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androgynouswordsmyth · 3 years ago

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hi i just stumbled upon your blog and i wanna just say that i love your writing!!!!!! you’re really talented! if you want to, could i request a fluffy getting together fic/drabble/hc (whatever you want lol) osamu x a nonbinary and asexual reader? if not that’s okay too anyways i love you and i hope you have an amazing day🥺💖

Pairing: Osamu x non-binary & asexual reader Content warning: fluffy, slight angst in the beginning, friends to lovers, mentions of bullying, prejudice against gender identity, and sexual orientation. A/N: My only regret is not getting this out to you faster! You’re honestly the sweetest person and I hope this fic brightens your day the way your request really brightened mine! There wasn’t a whole lot of direction other than you wanted Osamu and the reader to get together, so I hope the tone and pacing sit right with you 🥰I love you too! Enjoy! 💖

He didn’t think he was ever going to hear from you again, so when Osamu Miya received your call unexpectedly last weekend… needless to say he was shocked. “Osamu, it’s me.” He almost dropped his mug of coffee over the sink at the sound of your voice. You still had his number? He blinked a few several times, making sure he was entirely awake and this isn’t some weird fever dream. “Y/n?” He couldn’t remember the last time you two had actually seen each other. His mind goes back to high school, where times had perhaps been simpler, for him at least. Osamu realized life for you had been more challenging in high school, you were one of the only openly queer kids at Inarizaki High and though he thought that made you brave, he realized it had to be challenging for you as well. Being open made you a target for bullying, something that never seemed to phase you. Osamu realized it did, more than you ever wanted others to realize. He regretted never making himself more available. Never sticking up for you in times of need. His own inaction disappointed him, and he was convinced you wouldn’t want to spend time with someone who wouldn’t come to their defense anyways. “How’s it going?” You laugh at his informality, even when he’s surprised he still manages to make you laugh as he did in high school. You two catch up, and you tell him about how you traveled abroad for college and got a job in the same city as your university. For someone who didn’t bother to move out of his hometown, he couldn’t help but be impressed by your adventurous spirit. “So I was wondering if you wanted to meet up for coffee and catch up? I’m coming back home.” “Oh, how come?” “Well don’t act so excited,” you tease. “I asked to be transferred and my work agreed. I miss my friends and family.” “Coffee sounds good.” “Great, I’ll text you later. You better have a good coffee spot in mind.” After the call, you two texted back and forth for days leading up to your meeting. Instead of coffee, Osamu invited you to his restaurant. Asamu was right when he chastised his brother about the decision. It was a bit of a flex, he wanted to show off his business, but it wasn’t just shameless self-promotion. He wanted to cook for you. Good food made by his hands. Osamu wasn’t necessarily open with his feelings a lot of the time, but he had always cooked for girls he dated in the past, and he felt there was some intimacy in watching someone eat a meal you prepared for them. So when the night came, and you arrived at the front of Onigiri Miya, the closed sign hanging on the door. You couldn’t help but marvel at the business your old high school crush managed to make for himself. Good for him, you thought to yourself with a smile. You tapped on the wooden doorframe and took a pensive step back, and when that sliding door opened, you both smiled at each other. It was nice to see how some things didn’t change. Osamu was still built like a brick house, broad-shouldered with bulging biceps stretching the fabric of the t-shirt he wore repping his business. His natural hair color was still cropped in a familiar hairstyle that he wore back in high school. He was a full-grown man now, and warmth radiated through your chest when you realized this was your first time seeing each other as full-fledged adults. “Hey, ‘Samu,” you crack a smile as he invites you in. “What’s on the menu tonight?” The onigiri shop has a bar counter where patrons can sit, along with a couple of tables and chairs, ten or twelve patrons can be seated comfortably. “It’s a surprise,” he told you, usually a little more straightforward than this, at least from what you remembered of the boy in high school. “You’ll have to trust me.” “Okay,” you say with a smile and nod. You’re willing to trust him. So he leads you to the counter, asks what you’d like to drink and you settle on some green tea, to help with your digestion, but to also help keep you alert. He fixes you a cup with practiced ease, and you two end up making small talk about how long he’s been in the restaurant business. He reaches into

the back window that leads into his kitchen and pulls out a pristine-looking white rectangular plate, with four large onigiris spaced out. “You get points for presentation already,” you say with a smile, taking a sip of your tea. “Hold off on giving me a final score until you’ve tasted them at least,” he tells you with a small smile. “You’re not going to eat with me?” “I made them for you.” “Yeah, but these are huge!” You gesture to the plate with your free hand. “I’m not going to be able to eat all four by myself. Rice expands in the stomach anyway.” He cracked a soft smile. “Guess your right, fine. We’ll share.” “Thank you.” You grab one with a thick strip of seaweed wrapped around it and begin to chow down, pleasantly surprised by the salmon mayo filling inside. “Ooof!!” Your voice is muffled with a mouth full of food, but Osamu chuckles at your surprise. He watches you eat with heavy-lidded eyes, eating whatever you end up not finishing. It’s enough to fill you both up. Just something about good food brings people together. “We should do this again sometime,” you say with a smile, looking both pleased with his company and stuffed from the meal. He looks down between your hands resting on the counter, smiling when you’re slender fingers brush between the empty spaces of his own. “We should,” he agrees, letting you lace your fingers with his. A warm feeling enters the pit of his stomach, and he’s sure it’s not from the meal you two shared.

#osamu x reader #osamu fluff #miya osamu #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#osamu x you

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abovethesmokestacks · 4 years ago

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Kiss Me

Title: Kiss Me

Pairing: Captain Syverson x reader

Rating: T

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Very intense kissing? Some grinding?

I am back on my Henry bullshit, this time with the lovely Captain Syverson. As with my last Henry fic, this came about from a discussion with Brooke, which led to a personalized fic, and she graciously okayed me posting it as a reader insert for the rest of you to enjoy. Partly inspired by the video of strangers kissing for the first time. And if this guy were the one I’d get to kiss? Hold on while I go full koala on him.

The early afternoon sun had seemed blistering when she left her apartment, and the sundress had been the obvious option; light, breezy material, a pretty pattern that combined comfort and style. The sun had nothing on the man sitting down opposite her now, radiating a kind of warmth and confidence that had heat creeping up her chest and neck, her fingers fiddling in her lap.

It had been a spur of the moment decision, an audition call shared by a recent acquaintance on Instagram. Film majors at the nearby college needed volunteers for a course project, weekend appointments, no experience needed, come as you are. Sounded fun, her weekends were mostly open anyway. What could possibly go wrong. She had messaged the contact person, gotten an address and a time to show up.

The first shock, admittedly, had come as she was signed in, given a form to fill out, detailing the project. She. Was going to kiss. A stranger. In front of cameras. For a film project.

“Miss? Are you alright?” The bubbly brunette who had signed her in, Abigail, according to the name tag tacked to her t-shirt, had looked at her, and she realized she must have made a sound.

“No! No, I'm fine, I- I just didn’t realize I’d- That this was-”

“Oh! Oh, you’ll be fine, there will be people in the room, you'll be safe as houses, darling, we won't say your names, that'll be up to you to share if you want.” The twang of her accent had was oddly comforting, but her heart was still racing, and suddenly, the handful of people lined up sitting in the corridor seemed all the more dangerous. She was going to kiss one of them. Fuck. Hastily, she'd filled out the rest of the form, handing it back and taking the number given, finding the nearest chair and trying to rifle through her purse as discreetly as she could for a chewing gum or a breath mint.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She had nearly launched out of her seat when her number was called, probably doing a credible impression of a deer caught in headlights. Abigail had smiled at her, motioning for her to follow.

“I promise, you will be fine. Our project manager wanted to explore the intimacy of the first kiss, what happens in those seconds before.”

“Why strangers?”

“It’s more… honest,” Abigail had said. “Couples know each other, know what to expect. They are comfortable. And it’s beautiful, don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing sweeter. I still remember my grandpa kissing my grandma goodnight when my brother and I would stay over when we were kids, the absolute comfort and love between them. But strangers, they don’t know what to expect. There’s a level of trust between them, courage to take the leap.”

That’s… She couldn’t decide if that eased her mind or set it racing even more. She’d simply nodded, letting Abigail lead her to a door a little way ahead, unlocking it for her.

“You can leave your purse on the table on the right when you enter. Then go sit in one of the chairs. I’ll bring the guy in shortly. The camera will start rolling as soon as he sits down, you can introduce yourself if you want, just your name, doesn't even have to be your real one if you don't want to, and you can share whatever else you feel comfortable sharing and then…”

“Then we kiss.”

It had seemed so simple, so straightforward in all its terrifying simplicity.

At first, there is only the outline of him, stark against the light outside the room and showing a muscular frame with tensed shoulders and a wary gait. Folding her hands in her lap, she picks at the fabric of her dress, folding the skirt into tight pleats between her fingers, following the man as he inches closer. Dark jeans that reveal long legs and thick thighs, a worn t-shirt tucked into them that stretches over a chest that is… impressive. His face, though… His face is what sets her heart fluttering all anew. A strong jaw, hidden under a neatly trimmed beard, a slightly pouty lower lip and a perfect cupid’s bow. His nose looks like it may have been broken once, but it’s been set pretty well, lends character to his face, enhanced by the clear blue of his eyes that focus in on her. His hair is short, curling a little at the ends, but kept as neat as his beard, almost like a military man, but she can spot no chain around his neck that would hold his dog tags.

And then, he’d walked in.

She barely hears the murmur to her left when the cameras start rolling.

He doesn’t speak until he’s sitting down, gaze on her, softening a little as he holds out a hand.

“Ca- Shit, sorry. No names, right?” He looks at her, almost a little scared that he’s messed up, and it is far too endearing for such a rugged man.

Without hesitation, she gives her first name, her real first name, a little surprised at herself for offering it along with her hand. His hand is calloused, warm and big, her own palm almost drowning in his clasp when he takes it. “Nice to meet you.”

The man laughs, releasing her hand and relaxing in his seat. “Sy. Nice to meet you, too. Pardon me if I'm being rude, but you don't sound like you're from around here.”

“Here for work for the next couple of months. Gotta say, you've got a pretty good ear.”

His eyes sparkle, a smile tugging at his lips, and god, the heat rises in her again, different from the apprehension that had her worked up just moments ago. He is the kind of man that draws you in, that can make you melt with a look, and she is fading fast. She is going to kiss him. He is going to kiss her.

“I won't hold it against you," Sy quips, hands resting on his thighs, and god, she wants to feel them on her.

"Me not being from around here? Or are we talking about something else?"

"Well, I was thinking the first..."

His words trail off, the suggestion hanging heavy in the silence. It feels like it stretches an eternity between them, but it's probably no more than five seconds. She's about to ask if they should start, if she should move, but Sy is looking at her, gaze wandering, assessing. The way he takes her in,i's not objectifying or greedy, not judgmental. It's… curiosity. Assessing her, planning his move, appreciating her, and she can feel it, feel his gaze move up and down her face, when it dips down for a fraction to her chest.

Everything fades with his first move. There are no cameras, no people, no one but them. Sy moves slowly, deliberately, scooting to sit on the edge of the chair, knee knocking against hers. It's electric, making her flinch and gasp, and that seems to please him. His hand comes up to rest on her knee, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb, locking eyes with her, willing her to relax.

"There we go…" Sy croons when she lets out a small sigh, his voice low and velvety. "Just relax. 'S just you an' me here. Don’t need to think about the rest of ‘em.. I'll be good, darlin', you can trust me. Isn't that right?"

She can only nod, inching towards the edge of her own chair, drawn into his warmth, the gentle timbre of his voice, the smolder behind the blue of his eyes.

"Yeah, that’s right, sugar. C’mon, come closer.”

His voice is hypnotic, not quite a purr, not quite a rumble, but it begs to be obeyed. She leans in closer, the two of them mirroring each other, and the tension is no longer in his shoulder, but sparking between them. His measured breaths fan lightly against her skin, and though everything in her should, by all logic, tell her to run, she finds herself relaxing. Sy’s thumb keeps working tight little circles, and he moves slowly, giving her plenty of time to see his intentions, and God, she welcomes it, tilts her head to welcome him.

It’s no explosion of stars or fireworks. His lips are a little chapped, but he knows how to kiss, working against her in soft pressure and the tease of his tongue along the seam of her lips. It’s not forcing the kiss, just giving her the option, showing that he is offering. When his other hand comes up to cup her cheek, she can’t help the needy whine that escapes her, and Sy smiles into the kiss, deepens it a little, swipes his tongue along her lips again.

She opens, happily surrendering, feeling him push back, soothing his thumb along her cheekbone. He kisses like she is the one thing he has been longing for, his happily ever after at the end of a long adventure. She kisses like he is the single point of stability in a storm, the one safe harbour in the entire world. Their spaces intertwine, slowly phasing and his one hand on her cheek is nowhere near enough. She pushes, Sy gives, and in one fluid moment and a happy sigh, she has straddled his lap, slinging her arms around his neck. She’s not letting go, not leaving this moment, and it’s almost like triumph when he embraces her, palms splaying on her back and she can feel the warmth through the thin material of her dress.

It’s a kiss for the ages, and they’re both hungry, both taking what the other gives freely. Sy’s hands wander, his fingertips teasing at the neckline to brush against heated skin, and she digs short, manicured nails into the skin of his neck, revelling in the groan he lets out. He pulls her closer, and oh. Her stomach does a somersault, a surprised giggle punctuating their kiss. Under her, Sy is hard, and the brief contact makes her all too aware of just how damp her panties have gotten.

There’s a less than discreet cough, and it pops their bubble, their gazes both snapping to the sound.

Right.

The film crew are standing behind their gear, some squirming, clearly a little uncomfortable. Sy gives a laugh, and it’s hard not to follow. She still feels winded from the kiss, head swimming, and she touches her forehead to his, biting her lower lip.

“I think we… might have overdone it,” she whispers, lips brushing against his cheek.

“I’m inclined to agree,” Sy agrees, his shoulders shuddering with poorly disguised mirth. He looks up at the film crew, “So, are we good?”

“Yup, great! We’re really- we’re good, you guys can, uh… Yeah. Good. Thanks. Um. Yeah. Great.”

They both laugh again at the awkward crew member, and she slowly eases off Sy’s lap. It’s too much of a temptation not to glance down, to raise an eyebrow at the visible bulge pressing against his jeans. He gives her a mock-chiding look before getting up himself, taking care to not face the crew as he falls into step next to her.

“Look,” he says as soon as they are out of the building, wringing his hands as he walks, “I know we just met, and that… that back there was for a project. But, god, sugar, you got my head spinning all kinds of ways, and I… it would be rude to ask to continue right away where we left off, much as I… god, I would really, really like to kiss you again, and… other things… But maybe you would be okay with a date? Anywhere you want. You can get to know me better. I’ll answer any questions you have, I’ll bring character references, I’ll pay for dinner and dessert, whatever you want.”

Halting, she tilts her head and looks up at him. The steely look that had assessed her when he’d entered the room is gone, as is most of the smoldering passion when their kiss had broken. It still lingers in his eyes, simmering behind the hope that made them glitter.

“You’ll answer any question?” she asks, smiling at the way he eagerly nods. “Is your name really Sy?”

“Yes. Well, technically. Syverson’s my last name, so Sy’s just a nickname.”

“And your first name? You started saying something else when you came in.”

“No, that was… I was in the army for a couple of years,” he explained, pulling up one of the sleeves of his shirt to show an army insignia tattooed on his bulging bicep. She bites her tongue, wondering if he had any other tattoos on his body, almost missing when Sy continues speaking, “-made it to captain before I got my honourable discharge. Just became a force of habit to introduce myself as Captain Syverson.”

“So, you’d bring one of your army buddies as your character reference?” She slows down to a stop, clasping her hands in front of herself. “I suppose now that you’re out of the army they wouldn’t feel as compelled to make you look good.”

Sy mirrors her, feet shoulder-width apart and hands clasped in front of him, and yeah, now she can see it, the posture. Definitely army guy. “No, no, god no! The guys in my unit would sooner throw me under the bus if I asked them to vouch for me in front of a pretty lady.”

“Oh, then who’d get the honour?” she asks, blushing at his compliment.

“When you signed in, there was a girl, right? Brown hair?”

“Abigail.”

“Abby,” Sy says, glancing back towards the building. “She’s my sister. Talked me into coming today, said they needed more people.”

“She must have something major hanging over you if she got you to agree to this.” Her voice is light, joking a she inches closer to him.

“Well…” Sy drawls, taking a step forward and gently grasping her hand, “I was promised a really good kiss.”

“A really good kiss, huh?”

Just like before, he makes the first move, hooking his finger under her chin and holding her still while he closes the space, capturing her lips in another kiss. It’s searing, slowly setting her afire, and she wants it, wants him, wants everything he’s giving and everything he’s offering. He keeps it short, and she can feel herself get up on her tippy toes to get more, and damn him. Damn him, damn him, damn him. She bites her lower lip.

“So how about that date, huh, darlin’?” Sy husks out, and fuck, she can hear the smile in his voice.

“I can pick the place?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And I can pick the time?”

“Any time you want.”

She reaches out, puts a hand on his neck, drags her fingers along warm skin and pulls him down to whisper in his ear.

“Your place. Right now. And dinner… is on me.”

#Kiss Me #Captain Syverson x reader #Syverson x reader #Sand Castle fanfiction

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collecting-stories · 4 years ago

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Tears Won’t Cry - c. 07 - JJ Maybank

Summary: You and JJ have sex for the first time and you hear something you’d rather not.

A/N: This chapter clocks in at a whopping 5.8k...I took some serious time with it so I hope you guys like it and, as always, thank you for reading.

You Are Ok Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✞ We’ll borrow happiness just for the night ✞

The more you thought about JJ’s offer the more tempting it seemed. Doing chores around the house, cooking, doing lessons, practicing piano for church, it didn’t matter what you were doing, that little voice in the back of your mind crept in, telling you that going with JJ would be the ultimate freedom. You wouldn’t have anyone telling you what to wear or who to talk to or what to do.

Your mom would tell you that was the voice of the ‘enemy’, the great evil that had turned Eve from god and caused immeasurable destruction. Every time the outside world came a little too close to the bubble your parents had created your mom claimed it was the work of the devil, persecuting her for her beliefs.

And didn’t Jesus spend forty days and forty nights in the desert resisting temptation from the very same devil? Hadn’t you been brought up in the church, taught the way of the Lord and encouraged, every day to resist those temptations that threatened your way of life? But here you were, spending every waking moment consumed with the idea of JJ. Maybe Jesus had survived out there but you were sure you couldn’t, not having been with JJ the way you had.

The one cardinal sin of your family, maybe more than anything else, was premarital intimacy. Sex was supposedly only good if you were married and then only intended for reproduction or for pleasing a husband. It was, according to both your parents, the most sacred part of yourself that you could give away. And even with the amount of thought you had given it, the careful consideration of your feelings and your future, you imagined burning in a holy fire or turning to salt like Lot’s wife were the only options left for you if you ever told them that you had given that part of yourself to JJ.

