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eleanor-bradstreet · 2 years ago

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Wow, ok. I’ve come back down to planet Earth in order to tell you what catapulted (trebucheted?) me up there. Firstly, you are very sneaky about your WIPs, not giving us many hints about what you’re working on until it’s ready to drop. That is, of course, your prerogative, but it makes the impact of your stories strike that much harder when we don’t know what to expect. Perhaps that is your entire strategy after all….😎

I didn’t know what this was. You indicated ‘summer romance,’ I thought, ‘awww, warm fuzzies, maybe a beach and a split at the end of the season’. WRONG. What I got was sweetheart Benedict in all of his empathic glory, the most idyllic English countryside setting, Reader taking that nervous leap to reckon with her feelings, the most tantalizing and ROMANTIC intimacies, and….wtf…my name is in this?!? 😅 You hit me with wave after wave of ache, joy, sweetness, gratitude, anticipation, and pleasure…omg the pleasure. It was like a rollercoaster I couldn’t get off and didn’t want to…I mean, we all want to get off, but I mean….you know what I mean. Ok - to the points!

Reader starts out with melancholy, and I don’t think it’s just situational based on Caroline bailing. Benedict says as much, and Reader knows as much. But you don’t explicitly outline the reason for her mood. Benedict, the dear heart, explains it in the most flattering and sincere way, that she feels and thinks so deeply, it’s hard to be blindly happy. I love that he can sense this in someone and cherish them for it and it’s also making me wonder how he is capable of disproving his own point. We all know he feels and sees the most, and processes everyone else’s stories and emotions before acting. But I would still describe him as being on the golden-retriever side of ‘blindly happy’ in terms of day-to-day disposition. He is still a ball of goofy joy even though he has depth. Perhaps he can help Reader learn to balance in the same way. Maybe he is just waiting for the opportunity…. Which brings me back to my original point. I suspect that Reader’s melancholy is at least partially due to these feelings she is not confronting. Y’know…THOSE ones. That she has Benedict fucking Bridgerton in her life, detecting all her feelings, rubbing her back, championing her happiness, saying “I love you, darling,” (😵) and she SOMEHOW has not declared her love for him yet. Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’ve been friends forever, it’s “weird” or something. But the heart wants what it wants and when you know, you know. (And I know they find out soon enough, I’m just ribbing!)

“I resent her for stealing my sunshine” and later he calls her Sunshine! ☀️😭 stop it…..stop it! The little pet names you have worked into your sexy stories thus far just slay me.

“Parts of your personality came alive with Benedict because he was the only one who had earned those parts of you.” Yep, I told you this is where the tears started. This man and his gentle empathy would be the one to earn access to every part of me. (If you know what I mean, badum tsk)

“You were never able to stomach the way negative emotions haunted his features. They didn’t belong there, not coinciding with his light.” You capture him so perfectly. See? Golden-retriever levels of happiness. You described him as the world’s light in If the World Was Ending too and it’s just so apt. It makes my heart ache in the best way 🥹

“Somehow his teasing prediction already made you feel less alone.” This was a note you left for me on Love to Spare. Somehow, just knowing he exists can change you, even if he’s not right there with you. The thought of him can make you feel less alone, more exhilarated, happier, more alive. Ugghhhhh this fucking guyyyyyy

Ok the use of ‘Sunshine’ when Reader answers the door as a mess I initially thought was a joke, until he kept using it. Then it works on both levels. Adorable!

I think you’re calling him a nuisance as a codeword for you know what 😉

“I didn’t say I was alone. I said I was lonely…” The haunted look had returned to contort his beautiful face. *screaming screaming screaming in Benophie* This is the only way this boy falls in love, I swear. He’s got the charisma and looks to have someone every night but he KNOWS he is lonely in his soul until he finds that one person….

“The undeniable need to vanquish anything that creased his brow pulled you toward him.” Beautiful! So evocative.

“He was comfortable in your silence, and you in his.” I have to ask, was this a deliberate Benophie reference? Because if so, bravo you clever sneak, and if not, I love that Benedict just gives off the same energy in every universe so that we all want the same thing: to sit and read while he stands and paints. Maybe our eyes wander off the page (a lot) to look at those back muscles and the dance of his fingers, the inquisitive furrow in his brow…..(the paintbrushes stored in his waistband???)

Hoo boy then we reach the manuscript part. Full disclosure, I kinda forgot when you asked to use our fics and wasn’t thinking anything of it. I fully read through all the way to “when the unthinkable happened” musing, ‘“hmm, interesting focus on this story she’s reading. Sounds kinda dark, what is the unthinkable thing…? OH SHIT.” And I just sat in open-mouthed gratitude for all of the lovely things you wrote and the fact that you worked this into a story at all. I am now fully committed to us making a whole meta-fic universe within our little circle: full of menaces and zombies and dastardly Benjamins. 😆 Seriously, my heart stopped too when Reader’s did, because I was just so flattered and moved. Tears were shed. 🫶

I’m also so pleased that you took the opportunity for these beautiful little meta-nods. “Her leading man bore a striking resemblance to yours…Images of Benedict’s face flooded your mind” Teeeheeeheee 😉 I’ll amend my new catchphrase and say: I’m sorry I hurt you, but glad that it made you finally realize you can’t lose that man, you love him, and you need to act on it now!

The fact that she says “I’m just remembering you” when he’s standing right in front of her. I know that’s the demented pain I put you through. I know those are piano bench feelings. I’m sorry 💙

Ahhhhhh! Benedict said my name! He said my name!! 😍 heeeheeee It’s goofy how much joy this brings me. Thank you so much!!

“if the world came tumbling down and you left out that he was the only one…” Ooooo girlllllll, I see you working in all these lyrics!

Touch, touch, touch…..his language. You know I love it 😉

“I was beginning to worry that you’d never feel it.” Gah, the friends-to-lovers fools! (affectionate) I ADORE this line. That he just has to say ‘it’. Not, ‘you finally kissed me’, not ‘you’re showing that you want me’, not ‘feel the love between us’. He doesn’t have to say anything. They both know. They have known for a while. They don’t need to explain or define or set parameters. They are all in for each other and they know it, inherently. They just had to cross that threshold. This also calls me back to Anthony’s love declaration (which makes me swoon!) “But you must know it in your heart. You must feel it because I do.” (yes he bookends this with ‘I love yous’ but still, that inherent knowing)

““Well worth the wait,” he declared, tucking your hair behind your ear.” Oh fuck….oh no….here comes the seducer. I need to stop crying and cross my legs, shit.

“The smell of him, so close and invasive, was a provocative elixir calling out to awaken wanton need.” You can’t make my eyes cross this soon! Not when we have thousands of words to go!!! Seriously, what 👏 a 👏 phrase 👏

“This lust was an insatiable beast, only mollified by his touch.” Still….can’t…..uncross…..eyes….

The CONSENT that this man asks for! At every turn! And whyyyyy is it always so hotttttt???

I love that you wrote a busty Reader and tackled her insecurities in this moment. While never dropping the temp on their encounter, you depict what is realistically likely to be going through women’s minds. And of course Ben perfectly assuages those fears, overcoming them emotionally and physically. “That other man’s hands were simply inferior.” Snap damn! Move over asshole, Cube Jumper McBigHands is here and we are putting those digits to WORK!!

Oh my…the inclusion of the voyeuristic photographer. You surprised me with this one! But it adds an extra layer of delicious sin, something to titillate and motivate. And they get the best souvenirs out of this in your surprise ending!! So clever.

““Look at me,” he commanded.” Quessssstion: Was this a reference to the new Lady Chatterley’s Lover film? Because loverboy in that movie says this same line while he is performing the same action and when I tell you it made me lose my wig…. Go watch that movie if you haven’t, I found it to be 🤌 and just pray that their intimacy coordinator works on Bton lol

“I’m aching, Ben. Make it better.” ACK! I am slipping down in my chair.

““Arch for her. Show her how gorgeous your skin is while it’s blushed with heat. Such a pretty color.”” 😳😳😳

Ok…like…how do I find the right way to say this without sounding like an absolute creep? There are actions and moments and lines in your intimate scenes that are precisely my thing, like you know all my turn-ons and tailor made this for me. I really shouldn’t be surprised given how similar we have already found ourselves to be, but you just keep coming out and reading my mind with your work and feedback. Spooky, but also, I love you for it.

“One strong hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you harshly against his muscular torso. His growl in your ear had you dripping for him all over again. “I’m going to fuck you. Do you understand?”” And the award for hottest consent request goes to…. 🥵🥵

“you could feel the steady thrum of his pulse thumping against your walls.” Glad he has a pulse because I don’t anymore 💀

Have to say, I love the position they’re in. It’s one I don’t feel we see very often - creative, but completely plausible and makes the most sense given that they’re kinda-clothed and only wanting to put on a little show for the photographer, not be completely exposed. He can’t even see her face but they are clinging to each other so tight… aaagggghhhhhh

“His hand left your throat to tilt your face into his, foreheads pressed together in intimacy. “Eyes on me,” he ordered. “Don’t look at her. This part of you is mine.”” AGAIN with the looking, but there is so much layered under his last sentence. He’s being feral and possessive, but also wants to see her fully as they come apart together for the first time. If we know Benedict, we know this is driven by emotion as much as it is by carnality. It’s not just her climax that’s his, it’s her focus, her heart, the moment they explode into their next chapter together. He wants to remember it forever. 🫠🫠🫠

That climax….eyes are irreparably crossed…

One of the absolute best things about this story is how the “I love you” moment is so gentle and small, you can almost miss it. It’s not a grand declaration, it’s not something that stirs any shock or conflict in Reader. It’s just a sweet statement of fact, of everything they’ve both been feeling for a long time. Benedict isn’t scared to say it so easily because he knows she feels the same and isn’t going to be scared upon hearing it. Back to my earlier point: they don’t really have to talk about these feelings because they both understand and accept them so fully. It just IS. 🥰

6 Weeks Later - thank you for publishing my ‘book’ and I sincerely hope that Benedict does indeed congratulate you by removing all his clothes 😜

“brow furrowed in angst” pffft hehe 😉

“For loving me back.” Ahhh this is so sweet but also - BITCH you knew she did (affectionate)

Phew. This was…this was just so much. A gorgeous blend of feelings and references and sin that was terrifyingly on point for me. This is the dressing for the wound of I’ll Be Seeing You. This beautiful love (and steamy fucking sex omgggggg) used that nudge of loss to take root, and I’m so grateful it did. You have righted my wrongs 😜 You grew a blossom out of that pain.

This somehow feels like a combination of the three fics you’ve written previously. It pulls out the best strengths of each and weaves them together and it felled me, in the very best of ways. Bravo, hallelujah, and I need to go lie down. 💙

Wide Open Spaces

Pairings - Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary - Modern AU - Benedict and Reader explore new facets of their longtime childhood friendship.

Warnings - 18+ Please, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content

Word Count - 6.2K

Author’s Note - Huge thank you to @colettebronte for giving this a once over for me before posting. And a major shoutout to @eleanor-bradstreet for writing inspiring fics for me to reference! Soundtrack inspos for this one include: Cinnamon Summer by Jome, and Honeybee by The Head and the Heart

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Disappointment. That was the overwhelming sensation coloring your mood as you looked down at the message on your phone. Your sister had canceled on you again. It had been six months since you last saw her and you were starting to miss her.

This always happened when she got into a new relationship. The constant companion you had known your whole life suddenly transformed into the biggest flake on the planet. You were happy she was happy, but she never saw outside of her little love bubble when there was a new guy.

At times, you could smile and write it off as an endearing quirk, but this time your irritation was a bit harder to quell. The trip you were supposed to be taking together this weekend had been planned for weeks. The excitement of seeing your baby sister and enjoying uninterrupted relaxation was the only thing getting you through the tedious tasks weighing you down at work. You knew this cloud of disappointment was going to linger for a few days.

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#fic rec #read this #sexy feel good read #absolutely fabulous #this nearly killed me in the best way

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iwadori · 4 years ago

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When they neglect you for another girl Part 4 (Sakusa)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

Word Count: 2.6K

Genre: Angst to Fluff

masterlist

AN: YES I DID PUT MYSELF IN THIS STORY! SUE ME. This is basically inspired by a random conversation i had w the great @teesumu, so this is basically for you doll <3

Sakusa:

You and Sakusa have been together for a around 10 years and love eachother immensly.

However recently Sakusa has been busy and you havent really had much time together lately as he claims been busy doing loads of visits with his new agent.

But of course, being the loving partner you are you wanted to revive the spark in your relationship.

You have been seeing a lot of people on social media posting their aesthetic ‘picnic dates,’ and you knew that this was something that appealed to you before it was ‘on trend.’ Kiyoomi immediately came to your mind once you had the idea of going on a date. You knew that you haven’t be around each other lately, as Kiyoomi always had either a ‘meeting’ or some sort of ‘interview’ that his new agent “Empress” has set up for him.

You didn’t really know Empress that well, just that she was ‘good at her job,’ a ‘hard and dilligent worker,’ and a ‘raging hottie’ with Atsumu’s opinion being the last one. You weren’t suspecting her to have any malicious intent towards you or Kiyoomi, since you knew that he had a great judge of character. But it was just odd, that every time Kiyoomi was running late or having ‘super-secret’ conversations on the phone it was always because ‘my agent set up this,’ ‘my agent set up that,’ and that’s what left you a bit wary.

As you were scrolling through your phone you see a calendar updating saying : Next Week‘ A DECADE AGO WE FELL IN LOVE.’

10 years. How could you forget? You and Omi have literally been together for a decade. You think back to the decade of madness and love you’ve been through together, smiling fondly to yourself but then you think about where you are now... barely even talking to each other, only mainly seeing him when he comes home from work.

You need to fix this. Or at least make an attempt to get you and Kiyoomi talking again. So, the only thing you can do, is plan that picnic.

You spent the rest of the day planning your anniversary picnic. ’It’s going to be great,’ you think to yourself, you have a list of all Omi’s favorite foods you're going to make him and bring and you are probably going to pick up a few board games and maybe even get some paint supplies. You and Kiyoomi used to paint a lot together, with the two of you not being the best of painters, but you enjoyed eachothers company non the less.

