#balloon x cloudy

[fruitobject]

i love the bfb zpanizh captionz like look at thiz . rlly zaid cloudy x balloony rightz

*GAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYY*

I agree with whoever made these translations we need a warning in the captions for GAY people I love GAY people!!

everyone must know when the GAY people are onscreen

[cloudymistedskies]

Doodles I did at school…. But they’re drawn on a balloon…

I justw wanna say a classmate INFLATED the balloon and im sad 😭😭😭

[prickly-paprikash]

Whoever you ship Mizu with, it is ultimately gay as fuck.

Mizu and Akemi? That's just two angry wlw's haunted by the image of one another who have been pushed into different but mirroring paths that will one day intertwine, and their anger and regret will balloon into a terrifying clash. Violent? Yes. Passionate? Extremely. Sexual Tension? Nuclear-level.

Mizu and Taigen? Mizu didn't really mind the other acts of sex in Madame Kaji's brothel until she got to the dudes fuckin, and her immediate thought was how close Taigen and his lips were during their tumble in their duel. It's very clear Mizu sees her relationship with Taigen as homoerotic, and has shown some interest in it. That's just trans masc x bottom bi, baby.

Mizu, Taigen and Akemi?

So. Fucking. G A Y.

There ain't no cis-het reading of Blue Eye Samurai, bucko. This shit's the purest crystal queer in the market. It ain't cloudy. It ain't distilled.

This show is raw, uncut Mizumphetamine. Mizu is the chemicals injected into the water that's making the freaking fags frogs gay.

Mizu's the baddest bitch around. Be in awe of this undying fuck's energy. She is 2023's top bitch magnet. She doesn't get bitches. She pins them down, strikes the fear of her in them, and wields a fucking sword made to slaughter the heavens.

[lazybutsmexy]

Bird hunting

Ghost x fem!reader x Soap

Chapter 12: The Nest (Epilogue)

Ch. 11 > Series Masterlist

Warnings: uuuuh none, I think?

Summary: Two weeks later.

Do not read if you're under 18. This work contains mature and triggering themes.

Word count: 1700~

December

Johnny watched his breath condense on the cold glass, blurring his sight of the snowfall. Better that way, he thought, it won’t let me see my own mug. He looked over his shoulder to watch Simon’s back. That strong, muscular back he always looked at in admiration and hope, sat now hunched on a too-small chair, utterly exhausted. Neither of them had gotten any more than a couple hours of sleep in the past two weeks, and it was showing. They were both physically and mentally drained, just getting through every day, one by one. 

He let out a sigh and stepped closer to Simon, carefully resting his hands on his weary shoulders and felt a slight jolt - he had been dozing off. “Try to get some sleep, Simon,” he prodded, knowing it would be a lost cause. 

“...What will I see when I close my eyes, Johnny?” Simon grunted tiredly, barely raising his head to see him in his periphery. Johnny bit his lip and leaned down, pressing his cheek against Simon’s.

“...I don’t know, love.” 

At least, they were together in this. 

~~~~~~

The low chime of the bells accompanied the funeral procession as the casket was carried out of the church. The skies were cloudy, mockingly fitting for such gloomy scenery. Price looked at the crowd of people gathered around the casket and trickling out of the building. It was like looking at a field of black flowers - most of them saluting at the mortal remains of Officer Melanie Kirk as she was carried to the hearse that would drive her to her final resting place. 

Detective Timothy Hartford was standing close to the family, not as her superior, but as her father’s old colleague. He had asked to be put on leave for personal issues, and Price wondered if that was the prelude to his retirement from the police force as well. After all, Timothy had always felt his losses way too close. Another change in careers could be beneficial for him. 

As the funeral procession went on and the crowd dispersed, Hartford found himself looking for his old military friend. As soon as he stepped up to Price, he felt a couple of pats on his shoulder. 

“Already said it before, but you have my condolences,” John hummed, lighting his cigar and handing Hartford the lighter. 

“Appreciated, and thanks for coming,” the detective took a long drag of his cigarette, “how’s your girl doing?”

Price let out a long sigh and shook his head, and his eyes seemed to lose themselves in the horizon. “Still sleeping, I’m afraid.”

“...It’s been a couple of weeks already, no?” the detective questions, arching one of his eyebrows, “how are your boys holding up?”

“Yeah, well,” Price groaned, a sad smile tugging at his lips, “both Ghost and Soap refuse to leave her room. They keep massaging her hands and legs, hoping for her to react to anything.” 

Hartford replicated his friend’s expression, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You must be happy your kids are so tight,” he hummed, before stomping the butt of his cigarette on the ground. Price couldn’t find any reason to deny it, and a pleased smile found its home in his face. 

“I am,” he sighed, before bidding his friend goodbye and walking back to his car, “let’s have a drink sometime this week, alright?”

Hartford waved him goodbye, and walked towards his own car to follow the funeral procession to the cemetery. 

~~~~~~

…It was warm. 

It was warm and dry, and smelled of antiseptic. Definitely not like the forest. 

The beeping was getting annoying. 

She tried to take a deep breath, but her sides hurt. Her lungs felt like two empty balloons. The hand on top of hers was strong, slightly calloused, and very, very warm. It was tenderly kneading her knuckles and fingers. She wanted to hold it. Just a squeeze. 

The hand retreated and she nearly let out a whine, but she only managed to exhale through her nose. She missed the warmth. She wanted to find it again. 

Her eyelids cracked open, the blurry colors slowly settling in. The first thing she recognized was a ceiling - she was at the hospital, again. But the room was darker than usual. The fluorescent lights were off, and the only light seemed to come from a window.

She slowly turned her head to look at the source of light, and her breath briefly paused at the view. Simon and Johnny were looking out of the window, supporting themselves on the other. Johnny’s arm was wrapped around Simon’s middle, and Simon’s was keeping Johnny close by his shoulders. 

[Name] thought they looked absolutely adorable, but short flashbacks began appearing in her mind. She remembered their worried eyes, their urgent voices. A pang of guilt weighed heavy in her chest - it was all her fault. Well, technically it was her captors’, but she had been careless enough to let it turn that bad. 

She missed them dearly, though. How long had it been since she fainted? She couldn’t wait in silence any longer. She wanted to see their faces again. 

She wet her lips, and took a deep, shuddery breath.

A slow, gentle whistle startled both men, and they turned around to meet [Name] looking at them with a drowsy smile and half-lidded eyes. 

“How’s the view?” her voice was barely louder than a whisper, but it seemed to echo in the silence of the room. 

In a fraction of a second, they cleared the distance from the window to the bed, barely able to contain their enthusiasm as their hands got hold of whatever was closer to them. Johnny’s hands cupped her face, while Simon took her hand and pressed it against his cheek, pressing his lips against the skin. 

Johnny looked deep into her eyes with a watery smile, his tears colliding with her rosy apples. “The view is beautiful, breathtaking actually,” he kissed her cheeks, earning a breathy giggle from her before she coughed, her throat still too dry. 