You had mulled over the decision for three nights, had even considered praying about it though you were sure that wasn’t the sort of prayer you addressed to God, but on the fourth night you were certain. Sitting there on the non-bunk bed in your room, listening to the sound of the faucet running as JJ brushed his teeth. You knew nothing about flirting techniques or subtle seduction...you really didn’t know anything about sex at all. Your approach so far, with every part of your relationship with JJ, had just been straightforward.

So, you were straightforward again. When JJ came out of the bathroom, shutting off the hall light and leaving your door slightly cracked the way you had told him you liked it to be, you sat up more against the head board, “I think I’m ready.”

“For?”

“For...us to have sex.” You stumbled over the words, sounding less sure out loud than you were in your head. You knew this was what you wanted; JJ was what you wanted. Even if you loved someone else someday down the line you wanted this moment to belong to the two of you.

“Right now?” JJ asked, hand still on the door knob.

“Well. I don’t really know how to initiate sex so…whatever you usually do.” You replied shrugging your shoulders.

JJ let the door stay open, leaving it to cross the room and sit down on the side of the bed. You moved closer to him, sitting sideways and letting one leg hanging over the edge, toes brushing the cold hard wood as you stared at each other. Maybe that was all that would happen, you would stare for a while, both too unsure to make the next move, until finally just resigning yourselves to sleep. JJ had always been confident in bed but this was different, everything about it felt like he was treading in uncharted territory, emotionally there was no way back from this once he jumped off the cliff.

He brought his hand up to your cheek like he’d done a thousand times before, leaning forward to kiss you. He could taste the floral chapstick you had on, a little tacky against his own lips as his tongue ran across your bottom lip. You had kissed before, made out with him pretty heavily, and though you still felt timid about somethings you tried to push that aside, shifting closer to him while breaking the kiss, biting his bottom lip as you did, JJ’s eyes opening for a second in surprise. The surprise gave way to pleasure as you kissed his neck, nudging the collar of his shirt out of the way with your nose in an attempt to access more skin.

“Here,” Eager to witness you in charge of this moment, JJ broke away to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it across the room. You smiled, a quick kiss to his lips before you were back to his neck and shoulders, the skin there tan and freckled from the sun. JJ hooked his hand under your thigh, pulling you toward him until you got the idea, hooking an arm around him for stability as you straddled his lap.

You resumed your work, alternating between leaving light kisses over the freckles on his shoulders and bruising the skin around his collar, gentle first and then eager and insatiable. Your other hand rested against his abs and you could feel his breaths under your touch, heavy and impatient. You were too afraid to ask him if anything you were doing felt good because you were afraid it didn’t. You knew you couldn’t kiss him forever but you would’ve been happy too, his skin was warm and when you scraped your teeth against his collar the moan he let out sounded heavenly. You could’ve listened to him for an eternity.

JJ caught your face in his hands, kissing you again and then leaning his forehead against yours. He liked you in control but right then, “can I?” He asked, one hand going to the hem of the shirt you were wearing for bed.

“Yeah,” you weren’t entirely sure how to proceed anyway, you were happy to let him lead. Before he could pull the shirt off, you let your leg drop off the bed, finding solid ground and stepping backward off his lap. JJ pouted, grabbing at you but you backed out of his reach. You gripped the hem of your shirt, keeping eye contact with JJ as you lifted it over your head, dropping it down by your feet.

You had imagined plenty of times that the first time you would ever undress in front of a guy it would be on your wedding night and it would be a dress that they were unzipping you from. Instead, it was an old gray t-shirt with a pun about Jesus on the front that your brother Robert had gotten at a youth retreat. Nothing special by far. But JJ looked at you like you hung the stars. He reached his hand out, grabbing yours and pulling you back to the bed. He stood you between his legs, hands on your hips.

“You alright?” JJ asked, looking up at you and smiling, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips. He was sitting there, staring at you almost entirely naked, standing in front of him and he felt like his mouth had gone dry. Frozen in some form as just the person who gets to look and he knew what a momentous thing that was for you. Just to let him see you this way.

You nodded, resting one hand on his shoulder, the other cupping his cheek and he turned his face into your palm to kiss you. The confirmation that you were okay and that the look in your eye was one of complete desire and love was the only motivation that JJ needed, pulling you into his lap again, his hands running up to your waist to hold you as he brought both of you further onto the bed.

In the prelude to sex JJ had plenty of opening lines, commentary on how hot a girl was or how she made him feel but as you kissed him again, twisting off his lap so your back was on the bed and you guide him on top of you, it all felt indescribable. JJ settled for an “I love you,” whispered into your skin as he pressed his lips to your collar, one hand moving up the expanse of your stomach while the other held him over you.

“I love you too,” your response sounded breathless, a result of JJ’s trail of kisses down to your chest. His right hand groped your right breast, thumbing brushing over your nipple repeatedly as his mouth closed the other one, pressing his tongue flat against it. The sensation was enough to have you squirm under him, tensing slightly, biting down on your lip as you griped the shorter hairs at the back of his head.

He pulled away, the cool area of the room chilling you as he switched his concentration, kissing just below your breast before his mouth to the other, hand moving to hold your side as you moaned at the feeling of his mouth on you. “Your so sensitive,” JJ commented, tone conveying the awe he felt as he continued to lavish your breasts with attention.

JJ kissed you like it was an art form, like you were something delicate and he wanted to take his time to savor every part of you. His mouth moved across your stomach, kissing parts of you that you harbored insecurities about. He stopped his appreciation of your body when he reached your underwear, resting his chin on your stomach as he looked up at you. Waiting. He’d moved himself almost off the bed, halfway to a kneel your legs hanging off the bed on either side of him. You pushed yourself onto your elbows, looking down at him as he smiled at you.

“This is what you want?” He had to be sure, wanted to hear you tell him you wanted him as much as you trusted him, as much as you loved him.

“Yes.” You felt the rush of a chill down your spine as JJ kissed the inside of your right thigh, his fingers slipping around the hem of your underwear to pull them down. Nothing spectacular, in fact-

“It’s not Thursday,” JJ laughed, reading the printed text on the front of your underwear. A gift four years ago, you still retained half the collection.

“Saturday sort of, got ruined by an early period.” You laughed, lifting your head up again, “is there usually this much talking during sex?”

“Shush,” JJ teased, nipping at the sensitive skin below your stomach. Though he didn’t say it then, any girl he’d been with before had kept themselves some level of shaved but you had obviously never felt the need to. It was no real difference to him, or so he discovered as he kissed the insides of your thighs again. As he did he pushed your legs a little further apart slating them on either side of his shoulders. You were still propped up on your elbows, watching him in fascination. No one, yourself included, had ever touched you like JJ was.

The most comprehensive sex education had skimmed over details of actual sex, promising that your future husband would know your body well enough to teach you about it on your wedding night. If Timothy had even crossed your mind while this was happening, you certainly wouldn’t have drawn any conclusions to him being this skilled.

You moaned unexpectedly, surprise laced with something else, something far more primal as JJ parted your lower lips, middle finger gently running up your slit, coating it in pre-cum, ghosting a circle around your clit. Your right thigh brushed his arm and moved onto his shoulder as the minute sensation had you trying to close your legs. JJ leaned his head against the same thigh, turning just enough that he could brush a kiss against your skin.

“I got you.” He promised.

As he continued, thumb brushing over your clit as he worked in slow circles, savouring the moment, hyper aware of every twitch, moan, or movement of your body, you fell back off your elbows. You laid flat on your back, hands gripping at sheets as JJ fingered you. He picked up the pace of his thumb, pressing a little harder as he did, his middle finger slipping back into your entrance, the movement slow but still making you jerk slightly, pressing your heel into his back.

“It’s okay,” JJ shushed, kissing you leg down to the apex of your thigh, “your okay.”

You hummed in response, in no position to use any actual words. He slipped his middle finger further inside, slowly letting you adjust to the feeling. JJ had never been this careful during sex but couldn’t deny that it was arousing in itself, taking his time, focused solely on the way you felt and not some endgame-moment-of-ecstasy. He added another finger and you squeezed your eyes shut, tensing at the feeling for a split second but it left just as quickly as it came.

JJ was off his knees, hovering over you, kissing your nose and then your mouth. “It’s okay,” he promised, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you were already breathing heavy, eyes fluttering open just enough to look at him. JJ’s expression softened as he moved again, hooking an arm around around you and helping you sit up, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“Not tonight?” He asked, before you could even form the words. He climbed onto the bed more so he could sit you in his lap, grabbing his discarded shirt and pulling it over your head as you caved into him.

“I thought I was ready.” You admitted, wrapping your arms around him, “I just-“

“It doesn’t have to be right now…it doesn’t even have to be soon. Whenever you’re ready.” JJ replied.

“Yeah but what about you?”

JJ shrugged, “I’d be happy with whatever you’re willing to give me.” He admitted, “it’s not…I mean you said yourself, sex is something really important to you and, I like having sex but it’s not like that for me so…I can wait. I’m not going anywhere. You should feel like it’s what you want it to be.”

“Can we just lay here for a while?” You asked, shifting so you could move up the bed to get beneath the covers. JJ followed suit, letting you get between him and the wall.

With the covers up around the both of you, JJ laid on his side, head propped propped on one hand while you held the other, fingers twirling the bracelets on his wrist. A familiar one stood out, buried under intricately knotted friendship bracelets, the neon green peeking through. You pulled at it, revealing the black ichthus that was stitched onto the cheap plastic thread.

“This is mine?” You almost laughed, holding his hand closer to your face to get a better look.

“I know,” JJ admitted, “I stole it the first night you let me in your room. I saw it on the desk and took it.”

“I’m not sure a WWJD bracelet is something you would need to consult on a daily basis.” You said. Of all the non-Christian people you had encountered in your seventeen years, JJ was the furthest from the church you could think of.

“Why, what does it mean?” He asked, pressing his nose against your jaw, kissing the underside of your chin.

“What Would Jesus Do.”

“See,” he teased, “I thought it meant ‘what would JJ do’.”

“I think that would be WWJJD and no one would want to take that advice.” You replied, letting go of his hand to pull him into a kiss.

JJ hovered over you as you deepened the kiss, one hand at the back of his head, keeping him close as you imitated his earlier actions, tongue running across his bottom lip. You grabbed his free hand, resting on your hip, and dragged it up, pushing it under your shirt and onto your stomach.

“Can we see where this goes?” You asked, pulling away enough to look in his eyes.

“Anything you want.” He promised.

JJ’s movements were as slow as they had been last time, concealed now by the blanket that was over the two of you. He stayed close, where you could see him, kissing your neck, collar, face, lips, as he slipped his fingers into your still slick entrance.

You moved your hands down to the waistband of his shorts. He’d changed into a pair of basketball shorts to sleep in, easier access than the cargo shorts he had on earlier. When your hand slipped past his waistband he pressed his face into your neck, his fingers stilling for a moment inside you.

“I should tell you, I have no idea what I’m doing,” you mentioned, voice still breathless.

JJ was tempted to tell you that it wouldn’t take much for him to lose it. “You don’t have to do anything,” he replied, kissing your throat.

“I’ve never actually seen…” you trailed off, flustered at the thought. “I mean, in a textbook.”

“This is the hottest pre-sex talk ever,” JJ teased, enjoying the way your breath hitched when he pulled his fingers out again, “someday, I’m gonna make you cum.” He said.

Your eyes widened as he licked his fingers, smiling at you as he sucked them clean. JJ flopped down next to you, pushing his shorts down without any care in the world. You covered your eyes with your hands on instinct almost and JJ laughed, grabbing your wrists and pulling your hands down to his mouth so he could kiss your palms.

“Come here.” He instructed, guiding you to straddle him, watching as you sat over his thighs. “Let me show you?”

This, JJ decided as you wrapped your hand around his cock, thumb smearing pre-cum at the tip, was arguably the hottest thing he’d ever done in his life. He closes his hand over yours, guiding you as you stroke him, your eyes focused on the way his body responded to you. JJ’s chest and face were flushed red from arousal, his own eyes trained on you as he tried to keep his control over the situation. He didn’t want to spook you again, wanted to keep you comfortable. He had never been one to tap out early when it came to sex but he wasn’t sure how long he would truly be able to last. The condom that he’d found in his backpack after you told him you wanted to have sex and he went digging sat on your bedside table and he reached for it now.

When he was sure you were ready, he moved your hands to his stomach, telling you to brace yourself on him. You followed his lead as you sat up onto your knees, one of his hands gripping your waist as he guided you down on his cock, the stretch of your walls around him lessened from the angle. You moaned at the feeling of him, short breaths filling the air as you gripped his sides.

“Fuck.” You whispered the curse word, only the second time you’d ever said it though for a reason just as fitting as the first. You couldn’t think of many others that could’ve described the feeling you were experiencing.

There were a million things JJ wanted to say as he stared up at you, a thousand emotions pressing against his chest, each more in love with you than the last. He would’ve frozen this exact moment if he could’ve, just stayed like this for an eternity because how was he supposed to see you get engaged to someone else after this. Before he could get too in his head you shifted your weight forward, rolling your hips and lifting yourself up just enough that when you came back down, walls clenching around him, JJ’s hips jerked up and his hands gripped your hips tighter, fingers digging into your skin.

“Shit, holy shit.” He muttered, coaxing you to repeat the motion. You steadied yourself with your hands on his chest, rolling your hips again. “Just like that.” The third time you tried it JJ’s grip didn’t let up, instead he took the lead, picking up your pace for you. Once you seemed to catch up to the rythmn of his movements, trying your best not to overthink anything and just focus on him, JJ dropped one of his hands. You jerked at the feeling of his fingers pushing passed your folds, thumb finding your clit again and rubbing against it.

“Oh my god, JJ,” you moaned at the feeling of him overtaking your senses, your stomach tightening as he thrust his hips up to meet you, almost falling out of the rythmn he’d been keeping as you crested, orgasming first. Loud and panting, your hand slipped and you almost collapsed on him, the shifting angle and the way you clenched around him sending him over that edge with you.

It hadn’t felt anything but natural when it happened and with anyone else you didn’t think you would’ve felt as comfortable with yourself as he made you feel. JJ didn’t rush, he wasn’t impatient or self-serving. You’d read once, in a book you read sequestered in the library away from any eyes that might recognize you, about a rather steamy romance. The book was trash but you remembered that feeling of utter confusion as you read and re-read the line about feeling ‘worshipped’. How could any one person worship another?

The question answered itself in the way that JJ held you in the afterglow. And the pure, unadulterated bliss he felt when you placed kisses along his jaw, punctuating them with reminders of how much you loved him. He’d stayed with you those four days and at the Chateau before that, only a minute bruise near his hip still evident from the last time he was home and when you asked about it he claimed it was a surfing injury.

“She loves you,” Kiara had argued when he told her that he had no intention of telling you about his father. He could see, in a way, why your parents wanted to shelter you. They were just trying to keep you safe, to shield you from all the unsavory parts of life and he, in that same way, for that same reason, couldn’t bring himself to tell you about his dad.

“She won’t love that.” He was resolved to his decision. If he didn’t tell you than things could keep on going exactly the way they had been.

But it wasn’t his dad, in fact, that had any bearing on the course of things. Meeting up with each other once your parents were home returned to be a Olympic-level obstacle. You swearing that you were headed to Kiara’s for a ‘bible study’ and promising to be home before dinner, walking instead in the direction of the Chateau.

JJ wasn’t there yet when you knocked, John B answering the door instead. “Hey, I didn’t realize you were coming over.” He greeted, stepping out onto the patio with you, “this doesn’t bother you, does it?” He was referring to the fact that he was shirtless and you shook your head.

“It’s fine, I mean, it is your house.” You shrugged, sitting on the arm of one of the couches. You loved hanging out with Kiara and Pope, they didn’t just feel like JJ’s friends but yours too. There was just something about John B, you could never quite get there with him.

“JJ said your parents were out of town last week?” He asked, “Figured that was why it was so quiet here.”

“Yeah I borrowed all the loud energy for a few days,” you laughed, “it was nice though, getting to spend time with him without having to sneak around the island.”

John B nodded, walking across the small space to look outside. He paced back over to the other couch, taking a seat on the arm, mirroring your position. With your back to the screen you couldn’t see JJ approaching the house and later it was obvious that was John B’s intent all along. “Look, you seem really nice and I don’t wanna hurt your feelings, I think you’re a really cool person,” he started, pausing at the right spot to build anticipation.

“But?” You asked. You missed the sound of JJ’s boots on the steps for the creaky nature of the floorboards when John B stood up.

“But he’s only dating you for a bet. Sarah bet him $200 he could get you to sleep with him.” He replied, the sound of the door slamming open the perfect punctuation to the sentence.

“What the fuck John B!” JJ snapped, tackling his friend into the couch you were sitting on the arm of. You jumped, stumbling back a few steps, eyes wide as JJ punched John B in the ribs, pinning him down to the couch. The whole thing felt like it was playing out in slow motion but sped up at the same time. When John B finally managed to shove JJ off of him, throwing the blond to the floor, you snapped out of whatever trance it had ensnared you in.

“JJ!” You said his name before he could even get himself back on his feet and both boys looked at you. “Is it true?”

JJ stood up, grabbing his hat off the ground and clenching his fists around it. When he paid John B back it had been with the implied understanding that no one outside of their circle ever needed to know about the bet. Pope had urged him to tell you, insisting that maybe you would understand. But it was far too late for that. The bet was that the two of you had sex and you had and knowing about the bet did nothing but cheapen the moment.

“Is it true?” You repeated, trying to hold tears at bay as everything felt like it was crashing around you. This was exactly why your mom believed so strongly that the outside world was innately evil.

“It wasn’t that simple-“ JJ started to say but you cut him off.

“Yes or no?” You snapped, voicing raising more than JJ had ever heard, even when you were freaking out over lunch with Timothy’s family, “is John B telling the truth?”

“Yes.” JJ sighed, running a hand through his hair. You backed away from both of them and turned, pulling the door open and running down the steps. “Fuck,” he cursed, taking off after you. He called your name but you didn’t answer, going along the path he’d shown you between your house and John B’s. The moment you hit the yard he stopped, he couldn’t follow you there, as if the ground was poisonous to his touch. It was a natural repellent and he stood at the edge of the tree line, watching you head inside.

Minutes. It took minutes, and John B deciding to be an absolute asshole, to completely pull apart the only actual relationship he’d ever been in. He wanted nothing more than to go back to the Chateau and beat the shit out of John B until he felt better but he knew, in reality, that nothing was bound to actually make him feel anything but completely broken. You were gone. JJ changed course, heading instead to Heyward’s.

He had told Pope, while both of them were in the kitchen at John B’s, that he had slept with you for the first time. Kiara had told him, because he had blabbed to her too, that virginity was a social construct.

“You shouldn’t make such a big deal out of it.” She’d insisted.

“It is a big deal Kie, to her. It’s a huge fucking deal.” He had argued.