Everything was sorted...for the most part. All you needed to do was get Omi there, and it’ll all be okay. Right? As you were bubbling and looking for more picnic inspo, you hear your front door open which made you even more excited to tell your boyfriend your plans.

As you rush to go greet him, you see he’s on the phone making you roll your eyes. “No Empress it won’t work, we need this sorted by next week. Okay? Next week.” he says in an agitated way. He hangs up the phone and sighs, shoving off his duffel bag.

“Hey Omi, how was your day?” you say a bit hesitant, noticing his annoyed mood.

“Fine” He said dismissively, aiming to walk past you aiming for your bedroom.

“Oh well I have something amazing planned for ne-” you try to say following after him.

“Can we not do this right now Y/N,” he says again turning too look at you making you frown a bit, all you wanted to do is surprise him with your plans and have a day out with him. After noticing your sad look he finishes with “it’s just that Empress she’s bee-”

“I don’t want to hear about her.” you say bitterly folding your arms, Empress is the last person you want to hear about right now “God Omi can’t you just care about me? For once.”

“I do I-”

“You don’t anymore,” you say, with all the emotions and feelings you’ve been just supressing from a while coming up. You don’t even know how you got from point A to B with this conversation, but there's no stopping now. “I feel that, for a while now we haven’t been how we were before when we were just Y/N and Kiyoomi. Instead of how we are now. Just Y/N. Then Kiyoomi and Empress.”

After hearing his agents name, Kiyoomi’s name contorts to confusion “Empress? What does she have to do with anything?”

“How can you not see? For the past month all it’s been is ‘Empress this’ ‘Empress that,’” you complain “Having your super secret conversations with her, like god Kiyoomi can’t you see a problem with this?”

“It’s not like that Y/N, we’re just work partners” he says looking a bit annoyed “Just business.”

“Just business? So Kiyoomi, what were you talking about on the phone earlier” you say with your voice slight accusingly.

“Umm I, I can’t really say?” he says more of a question then a fully assured statement. You squint your eyes at him and scoff.

“What is going on with you Omi?” you say “are you cheating on me with her is that it?”

“No, no of course not Y/N! How could you even ask that?” he frowned at your question making your chest hurt, since deep down you knew he could never do that to you. Could he?

“Well tell me then, what were you talking about?” you ask again.

“I can’t say..” he finishes

“Well I can’t stay.” you say and his face goes back to confusion “Here. With you.”

“What do you mean Y/-”

“I need a break or something. I just can’t be here right now.” You start to rush and pack a big of things whilst Kiyoomi just stands there.

After you pack up your stuff, you look back and see Kiyoomi just there. Standing. You were upset, you kind of wanted him to rush after you and beg you not to leave, but he was just there. Standing. So you put the hand on the door and just before you leave you turn back and say “bye Sakusa, see you later?” to which you see him slightly nod at.

When the door shut, Kiyoomi starts to cry. After hearing you call him by his last name really twisted the knife that was already in his heart. You haven’t called him that since you were like 15. He knew what you wanted; he knew you wanted him to rush towards you and beg you not to leave, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. But what he could do is call the one person he only could call.

After a few rings, he hears “What do you need Saku?”

“She’s gone, she left.”

“What do you mean she’s gone, did you tell her?”

“No I didn’t tell her. And that’s the problem, Empress she think-”

“Saku, don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.”

“You’ll handle it?”

“Don’t I always?”

He couldn’t argue with that, he just had to trust that Empress could sort it. “And also, don’t spend the week with your head up your ass crying, you’ve got a lot of grovelling to do kiddo.”

He nodded even though she couldn’t see him, as he knew that what just went down needed to be resolved, fast.

Meanwhile, on your end. You’re a mess. Sobbing all the time, tissues are your best friend, you’ve been waiting just waiting for a message or a call, or some form of communication. You just wanted to feel wanted by your boyfriend (can you even call him that now.)

You spent the rest of the week at your parents, immersing yourself in your work and doing ‘self care’ things, trying to forget all about the argument you and Kiyoomi had.

One day, you receive a letter, it wasn’t delivered by a mail man though. It was slid under your door, in a golden envelope sealed with a red hot wax seal. It read:

‘Dear Y/N,

My sweetheart, im sorry for how the week has been and I know a letter with only a fraction of how I feel won’t make up for how I acted that day. But im inviting you to join me at the Gardenia Botanical Gardens at 2 pm tommorow, to celebrate our 10 year anniversary.

I know there is a big chance, you may not want to see me and I understand but please. I love you, so so much, that words can’t even describe. But I need you to see me apologise and I need to make it up to you.

I hope to see you there, I’d wait the whole day for you. If you don’t show, I understand.

Sincerely, Sakusa Kiyoomi

P.S The theme is ‘summer hot day, tea with the queen’ - Atsumu’

You smile at the letter, but wonder if you should actually go or not. You did want to see him of course and get this all resolved, but you had your own plans for your anniversary which wouldn’t of been spoiled if he didn’t withhold his super-secret phone calls.

It took you hours to contemplate on what to do, but you decided to just sleep on it and see how you feel tomorrow. In the morning, you knew what you wanted to do. Of course, you had to go, at least to hear him out and see if he really did cheat on you or not. For all you know he’s inviting you to tell you that he’s going to run away with his agent and his secret kids they had together. You shook the negative thoughts from your head and just repeated your mantra ‘hope for the best and prepare for the worst.’

When you got there, you didn’t exactly know where he would be but he said ‘botanical gardens’ so of course you decided to just wander around there. It was nice walking around and just smelling the roses, and seeing the pretty scenery.

“Excuse me ma’am,” you hear someone say tugging on your leg “um that mister over there told me to give you these.” Looking down, you see a small boy who looked about the age of four with a crumpled up bunch of roses handing them to you.

“Oh thank you,” you say giving the kid a head pat “where is this ‘mister’ might I ask?”

“He’s over there!” The kid pointed behind him and you look to see Kiyoomi sitting under a white gazebo which is surrounded in your favorite flowers and the table is filled with food.

You walk over to your ‘boyfriend,’ with him not noticing your present yet. When you reach him you say “I think she stood you up buddy,” you joke making him jump abit startled.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, instantly beaming “You came you made it!” he stood up and pulled you into a hug, which you return before you remember why you came here in the first place.

“Oh I-” he says awkwardly

You decide to sit down pulling him down with you. You kind of sit there in uncomfortable silence, for a while until you both say.

“So I-”

“What are yo-”

You both laughed at your simultaneous comments, before Kiyoomi looks at you letting you speak. “What did you want to bring me here for?”

“I didn’t want, what happened last week to happen Y/N I-” he says looking a bit panicked “It wasn’t supposed to go this way.”

“Then how was it meant to go Sakusa.”

“Y/N, please don’t call me that, I know I made you upset but pleas-” he starts before getting distracted again “Y/N, I called you here to say a few things..”

“Them being.?” you ask a bit impatiently.

“I love you. I love you so much, you don’t even understand. Ever since I saw you at my volleyball game in our first year, in the stands just cheering us on. I knew that from that day, after I scored the winning point and our eyes met, that we were destined to be together. I just love you so much Y/N”

“Omi I don’t understand I-”

“Just let me finish please, It’s taken a while for me to say this. And trust me, there’s been so many times when I wanted to just say ‘hey Y/N let’s get married,’ but I couldn’t I was scared, and I wanted it to be perfect, so perfect. Because you deserve the world Y/N. That’s why I got Empress to help, I know that our conversations may seem odd, but I love you and she knows that she just wanted to help trust me. And she did, all this wouldn’t of been done if it wasn’t for her. But anyways Y/N what I waned to say was I love you and I love you and I-” he rambles on loosing track of his words.

But in the midst of his speech, you hear all that you needed and responded with the only way you can.

“Yes.” you say simply, with a growing smile on your face.

“Yes?” he repeats confused “What do you meann ye- ohhh" Kiyoomi blushes embarrased that after all that he ended up ruining the thought out proposal he wanted to give you with his ramble.

“Im sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to say it like that I wanted it to be perfect and I-”

You shut him up with a kiss making his eyes widen as he reciprocates it anyways.

“What did she say?” you hear someone shout from a far, and you look over to see the MSBY Jackals all standing there with shit eating grins on their faces.

“I said yes!” you yell back, to which they all cheer and rush towards you guys giving you both hugs and slapping Kiyoomi on the back.

As the boys celebrate Omi finnally do what he’s been planning for ages, you get approached by Empress who awkwardly walks up to you. “ I didn’t want to leave the impression that me and Saku were any sort of thing?” she says

“Yeah I think it was definitely a big misunderstanding, it’s just that Omi was never around and whenever he was he was just talking to you and you know how it is.”

“I definitely know, I’d feel the same way if my boyfriend did that to me.”

“Oooh boyfriend?” you ask her feeling nosey on her romantic life.

“Yeah boyfriend. You know iwaizumi hajime... the trainer?” she says smiling a bit when she said his name.

“The trainer! Nice.”

The rest of the night was fun and was basically an engagement party for you and Omi all you and friends just partying and celebrating yours and Omi’s love for each other. “Omi” you say getting his attention “Happy ten year anniversary babe”

“Happy anniversary, I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

After the party you spend your months now planning for a big fat wedding, with the help of your new found bestie, Empress (who you obviously misjudged from the start.) You and Omi could never be happier, every thing was back to how it was before, maybe even better. And you definitely spent at least two Saturdays a month going out for picnics and it was now a tradition in your relationship, so in the end you did get your ‘aesthetic picnic date.’

AN: WHAT DID U GUYS THINK??

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyuu fluff #sakusa x you #sakusa headcanons #haikyu angst #sakusa fluff #sakusa x reader #sakusa oneshot #haikyu sakusa #signedwithane😌

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sstargoldens · 3 years ago

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nalu week 2020

Chapter 2

Prompt 2: Regret (July 2)

Natsu had experienced many adventures, more than the average person could relate to. His life as a magician brought many conflicts and battles but it also brought friendship and family. As a child he was unruly and a bit of an idiot, well he still is but from a very young age Natsu was seen with a recurring feeling of regret. And although it seems nothing like him, the truth is that since childhood his deep thoughts were reserved for himself. He was never able to freely share his negative feelings, he kept them in a very deep box inside of him. He avoided getting lost in them or even thinking about their existence but when he believed they no longer affected him, he could feel them under his skin, latent and intense. Natsu regretted many things, he always did. As a child he couldn't help but regret not having enjoyed more time with his father, his mind also made him regret that day when Igneel disappeared. If he had done something different, his father would be with him? He regrets not being able to do anything before he left.

In his life as a magician he regretted not having gone with Lisanna to the mission where she supposedly had passed away, for a long time the regret settled in the pit of his stomach. It was very difficult for him, it was his fault, he could have avoided that but he didn't. Until he met Lucy, a girl a bit strange but also sincere, kind and brave. One of the things that surprised him about her was the love that she dedicated to her spirits, the way she saw them as human beings, her iron will of what was right and wrong.

Being together and having adventures as a team made him feel good, he couldn't describe exactly why he felt the need to be with Lucy. But Natsu had fun with her, he liked to go on missions together, get into her apartment, eat her food, see her reactions so unique of hers, slowly Lucy became a fundamental part of his life. She became best friends with him alongside Happy. He considered the blonde to be her closest family , he was happy to have brought her to Fairy Tail.

Natsu always regretted many things but since Lucy entered the guild these only increased. When Phantom Lord kidnapped her and Gajeel beat her up, he had left her alone, vulnerable to all attacks. When Kain beat her in front of his own eyes and Natsu just stood there watching helplessly. When at the Great Magic Games he saw her being practically tortured and he couldn't do anything. When he couldn't stop Rogue from the future and saw Lucy murdered in front of his eyes. Maybe she wasn't his actual Lucy but she was still Lucy. When he left her for a year to go to training and the guild got dispersed. When they were kidnapped by Dimaria and he thought he had let her die.

Natsu regretted, he regretted not having the strength to protect the celestial mage, he regretted leaving her alone when she needed him most. Repentance. A feeling that flooded his chest, he had never failed someone like Natsu did with Lucy so many times. And that hurt like hell, he had failed her so many times and she still believed in him.

It didn't matter how many times he regretted something, Lucy never stopped believing in him, she never recriminated anything and always forgive him. She made his regrets fade but also caused new ones to appear. And it is that Lucy had changed the world from the moment she came into his life, continuously, since she arrived nothing was the same. She became the owner of a special part of his heart and made him understand things beyond fights and food. Lucy was his light and his downfall at the same time. He was completely in love with her and Natsu swore that until the end of the day he would be with her,he would protect her from anything. Because Lucy Heartfilia was the most beautiful coincidence he had ever had in his life.

Natsu regretted many things in his life.

But he would never regret meeting Lucy, he would never regret bringing her to Fairy Tail, he would never regret being her best friend and most of all he would never regret falling in love with the celestial spirit mage.

#nalu fanfic #nalu week 2020 #nalu #fairy tail #nalu fairytail #nalu fandom #sstargoldens #natsu x lucy #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #fanfiction

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tirsynni · 3 years ago

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Whats your opinion on The Winters family? I honestly really like re7 + re8 even tho much people don't, still, I want jill to be in re9 so bad 😭

Unfortunately, many of my opinions are biased because I'm so annoyed that they made those games numbered games instead of side games, like Revelations. I would have enjoyed them -- and their characters -- far more if they were side games and didn't lend such insecurity to the future of the franchise and if Jill and the other characters would be forever tossed to the side in favor of new characters.

But back to the question.

Mia was a villain and in any other game, she would have been treated as such. She was involved with the creation of BOWs, had some pretty shady shit going on if 8 was any indication, was a liar, and honestly had some sort of nasty streak considering Ethan never suspected anything at the beginning of 8. Instead, there's no indication that she ever experienced consequences for her actions. Instead, she was simply put in the position of "wife" and "mother." What the hell. It made no sense to me.

Rosemary? Apathetic about her until the very end (not big on babies in general, nonetheless one treated like a plot device or something similar until the very end with no personality or anything), when for some reason she's shown wearing her father's jacket. It felt like they were trying too hard to do the father&daughter connection despite the fact that she had never known him (unless it was through the mold, and there was no indication of that) and it was years later that we see her. That jacket held up pretty damned well. And when we see her, she's clearly under watch and is probably a weapon. Did Chris fail to protect her then? Did Chris allow her to become a weapon? How did she reach that point? It's supposed to be a sweet father&daughter ending but it comes off as damned negative considering that someone was actively asking if he should shoot her for very little cause. Was it supposed to be hopeful? Because it absolutely didn't come across that way.