Simon handed her a glass of water and helped her take tiny sips, while Johnny pressed the button to call the nurse in. Once she’d drunk enough, Simon leaned in, claiming her lips in a slow, needy kiss. [Name] let out a small moan into his mouth, feeling content and fuzzy for the first time in a long while. 

~~~~~~

“...and only after you’ve completed the physical therapy, you can get back to training,” the doctor instructed [Name], and she couldn’t help but compare it to the little speech he had given her only a little over two months prior. “And then you have the psychological evaluation to determine if you’re suitable to get back on the field, but that’s out of my scope, really,” he shrugged and offered her a little smile, “I hope you don’t get back too soon this time, though.” 

[Name] pouted and let out a short snort at him, “Likewise, Doc,” she grumbled, but then she continued with a little grin of her own, “thanks for everything.” 

The doctor nodded and gave her a gentle pat on the leg, before taking his leave. All this time, while she was prodded and poked all over, Simon and Johnny had remained aside and out of the way, staring into the back of the heads of whoever got closer to her. 

But now they were alone in the room once again, and both men took one of her sides, unable to keep their hands off her now that she was awake. She hummed into their touches, raising her own hand to stroke Johnny’s cheek.

“I was half-expecting to see you turned into a lobster when you came back,” she teased him, and he only nuzzled into her hand.

“I did take the sunscreen,” he smiled, carefully stroking her bruised wrist with his thumb, “I always listen to you, y’know?” The question looked much heavier in his eyes than how it sounded, and [Name] didn’t fail to notice it.

“I know, you just like the banter, hm?” she smiled at him, pulling him down to kiss his cheek. She watched the corners of his eyes crinkle with a smile, and wiped out a stray tear with her thumb. He leaned in closer, burying his face in her neck and inhaling her scent deeply. 

She enjoyed his weight on her and relaxed into Simon’s touch as he held her hand in his own. A few more moments passed in silence, before she let out a little whine.

“I can’t believe I’ll be on medical leave, again,” she sighed, and Simon let out a chuckle, pressing his lips to her forehead. 

“We managed to get Price to let us stay with you this time,” he hummed, and she noticed a mischievous glint in his eyes. That piqued her interest, and curiosity got the best of her.

“...How?” 

“We told him that if he even talked about sending us off on a mission, we’d break our own legs and force him to put us on medical leave, too,” Johnny smirked, barely pulling away from her neck to speak. Her mouth fell open in shock.

“You did not-”

“Nothing will keep us away from you this time, Tweetie-bird,” Johnny pressed a soft kiss on her cheek, “we’re all going home together.”

[Name]’s smile only widened, and she knew that if both men paid attention, they would hear her speeding heartbeat. “Home?”

“My place,” Simon clarified, his thumb tenderly stroking her darkened cheek, “it’s big enough for the three of us.”

She considered the thought, falling asleep lulled by Johnny’s reading, and waking up to their sleepy faces and Simon’s awful bed hair. Lazy morning breakfasts, and quiet talks over hot drinks while snuggled up in Simon’s enormous sofa. 

“Sounds nice,” she hummed softly, before quickly piping up, “I call dibs in the middle!”

Johnny barked a laugh, before squishing her cheeks and making her lips pucker out, “as if I’d let you sleep anywhere else!” He pressed a sloppy kiss on her pouty lips, swallowing her giggles. 

Simon watched them - the two people that poured all their love into him without a second thought - with a content smile on his face. 

There was no empty space between him and Johnny any longer.

His heart was complete once again. 

The end.

A/N: Don't you guys love a happy ending? I personally love them :) Thank you all who stuck to the end, despite all the pain I made you go through, you truly mean a lot to me!! You read all of this idea of mine, that started like a little thought and snowballed into a 12-part series lol. Thank you again for all your support!!!

Taglist: @died-in-a-field-of-flowers @rafaelacallinybbay @namenotimportant1373 @ragingbookdragon @zinfairy @scrumplump @omgitstatertot @fullmoon-94 @kalamataolivesssss @embers-of-alluring @warenai @frazie99 @kee-0-kee @littlezarp @scaredknight @tapioca-marzipan @kendahl757 @sweetybuzz25 @cumbersome-robes @carlyi @oyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoya @scarletbandit @twistytimesandthoughts @angelsquidd @ilovemoneyandcheese @sail-boat21 @vvoidspaceeee @httpsarii1 @delreyaddict @madelyn324566 @badame0224 @httpsobi @joanne-uwu

[fran-in-the-deep]

Do you think the moon is a place?

Hange x gn!Reader | 400 words

"Do you think the moon is a place?” In a world restricted by walls, not even knowing what was beyond the horizon, Hange was the one to look up into the sky and think about leaving all this behind.

“A place? In what way?” You ask, following Hanges gaze into the night sky, to the full moon slowly disappearing behind a curtain of clouds yet again. It had been windy all day.

“A place you can go. That has a ground to walk on. Maybe there are even people living up there. Moon people in their moon houses.” Hange’s hand finds its way into your hair again, playing with it as they let out a thoughtful hum. You are huddled up under a blanket in one of the conclaves outside the Scouts headquarters watchtower, one of those no longer in use. Perfect for stargazing and moon watching. And a first kiss, a love confession, mourning beloved friends after an expedition. Whatever it was, it all comes back to here.

“I don’t think they’d call themselves that.” You note after a while, as the moon becomes visible again for a moment.

“You have a point. I guess they think they’re just people. We’d be the weird ones.” Hange says with a quiet chuckle and presses a kiss to your temple. You shiver from the gust of wind rushing past the tower, closing the cloudy curtains of the moon again. Hange pulls you closer before they continue talking. “You think they’re also sitting there, looking into the sky and wonder whether someone like them lives over here?”

“If there is people over there, there surely is a moon Hange asking their partner the exact same thing.” You joke and it makes them laugh a bit.

“Maybe they’ll be the ones visiting us first then. I’ll have to hurry up.” Hange rests their head against yours. They’re tired, exhausted, and so are you.

“So, how would we get up there?” You can’t help but ask, trying to hold on this moment a bit longer, unwilling to return to earth yet.

“Maybe one of the balloons filled with hot air. Or we’ll finally find a way to make bid wings work for us. But definitely something with enough space for us both.” Hange turns around to face you, a playful grin on their lips.

“So you’re going to fly me to the moon?”

Hange presses a gentle kiss to your lips. “To the moon and back.”

-----------------------------

A/N: Reminder to self that this is my self-indulgent anime sideblog and I can do whatever I want and write super cheesy stuff. Going back to the "If I had fun writing, that's enough, and when someone else likes it, that's a plus". And I had a really good time writing this, so I'm content.

[lou-struck]

A Birthday Trip

Simeon x reader

~ While the Brothers are putting together his party, you divide to take Simeon on a special Birthday Trip

a/n: little Birthday fic for the handsome Angel

The birthday boy is supposed to be arriving any minute, and you couldn't be happier to spend the day with him. For the nth time, you unzip your bag and check to make sure that you have everything you need for today's little outing into the human world.

Birthdays are taken very seriously in the Devildom, but even by its standards, you know that tonight is going to be crazy. Lucifer had taken it upon himself to rally the brothers in preparation for Simeon's not-so-surprising surprise party, leaving you with the very important job of keeping the handsome angel out of the way for a few hours.

And out of the way, he will be.

You came up with the idea early on in the party planning process to take Simeon over to the human world to spend the day at the Zoo to see some of his favorite animals, eat some sweets, and enjoy the sunshine.

The screen of your DDD illuminates with a message from Simeon telling your that he is outside, and you rush down the stairs to meet him.

Pushing open the heavy double doors of the House of Lamination, you see him walking towards you through the lush courtyard. "Simeon," you call as he whips his head toward the sound of your voice. The natural smile on his face grows when he sees you rushing toward him.

"Don't you look happy," you say, coming up and excitedly hugging the angel. He returns the embrace just as enthusiastically as his light chuckles shake his chest.