But none of that felt like it even mattered cause he had fucked up so badly that he wasn’t entirely sure how to fix it. He could certainly chance going to your house but he didn’t want to show up too soon. If you needed time he wanted to give that to you, whatever you needed, so long as, in the end, you believed him when he told you that it was all just a mistake. The bet, not you.

Kiara called JJ that night, you had come by her house after dinner, after asking your parents if you could sleep over, and apologizing for showing up at all. “I know this is shitty to do to you, JJ’s your best friend, I just…don’t have other friends to go to.” You had all but cried when Kiara hugged you, pulling you into her house.

You certainly couldn’t call any of your siblings, even the ones you were closest too would not be understanding. All they would see was a girl who broke her vows to the church by dating, by having sex, by lying and tricking your parents. There was no possible way that anyone in your house or your family or even anyone in your church would understand your decision to, in their minds, turn your back on God to be with a boy. So you went to Kiara’s and hoped that she wouldn’t turn you away. Whatever the bet with JJ was, you felt like Kiara was a friend, someone you could count on more than anyone else in your life right now.

“You can come over anytime, about anything.” She promised.

“I just feel so stupid,” you confessed, sitting on the bed in her bedroom, drinking a seltzer from her secret stash behind her desk. Losing your virginity, getting drunk, crying over a boy, you’d hit all your milestones in a week. If you were sober, if you weren’t so upset, you would be able to look at it for what it was but instead you stuck in this place, grieving over something you thought was so real. “John B said it was all just a bet.”

“What did JJ say?” Kiara asked. She knew about the bet but had felt like it was JJ’s place to tell you. Obviously, he had not.

“That it was, that John B was telling the truth.” You replied, taking another sip.

“Maybe you should talk to him?” She suggested. It was a tricky line to walk down but Kiara didn’t want you to give up on JJ. She knew he had feelings for you. “I’ve been friends with JJ for a really long time, I’ve never seen him like this.”

Kiara had known JJ since middle school and she’d watched him, since then, go through different relationships, if they could be called that. Dates required more effort than he was willing to give when they expected the same attention that he paid to his friends, quickly altering the way he approached relationships until they were just hook-ups. Just short lived moments, half the time too drunk to remember. He flirted, an empty gesture that compensated for his need to be physically close to people without him having to seem clingy.

“I just don’t know why he didn’t tell me.” You cried. “No wonder my parents never wanted me to date, it hurts so much.”

“I know,” Kiara lamented, crawling across the bed so she could pull you into a hug, your head resting against her shoulder as you continued to cry. It was like an endless sadness, you couldn’t imagine recovering from.

It was when you finally fell asleep, exhausted from crying and almost entirely drunk, that Kiara finally called JJ. She left you tucked in her bed, going into the bathroom and locking the door as she sat on the closed toilet to call him. It was nearing three in the morning but he answered anyway, immediately asking if she had heard from you.

“She took off toward her house and it’s not like I can call her or something. I followed her to her yard but I was worried her parents would see me.” JJ had hastily explained. He’d thought about going back later but when he did your mom was in the yard and he didn’t want to chance it.

“She’s here.” Kiara replied, voice low so her parents did come snooping when they heard voices. Her mom had been dying to get some kind of gossip out of you when you first showed up.

“John B told her about the bet.”

“Did you explain that you gave the money back?” She asked.

“I…I just kinda got into it with John B.” He admitted. “In my defense though, she didn’t let me explain!” He knew it wasn’t your fault, you were upset, but thinking that it’d been him, by proxy, that had hurt you like that had his stomach turning.

“I’m pretty sure finding out that the first guy you’ve ever dated or had feelings for was using you for a bet would be kind of traumatizing JJ! She doesn’t really wanna talk to anyone, she barely explained what happened, she just keeps saying how stupid she feels.” Kiara replied.

“I just need to talk to her.”

“Maybe just, give it some time?” She suggested.

“I don’t have time.” JJ replied, pulling at strands of his hair as he combed his fingers through it. “She’s eighteen in a week. Her parents set her up with this guy from Tennessee and she’s going be engaged on her birthday. I can’t let her go through with it.”

“That’s part of her life JJ, I mean, that’s what her family believes-“

“She deserves more than that!”

“And you can provide this? I don’t wanna be that bitch Jay but, seriously? You can provide something for her that’s better than, at least, some security. Something worth giving up her entire family for?” Kiara asked. She knew she sounded awful but she couldn’t help questioning him. The last thing she wanted was you trapped into a life you didn’t want but JJ playing like everything would be rainbows and good times if you left was impractical.

“I have a plan.”

“And what exactly, is that?”

“Look, I don’t fucking need you getting all high and mighty!” JJ spat, pissed as it was. Kiara had the nerve to tell him not to make such a big deal about sex but she could turn around and bitch him out for wanting to ‘interfere with your life’. He knew she was just trying to be a decent friend to you but he didn’t want her input, he just wanted her to put you on the phone.

“You’re playing with her life here Jay…if she chooses you, if you apologize and she gets back together with you…she will never get to speak to her family again. Is that what you want?” She questioned, “to have her ostracized from her family.”

“I want her to be happy.” JJ replied, “and to know that none of this was fake.”

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fanficimagery · 4 years ago

Text

Take on the World; pt. 1

Anonymous asked: can I request something where the reader falls asleep on Rick's lap or something and the group is in awe of the two of them?

Words: 3.4K Warnings: Requests? What are those? Turns out I don't know how to make someone appear "in awe" and forgot how to fulfill someone’s request. JFC why was this so hard? Also after I started writing this, I saw the second message where you requested no Alexandria. I'm sorry to admit I had already included this particular safe haven and didn't know how to rewrite it. Mentions past violence/trauma.

The first couple of days at Alexandria are not as relaxing as one would hope for. Yes the place is a goddamn luxury resort compared to what you and your group are used to, but after everything you've been through you can't help but be suspicious. Because after literal years of running for your lives and putting your life on the line to defend whatever safe haven your group ended up finding, a place like Alexandria should not exist.

But it does and every single person in your group, with the exception of Father Gabriel, can't seem to relax. You and your large group have been given a few houses and nearly an entire block to spread out in, but you've all congregated together in two houses and refuse to wander too far from one another. It was hard to decide who went where, but Rick managed to do it without any problems. He instructed Michonne to take Tara, Rosita, Abraham, Eugene, Sasha, and Father Gabriel into one house while he himself took on Carl, Judith, you, Daryl, Carol, Glenn, and Maggie. No one fussed and seemed to be a little at ease during the day, but when night fell that's when everyone's guard went back up.

It also doesn't help that the couple of days you've been here, everyone's been called into Deanna's office for a bullshit interview so she could decide which job best fit your skills. Jobs? Skill sets? The goddamn dead were walking around eating people and Deanna was trying to fill in a teaching position for the teenagers in the secluded little town.

The locals are wary, and have every right to be after the way you all showed up, but a few of them have managed to be welcoming and bring in extra food to feed everyone and extra clothes so you could all bathe the blood and trauma away. Huh. Fat chance.

But though you've showered and managed to change into some clean, comfortable clothes, you still can't seem to sit still and rest.

A floorboard creaks and you whirl around, reaching for a knife that's no longer strapped to your thigh. Stupid Deanna and her rules!

A cleanly shaven and trimmed Rick chuckles, stepping out of the shadows and into the hallway you were pacing in as he holds his hands up in mock surrender. You frown at him, sighing, and then tiredly grin as you lean against the wall. "What's-her-face finally got a hold of you, I see. Daryl up next?"

"Carol wishes," he muses. "If he doesn't take a shower soon, I'm pretty sure she's going to hose him down in the front yard just so she can wash his current clothes." You huff a quiet laugh, shaking your head in amusement. Rick smiles at you, but that smile falls as he steps closer and lowers his voice. "When was the last time you slept, Y/N?"

You grimace and cross your arms over your chest. "I sleep."

"Ten minutes every few hours is not good and you know it." Guilty, you avert your gaze. "It's three in the morning. You should be asleep."

"Yeah? Well so should you." Meeting his gaze then, your stomach swoops at the fond expression he's staring at you with. Rick Grimes is a can of worms you closed after the fallout of the prison because that's when everything really started to go wrong for your group, but it seems that behind the walls of Alexandria those worms are trying to burst free. You lightly clear your throat and kick at one of his booted feet. "I'll sleep when you sleep, oh fearless leader."

He smirks. "Fine. Lets get some sleep then."

Immediately, your smile falls. "What?"

Rick grabs you by the wrist and starts to drag you towards the living room where everyone is camped out at. Daryl is reclined in the only recliner, Carol and Judith are on the loveseat, Carl, Glenn, and Maggie are on the couch, and there's a mattress that's been pushed up in the corner of the room. Everyone is currently sound asleep, so Rick quietly kicks off his boots and gestures for you to do the same. You do and then try not to squirm when he sits down on the mattress with his back against the wall only to drag a pillow into his lap and pat it as if he's expecting you to lay your head there.

"Come on," he tells you. "I got some sleep earlier. I can doze on and off while you actually get some sleep. I'll keep watch if I have to." Oh. He really is expecting you to just lay your head in his lap.

"Rick.." You hesitate and he grins wider. The shake of his head, however, tells you he won't let this go. So heaving a small sigh, you step onto the mattress and then lower yourself so you're curled up with your head on the pillow in his lap. Immediately one of his hands goes to tuck your hair behind your ear and you huff at him. "You're ridiculous."

"And you're running yourself ragged. Go to sleep."

You shift a little to get more comfortable, your body traitorously relaxing as Rick's fingers delve into your hair and lightly scratch at your scalp. Your heart warms and your eyelids flutter shut, taking longer and longer to reopen as the minutes tick by until you're eventually asleep.

Rick's hand seems to have a mind of its own as he continues to scratch Y/N's scalp, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips when she snorts and then grumbles in her sleep. Eventually though his thoughts drift off and he can't help but think back to when he had met her.

Rick had first laid eyes on Y/N at the quarry back in Georgia. He'd been so wrapped up at being reunited with his family that he didn't get further in knowing her other than the fact that she'd been a friend of Glenn's from work. Then the farm happened, loyalties were tested as a swarm of the dead demolished their little safe haven, and everyone nearly starved to death while on the run before finding the prison.

The prison was the safest haven they had, but also the one place with a bunch of terrible memories. The only good thing that actually came out of the prison was that, that was when Rick really took notice of Y/N and how much she gave so their family of misfits were as comfortable as can be. He's ashamed to admit that's when he started to develop feelings for her because a very hormonal Lori wasn't making things easy on him, but then their safety was put in jeopardy by a spurned ex-inmate they'd let loose and no one had time to think about intimacy.

Lori had given birth to a daughter everyone knew wasn't biologically Rick's, and died in the process after being secluded away from everyone because of an invasion of the dead. Rick lost himself to his grief for a few weeks after, but Y/N was there to unknowingly pull him back together piece by piece. Not once did her trust in him waver, nor did she blame him for turning away strangers when they had found their way into the prison. In the world they lived in, one had to be extremely careful with who they trusted to let around their family.

But then the Governor tried to take the prison by force, lives were lost, the group was split up, and the prison was basically given back to the dead after fences were torn down and walls were bombed open. Y/N got stuck with him, Carl, and Michonne in the chaos and that was when he noticed his feelings made a reappearance. Michonne had seen the longing looks when Y/N would try to keep Carl as safe as possible while also letting him do things on his own since being a child wasn't safe in the world they lived in now, but she would do nothing more than tease her friend about it when Y/N wasn't paying attention.

And just when things started to seem semi-okay, a group of men caught up to them which led to Daryl swooping in just in the nick of time to prevent some terrible things from happening to both Carl and Y/N. They were shaken, but happy to be reunited with a familiar face and tried to not get their hopes up when they started to see signs of a promising sanctuary for people in need. It was wishful thinking that the others missing from the group were seeing the same signs, but Rick pushed for it anyway.

Terminus ended up being a goddamn nightmare and Rick was disheartened when very familiar faces started to be shoved into the train car they were being held in.

Y/N whimpers in her sleep, startling Rick from memory lane. His fingers, which had stopped scratching, start moving again in hopes of her falling back into a peaceful slumber. But as the seconds tick by, her breathing gets heavier and faster until she's eventually gasping awake.

"Hey. Hey!" Rick quietly snaps, hoping to grab her attention without scaring her and without waking the others. "Y/N, it's okay. You're safe. We're safe. You don't have to be scared."

Your eyes take a moment to focus in the dark and when they do your breath stutters in your chest when Rick comes into focus. You sag in relief and his hands cup your face so you're only staring at him. You grasp onto his wrists to help ground yourself. "R-Rick?"

"Yeah, sweetheart. It's me. Just breathe." You do as he's requested, blinking away tears when they build up. "Where did you go just now?" He murmurs.

"T-Terminus," you exhale shakily. "I was- we were back at Terminus."

Rick's gaze subconsciously darts down to your neck and you release one of his wrists to cover the scar that resides there at the base of your throat. You had gotten it from Terminus, the cannibals who were luring people there, having tied up you, Rick, Glenn, Daryl, and Bob to dispose of first. The men were pushed to their knees on one side of an empty watering trough and you were dragged in across from them. All of your wrists were bound and bandannas had been tied around your heads and shoved into your mouths to keep your screams from being too loud.

But the second you were shoved to your knees and pushed forward to lean over the trough, your eyes widened and you started to sob. A hand gripped the back of your hair to pull your head back just so and the men from your group went wild struggling to help you. A machete had been placed at the base of your throat, but the man only got in a small slice before an explosion rocked the entire place.

"We got out of there." Rick's voice brings you back to the present and you sniffle, nodding, and you let your hand fall. He attempts to smile, but when you can't return it he pushes aside the pillow in his lap. "Come here."

Your brow furrows. "What?"

"Come here," he says again. He pulls his legs up so his knees are bent and then spreads his legs while gesturing to the space in front of him. "You need sleep and you won't sleep peacefully until you feel safe."

"Rick.."

"Nope. I don't wanna hear it. Sit in front of me and lay your back against my chest."

The longer you stare, the more you realize he's being serious. So blinking at him in surprise, you can't help but numbly crawl over to him. You're so nervous that you're actually trembling as you get into position and hesitantly lean back until you're resting against him. Rick cages you in with his arms resting on his knees until eventually he wraps them around your stomach to hold you. Your arms slowly fall atop of his and you lean your head back against his shoulder, relaxing. "Oh," you breath. "This is- this is nice."

Rick chuckles as he nudges your head with his chin. "Get some sleep, sweetheart. No one is going to harm you."

"Famous last words, Grimes. If I wake up to mayhem, I'm letting you do all the dirty work while I hide away."

His only response is to squeeze you a little tighter and you shift a little more to get comfortable enough to fall asleep once more.

The next time Rick wakes up it's because he hears someone shuffling around. His left arm tightens around Y/N while his other reaches for the Colt at his hip. Only he realizes immediately that he no longer has his gun and his eyes fly open. Almost everyone is staring at him in surprise, with the exception of Daryl who doesn't seem fazed.

"She's sleeping and letting someone touch her," Glenn says in awe. "How long has she been asleep for?"

Rick grimaces as he shifts a little, freezing when Y/N sighs in her sleep and shoves her face further into the side of his neck. Slowly but surely he stretches his legs out, exhaling softly and wrapping his second arm around her once more. "How long have you been watching?"

"About fifteen minutes," Carol muses. "We for sure thought Judith would have woken you up with her fussing."

"Was it nightmares?" Maggie asks. "She hasn't slept longer than an hour since.."

"Since Terminus," Glenn frowns. "I think we've all had trouble sleeping since then."

"Y/N more so than anyone," Daryl grumbles. He frowns, clearly remembering what he, Glenn, and Rick were witness to.

Carl stretches, smiling. "I don't know what to be more happier about: the fact that Y/N is sleeping or that my dad's finally loosened up to see what was in front of his face this entire time."

"Excuse me?" Rick says. Everyone in the room but him snickers and his grip on Y/N loosens just a little.

"Y/N has had a thing for you since the farm," Maggie admits, "but she kept it quiet because of Lori and was afraid of Shane and all his drama."

"And you've had a thing for her since we were split up after the prison." Carl grins at his dad's subtle expression of guilt. "I'm surprised it took you guys this long for anything to happen."

"But it- nothing's happened."

"You cuddling her says otherwise," Carol teases.

Rick huffs and then freezes once more when Y/N shifts.

Talking and muffled laughter is what wakes you, but you manage to stay still as everyone around you continues to talk. You do your best not to laugh at their obvious awe of you finally sleeping and then try your hardest not to blush when they call out both you and Rick for hidden feelings. Eventually though you have the urge to pee and you let your eyes flutter open, groaning slightly as you stretch your legs out and arch your back in the process.

Someone snorts and you grimace when you realize groaning was perhaps not the best thing to do while you were practically in Rick's lap. You glance around at everyone in the room, slowly leaning forward and crawling over Rick's thigh. "Hey, guys." You gulp. "Everyone sleep okay?"

Daryl smirks. "Did you?"

The room's occupants don't bother hiding their amusement. You frown at the hunter. "Get bent, Dixon." Rick chuckles at your side and you avoid his gaze. Standing then, you quickly make an excuse to flee to the upstairs bathroom. "I'll just, uh, be in the bathroom or something."

Halfway up the stairs, the front door opens and you glance over your shoulder to see the other half of the group enter the house. Sighing in relief, you hope their presence is enough to make everyone forget about you waking up in Rick's arms.

The minutes tick by and after taking a little longer than necessary in the upstairs bathroom, you finally head downstairs. You're more composed and ready for more teasing, but surprisingly the house is clear of mostly everyone. Carol is there trying to figure something out for lunch, Tara and Glenn are playing a board game, and Eugene is browsing the books that were already on the shelves in the living room. Carol catches sight of you as you're passing by and you smile tightly before heading out the front door.

Maggie is sitting on the porch steps and when she notices you she gestures for you to join her. You do, sighing as you take a seat on the same step as her and nudge her with your shoulder when you catch sight of her smile. "Go ahead, Mags. Get it all out."

"How did it feel to wake up in the beefy arms of-" You snort, punching at her thigh. Maggie laughs and leans towards you, her smile softening as she nudges you softly. "In all seriousness, how did that happen?"

You shrug. "I was pacing. Rick talked to me and said I needed sleep. He-" You trail off, chuckling. "He actually made me lay next to him and lay my head in his lap. I fell asleep with him scratching my scalp."

Maggie coos. "So then how did you end up the way you did?"

"I had a dream about Terminus." Her smile falls. "I woke up in a panic and Rick comforted me. That's all that was."

"You sure about that?" You sigh and open your mouth to deny whatever she's concocted in that brain of hers, but you see her staring somewhere down the road. Following her gaze, you see Rick bent over a bike and helping a child with the chain that'd fallen off. You slowly start to smile, especially when he glances up and catches your gaze before waving. "We're safe here, Y/N. You can let that guard of yours down and actually pursue something with him."