Ethan? Honestly, pretty badass considering his pretty boring background. I don't understand why people in fanfics have to describe him as beautiful and gorgeous considering it seemed like everything was painting him to be an ordinary, boring man unless pushed to extremes. Honestly, the interesting thing about him is that he's an ordinary guy in an extraordinary situation, and I think trying to elevate him beyond that actually detracts instead of adds to his character. Kudos to him for the lengths he'll go to in order to protect his family. I love his lack of fucks. (Enemy's giving a dramatic speech? He just wants them to shut the fuck up already.) Possibly not that bright considering Mia lied to him for years, he never figured out that the whole hand and fingers thing wasn't exactly normal under any circumstances, that he didn't realize that it wasn't Mia at the beginning of 8 (although, again, that could just be saying some really nasty things about Mia), etc. And seriously, man. How the hell did you forgive your wife for lying to you for your entire marriage, refusing to ever talk to you about it, and being involved in some nasty shit which ended up ruining the lives of multiple people? He has an insane and stupid level of loyalty going on there.

I'm honestly not the best person to ask. Like, Ethan went above and beyond in those games, just to die. Mia was fucking awful in both games, including revealing in 8 that she kept some major secrets from her husband which helped lead to everything in 8, and yet we never see consequences for this. RE8 ends with Rose being shown in custody by people willing to kill her if she sneezes wrong and probably a weapon. All that and I was very interested in what the hell happened after RE6 (you know, where a US president was assassinated), only for these games to not mention it and go in a completely different direction with completely different problems. I think I sincerely would have like 7&8 if they were side games, but instead, the Winters family threw everything off and left me annoyed as hell with their fates.

#anonymous #slight meta #but yeah #the annoyance appears eternal #mild re rant #because i can't not

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valiantsword · 2 years ago

Text

the way she speaks takes his breath away. as if she’s digging deep inside his head to pull out those emotions. someone can guess. someone can talk about the loneliness he may feel but few can put the level of emotion behind those words that tells him they’ve experienced the same thing. andy is the one he hears it from the most. surprisingly, from booker, too. or, maybe not too surprisingly since he refused to walk away from his family and it turned around to kick him in the ass. not that he blames the french-man. arthur held on a little while not knowing any better but he never divulged what morgawse had done. he killed his attacker and kept everything else secret. had the war in camlann not erupted the king would’ve found another way to quietly slip off before any damage was done to his family.

he still misses guinevere. that was a hole in his heart time had never healed. at this point, arthur sincerely doubted it would. instead, the edges scabbed over and he learned to live without that giant piece of himself. he learned, though. the lessons he learned from both his partners were things he still strived for until this very day, even if they weren’t applied to sexual or romantic scenarios. better to give someone the benefit of the doubt then cut them off at the knees.

slowly, arthur sits up. while astoria so eloquently describes the loneliness in his heart one knee is pulled to his chest so he can hug it. images of myrddin come to him when they’re both sitting at the round table with flagons of mead sitting in front of them. everyone else was sleeping, which was when they spent a lot of time trying to make the hard decisions.

death happens, my love, myrddin would remind him. such a simple statement. he might as well have been saying the sun was going to rise the next morning. think about the lives we need to save.

the immortal pushes to his feet, letting the words slide over him. he wanders towards the hotel door to peek through the little sight-hole. everything looked clear so he slid the lock and clicked in the chain. precaution because he’d been caught without a gun.

“ back when i was in the…army, “ a brief hesitation because arthur is hellbent on continuing the vulnerability. each piece of astoria was a gift he’d hold on to for eternity. the least he could do was share pieces of him in exchange. and yet, that giant neon immortal sign over his head still hadn’t turned on so bits of his story needed to be adjusted to make sense. did he know how modern army was structured? no. not even in cornwall. hopefully, she didn’t either. “ my second was a beautiful tactician. scary, in fact. the things he could come up with to maximize our gains and their losses was… i don’t think i’ll ever see anything like it again. at the same time, he was more than willing to sacrifice a few pawns for the bigger picture. ‘ one life for hundreds, arthur. two lives for thousands. ‘ so simple. “

he makes it to the chair on the opposite side of the room, digging his beretta from beneath the dirty shirt and jeans. casually, he checks to make sure there’s a bullet in the barrel then clicks the safety back on. since he’s wearing sweatpants he can’t exactly slip it into his waistband so he slips it back in the holster. arthur carries it with him to the bathroom where he grabs his boots as opposed to grabbing the knife itself.

“ except, it’s like a bad yelp review, yeah? all i think of is that one face he wants to sacrifice. a face i’ve probably sat at a table with. maybe had a drink with. what have we already survived together. that one negative deserves to be acknowledged and we kept, “ arthur shrugs. through all the talking he’s made it back to the side of the bed he’d been laying on. he bends over, setting the boots next to the night stand so he can grab the knife if he needs to. at this point he doesn’t honestly anticipate it’ll come to some cinematic hotel fight. if anything, they’ll get attacked beyond the walls. out in the open? in a crowd? hard to say without knowing who.

the holster is set next to the lamp on what he now keeps thinking of as his side of the bed. it’s unbuttoned for a quick draw. if he were by himself he’d just set the thing right out in the open but there is this part of his brain that wants to dampen the implications of having a gun so close even knowing astoria is fully capable is protecting herself.

weapons in place, arthur plops himself back on the bed. he’s on his back, with his feet flat on the duvet so his knees are bent. both his arms shove under the pillow to prop him up that extra little bit of height. he smiles because she gets it. in her own way. something tells him astoria’s view of death and loneliness is different than how he’s come to frame it but she gets it in a way no one else has been able to. that lifts a weight off his chest he didn’t even know he had. for all the shared experiences he had with the other immortals even their views on death were different from his own. so much so that they didn’t get it. not like astoria does.

“ as soon as you say the word, birdy, i will gladly act on it. “ because there is still that part of him that wants to hear that ‘ okay ‘ before he does anything. but, he’s also enjoying the pace they’re going at. does he want her naked? absolutely. their conversations, however, have been just as heady.

the vineyard perks his ears up. “ to be painfully honest, i’m more a whiskey and beer kind of guy. i know very little of wine beyond it being alcoholic grape juice. desi, though. he’s the one who introduced me to the gemischter satz but i am glad the merlot ended up being a good shot in the dark. “ his smile is the most genuine it’s been in as long as he can remember. “ the way you talk about the vineyard makes me wonder if you’ve ever considered going down that career path. life of grapes instead of adventure? “

the immortal offhandedly wonders if that’s a way to stay dead. toss his body in a freezer while he’s regenerating so that it just doesn’t happen. or, would it still? boiling sounded more painful but more practical. could he regenerate if the blood evaporated? what a morbid train of thought. keeps him from wondering about whether he should comment on the engagement. did he bring up his family again? would it even help to talk to guinevere? honestly, no, but there is a part of him that thinks astoria deserves that kind of honesty.

“ magic’s always made me curious. i had a babysitter who was a druid and she’d talk about all sorts of things that i‘ve always chalked up to fairytales. never mentioned freezing or boiling anything but i do remember a few scrapes that healed a little faster than my mother expected. “ nimue would talk of sprites and faeries and the energy that connected all things. uther respected it. maybe he knew something he’d never told arthur. magic certainly would’ve been nice to know about in his early years as an immortal even if it’s not the answer he was looking for.

“ private contractor, yeah. mercenary. same difference. this is definitely it. there’s this part of me that wants a family again but, “ he shrugs into the pillows. “ rather be doing? never had a hobby. fighting. it’s always been fighting in one way or another. if another option slapped me in the face i’d never know it. i tried…walked away for a few years because someone talked me out of it and i started dabbling in a few business ventures. didn’t work out. “

There's something all too understandable in him, now. Astoria takes note of the tension, waxing and waning in cycles, and she considers everything left unspoken, realizing with mild dismay that she thinks she could finish what she thinks he won't. For a moment she watches him, worrying her lower lip between her teeth, and when she speaks next it's almost as if she's testing her theory. To recognize herself in another person is always a little agonizing, but to recognize so much—

"There's something comfortable in it," she says. "Being that oppressively lonely, I mean. You know what to expect. You don't have to worry about being left behind, for whatever reason, if you don't let anyone keep up with you in the first place." Their individual relationships with death seem to be vastly different, at the very least. Death is an old friend to her, now, preferring to stand at her front door rather than risk ejection from her home. She has been surrounded by it since she was a girl. There is no space, she thinks, for fear of death when death is what gives her power. She always knew there would come a day when she wore someone else's bones. She can't quite tell exactly what has passed between Arthur and death, but she doubts it's been so warm, so familial, with him as it has with her.

Even so... "I imagine it's about a thousand times worse when you're responsible for anyone else. It doesn't matter how many times you've seen it, or how hard you work to yourself for it: watching someone die is hell. And it's worse when you know you were responsible, somehow." She had laughed, when she killed them, and then she'd wept, and she'd wept, and she'd wept, desperate and frightened and feeling very, very young. It had been the only way to survive. It had still broken something in her. "Sometimes I think that's part of what makes it hard to imagine anything serious with somebody who doesn't get that. Like—it doesn't matter the circumstances, or what you've done in the aftermath, but once that blood is on your hands, it's there. And you know if you touch someone who couldn't handle that, you'll stain them, and they might not recover from it."

When did this get so serious? Why doesn't it bother her more? She tries to remember the last time she had such an honest conversation with someone, anyone, but she can't.

"And then the lying—Christ, trying to remember all the details you fill in to make up for the details they can't know? It's hell. At some point you decide that getting close enough to anyone that you should be honest with them makes you the unforgivable kind of sadist, or masochist, or both."

When did this get so serious? Why doesn't it bother her more? She tries to remember the last time she had such an honest conversation with someone, anyone, but she can't.

His honesty is refreshing. Simple, sweet, no unnecessary details, nothing to make her feel like she needs to put on a show, nothing to write a script for her to follow. Her lips curl up into a smile that's impossibly fond. "Be honest with me for a moment, älskling. Do I strike you as a woman who does much of anything just for politeness' sake? If I didn't want you here, I wouldn't ask. If I didn't want you to like me, I'd be spectacularly unpleasant. And if I didn't want you to act on it, I'd stop inviting you to do just that.

"Not that I mean to rush you," she adds, knocking a knuckle gently against his knee. "I don't mean this at all unkindly, but you seem about as fucked up as I am. Similar kind of fucked up, for what it's worth, but I get it. I think I've been more honest with you over the last three days than I have been with anyone else since I started having things worth hiding, and there's still plenty we haven't even touched. I'm not bothered by your secrets if you're not bothered by mine—honesty doesn't mean full disclosure. But the point is, take your time. I'm enjoying this. I'm not going anywhere any time soon. The point is also that this bed is a hell of a lot more comfortable than the floor, even if we're not putting the mattress to proper use, and as long as you don't mind that I don't really have a concept of personal space when I'm asleep, there's no reason not to share it."

This much, at least, she knows how to put into words. Astoria sits upright with a quiet groan, already regretting moving from so comfortable a position, and she picks up the bottles, examining them curiously before she opens the merlot. "My grandmother's family had a vineyard in Friuli. It's still functional—small, mostly just for the family and friends. My uncle runs it now. Well," she amends, laughing, and she pours herself a glass, "my aunt runs it. Their boys are fourteen now and they're curious enough that they can help. We make a beautiful pinot grigio, have for generations, but when my grandparents got married, my grandfather insisted on expanding, and now, we make a damn good merlot."

She swirls the wine in the glass before she bows her head and breathes it in, and after a beat she looks up at him and she smiles so widely it almost hurts. A taste of the wine confirms what she suspects, and she wrinkles her nose, pleased. "We make a damn good merlot," she repeats, "but this is better. Wonderful choice. Do you want a glass?"

As to his question about magic—"Eskil's curse is still beyond what I can do, but I'm learning. It's like a complicated knot. I'm only interested in untying it if I can tie it again when I'm done. My grandmother taught me how to do it. It's called thaumaturgy—it's the study of magic. Even magic works on a system of internal logic. It's just about figuring out how that system functions.

"I like that you're interested in this." There's something almost shy in her expression now, a hint of color in her cheeks, but she ignores it. "I don't often get to talk about it like this. It comes up in business, but it's rare that I've got an opportunity to get into it beyond that. The last time I even thought about discussing this with somebody so personally was... shit, eight years ago? I was engaged," she confesses. "We'd been together four years, engaged for two, I kept putting off wedding plans, and he figured I was just acting my age. Any twenty-one-year-old will have cold feet. I thought about it all the time, but I never told him about any of it. And I never had to say hi honey, sorry I missed your call, I killed a warlord today, but it may not surprise you to know there's no normal way to tell someone you were experimenting with whether or not you could potentially freeze blood, since you already figured out how to boil it."

Whoops. I can boil someone's blood, no, literally, I mean it— is hardly a normal thing to tell someone. She finds she isn't bothered by it. She considers him for a moment, then asks, before she can talk herself out of it, "Is there anything you wish you were doing instead of this? Or is this it for you? What's the appropriate term—private contractor?"

#softersinned #thread: softersinned 002 #✭ ㅤ interaction ㅤ ››› ㅤ for those who kiss the ring ㅤ .#✭ ㅤ main verse ㅤ ››› ㅤ we’re not meant to be alone ㅤ .#there i go getting carried away again

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thermaflute · 4 years ago

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May you write a hc for Baku and/or todo with a black girlfriend

Thank you for your patience! Imma start rolling them out. Also included Sero on this one because the ask was similar!

Katsuki Bakugo

💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣

Your angry little sunflower.

You initially curved his ass so hard because he came at you sideways.

He had that “you definitely want me” attitude and you told his ass to kick rocks.

He was kind of used to people throwing themselves at him so being told to essentially fuck off sent him reeling.

He felt awful man, he really did like you but he didn't know how to say it without, well, being himself about it.

He approached you the next day and apologized. It was an odd one but you could tell that it was hard for him to even say it so it must have been sincere. You gave him a chance.

Months later, you’re living your best life with Katsuki.

