her lips tugging upwards and her hands quickly shot up to cover her face.

Her two housemates squealed, jumping up from the couch with excitement, “You have?” Molly grinned.

“Yes!” Y/N laughed.

“Tell us all about it!” Patsy fell to the floor and leaned in towards her.

“O-Oh, I-” But as luck would have it, Y/N was interrupted by the doorbell ringing and then the door swinging open.

“Patsy?” Sonny’s voice rang down the hallway as he invited himself in again.

Molly rolled her eyes, annoyed, “What is it?”

Footsteps sounded against the hardwood floors as Sonny entered the living room. His eyes landed on the girls as they sat on the floor, “What are you doing?”

"What does it look like we're doing?" Molly retorted, crossing her arms defensively.

"Can I join in?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Patsy groaned, "Just tell us what you want, already."

“Oh,” Sonny shook his head as if reminding himself why he was here, “Elise is sick,”

Y/N stood up, “What? How sick?”

“George has had to bath her four times already and Harry can’t seem to get her to sleep. It’s manic in that house, y’ gotta help us out.” Sonny begged.

"But it's girl's night," Molly said firmly, gesturing toward the girls in their gowns. "And we're not your nurses or your babysitters."

"Please?" Sonny's eyes pleaded, darting towards Y/N.

Y/N sighed, relenting. "Fine. Let me get dressed." She manoeuvred past the girls seated on the floor and headed upstairs to her room to change.

“What? Patsy, y’ can’t be serious?” Molly whined.

“It’s Elise and Sonny’s sister.” Patsy shrugged as though it was reason enough.

Molly huffed, knowing no matter what she said it wouldn’t be enough to persuade them to help a sick child. The girl’s night they had planned would just have to be put on hold, “Alright,” She conceded.

Sonny led the girls across the estate to the Styles’ household. Along the way, Y/N and Molly teased Patsy and Sonny when they noticed them holding hands inside the pocket of Sonny’s aviator coat. The closer they got to the house, the more they could hear Elise wailing from inside.

He swung the door open, the girls following behind, “I’m back!” Sonny called as they entered the kitchen, “I bought reinforcements.”

Harry turned around when they all stepped into the room. He was shirtless, holding onto a crying Elise, her little face all scrunched up and red. His eyes immediately gravitated towards Y/N, “You’re here,” He sighed as if the sight of her had alleviated some of the stress he was feeling.

Y/N walked straight up to him and took Elise out of his grip, “M here,” She sighed, “Oh sweet girl, it’s okay,” Y/N kissed the side of the two-year-olds head, swaying her side to side in her arms.

“She’s been sick all afternoon, must have got it off some kid at the nursery.” Harry exclaimed, his eyes tired from taking care of his sister and being at work all day, “I’ve tried everything. Normally singing her to sleep helps but she won’t seem to settle and I’m all out of ideas.”

“Hey,” Y/N placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling his warm skin, “It’s okay, we’re here to help you.”

He relaxed beneath her touch, the sentiment making him smile, “Y’ don’t have to,” Harry murmured.

“Harry,” Y/N gave him a stern glare, “I want to.”

His lips curved into a grateful smile as he nodded. "Thank you."

Y/N was so ensnared by his captivating eyes she had to force herself to look away, “Go shower. We’ll clean up down here.”

Harry saluted playfully, brushing past her but not before pressing a hasty kiss to her cheek. Y/N gasped, spinning around and seeing a hint of a smirk on his face as he ran up the stairs.

“Ha Ha,” Elise croaked, pointing at her brother.

Y/N’s expression softened at the little girl’s tired voice, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

As Sonny and Patsy helped clean the kitchen, Molly made a start on dinner and George and Y/N bathed Elise in the kitchen sink. Although Elise was exhausted from being sick all afternoon, everyone went about their chores whilst trying to bring a smile to her face. Whenever she giggled at George and Sonny's antics or Patsy's playful arguing with Sonny whenever he attempted to flirt with her, the group would cheer from their achievement at making her laugh.

Once they’d put all the dishes on the table, Harry had come down from his shower. Y/N drew in a breath when he walked through the door with damp curls and a towel around his waist, “Jus’ need to grab something,” He smirked as he walked past Y/N who caught the smell of his coconut shampoo.

As Y/N stood at the kitchen sink to get rid of Elise’s bath water, she felt his solid form come up behind her. Her lips parted, a breath of air escaping her, as he placed a hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed. With his other arm, he reached out, his hand still resting on her shoulder, to open the cupboard above her and pulled out a clean hand towel.

The warmth spreading through her body dissolved once he pulled away. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding when she heard his feet against the floor fade as he left the room.

To her side, Molly and Patsy were trying not to laugh as they covered their mouths and tried to resume what they had previously been talking about before they were briefly interrupted. Y/N rolled her eyes and walked to the table to begin plating up dinner for everybody.

Harry had returned from his shower and now sat at the end of the table with Y/N to his right and Elise beside her sitting in a high chair. She was nibbling at the food George had prepped for her, taking small bites when she felt like it.

Everyone tucked into their meal as a smooth jazz record lulled in the background. Suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence, George piped up, “So is everyone dating at this table?”

Sonny groaned, “Why’d you bring that up?”

“Because!” George paused, cutting into his meat, “I can’t handle the tension in this room, it’s like you all want to have sex with each other.”

“George don’t be so vulgar,” Molly snapped, her tone sharp, “But he does have a point.”

“Well Patsy and I are together,” Sonny put an arm around Patsy’s shoulders only to receive an angry glare in return, “What?” He took his arm back, “They already figured it out!”

“Well, what about Y/N and Harry,” Patsy crossed her arms, wanting to divert the attention to something else, all heads turning to face the couple at the end of the table.

“Well, I-I-“ Y/N was all flustered, not knowing how to approach the subject until Harry stepped in.

“It’s up to Y/N,” Harry shrugged, taking a bite from his fork. Y/N’s head whipped in his direction, “I’ll do whatever she wants me to do.”

As he spoke the words, she felt his hand land on her thigh. Y/N stilled as he squeezed her knee but instead of freezing like she always seemed to do with him, she placed her hand on top of his and flipped his hand over to intertwine their fingers wanting to show him at least some grace for his ability to speak when she couldn’t find the words.

“Well good for Y/N. You see not all girls are easily swayed by you boys, you know.” Molly remarked.

“Ahh are you sure about that Mol? Maybe it’s just because you’re the only girl here who hasn’t tried to sleep with any of us.” George quipped with a teasing grin.

Molly scowled, “Don’t you have to follow Nancy around or something?”

Sonny burst out laughing as George’s face fell, “Yeah yeah, you can all laugh but the other day I swear I almost got a smile outta her.”

“Oh nice, an almost smile yeah that’s really great George.” Everyone laughed around the table.

By the time dinner was over and everyone had been ridiculed at least once, Elise was already half asleep. Harry volunteered to tuck her in, lifting her gently and carrying her upstairs to her bedroom. As the others stepped outside for a smoke break, Y/N took it upon herself to clear the empty plates and tidy up.

Before tidying, Y/N went upstairs to use the bathroom. As she climbed the steps, she noticed a partially open door. Intrigued by the humming coming from the room, she quietly peeked inside.

It was dark other than a small candle lit up in the corner of the room. Harry stood by the window with Elise in his arms. Her cheek was resting on his shoulder as her small hands fisted the sleeve of his shirt. His big hand rubbed up and down her tiny back as her eyes fluttered open and closed. She almost resembled a cherub resting on a fluffy cloud as Harry hummed her to sleep, his head turning an inch to press a soft kiss to the side of her head.

Y/N's eyes glistened with an emotion she couldn't quite place. Her heart felt like it was trying to leap out of her chest and walk into the room to join them. The longer she stayed fixed on the two siblings, alone in one space, it seemed as if they were the only two people existing, if only for a brief moment in time.

Not wanting to disturb their peace and quiet, Y/N carefully tiptoed away from them to give them the space they needed.

She stood at the kitchen sink and began filling it with water and soap. Her mind drifted to the image of Harry holding Elise almost as if he were her own father. Y/N’s heart had been hurting for Harry and his siblings ever since he had broken down to her on the hill. A part of her wondered if she was doing all this because she felt she had to fulfil some kind of duty to them but it never felt like work helping the Styles’ siblings, she just had a spot for them in her heart that was growing exponentially by the day.

Y/N felt that presence that had become so familiar to her, come up behind her as she cleaned the dishes. His arms snaked around her waist, swaying them slowly to the gentle bossa nova that played over the record player, “Dance with me,” He murmured, pulling her away from the sink.

Y/N laughed, spinning around in his arms and pressing her wet and soapy hands to his face. Harry’s face scrunches, “Have I told y’ I love y’ today?” He asked, nuzzling his cheek in her palm.

“Hmm,” Y/N pretended to think, “I don’t think so.”

“Well I do,” He says, “I love you bigger than the whole sky, Birdy.”

“I love you too,” Y/N replies because she always will no matter how angry she is or was with him.

“Enough to forgive me?” He tries but his face already says he knows the answer.

Y/N inches forward, her lips brushing his, “Almost,”

Harry grins, pulling her in closer, “This could be our life y’know.”

“What could?”

“All this,” He motions to the house, “We have our own house and make our own food. Everyone is safe and we’re happy. Maybe have a couple of kids-”

Y/N scoffs, “A couple?”

“Alright,” Harry chuckles, his head falling back, “One, five, eight or even zero, I don’t care I jus’ wanna be with you.”

“That sounds nice,” Y/N sighed, falling in love with the image she had painted in her mind, “And we’d live here?”

Harry kissed the top of her head, resting his cheek on it as they swayed, “We can live wherever y’ want Birdy, I go where you go.”

Y/N can’t help but pull his neck down to kiss her. Even though they weren’t exactly together, Y/N couldn’t help but kiss him when she wanted to, which was more often than it wasn’t. She’d never tire of the way his lips felt against hers, how she’d melt in his embrace and feel his heart beating against his chest.

“Just so we’re clear, this doesn’t mean we’re together,” Y/N mumbled against his lips.

“I know Birdy, I know.” He smiles, kissing her even harder.

Harry ends up helping Y/N clean the kitchen, drying the dishes while she washes them. It's a new experience for him, doing something domestic with the person he loves. It feels small and simple yet meant more to him than he could seem to understand.

“Since I’m tryin’ to be better, I gotta tell y’ something,” Harry pinches her sleeve, needing to touch her in some way at all times.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked, immediately beginning to worry.

“Oh no it’s nothing so bad, it’s just my Mama sent us a letter a few weeks ago and I think ‘m gonna go visit her without the boys.” He shrugs, “Jus’ to check in on her y’ know?”

Y/N knew Harry didn’t want to admit the truth about his visit. Despite the fact he never had a close relationship with his mother, he had always been her protector. Harry couldn’t stay away from his home no matter how hard he tried, too afraid that if he did, something detrimental would happen and he’d feel nothing but guilt for the rest of his life.

“On your own?” Y/N frowned, “Y’ don’t even want George to come with you?”

“If George goes he’ll jus’ get upset. I probably won’t even tell ‘em I’m going, I jus’ wanna make sure everything is okay. Maybe if I show m’ face she’ll stop sending so many letters every weekend.” His voice carried a mix of concern and weariness.

“Well okay,” Y/N paused for a brief second, “I mean I could come with you, maybe, i-if that’s something you’d want.”

Fear flashed in Harry’s eyes, “No,” He stated firmly, “I’m not letting you anywhere near that old bastard.”

Y/N knew he was referring to his father, “I won’t let you go alone, Harry. It’s either me or one of your brother’s but I will not let you go into that house by yourself.” She wasn’t going to lie and say that she wasn’t afraid for him. She’d never met his Father or truly knew the depths to which he had gone into causing such trauma for Harry but she wasn’t going to allow it to continue. “Please, let me come with you.”

Harry opened his mouth to immediately reject her offer but paused, considering her words carefully. He saw the determination in her eyes, the fierce loyalty she held for him, and it touched something deep within him. He also knew she was stubborn and wouldn’t let up over something like this no matter how much he refused.

After a moment of silence, he sighed, relenting. "Alright," he finally murmured, his voice laced with apprehension. "But promise me, Y/N, you'll stay close and keep your guard up. My old man... he's not an easy man to deal with. We’ll be in and out of tha’ house all in the same day.”

Y/N nodded solemnly, her resolve unwavering, “Thank you,” She said.

. . .

With the days that passed before Harry would return to his childhood town, his fear and anxiety seemed to grow. His nightmares had continued to worsen, each one of them had turned into one about Y/N. On the nights when Y/N slept in her own bed, he found himself walking through the dimmed streets in the middle of the night to sneak into her house and crawl under the covers with her. She’d whisper soft things into his ear, promising that everything he dreamt of was simply just that, but he struggled to believe her as he held her tightly in his arms until the morning arrived.

They took the two-hour train from the station to his home town in Wyoming on the day of the visit. Harry barely spoke a word as he held Y/N’s hand in his lap all the way there. They had decided on wearing somewhat fancy attire. Harry wore tailored trousers with a belt and a white shirt tucked into it, whilst Y/N settled on a new blouse she had yet to wear and a long skirt with kitten heels. They hadn’t spoken it aloud but part of them wanted to show without telling his parents just how well they were doing for themselves.

“Baby,” Harry whispered, nudging Y/N awake after she dozed off on his shoulder, “We’re here now,”

Y/N hummed, her eyes fluttering open to the window. Outside was the train station which was really just a raised platform by the train tracks with a small ticket booth nearby. The place was almost deserted, with only a few people stepping off as the train pulled in. Harry grabbed her purse and held Y/N’s hand as they exited the train and stepped onto the platform. It wasn’t long before the train was off again, leaving a bellow of smoke behind.

Glancing around, Y/N noticed how grey Harry’s hometown was. The buildings seemed weathered, and besides the train station, there wasn't much else to see—just a row of buildings housing a grocery store, a clothing shop, and a bank. Everything became increasingly sparse and lifeless the further out of town you ventured, and Harry’s house just so happened to be situated on the outskirts.

When they left the train station, Harry walked to a cab that was already parked outside with no other customers. He opened the door for Y/N to enter first, “Are you okay?” Y/N asked, sensing Harry’s discomfort.

“Y’ know there’s nothing more I wanna do than take y’ back to Offutt right?” His eyes were hard as he stared between the two front seats out of the windshield of the beaten-up vehicle.

"I know," Y/N's voice was quiet, a hint of uncertainty creeping in as she wondered if she had pushed too far by insisting on accompanying him. However, before she could dwell on her thoughts further, he picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to it, reassuring her without words.

Y/N tried not to react too shocked when the vehicle stopped far outside of the town they had entered. In front of them was a house that looked as though it was made out of planks of wood hammered together. There was a front porch with a rocking chair that was rotting away and a clothesline with white sheets blowing in the breeze.

“This is your home?” Y/N wondered, looping her arm with Harry’s when he came up beside her.

“It’s never been m’home,” He replied, lowly.

As they approached the front door, it creaked open before they could even knock. Standing behind it was a woman with the same green eyes Y/N had noticed in each of her children. Her hair was wispy and greying, with streaks of brunette that were a darker shade than Harry’s. She had heavy bags under her eyes and wrinkles all over her face. Her thin lips turned into a smile, her eyes watering as she opened her arms to the man beside Y/N, “My boy,” She croaked.

Harry stiffened when he felt her arms wrap around him, “Mom,” He grumbled.

The woman pulled away and then her eyes turned to Y/N, her smile drooping, “Who’s this?”

Harry opened his mouth to introduce herself but Y/N quickly stepped in, “I’m a friend of your son, we met on the Airbase.” She held her hand out.

Harry’s mother looked down at her hand and then back to Harry, “You’re bringing girls home now? Where are your brothers?”

Harry’s jaw tightened, “They’re not here.”

“And Elise?” She went on.

“She’s back home,”

“This is her home,” His mother argued, “And I’m her mother,”

“We won’t be staying here for long,” Harry said, moving past his mother and stepping into the house. Y/N tried to offer his mother a smile but she just frowned.

The inside of Harry’s childhood home was cold and empty, lacking any hint of life or sign of a whole family living here for well over ten years. Bits of furniture littered the house here and there, each individual piece looked battered and beaten.

“Are you staying for dinner at least Harry? I’ve been cooking all afternoon,” His mother walked to the small kitchen and started stirring a pot that was already cooking on the stove.

Harry looked down at Y/N, “We can stay,” She told him even though she knew he didn’t like the idea, she didn’t want to let his mother’s cooking go to waste.

“M taking Y/N to m’ room,” Harry grumbled, unwilling to wait for his mother to say anything.

Y/N followed him to a small room near the living room. It was no bigger than an average old pantry, containing only a small, single bed and a little chair and table tucked into the corner. Above the bed hung a mobile adorned with wooden planes painted blue, dangling gently. Y/N reached out and held one of the jagged wooden planes in her palm.

The corners of her lips turned upwards as she examined it, wondering if Harry’s love for planes stemmed from a young age. Turning round to face him, she fell back onto his bed and sighed, “Come lay with me,” Her hand dangled from the bed, her fingers reaching out to brush his.

Harry shook his head but fell onto the bed beside her, his feet dangling off the end. It was so small that Y/N had to practically lay on top of him, her chin resting on his chest as she looked up at him. She brushed some of his hair out of his face, “How are you feeling?” She checked in.

“Strange,” He murmurs, “Seeing you in this house made me realise how foreign this place is to me now. You’re home and this is just… Something I don’t want in my life anymore.”

Y/N’s gaze softens, “Your mom never told me her name, I don’t think she likes me very much.”

Harry’s hand slides up her back to play with the ends of her hair, “She doesn’t like anyone really but her name’s Debbie if y’ must know.”

“Debbie,” Y/N replies, her voice soft, “Hey, if things get uncomfortable we can go, just say the word.”

Harry felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude at her calming, understanding nature, “Thank you for being here.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” Y/N teased and Harry laughed, the sound echoing in the darkened room of his childhood.

Despite Debbie’s cold attitude towards her, Y/N still tried to make an effort by helping set the table for dinner. In the corner of her eye, she caught Harry fussing over his mother when he saw her hands were all scathed from being outside every day as she poured stew into each bowl. The image made her eyes glisten with tears that threatened to fall until she blinked them away.

As they placed each bowl of stew on the table, a thud sounded from outside and then the squeak of the hinges on the front door as it swung open. Y/N’s heart stopped as Harry paced towards her, moving her behind him as an old man stumbled in. She grabbed Harry’s sleeve, peeking past him to see a man with hazel eyes and balding, grey hair. His face was wrinkled and scruffy, his nose red but his face gaunt. His footsteps were heavy against the wooden floorboards, with every inhale of his breath he seemed to suck out the warmth from the house.

His eyes fell on Harry and then to Y/N, “Hello boy,” His voice sounded like gravel as he spoke.

“Old man,” Harry’s voice was something Y/N had never heard from him before. It felt like he was trying to control all of his anger whilst also trying not to show his fear. She squeezed his arm a little, hoping it would give him some reassurance.

“Nice to know you’ve remembered your family,” He sniffled, closing the door behind him.

“Y’ make it hard to forget,” Harry replied.

Debbie walked in between them like it was something she had done many times before whenever there was tension, “Jack, you’re just in time for dinner.” She was much too cheery but it felt hollow and insincere, “Harry’s friend is joining us from that camp they’re staying at.”

Jack glanced at Debbie with a flicker of annoyance before turning his attention back to Harry and Y/N. "Well, aren't we all just one big happy fuckin’ family," he muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Y/N felt the tension in the room thicken, a silent battle unfolding between the family members. She exchanged a knowing glance with Harry, silently urging him to stay composed.

Ignoring Jack's jab, Debbie gestured towards the dining table. "Come on, let's sit down and eat. I've made your favourite, Jack," she said.

Sitting at the table, Jack's presence felt heavy in the room. Y/N looked at Harry, silently showing her support. She knew dinner would be tricky, but she was committed to being there for Harry. She held his hand under the table and squeezed. Harry rubbed his thumb over the pulse point on her wrist in order to relax himself.