"why wouldn't I be? "He says, his deep blue eyes twinkling merrily. "I get to spend the entire day with you and no one else."

His sincerely romantic words make a loving heat prickle beneath your skin. "are you ready to go? You mumble, tearing your eyes away from his form.

He nods and takes your hand, "With you? Always?"

Despite the butterflies that are no doubt fluttering in your stomach, you laugh a little bit at his cheesy line. "Alright then, hold on tight, the portal should be opening up in three…two…one.."

"A portal?" he says confusedly, "Where are we going?"

You shoot him a devious smile as the portal appears in front of you, its misty spiral beckoning you into its pull. "You'll see,"

He laughs and steps into it, 'I guess I shall,"

~

The bright sky of the human world is a bit cloudy when the two of you step through the portal. It's not too bright, but The light breeze blows through Simeon's dark strands, somehow making him look even better.

"This weather is perfect, "he smiles "where are we? "

Grabbing his shoulders, he turned them around to face the large sign above the Zoo's entrance. "surprise. "You chirp, dramatically waving your hands like you're on a game show.

The smile that takes over his face is blinding, "are we really going to the Zoo? "he says, glancing at the posters of the featured animals. "They have everything from polar bears to gorillas."

"so, do you like it? "you ask "is this something you would want to do for your birthday? "

He nods. "I love it," he says, taking your hand and practically dragging you towards the entrance.

The line for the Zoo is nonexistent, so the two of you are able to walk right through the line flashing your prepaid tickets to the attendant.

The only people around seem to be a few elderly couples walking hand-in-hand and groups of children who look to be on their class trips. One of the zoo workers is carrying a large bundle of balloons. Their layer design catches Simeon's gaze as you walk past.

"Where to first MC?" He asks, taking one of the folded paper Maps from a dispenser.

But you don't answer him; instead, you walk over to the balloon vendor and ask for a deep blue one that matches his eyes.

" Firstly, I want to give you this." Your smile, tying the light string around his wrist.

"MC, you can't just go and give me everything I look at." He playfully scolds, admiring his gift.

"And why not?" You laugh "it's your birthday, after all. You deserve it."

"thank you, MC," he says, giving you a smile that is a bit too devilish for an angel. His gaze drops down to your lips. "If that's the case, then there's something else I'm looking at."

He leans in and places a chaste kiss on your lips. The sweetness makes you feel as if you are floating above the ground, like the balloon tied around his wrist.

"You're welcome, "you murmur, wondering if he can feel the heavy beating sounds of your heart. Clearing your throat, you point down the path toward some of the habitats you can explore. "Now, let's go find those Sloths."

His eyes shoot wide open in excitement at the mention of his favorite animal," They have Sloths here?"

"Oh," you coyly cover your mouth with your hand as if you are revealing a secret, "Did I not say that before?"

"No, you certainly did not," he says, scanning the map, trying to figure out which way would lead him to the habitat the quickest. "The sloth exhibit, it's under a canopy of some sort." He reads, taking your hand and leading you past the greenery and the residential wandering peacocks and towards the exhibit.

The Automatic doors of the forest canopy open for the two of you, and you are hit by a wave of the exhibit's temperature-controlled air.

"It feels nice in here," you say as the warm air hits your face. Peering over to Simeon, you see his handsome face is pressed up against the glass as he peers into the trees, trying to get a glimpse of the creatures. "Do you see anything?"

"Not yet," he hums, looking even closer through the glass.

Walking past him, you turn the corner and stare at the whole of the exhibit; dozens of sloths are lazily hanging from the thick branches and climbing ropes with half-lidded eyes and sleepy smiles. "Simeon, come over here. You can see so many Sloths."

You hear his footsteps quicken behind you as you take in the sight for yourself. "Look at them, he says in a hushed whisper. "This must be how Satan feels about cats."

"I think so," you chuckle, making eye contact with one hanging upside down at your eye level. Its tiny mouth opens slowly, and it sticks its little pink tongue out at you.

"I think it likes you," Simeon says, staring at it. His affection for it is clear as he mirrors its expression cutely.

"Not as much as you," you pout, crossing your arms at how even the Sloths seem to adore him.

"Getting jealous of a Sloth, are we?" He laughs, gently kissing your forehead.

"Maybe a little," you admit bashfully. "But they are cute, so I don't mind too much."

"As much as I adore these creatures, I think you are much more adorable, MC," he says. "Shall we go to the next exhibit?"

"No, not yet." you smile, "Let's stay here for a little longer."

"Not too long, though," he smiles, Leaning in and pulling you close.

You let out a little squeal before it is engulfed by his lips, kissing you breathless.

He pulls back just a bit when he has had enough of your air. "There are other things the two of us should do today." he murmurs against your lips, "and we wouldn't want to miss my surprise party."

[ratherbefangirling]

DRABBLE: Betrayal

Part ◾1 🖤 2 🖤 3 ◾

Pairing : Jimin x reader

Genre: hurt/comfort, yandere(soft) not very obvious in this one

The music thrummed through the walls of the club.

You stood outside the bathroom waiting for one of your friends. Your other friends were either already seated or enjoying the themelves on the dance floor. It was your friends birthday and she had invited you to the party. They also planned to surprise ther other friend with a custom cake and gifts because they missed her birthday.

They didn't get one for mine. your brain cruelly supplies.

Instead Jimin came knocking at your door exactly twelve 'o' clock, with a boquet and a cake and balloons. If it were any other day you wouldn't let him inside your house. You would ask him where he got your address even if you knew finding things about you was just a piece of cake for him.

"Are you ok?" your friend Momo asks as she takes a look at your face.

"I am fine." you reply politely.

Lights kept flashing. Blue, Red, Green ; brightening the cave like atmosphere of the place. You take a seat. The menu is passed round so everyone can select what they want to order. After placing the order. Everyone decides to go to the roof for pictures. The roof is airy. The weather is cloudy but you put on your brightest smile... so that nobody notices. The waiter calls you as the food is served. You try eating but you can only pick on your meal. Which you really shouldn't considering you'd technically paid for it. The gifts and cake were pricey afterall.

The meal ends and the waiter brings the surprise cake. Sulli smiles brightlyy plesantly surprised and you cant help but envy her. Your friend Sora nudges you and you take out the hand made scrapbook you'd pulled an all nighter on.. even though it was supposed to be a group project. You wonder why you invest so much when you get barely anything in return.

"I'm sorry something came up."you tell your hosts."I had a lot of fun see you later."

"Should I drop you?" Sora asks since she was your ride.

"I'll manage." You reply

Staying any longer felt unbearable.You sit on the stairs at the entrance of the club. Removing your high heels from your aching feet, you didnt know what possessed you to wear them.

Drops fell one by one, then all at once.

You clench your fist. Your nails pressing painfully on your palms.

You take out your phone to check the time and book a cab. You are ready to throw your phone when it reads unavailable.

You wonder if the buses will work.

You make a run to the nearest bus stop. You sit at the bus stop drenched. Even more uncomfortable than before.

You tug your jacket closer feeling uncomfortable at the men staring at you unashamed. Their smoking makes you nauseous for some reason.

You look to check the time again.

Your phone rings and you almost drop it.

"Hello." You say answering the call.

"Hi angel. I didn't think you'd answer my call."

"Mmh... what do you want?" Your voice is but a whimper for some reason.

"Can't I say I miss you?"

"You're my boss Jimin."

"So if I wasn't would you give me a chance." He questions.

"I dont know." There is silence on the line. "Actually I was just thinking about you... I uh.."

"I'm listening angel you have all my attention."

"It's Nothing." You say before you sneeze.

"Hmm I couldn't hear you doll are you outside?"

"Yes ... it was a birthday.. one of my friends had invited us."

"Do you need a ride home?" He asks.