His favorite activity was showing you off. He even went as far as to get you on a hero magazine cover with him.

There was quite a bit of controversy. People had some opinions about you, and he quickly assured you he has no regrets about loving you.

It’s not like he ain’t seen a black woman before but like you….you were something else.

He was quick to defend you online, and quickly let anyone who had anything even vaguely negative to say about you know that they weren’t worth the dirt you walk on.

He takes care of you man, and speaking of getting taken care of...

He’s definitely the type to spoil you, he wants to see you happy. Expect all kinds of luxury.

You basically accidentally become an Instagram model just because he flexes you too much (as if there’s such a thing).

He’s also the kind of guy to love matching clothes with you. Whether it’s the whole fit or just the colors, he’s the king of matching.

He’s just a sucker for you man, he got himself a baddie and he’s so happy about it 🥺

Shoto Todoroki

🔥❄🔥❄🔥❄🔥❄🔥❄🔥❄🔥❄🔥❄

Imma be honest, he’s probably gonna come off weird at first.

Well intentioned, just has no game to save his life.

Bakugo heard him describe you as a “beautiful chocolate queen” and he volunteered his services ASAP.

“You are gonna get PUNCHED saying that.”

“But she is :(“

Shoto swiped up on your story and said you looked “entrancing”.

Ain’t a soul has ever called you that and you FREAKED.

Bakugo was about to slap him over the head for that but you responded.

“Yeah you look good too Todoroki lmaooo”

“Good enough to date?”

“I meannnn, where are you trying to go?”

“Somewhere worth your time.”

Bakugo was proud of his handy work, the entrancing was still whack but he figured you were weird enough to let it slide.

You were very quickly his girl.

He was eager to learn all about you, but it sometimes came off a bit too forward. Lucky for him though, you never mind.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah Shou?”

"Someone told me you had black girl magic? I didn’t know you possessed magical capabilities. I’m not scared or anything, I would just like to see it myself.”

You were stuck between laughing and curling him up and awwwing from just how oblivious and precious he is.

You plant a small kiss on his forehead and watch him get flustered, “that’s the magic Shou, do you not like it?”

“I do I do, I just thought there’d be more-” he waves his hands around trying to find a way to explain himself.

You lean in for a longer kiss on his lips and feel him relax underneath you.

“Was that more magical.”

“Maybe….:

You laugh and actually fully explain what it is to him, he finds it absolutely endearing and uses it to describe everything you do.

He’s a quick learner overall and he quickly gets all the little differences and embraces them fully.

You never have to worry about your relationship with him man, you’re always worth the effort.

Give this man the patience and love he deserves and you’ll receive it back tenfold.

Hanta Sero

🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊

Dude is a goofball.

He got uncle energy and you hate it but love it all at the same time.

He saw Denki talking to you while out on a run one day and you all shared a hilarious conversation.

The second you said your goodbye and continued your jog he was begging to find out your info.

He was whipped by you, you had your hair up in a poof and the sun was hitting your gloss just right. If he didn't know any better he would say you were an angel.

He found your Insta and was LIVING. You’re pretty, humble, and funny as hell. He HAS to talk to you.

Unlike the other two he had game from the get go, he immediately approached you the next day and asked you out.

Of course you said yes!

He is such a giver and so very patient and loving of things that usually confuse others.

He’s always there when you feel down, even if you don’t want to talk he’ll just hold you and tell you small jokes just to get you to smile.

He’s also the kind of boyfriend to just bother you and then go back to minding his business. Randomly poking you and eating your food just to see you get on him about it.

He thinks it’s cute, okay.

"What do you want!"

He quits poking you, grabs your popcorn, and just leaves the couch. "Nothing."

"My popcorn 🥺".

He will wait all day with you while you’re getting your hair done at your friends house, he even brings you and her some food back since it’s been awhile.

She’s taking photos for your page and he’s just complimenting you, telling you how good you look and how he wants some photos of you too.

Cue your ass looking awkward on a dining room chair with your hair just done. He doesn’t mind, he’s just glad his baby is happy. He sends the photos to everyone and Mina scolds him on not waiting until you were at least ready for the pic.

Speaking of hair, he got some texture himself so yall both sleep in bonnets.

He be losing his own so sometimes you get back to your apartment late and just see him curled up on the bed with your bonnet on.

You just about take it off his head because he couldn’t even steal one of your durags he had to take the bonnet with the really nice elastic band.

He’s lucky you love him.

🤡🧡🤡

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugo x reader #todoroki x reader #sero x reader #katsuki bakugou #shoto todoroki x reader #hanta sero #bnha x black reader #bnha x poc!reader #bnha x reader #bnha #bakugo headcanons #todoroki headcanons #sero headcanons #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons

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kaylans-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

solare

pairing: peter b. parker x fem! cheerleader! reader

solare: an italian word to describe a person who brightens the room, who is warm, good, and cheerful; who also worries about others.

Synopsis: in which peter benjamin parker finds the personified version of warmth and happiness.

Peter Parker had endured a lot throughout his life. He had lost his uncle, his life for five years, then he came back, and then lost his mentor. It was a wonder to him and everyone else that he found a way to continue pushing through and fighting the fight for good, even if he at times couldn’t exactly figure out just why he was doing an unpaying job. He would push away those thoughts and remind himself that he did it for the little guy, for the underdog, for the people like him before he got bitten. Still, there were days when the darkness would cloud over his mind, and he would spiral into sadness.

His Aunt May had suggested he go to a counselling group, someplace where he could express himself without fear of judgement or illwishers. Where he could find people he could relate to and for once have people care for him. He had dismissed that idea by claiming he didn’t have the time to do, too occupied in burying himself with his schoolwork, Spider-Man duties, and keeping up his social life. That was the end of that conversation, but he still couldn’t help but yearn for some type of way to release all the negative emotions that weighed heavily on his mind and his heart.

He had admittedly been distant from his friends and from his Aunt May, but he couldn’t find it in himself to find something to talk about. He was thrust into a world that he didn’t recognise anymore. It had been five years, and in those five years, people had grown up, and things had changed drastically. Much like the person in the mirror, he didn’t recognise his surroundings when he looked around. He could only hope he wouldn’t drown and get stuck in a flood of uncertainties, in this new time without his mentor to guide him.

He sighed through his nose as he swung around the lit city, back towards the comfort of his own bedsheets. He couldn’t wait to get lost under the sea of blankets and find comfort in the sounds of the bustling city. Spending all of his life in Queens, he grew accustomed to the yelling, the loud honking of horns, and the busy street life that now offered him solace. A haven. A source of relief he wasn’t able to find elsewhere. The confinements of his blankets and the sounds of New York gave him the ease he needed.

Assuring his aunt that he was back home and alive, he quickly slipped into his bedroom and snuggled under the covers, relieving himself of the tension he carried. His mind fell into a trance of serenity and easiness as it wandered through happy memories he savoured—recollections of his Uncle Ben, Aunt May, and himself at the beach when he was younger. Uncle Ben and him bonding over ice cream while they walked in Central Park—Peter would point out a dog in the distance, Ben would look at it and then his nephew and chuckle, promising that when they get a bigger home, they will get a dog. He reminded himself of when he helped May with the gardening; it wasn’t much gardening, just a few pots on their balcony, but it was peaceful.

His life was a routine. Every morning, he would wake up at the same time, have a quick breakfast, kiss his aunt goodbye, and the rush towards the train where he would go to school and meet Ned by his locker. The school day would cease, and he would go to decathlon practise until it was over, then make his way towards Delmar’s, which had re-opened in the five years he was blipped, and then complete the leftover homework he needed to do until he had to go on with his Spider-Man duties. It was the same, except for weekends, every day, and he was okay with that. It helped make his life easier—knowing that there were no surprises or changes in his day-to-day life made it easier for him and helped unburden him from the weight he carried with him.

The day he met Y/N had been a good day. He hadn’t missed his train that morning; Flash wasn’t up to his usual antics, choosing to ignore him and flirt with an uninterested cheerleader, and he had a good feeling about the History exam in his third period. That was until he stepped into his Physics class and was informed of the new seating chart being projected in front of the class. He and Ned had been able to bypass the seating chart for two quarters already, but they both knew their luck would fizzle out and they would have to be separated. Peter hoped he would get seated with someone he knew, so long as it wasn’t Flash. He would take being a stranger's partner over being Flash’s partner any day. Sighing in relief when he didn’t see his name next to Flash’s, he searched for him on the screen.

Peter Parker and Y/N Y/L/N, table 08.

Peter wasn’t good at making friends. He tried, but he always came off too strong or not strong enough. He was painfully awkward and stumbled over his words. He would also talk about something no one else was interested in and come off as weird and a ‘nerd’. Over time, he was able to be okay with having one friend, and just recently, his newfound group of friends. To force himself to make small talk with a new person made his stomach churn. He wished he could have May’s social skills and welcoming nature.

Exhaling to relax the nerves building in his stomach, he made his way towards the table with a paper eight taped on it. It might have been the fact that the window was right beside the table or the fact that Peter hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, but he swore he saw a glow bouncing perfectly off the silhouette seated on the hard stool closest to the window. She was looking out the window, perfectly content on looking at the garden Midtown had decided to grow during the five years half the population was gone. It was a beautiful garden.

Shuffling on his feet, he dragged himself to the seat next to the seemingly glowing girl with intentions of sitting down without making noise, not to pull her from her gaze, but the universe had other plans. His toe met the stool’s hard metal, making the girl snap out of her daze and look at Peter with mild surprise. He was fully expecting her to lash out at him, to ask him why he needed to make so much noise, and he was fully ready to apologise. But the questioning never came, and neither did his need to apologise. Instead, he was met with a warm smile and concerned eyes.

“Are you okay? That sounded like it hurt,” she spoke with a lightness in her tone he had never heard before. New Yorker’s were usually brash and straight to the point; there was no place for airiness or lightness in voices. They didn’t care about anyone else but themselves and their loved ones. To feign importance in the busy city, one had to speak with importance. She was a breath of fresh air to him, like the feeling of the seaspray on his face when he steps into the ocean. Around her, he felt at peace.

“I-I’m Parker, no,” he stumbled over his words and mentally cursed himself, “I’m Peter.” This was the part where people would smile at him with fake sincerity, shake his hand, and make some excuse to leave. He was waiting for her to look at him with judgement and refuse to shake his hand. He wasn’t expecting her to take his hand into hers and shake it with a giggle.

“Next to meet you, Parker Peter. I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” she introduced. She drew him in by the way she stared at him, so deeply and with intrigue, and kept him wanting more of her presence in the way she spoke, with confidence but kindness. He was sure this was someone he needed in his life, someone he had to keep around. She was like the sun, and the sky rolled in one, someone he couldn’t help but stare at.

They shared shy smiles, sneaking glances now and then. Peter couldn’t focus on his teacher’s rambling, too entranced by the body sitting beside him. From the corner of his eye, he could see her scribbling in her notebook, following along with what the teacher was saying. He could see little drawings on the corner of her paper; small hearts, smiley faces, and infinity signs taking up the corner. The sight of the doodles filled his heart with warmth; they were adolescent like and riddled with innocence. They were endearing, just like her.

The class seemed to drag on, and Peter was barely able to keep up. His mind was in another world; thoughts of protecting the city after homework to what he would have for dinner. A small part was thinking of the pretty girl who doodled on the corners of her papers. She had drawn a small smiley face on his paper at one point and sent him a smile when he looked at her afterwards. She had made a long class, that usually felt like it dragged on, shorter and yearning for more time. If anything, just to sit there and be in her presence.

The bell signalled the ending of the class, and Peter slowly stood up. He packed his belongings as slowly as he could. He looked to the side; she put her books into her bag - they were all colourful and decorated with glittery and bubble stickers. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight. She sent him a smile and stood up from her chair, pushing her chair in slowly.

“Bye, Parker Peter. See you, next class,” she said sweetly with a wave and exited the class, a happy and light bounce to her step. He watched her leave. Her hair bounced and glossed under the school’s fluorescent lights, and her skirt sashayed behind her. He watched as she waved and greeted people before she disappeared from his view. He didn’t stand a chance with the pretty girl in his chemistry class.

Ned bounded towards him, talking his ear off about what his partner did and how he was so glad he had someone who wouldn’t make him do all the work. Peter, at that moment, felt like a bad friend. He wanted to listen to his best friend, keep a conversation going. But all of him kept him from doing so, instead directing his thoughts towards the popular, bubbly girl who was now surrounded by her loads of friends at her locker. Peter smiled her way, not expecting it to be returned, but to his surprise, she smiled back and raised her hand with a little wave. He took the time to peak into her locker. He could see pictures and magnets lining up the area; permeating the dull grey with life and personality. He also made out the neatly folded cheerleader uniform resting on the top shelf. Of course, he would have to start crushing on an unattainable cheerleader.

He had no choice but to settle for crushing on her and wanting her from a distance. He figured that simply being an acquaintance to her would be enough. It would be enough. Being in her life would be just fine. It was a sad thought, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t gone through before. The thought made his heart hurt, but that was also coupled with the thoughts he had already harboured—memories of his past, he and his uncle, of Tony. Those kept him up at night and clouded his thinking whenever he swung building to building.

That night was the same; he sat on top of his apartment building, taking in the changing scenery. The lack of stars once brought him comfort, but he found recently that they brought him more pain. Normally, he loved the vastness of the wide space and how little they knew about it. He would let his imagination run wild with possibilities of everything in the unknown. When he was younger, he liked to imagine there were aliens up there, living happily without care. He would divulge in that from time to time, feeding his inner child. He loved the tenacity, the freedom, and the serenity of it all. But the same things made him feel small. It put everything into perspective. It put into perspective how small he was. Sometimes, he couldn’t help but feel as if there was no escape.

He sat on the edge of the building, taking in all the different personalities the city below him had to offer. Couples cuddled up with one another, walking into their shared homes. Families laughing with one another as they finished their night. Friends walked with one another, whispering in ears and cackling to drown the cars and taxis’ noise. That was the city he loved. The city he grew up in. But that didn’t stop him from wanting an escape. Somewhere far from the city where he could simply sit and think without the distractions. He knew that was wishful thinking, but it didn’t cost a thing to dream.