It was just dinner and they’d be going home straight afterwards. Home to his real family, where it was safe and he was most loved.

Debbie came out of the kitchen with two cans of beer and placed them in front of Jack before sitting beside him. He cleared his throat as he opened both cans, “Where are y’ brothers?”

“Not here,” Harry spoke, lowly.

“Don’t get funny with me boy, where are they?”

“I already told you.” Y/N jumped when Jack’s hand smacked down on the table, Harry’s hand squeezing her in assurance like this was a normal reaction to have.

“You’ve left y’ brothers at that camp and bought this random whore here?” He spat.

“Don’t call her that,” Harry said through gritted teeth.

“I don’t even know her fuckin’ name and y’ bought her into my house?”

Harry opened his mouth to reply but Y/N interrupted him, “My name is Y/N,” She said, her eyes hard, “And if that’s how you speak to someone you don’t know Mr Styles, I hate to see how you speak to those you do.”

Y/N could feel all eyes on her at the dinner table but she ignored them, acting as though what she said didn’t matter, as she tucked into the stew that was in front of her. “Next time you come back here,” Jack gruffed, “Y’ bring your brother’s. Much prefer them here anyway.”

This time it was Y/N’s turn to feel a bubble of anger rising within her, “Don’t want no more whores in my house, except y’ mother,” He chuckled, darkly, “She’s the only one allowed here.”

Harry shot up, his chair scraping against the floor, “How fuckin’ dare you,” He spat.

“Sit down,” His Father ordered, refusing to look up at him.

“Harry,” Debbie whispered, tugging on his hand to try and pull him down.

Reluctantly, Harry lowered himself to his seat. His jaw clenched as he stole a glance at Y/N, silently grateful for her unwavering support in the face of his family's hostility. He’d refuse to open his mouth for the rest of the dinner, in hopes it would speed things up and they could leave. He was filled with regret that he had allowed Y/N to come to this Hellscape, even more so for even considering it in the first place.

It fell silent- nothing but the scraping of cutlery against plates- until Y/N decided to speak, her anger too much to withhold any longer, “I’d appreciate it if you’d stop calling me that Mr Styles,” Harry must have gotten whiplash from how quickly his head whipped around to look at Y/N as she spoke.

“Say that again,” Jack replied, lowly.

“I said I would appreciate it if you’d stop calling me a whore, it’s rather distasteful.” Y/N dared to look up at him, meeting his lifeless eyes when she did. She felt Harry’s fingers squeeze hers but she refused to break eye contact with the only man who she had ever hated before even meeting him.

“Distasteful? What are y’ a slut from Preston?”

“No,” Y/N continued, “I’m not a whore or a slut from Preston and if you knew me or your own son, you’d know he wouldn’t dare bring someone with the likes of you home with him.”

Rage flashed in Jack’s eye, “Why you little-”

Harry rose to his feet as Jack raised his hand in the air, bracing himself for the impending blow. But before Jack could strike, Y/N intervened. "The fact that you assume so little about me, Mr. Styles, is your first mistake," Y/N declared, her voice unwavering. "Truthfully, I know people. Put a hand on me, and I'll go straight to my father. He's a doctor, you see—a very important one who knows a lot of important people. One of his patients just so happens to be the Governor. Do you know the Governor, Mrs. Styles?" Y/N directed a smile at the timid lady sitting opposite her, who blinked in response and quickly nodded her head.

"As much as I hate throwing around big names, sometimes it pays to know people more powerful than those who assume they have it all," Y/N continued, her gaze steady on Jack. "Wouldn't you say, Mr. Styles?"

Y/N stood up from the table as Jack’s jaw clenched, biting his tongue to stop from speaking. She grabbed Harry’s hand and intertwined their fingers, “To answer your question, your sons are at Offutt Air Base not camp. It’s their home where their older brother raised them along with that little girl you both abandoned. You can assume I’m a whore or a slut or whatever you think I am however much you like Mr Styles but I will not let you sit there and strip all of the love your son has shown to your children when you weren’t willing to give them anything.”

“Thank you for the dinner Mrs Styles but we’re leaving,” Y/N looked up at Harry who was already looking at her with nothing but pride all over his face, “I’m sorry Harry but I can’t stay here anymore.”

He nodded, following her out of the house but stopping when his father stood in front of him. Y/N gasped when Harry raised his arm and punched his father straight across the face. Jack groaned, cupping his nose as blood began to drip from it. Harry gripped his shirt in a fist, “Call my wife a whore again and I’ll fucking end you.” He spat, pushing him away.

Y/N and Harry ignored his mother as she fretted about his now injured Father, walking out of the house.

As soon as they stepped off the porch, Harry pulled Y/N to the side of the house where they were shielded from view and pressed her against the wall. His lips met hers eagerly, his hands cradling her face as her eyes fluttered shut. "You called me your wife," she breathed between kisses.

"Easy mistake," he replied quickly before his lips seeked hers once more.

Once they pulled away, their chests heaving and Harry’s lips tinged pink from Y/N’s lipstick, the biggest grin stretched across his face, his eyes sparkling more than she had ever seen before, “I didn’t think I could love you any more than I did.”

Y/N’s eyes watered, a mixture of love and the come down from the adrenaline that had fueled her in the last few moments all began to hit her at once, “You are everything to me,” He murmured, “Everything.”

"I love you too, Harry.” Y/N leapt into his arms, wrapping herself around him and refusing to let go.

After leaving the house, it felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted, as though a burdensome weed had been plucked from their lives. The air seemed lighter, and even the moon appeared to shine a bit brighter overhead. As they walked, Y/N couldn't help but notice the peace reflected in Harry's eyes whenever he glanced up at the sky.

Though it wasn't the end, it felt like the first step towards releasing the things that brought no good into Harry's life. With Harry's arm lazily draped over her shoulder and hers around his waist, they stumbled down the street, unable to find a taxi or any passing vehicles to take them back to the train station. To outsiders, they might have seemed like a drunken couple, but in reality, they were simply two people deeply in love and, for that moment, they felt truly free—and that feeling was even better.

They boarded the last train back to Offutt that night, and Harry was adamant about keeping Y/N close. Despite the empty carriage, he insisted she sit with him, to the point where she was practically sitting on his lap.

As Y/N grew tired, Harry allowed her to rest her head in his lap while she stretched out across the seats. He gently played with her hair and traced the contours of her face. "Can I show you something when we get back?" he whispered. Although exhausted, and longing to simply fall asleep with him in her bed, she nodded in agreement.

Y/N giggled as Harry skipped ahead, the smile on his face had yet to be replaced as he led her to the warehouses at the airbase. “C’mon slowpoke,” Harry called much too loudly for this time of night.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” Y/N shook her head, her cheeks aching from smiling so much.

Keys jangled in his back pocket as he pulled out a chain that had too many keys for Y/N to count dangling from it. He plucked one out and put it into the padlock that was keeping a lock on the large, metal doors to one of the hangars where the planes were kept.

The doors clanked open as Harry pulled them apart enough for them to walk through. The light from the moon slipped through the gap, creating a dim light within the hangar. Harry switched on the lights in the panel on the side and the whole room lit up. Y/N followed Harry as he took her to the back of the warehouse where some of the planes which needed fixing up were kept.

He stopped in front of a single-engine propellor aeroplane, painted blue with white stripes. It had a cockpit with a glass canopy and seated two people inside. Y/N frowned, “Is this what you wanted to show me?” Living on an airbase, she’d obviously seen plenty of planes that were different variations of the one in front of her so she was unsure what she was meant to be looking at that had got Harry so excited.

Harry rolled his eyes playfully. He came up behind her and placed both his hands over her eyes to cover them. She stumbled as he nudged her forwards towards the side of the plane, “We’ve been working on this for a while and me and the boys have been struggling to give it a name. It was only until I met you that I realised what the perfect name for it was.” Harry removed his hands from her eyes, Y/N’s eyes squinting to adjust to the light until they focused on a word written in yellow on the side of the plane.

Birdy.

Y/N’s lips parted, walking up to touch the yellow font to see if it was real. She turned on her heel, eyes watering, “You named a plane after me?”

Harry bit back a grin, eyes twinkling, “Of course I did,” He whispered, “Need you with me all the time, now I can have you in the air too.”

“Oh Harry,” She sobbed, wrapping her arms around his neck, “It’s wonderful,”

“Yeah? Y’ like it darling?” He kissed the top of her head.

“I love it,” She sighed, her eyes darting to the cockpit, “Can we sit in it?”

“Course,” Harry helped her up the little ladder and into the cockpit, before sitting in the spot next to her. “The electrics aren’t on so if y’ touch anything it won’t move.” Y/N’s hands pressed some of the buttons, still unable to believe she had a plane named after her.

Harry smiled watching her and then leaned in to kiss her. Y/N ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. Their lips met in a passionate kiss, and Harry deepened it, his tongue sliding into her mouth and his teeth nipping at her bottom lip. “Harry,” Y/N breathed, her eyes fluttering shut as he began to kiss down her neck.

“This is for you baby. There ain’t nobody else for me,” He whispered, “and I don’t want anybody else.”

His fingers brushed down the skin of her arms as her head rolled to the side. He kissed the base of the column of her neck, “You love me?” He asks, voice raspy.

“I do,” Y/N hums, her hands all over his clothed torso gripping the fabric in tight fists.

“How much,” Y/N gasped as his fingers played with the buttons of her blouse before he slowly undid the first one. He pressed his lips to her collarbones as he continued on the next button.

Y/N’s hands fell to the buckle of his belt, tugging on the metal to pull him closer. With every inch of skin that was revealed, Harry would place a small kiss there like he was worshipping every inch. Y/N could feel his breath fan over the top of her breasts as he got to the middle button, “C’mon baby, how much?” He taunted.

His hand slid up her back under her shirt to the clasp of her bra, “Tell me how much y’ love me and I’ll make y’ feel good hmm? Is that what y’ want birdy?”

Y/N nodded, “So much Harry, so much.”

“What?” Harry grinned, “Y’ love me so much or y’ want me so much?”

“Both,” Y/N gasped, “Please,”

Harry’s lips mould with hers as he uses both hands to remove her blouse, the buttons flying everywhere. Y/N’s hands fumble to remove his belt as Harry tugs his own shirt off hurriedly. His hands are hot against her body as he unclips the clasp of her bra, “So beautiful,” He says, in awe.

Y/N’s cheeks heat at the compliment. His hand splays across her bag, his pinky finger digging into the hem of her skirt as he continues to kiss her deeply. “Harry, I-” Her face feels hot as she stops herself, feeling too embarrassed to ask the question.

“What is it darling?” He cups her cheek in his hand, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone.

She looks up at him, her eyes round and full of lust, she cups the bulge of his dick through his trousers in her hand, “Please?” She whines.

“Y’ wanna suck on m’ cock sweet girl?” He smirks, seeing her get all flustered as she nods quickly. She’s already trying to unbuckle his belt before he has time to say anything else. Her eyes widened when his cock springs out of his boxers, she still couldn’t get over how big he was as she wrapped two hands around the thick girth and pumped up and down.

Harry groaned, feeling her hands wrapped around him. She pulled away to sit up on her knees in the seat, tucking her hair behind her ears and bending forward. Harry’s head falls back against the headrest as she puts one hand at the base of his cock and kisses the tip. “So big,” She murmurs.

“Gonna take it in y’ pretty mouth baby?” Harry taunts in a playful tone.

Y/N sucks on the tip, her eyes closing as she tastes him for the first time. Gradually she takes him deeper, inch by inch, her tongue sliding against the thick vein of his cock as she does. “Good girl,” Harry praises her, grabbing her hair and holding it in a fist.

She stops when the tip hits the back of her throat, using her hand to jerk off what she couldn’t take in her mouth. Harry groans when Y/N gags and pulls away to catch her breath, “Careful baby,” He squeezes her cheeks together and forces her to look at him. Seeing her red, glossy lips and hazy eyes, drool falling from the corner of her mouth from how big he was, almost made him cum right there. He wiped his thumb over her chin and kissed her, “Doing so good my girl,” He murmured against her lips.

As she goes back to mouthing at his cock, he can’t help but run a hand down her back and squeeze her ass beneath her skirt. Y/N makes a sound that sends vibrations down his cock and he knew she’d have to stop before he came down her throat, “Need to be inside y’ baby,' ' Harry spoke.

Y/N’s pops him out of her mouth, “Are y’ gonna fuck me now?” Her big doe eyes look up at him. She almost looked innocent if it weren’t for his cock in her fist.

“Yeah darling girl, M gonna love on y’ now.” He tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear.

Y/N's hands tangled in his curls as she adjusted herself to lay back on the seats. Harry’s lips parted as he looked down at her, her chest heaving and her nipples pebbling under his gaze. He ran a hand through his hair, the glass canopy around them fogging up with their breaths.

Harry swallowed, moving on top of her and holding himself up with his hands pressed into the plush seat beneath. Y/N’s legs parted for him to rest between them, her hands going to his back, fingers digging into the hard muscle.

“Are y’ okay?” Harry murmured, brushing some of the hair from her face.

Y/N smiled, “I’m fine,”

Y/N could feel his hardened length on the inside of her thigh as he pulled her skirt up and revealed her white panties. Harry tutted, “Did sucking me off make y’ this wet baby?” He asked, his fingers moving her panties to the side to reveal her dripping cunt.

Harry’s fingers dipped between her folds, brushing over her clit to collect some of her wetness before smearing it all over her pussy. His hand travelled down, smearing her juices over the tip of his cock before he lined himself up with her.

“Y’know, I don’t think I ever apologised properly for what I did that day,” He pressed open mouthed kisses a long her jawline as the tip of his cock teased her entrance, “What do y’ say darling girl? Y’gonna let me be good and fuck my apology into you?”

Y/N’s hips bucked into him, “Mhmm,”

Looping her arms around his neck, Y/N’s lips parted as Harry eased himself into her. She was suddenly reminded of just how big he was as he moved further and further inside of her until he bottomed out and she could feel every inch of him as she clamped around him, “S’ good,” She hummed, her eyes fluttering open and closed.

“Yeah?” Harry chuckled, kissing her quickly, “M nice and snug? Can y’ feel me in y’ baby?”

Y/N nodded, grabbing his hand and spreading out his fingers to press them against her tummy, “Feel you here,” She sighed.

Harry kissed her forehead, “Y’ like that?”

“The best,” She smiled, lazily.

“Made just f’ me that’s why,” Harry smirked.

Slowly, Harry began to slide in and out of her, taking his time knowing this moment was different to their first time. It was softer- gentle even. Y/N whines, feeling all of him against the walls of her pussy. Harry groans when he sees her stomach bulge when he moves back in her - a sight he could never overcome no matter how hard he tried.

“Y’ fucking perfect Y/N. Feels so good.” Harry’s voice wavered as he felt himself get lost in the feeling of her.

As his hips moved faster, the closer he was to his release. He held her hips, glancing down to see his cock moving in and out of her. He feels her pussy clenching tightly around him, signifying she was close to her release too.

“Am I making my girl feel good? Hmmm?” He presses his nose against her cheek as her head falls to the side. “M’ best girl, lovin’ me the way you do, how’d I get so lucky?” Y/N couldn’t seem to find the words to reply, her body writhing beneath him.

Harry pressed his hand down on her tummy, the added pressure making her groan, “Y’ gonna have my babies in there one day?”

“Yes,” Y/N gasps as he fucks her harder.

“Yeah? Gonna have all my kids and be a pretty little housewife?” Y/N whimpers, her hands scratching down his back. “I love y’ so much.” He whispers.

“Love you,” Y/N slurred.

Harry’s hand begins to rub at her clit, the added sense of pleasure filling her entire body with heat that only continued to build the more he pumped his heavy dick inside of her. Y/N feverishly craned her neck to kiss him, needing that extra physical touch.

“Y’ gonna let me cum in you, darling girl?” Harry murmured, his voice shaking.

“Please cum in me Harry,” Y/N’s eyes blurred as the bubble of heat burst in her belly.

With a final thrust, Harry released a heavy groan as his cock filled her insides with his cum. Y/N’s back arched into him as her breath caught in her throat, her eyes rolling back when she came around him at the same time.

Harry fell on top of Y/N, his sweaty forehead against her chest. She lazily moved her hand to his hair, running her fingers through his soft curls. Harry puckered his lips to press a kiss right where her heart was beating erratically.

A silence fell around them as they tried to catch their breaths, “Have y’ forgiven me yet?” Harry murmured, his hands tracing patterns on her hip.

"I think I forgave you ages ago; I just wanted to punish you a little," Y/N admitted, a truth she had realised for a while now.

"I deserved it," Harry agreed.

"You did," Y/N acknowledged.

“But I’ll be better. For you, I’ll be anything but I’ll always try to be better,” He looked up.

Y/N cupped his face, “I don’t need you to be anything but you.”

Harry kissed her palm, “Thank you… For it all.”

. . .

“Are you nervous?” Patsy asked as the girls sat on top of the hill on a picnic blanket.

“A little,” Y/N lied, she had hardly been able to sit still since this morning.

“Hey,” Molly smoked a cigarette, “These boys have done this plenty of times, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“I just hope it all goes well, they’ve been working months on this.” Y/N’s eyes darted around to see if she could spot him.

Elise sat on the picnic blanket in a diaper, chewing on her fingers and making noises. Molly swooped her up in her arms as she stood, “What do you think Elise? Will your brothers actually do something smart?” Molly cooed.

Patsy hit her shoulder lightly, “Don’t be so mean,”

Y/N’s ears pricked as she heard the sound of an engine in the distance. She removed her sunglasses, trying to see where the source of the sound was coming from. “Look!” Patsy pointed towards the thing moving in the blue sky.

Y/N’s caught sight of the blue plane flying in the air, if she squinted enough she could see the yellow spelling of her nickname on the side, “He’s there!” Y/N laughed in disbelief, “He’s there!”

The plane flew closer and Y/N could make out Harry sitting in the cockpit with George beside him. All the girls waved, Elise giggling as they jumped up and down. Y/N took her hat off and started waving it around to try and catch Harry’s attention.

His head turned and a huge grin spread across his face as he saw her wearing a red dress just like she had told him she would after he told her they’d be flight testing the plane again and he wanted her to be there to watch.

“Will you be able to see me on the ground?” Y/N asked as she sat atop his worktop whilst he worked on the plane, her legs swinging backwards and forwards.

“It depends on how close y’ are. I can’t really see that well when ‘m flying high up.” He tells her.

“Hmm,” Y/N thinks, “What if I wear something colourful? Will y’ be able to see me then?”

Harry bites back a smile, “Maybe,” He shrugs, coming up to stand between her legs. He leans forward to kiss her, “Why? Y’ planning on wearing something special for me Birdy?”

Y/N bites her lip, her eyes sparkling, “Possibly.”

“C’mon,” Patsy snatched the blanket off the grass, “They’re going to land soon,”

The girls headed back to the runway where the plane would land. They could already see Sonny looking through his bicolours. Patsy waved, running towards him and falling into his arms. “Did y’ see?” He looked down at her, happiness all over his face.

“It’s great baby,” Patsy kissed him.

Y/N watched as the plane descended, growing bigger against the sky. With a rumble, the wheels made contact with the ground, the plane gradually slowing down as it ran down the runway. Everyone ran towards the plane as Harry lifted the glass chamber and hopped out with George coming round the other side.

Cheers sounded through the air from everybody. Harry’s eyes immediately met Y/N’s, his hands reaching out to catch her in his arms. She leapt into his embrace, moulding her lips against his, “That was incredible!” She squealed when they pulled away.

“Yeah?” Harry was trying to remain calm but she could tell he was proud of what he and his brothers had achieved today, “Y’ proud of me?”

“So unbelievably proud,” Y/N spoke, her eyes radiating the truth in her words.

“Ha, Ha!” Elise squealed for her brother.