"We thought we were safe at the prison and look how that turned out." This time it's Maggie's turn to sigh and you turn to face her, lowering your voice. "If we stay here, Mags, we're sitting ducks. We'll become soft and, should this place ever be overrun, you know damn well every person previously living here will be running around like chickens with their heads cut off."

"Then teach them," she urges. "I've been talking to Deanna about expanding the walls to make room for a bigger garden. She's listening, Y/N. She's taking our words into account because she knows what we've been through out there. She knows we have experience."

"She also took our weapons away," you deadpan. "No one in this town is allowed a weapon, so what makes you think she'll want us teaching her precious locals the proper ways to defend themselves?"

"You never know if you don't try."

Your shoulders droop. "I want to. Believe me, I do, but you know we don't fit in here."

"I know, but we have to try for Carl and Judith." She pauses, taking a moment to quickly glance around. "And for the future babies that will possibly be born."

It takes a moment for her words to sink in and when they do your eyes widen. "What?" She shrugs and you shake your head in disbelief. "You're actually trying?"

"Not now," she sheepishly admits, "but we want to. Eventually. We just need to set down roots somewhere and Alexandria seems like a place that can happen."

"Jesus, Mags." You're still in disbelief, but when you see her expression falter as if ashamed, you're quick to grab onto her hand and squeeze. "Okay. I'll try for the kids and for my future godchild."

Maggie snorts and turns her hand to squeeze yours in return. "And while you're at it, try with Rick. The sexual tension is getting to be a bit much."

"And the moment's ruined." You're quick to toss her hand aside and stand up, ignoring her laughter and then staring longingly at Rick. You sigh softly before turning to mumble, "If I ever get that man in the sack, you and the rest of the house will only have yourselves to blame. I don't want to hear any complaints about traumatizing noises."

She laughs out loud, holding her hands up in mock surrender. "If you get that man in the sack, I'll be so proud of you."

"Yeah, yeah. Just you wait and see."

#twd gen fic x reader #rick x reader #rick grimes x reader #the walking dead imagine #rick grimes imagine #the walking dead #rick grimes #maggie greene #daryl dixon #carol peletier #glenn rhee #carl grimes

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nightswithkookmin · 4 years ago

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Was Jk shading Taehyung during his New Years wishes to him at GDA? Twitter people are reading a LOT into it, saying that Jk is still salty at Tae and vice versa. They seem pretty chill to me. Why do people always find reasons to believe there is Vminkook drama?Is there a reason to think they aren't repairing their freindship?

VMINKOOK...

First of all, why would JK shade Taehyung? What are they fighting about, I wonder. Has anyone known JK to be the passive aggressive king slash shade throwing one in that trio? Because, not me...

I don't see him as the, 'those two are hanging out now followed by a slight head tilt,' kind of person. The 'Jimin wants to come but JK is keeping him from coming,' the 'well, you ignore me anyway so I couldn't tell you were on a mission' kind.

Or even the, 'my friendship relationships are gold to me and it's important for me to nurture those connections' knowing damn well the elephant in the room has a possessive streak and he himself has been on record, allegedly, stating he has one same age friend and all his friends are hyungs- so what is JK to you then Jimin?

Then the whole, 'texting is not a great way to build connections and is a barrier to effective communication' -words spewed in full cognizance of the fact JK is a bad texter yet prefers texting to talking on phone anyway- that is what I call shade. Not sure what was in the water that day, but chilee Jimin was all over the place in that Be Behind video. Lmho.

I think everyone, including even the semi-rational Tuktukker, know damn well what JK meant by that statement and what had prompted it- but leave it to them to circumvent.

Ah, V hyung... we used to have a special bond. When we were trainees, we had such great chemistry. V used to be the easiest hyung to talk to, now it's awkward.

Where is the shade in this? I don't think at all that he is or was in anyway shading Tae or any one. To shade would imply he has stock. He don't.

I hate when people talk about Tae Kook as if there is something wrong with their bond. There isn't. It is what it is. It's just not what their shoppers make it out to be. They are looking for depth where there is none. The fact of the matter is Tae Kook lacks depth to their dynamics. We know it, JK knows it, BigHit knows it. No amount of bullying Jimin or Jokers will add that missing depth back to their relationship. Sorry.

'He is still salty,' honey he was never salty about anything to begin with. They tried it! Making it sound like JK wants Tae to change in order to relate with him again. He don't.

Why would JK be salty about Tae's growth? Why would he object to Tae's growth?

Because that's what it is. This whole Tae Kook tensions is not about them fighting, it's about them growing apart. Tae grew the fuck up and JK can't relate with him or treat him the way he used to when they were young.

And if these self absorbed, legally blind shoppers looked beyond Tae Kook for a second, they will know it's not just JK complaining about Tae changing and becoming different as he grew up.

Tae used to be the easiest hyung to talk to and bully because they were closer in age and Tae allowed for such familiarity between them. Similar to how, Jin and Jimin allows for a certain degree of familiarity and informality between them and Jk.

While Tae allowed and was open to this level of closeness and informality between them, JK apparently held on to the gates, only scraping the surface of it and inhibiting the depth that could have been to their dynamics.

Was Tae content with that dynamic? No. Did he communicate that to JK? May be he did but JK wouldn't let his guards down. Tae failed to breach JK's emotional boundaries and years later he would express this sentiment openly to JK in their conversation in Soop.

Whereas, JK admitted to Jimin's successful breach of his emotional walls when he recounted the story of their rainy day fight- let me not hear any one compare Jikook to any of JK's ship in BTS, I whoop your ass. D!

This is the intimacy that is missing in Tae Kook. When you are close to someone, you not only feel at ease with them enough to express your thoughts freely with them, you are comfortable enough with them to be yourself, be different, to antagonize them without the fear that your differences and outbursts will sever your bond or lead to irreparable damage to your bond.

Fact is, in as much as JK felt close to Tae in the early days, he harbored a fear that being fully himself enough to be 'opinionated' and fully honest in his self expressions towards him, would break their bond.

He clearly didn't trust their bond was strong enough to handle all of that. That's the intimacy you find in Jikook. The trust. They are both unapologetically themselves with eachother because they trust in their bond.

Which means they share a lot but are also very opinionated with eachother, clash and assert themselves with eachother. And I know the kumbaya fake woke Jokers hate to hear it, but Jikook are strong not because they don't fight but because their bond withstands the test of a fight as Tae explained in his conversation with JK in Soop.

He was able to get closer with Jimin and Jin by being openly assertive with them- going against Jimin in the dumpling incident and all the times they fought, directly confrontational with Jin over their dance choreo but with JK he had always been scared to open himself in that way with him for whatever reason- I won't bother speculating on. It's their ship, they should do the maths.

May be he learned his lesson. He's learned not to fear conflict, to be assertive without fearing he would be punished for it, to be less passive aggressive as he was before and express himself and his feelings more openly over the years.

But it took him closing himself off to get there. Always looking in photos as if Yeontan ate the last brisket. Exuding melancholic vibes.

Young Jk equally didn't have a positive view on conflict and conflict resolution and I think he knew his place as the youngest and did not want to be as opinionated or assertive against them and so, as he explained to Tae in Soop, he opted to keep a safe distance emotionally from everyone- not just Tae.

When JK talks about we used to have a special bond, all he means is they used to be mischievous, get in trouble together, be brats, chat shit under their breaths behind their hyungs- partners in crime and as I like to call them, be the evil power duo of BTS.

They literally shared one brain cell lol, and conspired a lot. Their bond was unique only in that Tae was a rebel at heart and a bit innocent or immature as RM and the others would say.

Ship wise, Tae used to be on his side. He was protective of him and and looked out for him when they were young- that's of course before he started passive aggressively exposing JK's relationship with Jimin on VLives, incessantly shipping Jimin with Suga, dragging JK's ass away from JM's car so he could ride with him and all of those harmless moments that to anyone with little understanding of Tae's character would assume Tae didn't support JK's relationship.

And even after Soop, he put JK on the spot when he tried eye fucking Jimin through the view finder during their dynamite MV- he knew what JK was going to do. He's seen him do that a countless times to Jimin- HE KNOWS.

There is a reason JK gave him that look in the Dynamite shoot interview when he thought Tae was intentionally trying to expose him holding hands with Jimin behind Suga.

As much as these little things may be irritating to Kook, I don't think Tae gotta kiss his ass too. Jk can be messy sometimes with his Jikook agenda.

Of course they dynamic would change if Tae changed too- which is what Jimin and everyone says of Taehyung. He is very reserved and mature now. He is not the same childish, immature, reckless teen JK or Tuktukkers used to know.

He grew faster than either JK or JM had hoped and they both miss that part of him. Tae said he wished he could get a time machine and show Army the 'Chimchar' he was back in the day. The only way Taekook can be real is if we all hop into a time machine and go back in time to change the trajectory of events.

Tuktukkers need to let go of their old ship, that ship is dead and embrace the new ship brewing in its stead.

Jimin have said occasionally, that side of Tae pops out but he is very different from who he used to be when they were young. Which explains these outbursts of moments and interactions reminiscent of their past bond but that's all that is.

Why do these people insist on infantilizing Tae and holding him to his past?

That comment at GDA wasn't shade. But it was an inside Joke I feel. Like I said, when JK talks about their past history and bond, to me it's reference to a time period where Tae was on his side and was mischievous. To me it's code for 'I miss when you were less uptight and strict.'

He brought up when Tae gave them leeway and was lenient with their schedule during the making of Be- a sentiment all the members expressed in the Be behind video when they praised Tae for giving them much room in their schedules.

It was the same thing he said during his speech to Tae at GDA after bringing up the whole past bond thingy. He wanted to express appreciation to Tae perhaps because the loose schedule Tae had created had given him much time to go home and give his man a blowjob or go house shopping with him- who knows.

The way he kept looking at Jimin while saying that... yea. I'm going with that. Lol.

That loose schedule definitely put Tae in JK and JM's good graces.

My take away from that moment though, is- JK's agenda to give Tuktukkers hernia🤣

Lord I'm dying. I laughed so hard my ribs hurt. Pray for me. Lmho.

Chilee JK.

Dude is on a mission to run the entire Taekook gay, Taekook married propaganda campaign into the ground. What guts me is, he knows what Tae Kook is. I bet he went online after that Tae Kook Vlive to watch Tae Kook compilations. He's been on a mission to obliterate that ship since. Lol.

I mean I won't put it past him. Probably looked up Yoonmin while he was at it and showed Jimin analysis videos of him moaning in Suga's bedroom🤣🤣🤣🤣

Would explain why he was laughing when he saw Yoonmin in the comments during the VLive and why Jimin looked like he wanted to eat us alive. Lmho.

Oh Tae touched my peepee? You bloody moaned in Suga's bedroom how about we call it even?

ROTFL.

I joke but I mean, this is the same dude who took an online personality test after Tae read his results to him in Soop- he definitely watched those Tae Kook compilation-Y'all laugh else I'll shoot you. Lmho. I can't be the only one who finds this funny!

He knows what shipping is, he knows how statements like that would be construed by the fans- and the fact Jimin had spent an entire interview and behind scenes openly disavowing his glorified friendship connections... I smell a renewal of commitment somewhere.

Don't mind me. I play too much sometimes.

There is nothing wrong with Tae Kook's friendship. If anything, it seems JK feels very appreciative of Tae in recent times which is usually a good sign between them because for Vminkook to thrive they all need to make space for eachother and for the pairings amongst them to thrive- Vmin, Taekook and Jikook.

I hope this helps?

Signed,

GOLDY

#jikook #jikooktheories #jikook analysis #jikook bts #jikook is real #goldy analysis #ask response #ask goldy #goldy blogs #goldy #nightswithkookmin

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tetsuskitten · 4 years ago

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Could u wrote some ochako/Kirishima/bakugou?? Love that dynamic

Hey there! Thank you so much for this request! I had a lot of fun with this, I hope you like it!

every day is ours by tetsuskitten (on ao3)

The journalists gathered at the front of the venue like menacing cockroaches, the camera-men threatening with their flashing lights, blinking and blinding. Katsuki felt sick already, stomach turning at the thought of having to squeeze through the mass of strange bodies, people he didn’t know touching him so easily. He fussed with his tie, trying to let up the knot so he could breath.

A soft hand came up to his cheek and he closed his eyes to breathe in the saccharine perfume that wafted through the enclosed air of the limousine. A quick kiss was laid on him, followed by a thumb, which he assumed was Ochako cleaning away the lipstick she had just painted him with.

“Katsuki.” He opened his eyes, looking exhausted beyond his years. “I’m going to remind you again. If you feel like leaving, just come find us if we’re not there. I won’t have a repeat of last time.”

“Katsuki!” Eijirou piped up excitedly. “Eri will probably be there! You’ve been whining non-stop about how you never get to see her anymore, right?” Katsuki grunted, but he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of seeing Eri, grown up, healthy and happy. Aizawa-sensei and Yamada-sensei had really done a wonderful job of taking care of her these past few years. He and Izuku tried to visit as often as they could, but work never relented, and their own family life could be busy and chaotic.

Ochako and Eijirou both planted twin kisses on his cheeks before exchanging a kiss of their own. Lovesick disasters, the three of them.

As they left the car to face the crowds, a wall of noise hit them like a tall wave rushing from the sea. Katsuki was incredibly tempted to turn off his hearing-aids but past experiences have taught him it would only work to further confusion.

A loud person announced their arrival with all the fake excitement of a football commentator.

“And here comes pro-hero Uraravity! Draped in a long pinkish gown with strikes of flaring red, she looks fabulous! Her trademark bob is adorned with striking white flowers, she is a sight for sore eyes in the red carpet tonight! And on her right pro-hero Dynamight wearing a tight-fitting burgundy suit that has all of us on our knees! On her left, pro-hero Red Riot proving that he can indeed get bigger! Look at all those muscles, people. He’s wearing a flashy red get-up, not unlike his hero suit. We love to see it!”

They posed and took pictures as they walked slowly to the entrance of the venue. Thankfully, these people had incredibly short attention spans. They waved at the newly-arrived Hitoshi, and Denki who pulled up to the curb a few seconds later. Those two had no idea what being discreet meant, or more likely, they don’t care that much if they’re found out or not.

Denki jumped on Hitoshi’s arm the second he was close enough and the other made no motion to shrug him off. Yeah, this would be all over Hero Weekly come tomorrow. Lovesick fools, the lot of them.

Blessedly inside, the noise fell to a bearable thrum. There was chatter and up-beat orchestra music, but nothing too shrill. Katsuki let himself relax into the constant of it, getting used to the surroundings, looking for their friends.

Ochako was immediately attacked by a horned-devil, Mina jumping on her the second she arrived.

“You look amazing, Ocha! What’s that shade of lipstick?! Come on, Tsuyu and Jiro are here already and we’re doing shots ! Ei and Bakugou are coming too!” Mina didn’t wait long for the boys to say no, knowing they would most likely deny her anyway, as she bounded away with Ochako, who laughed whole-heartedly at her friend’s antics.

“She’s as lively as always, isn’t she?” Ei commented, smiling at the disappearing pair.

“I already have enough of that with you two.”

“Oh c’mon, you know you miss them!”

“Yeah, whatever.” Katsuki was barely finished with his sentence before an ear-splitting “Bakugou nii-chan!” warned him of the incoming blast to his chest.

Eijirou caught him with ease as he was propelled backwards from the sheer force of Eri’s running embrace. She gave him a devious smile, all teeth and childish glee. “You’re getting weaker, Baku nii-chan… Do you need the big strong Red Riot to save you?” She joked.

“Oh you-” He started, before Eijirou grabbed her and easily hoisted her on his large shoulders.

“Don’t worry, Eri-chan, I’ll save you from the big bad Bakugou!” He said, winking at a glaring Katsuki.

“Ei nii-chan…” She called, wonder in her voice. “I can see everything from up here!” she bounced excitedly.

“Oh. Daddy’s coming this way.”

Eijirou pulled her down and smiled sheepishly as Aizawa arrived.

“And what trouble are you three getting up to?” The man drawled, slow and sleepy as always, eyelids half-closed in the harsh lighting of the venue.

“No trouble at all.” Eri offered, smiling and blinking innocently between the two heroes.

“I hear Kota has arrived.” Aizawa said slyly.

“Kota’s here?!” Eri’s red eyes opened wide and she bounced excitedly. “Let’s say hi, please?” She pleaded, as if Shouta denied her much in life. Her young eyes were bright and full of life, Shouta couldn’t help but give her a soft look in return and smile.

“Of course. Say goodbye to Bakugou and Kirishima.”

She turned around to hug them tightly and pointed in a very commanding tone. “Stay right here. I’ll be back.” And skidded away in a flurry of limbs, looking for her next target.

“She’s a handful.” Katsuki said, shaking his head with a fond look plastered on his face.

“Remind you of someone, does she?” That earned Eijirou a glare, but all he did was laugh it off.

“Come on, he’s probably already here too. Let’s find him.”

They pushed their way inside the ballroom, stopping for short greetings and snacks, until they found Izuku in a heated discussion with Ochako about… carpeting? Those two were definitely on their fourth round of drinks.

The night passed them by rather quickly, to Katsuki’s surprise. He even felt a little disappointed to go home. He didn’t get to see everyone together that often anymore, or outside of a fight, which really wasn’t quality bonding time as far as he was concerned.

Eijirou draped his jacket over Ochako’s shoulders before they stepped outside into the cold night air and she was safely cocooned in his arms, swaying only slightly and dozing off as she walked.

Katsuki opened the door for them and as soon as they were inside, Ochako nested herself between them, seeking heat and comfort. Katsuki pillowed her head on his thigh and pushed the disarrayed mess of brown locks from her eyes before placing a kiss on her temple. She snuggled closer, but didn’t otherwise acknowledge her surroundings.

When he looked up Eijirou was looking at them with that doe-eyed look he saved for moments he thought were truly manly .

She’s cute when she sleeps, Katsuki signed and Eijirou agreed.

When they pulled up to their home, Eijirou carried a sound-asleep Ochako up the stairs and into their bedroom. They took her gown off gently, trying their best not to disturb her too much, before letting her slip under the covers in her underwear.

Eijirou pulled the bedroom door half-closed and followed Katsuki to the kitchen, where he was already preparing a late night snack for them.

“Want some help?” Ei asked, arms wrapping around Katsuki’s smaller frame, warm hands slithering under his vest and undershirt.

“Make some tea. She won’t sleep for long.” He answered, letting his head fall back into the sturdy support of Ei’s chest. Eijirou snickered.

“I like you like this.”

“What? Tired out of my mind?”

Eijirou shook his head. “No. Just… peaceful.”

Katsuki snorted. “You sayin’ I’ve gone soft?”

Eijirou turned him around, hands automatically coming to rest on Katsuki’s small waist.

“The softest.” He said, stealing a long kiss from the blond before he could start protesting.

The pitter-patter of small feet on the floorboards pulled them out of their quiet late night intimacy.

Ochako walked up to them and practically fell into their embrace, sleep-rumpled, an enormous black shirt covering her frame.