Choosing to end the night earlier than usual, he stood up from his place and swung forward. Aunt May wouldn’t be home, so dinner wouldn’t be ready until she got there. He considered going to Delmar’s; having one of his sandwiches always made him feel better. Something stopped him, though. Maybe it was the sound of a laugh, one he had heard before, or the familiar satin blue scrunchie that rested on her wrist. He watched her, talking on the phone and laughing and throwing her hands up in the air. He quickly averted his eyes, staring at her for too long was weird even if he was Spider-Man.

That night he slept better than usual. Aunt May had found him asleep on his bed with his arm hanging off the mattress, his body slanted, and his head hanging off to the side with his mouth wide open. While it was an awkward position, she was glad he was sleeping so early in the night. The years had been rough on him, pushing past his limits and stressing him beyond belief. He was overdue for a break, and a long one. But she knew her nephew; he would never take a break. The city of Queens needed him.

While he normally dreaded going to school, not because he had to pay attention, or because it was hard, but because for seven hours, the city of Queens was left defenceless and at mercy. But, this day was different. There was a spring in his step and an easy smile on his face, not even Flash’s taunting got to him. Walking into the chemistry classroom, his eyes roamed the classroom until they landed on his new table. She was already sitting there. Scribbling on her glittery notebook with a blue pen adorned with a fuzzy top.

Settling down next to her, she sent him a smile, “good morning, Mister Peter,”

He laughed, “Good morning, Miss Y/N,”

Peter was left yearning for more interactions with the gorgeous cheerleader with the fun pens, especially after she gave him a sticker with a golden retriever on it; it was an adorable puppy with its paw out and licking, what he presumed, was glass. She had told him it was because he reminded her of a puppy, most notably a golden retriever puppy. Her words had made him flush and sputter over himself, nearly causing him to injure his hand on the bunsen burner set in front of them. She giggled and gave him another sticker; it was a simple smiley face that he put on his notebook next to the golden retriever.

She had bitten the bullet one day and invited him to a football game, one against Midtown’s rival school. Peter had been to football games before, having been in marching band, but that was before he was Spider-Man. A high school football game wouldn’t fit in his schedule, but the way she asked him and looked at him with an expectant and hopeful grin had him saying yes. So, he did what any sane person would do, and said yes. She squealed and wrapped her arms around him, taking him but surprise and let go of his neck. She gave him another sticker that day, one with a teddy bear holding a red heart in its centre.

That’s how he found himself sitting in the uncomfortable metal bleachers next to Ned and MJ, who insisted on coming but wasn’t paying attention, rubbing his hands together in an attempt to block out the cold. While Ned was focused on the football game happening before them, and MJ was engrossed in her book, Peter found himself staring at the seemingly glowing cheerleader chanting out cheers and praises. He watched as she threw her pompoms up and waved them around when Midtown presumably made a touchdown and huffed in exasperation when they didn’t.

The final buzzer went off, knocking Peter from his trance. Ned and MJ were getting up from their seats and making their way down the bleachers making Peter scramble to catch up. They waited for him, rather impatiently as Ned was tapping his foot and MJ was patting her book, and he rushed towards them. He stopped when a small body in a blue and gold outfit stood in front of him, a grin on her face and her pompoms resting on her duffle bag. He locked eyes with Ned who gave him a thumbs up and pushed an unimpressed MJ away from the fence.

“Parker! You came! Did you have fun?” she asked, her words rushed and fast as she could barely contain her excitement. Peter chuckled and nodded his head, wanting nothing more than to hug her. To help her calm down, of course. She took him by surprise, a common theme, by wrapping her arms around him and snuggling into his chest. He was glad she couldn’t hear how fast his heart was beating, but it was in overdrive. He thought that his senses had dialled up to one hundred when he was bitten, but it was nothing compared to how they were at that moment. She had a control over him that he never thought anyone would have. But he was glad it was her and not anyone else.

“What d’ya say Parky? You wanna go on a stroll?” Peter looked down at her and nodded his head. He hadn’t heard a word of what she said, too distracted by her beauty and the way her arms felt around him. She was the warmth on a cold day; hot cocoa under a blanket of snow, and the sunset after a nice day on the beach. She was someone Peter wanted in his life when things got to be too difficult for him to manage, and when he was at his highest because he knew she would only send him to the moon.

He waved goodbye to Ned and MJ, Y/N did too, promising to listen to Ned’s new LEGO purchase the following Monday, and watched as MJ’s car pulled away from the curb. She took his hand into hers and dragged him towards her car. She unlocked it before motioning for him to get in, throwing her bag into the backseat and starting the engine. He couldn’t help but glance around the car. Stickers decorated the dash in front of him; he was sitting in pink seat cover with the letters ‘TPWK’ stitched on it in white, and her steering wheel was decorated with a big sunflower. It was so unapologetically her, and that made Peter smile.

In the time Y/N drove, Peter texted May and let her know he would be out late. He was met with a ‘good riddance! Stay safe :)’ in response. Peter watched the streetlights pass by as Y/N drove through the city and past city limits. For once in his life, since he was a child, he let himself be free and enjoy the scenery night brought. He was bummed that the city filled the night sky with smog because he really wanted to appreciate the beauty of the stars and the moon. He wanted to see her under the moonlight because he knew without a doubt that she looked even more gorgeous. He had been so distracted by his thoughts, that for once didn’t make him want to hide under a heap of blankets, that he hadn’t noticed she stopped the car. She hadn’t said anything; she just watched him. He was at peace, and that was all she wanted him to be.

Peter opened his eyes and looked ahead. He could see the city in the distance, the lights on in buildings, and with his super hearing, he could hear the city’s faint sounds. She cleared her throat and pointed up, her moon roof was open and exposed the glittering sky above them. He stared at it in awe. He knew they were far from the city, but he hadn’t realised how far, far was until he saw unfamiliar glistening above him. She watched him with soft eyes, smiling at his bafflement and wonder. It didn’t need to be said, but she knew he needed this moment.

In the months that followed the switching of seats in chemistry class, she noticed things about him. The bags under his eyes that covered his freckles, the tired and subtle yawns, and the rushing of homework that was due the next period. She didn’t know why he was always tired, but something in her told her it was important. The bigger part of her told her that she needed to do something for him, something to distract him and ease his mind. So, she brought him to her spot outside of the city, to do what she did best. She stared at the moon and let her mind run with what it would be like to live in space and reside on the moon.

“You see that pattern up there; I call it the Huntress,” she pointed towards Orion, “stories of the stars are always about men, and the stories about women are always depicted as helpless. It makes me feel better knowing that a woman is the hunter in the stars, even if it is just in my mind.” Peter nodded along. He wanted to hear more. So, she told him her versions on the stars. He let himself get lost in her words, inching closer towards her over the console. She paused her story and motioned up towards the moon roof. He climbed out first and helped her, the two of them settling on top of her car.

She continued her story on the twins, the two of them leaning on one another. Peter felt all his inhibitions and everything holding him back let go and get lost in the night sky. That night he didn’t think of all he lost, of everything he had endured; that night he thought of the sunshine sitting next to him and how he would be okay in the face of peril, so long as he had her by his side. His personal cheerleader. He thought of the way her lips felt on his and the giggle that erupted from her soft lips; about how they tasted like pomegranate.

In her, he found himself walking on the sun’s rays and being hugged by warmth. For once, he didn’t stare at the sun with anger; instead, he basked in her warmth because the warmth enveloped him.

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sugarmaplewings-fics · 4 years ago

Text

Baby, You’re Perfect

Pairing: BNHA Boys x reader

Warnings: Weight insecurity, negative body image/icky thoughts, body shaming from relatives, talks about skipping a meal once, general stuff like that. Kirishima’s reader is actively trying to lose weight. Cursing/language throughout (but mostly in Bakugou’s)

Characters: Bakugou, Kirishima, Kaminari

Author’s Note:

And here we have yet another request that is super old. I’m talking this has been chillin in my inbox for three good months. My sincere apologies, anon. And again, I’m sorry that that had to happen to you. Your grandma has no right to speak to you in that way. You’re making great progress and that’s amazing! Keep going strong, I believe in you. Anyhow, I had a lot of fun doing this request! We all need more chubby y/n on this website.

Yes, it says Hawks but I contacted the anon and we switched it to Denki bc I don’t write for Keigo (and we had a lovely conversation. they’re very nice :D).

Also the first two insults are things that have actually been said/done to me irl (hehe tasty self projection) and the last one in Denki’s is from an episode from Tuca and Birdie (it’s a good show).

Anyway, be nice to people. Respect others and speak to them as equals. We’re all human beings here, trying to get by. We’re also like a month away from 2021, I shouldn’t have to say that >:(

Happy Thanksgiving!

-Sugar

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Bakugou:

You couldn’t take it anymore. You were tired of their faces, tired of their words. You were headed home early, and you would not be sorry.

You didn’t hate your family. They could just be a little . . . difficult sometimes.

At first, it had gone well. You’d arrived at your aunt’s house yesterday for a family gathering and met up with everyone. They’d hugged you and asked you how you were doing. They’d even asked after your pro hero boyfriend, who you had chosen not to bring along for the purpose of spending some quality alone time with your family.

But then it happened; the thing you’d been dreading, the type of comment you’d hoped against all things you wouldn’t hear this time. But there it was.

You were nearly done preparing for lunch, helping to place dishes of food out in the backyard for your family meal. Your aunt was starting to serve people food, and you happened to glance up to see one of your cousins making herself a plate.

“Do you want any more?” your aunt asked your cousin, ready with her ladle.

“No, thank you, I’ve got enough.” Your cousin flipped her long perfect hair over a perfectly narrow shoulder. “I wouldn’t want to get fat like—” her gaze wandered over to you, meeting your eyes pointedly, “—some people.”

You faltered. Had she really just said that? About you? Well, it wasn’t impossible that it would come from her, but seriously? Today?

You swallowed a lump that had started forming in your throat, setting down the new stack of paper plates. Your aunt shot you a pitying glance. Was she even going to say something? Would she call your cousin out on her words?

No. She just moved on. Moved on like you should have. But something about it stuck with you. Your cousin’s words and implications rang through your mind, making you feel sick to your stomach. You shouldn’t let it bother you this much. You were doing better, both with your habits and your confidence. So why did it hurt so bad?

The darker thoughts you’d kept at bay began to come back; you were worthless, you were ugly, you were undeserving. Why wouldn’t they stop? Why was your stomach churning and your hand shaking? Before you knew it, hints of tears began to prick at your eyes.

No.

You weren’t going to give her the satisfaction of seeing you this way. But you were no longer interested in staying, any sense of hunger leaving you for sick dread.

Next thing you knew, you had said an early goodbye and put your things in the car, headed back home. Maybe driving wasn’t the best idea, since now you were alone with your thoughts. But crying wasn’t worth it. It was a bad idea, especially since now was the time to focus on the road ahead.

You couldn’t have gotten home sooner, a sense of relief washing over you once you pulled into the driveway. You unlocked your front door, pulling your bags in behind you. You heard movement coming from the kitchen as you set everything down; the sound of the faucet turning off signaling to you that Katsuki had heard you come in.

Heaving a sigh, you tried to chase the negative thoughts from your head. They shouldn’t be there, and it wasn’t something to dwell on. You were home again, and you wouldn’t have to deal with your family for another few months at least.

Bakugou’s head peeked out from around the doorframe, double checking that it was you who had walked in. “What are you doing here?” he called, ducking back to whatever he’d been doing in the kitchen.

“Hello to you too.” You tried to keep the tartness out of your voice, but some of it must have crept back in. The sounds from the other room stopped again, and the house went eerily quiet. Huffing, you dragged your luggage into your shared bedroom.

You felt drained, that was the only way to describe it. You couldn’t even bring yourself to hang your clothes in the closet. Giving up, you laid down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. You couldn’t help but hear your cousin’s words ringing over and over in your head, reminding you of the countless years of both internal and external torment you’d gone through regarding your weight.

The sound of footsteps in the doorway made you glance down, registering a spiky blond head of hair approaching you on the bed. You said nothing as the mattress dipped next to you, indicating that Bakugou had come up on your side.

The two of you were silent together for a long moment, and a stolen glance told you that Katsuki was mirroring you with his head resting on his arms as he stared at the blank ceiling.

“Are you going to tell me what’s got you in this mood?” he finally asked.

You sighed. “My cousin can just be a pain sometimes.”

“She the one you were telling me about or is it someone else?”

“Same girl.”

“Hmm.” Bakugou continued to keep his eyes trained solely up above. “What did she do this time?”

“Called me fat.” You tried to keep your voice even. You were simply stating a fact. It shouldn’t bother you like this, right? Even so, the tears you’d been forcing back once again rushed to your eyes, causing your tone to pitch. You swallowed them down again, blinking rapidly. This wasn’t something to spend time crying over.

“Don’t let it get to you,” Katsuki said, a little unhelpfully. “I don’t want to see you hating yourself.”

You frowned at this. “I don’t hate myself,” you said, thinking about your words for a moment before you spoke them. “I don’t hate my body. It’s just that . . . sometimes I wish it looked a little better, a little different. Sometimes I don’t feel like I’m enough as I am.”

“Don’t tell me you think you’d be happier looking like everyone else.” Bakugou’s gaze had shifted from a blank one to a glare.

“I don’t know,” you said, shrugging. “It’s just . . . hard sometimes. Being like this.”

Finally Bakugou rolled to face you, taking one of your hands in his. “I know you . . . struggle with your self-image or whatever, but you can’t let it take over your life, got it? You can’t just waste it worrying about what everyone thinks of you. You’re never going to be able to please everyone, but if they’ve got a problem with you, then they can go fuck themselves. You want to know the one person’s opinion who matters most? Yours. You have to be the one who’s taking care of yourself.” Katsuki paused for a moment, absentmindedly fiddling with your fingers as he considered his words.

“You want to know who’s opinion is the second most important?” he continued, his voice starting to get a little more mumbly. “Mine. I picked you because I love you. I love everything about you, from your shitty, annoying personality to your gorgeous body. You are so much more than just ‘enough’ for me, so don’t go worrying about that. You’re everything to me, and you know that, right? I love you no matter what, so don’t let this ruin your whole day.” He kissed your knuckles, signaling that he had said his peace.

You smiled at him, a tear or two finally sneaking past your defenses. “How—how do you do that?”