Harry’s smile widened into a grin as Molly placed Elise into his arms, “Did you see that Elise?” He kissed her chubby cheek, “Did y’ see your brother flying?”

Elise just babbled in response.

Y/N wrapped her arms around Harry and Elise, joining in the embrace. At that moment, surrounded by the people he cared about most, Harry knew that he was exactly where he was meant to be. With a contented smile, he squeezed Y/N's hand, silently thanking her for always believing in him.

“Hey have any of you seen-” George glanced around before his eyes landed on someone in the distance, “There she is,” He murmured to himself.

Everyone watched as he ran towards a woman standing by the entrance of the warehouse, “Is that Nancy?” Molly held a hand over her eyes to block the sun so she could get a better look at them.

“Hey, I think it is,” Patsy agreed, her eyebrows furrowing.

Y/N looked up at Harry who just shrugged.

. . .

The same evening, the Styles’ house was filled to the brim with people who had come over for their house party, celebrating the success of today. Elise was staying at a family’s house since the party would most definitely be going on well into the night.

Y/N observed Harry from across the room as he engaged in conversation with his pilot friends as she sipped on a cocktail Patsy had given her. She had no idea what was in it but she drank it anyway, knowing it was probably better not to ask. Every so often, their eyes would meet, and a smile would pass between them as they communicated in a language only they knew.

She noticed his lips were still tinged red from the lipstick she had kissed him with as they got ready for the house party. Y/N had offered to wipe it away for him but he liked the idea of people knowing he had been kissing you just by looking at the colour of his lips and yours.

Y/N’s heart felt so at peace as she glanced around the room and spotted each member of her found family. Her life had been so grey and mundane until she came to Offutt where everything changed and love had given her a whole new palette of colours.

It had been hard and full of ups and downs but it was worth it, every second of time was worth it.

She felt a presence come up beside her and turned expecting to see Molly or Patsy but was surprised to see Nancy standing there, leaning against the wall next to her. “It’s funny, I’ve been here longer than you and I don’t think I’ve seen anyone look at somebody the way Harry looks at you.”

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed, “Thank you? I’m not-”

“Listen,” Nancy turned to face her, “I’m sorry.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, “W-what?”

“Please don’t make me say it again,” Nancy turned away again, “I was a bitch and I liked Harry but not for the same reasons you do. I should have stood up for you and him the night of the bonfire when that asshole came and spoke to you but once again I was a bitch and quite honestly I probably still am a bitch but I’ve met someone who I really like and I’m trying to be better.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, “Nancy-”

“I totally get it if you hate me and I don’t expect to be friends with you but George is Harry’s brother so we’re probably going to be seeing more of each other and-”

“Nancy,” Y/N interrupted her rambling, “It’s okay,”

Nancy’s shoulders dropped, “Really? You don’t hate me?”

“I’ve never hated you, I just haven’t particularly liked you but I think that could change if we truly got to know each other.” Y/N shrugged.

Nancy's eyes widened with surprise, hope flickering in them. "You mean that?" she asked, her voice tentative.

Y/N nodded, offering a small smile. “If you're George’s sister then one day we might be sister-in-laws and that would make things awfully strange if we didn’t get on, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Nancy huffed, “Those boys sure do need a break from family drama. I mean there’s some serious daddy issues in that family.”

Y/N laughed, it was the first thing they both had ever agreed on, “You can say that again.”

Nancy's face lit up with relief and gratitude. "Thank you," she breathed, her voice trembling with emotion, “I-I’ve never been good at having friends and I truly am sorry for being so horrible. If it helps, I guess you managed to prove me wrong, I think I even proved myself wrong with the way things are now.”

Y/N reached out and squeezed Nancy's hand reassuringly, “It’s all okay.”

Nancy and Y/N spoke for a little longer. Giggling as they compared their boyfriend’s habits with one another until George came over and whisked Nancy away.

A hand snaked around Y/N’s waist, her gaze falling on those ring-clad fingers. She turned to look up at those beautiful, green eyes, “Hi Harry,”

“Hi Birdy,” He whispered, his eyes darting from her eyes to her lips and then back up again. “Y making friends?”

“I’m trying,” She grinned.

“Good to know,” He smirked and then held out his hand, sliding his fingers to thread with hers, “Y wanna dance with me?”

“M not very good you know,” She had told him plenty of times before.

“S just swaying,” He repeated the words he said to her the first time they danced together.

Y/N laughed softly as Harry pulled her closer, their bodies swaying gently to the smooth jazz music filling the room. She rested her head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. With a contented sigh, Y/N relaxed into his embrace, letting the music wash over them. In that moment, as they moved together, there was nowhere else she'd rather be than in the arms of the pilot she pictured spending the rest of her life with.

"What are you thinking in there?" Harry tapped the side of her head with the pad of his finger.

Y/N hummed, "I'm just happy,"

"Yeah? You are?"

"Yeah," Y/N sighed, resting her head against his heart, “I love you, Harry, so much,” Y/N murmured.

“I love you too Birdy,” Harry leaned down to brush his lips with hers, “Bigger than the whole sky.”

taglist:

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princessbrunette · 1 year ago

Note

“you still mad at me?” while balls deep with rafe 😵‍💫😵‍💫.

GODDDD U ATE W THIS PROMPT 😩 like my jaw dropped

rafe was always doing this.

he’d make empty promises, plans even — talk to you all sweet with a warm hand on your back whispering suggestion of “that was the last time i’m getting involved with all that crazy shit, baby. i swear. s’just me you n’me now, you hear me?” and you being the fool, believed him.

until of course you’re catching him pulling back up to the drive on his motorcycle, yanking his helmet off with that ill-tempered expression of his that just tells you enough that somethings gone on, you know, the one where his teeth are grit, lips pressed together like they’d been sewn shut. that’s not even where it ends, because often times barry is close behind, pulling up alone side so they can debrief loudly in the living room, stinking up the place with pot. even if you were mad, you know the rules. no coming down the stairs when barry’s over.

you almost had started to enjoy the feeling of sulking when rafe would eventually skulk up the stairs after barry had left, shoulders heavy and ready to grovel. naturally, you put up quite the fight — and what might surprise you is that rafe let’s you mouth off, even if he knows you don’t understand the importance of his situation and likely never will.

“again and again rafe! how many times am i gonna have to put up with you just running off to god knows where when you promise me you’re not doing all that anymore! you were supposed to be with me today!” you nearly stomp your foot, that last sentence coming out childishly like an abandoned middle child. he nods, jaw ticking as he stares at the ground scratching his forehead, waiting for his lashing to end. once the tears start to roll, that’s his queue. like clockwork.

“come on, hey. y’know i love you, sweetheart. i’m sorry, okay?” he rushes to your side, sliding right up next to you on the bed and thumbing at the first batch of tears on your cheek, his hand so large it cups your skull at the same time. you want to preen into his touch, so elated with any affection after a day of missing him, worrying about him — but you don’t, because you’re still mad. be strong, you tell yourself.

you’re weak. you hate yourself.

not even 10 minutes of your sobbing and complaining later and he’s got your legs over his broad shoulders, balls slapping lewdly against you whilst he all but pumps you. his hands that are on your waist, using you as leverage reposition themselves so that he’s holding himself up over you more. a large hand wraps gently around your ankle as he does so, making sure your leg doesn’t slide off the strong slopes of his shoulder.

squeals and more tears are being punched out of you with each thrust, but he can see you physically relaxing, he can see you reaching out to him with a wobbling bottom lip so that you can hold onto his arms like you always do when he fucks you. it’s neutralising you.

“fuck, that’s m’girl.” he pants, mouth gaping at the way your pussy flutters around him. you’re so reactive to his voice he can’t believe it, never having met anyone who is so enamoured with everything he does. shit, maybe he should treat you better after all. he keeps talking, because he thinks you deserve to cum a whole bunch tonight, after putting up with all his shit. having a girlfriends made him gone all soft.

“you still mad at me?” he tilts his head, and you’re not sure if it’s intended to be mean or mocking, because it certainly doesn’t come out that way — his voice kind and eyes kinder, rolling the well kept muscles in his core to grind his cock against that spongey spot deep within. you don’t answer his question, clinging onto that last crumb of dignity and restraint. you pout through your whimpers, turning your head a little. he takes that opportunity to burrow down into your neck, his open mouth panting against your tepid skin as he speaks lowly again. “dont be mad at me baby. i’m only tryna look after my girl, you want that right?”

“mhm…” you reply before you permit yourself.

he slides his arms under you now, letting your legs down from his shoulders to hook around his waist instead. he’s holding your body close to his as he grinds, his pelvis smushed against your clit, making your thighs tremble and suddenly you’re so god damn close it hurts and you’ll do anything to cum.

“so good to me, baby.” he sighs and you cry out, arching your body harder to his. “i know. let it out. i’m so bad to you sweetheart s’the least i can do.” he mutters self pityingly before letting out a groan, cock pulsing inside you. you remember thinking about how right he was about that when you fell over the edge into a white hot orgasm.

#anon #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader

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dyaz-stories · 7 months ago

Text

don't get cut on my edges || gojo satoru x reader

synopsis: Gojo is easily bored, you're the latest enigma that's caught his interest. He sets off in trying to figure you out. Lucky for him, you're coming on the week-end trip Shoko's planned for the week-end.

“Was I off script?”

You look up at him.

“You’re always off script.”

word count: 5.4k

genre: college!AU, fluff, slice of life

cw: unresolved sexual and romantic tension, reader has anxiety and is socially awkward, she/her is used for the reader, a little suggestive, overall very sweet and fluffy

a/n: this was fun to write! any feedback is appreciated, and i hope you enjoy my writing here :)

soundtrack

Gojo knows that people talk, knows that they talk shit, knows that there isn’t a soul on campus that doesn’t have an opinion on him. He can tell that eyes follow him around when he walks into a room, that his presence is enough to shift the atmosphere at a gathering, that some people roll their eyes at him while others try their best to catch his attention. It’s a lot to take in, for just one person.

Fortunately, he’s proved to be incredibly gifted in the art of not giving a fuck.

Then again, he’s incredibly gifted in most areas of life. Truth be told, he thinks people aren’t giving him enough credit for that. Sure, they tend to know that he’s a physics major, but that’s just tangential to what they know about the rest of him. He’s not just kinda good at physics, not some dude that goes to college mostly for the parties and then get a meaningless job at daddy’s company, no, he’s the fucking best, and he works fucking hard to be able to claim that title.

But that doesn’t really fit in with the rest of him, and at the end of the day, who cares? He certainly doesn’t.

With all that, it’s not statistically unlikely for him to catch people talking about him.

Well, he’d have to conduct a detailed study to calculate the exact odds, but with how much alcohol is in his blood at this very moment, it makes sense to him that it would happen.

Still, for people to be talking about him at a party he is at, in front of an open window, you’d think they would have some sense of shame. Not that he has any room to talk, because shame is not part of his vocabulary, but like. Come on.

“Gojo really can’t take not being in the spotlight for more than ten seconds, huh?”

That voice, he’s quick to identify, even if he can’t see her face from where’s he’s standing under the porch, belongs to Mei Mei. Aw. Bummer. They’d spent quite a lot of time around each other, have friends in common, slept— Wait, have they slept together? He can’t say for sure anymore. It seems to have slipped from his mind. Oops. Maybe that’s why he’s getting that treatment. Maybe he deserves it.

There’s a scoff, and really, the acoustic of this place are impressive. It feels like he’s straight in the room with those people.

“What else do you expect from someone who’s always had everything served to him on a silver platter?”

And that would be Noritoshi Kamo. Man. That was one of the few kids in the families his parents insisted on frequenting. They used to be sat next to each other at the kiddie table while the adults talked about the important stuff. They never had much in common — not then, not now. And, after all, maybe Noritoshi has a point, after all. His mother wasn’t a mistress, wasn’t turned into an outcast, and he’s never had to pretend he didn’t hear the loud whispers that tarnished her name. Yeah. Sounds like these two aren’t saying anything new after all. Not that he’s gonna change, y’know, but he already knows who he is, and he is all that.

“That seems like a very mean thing to say about a friend,” a quiet voice comments.

The world freezes.

A silhouette appears to go along with the voice, then a blurry face, then the picture becomes clearer. A figure sitting next to Shoko, giving him sweet, polite smiles when he approaches. Not chatty, kinda shy, pretty cute. Would get quiet when he was near, though, so he hadn’t paid a ton of attention. He’s used to giving it to people who asked for it, who wanted it.

You’d never asked.

But you’re… not wrong. He’s not sure why he hadn’t picked up on it himself. It is a mean thing to say.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Mei Mei protests, “I love Gojo, but you know I’m right about this.”

“Yeah, and I’ve known him my whole life,” Kamo adds. “It’s just a fact, we’re not talking shit.”

There’s a silence. Gojo’s invested now.

“I don’t know him that well,” you say. “Like I said. It’s just a mean thing to say about someone you hang out with every day.”

“Come on, don’t act like—”

“I think I’m going to go, actually,” you say. “This feels super shitty.”

“What the fuck was that?” Mei Mei laughs, just a second later — presumably after you’ve left the room.

“She wants to fuck him, I guess,” Kamo says.

Well, you’re making one hell of a headway then, because he’d do you so hard after that.

When he walks back in, you’re chatting with Shoko. You give him your usual, close-lipped smile, don’t quite make eye-contact. If you’re trying to get in his pants, you have a very original way of getting it done.

“Who was your friend again?” he asks Shoko, later that night. She answers without looking up from her phone.

“She doesn’t talk much when there are new people around,” she warns him. “Leave her alone.”

“When have I ever bothered anyone—”

She reaches to smack the back of his head, misses and gets the nape of his neck — that’s the downside about being so tall, there’s just a lot of him to hit.

“Don’t make her uncomfortable. That’s all I’m asking.”

He wasn’t planning on that. He’s just— curious. Intrigued.

It’s unlikely to last, though. He’s been known to get bored easily.

You’re already in the car when he gets in. Well, okay, when he gets shoved inside by Todo, despite his protests that his legs are too long for the backseat. You’ve squeezed yourself in the middle seat, with Shoko on one side, and him on the other now. There’s a bag of snacks in your lap, yet you still try to shift yourself to give him a little more room. It doesn’t help at all, but in your defense, the only thing that could help would be to buy a new car.

“Is everyone ready?” Suguru asks as he adjusts the rearview mirror.

“Sure,” Shoko says.

“Let’s go!” Todo shouts.

“No,” Gojo whines.

“Yeah,” you say, completely drowned out under the rest.

“Good,” Suguru hums as he starts the engine.

Gojo pouts, but he doesn’t insist. Well, he doesn’t make any more of a scene than he already has. Truth be told, he could have taken Todo — dude might be all brute force, but Gojo has brains and brawns, thank you very much.

But he’s curious, still, and he hasn’t been given enough information to quite satiate his curiosity. Everything he’s gathered about you says that you mind your business and keep to your corner.

So why did you say that to Mei Mei and Kamo? It makes no sense, but Gojo’s never met an equation he couldn’t solve.

That’s an overstatement. Obviously there are equations he can’t solve. Yet. He’s sure he’d figure it out eventually. Like he’ll figure you out. See? That metaphor does make sense.

Suguru’s music is playing in the car. The sun is still low in the sky, the day is quickly getting warmer, and the phone says that they’ll be at the beach in two hours.

Satoru closes his eyes. Fun fact about him? He can fall asleep anywhere he wants to.

He wakes up with his face smooshed against the window, a hand tapping his shoulder carefully.

“We’re here,” you say, giving him a smile and then shuffling to leave the car from the other side.

Todo’s already running towards the beach, while Suguru and Shoko are getting the bags out of the trunk. Somehow, Shoko manages to sling a bag over his shoulder, but he takes off before she can stuff the cool box containing all the drinks in his arms.

He then lies to Todo to get him back to the car, so that he can carry the damn thing. Shoko better thank him later for that.

He catches up with you, and he sees your eyes widen a little when he approaches, as you visibly search for something to say. He can’t resist the temptation to shoot you a grin. There’s a light breeze in the air, but he won’t be fooled that easily — with his skin, he’s going to need an insane amount of sunscreen, if he wants to survive the day. Which makes him think, actually—

“Wanna help me apply sunscreen?” he asks.

“Huh?” you say.

He leans towards you, looks into your eyes from over his sunglasses. You appear to be fully frozen in place, only swallowing once as he gets closer. His grin gets wider as he takes in all of you, and he’s once more fascinated by the idea that you had been able to say something to Mei Mei and Kamo but you can barely face him.

His gaze drops to your parted lips.

Then the bottle of sunscreen smashes against his cheek with impressive precision.

“Todo can help you put that on!” Shoko offers as Suguru starts setting up a parasol. “Right, Todo?”

“Of course I will, my brother,” Todo say as he appears, but by then, Satoru has already started running for his life.

“Just kick him in the balls if he pulls something like that again,” Shoko says.

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” you reply, shaking your head in mild horror. “I just— I don’t— know— how to react sometimes. But he doesn’t bother me.”

That statement has her raising an eyebrow at you, filled with doubt, but she doesn’t insist.

“Play nice,” she does warn Satoru once more, later on. “Don’t push it too much.”

“Aw, Shoko, are you saying you wouldn’t approve of me?”

“Do whatever you want to,” she replies, rolling her eyes, “but give her more space. She’s not used to you being… you.”

Satoru rests his chin on his knee. He’s taking refuge under the parasol for now, and you’re already in the waves with Todo and Suguru. You seem comfortable with Todo, laughing at something he said, less so with Suguru. It all looks like a lot of work, all to satiate his curiosity. He’s all about committing to the bit but— he doesn’t know about that one.

This, too, all this thinking and questioning, is a lot of work, though, so he ends up shrugging it off.

“Are we getting in or what?”

“Absolutely not. No— Gojo— Don’t you fucking dare— Gojo!”

Shoko’s full-on shrieking by the time he throws her in the water. You burst out laughing. She comes out screaming for revenge, and Gojo starts scampering around to try and avoid her.

The sun is high in the sky, there’s a light breeze.

The time is good.

“Satoru!” Suguru calls when the watch on his wrist starts beeping, “it’s been two hours!”

It takes a second for the information to reach his brain, but the second he understands it, Gojo’s sprinting back towards the parasol at full speed. You look up, surprised, from the towel on which you’re lying with a book. Shoko doesn’t even bother with lifting an eyelid to see what’s going on.

“You okay?” you ask.

Ah, so she does speak.

“Yeah,” Gojo says, ruffling through a bag. “Just need to reapply some sunscreen. I’m not trying to look like a lobster.”

“Oh,” you say, “so, did you want me to help you with that?”

His fingers finally close around the bottle, and he stills to look at you. Shit. He’s curious again. Shoko’s words are swirling around in his mind, though, and he has no interest in forcing your hand.

“You didn’t look like you wanted to do that,” he says with uncharacteristic caution.

You roll your lips together, glance away from him, and your hand curls into a fist in the sand.

“No, it’s just— Um, I’m sorry about earlier. You— caught me off guard, I guess. I couldn’t figure out what to answer.”

“I usually just go with whatever appears through my head first,” he shrugs as he comes to crouch in front of you — you in the sun, him in the shade.

You laugh softly, but you avert your eyes, focusing on the sand as you trace patterns in it.

“Yeah, I think that’s the preferred method, but it— doesn’t— really work for me. So I have— I have a script, kind of, for interactions.”

“And I was off script?”

You glance back up at him.

“You’re always off script.”

For a moment, he just looks into your eyes, and you look back without any of that earlier nervousness. Then you shrink back into yourself, and the smile that so rarely leaves your lips reappears, like a shield that comes back up.

“Sorry. I know— I know how silly this sounds. I also wish I didn’t feel the need to do that, I just, um—”

“All good,” he replies with a shrug. “Sure. Help me with that.”

He throws you the bottle and you miss it, and he can feel you eyerolling at his back without needing to turn around, but when he shoots you a grin from over his shoulder, he can see how your breath catches in your throat.