"No its fine. I dont even know why I'm talking to my boss on the weekend."

"Come on I'll drop you. You're alone right.. Its dangerous for such a beautiful girl to be out. Send me your location now I'll be there."

You couldn't help but feel flattered. That Jimin would drop whatever he was doing for you at a moments notice. It was insane. The stark contrast of people in your life. On one hand were your friends and then there was Jimin.

You sighed. You were too tired to think. And cold. Anything seemed better than the pathetic state you were in.

As his sleek car rolls up you realise how much of a mess you were. You were surely dripping and probably ruined your makeup and hair.

The cars honk makes you get up.

The window rolls down revealing Jimin.

"I'm wet. I'll dirty it." You tell him.

"It's fine come in." He says urging you inside.

You sit and put the seat belt on when he hands you a towel.

"How?" You question without realising.

"I was shopping for home essentials for my guest room."

"Oh."You say grateful to the universe.

Jimin turns on the heater.

You open the mirror on the passenger seat to find luckily you don't look too bad.

The car ride is silent. Gentle music playing in the background so it's not awkward and before you realise it you fell asleep.

Jimin gently rouses you.

"Y/n. Angel. We're here."

You sneeze in response and are rewarded with Jimins sonorous laughter.

"Where are we?" You ask confused.

"Outside my apartment. It was closer. If you stay damp any longer you'll catch a cold. And we can't have that can we?"

Before you can answer he's dragging you along.

The building is luxurious to say the least. It looks straight out of a magazine. He leads you to the lift and up you go. The glass lift gives the night view and you can't help but admire it.

The lift opens into a hallway. Jimin unlocks his door with the press of a thumb.

The apartment is like the rest of the building sparkling and shiny.

Jimin pulls out some home slippers for you.

"Why don't you take a shower? I have some clothes that might fit."

You nod the bathroom is so clean that you're afraid to dirty it but you notice a yellow chick towel and it's a bit out of place but it makes you feel comfortable.

The jet spray is so good along with the perfect temperature of water that you never want to get out, but you're feet are aching.

So you get out and dry your hair and wear the soft cotton pajama set Jimin gave you.

As you near the drawing room you can hear sounds in the kitchen.

"Jimin.." you call.

"Here." He replies. His hair is wet too. He looks soft like a boba ball.

"Take a seat. It's almost ready. I thought it would be nice to have a snack."

You take a look around his house and soft a round sofa bed with fluffy pillows and you decide you want to try it.

You sit on it and wrap the sofa rug around yourself and stare outside. The view is spectacular with the glass walls. You wonder if you'd be able to have something like this if you want to.

Jimin brings two glasses of mojito and a plate of fried rice and dumplings to share.

"Dig in."

"Thank you for the meal." You say before eating a dumpling and it's perfect.

"You're a good cook."

You take a sip of the mojito and the fresh mint leaves make it refreshing.

"Do you want to watch something?" Jimin asks.

You shrug busy with your meal and he feels the urge to shuffle your hair.

He puts on a movie he's sure you like.

"Have you seen this?" You ask.

"Yes, it's one my favourites." He replies.

And maybe it's something about the night, that all your doors are open rather than closed.

What's one more betrayal after all.

Taglist : @mintsugarmy , @exfolitae

[firemeteortheanimatoer]

I am making an BFDI au!

Its caller bfdi: Next generation, the people in this photo are sunflower (firey x flower), air balloon (balloony x cloudy), color pencil (pencil x match) and phone (adopted by match and pencil)

[askbfdicharactersorocs]

may i know what ships? :o

ooo yes :D BFDI BubbleBlower(Buble x Fanny),Donut Bag(Donut x Barf Bag),Losercake(Loser x Cake),Grenade/Nailtag[i couldin't decide](Naily x Bomby/Naily x Price Tag),Tengolf(Tennis Ball x Golf Ball),Coin Pin(Coiny x Pin),MachCil(Mach x Pencil),Flowby(Flower x Ruby),Grassrock(Grassy x Rocky[AS A BEST FREIND SHIP SINCE THEYRE BOTH KIDS]),SawTy(Saw x Gaty),StapOldy(Foldy x Stapy),Cloony(Baloony x Cloudy)

II: Suitloon(Suitcase x Balloon),Bickle(Nickle x Basebal),Lightbrush(Light Bulb x Paint Brush),PayJay(Paper x OJ),FanTube(Fan x Test Tube),MarshBow(Marshmallow x Bow),SilverCandle(Silver Spoon x Candle),CabBot(Cabby x Bot) I don't have any ideas for crossover ships yet but i'd love to see some that anyone may have :D

[miss-celestial-being]

Scars

✥﹤┈┈┈┈┈﹥✥

request | masterlist

✥﹤┈┈┈┈┈﹥✥

𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: eddie munson x fem!reader

𝑠𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠: eddie's self conscious of his scars

𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: fluffy overload, angst is you squint, cute uncle/nephew moment, hero!eddie (canon), eddie being self conscious, mention of scars, mention of near death experience(?), implied smut ig (lmk if i missed anything)

𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 2,666 (had to add the full number bc look how amazing it is 😌)

𝑎𝑢𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑟’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠: idk, rushed ending again but im on my period, what more do you expect from me??

𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔: @lazydreamer19 (took a while so you're probably confused why im tagging you 😭)

✥﹤┈┈┈┈┈﹥✥

Eddie screamed out in pain as the bats bit and scratched at him. His clothes were stained with his own blood, his body sore from fighting. He covered his head, curling up on the ground, hoping for the pain to end but it didn't.

The bats attacked him at every chance they got, soon proving to be too much even for as strong of a warrior as Eddie the Banished. He laid on his back, accepting his fate.

Then it stopped.

The bats fell with a screech, falling dormant on the floor. Eddie remained on his back, his body aching, losing blood by the second, leaving him dazed. He stared up at the cloudy red sky, choking lightly on his blood.

"Eddie!" He heard Dustin cry out. His mind was screaming at him to reach out for his young friend, to hold him and tell him everything's ok, he'll be ok. But his body wouldn't let him. He laid there on the ground, listening to the cries of Dustin get closer and closer, until finally his tears were wetting Eddie's blood-stained face.

He said his goodbyes, letting his eyes flutter closed. His breaths were shallow, barely noticeable. With a half conscious mind, he felt his body being dragged away until finally his mind went blank.

•

Eddie's blinked his eyes open slowly, the steady beep of the heart monitor faint in his ears. His head felt as though it was underwater, muffling the sounds around him. He looked down at a Dustin's head; resting in Eddie's lap as soft snores fell from his lips, a book in his hand. Eddie smiled softly at his young friend, looking around the room.

Balloons and 'get well soon' cards lined one wall, a few pictures of his face with a pentagram drawn over it peaked out of the trash. Eddie sighed, looking back down at his friend. He ran his fingers through the boy's hair softly, urging him to wake up.

Dustin groaned softly, opening his eyes and letting them adjust to the light of the room. He immediately shot up, looking at the man he so admired with wide eyes, a big grin evident on his face. "Eddie!" He yelled out in joy as he wrapped his arms around the man's neck. "I'm so glad you're ok!" Eddie winced at his touch, making Dustin pull back with a guilty look. "Sorry." He whispered.

Eddie smiled at the boy, looking at the door as it opened. Steve, Robin, Nancy, Mike, and the rest of Hellfire–except Lucas–made their way inside, teddy bears and cards in hand. Robin was the first to speak, talking about nonsense as the others shuffled in. The last to walk in was his uncle Wayne, a small homemade card in hand.

Tears filled his tired eyes as he walked to his nephew. "Hey, boy." Eddie smiled softly, sitting up slowly. He wrapped his arms around his uncle tightly, his tears wetting his shirt. Wayne's arms slowly snaked around him, holding him as he kissed the top of his head.

Eddie pulled away, coughing. His coughs sounded more like wheezes and Steve ran out to get him some water. He carefully handed it to him, watching to make sure he didn't drop it. Eddie slowly took a sip, holding it in his hands as he looked around at his friends, having never felt so loved.