“What?”

“Sometimes you say something horribly stupid and I swear I hate you, and then next thing I know, you’re telling me everything I need to hear.”

“Tch, I can be eloquent whenever I want. It’s a choice.”

“Alright.” You rolled over so you could properly face him. “Can I have a hug?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, but nevertheless held open his arms. You happily snuggled into the hard, built muscle enveloping you, offering a beautiful contrast to your own soft body.

“Do you need me to talk to your cousin?” Bakugou asked. “I’ll do it.”

“Nah, let her go.” You nuzzled your nose into his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

______________

Kirishima:

You honestly expected your family to last longer when it came to keeping from upsetting you. Nevertheless, maybe you were being a little too optimistic. But come on, did they have to ruin everything the literal second you walked through the door?

Even after the scathing comment, followed by a half-hearted, hasty brushing off, you forced yourself to spend time with them. It wasn’t often that you got to see this half of your family, so you decided to ignore it with the rest of them.

But as you sat on the couch sipping tea, you were unable to focus on the light conversation buzzing around you. The event that happened mere minutes before played over again in your mind, causing you to wince.

You’d walked into the house, prepared to greet everyone and have a nice time, when your aunt looked up from her position on her arm chair. “Hello, (Y/N),” she’d begun. “Ah, look, you’re still fat.”

Your heart had almost literally stopped beating in your chest as you froze in the threshold. Had she just said what you thought you heard? You must have been mistaken, right?

Any positive anticipation you’d had of seeing your relatives had plummeted to your feet, and you strongly considered turning around in place and leaving without another word.

But you couldn’t do that, of course not. Then your aunt had begun to babble something about how it made you look cute like a baby, but her words had already done their damage.

You tolerated the rest of your afternoon with them, but it was a great relief to you when you were finally able to leave and go home. As soon as you pulled into your driveway, you exhaled a sigh of relief. It was over with, and it hadn’t been that bad.

Eijirou wasn’t home, but you knew he wouldn’t be long after you. You went about making dinner, knowing he’d appreciate it once he got home. He was always so tired these days.

Even so, as you stirred broth in a pot, your aunt’s words rang in your head. You vaguely remembered telling her about your weight loss a month ago. You figured you’d been making considerable progress, and you knew that no one was more proud of you than Eijirou himself. But had it really made a difference?

After a moment of fretting, you turned off the stove. You walked into your shared bedroom, flicking on the light. Your eyes caught sight of your reflection in the mirror. You frowned, going up to it. Turning your body this way and that, you tried to see if you recognized a change in your appearance. You lifted your shirt, only to wince at yourself and tug it back down. You pinched at your arms, your thighs, and your cheeks, growing almost angry at the way your fingers sunk into the flesh.

Maybe you hadn’t been making as much progress as you’d thought. Or the progress you had made wasn’t enough. Without you even realizing it, your mind began to toy with ways to speed things up. Guiltily, you found yourself wondering if Eijirou would notice if you just skipped dinner that night.

You shook your head to clear away the intrusive idea. No, that wouldn’t solve anything. Eijirou had told you that he’d help you lose weight the right way, so you’d stay healthy and be able to keep it off. It would be best to listen to him.

Still, you found your eyes glued to your reflection. You wouldn’t consider yourself vain, but there was something in the way that your eyes traced over your curves, wondering just how they might look on you if only you were a little smaller . . . .

Movement behind you in the mirror caught your eye, and you were quick to recognize a head of spiky red hair. You must not have heard Kirishima come in through the front door.

“Hello,” you said with less cheer than usual.

“Hey, babe,” he greeted you, coming up from behind to give you a hug.

You leaned back into his chest as you both stared at each other’s reflections.

“Checking out my perfect girlfriend?” he teased, referring to how your eyes continued to trace down your body. “That’s my job, you know.”

You snorted, gently rubbing at his forearm.

“So how was your family?”

“Okay,” you shrugged.

“I saw you left something on the stove. Are you doing okay?”

Oh, Kirishima. How did he do it?

You shrugged. “I guess I didn’t really have a good time there. Got a little upset is all.”

Eijirou frowned. “What happened?”

You took one of his hands in yours and began to play with his fingers, now determined to keep your eyes from catching another glimpse of yourself. “My aunt told me I was fat.”

You missed the flash of genuine anger that shot through Kirishima’s eyes. He knew this was something you’d struggled with for a long time. Your aunt had no business making comments like that about your body, especially now.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, deciding to keep himself calm for your sake.

You continued to fiddle with his large hands. “I just worry sometimes that I’m not doing enough,” you mumbled. “What if it doesn’t work? What if I’m just meant to look like this?” You sniffled, hating the sudden tears that were beginning to fill your eyes.

“Honey . . .” Eijirou spun you around and held you to his chest, running a hand down the back of your head as you finally let the tears slide down your face. You nuzzled into his shirt, appreciating the warm, familiar feeling of it. “Even if you weren’t able to lose more weight, you know I’d still love you, right?” he said in a tender voice. “I’d think you’re beautiful either way.”

He tilted your chin up so he could look into your eyes, giving you one of the most loving gazes you’d ever seen. “And besides, we’re not together because of how you look. I love you for you. I love your personality, and how you always say and do the cutest things.” He bent down for a quick kiss, caressing your cheek as he pulled away. “I love your laugh, and I love looking into your beautiful eyes . . . .” He kissed you again, beginning to gently guide your bodies to the bed at the other wall.

Eijirou laid you down in the center of the mattress, hovering over you as he went in for another kiss. “I love your body too. This body, just the way it is. I love how it feels to hold you at night—” he kissed your neck. “—I love your chest, your butt, your arms, your thighs—” he nuzzled his nose against your face and neck. “—your cute tummy.” He pushed himself up and gazed down at it with such a genuine expression of love, you almost started tearing up again. “The cutest tummy in the world. And I love it because it’s yours.”

With that, he bent down again and lifted up your shirt just enough to give it a little kiss. You couldn’t help but let a giggle slip from your lips, which only made his ruby red eyes dart up to meet yours mischievously.

“You like that? What if I did it . . . again!” He placed a second kiss in a different spot, going for another and then another. You broke out into laughter, the sensation of his lips and nose brushing over your sensitive skin making you squirm in his hold.

Soon, he was laughing himself. He nuzzled into your skin one last time and blew a raspberry against your skin.

“Eiji—!” you began to protest through a laugh.

“What?” He smirked at you, moving up and settling his chin in the valley of your chest.

You smiled right back at him, bringing up your hand to brush the backs of your fingers against his cheek. “I love you.”

Kirishima took hold of your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the backs of your knuckles as he looked into your eyes. “I love you too, baby.” He held your hand in his, getting lost for a moment simply looking at your face.

Eventually he sat up, laying down next to you and pulling you into his chest. “I’m proud of you too,” he told you, tucking your head under his chin. “I know you’re actively making a change for the better, and you’re doing really well. Results won’t happen immediately, you just have to stick with it sometimes.”

You sighed through your nose, taking his hand in yours again. “I know. I just get discouraged sometimes is all.”

“And I’ll just be here to put you back on track. You’ve got this, you know.” He hugged you tight against him, rubbing your back. “Are you hungry?” he finally asked. “I’ll help you make dinner.”

“Sure,” you said, chuckling lightly.

“What? We both have to eat, and you know me. I’m a hungry shark.”

You laughed again, leaning up to kiss his jaw.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“Yeah, a bit.”

“Well, there’s always more where that came from.” He kissed your forehead. “I’m here for you, okay?”

______________

Kaminari:

If there was one thing Denki hated more than anything, it was seeing you upset.

He could tell something was off the moment you came through the front door. You were too quiet, and that bothered him. When you finally made it up to your shared room, Kaminari was already watching the doorway for you.

He noticed immediately that your eyes were puffy and a little red. Even your posture looked defeated and slumped over.

“Hey, Denks,” you said once you noticed him stretched out on the bed. His heart broke even further when he saw you try for a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?” Kaminari got up, clearing the space between you so he could put his hands on your shoulders.

“I—I just,” you began to stammer out, feeling the flimsy dam you’d placed behind your eyes begin to falter. “I . . . don’t know if I want to talk about it right now.” You covered your burning face with your palms. “It’s stupid anyway. I shouldn’t let things like that get to me.”

Kaminari frowned, trying to figure out what might have made you so upset. But he wasn’t one to pry when it came to situations like these, and he knew you’d tell him on your own time.

Even so, he led you to where he’d once taken position on the bed, pulling you up with him. He knew that sometimes you simply wanted to be distracted from things, so he decided to do just that. Allowing you to settle in next to him, he picked his controller up from the covers again where he’d set it down.

You noticed he’d been playing Minecraft. You let yourself take a mild interest in his mining session that you caught him in the middle of. You watched him wander through a cave system; placing torches, killing the occasional zombie, and mining out various ores he happened upon.

What you didn’t see was how often he shot you glances, studying your face for any signs of you getting upset again. He saw when you finally took your eyes off his screen, frowning distantly as you twisted the material of the blanket underneath you.

Before he could ask you again what was going on, you opened your mouth to speak. “Do you think this outfit is too much?”

Denki faltered, confused. “No? What do you mean by that? I think you look really pretty.”

You pursed your lips. Clearly that wasn’t the answer you’d wanted. “I just—I don’t know.” You frowned and went back to avoiding his eyes.

“Are you going to tell me what happened today?” Denki asked. A sudden idea struck him. Before you could answer him again, he stood up on the bed and walked over to a shelf you kept just above it. He pulled down a large stuffed Pikachu he’d gotten you a few years ago, and went back to sitting next to you. “Would it be easier to tell him?”

Denki positioned the toy in his lap, grabbing hold of its little arms and letting it go through various motions, starting with a little wave at you.

You couldn’t help but snort at Kaminari’s antics, looking from the plushie to the curious but concerned expression on your boyfriend’s face.

“Your Pikachus are worried about you.” Denki lifted it up higher on his chest, continuing to fidget and wave the arms back and forth in a little dance. “You saw your family today, right? How did that go?”

Your face fell again and you shrugged. “It went well I guess. My grandma just said something dumb and it made me upset.”

Denki frowned, lifting the arms of the Pikachu so its hands were on its pink cheeks. “What did she say?”

You shrugged again. “I was messing around with my cousins and I said I looked like a snacc. And then she said that snacks were probably what made me so fat in the first place.”

Denki’s frown deepened. “That’s not very nice.”

“I don’t think she knew what I was talking about, to be fair. And maybe it’s a little funny. I mean, she’s not wrong.” You rested your chin in your hands, sighing. “It just caught me off guard. It’s a dumb thing to be upset over, like I said—”

“Hey.” Denki met your eyes. “It’s not dumb. You have every right to be upset.” He held his arms open to you. “Come here.”

You sat up, letting him embrace you.

“Do you need me to remind you how beautiful you are and how much I love you?” he asked from next to your ear. “Because I’ll do it.”

He took your shy smile as a yes, letting you settle back as he proceeded to lift up the stuffed yellow toy.

“Are you hearing this, bro?” he addressed it, throwing a serious look on his face. “The most gorgeous person on the planet is sad. We have to do something about it.”

Denki put the Pikachu’s paw on its chin, tapping it for a second before removing it again. “What’s that?” he asked it. “You have an idea?”

He lifted the toy to his ear, pretending to listen to it for a moment as he nodded along. Once he was satisfied, Denki scooched himself even closer to you. He brought Pikachu’s nose up to your cheek and made a kiss sound with his lips. Setting the toy down beside you on the bed, he motioned for you to come sit in his lap.

You obeyed, settling yourself in between his thighs and wrapping your legs around his hips.

“There you go,” he muttered, slotting his nose beside yours as he touched foreheads with you. “I love you and you’re the most important person in my life. You know that, right?” He waited for you to nod before continuing. “And I know that you can feel a little insecure sometimes with how you look. You’ve got bad days, and you have good days. It’s my job to be there for you on these bad days, and you can be there for me when I have mine. I want you to know that you’re so beautiful and I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

He connected your lips to his for a long moment, trying to convey all his feelings for you into it. “And don’t let anyone make you feel like you’re less-than. They’re not the kind of person you should be listening to. Trust me when I say that you’re perfect just being you.” Denki wiped a tear trail off your cheek with his thumb, leaning in to kiss the skin there.

“Thanks, Denki,” you said, your voice just above a whisper.

He gave you a soft, caring smile; his fingers still lingering on your cheek. “Is there anything you want to do together to make you feel better? We could watch a movie, we could snuggle, whatever you want.”

You leaned in and hugged him tight. “I love you.”

He hugged you back. “I love you too. You’re my sunshine nugget, and it would take a heck of a lot to ever change that.”

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Taglist: @basicaegyo @fourteenow @iiminibattlehero @katsugay @nabo39 @onepieceask @pyrofanatic @sendhelpimstupid @xoxopam4

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muffinrecord · 3 years ago

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Shigure’s MGS Thoughts

I watched Shigure’s Magical Girl Story and I have lots of thoughts

It was translated by the lovely BST who did a fantastic job.

Shigure overall seems really pathetic to me, but in a good-character sort of way. I really like how the negative traits she seems to hate in others (easily tricked, judgmental) are all reflected in herself.

I def want to go back and get some screenshots and do a deep dive on her at some point. auuugh my head is swimming with thoughts right now and it’s hard to put everything together-- in fact, I’m just going to do some quick thoughts to expand on later:

She knew that Kyubey was not to be trusted, but him telling her that she’s special was all that was needed to goad her into it.

I feel like Shigure is, at heart, a good person, but that she’s not very smart and that she’s not very self aware.

Mifuyu’s not evil like Kyubey, and it’s obvious that she helped Shigure, but also she feels so predatory here. eugh. It’s hard to reconcile that she means well and that she did save Shigure’s life, but... I dunno, her behavior feels gross. The best way to describe it would be maybe a Christian adult who helps poorer children and then indoctrinates them into the religion with promises of them being saved. Like yeah, she sincerely means well, she believes in the cause, and she did actually help Shigure, but it all feels tainted and kinda questionable.

This isn’t supposed to be a Mifuyu-hate blog though so I’ll move on.