Softly, your hand goes over his back, your touch gentle and cautious. It feels quite nice, actually, especially when your nails brush over his skin.

“It’s not too cold?” you ask.

“All good,” he repeats.

Shit. He’s invested again.

“Okay, we have the tickets, we have the water bottles, we have the hats, we have flat shoes, we have Gojo, we have the car keys—”

“I’m sorry, why was I just in the middle of a list of belongings?”

“We have cellphones and portable batteries… I think we’re good,” Shoko concludes, fully ignoring him.

“You don’t think we’re just a touch overprepared?” Suguru asks.

“You can never overprepare, my brother,” Todo says, grabbing his shoulder firmly. “If you want to triumph in the face of adversity, you need to know everything about the enemy.”

Suguru opens his mouth, closes it again. He knows how to pick his battles.

Gojo doesn’t.

“We’re going to a festival, not trying to breech the Pentagon,” he deadpans, and then, from the corner of his eye, he tries to see if you’re laughing. He delights in how you lower your head and try to keep it discreet.

“You never know what—”

“If I have to hear a second more of this nonsense, I swear to God I’ll kill someone here,” Shoko announces cheerfully. “Let’s move.”

Finally, after a good fifteen minutes by the door of the Airbnb you’ve all spent the night in, you start moving.

The good news is that you don’t have to get in the car, in the smothering heat, to get on the overcrowded streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. The bad news is that you have to walk there, in the smothering heat, near the streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. Suguru’s in charge of the map, which everyone seems happy with. Gojo had offered to do it, too, and there’s not a shred of doubt that he’d be able to read it competently, but Shoko had insisted the risk of him taking everyone to the wrong place ‘just because it would be funny’ was too high.

She’d been right but like, that was still rude.

The march in the heat and the waiting in line, while painful and unpleasant, as Gojo makes sure everyone around him is well aware of, go pretty smooth. Everything is planned and accounted for. There’s a game plan once they make it into the festival, too, because of course there is, but that’s when things start going south. First, Todo tries to go rogue when he spots someone wearing Takada merch. She’s not performing here, but he’s heard rumors that there would be a stand for her, and he lurches towards the woman. He’d get lost in the crowd immediately if not for Gojo’s lightning fast reflexes.

Unfortunately, soon enough it’s Gojo’s turn to get distracted. What can he say, there’s the smell of sugar in the air, and he needs to know where it’s coming from. Suguru’s the one to get him back on track, as they all head towards the main stage. Because that’s what Shoko’s grand plan leads to: sweet, sweet, close-up spots to watch the Sorcerers, headliners for the festival and also unarguably greatest band of all times, with minimum wait before their show.

There are a couple other close calls, but the group manages to get close enough to the stage. There are people here already, but they’re here for other artists mostly, and they’ll no doubt move quite a bit before the start of the real show. From where they are, even you and Shoko will be able to— Wait a minute.

“Huh,” Gojo say. “Hey, Shoko, do you happen to see (y/n) around?”

“If you can’t see her from up there, why would you think I— Fuck.”

“A fallen soldier,” Todo sighs somberly. “Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for—"

“We should go get her,” Shoko interrupts him. She’s biting her lower lip, staring at her phone. She looks quite worried, Gojo notices as he stares at her.

“Why isn’t it enough to just text her?” Gojo asks. It’s not ideal, and it won’t be easy to find the group in the middle of this sea of people, but it’s not impossible.

“I just— I don’t know if she’ll want to deal with all that” she gestures at the crowd “alone. I’m afraid she’ll say she doesn’t mind and then she won’t have a good time.”

Gojo tilts his head. It wouldn’t cross his mind to say something he doesn’t mean. It’s an incredibly weird thought, actually. But Shoko’s better than him at, well, people, and she might have a point. He also doesn’t want you to have a bad time, after all. With one last glance at the stage, he nods at her.

“I’ll go get her.”

“Are you sure?” Suguru asks. “I can go, if you want me to. It’s your band.”

As if it isn’t his, too. But Gojo shrugs. His attention span is fleeting, and he’s got his sights on something else right now.

“Nah, don’t worry. I’ll make it back.”

“Thanks,” Shoko says sincerely.

He waves vaguely at her before making his way back through the crowd, earning his fair share of nasty glances. He still doesn’t care.

A few minutes later, he receives a text from Shoko with a screengrab where you say you’re getting something to eat. Sure enough, he has no trouble finding you waiting in line. You’re typing on your phone, not paying attention to your surroundings, and he’s grinning already. He lets himself half fall on you, arm wrapping around your body as he drops his chin onto your shoulder. You jump, glancing back bewildered, but you don’t stay tense long once you see it’s him.

Which makes him feel things, actually, but he’ll unpack that later.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, brow furrowing. “I thought you guys would be in front of the stage by now.”

“I came to rescue the princess, obviously,” he says, and you laugh. You laugh a lot when he talks, instead of rolling your eyes like people usually do.

Maybe you’re a bit too good of an audience.

“I don’t need rescuing, Gojo,” you answer, and it’s interesting how calm your voice is. “It’s packed too tight for me in here. I told Shoko but…” You shrug. “It’s not always easy to understand how it is. For me.”

“Yeah,” he says. “I don’t get it at all.”

Your shoulder’s pretty comfortable, though. And you haven’t tried to get him off of you yet.

“Do you want to order something, too?” you ask, pointing at the food stand. They sell waffles, and just the smell has his mouth watering. “Strawberries and whipped cream, right?”

Gojo pauses.

“How do you know that?”

“You’ve mentioned it. A few times, actually.”

He’s sure he has, but—

“You were listening to that?”

You blink at him. He realizes how close your face is, with his head on your shoulder.

“Of course I was. You were talking.”

“Shoko didn’t tell you? It’s like, rule number one of being around me, don’t listen to the stuff I say. There’s a lot of dumb shit in there.”

You tilt your head, looking kind of confused.

“I still want to hear what you’re saying.”

Something inside him feels warm all of a sudden. Very warm.

“Yeah,” he says, but his throat is tight. “Strawberries and whipped cream.”

When you step forward to they can take your order, he begrudgingly gets off your shoulder, which allows him to swipe his card before you can get to it.

“I had that,” you protest while he bites into the insane amount of whipped cream in his waffle — he asked for more until the guy behind the counter looked like he was going to murder him.

“I had it first,” he says, and then he sticks his tongue out at you. He anticipates your laugh this time, finds himself waiting on it. When it comes, it sounds just like he wanted it to.

For a while, the two of you sit on a fence. You hand him a water bottle, say that he needs to stay hydrated. With no one else around, you don’t seem to have such a hard time speaking. You’re so quiet when everyone’s there and, well, him and Todo take up a lot of space, when it comes to conversation. Neither Suguru nor Shoko struggle with making their voices heard either, and in the middle of all that, you tend to stay silent. Apparently, that doesn’t stop you from listening.

“Shouldn’t you be going back?” you ask, after a while.

Gojo tilts his head as he thinks about it.

“Nah, I’m good. Let’s find some place where you can enjoy the show.”

“You don’t have to—”

A grin, and then he’s jumping from the fence to come stand in front of you. Even like that, he doesn’t have to look up to meet your eyes.

“And how d’you plan on stopping me?”

Your eyes go wide. He can almost hear your heart racing, and he thinks he’s starting to get a little too high on that feeling. It’s just so easy, so fun, so delicious.

“Okay,” you squeak, averting your eyes and jumping down after him, clearly trying to hide your reaction. “Okay, I’m coming.”

When you start walking by his side, grabbing your hand is just too easy not to do it.

“Wouldn’t want you to run away again,” is what he says as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “Now you’re stuck with me.”

You still refuse to look at him, but there is no actual discomfort in your reaction, just what he thinks is uncertainty about how you’re supposed to behave now.

“Have I gone off script again?” he practically purrs.

You glance up, a flash of amusement on your face. Lots of fondness, too, and this time he’s the one who gets caught up in it.

“You haven’t been on script once today.”

“Good,” he says, managing to pass off the emotion that just choked him for a second there as impatience. “Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.”

“I’m always on my toes,” you mumble behind him, but you can’t explain to him what anxiety feels like, so you just let him drag you away. His fingers are long, his hand engulfs yours easily. You like the feeling of it more than you should.

Your eyes are on Gojo’s broad back as he pulls you through the crowd, which parts effortlessly for him. You’re enjoying this.

You don’t think it’s going to last.

Gojo doesn’t think about that though, just like he rarely thinks about tomorrows. What he’s thinking about, as he keeps far, far away from the stage, is how to find a place with enough air around for the two of you. It’s easy for him to get a good look at the stage, and he earns his fair share of pissed off glares — “Seriously, it should be illegal to come to an open-air stage when you’re that tall” — but it takes more work to get the perfect space for you. Finally, his eagle eyes figure out some place that’s just perfect, and he beelines for it with you in tow.

“There,” he says, pulling you in front of him and putting his head on top of yours, just to check that the line of sight is good enough.

Ha. He nailed it.

“Thanks,” you say. There’s surprise in your tone.

“Is this a good spot for you?” he checks, but really, he just wants to hear you praise him?

“It is, but— I thought you said you didn’t get it? My—” You gesture vaguely. “—struggle. With all that stuff.”

Oh right. You actually listen to what he says. He needs to keep that in mind for the future.

“Does it matter?” he asks with a shrug.

You stare. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out, and then the crowd starts absolutely howling and you spin around to see the Sorcerersget on the stage. Whatever moment there was there, is forgotten right away. He sees you fish in your bag for your phone, then raise it over your head and tiptoe around, trying to get a good photo.

It’s cute, it’s adorable even, but it’s not very efficient.

“Do you want some help here?” he asks, leaning close to your ear so you can hear him over all the noise.

Your body shivers into him, and he files that away for later.

“Um, yeah,” you shout over the noise. “Here, could you—”

But he pays no attention to the way you offer him your cellphone, and instead he’s bending down, and ignoring your surprised protest as he pushes his head between your legs.

He bench presses a hell of a lot more than he looks like he does, for the record.

With a grunt, he manages to get you up on his shoulders, and some people behind him complain loudly, but whatever, they can wait for you to get the perfect picture. You struggle to stabilize yourself for a dangerous second, and then you stop moving around for a second. Your thighs are supple and warm under his hands and around his head.

One more thing to remember.

“I’m good, I’m good, get me down,” you say quickly, just as he’s storing the thought away.

You seem relieved when your feet get back on the ground, and Satoru lets his hands linger on your waist.

“Was it a nice pic?” he asks. He knows he’s all red in the face, but he’s grinning so wide it almost hurts, actually.

“Perfect,” you squeak. “Thank you. Again.”

Aw. He’s going to get used to that word real quick.

A familiar guitar riff comes from the stage, and you turn away from him once more, but his hands are still on your waist. He uses that to pull you against him and this time, you don’t hesitate to let yourself lean back against him as the two of you move in rhythm with the music.

The concert is a blur after that. There’s a lot of singing, a lot of screaming, basically no time to catch a breath, because the Sorcerers are fucking beasts that don’t let up, not even for a second. At some point, you tell him something, but he can’t really hear, so you crane your neck back and he lowers his head. Your lips brush against his neck, an accident really, but it sends such a jolt of electricity through him, he thinks he’ll go into full overdrive.

The only thing that stops him from chasing after your lips immediately after that is Shoko’s voice, going around in his mind. ‘Don’t push it.’ What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

You move away, and he still has no clue what you were saying. If after that, his hands hold your hips a little tighter, if he pulls you a little closer, he can’t be blamed. If, during one of the more sulfurous song of the show, as you’re swaying against him, humming along to the song, his lips find your neck, he doesn’t want to hear about it.

When he presses a kiss right by your jaw, you turn to look at him. You’re pretty. He’s always thought you were pretty.

Fuck Shoko, he thinks, and he’s ready to put his mouth on yours, to slide his tongue between your parted lips that have looked so inviting this entire week-end, when the riff of the band’s most popular song starts playing, and he loses you attention once more.

Cock-blocked by his favorite band. Fuck his life.

When the song ends, there’s movement in the crowd as the band gets off the stage and people start chanting for an encore. In Shoko’s fool proof, perfect plan, this is when you’re supposed to start leaving. Gojo doesn’t want to — how is he supposed to do anything about how much he wants his mouth on you once you’re back with the other — but this time you grab his hand and pull him away from the stage and he has even less of a clue of what he’s supposed to do about that.

You get to the meeting point before Shoko, Todo and Suguru, which makes sense, considering you were much further from the stage than them. It’s a specific pole that Shoko had pointed to as you were first getting in, and the urge to push you against it and to taste your lips is strong. Gojo isn’t typically one to ignore that kind of feeling. He just goes for it, doesn’t let his brain get in the way too much. He’s not sure what it is with you and your doe eyes and your sweet smile that makes him act different.

Whatever it is, it makes him ask “Did you have a good time?” instead of kissing you senseless behind the pole while watching to make sure Shoko doesn’t catch him in the act.

“It was amazing,” you say. “I don’t think�� I don’t think I’d have gotten that close without you.”

“Did I force your hand?” he asks, frowning.

“No, no, that was great, actually.” And there it comes, his favorite words, and then he’ll kiss you. “Thank—”

“There you guys are!”

You have got to be kidding him. The Gods of timing are so set against him, he must have done something to piss them off badly in another life.

“Okay, we should start heading towards the exit,” Shoko announces.

“Nah, we ‘re staying until the end,” Gojo says, burying his hands, balled into fists, in his pockets. He’s being needlessly belligerent, but whatever, she deserves it, whether she knows it or not.

“Don’t be a dick,” she glares.

He smiles at her. And he doesn’t budge.

“We’ll run,” you say, stepping in. “I’m sure we can still beat the crowd if we run.”

She narrows her eyes at you, then at Gojo.

“You’re a bad influence, you know that?”

So many delicious thoughts coming to him, and he can’t do anything about it. Damn it all.

Of course, it ends with the five of you sprinting on the lawn and all the way back to the house. Of course, he doesn’t catch five seconds with you after that. Of course, your face is on his mind the whole night.

Of course, because it’s just his luck, isn’t it, in the morning, Shoko tells him you had to catch a flight early in the morning.

“I told you, don’t you remember? She’s going back to her family for the summer.”

Of course, he doesn’t.

Ah, whatever. It bothers him for a minute, but then the day continues unfolding, and the sun’s warm, it’s the peak of summer, and he only really knew you for a couple of days. He’ll see how he feels about it when college starts up again in the fall. He’s not known for sticking with things, anyway. He’ll probably forget; you probably won’t capture him again like you did; it was probably a fluke.

That, or these will become famous last words.

sequel

thank you so much for reading! i had a ton of fun writing gojo's pov and i hope you enjoyed it too, even if i'm still finding his voice :) please reblog or comment if you've enjoyed this, i'd love to hear from you! getting readers' feedback on my writing is what keeps me motivated to write so if you'd like to read more from me, that's the way to do it!

tagging the people who expressed interest in this: @elidebrey @xstom @chosospookiebear @xmysticredx

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x you #my writing #gojo imagine #jjk imagine #jjk x y/n

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maybeiwasjustjade · 3 months ago

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The High King theory truly makes me ill.

And knowing SJM and her obsession with making certain characters superior and/or have some kind of divine right to rule, I know she’ll try to make it happen at the expense of literally everyone else.

Moreover, I don’t see how it can happen without a major war. They just got out of 50 years under Amarantha, I doubt the courts are itching for another incompetent warlords’ attempt at HK/HQ.

Who exactly would bow to Feyre and Rhysand? The High Lords meeting showed that barely anyone tolerated them, nor did they have any actual allies that wasn’t Helion. And I doubt Helion would be so forgiving when he finds out about Lucien. Tamlin and Eris would never, so they’d have to die. Neither would Tarquin or Kallias agree, so that’s a given war with the Seasonal Courts. Dawn would stay neutral, or end up the rebel court. It really is the only toss up.

And even with Gwydion (which rightfully belongs to Nesta alongside the Trove) as some kind of divine symbol, feysand genuinely sucks at ruling. Conquer Prythian—yes, conquer because the other HL would never submit if they asked nicely—when they can’t even rule or play nice with their own people. Enough with the HK dreams, Amren; Rhysand would be lucky if Illyria and Hewn City don’t band together soon to stage a massive uprising.

(Y’know I’m not surprised nobody in the IC can empathize with the CoN citizens. They were all trapped in Velaris for fifty years, where they were free and the sun still rose. Imagine if they’d been UtM with everyone else; maybe then they’d get it. That life where even the sun and trees and anything worth living is out of reach at the whims of a dictator is no life at all.)

And I’ve seen theories floating around that the HK plot is set up for Nyx instead, because he’s destined to inherit all seven powers of the court. Yeah, that’s equally terrible. Divine right to rule and conquer is bullshit. Balance is something that should exist but doesn’t in Acotar. If it did, Feyre wouldn’t be as powerful as she is. 7 drops is not a lot of magic; so tiny and miniscule that each HL didn’t even really notice they lost it. It doesn’t make sense that she could go toe to toe with them with just a singular drop.

Which is baffling when the same author wrote ToG. Everything that was given was scraped together and fought for miserably, and even in all that power, they had to sacrifice so much. Aelin Settled and got her kingdom back, but at the price of losing almost all her fire and getting to keep one drop of water. Dorian still has most of his magic, but at the price of being made a demon slave, committing fratricide, and having the sole responsibility of redeeming his kingdom ala Zuko. Manon fulfilled the prophecy and united her people, allowing them the chance to return home for the first time in 500 years. All it took was losing the Thirteen, who would never see that dream come to life.

Nothing came without cost.

And while yes, Feyre deserved to be remade after her death saving Prythian, the amount of magic she wields is the issue. Nesta having so much magic made sense given she stole most of it; we have yet to really see how much is left. But where’s the balance if Feysand does end up HK/HQ, or Nyx does. What have they given up that makes them more worthy to rule the entirety of Prythian than literally any other character? Because I can argue that they’ve lost a lot lesser. Whatever rights feysand believes they have is no more than a lot of other characters.

And the bloodline of Theia? Yeah, I’m pretty sure the important ones are her female descendants, like Bryce. And Bryce gave Gwydion to Nesta for a reason. If SJM wanted me to believe Feysand was the best choice, she should’ve made Nyx be born full Illyrian. Or better yet, mostly High Fae but with no magic. That would’ve been a much more interesting story to follow, given that Nyx might not be the next inheritor of the Night Court. And what it would mean for the Hewn City. She’ll never do it of course, but it would be fun.

#acotar #acotar critical #sjm critical #feyre critical #rhysand critical #feysand critical #inner circle critical #anti feysand #anti feyre #anti rhysand #just in case to be honest #anti high king theory #tog spoilers

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6okuto · 1 year ago

Text

LOVING YOU IS EASY

gn!reader | bokuto fluff ^___<

“we could go window shopping?” bokuto suddenly suggests from his spot beside you on the bench.

“no we could not.” you laugh in disbelief before looking back down at your phone.

through a series of miscommunication, you and your boyfriend have found yourselves at the mall to watch a movie with his team that isn't playing for another 3 hours. it's a weird amount of time where going home doesn't make sense, but you don't have other plans either.

“why not?”

“because it’s never just window shopping.”

kotaro tilts his head, genuinely confused. “huh? i don’t buy that much.”

“for you. i put something back and you’re suddenly behind me putting it in a cart i didn’t even see you grab,” you explain with a light flick to his forehead. “stop spending your money on me.”

kotaro pouts and shifts in his spot beside you to get even closer—he always gets more affectionate when he’s trying to convince you of something. you’ve grown accustomed to the way his arms wrap around your center, and his face finds place in the crook of your neck. his hair tickles your face and you lean away, only giving him the opportunity to nuzzle closer and kiss your jaw. “but i like spoiling you. you deserve it.”

“what happens when my closet gets too full from all the clothes you buy me? or there’s no more space on my poor bookshelf?”

“i’ll get you another bookshelf! you can have my closet.”

“yeah? where are your clothes gonna go then?”