“Feelin’ regret yet?” Katsuki fake-mocked, free hand running through the knots on her hair. Ochako groaned as a response.

“You know, baby, I think this dress looks much better on you than all that pink nonsense.” Eijirou told her, appreciating the way his shirt fell down her body, stopping mid-thigh. She pulled her head up enough to glare.

“That dress was expensive, Eijirou.” He hummed and grabbed her at the waist, earning a gasp before he lifted her up to sit on the wide kitchen island.

“Yes, but there was not even a glimpse of your beautiful legs.” He told her, big hands squeezing her strong thighs. “Though it did hug you perfectly here.” He gripped at her waist. “Here.” He smoothed a hand over her breasts.

Katsuki came up behind her, kissing the side of her neck and whispering. “Don’t listen to him, you looked fucking perfect, but I would have ripped that dress off you if I could’have.”

“Boys…” She warned weakly.

They paused and smiled at her, kissing her skin gently and helping her back down.

“We’re making tea and pancakes, go lay down on the couch, we’ll wake you up soon.” Katsuki told her, but she shook her head.

“I’ll stay here. Watch you cook.”

Katsuki placed one last lingering kiss on her lips before going back to mixing batter. Eijirou put the kettle on and prepared their tea before sitting down and pulling Ochako into his lap, fitting her between his legs.

They ate in silence, the only sounds heard throughout the house were the ever busy streets outside. Tomorrow was entirely theirs and there were hiking plans in motion, picnics on mountain-tops and rolling around in the dirt, swimming in the lakes. Today though, there was nothing more to do than give themselves up to sleep, huddled up together, bone-tired and satisfied, content after a night well spent.

#kirikacchako #kacchako #kirichako #kiribaku #tetsuskittenwrites #bnha rarepairs #bnha #rarepairrequests #natus-ex-stellae

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svnflowervol666 · 5 years ago

Note

that dating headcanon was everything🥺 could u do an nsfw one??? l

Word Count: 1.6k

Author’s Note: SFW headcanons can be read here. Hope you enjoy, love bug!! I could go on for hours about this, but I tried to keep my rambling to a minimum. Requests are still open. Take care and tpwk.

First and foremost, Harry radiates the most soft dom energy I have ever seen in a human

I think he enjoys a good power dynmanic and kink, but at the end of the day sex to him is about having fun and doing what feels good

“Team work makes the dream work,” is something I’m almost positive his corny ass would blurt out one night post coitus when you’re both coming down from your highs

I don’t even mean this in a nsfw way (but also I do), but I genuinely believe Harry is one of those boyfriends who likes to have his hands on you as much as it is physically possible

A hand on the small of your back when you’re in public, your bare leg hiked over his while you’re watching tv, his hand resting on your knee while he drives

He’s all about intimacy, even if it isn’t sexual in nature

With this being said, it definitely does turn sexual in nature more often than not

When you’re cuddled up on the sofa watching a shitty horror film and you accidentally grind yourself against him when you reach over for your mug and then you feel him growing hard against your backside, you know you’ve got approximately 7 minutes before the movie is long forgotten and Harry’s got you spread out on the cushions

He’s much more of a giver than he is a receiver

(But let’s be honest he certainly doesn’t mind kicking back and letting you do all of the work from time to time)

He gets off knowing he’s the one getting YOU off

It’s almost addictive to him

So, clearly, he loves going down on you

One too many times have you been stirred from your sleep to feel Harry’s stubble grazing your stomach and moving down towards your navel and you know exactly what he wants

But he won’t give it all to you that easily

He teases you until you’re squirming and practically bucking your hips up into his lips, anything to feel more friction against the heat that Harry has created

Tiny, featherlight kisses on the insides of your thighs and around your core

Everywhere but where you need him the most

He thinks it makes you taste even sweeter knowing how badly you want his tongue on you

He loves eating you until your thighs are trembling and he has to force them to stay open by gripping them so harshly that you end up with ring marks pressed into your skin

He takes care of you, meaning he refuses to stop until he makes you cum

Not in an aggressive way, just that he doesn’t see the point in having sex if the two of you aren’t having equally as much fun, ya know?

As far as actual sex goes, Harry is a powerhouse

He’s got more stamina out of anyone you’ve ever met, and it sometimes has you wondering if he’s even human sometimes

He can go for quite literally hours without letting up even a tiny bit, his hips drilling into you until you’ve got bruises and are sore the next morning

Only to add to how much of a little shit we all know Harry is, watching you limp around his house the next morning is one of the most satisfying and entertaining things to him

I think he is the king of trying out new positions and working out what feels right and what doesn’t, but he’ll always prefer some good old fashioned missionary over any kinky, yoga sex position

It’s more intimate and personal to him, being able to see how pleasure washes over your face as he drives himself further and further into you

How your bodies are as close together as they can possibly be

It’s simple, but when you love someone, it’s enough

However, I get the sense that Harry is totally down to experiment in the bedroom

As I said earlier, I am certain that Harry enjoys indulging in some of his kinks every now and then

First and foremost, this man has a BREEDING KINK

He loves filling you up with his cum and watching it overflow and seep out of you and then gathering the excess on his fingers and stuffing it back inside of you

It is somewhat of a territorial thing, marking you as his and his only

But it’s also a trust thing, that you both love each other enough to indulge in the most primitive of acts, and Harry is all about that

I’m not going to go off on a tangent about how Harry eventually gets off on the idea of breeding you to actually get you pregnant, but it’s true so it must be at least mentioned in this post

Something about seeing you round and glowing with his baby, one that you created together, makes him feel some type of way

If it’s possible, he’s even hornier when you’re pregnant

He loves leaning against the headboard and having you ride him with your belly in between the two of you

ANYWAYS

Apart from the vanilla shenanigans and the massive breeding kink, I also totally see Harry as the type to have an entire marketplace of toys hidden in a trunk underneath his bed or in his closet

Whether it’s expensive leather restraints that he loves to tie you up with or an array of different types of vibrators that he loves to turn on and watch you get off without his hand, he’s got just about one of everything so he’s always prepared

There are also times when he loves to let you take control as well

Sometimes it’s when he feels the weight of the world on his shoulders and all he wants to do is let someone else take care of things for once or simply if he’s just in the mood to be submissive, the man truly has the range

But he will always reign as a soft dom

When he’s on tour, he loves calling you to help him get off

He’ll always do the same in return for you, but he misses your presence so much while he’s away that taking care of himself alone isn’t nearly the same

Which is why you sometimes receive texts or calls at odd hours of the night from Harry asking you to talk to him while he strokes his cock

He loves watching you get off as well, so if the timing lines up, he’s prone to video chatting you so that you can both watch each other while you work your way over the edge

Not to be a crackhead, but Harry definitely bought of those Clone-A-Willy’s for you to use while he’s away

I wouldn’t say Harry’s so much into the act of risky, public sex as much as he really is just that horny and utilizes every advantage he can to get you both off, even if it means everyone knows exactly what you two were doing when you both come out of the same room with ruffled hair and are breathing heavy like you just ran a marathon

After a high energy show, when his veins are pumping with adrenaline and he swears performing makes him feel higher than any drug, he’ll beeline to the room where you were waiting for him in and have his way with you right there on the couch (or the closet, or the bathroom, or the back of his bus if he’s using one)

When he comes home from the studio to see you cooking in only one of his ratty t-shirts and your underwear, he sees no problem in hoisting you up on the cold, marble countertop and letting his dinner burn in the name of a good shag

I also think Harry is an angry sex type of guy as well

The last thing he wants is to hold grudges over you, so if you’re arguing and only going in circles and Harry is well aware you both will be over whatever it was that you were mad about in the morning, said argument usually ends abruptly when Harry backs you up against the wall and smashes his lips against yours

His thrusts are even more intense and sharp and you can see the slight snarl in his lip as he grips the headboard harshly and properly makes a mess of you

Harry really is an every-occasion guy when it comes to sex and that is a given, but I also think he leans on sex when he’s sad or upset?

Like if he’s just having a day where everything is getting under his skin and he feels small, he comes to you with those lust blown, yet dull-looking eyes that let you know he really just needs you right now

You let him take what he needs, because he does more for you than you could ever explain with words and if what he needs is a little bit of sex to make everything feel okay, even if it’s only temporary relief, it’s the least you feel like you can do

To feel his hips roll lazily into yours and to feel his warm breath trailing all over your face and maybe the occasional tear fall from his cheek that you brush away with your thumb as you cradle his face

Times like these often resort in cockwarming, where Harry just needs to feel you and know that you’re there and you’re not going anywhere

He tries not to let things get to him and often regrets the ways he choses to cope with how he sometimes thinks he’ll never catch a break, but he always talks when he’s ready, so nothing ever goes unmentioned

Plus, he knows he’d do the same thing for you in a heart beat

Harry is the softest lover and those are just the facts!

#harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #asks

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a-libra-writes · 4 years ago

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💋🎭 for margaery please!! and your dogs are really cute!

sure thing!! Im adding another bc that was also requested. & my gremlins say thank you 💕💕

💥First Fight / Make Up HC

You both had plenty of silly little spats when you were girls. You and Margaery would go to your rooms and pout, determined to never talk to each other again, but then you’d get lonely and go back to each other. All of your parents never bothered intervening because they knew you two would make up eventually.

You and Margaery still like to joke about what your first fight was, and the story gets more exaggerated with each telling.

As you grew older, those fights became less frequent, since you were ladies and had to act properly. There weren’t many things you and Margaery disagreed on enough to fight, anyway; you both respected each other’s opinions.

The trouble came with the war. You hated the way Margaery was being passed around like a pawn, and she was unhappy with how her family was treating you, too. You were her closest confidant, but ultimately disposal if anything happened. Your house was nothing compared to the Tyrells.

You both disagreed on what was right and wrong with the decisions her family was making. It was becoming a problem, this rift between the two of you, and then there was Queen Cersei. You knew for certain she was spying on you and Margaery, suspecting something, and that just added to the stress.

So you both fought. The yelling, the arguing, the works. You didn’t even think about a servant overhearing until after the fight, but by then you were tired. You wanted to leave King’s Landing behind, but your parents would never allow it. You were trapped.

After days of awkward silences and cold looks, it was Margaery who sought you out first. Just like when you were children, she sneaked into your room and sat on your bed, uncaring if any servant happened to see the queen walking around in her nightclothes.

“Enough of dancing around each other, can’t we talk? You’re the only person I can trust, Y/N. You’ve always been the only one with me.”

You know you have her heart, no matter who she has to marry, and you wish it didn’t have to be like this. You’ve wished that a thousand times by now, but this is the world you occupy. These are the rules you’ve always had to obey.

🎭Jealousy HC

Margaery thinks highly of herself, in both her looks and her wit. You never knew her to envy another lady in court, or even a man, for whatever reason. She was raised well and lovingly, and wanted for little.

Except for your attention. When you were children and you’d make a new lady friend, you’d notice Margaery would always want to intrude on the two of you. She did it skillfully, suggesting that the three of you should spend time together... then she’d find a way to distract you and pull your attention on her.

This was childish jealousy, something she began to grow out of once you two were older and were expected to keep many lady friends and handmaidens. The little jealousy returned once you were a couple.

When a lady would be particularly forward when talking to you, Margaery would appear, linking your arms together and giving sweet but pointed jabs to the other lady.

If a lord or knight was pestering you with his attempts at flirting, Margaery would do much the same, charming him and convincing him some other lady had wanted to see him.

Margaery would be much more jealous if she knew a lady flirting with you understood the arrangement you both had, and was still trying to get between you two. You were her precious flower, and she wasn’t one to share, especially since you were a rarity - someone she’d known for years and could trust entirely.

Still, her jealousy would never become possessive. The most she’d do is pout or roll her eyes and ignore you for an evening - and that was only if you flirted back. Margaery trusts you, but like most people, she doesn’t like silly games and being made to feel this way on purpose.

💋Intimacy HC

She’s very touchy and affectionate once you both are alone, mostly because of the trouble it takes to get alone and ensure no one will come barging in. If it’s been a long time, sometimes she wants to get straight to the main event before spending time cuddling and continuing.

She really loves a warm bath beforehand, where you can touch and kiss each other and just relax. She’ll want to undo your clothes and hair herself, leaving you light kisses and laughs as you touch her just as much.

Back when you both were watched far less closely, you’d spend hours in bed, alternating between curling up together and pleasuring each other.

Margaery likes to give and receive equally. She likes it when you’re forward, but sometimes she wants to push you down and make you come until your legs are jelly.

She tries not to leave marks, and she wants you to do the same. It’s too risky, but she might let you leave some hickeys on her thighs and stomach.

Margaery just has to cuddle afterward. She can be surprisingly needy about it and gets upset if you refuse. The sensation of feeling your warm, tired body against her’s is something she likes just as much as the act itself. She wants to nuzzle into your shoulder and run her fingers through your hair.

It makes sense that she doesn’t care for quickies; she’d rather be patient and wait to have a full, proper night with you. It’s the same reason she’d rather not invite a third person into the bedroom, or risk sneaking out somewhere and being caught - she’s always, always aware of the risks.

She’s so devilish when it comes to finding your weak spot. Wherever it is, she’ll find it. And if it’s somewhere she can innocently touch or brush up against in public ... Sorry, you’re getting teased. No escape.

On the other hand, she’s more secretive of her sensitive spots and turned beet red when you first discovered them.

She’s also open to experimentation, she’s heard all sorts of things from her ladies and wants to talk to you about them. Margaery sees no shame in her sexuality, and wants to explore things with you.

#margaery tyrell x reader #got x reader #game of thrones x reader #libra headcanons #lord im so sloooooow #also so gaaay

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watching-pictures-move · 3 years ago

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Put On Your Raincoats #28 | American Babylon (Watkins, 1985)

Roger Watkins spent most of his career making pornos, something which he apparently hated, and in American Babylon he turns that hatred directly at the audience. The movie is about two bozos. Losers. Schlubs. One of them, played by Bobby Astyr, spends his days doing little but watching pornography, oblivious to his surroundings and annoyed by interruptions. When his wife steps in front of the projector, he grouses at her to get out of the way. "Evaporate, Joan!" The other, played by Michael Gaunt, is weak-willed, easily goaded into doing or saying anything, whatever is the path of least resistance. Neither Astyr nor Gaunt are what you'd call conventionally attractive, and combined, they are some of the least flattering portraits of masculinity to grace the screen. I read somewhere that the popularity of unattractive men in straight porn is to help the target audience relate more easily to the proceedings. Watkins brings into focus the implied contempt in that trope.

As someone who spent a non-zero amount of time over the last year delving into vintage pornography, this movie hit a little close to home. When Astyr starts critiquing the camera angles in the movie he's watching, I felt personally attacked. Astyr's choice of entertainment here is in the form of plotless reels with titles like Teenage Pigmeat in Heat, a film by Bernard America, and Butt Girls in Bondage, directed by Hank Packard (which sounds like a dig at Henri Pachard's pretentious porn name), and starring Lonnie Lee as the Butt Girl. Astyr appears to be getting off on their dehumanizing quality ("Hey Robert, I just realized something. They don't show anybody's faces in this movie." "Of course not, it's so much better that way, it could be anybody.") The reels are shot in cold, sterile black-and-white, their mise-en-scene (power tools, gym equipment) suggesting a parody of masculinity. (I admit I was a little concerned when the male performer was firing a blowtorch in the direction of the female performer while they engaged in sexual congress.) Watkins had been steadily removing any sense of warmth or eroticism from his sex scenes, but also seems aware of the limitations of this approach (especially when you cast a performer like Taija Rae, sporting a lady mullet, hubba hubba). His critique seems targeted at the genre as a whole, which despite the level of artistry it can contain (and I'm very much on the side of pornographic films being artistically worthwhile), is ultimately in the service of prurient interests, but in retrospect, feels prescient of the kind of gonzo pornography that would become the norm in the decades that followed. There's no need for plot, character, warmth, humanity, just body parts mashing against each other. That Astyr is seen usually in a raincoat and motorcycle helmet drives the point home.

Gaunt's character is depicted just as brutally but with a bit more humour. This is a guy whose most strenuous decision in his marriage (and source of tension with his wife) is whether or not he'll drink his milk. (His wife, seen topless and in panties and heels, in a skewering of genre demands, leaves him an angry note: "P.S. Drink your milk".) Astyr's wife, played by Tish Ambrose, in need of the kind of intimacy she doesn't get from her husband, sees Gaunt as an easy mark and sets up a rendezvous at a country western bar. Their exchange and her attempt at seduction are telling.

"You strike me as the kind of guy who's good at taking orders."

"Yeah, I guess so, my wife thinks so anyway."

"You want something to drink?"

"Yeah, I guess so, my wife thinks so anyway."

"I'm not wearing any underwear."

"I beg your pardon."

"The only thing separating skirt and my quivering pussy is a layer of air. What do you think of that?"

"Me? I don't know what to think."

Gaunt reveals a talent for physical comedy with his gawking, indecisive face during their tryst, his slapstick-like scramble out of his clothes, his dash with an empty cup as part of his excuse sneak out for another tryst ("I told my wife I was coming over to borrow a cup of sugar"), and his nervous patting of strap-on before he excuses himself out of a threesome. One encounter occurs when watching a porno with Astyr, who seems entirely oblivious to what's going on right beside him but also happy to have them around. ("My best friend and my best wife, finally taking an interest in my one true passion.") Their attempts at bonding seem self-defeating from both directions, as when Astyr tries to initiate a heart-to-heart, it's not clear how truthful Astyr's tale of young love or his recollection of a threesome that sounds suspiciously like one of his movies and the one Gaunt partook in. ("They were sisters, Thomas, sisters! That's what they told me afterwards. They might have been lying of course, It's human nature to lie.") When the visual style switches over to those of his movies, the indictment is complete, but in the final ten minutes, the movie finds something of an emotional core with a montage (Menopausal Males in Bondage) that recontextualizes the proceedings from Ambrose's perspective, while dissolving the boundaries between Astyr, Gaunt, and their porno movies. A beret and checked coat, first sported by Taija Rae, helps provide a visual throughline.