Touka literally doesn’t give two shits about Shigure or Hagumu, and it’s obvious that when she talks about how magical girls have helped humanity, she’s not really thinking of those two in the same way that they are-- humanity’s success was partially built on the sacrifices of magical girls and not just their strengths. But Hagumu and Shigure don’t seem to put that together.

I love that Nemu actually points out that Touka does not care about them and is answering their questions on a whim, and the two don’t internalize this whatsoever. These girls have self esteem that places them both high and extremely low. They’re pathetic but superior.

Then the way Shigure looks at the popular girls in school. Like she’s got some points that the schoolgirls are talking behind their friend’s back, but Shigure is just as judgmental as they are and it’s clear that she really looks down on them.

I think the story did a good job of threading the needle when Shigure saved one of them from a witch. Shigure wasn’t thinking about recognition when she did it-- she was a genuinely good person at that moment. But afterwards, she makes all these assumptions about how the girl felt-- that she forgot about being saved, that she probably doesn’t care-- and it's like... Shigure. You didn’t even try to talk to her. She woke up in a broken down factory with you and Hagumu being weird over her, but she interpreted all of this in the best light possible and thanked you for saving her. Clearly she must think somewhat well of you to not have interpreted it as something more sinister.

Uhh, also, I really want to know if Shigure and Hagumu know about the truth of witchdom. Because this wasn’t a factor in the MGS whatsoever-- any regrets that Shigure has about being a magical girl do not include turning into a witch.

Her regrets are that no one knows how much “better” she is than the people are around her because she’s a magical girl and they’re not.

Which makes me think:

Shigure does not regret that she is a magical girl.

And this is awesome, because it’s done in a horribly toxic way? Like Madoka doesn’t regret being a magical girl, but it’s because she can help people, right? It’s noble.

Shigure doesn’t regret being a magical girl because it means she’s better than everyone else.

See what I mean by calling her pathetic? I like her as a character, but I think I would not like her if I met her IRL.

anyways I’m sure I’ll have more/different thoughts later, this is just what I was thinking when watching it.

#Shigure Miyabi

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angelisverba · 5 years ago

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closer

in which y/n wants to be closer to her savior, mafialeader!h, and harry has never felt such intimacy

word count: 5.7k

pairing: y/n and mafialeader!h

warnings: descriptions of an abusive relationship, mentions of abuse, drugs, violence, and sex.

author’s note: you can all thank @floral-suits for this. (and yes, I did describe tattoo roulette harry :))

Y/n wasn’t exactly a virgin when she first met Harry, but she also hadn’t been exposed to the extreme pleasures a woman could experience at the hands of a man who cared. Cared enough to devote attention to the needs and wants of her body rather than just using her for his own pleasure.

Harry more or less rescued her from a toxic relationship for a lower-scale drug dealer (who was working for Harry at the time) and who never told her what he did for a living. Their entire relationship was built off of lies, and and power. Maxwell-- that was the scumbag’s name-- would always use strength to get his way, and it was getting to the point where he would use his physical advantage in the bedroom. Y/n was in a position where she was physically and mentally weak, and Harry caught note of that when he met her for the first time.

“This is my girlfriend, boss,” Maxwell had gripped her bicep and squeezed painfully as he shoved her forward to a confused Harry. He wasn’t quite sure why Maxwell was handling a woman in such aggressive ways, and why she looked so...scared.

He’d caught a whiff of what was going on the moment she flinched at the word ‘girlfriend’ and played as smoothly as possible to not make the situation worse for her once he left. But he knew when they made eye contact, and her eyes were slightly glazed over in fear, that she was calling out for help. “Lovely to meet you, what’s your name?” He said, voice notably softer than what he usually spoke.

The girl opened her mouth to speak, but Maxwell said, “Her name’s y/n. And she can leave now so she’s not bothering us.”

An uncharacteristic flicker of protectiveness flamed inside of him, and his face turned a stone-y reserve. “Tony. Paul.” The two men standing in the back of their small living room apartment stepped forward with arms crossed. They were easily three times y/n’s weight, with biceps the size of her head to vouch for it. “Take Maxwell outside and keep him out there until I call for him.”

Y/n didn’t have it in her to straighten or worry about what would happen to her then-boyfriend or where they would take her, but he did. Maxwell gulped and furrowed his eyebrows, a ‘what the fuck?’ expression taking over his face. What he didn’t have in him, though, was the ability to fight back against the all-mighty Harry Styles. He was only left to wonder what the kingpin could want with his girlfriend. Something that not even he knew clearly, only that there was something very, very wrong going on between his employee and this girl, and he couldn't stand the endangerment of women (it was one of the reasons why be spent millions of dollars buying sex-trafficked women whenever he could, and sending them to all-expenses paid facility for they would be checked and rehabilitated if they needed it.)

“Now, love,” he started, voice tender and body language comforting. He’d retreated to their loveseat, patting the seat next to him with a warm smile on his face, two dimples showing. He knew that was what she needed. A friendly, comforting face. He knew because he was sued to reading people to get what he wanted, or to catch them off-guard and do a large number on them. “What’s your name?”

Timidly, y/n walked over to his side and sat, a shaky breath leaving her before she mumbled, “Y/n.”

“What was that? You said?” Harry wanted so badly to reach out and caress her shoulder, but he knew it was better if she opened up on her own terms. The girl was cowering from him and he hadn’t done anything to her. It seemed as if she’d grown a fear for all men. Not just Maxwell.

“Y/n, yes. I’m sorry for mumbling. Maxwell says I shouldn't mumble...I’m sorry.” She plays with her fingers in her lap, the cuticle of her right thumb an angry red color on the verge of bleeding.

“It’s alright. Maxwell isn’t here right now, so you can do what you’d like.” Harry stated, chin in his palm as he observed her. She was (is) really pretty, with pouty lips and lashes that were wet with stressed-out tears. Distressed, but breathtakingly beautiful.

“But Maxwell will-” she stopped then, sure that what followed isn’t exactly something you tell your boyfriend's boss. Too much detail.

“Go on, you can finish your sentence.” He brought his hands down away from his mouth to clasp them at his lap, and that’s when she looked up to fully look at him.

His hair was shoulder length at the time, thick and rogue chocolate curls that framed his face and made him look even more so manly if that was even possible. It swirled at the top of his head, and fell to the right in fluffy swoops. He’d been wearing fitting, black slacks and a baby blue shirt what was open all the way to the start of his strong abdominal muscles, where y/n could see the tips of butterfly wings peeking out. Two swallows decorated the area underneath his collarbones, a silver cross necklace swinging gently between his pectoral muscles. Y/n remembers thinking-- even though her broken train of thought- that the blank ink looked so good against his tanned skin.

“No, uhm, I’m not sure I should.” Her eyes dropped from him to the armrest, where a black suit jacket rested. It was Harry’s. “Maxwell wouldn’t like it.

“Do you always listen to what Maxwell says?” Harry questioned, his word choice careful. He never had to speak to any of the women he rescued, so these were uncharted waters for him. He figured he better be very light on the accusations if he didn’t want her to get defensive.

“Y-yes, he’s my boyfriend. Actually, do you think you could bring him back into the room? I’m not sure he’ll like me being alone with you more than needed.” He’ll call me so many nasty names once you leave.

“Is that what you want y/n?”

“I-” She hadn’t been asked what she would like in so long, her opinion bypassed and unimportant. The fact that this man in close relation to her boyfriend hadn’t also belittled her like his other friends had was...well, it was enough to make her start crying.

She didn’t know what she wanted. She didn’t know what there could be to want. What there was past Maxwell, or what there would be with Maxwell. It was all a mess in her brain that hadn’t been used in so long. ‘Don’t wear that it makes you look ugly’ ‘She’ll have water’ ‘Doctor could she have the shot instead of pills?’

Harry knew his suspicions were correct when the first tear slipped past her eyelashes to taint her cheek. Only, he wasn’t sure where to go from there. He wasn’t sure if to touch her, or to give her space. He was fucking lost.

So he got up, went to their kitchen and reached for a glass that was in the drying rack. The soles of his boots hitting the wooden floor of Maxwell’s kitchen was the only thing heard along with y/n’s sniffles. Pressing the glass into the slot for water in the fridge, he cursed under his breath. What the fuck is he supposed to do?

He was out of time when he sat next to her and offered her the glass like an idiot saying, “I don’t want you to get dehydrated, love. Have some water and take a few deep breaths, alright? I wont hurt you.”

And he hadn’t. Harry was true to his word all through their relationship. Never once did he lay a hand on her when she didn’t want it, or harm her emotionally, mentally. Not from a negative mindset.

Y/n told him everything. To a certain extent. It was as if a corkscrew had been twisted into the bottle of her emotions and unplugged open with his intimate questions.

“Be honest with me y/n, does he hurt you?”

“Does he insult you?”

“Does he hit you?”

“Do you want to be here, right now, with him?”

“If you’re honest with me, if you really want it, I can take you away. I can help you build a new life, away from him. He won’t hurt you anymore.” Harry was holding her hands in his at this point, knees pointed towards her and shoulder slumped as he tried to get close to her. He could see he was doing good, she was holding eye contact for more than a second now.

“You can do that?” Her eyes widened, and her heart caught in her throat when he started to rub small, soothing circles into the juncture of her thumb and pointer finger.

Harry nodded, licking his lips,“of course I can. All you have to do is say the word. You can leave today. Right now. This instant. You just have to say it.”

“Okay.” She whispered, biting into her bottom from the nerves. Was she really going to leave Maxwell? Right now? With this man she’s never met? And although her gut and his words are telling her she can trust him, he could be anyone. He could do all sorts of things to her, but he looks, sounded, and felt sincere.

Anything was better than the prison that was Maxwell.

“Okay what, y/n?” Harry needed to know that she was fully on board. Verbal confirmation.

“I want to leave Maxwell. Today. Right now.” She was breathless when the words left her. And Harry was nodding with a proud smile on his face.

He barely knew this girl, but he could feel the way his heart was chipping away by her hands, plunging the pieces into her chest and taking out a matching piece of her own heart to fill the empty spot.

“Okay. If there’s anything you’d like to take with you before we leave you should take them with you now.” Harry stood, and grabbed the suit jacket on the couch next to him, lifting his arm in the air to put it on.

“No, there’s nothing I’d like to take. Maxwell picked everything. I don’t want it.” She shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself, preparing for what’s to come.

“Would you like to say anything to him or would you like me to do the talking?” He was still adjusting the suit, popping the collar and lifting his shoulders so everything settled nicely. He ran a hand through his hair, and shook it out. It was cute, y/n thought.

“No. I don’t want to speak to him. I’ve got nothing to say to him.” She shrugged.

“Very well. Let’s go.” He started walking towards the door, and when he sensed that something was wrong he turned to see that she was still seated on the couch, her lower lip trembling in a way that had become so familiar to him in the few moments they’d known each other. She was scared. “There’s no need to worry, love, my men will assure that he doesn’t lay a hand on you. I’ll be right by your side the whole time.” He sent her a comforting smile, and stretched out his hand for support, hoping that she’d grab onto it.

She did.

They walked out together, not even bothering to close the door behind them. Out in the slim hallway, Tony and Paul had Maxwell up against the wall, one standing on either side of him. When he saw that y/n and Harry were holding hands, he stood up in a frenzy, and Harry lifted a hand as a signal for him to still his motions.

He did.

“Maxwell, I’m not sorry to inform you that I will no longer be requiring your services. Tony will come by at the end of the month to pick up all the money owed as well as what you still have to dispense.” Maxwell opened his mouth to protest, and Harry raised his hand again, voice rising momentarily to speak over whatever it was he was going to say. “In addition, you’re a piece of shit. You don’t deserve a woman like y/n. Never seek her out again, or there will be consequences. Understood?”

Harry didn’t wait for a response, and Maxwell didn’t give one because his throat had gone dry. You don’t fuck with Harry Edward Styles.

“Paul, please ensure that Maxwell makes it into his apartment and doesn’t try to follow us. Tony, you come with us.”

“You got it, Harry.” Paul spoke, clapping a hand on Maxwell’s shoulder and shoving him into the apartment.

Harry, still holding her hand, y/n, still holding his hand, and Tony, knowing very well what would come out of this, walked out of the shitty apartment complex and into a blacked-out car. Inside, y/n questioned Harry a bit more about where she would go, if he would leave her, and how he could be so sure that Maxwell would stay away. It hadn’t clicked in her brain yet what her ex-boyfriend’s job was because she’d been so caught up in getting through that moment. If she had been paying attention, she’s sure she would have blushed at Harry coming to her defense.

Harry assured her that she was safe, and told her why.

“I am a drug dealer, sweetheart. The biggest one here in London. People know not to fuck with me. As long as you’re under my care, you’re safe as can be. And I told you in there that I would take care of you. I’m a man of my word.” He turned to face her, “You’ll be safe. I promise you that.”

From there, Harry took her to his house-- the kind with gates and men with ear pieces-- and told her to make herself at home. He had a few things to attend to before they could go a step further in their plan.

Strangely, the news of him being a drug dealer didn’t affect her as much as it should’ve a normal person.

The first thing she did was eat. She was starving, and Harry just so happened to have the best cooks in his home. Plate upon plate upon plate. She ate until she plopped down on his couch, fell asleep, and woke up to him taking her up to a guest room.

She nodded off again in his arms, and he’d pressed a sweet kiss on her forehead when he set her down.

After buying her clothes-- really fucking expensive ones-- Harry sat her down to talk to her about a rehabilitation center. One up in the mountains in Switzerland, where she’d be at peace with the company of sheep and silence. There were therapists on the site, ones she’d meet with everyday to talk through her trauma.

And the cold would encourage the bodily need to stay warm. To huddle close...together. The both of them.

And y/n agreed. With one condition.

“Would you be able to take me there?” She had asked meekly, fiddling with the threads of her brand new, 5,000 euro sweater.

“Of course. I’ll walk you through those doors myself and see that you’re comfortable if that’s what you’d like.” He laughed at the end of his sentence, pulling her hands away from the sweater and engulfing them in his large one. Y/n started at their union, and noticed he had a cross tattoo on his hand.

She thought this was funny, and laughed once through her nose. Tilting her head upwards so she might remark on it, she was frozen in the spot at the intense gaze that met her.

Vibrant, emerald green eyes saw her. They saw her. As a person. As a soul. As a woman. There was repressed hunger in them, and the added longing sprinkled static into their moment; intensity levels so high, y/n could only breathe out, “I’d like that.”