"How long was I out?" He asked, his voice hoarse. "About 3 weeks." Nancy answered, giving Eddie a moment to process the information. He hummed, looking down at the paper cup. "And you guys visited me?" He asked, almost as though he didn't believe they'd care enough. Steve nodded, "Mainly Dustin and I but Nance and Rob stopped by." Eddie hummed once again. Nancy took the silence as an invitation to speak. "Uh, I get that it's probably not your biggest concern right now, but I convinced the principal to get you the stuff you missed. I was thinking I could help you work on it." Her words slowly became quiet as she spoke, shaking her head. "Never mind, it was dumb, sorry." She looked down at her feet embarrassment. "No, no. I'd appreciate it, thanks. The sooner I graduate, the sooner I can leave the hell that is high school." He chuckled.

Nancy smiled, her shoulders falling, visibly relaxed. Dustin laughed. "There he is!" He cheered as he hugged Eddie once more, this time ignoring his wince.

•

Eddie walked with a limp, needing help to stand from the pain in his legs and chest. He stood slowly, holding onto Dustin's outstretched arms to hoist himself to his feet. "Thanks, man." He whispered out quietly, still embarrassed about needing help to do the simplest things.

"No problem." Dustin smiled, running out to open Steve's car door for Eddie. Eddie nodded in appreciation, sliding i to the backseat slowly. "Alrighty, buckle up." Steve said, putting the car in reverse to drop off Robin, Dustin, and Eddie to high school.

"Ok, we're here, get out." Steve said as he stopped his car, looking back at Eddie. "You need help?" His voice now softer. Eddie shook his head, determined to get up on his own.

He walked around the school, ignoring the stares and whispers, as usual, walking to his locker with his head down to cover the cuts and bruises on his face. He stopped at his locker, feeling stunned by what was written on it.

'HERO' in all caps was painted vertically on the door. Flowers and 'get well' cards littered the floor. Eddie stepped around the gifts, opening his locker and putting away his books. People walked up to Eddie, patting him on the back and applauding him as he walked in between classes.

Eddie was relieved when he finally got home, tired of all the attention. He limped his way to the couch, turning on the tv as he sat down. A knock on the trailer door caught his attention. He sighed, groaning as he struggled to get up. "One second!" He called out.

Once he finally managed to get to his feet, he limped back over to the door, opening it to see who was there. "Can i help you?" He asked the girl that stood there, her eyes spaced out as she bit her nails, staring at the wall of the trailer. "Hello?" He waved at hand in front of her, getting her attention. She looked up, catching his eyes. "Oh, hi."

There was a pause, like she didn't remember what she was doing there. "Do you need something?" Her eyes went wide, nodding her head quickly. "Oh, right! Uh could you sign this? I'm trying to petition the mayor to accommodate to the less fortunate rather than the people who can buy there way out of here. I completely get it if you don't wanna sign it though, not many people do. It's just a school assignment so it doesn't really mean much I guess-"

She quickly stopped her rambling, staring at the scar on Eddie's face. "Where'd you get that from?" She reached a hand out to touch it, stopping when she noticed Eddie's shoulders hunch uncomfortably. "Sorry." She mumbled, looking down at the petition. "Y'know what, never mind, sorry to bother you." She sighed out, turning around the walk down the rickety steps, getting stopped by a hand on her wrist.

"It's ok, I'll sign it. Do you have a pen?" Y/n looked down at her hand, her eyebrows furrowing in thought. "I could've sworn I had one." She mumbled, patting her pockets, determined to find that damn pen. "I think I may have one, you're welcome to come in." He said as he walked into the small kitchen, picking up a pen from a bowl and testing it on the paper, repeating till he found one that worked. "Got it." He said as he sat next to the girl. "Ok where do I sign?" She pointed to the line on the page marked '3.'

"You want some water or something?" He asked, eyes focused on the page as he tried to keep his hand from shaking. Y/n was staring at his scar again, sitting up in her chair and moving closer, pushing Eddie's hair out of the way as she trued to get a better look. "You never said where you got it from." She whispered absentmindedly, focused on the line down the side of his face. "It's uh-" He started, pulling away from her hand, "it's kinda a hard story for me to tell. Also kinda hard to tell it without sounding completely crazy." He mumbled the last part, looking down at his lap.

Y/n smiled. "I like crazy." She touched the scar lightly, softly petting his hair. Eddie sighed, looking down at his lap, picking at his nails. "Long story or short?" His eyes stayed downward. "I have time." Y/n said as she rested her face in her palm, putting her full focus on Eddie.

•

Y/n walked up to Eddie's trailer nervously, biting her nails as she waited for the door to open. She watched the two kids playing makeshift soccer, giggling each time they bumped into each other. Y/n laughed with them, a small smile resting on her face.

"You have a nice smile." Eddie's voice caught her attention and she turned to face him, cheeks hot as she turned her eyes downward toward her feet. "Thanks." "C'mon in." He stepped to the side, letting her walk in before closing the door.

Y/n turned around to face Eddie with a similar smile as before, walking into his room to look for movies to watch. Eddie held up a VHS, Y/n's smile growing at the title on it. "You like The Breakfast Club?" Eddie rolled his eyes. "Of course I like it, it's amazing. Cinema at its finest." Y/n laughed, nodding in agreement.

•

Y/n laughed, touching Eddie's arm gently as the two walked to class. He opened the door, gesturing for her to go through before he followed after. "Ah, Ms. Y/l/n, Mr. Munson, how nice of you to join us." Mrs. Harris commented, stopping in the middle of her sentence with a raise of her eyebrow.

Y/n shared a look with Eddie, looking back at Mrs. Harris, biting her lips in attempt to stop herself from laughing. "Uh, hey, Mrs. Harris. How's it goin'?" Eddie snorted loudly, Y/n following shortly.

Eddie whined as Y/n hit him on the arm, the two of them walking to the principal's office. "I can't believe you got us in trouble." She huffed, feigning disdain. "Oh hush, you were the one who insisted on going to class. I was perfectly set on staying in my van and getting high till 3rd period was over but no." He rolled his eyes playfully. Y/n shook her head, laughing softly as she looked down at her feet.

"Y'know," She looked back up at Eddie's eyes, moving his hair out of his face and tracing his scar, "we do still have time for that." Eddie blushed, his face hot as he smiled down at the girl. "Van or forest?" Y/n hummed in thought. "How 'bout your place?" She smiled mischievously as she took off, running to his van.

"Go! Go! Go!" Y/n yelled as Eddie started the car, looking back at the school in fear of getting caught. "I'm trying, hold on!" He got the car to start, pulling out of the school parking lot quickly as he drove back to the trailer.

Y/n ran to the door, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she waited for Eddie to unlock the door, running inside as soon as he did. She jumped onto the bed, her arms and legs extended as she laid on her stomach. Eddie laughed as he walked into his room, rolling his eyes at the girl as he went to his dresser to grab out a rolled joint.

He lit it quickly, taking a drag and passing it to his friend. He watched as she did the same, closing her eyes as she let her head fall back in bliss. "Hey." He whispered, looking into her eyes as he moved closer. "Hi." Y/n smiled, moving Eddie's hair out of his face. Eddie leaned in, giving no time for second thoughts, catching her lips with his.

Their lips melded together like putty, fitting together as though they were puzzle pieces. Y/n held Eddie's face with a feather light touch, pulling him closer gently.

Eddie pulled back, frozen completely. He panicked, eyes wide as he stared at Y/n's lips. They formed a small amused smile, her eyes trying to catch his gaze. "Eddie." His name sounded so nice coming from her, catching his attention quickly. Her fingers playing with the hair around his face, rubbing his cheek softly. "Hey." She whispered, biting her bottom lip to conceal her grin. "Hi." He whispered back, completely in awe as she brought him back in for another kiss.

•

Y/n placed a gentle kiss to the top of Eddie's head, brushing through his hair as they watched TV. Eddie sighed, leaning his head back to look at her, smiling. "I love you." Y/n whispered. Eddie paused, sitting up and turning to look at her. "Really?" She nodded, smiling softly at the boy, placing a kiss to each cheek, peppering kissed along the scar on his face. "More than anything."

Eddie felt tears form in his eyes, swallowing the sob that threatened to leave his lips at the thought of being loved and held at such a high place as number one in someone's eyes. He smiled, hugging Y/n tightly. "I love you too." A few tears slipped from his eyes, wetting Y/n's shirt.