While I won't deny that the kind of masculinity exemplified by the protagonists, while flawed, feels a lot more benign than the kind of toxic masculinity that's been the focus of modern discourse, the laser focus of Watkins' indictment makes the movie work. Where the movie is less cogent but admirably bold is in situating its protagonists and their pathetic suburban existence as some kind of endpoint for American civilization. The opening credits have illustrations of historical images, evangelical radio is heard on and off throughout the movie, and after the aforementioned montage, the film closes with "American the Beautiful". In a brief but forceful sequence, we hear news of Lee Harvey Oswald's murder by Jack Ruby, Walter Mondale's acceptance speech at the 1984 DNC ("Mr. Reagan calls it "tokenism". We call it America.") and the bombing of North Vietnam, while Gaunt's wife (seen again in the nude, to sate the horndogs) fires a shotgun and the screen cuts to black. Watkins produces a passage from "The Harlot's House" by Oscar Wilde to drive home the sense of finality. ("The dead are dancing with the dead, the dust is whirling with the dust.") The protagonists' suburban homes are presented effectively as purgatorial spaces, captured in cold, isolating cinematography by Larry Revene, who had collaborated previously with Watkins on Corruption and Midnight Heat. Like the latter, I watched this in a not very nice video-sourced transfer, although it didn't seem quite as detrimental here (aside from the terrible audio quality, which made Gaunt's whistling sound like nails on a chalkboard). The look of the movie is effectively sterile, with a heavy reliance of moody bluish lighting that comes through even in a less pristine copy. (I understand that this didn't play theatrically, so I'm willing to limit my complaining.) It's also worth noting that while not detrimentally so to the film's overall argument, I did find Astyr's porno movies stylish in their way, and that I was not immune to the charms of Taija Rae, particularly with the beret and lady mullet I alluded to earlier. Folks, I'm not made of stone.

#film #put on your raincoats #movie review #american babylon #roger watkins

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morwensteelsheen · 4 years ago

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farawyn and borodred for the ship ask game thing?

thank you so much!! :)

okay i’ll start with borodred because for some unfathomable reason i actually got there first —

1. What made you ship it?

One of my favourite Types of ships is the Elder Statesmen Of War-type set-ups, where it’s less about people brought together through theatrical romantic gestures and more about the steadiness of people who are going through similar (immensely difficult) circumstances, who know that in their hearts they’re always going to put their duty to that cause first, but still seek out human comfort in other people who will understand what their priorities are and why.

I think there’s also a lot of similarities about the kind of helplessness they both face despite having this tremendous innate strength. Both of them still have to deal with family dynamics that are complex (made more complex by the war) and that can’t be fixed just by their own sheer will power; both of them die these utterly unnecessary deaths (not that death makes a ship but I think in this instance it actually points to the constant tragedy these guys face); and both of them are meant to be the principal figures of their families and people and are ultimately sidelined by the cruel mechanisations of war and the forward march of history or whatever wanky term there is for it — my apologies to ep thompson's ghost, dont haunt me bro.

Plus there’s obviously the interesting thread raised when Faramir starts bitching about Gondor and likens Gondor (and by very explicit extension, Boromir) to Rohan. That always made me go ‘Hmmmmmm, wonder what else Boromir liked about Rohan,’ lmao.

Anyways for me the ship is the equivalent of Star Wars’ Kanan and Hera or (my OTP to end all others) Luke and Wedge, just people getting by on love and duty and without big ol fancy romance.

2. What are your favorite things about the ship?

The fanon, I think, really makes it, as with so many other LOTR ships. battlefield manners, by themightypen is essentially the definitive take for me on them — these two guys who are just so fucking exhausted, man, but still overcome by defensive love for their families, even if their (foster-)siblings are naïve fools. That I just love, love, love. Plus I think they’re unique for their ability to pretty comfortable explore the relationship between Gondor & Rohan in advance of the Ring War without having to stray too far into AU, which I always appreciate.

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

Not really, tbh, except in that I don’t think Boromir is necessarily as laddy as people like to portray him. I’m happy to play into it in, say, my modern AUs because I think that’s a fun and sweet niche for him, but I am a bit 🤪 about Boromir as this kind of reckless, drunken playboy (not least because I think that’s a much funnier niche for Faramir to fill, at least when he’s younger). Chapter Four of Swaddledog’s Hearts and Minds gets my preferred Boromir characterisation absolutely spot on, I think.

And now, sigh, the ultimate OTP, Farawyn —

1. What made you ship it?

For starters, I think I am obsessed with Éowyn in a way I’ve never quite been obsessed with any other fictional character. I came to reading LOTR at this moment in my life where I was intensely frustrated about everything — trapped inside permanently (helplessly!) because of the pandemic, just starting a new political organisation that I truly believed in but that was still making me feel like shit, facing down an untenable about of work, and, fundamentally, really, really hating being a woman and what that means. And along comes Éowyn, who is bitter, who is cold, who is ANGRY, and who doesn’t perform joy or softness or gentleness just because people expect her to. She’s this seminal Woman Of War in so many ways, I think the kind of person a lot of us wish we could be. She’s got her emotional taps cut off at the source, she holds her head high and faces down unimaginable personal and political terrors, and at the end of it all still has this abiding love for her family that, I would argue, is almost unparalleled by anyone else in the book.

After all that, she gets this incredible moment of emotional catharsis (or what we expect to be emotional catharsis): “no living man am I!” She undertakes THE greatest martial act of the Ring War, and in that moment there’s this unbelievably sophisticated dialogue happening about gender (“Éowyn it was, and Dernhelm also”), and leadership (Merry finding his courage not because of the immediate scenario of the Witch-king, but because he’s spurred into it by Éowyn’s presence), and love and care.

And then we learn that no, actually, this glorious act of violence wasn’t the emotional catharsis we thought it would be. She gets to ride to war, she gets to throw herself headlong at death, and in the end that hopeless act of individualism isn’t really what does it for her. She’s still left desolate and despairing, and actually all of her problems haven’t gone away.

And then we need to rewind a bit, because along comes Faramir, who is gentle, and is kind, and does seem to believe in joy, but not because people expect it — actually it's made abundantly clear nobody expects it — but because it’s something quite innate to how he figures the world. And he’s a huge fucking nerd too. I have a lot of thoughts on Faramir’s flaws and why I find them endearing, which I won’t put here, but almost immediately you get this sense of a guy who’s quite melodramatic, good humoured, and very much not made to live in a time of war.

But he’s also clear-headed about war and what it requires (tactically, if not strategically, though that’s a post for another day), but who is kind of cynical and weary of it in his own unique way. And it’s a unique cynicism given his personal circumstances because he’s the second son of The great family of Gondor, he’s apparently — though with some big ol’ question marks hanging about the extent — very able to command some of the elite units in the realm, and what’s more than that, he’s got all these fantastical powers (the light mind reading to start, to say nothing of this apparently magical ability to command animals too. bruh.). By all accounts he should be this brazen hot mess, but he’s not. He’s desperate to claw his way out of this war-torn cage of expectation his people have for how a man should comport himself in time of war. Is it a little naïve? Sure. A little fussy? Absolutely. But does it point to that same desperation that Éowyn has? Yes! But also the practicality, like, neither of them are really enjoying the circumstances they live under, but good fucking god are they both able to Make It Work.

So finally we get to the Houses of Healing and what is the finest and most aggressively romantic writing of LOTR. Seriously, it’s so fucking much. It’s breathtaking. It reminds me quite viscerally of this fabulous quote from Les Mis:

The power of a glance has been so much abused in love stories, that it has come to be disbelieved in. Few people dare now to say that two beings have fallen in love because they have looked at each other. Yet it is in this way that love begins, and in this way only.

At some point I will devote more time to talking about the two reasons line, and the blissful Queen of Gondor speech, but I think to me that big, important line is: “And then her heart changed, or at least she understood it; and the winter passed, and the sun shone upon her.”

It’s not about Éowyn changing herself entirely (though, I think, it really does bear mentioning that she does change, and that’s every bit as important to understanding that scene as it is romantic), it’s about Éowyn coming to terms with how to live with herself as herself, and how to live in communion with someone else. She can’t just cut people out anymore, and she can’t just treat them as objects of infatuation as she did with Aragorn, she has to reckon with people as they are. And that’s sort of the moment where I knew I was about to plunge fully off the deep end with these two and never know a moments’ peace again, lmao.

2. What are your favorite things about the ship?

Someone on here once called Farawyn a love letter to women and, by god, yes, exactly that. I love the capacity for emotional intimacy, that is beautiful in ways I can’t express. To me, though, my favourite thing is the promise of life they speak of. Not as in oh they shag loads and have babies (though not opposed to that, obviously), but in the sense that unlike Aragorn and Arwen, who are always going to be buried under/burdened with the crushing weight of history and tradition, Éowyn and Faramir are going out yonder those hills and they’re going to do some real cottagecore farming shit. Obviously with all the trappings of rank and nobility and whatnot, but they, unique to anybody else in the books, get to sow this new idea of what life should be. They are, outside of Aragorn, the single most powerful people in Gondor. Éowyn’s got the ear of a king, a steward (which is essentially a prime-ministerial deal here), and functionally her own prince (if the hobbits are to be believed when they refer to it as essentially hers). I suspect that, in life, there were remarkably few arguments she wasn’t winning, and that Ithilien probably trended towards the jumped up noble hippie camp Tolkien so desperately wanted Oxford to be (or, in other words — Cambridge, lol).

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

Yeah, man, everybody stop treating Faramir like he’s a big fucking crybaby and Éowyn like she’s some kind of shrieking 2010-era tumblr girl.

One of the single most important lines defining Faramir’s character is when Denethor roasts his ass for always trying to appear noble and lordly, if you ignore every other piece of textual evidence we have about him, what part of that line makes you think Faramir’s some simpering daisy? And why would you want to link tremendous emotional intelligence and care with being too limp-wristed to function, lol??? Like I struggle loads with writing Faramir, because I have never once in my life tried to be noble or self-restrained, so find it hard to get into that mindset, but better, I think, to imagine him too closed off than to do this wilting flower song and dance lmao.

And stop making Éowyn out to be this over-emotional angst machine. She’s got problems, yes, and she’s sure as shit got a lot of angst, but at almost every point in the book where we’re overtly dealing with her emotions, she’s sublimating them into something else. One of the most serious times we see her cry is when she’s fighting with Aragorn about riding out, and after that moment she literally tries to kill herself. Those tears aren’t standard, man, that’s a real watershed (lol) moment for her. You have to read around what the text is saying to get a better feel why everybody’s constantly calling her cold and distant.

#god this is probably obnoxiously long because i can't do cuts on my phone #but refuse to open the tumblr website on my laptop lmao #faramir #éowyn #boromir #théodred #farawyn #borodred #god sorry for these fucking tags man im just trying to make my blog slightly more organised #i just have a lot of thoughts #i should really write more metas it would probably help my writing out quite a bit #asks #meta

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tobesobri · 5 years ago

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𝒜 lot happens in this chapter. You’re welcome and I’m sorry at the same time. If you’d like a preview of Chapter 11 right now, you can join my patreon here! Thank you so much for all the love and support with this story ❤️

huge massive thank you to the incredible @youresogolden-h for editing ❤️

CHAPTER TEN: DANCE IN MY LIVING ROOM (5.7K)

Harry and Y/N are friends…. with benefits, but not the kinds you’re thinking of.

🥥MASTERLIST 🌃INSPO TAG 🌻ASK TAG 💃PLAYLIST 🛌

Harry’s mind went to overthinking mode again when he was alone. When he was tidying his room and hiding Y/N’s things in case Will decided to come upstairs for whatever reason and see replicas of all her toiletries on his counter. The impromptu party was in four hours but when he walked back into his room and stared at his bed, he quickly got lost in his thoughts.

The last time he’d seen her had been Wednesday night.

And it was because he couldn’t stand it anymore. He couldn’t stop picturing her crying alone in her bed and then crying himself into hysterics about it. He even tried washing every piece of his bedspread to get her scent off his pillowcases just so he could get some sleep, but that still didn’t work. The distance he thought he needed had only made him miserable, even more so than before. She didn’t have to care about him, he supposed, he just needed to see her.

So that’s what he ended up texting her at ten o’clock at night. On Wednesday.

(Harry, 10:02 pm)

Please come over.

I need you.

It was desperate, he knew that. But it had worked. She showed up thirty minutes later with her usual backpack, and ten minutes after that in her usual spot under the covers with him.

She hadn’t wanted to at first, because it was late and because it had been a while since he had last asked her to come over, but him needing her was what did the trick in the end. She knew she was sad and alone and she assumed he was as well. That’s why they’d gotten into this mess and the first place, to not be so sad and alone anymore, so it would have been a text she’d regret ignoring, that much she knew.

Things were still different, though. He’d been the one cozied up to her side this time. It was his head resting on her collarbone, his hair tickling her skin. His arms wrapped tightly around her entire body like maybe he really did need her. And that’s how he’d fallen asleep, using her as a pillow while she stayed up, switching between staring out his window and at him. At his back as he inhaled and exhaled evenly. At his face when she periodically pushed his hair out of it and periodically played with said hair. He was asleep anyways, he’d never know the difference.

He had needed someone, she reminded herself. Not anyone in particular. He needed what she needed. But for her, there wasn’t anyone else. No one really quite knew her like Harry did and she wasn’t about to go out tomorrow and find someone to replace him. She’d known him for over a year, having a dormant sense of trust in him even before they started all this. It wasn’t easy for her to jump into things, and even though she knew it wasn’t a piece of cake for him either, he managed better than she ever had.

She had thought about his journal while he slept, and whether or not it was in his nightstand like it usually was. Even with things slowly breaking apart, she could never do that to him. As much as she had wanted to, she couldn’t read through something so personal to him, especially when she didn’t have his permission. She knew she’d grow to resent him a little bit if the roles were reversed.

So, she kept her mind off of it. She had kept her mind off of everything except for the present because it was easier to tolerate. Harry sleeping soundly on her chest like he wanted to be there was all that had mattered.

And when it was Friday night just before people started arriving at his doorstep he missed her all over again. Every single close friend that showed up to his door that wasn’t Y/N didn’t get the same attention he knew he’d give to her.

Luckily for him, however, Will was in charge of something, which meant he’d be arriving earlier than most. Harry had the alcohol covered and a couple of leftover chip bags from previous nights to tide everyone over until Will arrived, even though he still managed to run late, as per usual.

When Will did finally show up, Harry stood in the middle of his foyer, surrounded by others who had just gotten there, completely out of breath. And it wasn’t because he’d just ran around his house like a chicken with its head cut off--which he had done earlier in the evening--it was because of who slid through the doorway right behind Will.

Who was at his house dressed in something other than jeans or sweatpants. Who was, in fact, in something he’d never seen her in before. And if he had, he hadn’t been looking at her with the same pair of eyes he was now.

Will greeted him first, using his free hand to go in for their typical handshake while Harry was still far too preoccupied with Y/N. He stared at her from over Will’s shoulder while she stood there out of place. She made him feel like his brain wasn’t in his head anymore but he somehow operated anyways, no matter how poorly he was doing it. His ears started ringing and he grew uncomfortably hot in his outfit while struggling to make out the words to tell Will to put the fucking cheese and crackers in the kitchen already and leave them be.

“So where’s this girl at?” Will asked suddenly, glancing around the room, unaware that he was pressing every single one of Harry’s nerves.

Harry’s eyes found Y/N again, then went back to Will. He wanted to say that she was here. Right fucking behind you, actually. But Harry reconsidered that decision quickly. “She couldn’t make it.”

He knew Y/N heard him and it hurt to see the way it didn’t seem to bother her at all that he might be talking about some other girl. Then he just hated himself for saying something with any intention to hurt her, just to see if she would be jealous. Will hadn’t really left him with much of a choice, but Y/N deserved better regardless.

“Fuck, I wanted to meet her and talk some sense into her for you, but oh well.” Will patted Harry’s shoulder before heading off.

Once he was finally gone, once she was the only thing left in Will’s absence, she averted her wandering gaze from the other people around them and met Harry’s eyes. She bit back her resentment and worked up enough muscles in her face to fake a smile, even though Harry just blankly stared at her.

Then he snapped out of it when she handed him a bag full of various chips she and Will had picked up along the way to his house.

He took it from her, mostly as an excuse to pull her just a little bit closer. He wrapped his free arm around her back like he was greeting a friend and thanking her for buying his favorite flavor of Doritios. It was innocent, to everyone else. But just between them, he brought his mouth to her ear and said something a little less predictable.

“You clean up nice.”

She rolled her eyes and hugged him reluctantly. It was hard accepting his compliment and feeling his hands on her when her skin burned with jealousy.

“I thought I told you to tell me if you wanted to be with someone.” She whispered back.

When he pulled her in front of him again and saw the sad look on her face, he hated both himself and Will in that moment.

“I--” Harry started but then his annoyance with Will hit an all time high when he heard the other boy calling her name from the kitchen.

She gave Harry another fake smile and started off to find Will. He tasted all the regret when he watched her walk away, staring at her dress and the way it hugged her in all the right places. The way it came to just the middle of her thighs and he realized that’s what he’d missed out on the night they went to sleep with a little less clothes on. That’s what he’d been missing out on ever since, and that’s what he would continue to miss out on if he didn’t do something.

And so he decided tonight was the night. He would tell her everything. And if she didn’t feel the same then at least he tried. At least he’d finally be open with his feelings that had come to an agonizing head the past couple of weeks.

Maybe he had been foolishly in love with the little things he learned about her all those nights ago. And maybe he had gone without someone for so long, he just needed anyone who cared to hold him at night. But it wasn’t just some silly crush or craving intimacy anymore. It was real.

He knew that before he went to New York, he was sure of it. But letting her slip right through his fingers like he’d been doing made him certain of it as he watched her now. He was in love with her, not the way she made him feel or the idea of her. Just her.

By midnight they were drunk. Beyond that, actually. Wasted was a better word for it, and they were wasted enough that all the tension between them washed away with the tequila.

Y/N was so drunk, she completely forgot about their conversation earlier in the night. She took off her shoes and truly let go while singing the lyrics to Drunk In Love at her fullest volume, not a single care in the world about Harry’s love life. She was gone, as gone as Harry who did the exact same thing right beside her. Bumping shoulders with each other while everyone in the room acted as if they were at a full-fledged Beyoncé concert and not Harry’s living room. It made him happy inside again, warm and summery. Maybe it was the alcohol, having lost count of how much he’d had to drink, but either way, he was happy.

And she seemed that way too, particularly when she turned to him, grabbed his arms and danced with him exclusively. Like Will wasn’t in the room anymore. Like nobody was in the room at all. It was just the two of them… and Beyoncé.

They flailed around together for a while, taking another shot each, clicking their glasses together until she fell against him, her arms reaching up around his neck for support. She still danced though, still moved her body to the right beat. And he was too drunk to care about them having their hands all over each other in front of everyone.

When he did start to care was when it was far past midnight and he was sleepy. Others had already claimed their spots around his house if they were too drunk to drive themselves home. It had definitely started to empty out when others, who were far less intoxicated went home. He just didn’t remember when they’d said goodbye.

Will had already claimed an entire sofa when he passed out there around an hour ago, being the first to drop. Y/N and Harry the last ones as they somehow managed to hold each other upright in the middle of the living room again, swaying along to Harry’s oldies playlist and fucking up all the lyrics their sober minds knew by heart.

When he got particularly sleepy, his forehead just sort of fell onto her shoulder with a mind of its own and he cuddled into her neck while things got a little less silly between them.

“Do you even need me anymore?” He asked, and even though his voice felt like a dream, she knew it was real the way his breath tickled her skin and the way he held her waist a little bit tighter.

“Do you?” She retorted.

“Always,” he answered quickly.

And just as quickly, she pulled away from him, far enough that he had to hold the weight of his head up on his own while she glanced between his eyes to see if he was serious or not.