“i’ll put them somewhere at the bottom.”

“liar.” you laugh breathily and pinch his cheek. “they’d get all wrinkled and you’d get pouty and ask where the steamer is.”

“then i’ll get a dresser.”

“then why couldn’t i get a dresser?”

“the closet’s more space,” he says as if it were obvious.

“kotaro,” you drag out his name. the way your boyfriend fawns over has always been a little hard to believe. it was easy for anyone to see that loving you came effortlessly to him, affection woven into every breath he took and gaze that landed in your vicinity. when you’d ask how and why, what it was about you, his brows would furrow and he’d purse his lips. “what do you mean? everything about you, i guess?”

and it's not like you didn’t have your own income to get him gifts either. but every time you do, your boyfriend seems to take it as a sign to get you double what you got him. it isn’t in a competitive way—he’s told you himself that he just gets so happy that he wants to make sure you’re even happier.

so you make yourself welcome his affection and every “i love you” he yells before having to part ways. you let every hug and kiss wrap around you like a blanket, let them seep into your bones and whisper soft words of affection that promised to love you the same to the ends of the earth, or until you’d believe each one as easily as they were spoken.

but you think guilt would always find its way, slipping through hidden cracks in the heart you’ve built, chipping away in search of its companion, hatred, slumbering somewhere inside.

kotaro looks up at you at the sound of his name, hair tickling you again, and eyes somewhere between pleading and determined. your noses are only a few inches apart, as if a closer proximity would make your words soak into him easier. “i’m serious, you don’t have to spend your money on me, ko.”

“and i’m serious when i say i want to.” he says, furrowing his brows and bringing his hands up to cup your face, too. you’re sure the both of you look silly, sitting on a bench, holding each other’s faces, but kotaro doesn’t hesitate or care about passersby.

you’re not sure he ever has when it came to loving you.

“i don’t want you to worry about stuff like that, y’know? i have more than enough money to spend to make you happy, so why wouldn’t i?”

he says your name, in a tone more serious than his usual one. “i love you. i love getting you things and seeing you happy. you always think i’m giving you too much, right? but i don’t think so. even if you don’t see it, you do a lot for me just by being you. this is me showing you i love you just as much, and that you can rely on me, too.”

you’re not surprised at how easily he speaks, yet your eyes still search his, looking for some kind of hesitation, a sign he’s lying that you know doesn’t exist. you huff. “if i’m super cheesy and say i don’t need your money to be happy, will you stop spending it?”

he smiles at you. “nope! ’cause i already know that.”

you sigh, lips twitching into a defeated smile. “don’t know why i tried.”

“so i can keep spoiling you? if we check out the new store that opened, i promise i won’t spend a lot this time.”

“what’s considered a lot?”

“dunno, maybe a few shirts?” he considers. you shoot him a look of disbelief. “...less than a few? is a few five? four? three? it’s three? by definition?”

“ko.”

“three. okay. the price of three shirts. really! seriously. there was just something i think you’d like—”

“ko.”

“baby, okay, what if—okay, something we’d like?” he starts to stand up, hands grabbing yours to pull you up with him.

you jokingly groan and pull back. “will we make it back in time for the movie?”

“of course! trust me,” he reassures you. you don’t trust him, of course. yet at the same time you jut out your lips, you let your fingers interlock with his so he can pull you, and kotaro shoots you a grin—the same one he always has around you, still coming as easily as spoiling and loving you seemed to.

seeing the same green divider in all my notifications has been driving me not up but Through a wall in a Very big truck going Very fast so i will be regularly using different colours now.

🏷 | @devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtc @dimslover @kuroaka @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @the-b-u-n-n-y @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @libbyistired

#haikyuu x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto fluff #haikyuu fluff #x reader

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loveinhawkins · 2 years ago

Text

“What do you write about?” Steve asks.

The question slips out on a summer night, the kind where the grass still holds a residual heat after the sun has set. They’re on that hill, the highest point in Hawkins—the one Dustin calls Weather-something. Eddie got a real kick out of hearing the name when they’d walked up here, laughing as they began an impromptu race to the top (“Not fair, you distracted me! Didn’t take you for a cheat, Harrington.”).

It feels special that they’re here, Steve thinks. That there’s even a hill to be on.

Eddie is plucking away at his acoustic guitar; he has a tell where he repeats a few meandering musical phrases, and Steve knows that there’s a song beginning to grow underneath his fingertips.

Eddie pauses mid-pluck of a string as he registers Steve’s question. He smiles, huffs almost fondly, “What a question, Steve.” Doesn’t even hesitate when he answers, “Just… good things, man. The things I love.”

Steve doesn’t know how he does it—just says that sort of stuff out in the open, like it’s nothing. Like it’s everything.

“Okay, but…” Steve pulls out a few blades of grass, smirks when they brush across Eddie’s bare ankle and he jumps slightly; it must tickle. “Like what?”

Eddie’s smile grows. “Why? You makin’ a list?” But before Steve can think of a reply, he adds, “Oh, y’know. Loads of things.” He gestures at their surroundings, winks. “Like… a summer day. And, well…” His eyes flicker to the town below them. He shrugs, but it comes across as a painful attempt at looking casual. “Hawkins, I guess.”

“Why?” Steve says, can’t stop himself.

How can you still… Don’t you hate it? I fucking hate it, sometimes.

Because, in the end, it wasn’t The Upside Down that had almost killed Eddie. Not really.

It was people.

Eddie is staring at him. He sets the guitar aside, leaning forward and peering at Steve like he’s doing something particularly fascinating.

“You’re angry.”

Steve shakes his head reflexively, feels a prickle of defensiveness. He keeps his voice as even as he can when he says, “No, I’m not.”

“Oh, you are,” Eddie says softly. Something must show on Steve’s face because he amends, “Like, not… Don’t worry. Not a loud anger.”

Eddie says things like that sometimes, things that bring Steve up short. He wonders, not for the first time, if Eddie’s dad was loud in his anger.

“You know how I know?” Eddie is so close now that Steve can see where the bridge of his nose has been turned red by the sun. “Your eyes, Steve. They burn. What’s all that about, huh?” He throws in a little playful tone at that, but when Steve doesn’t smile, he sobers. “Just… seems like a lotta energy, is all.”

He doesn’t say it, but Steve can hear it. Hates that he can hear it.

Seems like a lot of energy to waste on me.

“I just—” Steve sighs, casts a glance at the landscape down below. Works his jaw. He’s no good at this, he thinks. The words get stuck. They almost took everything from you.

But Eddie just smiles back like he gets it, like he can hear Steve, too.

“Everything’s a mix of good and bad, right? One doesn’t, like, cancel out the other. Not always.”

And Steve hears I hate it sometimes, too. But that can’t stop my love.

Steve tries again. “It’s just…” He turns away from Hawkins, looks right into Eddie’s eyes. “Eddie. You deserve… better.”

Eddie’s expression softens. He leans closer still. “You’ve got a big heart, Steve Harrington.”

And then…

He kisses Steve on the cheek, chaste and sweet, lips still warm from a day in the sun.

“You’re one of my good things,” Eddie whispers.

#steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie

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razorblade180 · 6 months ago

Text

9 days of Lancaster Day 5: Hidden Relationship

Ruby:*washing plates*

Jaune:*dirty* Hey there stranger. Hard at work I see.

Ruby:I lost a bet with Nora and this is my punishment. What’s with the smudges?

Jaune:Yang wanted to help me “improve my combat abilities.”

Ruby:Ooof, I’m sorry.

Jaune:I’m not immediately sore like last time so that’s something.

Ruby grabs a glass and fills it with water for him.

Jaune:Awww, my heart. *grabs it*

Ruby:Hush you goober. I know Yang’s training all too well. I’m surprised you’re walking.

Jaune:Well y’know, recently I’ve been getting in good stamina training.

Ruby:*red*…Is that so? Hadn’t noticed. My training is always pretty vigorous.

Jaune:Oh I’ve noticed. Guess I still have a long way to go. Although…I’m sure you’d have a little more trouble with my “training”

Ruby:Pfft, oh really? I think I’m pretty fit in case you haven’t noticed!

Jaune:Oh I’ve noticed.

Ruby:…..*flicks water on him*

Jaune:Ah!

Ruby:I couldn’t think of a comeback. You’re filthy anyways. I’m just washing you up a bit.

Jaune:If that’s the case…I think there’s a smudge around my chin I can’t quite get off.

Ruby didn’t know if it was herself, Nora, or Yang that has influenced Jaune, but it was a diabolical blessing. The young knight approached her innocently with a smile. Ruby double checked their surroundings then preceded to gently rub her thumb across his chin. Of course, Jaune took the opportunity to pull her in by her lower back. Ruby gladly became ensnared in his trap, going as far to stand up on her toes and give a sweet, mischievous kiss.

The two of them giggled as they continued peppered each other with growing affection. If only more of these moments could come by frequently. Unfortunately, privacy is hard in a group of nine, and the both of them wished to revel in this growing relationship away from others. Not forever of course, but long enough to make it feel personal and intimate. Although if the others knew, they’d probably tell them intimacy is far from a problem.

Ruby felt her body hold him closer as their kiss became…less innocent. Jaune was seconds away from putting her on the countertop when the click of a doorknob snapped them back to reality. An instant petal burst brought Ruby back to washing dishes while Jaune focused on his water as Yang walked in.

Yang:Hey party people! Ruby, you should’ve seen Jaune during our match. Gotta admit, he’s getting some moves. Almost pinned me a few times.

Ruby:Wow, that’s high praise. Practice must be paying off.

Jaune:*refilling water*

Yang:Someone’s thirsty.

Ruby:Pfft, I’ll say. He’s all red too.

Jaune:W-What can I say? Things got pretty heated, literally.

Ruby:Please don’t singe him. We can’t explain that to Nora.

Yang:He will be fine. All he needs is a little rest and a well deserved bath. Also isn’t Nora supposed to be on dish duty?

Ruby:I lost a bet, which sucks because I wanted to look around Mistral a bit.

Yang:I’ll take over for ya. You suck at drying anyways.

Ruby:Hey!

Yang:I’m gonna put my things away first. Jaune, hit the showers. You smell like smoke. *walks off*

Jaune:Gee, I wonder why!

He waves goodbye at Ruby and heads to the bathroom. Honestly it was a miracle he didn’t singe anything. As he walked in a closed the door, a sudden gust went by him. Jaune turned around and was greeted with a swift hand over his mouth from Ruby while the other quickly locked the door behind him. She slowly moved her hand and smiled.

Ruby: I lied about Mistral

Jaune: You are gonna get me killed.

Ruby tried not to laugh. She ran the sink and turned on the bath for more noise.

Ruby:Gotta make opportunities where you can. Besides…*red* You got me a little riled up.

Jaune:I mean…fair but- my life.

Ruby:You’ll be fine. I’ll sneak out after I learn about this so called “training” so let’s just focus on us. I can also help you wash up, like any good partner would do. Unless… you don’t want to?

She didn’t even let him respond before taking off her cap and sitting on the sink counter with a wide grin. Ruby held her arms out, inviting him. Despite his protests, Jaune easily walked into the embrace and found his hands back where they were before they were interrupted.

Jaune:Prepare for your workout.

Ruby:Hehe, lead on. I’m happily in your care~

#rwby #9 days of lancaster #rwby lancaster #ruby rose #9 days of lancaster 2024 #jaune arc #yang xiao long

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sminiac · 10 months ago

Note

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WHINY RIWOO WITH DRY HUMPING I BEG. IT CAN START WITH THEM LIKE PLAY FIGHTING BEING CUTE BUT THEN. YEAH. I read one with riize sohee and.. It was LIFE changing 👁

⋆ Lee Sanghyeok + Reader

Contains! — Smut focused, dry humping, MDNI.

Note — As soon as you mentioned Sohee w this I was like “Thea!!!😧☝️” bc IT REALLY WAS LIFE CHANGING, ugh I love my mutuals, I <3 @kissohee. But I gotchu! Although, I will switch it up so it doesn’t seem very copy paste, it wouldn’t feel right to me, here’s the fic w Sohee that was mentioned <3

You knew they’d do good, they always did, and Riwoo was one out of the six who certainly knew that they had executed their performance quite perfectly.

The adrenaline rush still buzzes within him as he comes bursting back into the waiting room, walking like the sun had found its place of eternal peace under the thick of his skin. His confidence glowed from within, beaming in contentment as he falls into your chest with an eruption of happy giggles, basking you in his warmth, saying breathlessly against you that he had fun, so much fun, and that it didn’t even feel like he was running on merely a few hours of sleep as your fingers scratched against the nape of his neck, sweat dripping from his hair and down the surface of his skin, it reminded you of the way water shakes off of pine trees after a long shower from the clouds above.

You couldn’t deny how pretty he looks like this despite the cemented fact that the two of you were strictly platonic, only best friends, but something foreign stirred up inside of you seeing the way he still struggles to catch his breath, his heart beating so fast that you can feel it through the layers of clothing between the two of you.

“You looked really hot on stage.” you say simply, watching the way your fingers thread through the few inches of his blonde hair. “Yeah, it was really warm, I don’t think I’ve ever produced this much sweat from performing before.”

You struggle to bite back a laugh at his clueless response, a little warm in the face from his unknowingness to the existing layers of your words. “I bet, I can feel it soaking through your clothes, how’re you on top of me if you’re so warm?” Your finger pokes gently into his cheek.

“Shhh!” He musters as he lets his hands out from bearing his weight, his cheek smushed against your shoulder as he settles further into you. “I’d prefer for my pillows not to yap in my ear when I’m trying to sleep, thanks.”

Your palm gently pats against the back of his head, imitating a smack that makes him jump, you’re too busy whining about how he needs to get off of you that the fact his semi-hard cock just dug into your thigh goes unnoticed. “You’re lucky I’m so nice to you, y’know? Bratty boy.”

He makes a small ‘Mmmph’ sound in disagreement, his hips lifting and then falling back into you. Right now it seems that you’re the clueless one after dismissing the movement as a way to annoy you, and not that he’s secretly rolling his own high into play.

“I’m so nice to you, Riwoo. Sometimes I think I show you a little too much leniency, even when you do deserve it.” There’s an airy laugh to your tone, “No matter how rare that is.” and his ears know that you’re merely just joking around, you know- like you always do, it’s how you you are, but something about it is simultaneously making his hips shift against your leg, his breaths so heavy that they start exiting through his mouth in quiet pants.

“Please-” he squeaks, his hands fisting at your top desperately, he tries to keep himself from grinding into you fully with the heft and longevity that has his mouth watering, it’s not right, but fuck does it already feel so good.

“What? What’re you doing?”

“Hhngh- why d’you, fuck-! Have t’be so soft.” He’s taken under by the slightest lick of pleasure, so much so that his own embarrassment is far from the surface, and he’s not willing to pull himself out of it anytime soon. “Riwoo, can you…” the pre that sinks into his briefs coaxes him to keep going, rocking faster, harder against your leg, but the pleasure only comes to a certain point before fizzling out again, he doesn’t have enough firmness to make him breach the minor setback but he’s too stupid to come up with a solution for himself. “Honey please, I just need to you-”

He isn’t listening, his hips are frantic, eager, a little too much for your liking. “slow down.” You pull your leg away, out from under him.

He looks up at you with a quivering lip, such a sweet docile thing, his wide glossy eyes blinking up at you, the fear starting to sink in once he’s able to focus back on the actuality of the moment. He was just pathetically humping your leg. You, his bestfriend, his awfully pretty bestfriend who has a habit of calling him ‘honey’.

“Sorry, s-sorry. Fuck! Oh my god, Y/n I’m really sorry.” His head starts shaking side-to-side, a look of pure disbelief on his face as tears start swelling against the bottom lid of his eye, they fall heavy with every blink, the smoked out mix of warm browns around his aegyosal smearing down his face, leaving an existing trail that makes the entire act so much more lucid.

“You need to chill out,” you chuckle whilst leaning into him, he’s frighteningly still as you press a tender kiss against the mole under his eye. “I just wanted to move, make it feel better for you, you probably won’t be able to cum like this, hm?”

You look so beautiful, he swears you’re an angel, especially with that damn proclivity for being so concerned about others before yourself. He nods his head, agreeing, you’re right- how are you so right all of the time? The words, the way you use them, he’s never heard such explicit language come from your mouth before in any amount of sincerity that they’re soaked in now, but god does he want to kiss you because of it. “Tell me,” you beckon, your eyelashes are so pretty, has he told you that before? Especially the way your head tilts to the side, the angle makes them look more wispy as you blink around at his features, your fingers gently moving the ends of his hair out of the way.

You touch him like he’s always been yours to touch, and right now he’s never been more sure of wanting to always be just yours.

“Can’t- you’re right, you are. I-I bet I could, make do with what I have, don’t need anything else- whatever you give me, ‘s more than good enough.” His sniffles break through his words, the sound of his voice so quiet, shy, hiding in the back of his throat that it makes it crack.

“Trade spots with me, will you?”

He nods quickly, he will, of course he will, he’ll do anything you ask of him. He wastes no time pushing himself back onto his calves, watching as you stand up from the couch and instruct him to lay on his back, claiming your spot.

“Comfy?” You ask, leaning over him, pushing his hair back from his forehead, it pokes out between the crack of your fingers as he nods, eyes closing as you place a warm kiss against his forehead. “Good. Sweet boy, bein’ so good for me.”

Sweet boy, he’s never heard that one before, it has the exact same effect that your usual pet name has on him, he knows because it makes his shoulder ache. A whimper bubbles from his lips, you can feel the way he squirms under you, it has your hips moving to rest directly over his dick that’s straining heavy, wet in his pants. The sensation is warm, really warm, and… damp? Your hand drags down, thumb swiping over the area a few times as Riwoo’s fighting back a long pitchy moan from escaping so bad that it hurts, curiously you inch back, seeing a darker patch of black along the seam of his slacks, his pre had enough time to completely soak through, added the copious amount it was enough to breach through the thick of your pants.

The moisture makes the fabric feel almost thinner, or maybe it’s the way it’s conformed to the shape of his head that makes the drag of your pussy over it feel even more distinct as you move back, unwilling to waste time, to let even a second of seeing him like this slip from your grasp you resume grinding against him.

“Please- fuck! Y/n- pleasepleaseplease!” He whimpers quickly, unabashedly rocking his hips up in time with yours, his left hand has a firm grip on your thigh that keeps you close, his other rests against his cheek, index finger caught between his teeth as he rocks into you. “Wanna cum, jus’ wanna cum- make a mess f’you, only you- shit! Plea-”

His legs help him punch up into you, unexpectedly spilling in his pants, you watch whilst catching your breath at the way he shudders back down into the cushions under him, his mouth wide open, drool pooling behind his teeth and leaking out of the corners of his lips, a long drawn out whine pulling from his chest, a fuzzy dazed expression on his face, filling out his brain.

“You really do know how to make a mess.” You tease, hands running soothingly up and down his chest.

“I don’t think I’ve ever came like that before… are we- are we still only friends if you made me cum that hard that fast?”

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hauntedhokage · 6 months ago

Text

PART 12: Early Mornings

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

SUMMARY: You enjoy morning coffee with Bakugou, making some plans for future days.

[series masterlist] | {ao3} | [tumblr masterlist] | {ko-fi} | [spotify playlist]

It’s always difficult to pull yourself away from Eijirou after long nights of socializing. He was a talented extrovert but events like that always exhausted him, making him clingier than usual when you went to bed and impossible to wake up the following morning. You remembered curling up on the couch with Eijirou after showering and changing, and must have dozed off while Katsuki was in the shower because you woke up in Katsuki’s bed with Eijirou while the blonde was nowhere in sight. It was interesting that you’d ended up here, but not surprising. Keeping his babygirls together was important to Eijirou, and Katsuki had the bigger bed, so it was the natural spot to collect.