She’d like so many other things but she wasn’t sure the time was right.

* *

“Harry! It’s beautiful up here!” She was giggly with happiness.

Y/n hadn’t giggled in so long. She hadn’t been this happy so long.

On their plane ride to Switzerland, y/n had been too anxious to sleep, and Harry was more than willing to stay over and have a conversation with her.

He found that she was even more enchanting that he thought, telling innocent, forgiving stories of going to the petting zoo on a rainy day or how her friends broke her nose because they smashed it into a still-frozen ice-cream birthday cake. He found that he loved the way she’d blush when he brushed a hair away from her face. He found that he loved the way she would lean into his touch.

Y/n found that she really wanted Harry to kiss her. That she loved the way he spoke, in a slow, deep drawl like he was hand picking every word that came out of his mouth the moment before he had to speak. That she loved the way he looked at her, like she was important and interesting. That she loved when he would brush away a strand of hair from her face, or the warmth of his thigh pressed against hers.

Through a mix of knowingly and unknowingly, she let her walls down. She let him in, and she wanted him to want to be let in. It was absolutely crazy, the way she felt about him considering what she just escaped. Her brain was full of images that hadn’t been there in forever, illicit and heavy with him.

“Right? ‘M jealous of you. Wish I could stay up here, too.” He wished he could stay up here with her. With her company, getting to know her mind, body, and soul. He yearned for her and it’d been less than two weeks.

“That’s not a bad idea,” y/n mumbled to herself. She was a few steps ahead of Harry, standing at the front of the car and looking out into the place where the sheep roamed while he shut the door behind him.

“Come on, let’s go inside and get you settled.”

A woman greeted them at the door of the home-- although it was just shy of a mansion label-- that was a wood and brick mixture in structure. Several chimneys poked out of the roof, with smoke coming out of all of them.

The woman’s name was Matilda, she was a groundskeeper and had moved there shortly after her husband died when she was 40. She took Harry and y/n up to her room that faced the center of an indoor greenhouse in the middle of the house, and left them there for her to unpack after Harry said that he’d show y/n around himself.

He owned it after all, and had overseen it’s construction. He’d even helped with the births of some of the sheep.

“How long will I be staying here?” she asked him, looking over her shoulder as she placed a hanger in the closet.

“‘S long as you need, love.” He was taking things out of her suitcase, placing them on the bed for her to relocate. “Days, weeks, months, years. ‘S long as you need.”

“Really?” She squeaked, returning to the edge of the bed and picking up the neck item. A cream colored silk shirt that had a black ribbon around the neck.

“Mhm.” Harry picked up a blush tinted pair of trousers.

“And where will you be?”

Harry’s heart dropped to his stomach. It hadn’t occurred to him that she may rely on him for comfort, and it made him feel strangely warm inside when her tone of voice changed to an uninterested interest.

After his short, stunned silence, she mumbled again, “will you stay? At least for a few days?”

Harry cleared his throat. He was sure that if any of his men were to see him then, he’d lose all sense of authority, “Sure. I’d love to.” He was suddenly unsure of everything he used to be sure about. His reign, his title. It all left him when he was with her.

She whispered, “Thank you, Harry. For everything.” Y/n was clutching a shirt to her chest, eyes welling up with tears of gratuity.

At this, Harry felt his heart clench in his chest, stealing his breath at the sight of her. “C’mere, love.” His arms stretched out for an embrace, and she immediately ran into them. His arms stretched out for an embrace, and she immediately ran into them.

Eyes shut, she pressed into the juncture of his throat, and held her breath, tensing at the strong, male contact, she could feel ever flex of his arms as she wrapped them around her frame, ever rise and fall of his chest, and the fleeting brush of their thighs.

He ducked his head down to his mouth was pressed against the crown of her head and whispered, “y’don’t have to be scared anymore, y/n. You’re safe. I’ll never hurt you.”

She moved her head so she was looking up at him, and suddenly became aware of how close they were, the tips of their nose a hair away from each other. “I know. I know.” She tried to tell him. Tried to tell him with her eyes, looking down at his lips and then to his burning eyes. Kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me.

He knew immediately what she wanted, could see it in the gleam of her eyes. “S’this okay, love. Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m okay. More than okay. And it’s because of you. Will you kiss me?” Her eyes were nearly shut with their dreamy haze. She felt happy, content, light, free. Because of him. Because of Harry. And she knew she was in full control here. It wasn’t because she felt she owed him anything. Y/n knew there was a connection between then, she could feel it every time he looked at her.

She knew because she looked at him the same way too.

With no response, Harry moved the final inch to her mouth, and reached the stars. Her lips were softer than they looked as they molded to follow his every movement. Languid and submissive and warm and her. And good God the noises their mouths made together. Quiet, suckling noises with every near-disconnection as they opened up to each other, y/n being the first to flick at his bottom lip with her sweet tongue.

“Baby, we have to stop or this is gonna get really fucking heated,” He murmured against her lips, his words with an intention to stop their actions, but the way her leaned into so they were closer to each other, they way his hands came up to her face to pull her closer to him, they way he didn’t bother to pause their kiss to speak, said otherwise. The front of his pants was embarrassingly tight, and a tension in his groin had begun to build, cock pulsing.

Y/n responded with the same vigor, her hands coming to clutch at the curls that brushed his shoulders before combing through his scalp and grasping the hair at the nape of his neck, “Please. Want it.”

Harry stopped then, opening his eyes and pulling her back to fully look at her face. Her lips were slick with spit and slightly swollen with a darker tint. “Y/n. Are you sure about this?”

Y/n shook her head so fast she could hear the ticking noise of her brain moving in the back of her head. She’d never been more sure of anything in her life. She was ready. She wanted what Harry had already begun to give her. “Yes. Please. Please. Haven’t felt this good in so long, I need it.”

A slow smile spread on Harry’s heart shaped lips, voice low and gravelly. “Pretty girl. Need me to make love to you? Make you feel good? S’what you need?” His thumb traced circled underneath her wild, bleary eyes, and he held back a grunt when she whimpered out her response, need heavy and abundant in her voice.

“Will you say I’m yours, Harry? I’d like to be yours. Will you have me?” She was babbling, lost in her senseless need, but her words held truth. She wanted him, and she wanted him to want her.

Harry cooed at her, his heart full, “I’ll take you, my love. I’ll take you only if you’ll take me.”

“Please.” She didn’t know what she was begging for anymore, all she could feel was the warmth of Harry’s body against hers. “I want you. I’ll take you. Hold me?”

“So polite. C’mere. ‘Gonna take you nice and slow, baby. Like you deserve,” his hands traveled to her waist, and he kept his grip tight as he walked them towards the bed, the back of her knees hitting first before she was lowered gently by Harry. His hold on her was ever-present as he saw her through, his lips placing open mouthed kissed underneath her jaw.

Y/n tilted her head back to grant him access to her throat, and soft, wet gasps left her mouth at the spikes of energy that went from his mouth, to her skin, and down to her pussy. Electrifying. Deadly.

“Gonna take this off, my love.” Harry’s hands tugged at the ends of her light blouse, and y/n nodded instantly, raising her hands above her head to help him get it off. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and the moment her breasts were exposed and Harry’s eyes fell on them, she bucked upwards, needing his touch, needing her damn pants off. “Easy, baby. I’ve got you, okay? Hey, look at me.”

Harry pinched her chin and shook her slightly to get her to open her eyes and look at him. She did, eyes wide and wild. “Need you to use your words in the bedroom, y/n. I want you on board with what I’m doing the entire time and I need to hear your voice in order to know that you’re with me. Got it?”

“Yes. I’m sorry.” He was still holding onto her chin, and her lips were slightly puckered as she spoke.

Harry shook his head, an awed smile on his cherry lips, “nuh-uh. None of that. You did nothing wrong. No more ‘I’m sorry’s. We’re here to love on each other, not to say sorry. We’ve done nothing wrong to each other. Now tell me something you’d like for me to do.”

“Need my pants off, please.” She mewled and bucked again, eyes shutting and head thrown back.

“So fuckin’ polite. A little gem you are.” Harry said to himself as he unbuttoned her pants, and patted her thigh so she could lift her hips.

He couldn't believe that someone had let her slip from his fingers. She was a goddamn wonder.

After he’d tugged her pants off her ankles, he leaned back into kiss her, hands on either side of her face and head with his hair trailing down on the side of his face, but she pushed him back with a pout on her lips. “Take your clothes off, too.”

Harry laughed, “so demanding.” And leaned back on his knees to take his shirt off, unbuttoning the last three buttons of his soft cream shirt so his silver cross necklace came free, swinging at his chest with the momentum.

Y/n marveled at the tattoos that decorated him, wondering if he could get any sexier than this, and upon seeing him unbutton his pants. She decided that yes, he could.

A thick bulge at the apex of his thigh strained against his black boxers, begging to spring up against his abdomen.

“You can say no, right now, and we’ll stop.” Harry murmured, rubbing a hand up her thigh and thumbing at the seams of her cotton panties. His voice was strained and filled with the same urgency that fueled her.

She shook her head, “no. I want this.” Y/n thrust her hips up against his hands, and Harry took that as a signal to take her panties off.

“Good.” He said, ripping away at her panties and surging forward for a heavy kiss, “‘cause I do, too, baby.”

“Make love to me, Harry,” she begged, her hands coming to feel at the strong muscles of his back, digging into where they dipped and this caused him to groan both at the feeling and at her words.

Swiftly, he took of his boxers, and his cock sprang free, an audible slapping sound heard when the swollen tip hit the skin underneath his belly button, and a hiss leaving him at the sudden, momentarily relief.

She looked down between them, and bucked again at the size and thickness of him, already yearning for the feeling of him inside her, stretching her. Her warm, slick, hole caught the tip of his cock, and she moaned at the contact. “Please. Please.”

Cursing under his breath, Harry took hold of himself and pressed into her, a slow heat beginning to encompass him and the intense pleasure coaxing him to continue, but a pained whimper stilling his movements.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” He panted, searching y/n’s eyes for meaning. She shook her head, her hands coming up to brush his hair back.

“Want you closer to me,” She whimpered, eyes watery. Her pert nipples brushed against Harry’s dewy chest, her hands traveled down his back again.

“Closer, baby? Want me to hold you? Is that it?” His brows furrowed, and he let go of his dick so he could rub at her sides.

She nodded, “Yes, please.”

She arched again, enough so Harry could sneak his arm around her back and hold her snug against his check, his silver necklace biting into their skin as it was squashed between them. His other arm was above her head, holding himself up so his weight wouldn’t smother her.

Her legs came to sneak around his waist, and the movement titled her hips up the remaining inches of Harry’s dick, filling and stretching her to the brim. Moaning and bucking up as best she could, her nails dug into his back, urgently. Ardently

“Fuck me. So good, baby. You’re so good.” Harry pulled his hips back and thrusted, the both of them panting at the sensation of being warm, and tight, and full, and fucking hell love.

“More. Harry more, please.” Her words were hot at his ear, and her head fell back against the pillow when he listened, thrusting again and again and again into her. His fingers dug into her back, and scrunched the fabric of the sheets, veins seeping through his skin from the strain.

“Keep squeezing me like that and I won’t last, my love. Need this to last,” The space between their chests grew damp, and y/n was in a frenzy as her orgasm built in her tummy. The pressure rising to a bubbly froth at the brim, one soda-can shake away from an explosion.

“I can’t. Can’t. Y-you feel so good,” She swallowed a thick gulp, and let out a strained moan, the feeling of being unable to close so painfully euphoric. Harry was hitting all the right places and all the right times. And it felt so good to be warm and held, his arms a constant restraint on her, not letting her go even though a burn was developing on the arm that was holding her up. He wouldn’t let her go. He wouldn’t because she asked him to, and because he wanted to.

Harry hadn’t felt the importance of such an embrace until then. It was affecting him just as much as it was fulfilling her. Every place their skin touched, he felt, ever moan and shudder, he heard. Ever gasp, every whisper. And never had it felt so good to give someone what they wanted before. Even if it was just as simple as being held. His heart was going to explode. He was going to die.

“Baby. My love, oh sweetheart you’re amazing. God, I’m gonna cum, my darling. Does it feel as good for you as it feel for me? Hmm? Got me unraveling at the goddamn seams, fuck!”

He dipped his head into her throat and licked her, savagely searching for the taste of her skin as his back curved with the force of his hips.

“I’m there. I’m there, please, lemme, lemme, please-,”

“Let go, my love. I’ve got you.” He kissed her roughly, and held himself snug at her core for longer periods of times every time he thrusted, moving his hips in a circle. He was so close, that y/n could feel his movements on her clit, her sensitive swollen button being stimulated throwing her over the edge, giving her the last little shove that she needed.

She arched into him, mind going blank and mouth going slack against his, no longer kissing back because of the intensity of her pleasure, but Harry continues licking ito her, his tongue sliding against her and teeth nipping at her bottom lip before he snapped back into his senses and pulled out to release hot, white spurts all over his and her abdomen. His face scrunched up into one of seeming pain, his lips mouthing fuck fuck fuck but no sound coming out.

There was no need, but y/n reached down and gripped him, sliding her hand up and down his cock to ride him through his orgasm, milking the remaining cum from his dick so it spurted onto her tits.

“Fuck me. Baby, you’re perfect.” Harry laid her back down and kissed all over her face slowly. On her cheek, her brow bone, her nose, her forehead, and finally her lips. “So sweet, so good. You undid me, darling.”

She was quiet, but leaned up into his touch, her body still buzzing. Y/n was too tired to speak, her eyes heavy with the fatigue that usually came in a light dose after she got herself off. Her entire body felt spent.

“Tired, baby? Time for a little nap?” He brushed her hair off her forehead and kissed her again, a plushy pec tenderly placed.

Y/n nodded, and whined when she felt his weight shifting on the bed.

“What is it?” He said, stopping and turning to look at her.

She breathed a quiet, “stay.”

“M’not going anywhere, y/n. ‘Specially not after this. Gonna go get a washcloth to clean up my mess. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

There was the warmth in her chest, the warmth of his cum drying on her skin, the warmth of the soft towel ridding her of his mess, and the warmth of his arms around her as she fell asleep.

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