They stared at each other, neither ready to look away again for a long while. It took him glancing at her lips to get them both to snap out of it. To realize they were swaying awkwardly to Aretha Franklin in the middle of his fucking living room.

“Can we go upstairs?” She whispered.

It was then when he realized what he had wanted to say to her had gone tragically unsaid. He hadn’t done jack shit he’d wanted to, the only thing he managed was screaming lyrics into her ear and desperately seeking her validation, if either of those counted as saying anything to her at all.

So he made his move.

Grabbing her hand, he led the way toward the stairs, but when he paused abruptly to turn off the music and the lights, her body collided against his back and they both laughed uncontrollably. Going upstairs this drunk was a dumb idea, but it didn’t seem to cross either of their minds as they continued on.

Once they were out of immediate eyesight in case anyone woke up and spotted them, he whisked her off to his bedroom where they could do what they did best. Where they could be connected, and not just be two drunken, missing puzzle pieces stumbling around alone in the world again.

She followed him, letting him pull her along up the stairs while they both shushed each other when their giggling got too loud.

He closed the door once she was in his room with him and neither of them cared too much anymore about being loud or getting caught. She separated from him then, dancing her way over to his closet for her spare clothes while he plopped down on the edge of his bed and waited for her, kicking his shoes off in the meantime.

She was back moments later with her dress gone and just a shirt in its place, but it was one that didn’t belong to her. Staring at her across the room as she stood in just his black t-shirt sobered Harry right up. The dress she wore had been one thing but this was... his inebriated brain couldn’t even process it.

Swallowing, he moved his hands to the buttons on his shirt but never took his eyes off of her.

She walked over and carefully helped him just like she had done before. This time, though, once his shirt was off, she stared a little longer. He watched her eyes bounce around lazily from each tattoo like she’d been dying to see them this entire time. He stood in front of her while tugging his pants off quickly. They were close, fewer layers between them again. And they were drunk.

She moved around him to her side of the bed and he watched as she crawled in before he joined her under the covers naturally, like there hadn’t been a split between them whatsoever the past few weeks. Like they were them again before New York happened. Everything finally felt right in the world again.

They laid facing each other, both keeping their hands to themselves. His arms didn’t stretch around her frame the way they always did because he was far too lost in her eyes. They weren’t so dull anymore but instead looked normal, like her eyes that trusted him and cared about him and needed him.

“Harry?” She whispered, pulling him out of whatever distant land he’d just gone to.

“Hm?”

“How many tattoos do you have exactly?”

He couldn’t help but laugh at her. He had the same old Y/N back that told her little comic-relief jokes and never failed to make him smile. He was warm again.

“I dunno.” He chuckled a bit louder than anticipated, but when she joined right along with him, it didn’t matter so much.

Without even thinking of the consequences, she moved her hand to his face, cupping his jaw like soft linen against his rough, grainy stubble. And then she pressed her thumb into his dimple, not unlike the last time she’d done it, and made him laugh even more.

She kept her fingers in his hair, and the next time they were back to watching each other in a comfortable silence was different. He wasn’t looking at her eyes, at least not for all of it. He glanced at her lips once quickly, but enough for her to notice, and then landed back on her eyes. Like he was asking for permission. And she gave him a subtle, but definitely there, nod.

He scooted closer then, watching her face for any signs that he should stop. When he didn't find any, he carefully rested his hand on the side of her face, watching as her eyes fluttered shut with the feeling of his touch on her skin.

He waited until she opened her eyes. Until she saw him and knew he was about to kiss her. That his face would be the only one she saw when he pressed his forehead against hers.

His breathing was erratic and she couldn’t get her lungs to function properly. But either way it was happening, even if she had to pass out. She was kissing Harry whether or not her lack of oxygen killed her.

The last thing she saw before he closed the gap between their mouths was his smile. And then he melted it right against hers. All of the time he spent daydreaming about it was nothing compared to the real thing. Not when she clasped her own hands around the sides of his face and went a little deeper. Not when his fingers slipped through her hair to the back of her neck and he breathed in the sweet smell of her shampoo. Not when she moved her lips against his in ways that made the immobile butterfly on his stomach flap its wings.

Until, of course, she pulled away with a gasp. Both their lips pouted and damp and begging to be kissed again. She looked at him like she’d just realized what they were doing. Like she was about to push him off of her because they definitely should not be fucking kissing right now. But instead, all it took was one last glance at his mouth before she was all over it again.

He fell slowly to his back thanks to the unrelenting way she kissed him. It was like she couldn’t get enough of him, like she’d never kissed anyone before this way or maybe not even at all. And she never wanted to stop. He moaned into her mouth when she pulled more of her weight on top of him, digging her fingers into his hair. And he kissed her back, of course, as if no one he had ever kissed before came anywhere close to how she made him feel. All he saw behind his eyelids was bright yellow and all he felt inside his body was a hot summer day on the beach in California. His hands digging into the soft sand that smelled peculiarly like coconuts…

He got lost there for a while until she did it again, until she broke contact and stared at him the way he wished she’d stop doing. But when he moved to reconnect their mouths, she backed away even further until not a single one of her body parts was on top of him or touching him at all.

“Oh my god,” she gasped, laying flat on her back with her palm on her forehead and her fingers twisted into her hair where he wanted his to be again. “I’m so sorry, Harry.”

“Wh-” He started, being immediately cut off by the way she covered her face with her hands. Embarrassment. He knew that emotion on her all too well. She was embarrassed that she’d kissed him.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” Her voice was like crisp autumn air cutting his summer short and there was nothing he could do to stop it. “Can we go to sleep and act like that didn’t just happen?”

Although he wanted nothing to do with forgetting about it, he didn’t want to upset her more. He’d rather never kiss or touch her ever again than make her upset or uncomfortable. So, he nodded his head and pulled her into him like nothing had happened after all. Even though it killed him.

Even though he still hadn’t said anything he’d wanted to and now he wasn’t sure if he should.

Maybe it was a huge mistake. It didn’t feel as wrong as his previous mistakes involving Y/N, but she still made it feel that way. She made it feel like the worst thing they could have done was be drunk and make-out in his bed. And maybe it was. Nothing had gone the way he planned it in his head, but he had been fine with that. Until she wasn’t fine with it.

She was up before him, gone before he even blinked a single eye open. It was like her first night here all over again when he woke to a cold, empty bed and his heart sunk in his chest.

Instead of her he found a thin piece of fabric, and after bunching it up in his fist, he brought it in front of his face. He untangled it and blinked a few times, confused until he realized what it was. His shirt. The one she’d put on last night that nearly had him drooling.

And then he remembered what happened. He still felt her on his lips, burning like fresh mint. He went back further into his memories from the previous night and realized why she was gone.

Will.

He figured everything out when he walked downstairs and found her on the couch where she was supposed to be. Where Will would wake up next to her in an hour and not suspect a damn thing. He might have some words about why they’d been dancing on each other last night, if he even remembered it, but at least he wouldn’t know that they slept in the same bed. And he especially wouldn’t know about that kiss.

Harry escaped back upstairs once he knew where she was. Once he couldn’t stand another second around people, even if they were all dead asleep. He didn't even want to see any of them. He wanted to be alone in his bed where he could cry his stupid, hungover eyes out.

“Is there… something going on with you and Harry?” Will asked, breaking the awkward tension in the car ride home from Harry’s.

She shot her eyes over to him in a panic, “No, why?”

“I swear you guys were dancing all over each other. You never even talk to him.”

Her heart started to race as she thought of an excuse, any excuse to throw him off of thinking about that any longer.

“I don’t even remember anything from last night, Will.” She lied.

He was quiet, but his face was still skeptical, so she went on pulling some morally questionable strings to get him to believe her. “You know I’m not into any of that.”

Nodding, he sighed and that seemed to do the trick. “I know. He’s just… really messed up right now and I was worried about you getting involved with him.”

“I’m not.” She said, with a little too much confidence. “He’s nice but I don’t like him like that.”

She wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince more in that moment, Will or herself.

Her stomach fluttered all weekend every time the mere thought of Harry crossed her mind. It only got worse when she found one of his sweaters at the bottom of her hamper or when the scent of his cologne still lingered on her sheets. When she got a glimpse of her dress peeking out of her closet and remembered how it looked in a pile on his floor. When she showered and suddenly all her things looked like they didn’t belong in her own bathroom. When she tasted the tequila as it came back up Saturday morning and couldn’t help tasting him as well.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t convince herself that she didn’t like him as easily as she’d convinced Will. She didn’t want to like him anymore, not since he came home from New York, but she couldn’t quite convince herself of that yet either.

And then he’d kissed her.

What the fuck was she supposed to do with that?

By Monday at work she stopped fighting how she felt about him. He kissed her and there had to be a reason for it. Maybe her chances with him weren’t as nonexistent as she thought they were and maybe he did actually like her the way she wanted him to.

She couldn’t help but wonder, however, if it had just been a side effect of getting Harry properly drunk. They both were. Will had plenty of stories about how clingy Harry was when he got wasted, so maybe that’s all this was. Maybe he was just drunk and doing stupid things like the stupid thing he’d done in New York. She remembered his and Will’s conversation at the party. The girl that apparently couldn’t make it. Harry hadn’t looked at Y/N or kissed her that night like he had anyone else on his mind.

After work, she gained the courage to text him. It was no use sitting around overthinking things. She had to know if he felt at all the same way she did. If he’d want to kiss her again while they were sober.

With shaky fingers, she typed out her message to him. Although she hesitated before hitting send, there was still a sigh of relief when she finally did.

(Y/N, 5:43 pm)

Can I come over tonight?

It was like it always was. Same positions, same view out his massive window. The only difference when she arrived was the ‘For Sale’ sign out front reminding her that his time in this house was temporary. That he was going to leave it and all the memories they had together behind him the second someone made the right offer.

But everything else, it was all the same.

“So you’re really moving then, huh?” She asked, curled up into his chest as if nothing had happened Friday night. The kiss seemingly erased from his memories completely and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. She’d gone in hoping he would do something, but he never even mentioned it and so she decided that she wouldn’t either.

“Finally found an apartment in the West Hollywood area. Figured it was time.”

She felt her body droop, like she’d gotten her hopes up that maybe he’d change his mind about leaving. He’d be a further and harder drive to get to with traffic, but she guessed it would still work. She just didn't want to change at all. She wanted to stare out at his view for the rest of her life.

“I don’t want you to move.” She knew it was one of the first times she’d really laid her heart right out there with how nervous it made her to say that one simple sentence. She felt better once it was out though, like maybe her opinion on his changing zip code mattered enough to make him stay. And she didn’t often feel like any of her opinions ever made too much of a difference.

He rolled his eyes down toward her, “Have properties in London I want to put the money in, I’m afraid. Wasn’t even going to bother getting an apartment here until…” He stopped himself before he said something that crossed another line as if kissing her hadn’t been enough. She didn't need to know he only wanted a semi-permanent home in L.A. because of her. Because his rocky and indecisive plans changed the first night she slept over. Even if he didn’t want to keep his current house, he still wanted to be close to her. Gauging her reaction after they’d kissed, however, telling her any of that would be stupid.

“Until what?”

He shook his head and yawned. “Nevermind.”

She narrowed her eyes at him though, wishing she knew everything that was going on inside his head. If only she could be a fly on the wall inside that brain of his then life might be easier.

“So you won’t even think about staying?”

He sighed and turned onto his back, keeping his arm around her as she adjusted beside him. “Why should I?”

She didn’t say anything else after that. Even when he glanced at her sideways for any good excuse for him to stay. Her heart broke though when, with that simple little question, she finally got her answers. He didn’t feel the same way. He didn’t want to kiss her again. He didn’t want to stay in his house. He didn’t want to preserve all the memories they’d had here together. It meant nothing to him the way it did to her.

She didn’t have any other reasons besides selfish ones to answer his question, so she didn’t. It was his money and his life. She had nothing to do with it.

But he wanted her to. He wanted her to say everything to make him stay. And so when she was quiet, it was just another blow to his chest. Another piece of evidence that she didn’t care about him the way he thought she might. Especially after they’d kissed. He thought maybe something might change, but here they were, pretending it never fucking happened. Convincing each other that it bothered neither of them if he were to move.

He fell asleep shortly after that while she stayed up. While she watched the profile of his face as he ventured off to dreamland, wondering if he’d ever dreamt about her like she had him. If he’d ever thought about her while he was alone like she did. If he wanted her at all in the same way she wanted him.

Thinking about his lips again wasn’t her best idea, especially not when they were right in front of her and she could do nothing about it.

Until her phone buzzed on his bedside table where she’d left it and she got a break from her own mind. She grabbed it from behind her without looking so she didn’t disturb Harry too badly. It dinged again once she had her hand wrapped around it, but once the screen was lighting up her face, she realized it wasn’t her phone at all.

She’d already seen it though, and she mentally cursed Harry for having the same phone as her and putting her in this position. There were two texts stacked together on his lock screen but she’d only seen the most recent one before clicking his phone off and putting it back.

The stupid fucking text still flashed in her mind when she shut her eyes tight to stop thinking about it. It wasn’t entirely that she’d unintentionally read his private conversation, it was the contents of it that turned her heart into a cinder block weighing down on her chest. And more than just the contents, it was the name of the person messaging him.

(Jess, 10:56 pm)

And maybe we can hang out this week?

Jess. Like the Jessica he’d slept with in New York.

She didn’t want to overreact for no reason, but she couldn’t really help her mind from spiraling out of control, even if she did curl up beside him again. Even if a few tears spilled out onto his shirt while she thought about losing him. While she thought about letting him go. He didn’t have to stay and do anything for her. She’d let him walk right out of her life if he wanted to. And if he was too chicken to tell her he didn’t want her around anymore, then she’d be the first to go.

It was time.

Because even if Jess had nothing to do with anything, she was miserable the way they were. Her constantly falling hopelessly in love with him every time she saw him, just to be left disappointed. It wasn’t healthy. And if she left now, it would be a clean break. Cold turkey. She’d kissed him and got his sad, but honest answer.

He didn’t want her. He didn’t need her. He was just drunk, doing stupid things.

She was up well before him, not that she got much sleep all night anyways. It was the first time, however, that she’d woken up without his touch as he had his back to her, a good chunk of space in between them. The distance only cemented her decision.

She tiptoed to his bathroom, where her various things had been taking up root in his shower and on his counter. She’d become more comfortable than the first time she set anything down in his bathroom. They weren’t so organized anymore as they once had been and she didn’t pay much attention to how much space she was taking up until his bathroom suddenly felt cold and empty.

She wiped a tear from under her eye, not allowing it to escape down her cheek as she gave one last once-over of the bathroom before she flipped off the light and left.

He didn’t even stir the tiniest bit while she gathered more of her things. While she cleared out her drawer in his closet and lingered at his pink suit jacket, wishing she could go back to that time when everything hadn’t gone to absolute shit yet.

The last thing she did, before she took the stairs out of his life completely, was peak out the curtains. She couldn’t stand to look at him alone in his bed, knowing he might not care that she’d be gone when he woke up. So she took in that view L.A. for what might be the last time and tried to convince herself to stay. No matter what she told herself, however, the rational parts of her brain won. And so, she slung her bag over her shoulder and left him.

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#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #onlyhuman

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theydontknowaboutusimagines · 5 years ago

Text

Reunited - Harry Styles One Shot

Your legs bounced up and down in anticipation as you rode in the car from the airport to the house where your boyfriend was staying. It had been almost four months since the two of you have seen each other in person; thanks to a pandemic, closed borders, and being in quarantine. Your boyfriend, Harry, had gotten stuck in LA while you were stuck at your home in London. Luckily, your boyfriend was able to spend this time with some close friends, but you got stuck by yourself.

It wasn’t entirely bad in the beginning, but then it got to be too much being alone. So, you invited Harry’s sister, Gemma, and her boyfriend over, which helped a lot. However, you still missed your boyfriend. You two talked every day, sometimes multiple times a day even with the time difference. But you couldn’t take being away from him anymore.

Once you found out you were able to fly there, you quickly arranged it, but you didn’t tell Harry. One because you wanted to surprise him and two, you knew he would tell you not to because of your health. You are worried about traveling, but you were going to take very precaution you could and you did.

The only person who knew you were on your way was the person Harry was staying with. They had ordered some food in that you picked up and would be delivering, but Harry didn’t know that. When you got to the house, you grabbed your luggage and the bag of food before heading to the front door.

Butterflies of excitement and a bit of nervousness filled your stomach as you waited after knocking. You heard the door unlock and open with a swing revealing Harry with money in his hand. You smiled at him and realization finally hit him.

“Y/N?” He gasped. “Wait.. what? How?”

You smirked pushing your sunglasses up and putting the bags on the ground, “It’s me,” you opened your arms

He laughed rushing to you and taking you into his arms. His grip tightened around you as your legs wrapped around his waist. He quickly pressed his lips against yours and you smiled into the kiss.

“I can’t believe you’re fucking here right now,” he sniffled.

“Are you crying?” You giggled wiping his eyes.

“Yeah, but in a cool way,” he laughed. “God, I’m so fucking happy to see you right now.”

“Me too,” you smiled kissing his cheek. “I couldn’t go any longer without seeing you.”

He smiled kissing you one more time before turning around and taking you inside, “Wait, what about my stuff and the food?” You laughed.

“Jeff can get them,” he smirked.

“Jeff can what now?” He asked looking at the two of you. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hey, thanks for letting me come,” you smiled.

“Of course, I’ve had enough of his moping ass,” he joked.

“Fuck you,” Harry mumbled. “Anyway, I’m never letting you go.”

You giggled as he walked over and sat the two of you on the couch, you in his lap.

“I see you haven’t bothered to shave,” you laughed rubbing his cheeks.

“Haven’t really had a reason,” he laughed. “But I guess now, I do.”

“Hm, maybe wait a bit,” you said. “It might grow on me.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Can you two hold off on your makeup fuck session until like everyone else is asleep?” Jeff mumbled.

“Shows where your mind is, Jeff, because we weren’t even talking about that,” Harry said.

“You may not have said it, but you were thinking it,” you joked.

“Shh,” he laughed.

After doing a little bit of catching up over lunch, you decided you needed a shower. Traveling always made you feel a little gross and with everything going on you felt like you needed even more. You brought your bags up to the room where Harry was staying and of course he was following you.

He basically had stuck to his “I’m never letting you go” statement. You had to admit it was cute though.

“Watcha doing?” Harry asked as you go through your suitcase to find something to change into.

“About to take a shower,” you said. “And spend the rest of the day watching Netflix.”

“Do I get to join this shower?” He smirked.

“Didn’t you hear what Jeff said?” You pointed out.

“Fuck what he said,” he said. “It’s been MONTHS!”

“We’ve gone longer,” you stated.

“That’s because we had to,” he groaned.

You giggled, “Fine, you can join, but only because you’re annoying when you’re needy.”

“You say that, but I think we both know that you’re just as needy as I am,” he said crossing his arms.