Rolling out of the bed was difficult, the strong arms kept trying to pull you back into the bed until you eventually broke away from them and landed somewhat gracefully on your feet. The pathetic sleep whine that leaves him is quickly muffled by him rolling over onto his stomach and pressing his face into the pillow that you’d left behind. It’s tempting to curl back up around him and get another hour or so of sleep, but there’s a conversation that you’d like to have with Katsuki without your shared boyfriend hovering around with a shit eating grin on his face.

And you find the blonde in the kitchen, standing in front of the coffee pot and pouring what looked to be a second mug of coffee.

“Morning,” you greet softly, closing the distance between you as he nods his own greeting.

“I thought you’d be up soon, so I made more coffee. I just don’t know how you like yours, and didn’t want to make it something you wouldn’t like.”

It was a thoughtful gesture, and you explain how you like your coffee as you fix it to your specifications. He's taking mental notes, you know him too well at this point to think otherwise, and you try to move with enough space that he can see what you’re doing.

“C’mon.” He tilts his head in the direction of the living room, and you follow him from the kitchen but continue out to the balcony, not missing him grabbing the blanket left on the couch on his way.

The bench on the patio was large enough to fit three people, but you sit close to Katsuki and are grateful for the blanket that he puts over both of your laps when the cold morning air settles on your skin. You don’t know quite what to say, but you feel comfortable enough to trust that you didn’t have to say anything - just being beside him in this moment was enough. To have him invite you to share this personal time meant a lot, but you know they’d tell you that you were putting too much on it.

“How’s your wrist feeling?”

“Much better. I think your kisses might double as a painkiller.” He’s exaggerating, but you’re glad to hear that he wasn’t in as much pain as he had been last night. “Your feet okay? You were walking kinda stiff towards the end.”

“Those shoes suck, but I’m good now.”

He nods, and you both take a drink of your coffee in near unison while continuing to stare out at the skyline you could see from the balcony.

“Thank you for fixing my shirt,” you finally comment after a couple moments of quiet, looking over to see those amber eyes fixated on you. “You didn’t have to, especially after the way I yelled at you that day. That wasn’t very kind of me, and I’m sorry for treating you like that.”

“No, I deserved a lot of that. I didn’t explain myself well enough, and made you feel like shit because of it and that wasn’t fair to you. You’ve always been enough, y’know? For him, and-” he pauses, his free hand carefully coming to rest on your cheek as his own tint a soft pink - because of the cold weather, you’re sure. “And for me, too. And I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t.”

You know better than to ask if he means it, the one thing Bakugou Katsuki didn’t do was say things he didn’t mean to make people feel better.

“Do you want to do something tomorrow night? Just the two of us?” The question doesn’t feel surprising coming from him, but the way his hand stayed on your cheek certainly was. It was warm though, you weren’t going to complain.

“Like a date?”

“We can keep it friendly, if you want.”

“Is that what you want?” It wasn’t, and he knows by the look on your face that you knew the answer too. “Because I’d like for it to be more than just friendly.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, gently pulling his hand from your face to hold in your own as you murmur, “Last night was a lot of fun, and I’d love to spend more time with you.”

He only nods, and you know he’s not going to say anything soft in return at this point so you’re happy to just sit in silence with him. It was still comfortable, and that was what mattered most to you as you continued drinking your coffee.

“I talked to Deku about your idea for how we can stop fight night before it starts next year. We both think a sanctioned tournament similar to how UA had the sports festival would decrease a considerable amount of the activity on the streets.”

You don’t remember when you’d talked to Katsuki about that, which leads you to believe that he’d listened to one of your rambles about crime reduction tactics or maybe Eijirou had said something about it. Either way it felt incredibly validating to hear that three of the top five pros thought that you were onto something and would possibly take your idea higher up.

“Most of the arrested parties had no known gang affiliation, it just makes sense to provide some outlet for people to let the edge off and get paid for it if they do well.”

“The research you did on that was very detailed. I didn’t think you had the energy for that between your own work and taking care of us.”

“You read through my research?”

“You left it out and I was curious. You were really going to take that to the Hero Commission?”

“The Commission, the Mayor of Tokyo, maybe even see if the Prime Minister’s office would at least look at it. It’s unnecessarily dangerous for the city and the people in it, and the heroes working to stop it. Last year was bad, this year was worse, and it’s only going to escalate unless something is done to address it.” The way he was looking at you was something you don’t think you’d experienced directed at you. You’d seen the undivided attention and intent thinking face be directed at Eijirou, marveling at how your boyfriend didn’t crack under the pressure of the blonde’s intense gaze, but to have it directed at you made you realize just why Eijirou handled it so well. Being on the receiving end didn’t make you feel small, or as if he was trying to pick apart your argument - in fact, you felt the opposite. The way he looked at you made you feel like you could kick in the door to the Prime Minister’s office with no consequences, you even felt like he’d help.

“You care a lot about this. For the city and the people in it.”

“We’ve seen the country fall apart before due to unchecked quirk aggression, I’d hate to live through that twice.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, carefully pulling your now empty mug from your hands to sit on the table beside the bench. “But I doubt you want to talk about work on your day off.”

“I don’t mind it, I like talking to you.”

“When we go out tomorrow night, no work talk.”

“What’s the penalty if we slip up?”

“I’m sure we can come up with something agreeable for us both.”

You nod at that before turning as movement catches your eye from the other side of the window. Eijirou had finally rolled out of bed, bright red hair a mess as he slowly moved around the living room looking for something. It only takes a second for Katsuki to catch on to what you’d seen, and he watches with the same fond smile you wear as you both watch your boyfriend try to figure out where his lovers had gone.

“Let’s go save him from his misery,” Katsuki suggests, and you nod your agreement while letting him help you up from your seat. The blanket is carefully wrapped around your shoulders before he grabs the empty coffee mugs and leads you inside. He offers to cook breakfast while letting Eijirou steal a couple needy kisses, then it’s your turn to be needily kissed on and cuddled while Katsuki sets to work.

“Can’t believe you left me, baby.”

“We’d never leave you,” you mumble into his neck, placing a gentle kiss to the warm skin as footsteps pad across the living room floor. “Never ever.”

“You were together?”

“Mhm, just on the balcony. Never too far from our baby Eiji.” Your assurance is met with a kiss to the top of your head, and you feel your body rock with Eijirou’s as Katsuki gently nudges him while telling you there was more coffee on the side table for you.

It’s a few minutes before you’re given the room you need to actually drink the coffee Katsuki had brought out to you, so it’s colder than you would have preferred, but you’re amazed at the fact that he’d made it perfect for you. He was good, much better than you were at paying attention to details like that and committing them to memory so quickly.

But he definitely cared a lot about getting things right.

#the way im posting this while on facetime with silver and she doesn't know #hheheeheheheheh #alp #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou imagine #kirishima x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugo imagine #kiribaku #mha fanfic #bnha fanfic

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dontsh0vethesun · 11 months ago

Text

the christmas fair

part four of home for christmas

natasha romanoff x reader

The hallmark movie inspired Christmas story that nobody asked for.

Natasha Romanoff fell out of love with Christmas, but perhaps a certain someone could help her find the festive magic once again.

Coming home to her small hometown from her life in New York City, the children’s author is reunited with the people of her past; some are happier to see her than others.

But, will rekindled relationships inspire the Christmas story she’s struggling to write? Or will she go home empty handed?

fluff, friendship, an attempt at humour, cringe of course, brief angst?

wc: 3.1k | part one | part two | part three | part five

Wanda’s arm wrapped itself behind your back as she took her place beside you on the sofa, supplying you with a cup of hot chocolate whilst Monica, Carol, Kamala and Kate sat around you too. It was routine for the group of you to get together after a date and this instance was no different, despite it not being your regular topic of conversation, a debrief of yesterday was a must.

“Not to just jump right into the elephant in the room,” Kamala spoke. “But, she kissed you?”

“I can’t believe her,” Monica sighed. She's been strongly supporting your side since the beginning - as had the others - and she wasn’t giving the redhead the benefit of the doubt. To her, she is the one that broke your heart and nothing else.

“Did you kiss her back?” Kate smirked. She, like Wanda, was willing to see the more optimistic side of the situation. Though they’re completely in your corner, with that also comes their desire for you to be happy. They’d attempt to beat Natasha up if that’s what you asked but they will also give her a little leeway - if that’s what you think she deserves. Your happiness is of the utmost importance to them all and they will support you with whatever choice you make.

“I may have,” you mumbled, hiding your heated cheeks behind your mug.

“Of course you did,” Carol laughed, stretching her leg as far as she could to give your knee a teasing nudge.

“Was it a good kiss?” Kamala asked through a smile. All of your friends seemed to find much amusement in your embarrassment.

“It was- I mean - it was a kiss, y’know?” you bumbled out, really hoping for a slight topic change to cool the way your skin had begun to burn beneath their teasing giggles.

“So it was pretty good, then,” Monica smirked, laughing at the way you tried to hide behind Wanda’s shoulder.

“God, I dunno,” you sighed. “It was good but I don’t know what that means - if it means anything. I don’t know if it changes anything for me and I don’t know if I want it to.”

“That’s okay,” Wanda spoke. Her voice was soft and the epitome of support and one glance at the softened eyes of your friends was enough to make your heart swell.

“Yeah, we’re all here for you - no matter what,” Kamala nodded, receiving hums of agreement around the room.

“We all know she broke your heart,” Monica added. “Whether you admit it or not.” She looked at you with a faux sternness with that, cutting off your murmurings of denial before you could even attempt them. “I, for one, do not like her. I hate her for how she left you but I can be civil-”

“I’m not sure that look you gave her the other night was ‘civil’,” Carol laughed and the woman couldn’t even deny it, she only shrugged with a huff of a laugh.

“She deserved it,” she returned. “My point is, I’m completely on your side. If you want her to go back to New York next week and never come back, I’ll keep her away. If you figure out this mess you’ve got going on and you decide she’s changed - that she’ll fit into your life - I will stick by you.”

“Mhm,” Wanda nodded. “We’re fighting in your corner. This is your life, don’t let anybody else dictate your decisions. It’s about your feelings.”

“I’m sure we could all gang up on her for a fight,” Kamala added, making you all laugh at the clear determination on her face.

“I could finally put my archery classes to good use,” Kate spoke.

“Alright,” you laughed. “I love you all but I’m not sure any of that’s necessary yet. I just - I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never felt so torn, y’know? It’s such a mess right now,” you groaned. “I want your honest opinions. What do I do?”

“Tell her to get back on her high horse in New York,” Monica spoke.

“I say, give her a chance,” Kamala stated.

“Me too,” Kate agreed. “You’ll never know for sure if you don’t explore it all.”

“While I think second chances are nice and all, I say you let us send her packing,” Carol spoke, making you all laugh lightly at the way she mockingly showed off her muscles.

“I think you should give her a chance,” Wanda smiled, she knows you best and she can see that glint in your eye. “But don’t give her a chance for her, do it for you. You deserve to know if she can give you what you deserve. I joke around with the ‘hopeless romantic’ thing but you know it’s just because I wanna see you happy. I’ll be with you every step of the way and I’ll help you pick up the pieces if it doesn’t go how you want it to. But I love you too much to just watch you give up a chance on something that could make you happy.”

“Okay,” you nodded, swallowing thickly at the tears that dared to bubble beneath the surface. “You’re the best friends a girl could ask for, you know that right?”

“Of course we do,” Monica grinned, stepping over to you to pull you into a hug.

She was quickly followed by the remainder of the group, soon barely able to breathe, crushed within five pairs of arms. You’d have it no other way.

“How about we take a night off from the Romanoff situation and go to the fair?” Kate questioned.

—

An hour later, the six of you were fumbling around with skates on your feet, trying your hardest to stay upright on the ice. It was the perfect way to forget about everything burdening you, it was difficult to focus on much else besides the mere act of not falling flat on your face.

Of course, to your luck, Yelena had decided to accompany her sister to the annual town fair right at the most inopportune time. You didn’t notice each other for a while, being fortunate to avoid one another at first. Little did you know, Natasha and her sister had been having a similar afternoon with a conversation surrounding you. She too, was attempting to steer clear for the time being, hoping the pair of you could organise your thoughts a little better before coming face to face again.

But, during an attempt to amuse your friends by separating from the onlooking group to try your hand at some kind of spin that would have them in awe, your body collided with another. The solidity of a leather jacket-clad torse was a relief compared to the frozen ground you’d expected to land on when you stumbled.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you hurried out, instinctively grabbing onto the arms that held you upright. “I- Natasha?”

“Hi,” she smiled. It was an observably awkward upturning of her lips but it was a smile nonetheless. “Fancy bumping into you here,” she laughed. You saw how it turned into a genuine chuckle when you laughed at the comment too.

“It was a graceful fall at least, right?”

“Like a ballerina,” she lied. You both knew you’d almost taken down a couple of other people with you but that wasn’t the point right now - you were practically begging her not to make fun of you. It was almost like before.

“What’re you doing here? I mean, you’re at the fair obviously - but what are you - are you here with Lena?” you stuttered out, regretting the short glance towards your staring friends who failed at hiding their amusement at the scene playing out in front of them.

“Yeah, she dragged me out here,” she laughed. “It’s almost as fun as I remembered.”

“Almost,” you whispered, voicing your thought aloud when you meant to keep it in. She looked at you fondly, remembering the way she’d used to do this all with you and you broke your inquisitive gaze with a clearing of your throat. The silence had lasted a little too long for your liking and Wanda skated over at just a glimpse of eye contact with you.

“Hey, Nat,” she nodded.

“Oh, hi.” She’d clearly forgotten she wasn’t existing in a moment that only the pair of you shared and her cheeks flushed pink as she let go of your arms - neither of you realised you were still holding onto the other.

“Sorry to drag her away but Kamala wants more hot chocolate.”

“Oh- right- yeah,” she nodded. “I’ll see you around?”

“Sure,” you smiled before letting Wanda guide you away.

—

“Okay, scale from one to ten, how awkward was that?” Kate asked you. “It looked like at least an eight from where we were.”

“Surprisingly, I’d give it a six,” you answered before taking a sip of the sweet drink in your paper cup.

“That is a surprise,” Monica returned. She was pleased that it hadn’t resulted in a need for a duel right there and then and that you were smiling bashfully at the thought of it. “I’d have put it at a nine. You literally fell into her, even I was embarrassed.”

“God, don’t make me think about it,” you grumbled. “I saw my life flash in front of my eyes.”

“Anything seeming a little clearer yet?” Wanda asked, bumping her shoulder into yours whilst you made your way over to the ferris wheel.

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “I’m not sure - I’m hoping to just avoid her for tonight and think about it tomorrow.”

“You do love to procrastinate,” Carol half-joked, as you joined the queue.

A while later, practically shivering in the cold, your breath forming in puffs of white before you, the line had shortened enough for you to make your way onto the ride. Carol paired off with Monica and Kate with Kamala but you had your seat stolen by some queue-jumper you could’ve rugby tackled on the spot.

You shook your head at Wanda just before she went to verbally attack them - you didn’t want to be banned for life.

You waited for the next available seat to make its way to you and felt the freezing metal through your jeans, instantly regretting agreeing to come on this ride at all.

“I can sit somewhere else if you want me to,” a voice rasped in your periphery. Natasha. Her hands were pushed into her pockets as usual and she inched away as though she knew your answer before you uttered it. The relieved grin she gave you when you patted the space next to you almost made you swoon; that smile almost made you forgive her on the spot. God, does she know how much she affects you?

“Of all the ferris wheels in all the towns, you get onto mine,” you smiled, revelling in the laugh she let out at your quotation of a movie you’d shown her years ago.

You let yourselves sit in the quiet as you lifted higher and higher off the ground. It wasn’t so uncomfortable this time. As though you’d both started to untangle the entwined and knotted mess of feelings about each other. Like the tension of a coiled spring beginning to loosen.

Seeing the town from this high up was picturesque; you could pinpoint houses, and places where memories were formed. She pointed out the part of the place you both called home where she’d laughed at you falling off a skateboard until her cheeks hurt. She brought it up for years afterwards and just a gesture of her hand in the direction of the spot was enough to make you gently shove her.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she grumbled as the metal of the wheel groaned and you were left stationary in the air, the cold breeze against the tip of your nose from the highest point you could be.

“Oh god,” you sighed, hearing the ride conductor shout up an apology and an approximate of ten minutes until you’d be let down. You laughed at the thought of Wanda stuck beside a stranger she’d taken an instant disliking to.

“Guess we’re trapped for a while,” she breathed, resting her arms on the bar in front of you with her hands fidgeting familiarly.

“Could be worse,” you laughed to ease the tension. “You could be Wanda.”

You nodded your head downwards to where your best friend was suspended in the air, positioning herself so far away from the boy beside her that she was practically falling off. Natasha laughed wholeheartedly at the sight. You both did and it brought up thoughts of the past, how it used to be, which made you think of the fact that she was truly here.

“How come you’re back?” you asked, turning as much as you could to challenge yourself to actually look her in the eye. “Not for the holidays - I mean, you just never come back. What changed?”

“I have to write a book. A kind of Christmas-themed one and, what better place to get inspiration than right here?”

“They got the twenty-first century Scrooge to write a festive children’s book?”

“Oh, shush,” she laughed, poking at your arm at the way you’d faked a gasp at her statement.

“I thought that, maybe, forcing myself to come back here would spur something on inside me, y’know?” Natasha shrugged. “This is my home. The people here gave me the happiest times of my life - the kind of things New York hasn’t given me. I thought maybe, I could find that so-called ‘Christmas magic’ here again.”

“The kind you used to see?”

“Mhm.”

“And have you found it?”

“I think so.”

–

It gave you a lot to think about. You could see that ounce of the old Natasha you knew before, in that time before it all changed. You can see that, perhaps, she truly has changed. Maybe that inner dialogue she was battling with had been defeated. You hadn’t even known it existed but seeing her now you can see that something had hurt her.

You saw the light in her eyes that you’d missed so much and things were beginning to seem that slightest bit clearer. You can’t ignore it all and forgive her, as much as you wish you could, without some form of a true explanation. An apology. A true, heartfelt, clarifying apology. You know you deserve it and now you’re letting yourself see that she deserves to be given the chance to gift you with it.

You’d been bombarded with questions after the shocked look on your friend's faces when they watched Natasha help you up from your seat. Of course, they wanted the gossip of the past twenty minutes.

“I think she’s different,” you mused. “But it’s somehow just as confusing. She seems different but I don’t know if I’m just seeing what I want to see. And then I think, if I actually should forgive her, shouldn’t I have some kind of apology to accept? Oh my god, I don’t know what I’m thinking.”

“You need to calm down,” Kate stated. “No offence,” she added with a sheepish smile.

“You do,” Wanda nodded with a laugh at the way you rolled your eyes. “You don’t have to figure it all out in one night. Let's just enjoy tonight and we can talk about it tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, you’re right. I-”

“Fancy seeing you here,” Yelena interrupted, sidling up beside you with her arm flinging over your shoulder. She, of course, was not surprised as she had been having the same run-downs from her sister. She was also a lot less merciful and spotted the ‘couples wreath making’ booth nearby and directed you in its general direction before anybody realised.

“Anybody want a go? Winners get a prize,” the man running the event announced as you approached, seemingly hoping to gain a final couple to join the others on the small stage behind him.

“These two do,” the blonde grinned, pushing you and the redhead into him with forceful hands on your backs.

“Oh- no- we’re not-”

“We have our final contestants,” he beamed, not listening to your protests whilst he guided you to your place.

“Yelena, you’re a menace to society,” Wanda uttered from where the group watched the two of you stand awkwardly.

“I’ve gotta get my entertainment from somewhere,” she shrugged with a laugh, finding great enjoyment in the way you fumbled around with the objects on the table to try and make something that resembled a holiday wreath.

“This goes here, right?” Natasha mumbled, attaching various decorations to the hoop in front of you. You only smirked at the innuendo you heard. She didn’t notice.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I mean - I’m not an expert but wreaths usually do have some kind of foliage.”

“Shut up,” she laughed, poking an elbow into your side. Wanda smiled fondly at the sight.