"Aw, baby, why are you crying?" She asked softly, kissing his tears away. "I..." He sniffled, looking up at Y/n with glassy eyes. He smiled, hiding his face in her neck. "I've just never felt this happy before." He sighed out, relaxing at the feeling of Y/n's fingers scratching his scalp.

Y/n bent down to kiss the tears off his cheeks, her hand tracing the scar on his face. She kissed his lips once, twice, the kiss slowly growing heated. Y/n stood up with Eddie, their lips remaining connected. Eddie pulled back to take off her shirt, kissing down her neck, whispering 'I love you's' against her skin.

Y/n pushed Eddie back on the bed, crawling over him, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his jaw, moving downwards toward his collar. She slowly lifted his shirt, her hands sliding underneath, only to get pushed away by Eddie. Y/n held his face in her hand, kissing the tip of his nose. "Hey, we don't have to do anything." Eddie shook his head, looking down at his lap.

"No, no, I want to it's just- I just don't want you to- I don't like-" Y/n waited patiently for him to finish his sentence, smiling comfortingly, encouragingly. "I don't want you to see the scars there. They- I don't like them." Y/n nodded in understanding, kissing his forehead and cheeks, pulling back with a smile. "Like I said, we don't have to do anything. If you didn't want me to see them, then I won't do anything, I promise." She held out her pinky, making him laughing slightly.

Eddie locked pinkies with her, looking into her eyes, finding nothing but love and sincerity in them. He looked down at her lips, capturing them in his own, pulling her back on top of him, taking off his shirt in a wave of confidence which was gone as quickly as it came. He became bashful, attempting to his his scars unsuccessfully with the amount there were. Y/n bent down, taking time to kiss each and every one of them, showing them an equal amount of love.

Coming back up, she kissed his lips, smiling into the kiss. "You're beautiful." She mumbled against his lips. Eddie smiled, chuckling. "So are you." He winked.

[wondernimbus]

two sworn enemies pt. 2 — draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x female!reader

summary: maybe being fancied by draco malfoy isn’t so bad, after all.

requests are closed for now. please refrain from plagiarizing my work!

click here to read pt. 1!

"Why is it so bloody cold?"

[Y/N] is decked out in full winter apparel; a knitted Gryffindor sweater, ear-muffs, and a scarf that she has half of her face buried in.

Sitting in the Quidditch stands with the rest of her friends, she grumbles, "It's not even a Gryffindor match. We don't really have to be here freezing to death."

"Well, it's common courtesy," says Hermione, but she's just as cold as [Y/N] is; there's bits of snow stuck in her hair and the tip of her nose is pink.

Ron snorts loudly. “We’re here to watch Slytherin lose," he says matter-of-factly, still in the process of smearing streaks of blue paint across his cheek.

[Y/N] watches him, nose scrunched. "Well, aren't you the Ravenclaw fanatic."

He gives her a grin and holds out the small tub of paint. "Want some?"

She bunches up her lips in thought, then reaches out to take it. Annoyingly enough, Ron pulls back at the last moment, grinning wider than ever, and says, "Or d'you want to show support for your boyfriend Malfoy? Hermione, why don't you turn this green—"

[Y/N] dives over Hermione and Harry to smack Ron round the head, only for the pair to hold her back and push her into her seat.

Exasperated, Hermione huffs, "Honestly, Ronald, will you stop bringing that up?" She glares at him. "You know fully well [Y/N] doesn't like it."

Ron (and Harry, although he isn't as boisterous about it as the redhead), thinks that the "blond ferret" taking a fancying to her is one of, if not the most hilarious thing to have ever happened in history. Annoyingly enough, Ron has made it a habit to tease her about it every chance he gets—this one being one of them.

"If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought Ron fancied Malfoy with how much he talks about him," grins Harry. This earns him a smatter of blue paint across his face; Ron had flicked it at him.

With one last eye-roll, [Y/N] tears her gaze away from Ron and digs her nose further into her scarf. It really is very cold; snow is falling from the sky, seeping into her clothes, some landing on her hair and on her face. Thankfully there's not so much of it that the players on the pitch wouldn't be able to see around them, but still—[Y/N] imagines that it'd be a lot colder for them, having to fly around the stadium with the cold wind whipping at their robes.

There’s a buzz of loud chatter hanging in the air as conversations from all around them overlap over one another. The entire stadium is slowly filling up; students trickle into the stands, a majority of which have adorned themselves with blue accessories as a show of support to Ravenclaw. One side of the stands, however, is entirely green. Through the snow, she can see a big serpent-shaped balloon hovering over the Slytherin side.

"They’re coming out!" someone exclaims.

Sure enough, when [Y/N] looks down at the pitch, players from both teams have appeared and congregated at opposite ends of the pitch. Slytherin and Ravenclaw; whichever house wins will play Gryffindor for the house cup. Most bets are on Slytherin, but [Y/N] would have to be dead before she is caught anywhere supporting them.

"Look, it's [Y/N]'s boyfriend," gushes Ron.

More out of habit than anything, [Y/N] shoots the redhead yet another brief, scathing look. Draco Malfoy is there, even though he's nowhere near being her boyfriend, pale face set into a stoic expression of calm as he stands with the rest of his team, one hand on his broom and the other on his hip—and this specific image has her thinking back to what happened two weeks ago on this very same pitch, except the stadium was empty and it was only the two of them on the grounds; when he'd confessed to liking her.

As if Malfoy has somehow heard her thoughts over the noise of excited chatter coming from all over the stands, he looks up, eyes sweeping the seats in search for someone before finally, they land on her.

When he meets her gaze, [Y/N]'s breath isn't knocked out of her chest, nor does she start blushing madly. But she doesn't burn red with annoyance, either. All she does is stare at him, eyes narrowed, watching as his lips split into a wide grin and he raises his hand to wave at her.

She rolls her eyes, but thankfully—thankfully, the scarf tucked around her neck, reaching up to her nose, conceals the smile that tugs at her lips.

"May I ask everyone to please find themselves in their seats before the match begins," McGonagall’s voice echoes around the stadium, giving [Y/N] a reason to break eye contact.

She tears her stare away from Malfoy’s, inhaling a deep breath through her nose, feeling oddly exhilarated.

But this isn't anything new. That slight feeling of breathlessness, that unfamiliar sensation tickling at her stomach whenever she spots a certain someone in the hallway; she's been feeling it a lot lately, and though the cause seems to be pretty obvious, that is another thing she'd have to be caught dead before doing: admitting that she reciprocates some of Malfoy’s.. peculiar feelings.

"And they're off!" Dean Thomas announces. [Y/N] watches as the players soar high into the air until they're mostly level with the stands, a blur of blue and green robes rapidly zooming around the pitch. Slytherin is already in possession of the quaffle; not a surprise, considering Ravenclaw isn't exactly known for their exceptionally talented Quidditch team.

Malfoy, meanwhile—[Y/N] tells herself that the way her eyes dart around the pitch in search of a certain platinum blond is because she wants to watch the game properly and not for other reasons.

She spots him hovering somewhere above the rest of the players, face screwed up in concentration as his gaze moves around the pitch in search for the golden snitch. He looks even paler in winter, set against a backdrop of a cloudy sky and snow—

[Y/N] jars herself out of her thoughts and blinks, side-eyeing her friends (specifically Ron) to make sure they hadn't seen her.. observing the Slytherin seeker. (Not like it matters; it's not as though she fancies him, but Ron would certainly take it the wrong way.)

"Go Ravenclaw!" Ron practically screeches, waving his Ravenclaw banner in the air—when did he get that? "Kick Slytherin’s arse so Gryffindor can crush you in the finals!"

[Y/N] snorts. "Have it all thought out, don't you, Ron?"

"Go on and cheer for your Slytherin boyfriend, [Y/N], no one's stopping you," says Harry, grinning. She turns to face him, mouth open in disbelief, and lets out a quick breath of incredulous laughter.

"So, Harry," [Y/N] says, suddenly deadpan. ”I see you've chosen Ron’s side."

Harry snickers, then shrugs.