“Oh yes, sooo much,” you joked.

“Hey! That’s not very nice,” he pouted. “Are you saying you didn’t miss me or want to fuck me at all during all of this shit going on?”

“I never said that,” you said. “There were plenty of times, but unlike you I don’t turn into an annoyance when I’m horny.”

Harry busted out laughing, “Yeah, you might not think you do, but baby, you do. Especially when you’re drunk.”

You blushed, “I do no such thing!”

“Whatever you say,” he smirked. “But I have video footage that proves my statement.

“Oh, fuck you!” you groaned.

“That’s what I keep asking you to do!” He laughed.

You rolled your eyes as you walked over to him, taking his hand in yours, “Fine, let’s go, but remember, you asked for it,” you told him as you pulled him towards the bathroom.

What started out as a small and simple kiss quickly turned into a handsy make out session as the hot water rained over the two of you in the shower. Of course you were just as needy as your boyfriend when it came to the intimacy department of your relationship, but you loved teasing him about it.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he mumbled against the skin of your neck while his hands were pressed firmly on your ass. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to get any more beautiful, but here you are.”

“It’s only because you haven’t seen me in forever,” you giggled. “But thank you for the compliment.”

“Nope, it’s the fucking truth,” he whispered. “You’re so fucking fit. I don’t even know if you’re real.”

You laughed, “Well, you definitely used this time at home to your advantage,” you smirked running your hand over his chest and down his stomach.

“It’s the damn bread,” he laughed before pressing his lips against yours.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, as he pressed you up against the wall of the shower.

“I love you,” he whispered kissing your nose.

“I love you, too,” you smiled with a scrunch.

Then without notice, he pulls away from you to grab the shampoo and pouring some into his hands. You turned around so your back was facing him as he started applying the shampoo to your hair, gently massaging it in. When we was done, he moved your hair to the side and placed a trail of kisses along your shoulders and the top of your back before helping you rinse off your hair.

Next up was the body wash and he made sure to take his time as he applied soap all over your body. As soon as everything was rinsed off, you quickly turned off the water and got out of the shower.

“Hey, where are you going?” He whined.

“Can’t keep wasting water,” you said drying off with a towel. “I figured we’d just move out here.”

He got out of the shower and went straight over to you, not bothering with a towel. He smirked picking you up and sitting you on top of the bathroom counter.

“Don’t mind if we do,” he said pressing his lips against yours.

You wrapped your hand around his biceps as he kissed you before moving his lips down your neck. Your hands quickly moved to his wet hair as he took your chest into his mouth.

“Fuck,” you mumbled pressing your body closer to him.

After a few minutes of attention to your chest, his lips move slowly down your belly before stopping where you want him most. You looked down at him as he stared at you with smile. The moment you felt his lips against you, it was like you lost all control over your body. You also couldn’t believe just how long it had really been and you knew that was why your body was reacting in such a way.

You bit your lip as you tried stay as quiet as you could, only allowing a small whimper to leave your lips. But your boyfriend was having any of that.

“You know I prefer to hear you,” he whispered against your inner thigh. “Should I stop? It doesn’t seem like you’re enjoying it.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you glared at him. “It’s rude to not finish what you started.”

“Well, then, we can’t have that, can we?” He said.

“Fuck,” you cried out knowing you could no longer keep yourself quiet.

The only thing your body was focusing on was the pressure building up and needing a release.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered looking up at you. “You’re almost there.”

You fingers pulled the wet strands of his hair, causing him to moan against you and speed up his movements even more. Your body began to shake and your legs tried to close, but he forced them to remain open. Moans, gasps, and a bit of shouting began to leave your from your lips until finally your body found its release and a wave of pleasure coursed through your body.

His movements slowed down before he kissed up your body and finally pressed his lips against yours.

“So fucking good,” he mumbled against your lips before picking you up and carrying you to the bed.

You didn’t waste any time before rolling him over so he was laying back on the bed. You straddled him, leaning down to kiss him before lowering yourself down on him. Neither of you moved for what felt like minutes as you savored the feeling of being together again. When you couldn’t take it anymore, you moved your hips slowly against him as you looked down at him.

His hands were on your hips helping to guide you. You pushed hair out of his eyes as you placed your forehead against his. His hands moved up and down your back.

“Fuck, I love you,” he mumbled. “So fucking much.”

“I love you, too,” you mumbled back. “Fuck.”

He pressed his lips against yours before rolling the two of you over so you were laying on your back lacing his fingers with yours until both of you were finished, letting it be known.

The two of you laid wrapped up in each other’s arms as you tried calming your breath. He reached over pushing a strand of hair from your face and planting a kiss on your forehead. You smiled moving closer towards him which was quite impossible giving how close you already were.

“You never did tell me how you managed to get here,” he said.

“Well, some of the airports opened up and I decided to take my chance,” you said. “I took every precaution, but it is recommended I say at home for the 14 days just in case.”

“I wish you didn’t risk anything, but I can’t say I’m not happy you’re here,” he said.

“I know, I know,” you sighed. “That was one reason why I didn’t tell you beforehand because you probably would have told me to stay.”

“Probably, yes, but I wouldn’t have been happy about it,” he said.

“And let’s be honest, I probably would have shown up anyway,” you giggled.

“And I would have only been a little bit upset,” he laughed.

“Do you think we should get dressed and go hangout in the living room?” You laughed.

“Nope,” he said. “We’re staying right until at least dinner.”

“So, I can take a nap, then?” You asked.

He laughed with a nod, “Yes,” he said kissing your head.

You smiled wrapping the bedsheets around you and your legs around him. He smiled placing his head on yours before you both closed your eyes happily knowing you both were finally reunited.

#One Direction Imagines #Harry Styles Imagines #Harry Styles Fics #Harry Styles One shots #Harry Styles Fanfiction

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uwua3 · 4 years ago

Text

first time he kissed a boy.

🍁🥇🍰 settsu banri x hyodo juza

summary: a collection of moments where juza and banri kiss and never speak of it again, until they do

warnings: alcohol, arguments, enemies/rivals, insomnia, internalized homophobia, kissing, mentions of death, nightmares, sexuality crisis

author’s note: firstly, there is no serious nsfw in this song fic! the most you’ll see, as seen in the title, is kissing !! :D i do not sexualize minors even if banri & juza are in university in this piece !!! this is angst with a happy ending :)

word count: 2,522

music: first time he kissed a boy – kadie elder, touch – troye sivan

TROUBLED FACE, HEADPHONES ON

FORGETTING TIME AND PLACE, ALL HE WANTED

“Scared, Hyodo?”

Banri’s touch was wicked—his hold on Juza’s collar was deadly tight, like a king snake’s grip on its victim. His tongue was sharp with words only a man unafraid of hell could speak, and as Banri leaned in closer, Juza questioned how much of this he could have.

“You don’t fucking scare me, Settsu.” Juza cursed, his back rigid against the wall and arms holding himself up in the closet. It was such a small, cramped space; one wrong move and this would be over. Banri laughed meanly, like always. Everything about Banri was so cold, like a double–edged sword that hurt even the wielder. Yet, here Juza was, firmly taking him by the hilt and accepting any injuries.

“Then, kiss me. You won’t—”

When Juza closed the distance and let himself close his eyes, he felt Banri’s breath hitch in his throat. It was such a small, unnoticeable sound, but pride burned at the pit of Juza’s ego knowing he caught the Settsu Banri off guard. Banri quickly adjusted, sitting on his lap and tightening his vile clutch onto his long time rival and sworn enemy.

It was supposed to be nothing more than a drunken dare, a challenge that would never be spoken about again after that awful round of boredly playing seven minutes in heaven with their college friends. But, with the intoxicating liquor upon their lips and the bass bumping in the background as the party went full swing, it felt like more than just two university students messing around in a frat house’s storage closet.

Banri’s devilish smirk tasted of years of unsaid confessions, hidden meanings, and secrets he’d take to the grave. It was something that made Juza realize this wasn’t the first time Banri kissed a boy, he was just the one of many.

When Banri pulled back seconds before the closet door swung open to the cheers of partygoers, Juza swallowed nervously as he felt himself stand up. He felt sober, because that was his first kiss with a boy. Juza’s first kiss was with Banri all because of a stupid dare—and, he liked it.

FEELING STUCK, SET HIM FREE

RUNNING OUT OF LUCK, ON HIS KNEES

It was 3 A.M. when Juza woke up to Banri. Banri, an insomniac who didn’t dare let himself be alone in the middle of the night, was asleep. It was one of the few times Banri was overcome and conquered by his own nightmare monsters, where he either succumbed to the draining force of tiredness or died trying. Tonight was when Banri passed out, unwillingly allowing the darkest crevices of his mind to run rampant and haunt him in the dark.

Banri was muttering something about freedom, a vain concept that others viewed him as the poster boy of, before thrashing in bed, his movements wild and unpredictable. Banri didn’t let himself sleep often because when he did, the worst parts of himself became fueled by nightmare energy. Juza sleepily blinked, pushing himself out of bed to softly walk over to Banri’s side.

A side of the room Juza never dared attempted to trespass until now.

Before Juza could place his hand on Banri’s cheek, Banri immediately yelled and shot up, his breathing uneven and heartbead pounding in his ears. Juza flinched back, not used to such a broken visage of Settsu Banri. Banri made sure that he always come off as an indifferent bastard that got what he wanted. But, now, he was vulnerably himself. The person Banri was most afraid of at night, was himself.

“H–Hyodo, you’re here...” Banri breathed out, attempting to mask the gratefulness and exhaustion weighing down his words. Juza didn’t react at first, simply settling his weight on the bed warily, waiting for any sign to stop. When Juza finally put his hand besides Banri’s, who was slightly shaking, Banri carefully took it, lacing their fingers together.

Banri’s hands were made of irresponsible and childish stories of his past, relentless and unsilenced anger at the rest of the world, and the pain and suffering of someone who burnt out with no purpose a long time ago. These were the calloused, scarred hands of someone dangerous—but, Juza didn’t care tonight.

When Banri turned his head and they were only inches away from each other, when Banri’s half–lidded eyes glanced down at Juza’s lips with no strings attached, when everything that made up Settsu Banri was uncertain, Juza knew he should’ve left. He should’ve never come over to Banri’s bed in the dead of night just to hold his enemy’s hand, just to step over unspoken boundaries from years ago. But, he didn’t move. He didn’t want to.

Banri moved in first this time, his palms sweaty and eyelids fluttering closed with a quiet sigh. When Banri pulled away to drop his forehead on Juza’s shoulder, whispering a quiet “thank you”, Juza didn’t say anything back. Juza slept in Banri’s bed that night, and Banri was gone by morning doing god knows what. Something they’d both regret, for sure.

Juza didn’t ask if Banri was okay from last night’s nightmare, and Banri didn’t bring up how for the first time, he slept for hours without fear.

FIRST TIME HE KISSED A BOY

HE HAD NEVER NEVER KNEW

COVER UP IS WHAT THEY TOLD

FEEL SO COLD

Juza didn’t know if he liked boys. Was it... normal? Why did every adult say boys had to like girls? It didn’t feel right—to see women in a romantic way, he’d never date one. He didn’t recently think this until that one frat party after literally coming out of the closet with his long time rival. Damn, Settsu, always fucking up his head in the most unpredictable ways.

Juza didn’t know why he was questioning if he liked boys. It more came down to whether he liked boys, or he just liked Banri. Settsu Banri, the bane of his existence, who was currently underneath him. Juza never thought he’d see the day Banri would come out on the losing side, but here he was, out of breath but cruel as ever.

Banri claimed Juza was the only person in the whole entire world that could even have a chance at beating his ass. He wasn’t necessarily wrong, but sometimes, it felt like an excuse so Juza could pin him to the ground in victory.

Ever since their second kiss, it suddenly became a casual thing for them to do. To tease each other mercilessly, to initiate intimacy on a wavering grey area, to pull each other close and never let it go. It was all from years of pent up tension that never left them even into college, now they could act on it without defining what their exact relationship was.

Fighting, was one of those previously normal activities that changed in an instant. Banri could’ve easily just swung his legs out to knock Juza over, but he chose not to. Instead, he grinned with his teeth sharp like some sort of tricky predator, letting his wrists be pinned above his head.

“I’ll never lose to you, Settsu.”

“Come on, you know you want to—” Before Banri could finish, he heard the practice room door swing open and Juza was a foot away. Banri sat up and numbly agreed when the Director asked if they were rehearsing a combat scene, to which Juza hurriedly ran with. It wasn’t until the Director left that Banri stood up, facing off with no casual intentions like before.

“What the hell was that, Hyodo?” Banri scoffed, but Juza saw right through it. Settsu Banri was hurt—insulted that he was just some secret Juza kept all to himself. It made Juza feel sick with confusion why he suddenly started giving a fuck about how Banri felt. But, Banri couldn’t know that. So Juza straightened his posture, using his half inch to his advantage and presenting himself angrily.

“Spit it out, Settsu. No one understands anything if all you do is swear.” Juza fought back tooth and nail, but Banri came in swinging, asking the inevitable question that’s been following Juza ever since that party closet challenge.

“Why do you always act like we’re just friends? Are you straight?”

Juza didn’t answer—instead, he looked down at the ground where Banri used to lay. Was it shame that stopped him from responding? Why did Juza feel like he should’nt be into boys? Juza knew there was inherently nothing wrong with guys, but why couldn’t he say it out loud? Banri laughed, but it was so cold that it sliced through Juza’s indecisiveness like a double–edged sword. It was his fault, anyways, he took the hilt early on.

“You—You, you fucking used me?” Banri started off with pure, untamed fury but it trailed off into a moment of weakness. Juza shook his head, eyes wide as he tried to come closer, only for Banri to stumble back immediately with a pointed glare that should’ve killed him on the spot.

“No, no. I didn’t, I swear to god I didn’t. I just don’t know, I’m not ready.” Juza blurted out and the practice room went quiet, with nothing but their labored breathing. Banri took the words in and refused to show any signs of pain, instead crossing his arms and rolling his eyes as if he didn’t care. But, he did, tremendously so.

“Figure it out, goddamn it. I’m not your experiment, Hyodo. I never will be.” Banri finally said and left, leaving whatever undefined relationship they had together. Juza let him go, letting the door slam shut and winced at the sound of someone kicking in a trashcan.

“I like you, Banri...” Juza whispered, his fingertips ghosting over the curve of his lips before forming a fist. Juza didn’t know how hard he punched the wall, but a hole the size of his heart was left in its place.

FIRST TIME HE KISSED A BOY

HE HAD NEVER NEVER LOVED

WALKS ON A CURVY ROAD

FEEL SO COLD

Juza now knew he liked boys in one way or another. Especially one boy named Settsu Banri, an ex (if Juza could call him that) who wouldn’t give him the time of day now. Any walls or defenses Juza managed to take down were rebuilt even stronger, and Banri was not his anymore.

He didn’t know how to tell Banri that he was into him, as way more than enemies and anything else they proclaimed themselves to be, until one motorcycle ride.

“Are you serious? Why do I have to go with him?” Banri complained, emphasizing who his partner for the night was. Juza, unluckily, knew how to ride a motorcycle and all the other seats in the available cars were empty. This meant Juza would have to sit with Banri for over a hour, after avoiding each other for weeks.

As much as Banri was stubborn, Sakyo was terrifying. Relenting, Banri swore underneath his breath and locked eyes with Juza, narrowing them to show he was indeed pissed off about this predicament. Banri’s vivid purple eyes were something that lingered at the back of his mind, and now they were staring him down like he was the worst person in the world. Juza just looked away, his thoughts heavy and all focused on one vengeful boy.

When everyone began preparing for their destination, Juza felt Banri’s arms wrap around his waist and his mind blanked. It had been so long since they last touched each other, that everything within Juza was shutting down. If Banri was made of empty lies, rich boy pretentiousness, and inherent privilege, Juza was made of hardhitting truths, quiet humbleness, and a life of many adversities. How could one boy so opposite of him make him feel so alive? Juza ignored his heart that stuttered at the touch of Banri, and revved the motorcycle engine instead.

Juza looked over his shoulder to check if Banri was wearing his helmet. He wasn’t, but Juza could live with that. Almost on impulse, Juza almost leaned in to sneak a quick kiss before the realization dawned on him: they weren’t each other’s anymore. Whatever that meant to them. So, Juza faced forward and drove off into the night, ready to get this ride to wherever Mankai needed him over with.

As the road curved and the motorcycle’s beams illuminated the street alongside the lamps, Juza exhaled sharply as he felt Banri’s head on his shoulder. It was just the second of what they could’ve had that made Juza park to the side. Banri stirred awake for a moment, the prominent eyebags telling of how little sleep he’s been getting ever since him and Juza called it quits. As Banri opened his mouth, Juza beat him to it.

“I like boys.”

KEEPING BACK THE GHOST INSIDE

LOCKED HIM IN A PACK, ALL HIS LIFE

“I don’t know what I am, but I do know I like boys. I like girls, boys, anyone. I don’t know my sexuality for sure, but I know... I like you.”

Banri took a while before leaning back, examining Juza’s face underneath the flickering street light. It was honest, truthful, and certain, like this was something he knew all along. Sighing, Banri crudely shrugged and revealed his classic Settsu smirk.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Banri ran his hand through his hair tiredly, willing himself to stay awake for this conversation as he hummed something. Juza gripped the handle bars tighter, the anxiety from confessing such a secret loud in his veins. Would anything change? Could they get back to being together? Were they ever together?

“We... You don’t have to tell anyone about this, Hyodo. I just needed to know this wasn’t some fling.” Or a mistake, Banri finished quietly, his words barely audible over the sound of cars driving past them. The tension in Juza’s shoulders bled out as he turned to face Banri with subtle relief. The pressure to come out suddenly became non–existent.

“So, we’re...?” Juza trailed off, unsure on how to define their relationship with one another. Just friends didn’t do what they did, but friends with benefits wasn’t exactly the case. Juza was sure repressed feelings wasn’t apart of any of those subcategories. Banri let his hands rest at the back of the motorcycle, holding himself up as he stared at Juza with a knowing smile.

“I’m all or nothing, you know that.” Banri laughed and Juza didn’t realize how much different it sounded compared to those seven minutes in the closet. Having a boyfriend, that sounded more than okay.

GET LOST, GET LOST, GET LOST

“Scared, Banri?” Juza was so scared but he was willing to take the risk just to be Banri’s.

“You don’t fucking scare me, Juza.” Banri was absolutely scared, that the boy he’s been obsessed with could just go in and break his heart anytime. But, Banri would let him if it meant he was Juza’s.

Juza didn’t remember how many times he’s kissed Banri at this point, but he did it again and again. Juza kissed Banri—and, he liked it.

#settsu banri #banri settsu #hyodo juza #juza hyodo #juban #juza x banri #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#act! addict! actors!#a3! actor training game #a3! one shots #act! addict! actors! one shots #mankai a3!#mankai company #a3! banri #a3 banri #a3! juza #a3 juza

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