“I don’t like her much but they do look kinda cute together,” Monica whispered to her and she nodded in agreement.

“My sister’s an idiot but she’s not a bad person,” Yelena spoke. “She just needs to be honest, not just with herself but with our little friend up there.”

“I hope they can work it out, for both of their sakes,” Carol added. They all watched on as you laughed with each other and worked easily as you attached ornaments to the masterpiece you’d been working on.

You won, of course, and Natasha braggingly lifted the wreath above her head to show it off.

“A perfect wreath from a perfect couple,” the man smiled and you both returned it uncomfortably.

He handed you a Santa hat before wishing you well.

“You’re joking?” you laughed. “This is the prize?”

“And the wreath, of course.”

“Oh, well that was definitely worth the ten bucks we had to pay,”

“Alright, let’s go,” Natasha chuckled, guiding you towards the group before you actually did get banned for life.

“Carol, you paid for this,” you frowned, holding up the hat defeatedly. Though it was Yelena’s idea, she pushed the payment onto somebody else, as she often does.

“I dunno, I think the entertainment was worth it,” she smirked. Natasha took it from you to pull it onto your head, swiping a piece of hair out of your face with the tips of her fingers gliding over your cheek.

“And you do look pretty cute in it.”

“Whatever,” you huffed, partly in annoyance and partly to disregard the way she made your heart beat aggressively against your ribs.

“Should we head back? I’m freezing,” Kamala asked and, after a just about awkward goodbye, you parted ways for the night.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff #au: home for christmas

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aziraphales-library · 1 year ago

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first off TYSM FOR THIS ACC AHH ITS BEEN SO HELPFULL <3

do you know any fics with touch-starved Crowley struggling to get used to the amount of affection Aziraphale shows him?

anyways love you all byee

We have a #touch starved tag that you will want to check out! Here are more fics to add to the collection...

Demons need hugs too by apeiiron (NR)

The thought of losing Aziraphale, his one constant, his one love, his everything, is too much to bear. Crowley wants to hold him more than anything, but he's too intimidated by the what-ifs to try. Aziraphale did it for him.

My Dear and Only Love by Sarah_hadeschild (G)

“I like your hands,” he said, plainly. Aziraphale huffed out a laugh. “Do you?” “‘Always have.” Aziraphale regarded him for a moment as recognition dawned on him. The things was, Crowley loved to grandstand. He loved to act braver than he was— more callous. That way, when things went awry, he had no one to blame for it but himself. Aziraphale knew this. And because of it, he knew that if he didn’t look out for Crowley’s heart, then no one would. AKA Thanks to a well-timed Valentine's gift, a touch-starved Crowley is about to get everything he desires. Well, almost everything.

Charred Feathers by KannaOphelia (T)

The wings burst through, a flurry of feathers and ripping fabric. “Damn. Thought they’d be enough room. That was a Tom Ford under-vest, would have cost me eighty quid if I’d actually bought it.” “Of course you stole it, you vile fiend,” Aziraphale said automatically, staring at Crowley’s well-groomed wings. They were black, and tidy, but it wasn’t a pure, midnight black. More a very dark, almost shabby grey, for all their beautiful condition. He was beginning to have a horrible suspicion about those wings. He reached out, and very gently brushed his fingertips through one, not letting any healing power through yet. “Made it. Y’know.” Crowley mimed snapping his fingers. “You’re wearing knock-off flannels?” Aziraphale demanded, tone high with outrage. He let his other hand come to the other wing, stepping closer, as Crowley snorted with laughter. Aziraphale had been right. Crowley’s feathers were smooth and perfect and undamaged, and at the same time, they were charred black by fire.

The Touch of Your Hand by EdosianOrchids901 (T)

After a moment of casual contact in Rome, Crowley realizes that he’s touch-starved. He dreams about holding Aziraphale’s hand or—even better—hugging him. But Aziraphale is an angel, and Crowley is a demon. And demons don’t deserve hand holding or hugs…do they?

Velocity by dragon_with_a_teacup (T)

Aziraphale can sense Affection whenever that emotion is near. Yet he has never looked for it within himself whenever Crowley is near. It should be impossible, an angel feeling such things for a demon; why, then, would it have occurred to him to look? Why would he have thought to analyze his bond with Crowley—a bond forged throughout the centuries through a convenient work arrangement—for anything beyond mere camaraderie? Yet now, his favorite angelic ability turns inward for the first time, and at last, he sees: He’s been such a fool.

An Exercise In Trust by organizechaos (T)

It’s been eleven years since Armageddon and Heaven and Hell have been conspiring to restart it. Meanwhile, Aziraphale and Crowley moved in together, got married, and are overall really happy. When their former bosses finally confront them — attacking with an object that will take centuries worth of memories from the ineffable pair — something goes a little wrong in the process… Crowley takes the full hit. (Basically, it’s just about +37,000 words worth of Crowley being a confused mess at why Aziraphale’s finally reciprocating his love)

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #touch starved #mod d

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jtl-fics · 1 year ago

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Fluent Freshman - Part 40

The Winter Banquet.

Where the Spring Championship announcements happen for Collegiate Exy. A formal event meant to allow the ERC to showcase how their stars weren’t just brutes on the court. Look at how beautiful and handsome they all were. Look at how they danced together. Look at the smiles and laughter and-

Wait.

No.

Put that down.

Who had the great idea to put the Jackals next to the Terrapins? Things have been tense between the teams since the Captain of the Terrapins stole the Captain of the Jackal’s date during the Fall Banquet!

I thought we all agreed that there would never be any more steak knives! What was the point of paying for all the pre-cut tenderloins if we’re just going to give them steak knives?!

Really gotta find an intern to pin this fiasco on.

Oh great the Foxes are leaving! Did we even get a picture of Kevin Day in his suit? Fuck it’s going to be a two intern firing kind of day isn’t it.

Someone get an eye on the Ravens before they try and grab some hapless idiot and sacrifice him to revive Riko Moriyama. If there’s even one more damn tabloid with a blurry photo of ‘Riko Moriyama’ to prove that his death was faked then heads will roll.

Honestly, the biopic that some Edgar Allan Film student is making about him seems pretty interesting. The ERC just wishes people would stop taking pics of the ‘lead actor’ and sending it to tabloids as proof that the King hadn’t died.

Fuck, the Foxes left before we got any decent pictures.

Well just great.

You’d think that after all these years of the Foxes leaving early they’d have learned that getting pictures as they arrive is the most important thing.

Oh thank god it looks like the Trojans are starting to mediate the fight. You can always count on good ol’ Jeremy.

Fuck.

A Raven got too close to Jean Moreau and now Jeremy Knox has punched a Backliner. Great. The Trojans have formed ranks around Moreau but the kid’s just too damn tall. Someone has hit him in the head with an especially saucy meatball, he’s not injured, just confused. The Trojans are acting like it’s a gunshot he just took to the head.

The refreshment table just seemed to collapse in on itself and god wasn’t that just an allegory for this entire damn evening.

Anita Flores sighs as she watches yet another banquet go down in a riot. Honestly, she doesn’t know why they think these will end up differently. She finds herself often missing when she used to coordinate banquets for football teams.

She sighs and thinks about her least favorite interns.

Alex had been getting a bit too cocky lately. He’d make a good sacrifice.

***

(Three hours earlier)

The Palmetto State Foxes were on their way to the Winter Banquet. From what FF understood it was categorically always a 90% chance of a shitshow. Honestly FF was surprised that the percentage was that low.

There was a general tenseness in the air surrounding it that went beyond the Banquet’s propensity to become a fight.

This year the Winter Banquet was going to be held up at the Binghamton Bearcat’s stadium. The nation knew the story from the news and FF knew the story from both that and from the Foxes themselves who were there at the time in bits and pieces.

Captain Neil had been kidnapped from this stadium and then he’d been tortured. FF hadn’t even been on the team when it had happened and he was anxious about Captain Neil going anywhere near the stadium.

“He was just…he was just gone.” Matt had said, “Neil was gone and Kevin said that he was probably dead when Andrew got back with his phone.” He continued as the two of them sat up late in the living room of the dorm one night back in early October.

“I thought Andrew was going to kill me y’know.” Kevin had said bottle in hand as FF tried to help him up the stairs because apparently he would 100% guarantee vomit if he was in the nausea box. “I thought that maybe I deserved it, since I didn’t help Neil. I just let him walk to his death.” He said and despite assurances that he wouldn’t puke FF’s shoes did not make it through that journey unscathed.

“We called…we called everywhere.” Nicky had stared up at the ceiling of his hospital room, “Andrew was adamant that he was still alive even though Kevin kept saying he was dead and that dead was the nicest thing he could hope for. I thought that was a terrible thing to say.” Nicky curled up closer to him.

“I told you, Andrew dragged me like I was nothing to get to Neil. I don’t think he even noticed the guns.” Wymack said to Abby as the two sat on the back porch during Aras’ going away party. “His eyes were on Neil.” he gestures towards where Andrew was watching Captain Neil wrestle with Matt.

“He looked like shit.” Aaron had said unable to stomach a diagram of different degrees of burn in his medical book. “At least he was alive.” He adds.

“A hero.” Andrew’s voice had been what could be considered teasing from Andrew, “Someone who looks like her.” he had said touching Captain Neil’s burn scars as they drove away from the stadium after coming back to pick FF up.

Captain Neil had come to him the day before they were set to drive out, “Take me somewhere no one will find me for an hour.” FF hadn’t quite understood what Captain Neil meant, he never hid anywhere. People just failed to realize where he was.

“Ok.” he says instead of trying to explain because being unnoticed means no one hid codes from him.

The roof of the Library wasn’t that much different from the roof of the Tower, only that it was taller and bigger. Captain Neil had shut his phone off after texting something, likely to Andrew, and then put it into his pocket.

FF settled on the roof, sat with his back against a heating vent to stay warm. Captain Neil settled next to him and they sat in silence. It felt like back at the start of this where Captain Neil and Andrew would come find him and just sit in silence.

It was nice. He had missed-

“They act like the stadium is the thing that kidnapped me.” Captain Neil says.

Oh okay, quiet time is over apparently.

FF doesn’t say anything, figuring that nothing he could say right now would be the right thing and maybe Captain Neil just needs to talk through some stuff.

“That stadium is where I thought I’d have my last good memory.” Captain Neil explains, “I’m not scared of it and yet Andrew’s acting like I’ll die if I’m left alone for more than 2 seconds while we’re there. Every time we go there they all act like the most important thing in the world is that I get on that bus at the end of the night.” Captain Neil explains.

FF does remember how Andrew had grabbed Captain Neil after their October game up in Binghamton. How Captain Neil had complained bitterly but had gone after looking at Andrew.

“He’s dead!” Captain Neil exclaimed and FF couldn’t help but look over at the entrance and hoped no one heard them. “He’s dead! I watched him get shot! He can’t kidnap me again!” Captain Neil continued to yell and FF couldn’t help but worry that they’d be heard below, or worse bother a student trying to study below.

FF reached out and touched Captain Neil’s arm and bright blue eyes turned to him, “We’re on a library. Don’t yell.” FF said and Captain Neil looked at him incredulously.

Then he laughed. He laughed and laughed and FF was worried that he’d gone and broken his Captain.

He suddenly felt bad about his own bout of hysterical laughter a while back.

“Thanks Smith.” Captain Neil had said with a smile.

They had sat up there until it was dark and Andrew had started calling FF’s phone and Captain Neil took the call to say he was coming back.

Now they’re on the bus, dressed nicely, and on their way up to Binghamton’s stadium. Captain Neil and Andrew are hidden in the far back of the bus with Andrew looking far more like a watchdog than anything else the closer they got to their destination.

Captain Neil had seemed largely resigned to this treatment at this point. Eventually they were at the stadium and shown to their seats. They were sat across from the Trojans and it seemed like the rest of the team was quite pleased with that.

“Smith!” Captain Jeremy Knox is smiling at him, “Nice to see you again bud, nice name change too.” he says.

“It’s nice to see you too, Captain Jeremy.” FF says and doesn’t notice how Captain Neil’s head whips around to look at him.

“You two know each other?” Nicky asks looking between the two of them with excitement.

“Of course! We offered Smith a spot at the USC Trojans.” Captain Jeremy says and FF feels his stomach cramp at the memory.

That had been terrifying.

Coach Rheman and Captain Jeremy wanted to sit down to make their offer with his parents. He was still 17 and unable to sign anything legal without their permission. He’d tried to decline and move past them and Captain Jeremy had put the final nail in the coffin at the time for any thought that he could go to college on the power of his apparent Exy capabilities.

“I saw in your file that you have brothers! USC always gives a second look at student applicants who already have siblings in the university. You could go to school with your brothers!” he had smiled brightly like he wasn’t issuing FF one of the most terrifying threats he’d ever heard in his entire life.

He had given the firmest ‘No thank you, I’m not interested in playing Exy in college.’ he could and was running to his Grandma’s to breath into a bag for twenty minutes.

“I see you changed your mind about playing Exy in college.” Captain Jeremy said with the same smile that still feels like a threat.

“Coach Wymack and Captain Dan were convincing.” he says and looks to see if there’s any way he can move further away from Captain Jeremy’s attention.

“Can I ask what convinced you to be a Fox?” Captain Jeremy asks, “I’m always trying to see what support we should be offering. I found out last year that we missed out on Andrew because we didn’t offer spots to Aaron or Nicky. I thought since you had brothers that’d be the thing that got you.” Captain Jeremy leans across the table but stops when he notices the Foxes all tense. “Whoa, what’s up?” he asks.

Jean Moreau sighs from next to Captain Jeremy, “Not everyone wants to go to college with their family, Jeremy.” Jean says, “Did it not cross your mind that he changed his entire name?” he asks with a raised brow.

Jeremy blinks, “Oh,” he looks at FF, “I guess that wasn’t the right thing to offer.” he says leaning back in his chair.

“I guess I should thank you for offering that?” Nicky says wryly before turning to look at FF, “You look better in orange anyways.” he says.

“Thank you Nicky.” FF returns loyally.

The banquet gets started shortly afterwards. Food is served. The bar is opened. People are talking. FF finds himself relaxing the longer the conversations around him go on. Matt is talking with a backliner on the Trojan line named Todd in good cheer. Captain Neil, Kevin, and Jean are all talking about the latest updates with Ichirou in French with the occasional gesture towards FF. Jean Moreau looks at him with a raised eyebrow but gives him a single nod when Captain Neil explains what happened.

Jeremy is chatting with Jack and even Jack was finding it hard to maintain his usual level of rudeness in the face of such unbridled positive energy. Nicky was talking with Katelyn and Alvarez. Aaron was chatting with a fellow med student college athlete who was an offensive dealer.

It was shaping up to be a good night.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

#Fluent Freshman AU #Jeremy Knox essentially threatening FF on accident #With a huge smile #Fucking kills me #Winter Banquet getting into full swing #Ya'll know where it's heading but not all the parts that happen #Foxes are on high alert #No one likes Neil being in Binghamton #There was definitely an all-hands meeting about how Neil is not allowed to go anywhere alone #That if a security guard approaches Neil you treat that security guard like an active threat #Nicky just thinks it's Andrew wanting an excuse to hold his BF's hand all night #Andrew: “Smith you're on covert operations. Keep an eye out for threats.”#FF: “Aye aye Captain.”#Neil: “OH SO NOW HE'S A CAPTAIN TOO? WHAT'S NEXT?!”#Neil is butt hurt about the whole “Captain Jeremy” thing #He could accept it for Dan #But JEREMY?#Neil's gonna need a lot of TLC to get over this betrayal TBFH #In adult news #My closing is next week Friday!#Wooo #I really speedran the whole owning property thing #Thank you bullshit luck #AFTG #AFTG AU #AFTG OC #Andreil #Wow 40 parts on this thing #Still wild #Thanks for joining me on this ride

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catghoul31 · 3 days ago

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Veteran's Day

It's almost completely dark out, and Logan insists on a car ride with Wade to the park... even though the park is completely closed. Whatever could he be up to?

For @poolverine-week day 3: Road Trip!

No CWs this time, just canon-typical stuff

Read it under the cut or on ao3!

Wade had no idea what Logan was doing. He’d insisted they got in the car that evening, and Logan was driving them somewhere- but where?

The expression on Logan’s face was impossible to read, even for Wade. That same focused scowl he had on when whatever he was doing wasn’t anyone’s business- but it was his business, because for all he knew, he could be heading for a pit of lava to chuck Wade into once and for all! Had he really been that mad that he’d broken the sink by slamming his head against it again?

…He didn’t seem that angry when they’d gotten them both in the car, though. Silent and mysterious? Oh, like always! Logan wouldn’t be Logan without that broody exterior all the middle-aged women fawned over- but he hadn’t indicated that he’d done anything wrong at all. Hell, Wolvie was usually the first to tell him if he did!

Still, the thought did nothing to calm Wade’s racing heart. Nobody ever just insisted on taking Wade out somewhere alone with them because they liked him at all… Almost every single time since he’d lost Vanessa, stuff like this only ever happened when somebody really wanted his head- and not in the fun way!

So why would Logan be any different??

Once his eyes had adjusted to the dark a bit more, Wade looked out the window, trying to distract himself from the tense silence that had settled over them. He realized, then, that these roads weren’t as unfamiliar as he thought. It sorta seemed like he was taking them to that park they’d already been to a few times… It was large enough that they could wander off deep into the forest and safely spar without horribly traumatizing any poor souls! Something about fighting with each other had become so thrilling for them, and there was almost no malice inspiring their fights anymore… and no matter how far out they wandered, Logan always seemed to know the way out.

But the park was closed right now!! It was Veteran’s Day or some shit, and that made the government decide that nobody could enjoy nature on their day off for some fucking reason- so no, this didn’t solve Wade’s great mystery!

Once they made it into the parking lot- or more accurately, just up against the closed gate that kept them from actually driving into the parking lot, Wade gave Logan a few seconds to tell him what he was doing- or, y’know, turn around because the park was closed, so he wasn’t getting any walkies today- sorry, peanut!

A few seconds passed, and Logan didn’t speak, nor did he turn the car around. Those seconds became minutes, and- oh, fuck this, Wade was starting to get really impatient with the lack of quotation marks in this story. “Soooo… what’s going on here? A reverse kidnapping?? Not that I don’t probably deserve that- but you kinda just shoved me into this car without telling me anything and I wanna know if you called another guy here to help you, so that maybe I can prepare my-“

“Shut the fuck up, Wade.”

Logan’s harsh snarl made him shut up, and he winced as he prepared for the inevitable clawing- but none came. Wade opened his eyes, only to see Logan glance at the hands in his lap pensively. They were clenched in fists, and his brows were furrowed in what Wade thought was… guilt? Great, now Wade was worrying about this fuzzy bastard while they were sitting in dead silence! He shifted a bit in his chair, uncomfortable with the complete lack of stimulation here. If Logan didn’t hurry up and say something, he swore to God he was gonna pull out his phone and start watching Family Guy funny moments right in front of him!!

Logan took a deep breath, letting it out as a loud, frustrated growl before forcefully burying his face in his hands. Wade tilted his head innocently, having no clue what he could’ve done to bring about this reaction in Logan, but wanting to act like it was his fault anyways. Anything to live in Wolvie’s head rent-free, baby!

“…Fuck. What the fuck is wrong with me,” Logan muttered in that wonderfully pathetic tone of his. The one he always liked using when he really wanted something, but didn’t want to admit it because ohh I’m so awful, I don’t deserve nice things!! Needless to say, Wade was thoroughly interested now…

“I don’t know, Wolvie. What the fuck is wrong with you? You gotta help me out here, peanut,” he responded, not at all reacting to the glare that earned him. Logan’s claws even poked out a little at that one!! The same way they had at that bar he’d found him in… God, he was such a cutie pie. Still weird as hell right now, though!!