"Oh, Malfoy’s seen the snitch!" someone shouts from beside them. [Y/N] turns back to the game to see Malfoy zooming down the pitch, clutching the front of his broom as he swerves past Slytherin and Ravenclaw players alike in pursuit of the tiny golden ball all the way on the other side of the stadium, where [Y/N] and her friends are sat. He has the upper hand—Ravenclaw's seeker is only just now starting to fly after him, but she's a good distance behind and Malfoy is gaining speed.

"He’s gonna catch it!"

"Ravenclaw's even worse than I thought," grumbles Ron, slumping down in his seat.

But just as Malfoy passes by them, somehow, despite the fact that he is in pursuit of the bloody golden snitch and on the brink of securing victory for his team, he slows down just the tiniest bit, and then, in true Malfoy fashion��theatric as always in his displays of affection—he catches her eye and yells “This one's for you, [Y/N]!”, a grin on his face before he hurtles down the pitch, stretching out his hand towards the fluttering snitch—

"Malfoy’s got the snitch!" Dean Thomas screams into his microphone. "Slytherin wins!"

[Y/N] stares, feeling oddly warm despite the wintry weather, as Malfoy spins around in mid-air, triumphantly holding up the snitch for the rest of Hogwarts to see.

"Blimey," gapes Ron, wide-eyed, staring not at the Slytherin seeker but at [Y/N]. "That was—"

[Y/N] looks away from Malfoy to meet Ron's gaze, maintaining indifference. "He’s quite the charmer, isn't he?" she mutters, and hopes that her friends will think that the blush on her cheeks is because of the cold and not because of something—someone else.

But that's ridiculous. It is because of the cold, isn't it?

"It may be Malfoy," says Ron slowly, shaking his head, "But you can't deny that was bloody romantic. Felt like I was watching something out of one of those Muggle films."

"Yeah, we'll have to ask him for tips," says Harry, and starts laughing when [Y/N] rolls her eyes in response.

—

Malfoy may have stopped sending her Howlers, but that hardly matters because he has found every other way to pester her.

This includes consistently yelling out her name and shouting random pick-up lines every time he spots her in the hallway, as well as sending people to do her bidding—no longer first-years, but Crabbe and Goyle, who show up at random intervals everyday presenting her with a batch of different pastries. She always sends the pair off, but only after Ron and Harry accept said pastries for themselves.

"Blimey, this is heavenly!" gushes Ron, taking a passionate bite off of his second red velvet cupcake. "You sure you don't want a bite, [Y/N]? Hermione?"

[Y/N] offers him an exasperated smile. "No, thank you, Ron."

"Don’t thank me, thank your boyfriend."

The four of them walk into the dingy Potions classroom. Snape is nowhere to be seen, but it's only a matter of time before he swoops in all bat-like, so [Y/N] and Hermione quickly take a seat at their regular desk, right next to Ron and Harry.

"Have you done your homework?" asks Hermione, pulling out an assortment of parchment from her bag.

[Y/N] hums in response. "I doubt mine is half as good as yours, but hopefully I’ll scrape an acceptable."

"Oh, you're a good student, [Y/N]. Don't bring yourself down."

"Hard not to when I’m sitting next to the brightest witch in our year," she nudges Hermione’s shoulder, smiling. Hermione huffs, rolling her eyes, but it's clear by the pleased look on her face that she doesn't hate [Y/N]'s honest flattery as much as she lets on.

[Y/N] drums her fingers on the desk to pass time, not quite paying attention to the students filtering into the classroom. Or at least not until one of them calls her name and drawls, "Is someone sitting here?"

[Y/N]'s head snaps around to see none other than Malfoy, gesturing to the desk to the left of hers and Hermione’s. "Mind if I,” he pauses, grinning, "Slytherin?"

She purses her lips into a thin, tight line, inhaling deeply as she fights to keep her cool. Yes, there are times when Malfoy's gestures have her questioning her own hatred for him, but this—this is not one of them.

"That," she says, voice mostly level. "Is your seat, Malfoy. I don’t see why you have to ask me."

Which is a lie. [Y/N] knows why, of course. To get her attention. To woo her. But part of her wishes that Malfoy would realize that everything he is doing, from the overbearing pick up lines to the cupcakes to his constant public declarations of love, isn't something that [Y/N] thoroughly enjoys. Does she want him to stop yelling at her in the hallways? Yes. Does she want Crabbe and Goyle to stop bumbling up to her everywhere she goes (outside of the girl's bathroom is one example) offering cupcakes and pie and tarts? Yes. But does she want Malfoy to stop trying entirely?

Maybe not. Maybe part of her wants to give him a chance. He does seem to truly hold feelings, judging from his confession back at the Quidditch stadium, unless he's a terribly good actor.

And it wouldn't just be him she'd be giving a chance, either. Perhaps she'd also be doing so to herself. Because, over the past month, it's baffled her how quickly her feelings for him have shifted. Or maybe it's not a change of feelings, but rather realization that under all that sneering and pureblood prejudice, Draco Malfoy is a boy.

An annoyingly attractive one.

But there is so much more that [Y/N] dislikes about him. His snootiness. His arrogance. His lack of consideration for other people's feelings. He may be tall and lithe and undeniably handsome, and he may have very soft-looking platinum blond hair and stormy grey eyes like dark clouds, but he is also a prick. And that wins over everything else, no matter how.. visually pleasing he is.

So when a paper bird flutters in front of her halfway through the lesson, when Snape’s back is turned, [Y/N] hesitates. She knows fully well who it's from, despite not having to look to the side and meet his gaze.

From beside her, Hermione whispers, "Get rid of it, before Snape sees."

Exhaling, [Y/N] snatches the paper bird and quickly unfolds it.

She doesn't know what she's expecting to see, but it's certainly not the words "meet me at the Astronomy tower after dinner" scribbled across the parchment. And with a drawing of a face blowing kisses, no less.

[Y/N] sighs.

—

[Y/N] has no real feelings for Malfoy, so succumbing to his mysterious evening request at the Astronomy tower shouldn't mean anything.

Scratch that: it doesn't mean anything. Not to her. (Or so she tells herself.) This is a chance for her to tell Malfoy to sod off and to stop courting her. And for good, this time. No matter what that annoying little voice inside her head tells her, she can't possibly even consider the idea of actually giving in to him. (And to herself.)

So she's going to put a stop to it, once and for all.

"I’m going," she decides over dinner, slamming her palms down on the table.

"Going where?" asks Harry.

"The Astronomy tower," she replies resolutely.

"What, to go star-gazing?" Ron snickers. [Y/N] glances at him and realizes, quickly, that telling them had slipped her mind—she'd been far too preoccupied with her own conflicting thoughts.

She shifts in her seat. She doesn't necessarily need to tell them, does she? It's not as though it's important enough to share. And besides, Ron would only badger her about it. Mercilessly. [Y/N] can already picture him in her head, talking about Malfoy and snogging under the stars and Merlin-knows-what-else.

"Nevermind," says [Y/N], taking a bite out of a muffin and looking away. They don't need to know; it's not as though it's important.

—

After [Y/N] has walked up all of the stairs to get there, only taking one or two shortcuts, she's out of breath, but she creeps into the Astronomy tower anyway. It’s mostly dark save for the faint moonshine filtering in from the open sides, and, well—there he is.

Malfoy’s arms are crossed over his chest, his back mostly turned as he stands dangerously close to the railing, looking out over the dark landscape. Dim light catches on the side of his face, illuminating the grey of his eyes.

The curve of his nose.

Pale skin.

White-blond hair.

[Y/N] finds herself staring, one hand on the doorframe as though for support, brows furrowed in the middle in a slight frown as she watches him.

He looks lost in thought. Even from a few feet away, [Y/N] can see the far-off, distant look in his eyes. Like storms brewing behind dark clouds, she thinks to herself. It’s a quiet little whisper in the back of her mind that has her heart doing odd little flips inside of her chest that she never knew it was capable of.

But then she blinks.

This is the last thing [Y/N] needs. To see Malfoy stripped of his arrogance—to see him as he is, bathed in moonlight, glowing, almost. To look at him and to see a boy with eyes like molten silver and nothing more—it's the last thing she needs to convince herself that she doesn't feel something for him that isn't hatred.