Logan sighed heavily, lowering his hands as a drop of blood trailed between his knuckles. Retracting his claws, he pointedly glanced at Wade, his pupils unmoving as he stared directly at his eyes. They were on him, he promised!! “…I don’t know what’s gotten into me, bub. But I can’t… fuck- I can’t live with myself without at least trying to tell you this,” he began, breaking eye contact with Wade as his nerves seemed to overtake him. “I just… I need to apologize, first.”

…Wait, what? Logan?? Apologize?? To… me? For what??? “Wh… I-I don’t know why you’d need to apologize- unless you forgot the park was closed, in which case-“

“WADE.” Logan shouted, forcing his face to look at him with one hand. “Mouth shut. Eyes on me. Fucking listen.”

Oh. Uhm… yes, Daddy? Wade definitely wasn’t blushing at all. But, of course, he did exactly what he was told, because Logan was nice enough to give him very clear directions… On a side note, he still had no idea what ADHD meant. Not that that had anything to do with this.

Logan took a deep, deep breath, before finally speaking his goddamn truth.

“…I don’t know why you’d decide to keep me here. After I tried to kill you god knows how many times. After I lied about how worthless you were in that fucking car.” Lied? Since when? “After I… nearly made the same mistake that killed my family with you. And Laura, and those other people, whoever the fuck they were. God damn it, I was so drunk I can’t even remember,” he interjected, sadly chuckling in that heartbreakingly lovely way that made Wade just want to compress him into a cube and hold him tenderly. This was definitely a normal way of thinking about your friend, right?

“…But it doesn’t matter. I wanted to abandon you so badly, when… when you were the first person to think I was anything but the awful man I am in God knows how long.” But… but he wasn’t awful!! And he didn’t abandon him!! Wade already had so much to say, but Logan needed him to listen, so that’s what he’d do. “I still don’t know why you think that… but I guess I’m here now. And, just… fuck. Wade… I- god, I can’t fucking- you’re… you’re the closest friend I think I’ve ever had. Any moment I spend away from you now makes me want to throw up and I don’t know why. I’m…” Ohh no. Wolvie’s eyes were getting a little shimmery now… Wade internally began to panic, having no fucking idea if he’d help Logan at all by just being here. Was he secretly making it worse?? He was, wasn’t he, maybe he should just wander off into the woods and die-

“I’m sorry, Wade. You’re not… I mean, I know you can’t, but-“ He coughed a bit, one stray tear escaping his eye. “-you’re not gonna die alone. And I shouldn’t have brought your ex into that spiel of mine, either- but it’s even more proof that… Wade. I don’t fucking deserve this…” Was it just Wade, or was Logan’s face a lot closer to his than it was earlier? And… why did he look so handsome right now? See, normally, that’d be a joke. And maybe Wade should just act like it was. Him and his silly cancer brain!!

“I don’t deserve this world, or your apartment or that fucking dog, but I need it. I need it, and…” For a minute, Wade considered looking around for a paper bag in here. Logan was breathing pretty hard, and- shit, was he crying??

“…I need you. So please, just… Tell me you don’t need me right now, bub. Don’t make this harder than it has to be- I can’t… if I’m with you here a moment longer, I won’t be able to survive a world without you anymore. If… if you don’t want me around for that long, I’ll drive us to the TVA right now, and you can tell them to send me back. I don’t care, I just-“

Wade’s lips were on his before Logan could say another word.

…Yeah. If that comment about Logan being handsome earlier was funny, Wade’s reflexes decided to be fucking hilarious and just make him… do that. He lingered for maybe a few seconds- way longer than he probably should’ve- and pulled away much slower than he definitely should’ve. Something about that just… lit Wade’s soul on fire. As cheesy as that set of words sounded.

That being thought, Wade knew that the claws were gonna come out soon, so he might as well get the ukulele out while he still could. “…Logan, I am so fucking sorry, I don’t know what came over me-“

SNIKT. Ahh, there it was! Wade let out a shriek of agony when Logan stabbed him right through the chest. God, that look on his face was intense- quickly, Wade tensed all of his muscles, completely ready for a second round of fighting in a car with Logan alone in the dark by themselves-

-but then Logan- Logan KISSED HIM BACK?? Wade’s brain immediately shut down, unable to come up with any more witty commentary to add to this story. He whined, his hands grabbing Logan’s neck and pulling him closer without him even noticing. This one was longer, deeper, and Logan groaned into it as his body seemed to melt into Wade’s. Their tongues even began to slide against each other after a while, sending Wade to another dimension entirely- one where there didn’t have to be any baggage holding them back from just doing this all the time. Just showing each other love in the most wholesome or filthy ways they could think of. Holy fuck, it felt nice…

After what felt like forever to Wade, Logan pulled back, his eyes blown wide in shock just as his were. They seemed almost unwilling to believe what had just happened, even though his claws were still embedded into Wade’s chest, not planning on letting go anytime soon.

Some fucked up part of Wade didn’t want him to. Just wanted to keep those sharp adamantium blades inside of him forever.

After a moment of neither Wade nor Logan making any moves, just staring at each other as their breaths mingled, Wade finally spoke up. “…That answer your question, peanut?” he asked, smirking slightly. Looks like Deadpool’s still got it, huh?

Logan shuddered slightly, before his claws forced themselves out of Wade as they retracted. He took a moment to scan Wade up and down, still trying to verify that this was even real. Almost imperceptibly, he nodded- nodded at Wade, over what he’d said holy fuck?? Yeah, this was happening, okay- before taking his seatbelt off, scooting closer to Wade, and…

Needless to say, they had their third kiss. And their fourth. And fifth. And however many more before they even thought about driving back home. Because fuck public indecency laws, they needed each other right now. As badly as a pair of horny college students did. Wade knew one thing for sure- the trees sure got a fucking show that night!!

#don't question the gif choice okay #the one i wanted was NONEXISTENT so i just found one that matched the vibes kinda #it's kinda late but god i've been going through it #here it is though!!#poolverine week 2024 #wade wilson #deadpool #logan howlett #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #deadclaws #poolverine fanfiction #fanfiction #gale's writing

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anisespice · 1 year ago

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tall fem reader?

tall fem reader!!! thanks for the request, anon :)))

hq ver.

pairing: college!tr x tall!fem!reader

warnings: mature language, MDI, suggestive language, reader mentioned in chifuyu’s but not present, mild mild mild cat-call in hanma’s - just crack overall, honestly lol feel free to let me know if i missed anything!

notes: planned to make this a whole x whoever you want type beat, BUT figured just doing a headcanon broken into different heights would be more efficient lol plus MORE CONTENT - gonna make a pt. 2 with some hq men, but for now — t.rev! :))) hope you enjoy <3 !!

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @illegalspacecow

small — ♡

When it came down to a relationship, MIKEY wasn’t shallow enough to let physical appearances stop him from pursuing someone he wanted—He liked what he liked, fuck what anybody else had to say about it. The blonde never had issue with your drastic height difference, seeing it as more of a perk than anything else. His best friend was tall, so why not his girlfriend? It just meant whenever he walked down the street, he’d look like a total badass with his two attractive beanpoles at his side.

However, a lot of the buzz on campus mostly centered around Mikey’s height rather than yours. It never bothered him, but it certainly got you tight anytime someone tried to uplift you whilst putting him down in the process.

“A shrimp like him wouldn’t know how to handle all that leg of yours, mama. Lemme take you out tonight, show you a good time with someone who’s more on your level, whaddya say?”

Barf.

Mikey would merely give them a dead-stare; unbothered king. You, on the other hand, didn’t hesitate to knock them down a size or two.

“First of all, your busted-looking ass could never be on the same level as me. Second of all, where my man lacks in height, he makes up for elsewhere, so he handles me very well, thank you. You’re probably the type to just shove it in without any sort of technique, thinking that’s enough to get a girl to finish. My man won’t bust once until I’ve came up to four times, the fuck can you offer me besides being six-foot? Hm? That’s right, not a damn thing. Remember that next time you talk shit, dirt-neck.”

Read him straight to filth. And God forbid Mikey had his gang with him anytime some scrub tried to spit game, best believe they’d dog the guy until he scurried away in humiliation. It always filled him with great adoration for you wherever you checked someone in his defense, your entire relationship giving off the same energy as that one meme with Kevin Hart’s character being protectively held by the lady. It’d been put in the groupchat a number of times just to tease the delinquent, but he’s unashamed at the fact you could easily pick his ass up. If anything, he was all for it, even requested piggy-back rides from you more often than his right-hand man—Draken’s back appreciates your sacrifice.

Now let someone try and spit game at him.

“Yeah, normally guys feel emasculated when their girlfriend’s taller than them, y’know? I’m surprised you don’t, though. No offense, [_____] just doesn’t seem like a good fit for you. I mean, must be tough to lay in the same bed, or even put her in your lap without feeling smothered or crushed. Wouldn’t it be much better to have someone a little smaller-”

“She could sit on me until my pelvis collapsed, and I would thank her. And, full offense, if I was single, still wouldn’t pick you even if you put a gun to my head. Keep my girl’s name out your mouth, you don’t deserve to breathe the same air let alone be on first name basis. Now, quit wasting my time—Do you have the notes from yesterday’s lecture or not?”

You don’t play about him. He don’t play about you. Period.

And as far as sharing a bed, cuddling or otherwise, Mikey was a sucker for being held like a damn squishmellow. Didn’t matter if you took up most of the leg space, dude would be wrapped around you like a python, so snug and warm you’d be lucky to even escape his grasp for food or the bathroom. Once he’s sleep, he’s SLEEP, and then you become the squishmellow.

“Mikey, I will be right back, turn me loose-”

“Zzzzzz…” out like a light. Drooling and everything, face smushed up against your boobs, just content. You’d think he’d been working the graveyard shift. And God forbid he ended up laying on top of you, sprawled out starfish style…you for sure weren’t going anywhere then.

Even if you expressed this dilemma after he woke up, the blonde merely yawned. “Just pick me up and carry me with you…”

“You’re smoking crack if you think I’m gonna haul your ass with me into the bathroom. I love you and all that, but we ain’t at the stage where I can comfortably use it with you in room.”

He shrugged. “Mm. Guess you don’t have to go that bad. G’night.”

“Mikey.”

“Shh, I’m sleeping…”

A gremlin. But, your gremlin. ♡

—

medium — ♡

CHIFUYU still can’t believe he bagged you, frfr.

There’d be moments where you’d catch him staring, as if he figured you’d disappear the second he took his eyes off you.

It’d get a little creepy sometimes, but it was endearing all the same. He wasn’t the shortest guy, though he wasn’t the tallest either, and standing next to you was a constant reminder of that. Not that he held any resentment toward you for it, he absolutely loved your height. However, there was always some form of insecurity that would resurface anytime someone called attention to it.

And today, his best friend and co-worker, Baji, would not only be the culprit, but an unlikely source of reassurance.

While they were stocking up inventory, the ravenette couldn’t help but notice the stool his friend was using to put a box in a particular high place. Wearing a mischievous grin, Baji pointed. “Oi. You should take that home with you. That way your girl won’t have to strain her neck when she kisses you.” He snorted, thinking he was the funniest man alive.

Normally, something that lame wouldn’t phase him, but guess today he was feeling a little more sensitive. With a grunt, the former blonde coolly spoke, “Maybe you should shut the hell up, and stock the damn shelves.”

“Whoa. What’s up your ass?” Baji furrowed his brows, walking over to lightly kick at the stool’s metal leg, making it jerk. Chifuyu sharply gasped, latching onto an empty shelf to steady himself. He exhaled, relieved, then shot a glare. But, Baji wasn’t perturbed.

Chifuyu sighed. “Nothing. I’m fine...”

“Fine my left nut. You don’t get short like that unless there’s something on your mind,” not the best way to phrase that, but at least he was genuine. Chifuyu rolled his eyes, coming down off the stool to brush past the ravenette.

“Not in the mood, alright?”

Baji was left standing there, dumbfounded.

The entire vibe had been thrown on its head, and he didn’t understand why. Awkwardly, he went back to assorting through the contents within the nearest box, bottom lip stuck out in thought as he briefly glanced at Chifuyu’s back mere feet away. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch. He knew not to pry, but curiosity always won gold in the end. Baji replayed the conversation in his head, using his impeccable deductive reasoning to draw his own conclusions.

And then suddenly, an epiphany.

Without a hint of warning, the ravenette quickly walked over and slapped his friend in the middle of his back. Chifuyu yelped, nearly dropping the box in his hands before whipping around to fix Baji with a wide, incredulous look. “T-The hell?!”

“So. She dumped ya, huh? [Sigh] Look man, don’t beat yourself up, a lot of guys fumble the bag from time to time. If ya need a shoulder to cry on…don’t use mine, but ‘tora might let you-”

“Hah?? What are you—[_____] didn’t dump me, dumbass!”

Baji blinked. “Oh. My bad, jus’ figured that’s why you’re in your feelings.”

“And you thought the best thing to do was to hit me, then tell me to cry on someone else?” Chifuyu squinted when the arsonist gave a shrug. He sighed again, carefully setting the box down. “It’s not about [______]. Well, technically. The other day we had lunch with a few of her friends. They apparently have been dying to meet me for some time. And things were going great until…”

Chifuyu trailed off, leaving Baji in suspense.

He grunted. “‘till what? Jus’ say it, bet it isn’t even that bad-”

“They were shocked to see her with someone who barely came up to her elbows.”

Silence filled the storage room. Chifuyu continued to keep his eyes trained elsewhere while his counterpart merely stared for what felt like hours, but only seconds. And then…

“Pfft.”

Chifuyu looked up and sneered, blushing furiously as he threw a chew toy from one of the boxes at the fiend. “Hey! Don’t laugh! Do you have any idea how humiliating that is??”

Baji, to his dismay, effortless caught the toy, even squeaking it a couple times just to annoy him more. Taking a moment to collect himself, the ravenette still wore his sharp grin as he spoke through airy giggles. “So? Who cares what they have to say?”

“I do! They’re [_____]’s friends, everyone knows their approval is just as crucial to the relationship as the parents…if not more.”

“Mm. Pretty sure you’re overthinking this.”

Chifuyu gave a sarcastic laugh, “Pretty sure I’m not.”

“Alright. Lemme school ya on how women operate when they get in their little cliques.” Baji dusted off his hands, missing the eye roll the former blonde gave once again. With his pointer held high, he declared, “If majority of the friend group is taken, they’re just being protective. No doubt they’ve been there for every heartbreak, every fight, ‘nd jus’ don’t think anyone’s good enough for [_____]. Jus’ gotta keep your head down, and don’t give ‘em any reason to be weary. Simple.”

With a slow, skeptical nod, Chifuyu pursed his lips at his fellow delinquent. It wasn’t unlikely, so at least he’s correct in that regard. However, the line between facts and feelings began to blur the further Baji continued.

“But, if majority of them are single, then you’re screwed either way —Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.”

“Wow, that’s so helpful. You sure schooled me, Baji-san.”

“‘m serious. You gotta watch out for the single ones in the friend group. They’re all passive aggressive, try to get under your skin, push your buttons. Then, before you know it, they’re in your head, get you so worked up only for them to turn around and play victim, saying you can’t take a joke, and now you’re the fucking bad guy! Classic textbook emotional manipulation—Don’t fall for it. ‘cause they’ve got it down to a science, I’m telling ya.”

Chifuyu’s eyes widen at the sudden intensity that overtook the room, taking a small step back when Baji jabbed his finger at him, as if he were warning him of some conspiracy. “Uh…you good?”

Baji took a moment’s pause. Then, he cleared his throat.

“Sorry, got a little carried away. All’s I’m saying is, don’t sweat. Lotta chick’s pick on the best friend’s new fling, t’s like a war tactic—Poking at our fragile egos ‘nd all that. But, seems like you did fine, otherwise you’d be crying all over ‘tora right now.” Baji shrugged.

Chifuyu blinked, now his turn to be dumbfounded. “Huh.”

He frowned. “‘Huh’? I jus’ gave you some killer, black-pilled insight on cracking their code of conduct, and all I get is a dry-ass ‘huh’? Tsk. I’m charging you next time, goddamn freeloader.”

Chifuyu glared, but softened soon after. After taking his words into consideration, the former blonde couldn’t help but feel lighter. “It’s just... didn’t expect that to actually make me feel better.”

Baji scrunched his nose. “The fuck’s that supposed to mean? Oi, don’t ever doubt my knowledge. It may be selective, but I got it when it counts. Besides, thanks to me you won’t take that stool home after all.”

“I wasn’t planning to take it home in the first place.”

“Right. Keep telling yourself that, elbows.”

“Hey!”

—

large — ♡

“Hey, baby, those legs go all the way up?”

It was moments like this where you detested not being able to blend in with the average crowd. Attention always seemed to gravitate toward you no matter how hard you tried to avoid it, like being covered in honey while trying to walk in front of a herd of bears. And it didn’t help that you were currently wearing heels tonight, accentuating your legs even more in the little, black cocktail dress you sported. You were headed to a party a mutual friend of yours was throwing, and you wanted to surprise your man by wearing the new Jimmy Choos he bought you, knowing how much he loved how your legs with the extra height on them—Evidently, so did the prowling degenerate on the streets.

You had elected to ignore them. HANMA seemed to have other plans as he came to a complete stop in his tracks, slowly turning around to walk up on the moron who had the nerve to open his mouth. Low, golden eyes gazed down at the waste of space, face calm but a murderous aura oozed off him like pheromone, suffocating the slimy bastard into submission as he attempted to shrink away. But, he wasn’t about to let him get away so easily.

A wide, eerie grin spread across his face. “Could’ve sworn I just heard you cat-call my girl right in front of me. But, you wouldn’t be stupid enough to do that. Right?”

The guy nervously looked back for reinforcements but his buddies were already long gone. Hanma’s grin immediately dissolved from his face, kissing his teeth before grabbing the guy by the front of his collar and twisting. “Fuckin’ hate repeating myself.”

Hanma wound his arm back, dead set on knocking the guy into an early grave until you intervened at the last second. By grabbing onto the balled up fist, you brought it to your lips to place a tender kiss on the inked skin. You felt his muscles relax, but he still held the offender by his shirt, only slightly playing attention to you cooing in his ear.

“Baby, you promised no fighting tonight, remember?”

“I know, doll, but this fucker,” he shook the guy around in his tight grasp, unhinged grin making its appearance once more at the sound of him blubbering, “deserves to have his shit rocked for even looking at you. I’m just gonna teach ‘em a little lesson about manners, that’s all. I’ll be quick.”

You scoffed, “You and I both know you don’t do quick.”

Hanma snickered. “First time for everything, right?”

“Shuji.”

Tugging on his arm, you were able to redirect all of his focus onto you, sinister eyes melting into sweet caramel as his pupils dilated the second they locked on yours. It always did something to him whenever you came up to eye-level. Sure, you were already pretty tall but the heels nearly had you towering him. It gave him a weird sensation, one that made him want to drop everything and worship you like the deity you were. Especially in situations like this.

Hanma felt like the smaller one for once. It drove him insane.

You fixed him a stern look. “Drop him.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, he discarded the guy onto the pavement like an old can, wild eyes eagerly watching you and waiting for your next request. Taking his free hand into yours, interlacing your fingers, you led the rest of the way by pulling him from the nobody now cowering near a bush, no doubt rethinking his life choices while you kept onward to your destination. You didn’t get all spruced up to not be seen tonight, and you’ll be damned if any more time got wasted on some loser he’d put in a coma after one hit. After a short moment of silence, you expected Hanma to be mad at you for not letting him knock someone’s teeth loose. But when you glanced back at him, you should’ve known you’d be greeted with absolute smugness as you shook your head in mirth.

You elected to ignore the obvious tent in his pants…but he’d surely plan for you to do otherwise later on.

#🍁allspice #🍁wasabi #CALLING ALL THEE STALLIONS 🗣️#*posts and runs*#tokyorev #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers #tokyorev x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev headcanons #tr x reader #manjiro sano #matsuno chifuyu #hanma shuji #mikey x reader #chifuyu x reader #hanma x reader

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