No, she doesn't need this.

She turns around, breath caught in her throat, and starts walking down the steps. Accidentally, stupidly, her foot catches on a metal step and a loud clang echoes around the silent tower.

[Y/N] pauses, eyes wide.

"[Y/N]?" Malfoy's voice says. He can't see her. It’s too dark, and [Y/N] is too far down the steps.

She swallows. But instead of dreading what could come, she finds herself waiting, half-hoping that he'd check the staircase, that he would see her and—

And then what?

[Y/N] rushes down the steps, ignoring the loud noise her footsteps make on the way. This is the last thing she needs.

—

[Y/N] doesn't like Malfoy.

[Y/N] doesn't like Malfoy, and she is determined to make that clear. (Both to herself and to her friends, although the former seems to be taking a lot more convincing.)

"What is there to like about him? He’s nothing but an annoying pain in the arse who has an overwhelming amount of pride and arrogance simply because of his blood—which is not only something that he never rightfully earned but is also something that shouldn't even bloody matter, except he thinks that it does solely because he is an absolute nutter who has nothing better to do with his life other than leech off of his parents' money and shove it in other people's faces."

Ron meets Harry’s gaze from across the table, who seems to be trying very hard not to laugh. Swallowing down a forkful of pancakes, Ron looks back at [Y/N]. "I’m sorry," he begins slowly. "But remind me again why we're talking about Malfoy?"

"I’m not finished, Ronald," [Y/N] snaps, shooting him a dirty look. Ron raises his eyebrows. "As I was saying before someone so rudely cut me off, Malfoy is a nasty little git who finds joy in making other people suffer. he probably has tiny puppies locked up inside his basement just so he can laugh in their faces and revel in their misery because he is that horrible of a person—"

Harry lurches with poorly suppressed laughter.

"An absolute terrible excuse for a human being! He basks in other people's humiliation—mine, for example!—and I would much rather snog the Giant Squid than ever actually consider his—" She pauses, gritting her teeth. "Odd.. requests."

"It’s not like he's asking you to murder house-elves," Ron mutters.

"Something that I would rather do than date him!"

"[Y/N]!" Hermione gasps, looking genuinely offended as she, for the first time since they'd arrived at the Great Hall for breakfast, looks up from the homework she's rushing to finish. (As if her five pieces worth of parchment aren't enough—Flitwick had only asked for three!)

"Sorry, Hermione," [Y/N] says, offering her an apologetic look that she only half-means. This quickly turns into a fierce look of challenge as she swivels back around in her seat to face the redhead sitting next to her. "Honestly, since when have you started defending Malfoy?"

Ron blanches. "I’m not defending him!" he says indignantly, setting his fork down on his plate. "It’s just.. yeah, it's a bit odd that he's declaring his undying love for you out of bloody nowhere, but he's stopped badgering us, hasn't he? Nasty little ferret hasn't said a word to Harry for weeks! And that goes for me and Hermione, too!"

[Y/N] narrows her eyes at him. "So you think it's great that he's stopped annoying you at the cost of my suffering?"

"What suffering!" Ron exclaims. "He’s been treating you like a bloody princess!"

"Oh, why don't you just snog him yourself, then, if you think so highly of him?"

Ron’s jaw drops in shocked offense.

"Alright, that's enough!" Harry announces, reaching over the table to shove the two apart from each other. "Why doesn't one of you switch seats with me before you end up strangling each other?"

"I don't know, Harry," [Y/N]'s lip curls. "I might have to hold Ron back before he goes running off to his ferret prince—or should we just let him? Merlin knows he'd love to, won't you, Ronald?"

Ron’s teeth are gritted; his eyes dart around the food on the table as though looking for the most effective weapon. He seems to be choosing between a green apple and rhubarb pie.

Thankfully, Ron never gets to take his pick. The bell rings, saving everyone in the Great Hall from witnessing what could have possibly been a brawl between friends. "Come on, let's go," says Harry quickly, relief evident in his tone of voice as he ushers the pair to their feet. "Wouldn’t want to be late for class."

—

[Y/N] doesn't like Malfoy.

[Y/N] doesn't like Malfoy, but why does she find herself staring at him whenever she comes across him in the hallway the next day? Why, when Malfoy meets her gaze, does she look away and pretend to be immersed in something else?

And why in the bloody hell, when Malfoy playfully winks at her during Potions class, does she find it very, very hard not to smile?

She walks out of the dungeon classroom in a hurry with Ron, Harry, and Hermione, not wanting to spend a minute more in Malfoy's presence; she doesn't particularly enjoy being suddenly hyperaware of every move he makes, every little glance he sends her way when he thinks she isn't paying attention. It’s as though something in her system has gone awry. Is that why her heart feels like it's about to hop right out of her chest? Is that why she can't stop wondering what would've happened if she'd stayed at the Astronomy tower?

"Hey, wait up!” Harry calls loudly as they walk up the stone steps leading away from the dungeons and into the main hallway, which is bustling with students.

[Y/N], who had been walking far too fast in front of the three, looks back over her shoulder and sees that they're a few feet away. She stops, seemingly flustered, and waits for them to catch up.

"You look like you've wet your pants," says Ron.

"I’m not you, Ron," she retorts.

"Oh, can you two please stop bickering for once?" says Hermione, exasperated.

From behind the three, Draco Malfoy emerges from the potions classroom and begins walking up the stone steps. [Y/N]'s hands clench into fists at her side as she discretely presses her back to the stone wall at her sides.

The blond doesn't even as much as glance at Ron, Harry, and Hermione as he passes by them on the steps. [Y/N], however—once Malfoy has reached the step below the one she's standing on, he pauses, no less than two feet away from her, and quirks an eyebrow.

"What?" [Y/N] scowls, trying not to look at the strand of blond hair dangling in front of his eyes.

Malfoy’s gaze dances over her face. "Was it you?"

She meets her friends' eyes over Malfoy's shoulder. Ron and Harry have their eyebrows raised; Hermione looks concerned. [Y/N] takes a moment to compose herself—tries to force her heart back into her chest—before she folds her arms across her chest and looks at the Slytherin. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"At the Astronomy tower," Malfoy says, and moves up one step so that he's standing on the same one she's on. A foot away. "I heard someone last night, while I was waiting for you."

Oh, Merlin.

"You came, didn't you?" he presses on.

"No," [Y/N] lies, and hates how defensive she sounds. She shifts a little on her feet, her eyes skirting away to look at a random spot behind Malfoy. "I was.. at the library. Doing things of actual importance."

There’s a slight pause as Malfoy's nose wrinkles. "Must’ve been someone else spying on me, then," he finally says through a scoff, but [Y/N] knows disappointment when she sees it. He rolls his shoulders back and puts on his signature smirk, inclining his head towards her as he takes another step up the stairs. "Better hurry and give me an answer, [Y/N]," he tells her, grinning. "Before one of my admirers get to me first."

[Y/N] watches as he walks up the steps and disappears into the hallway.

"The library?" a voice says incredulously. She turns back to Ron, whose face is scrunched in disbelief. "No, you weren't! We were waiting for you there and you never came."

[Y/N] folds her arms across her chest indignantly but doesn't respond, instead walking up the stone steps.

"Malfoy said he was waiting for you at the Astronomy tower," says Hermione slowly as they trail after her; [Y/N] speeds up her pace. "Is that why you mentioned going there during dinner last night?"

[Y/N] emerges into the main corridor first. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did!" bursts Ron, sounding downright triumphant.

"Congratulations, Ron, you don't have the memory range of a teaspoon, after all," [Y/N] mutters, looking around. Malfoy is walking down the hallway a few feet ahead of them, Crabbe and Goyle at his side.

Ron ignores her. "I bet you did go. I bet you did spy on him—" And then he gasps, looking as though he's unearthed the secret of life. "Merlin’s beard, you really do fancy him, don't you?"

[Y/N]'s footsteps falter. Ron, Harry, and Hermione stop right with her.

Hermione is the only one who doesn't look stunned out of her mind. Looking between the two boys, she rolls her eyes and scoffs. "Honestly, is that so hard to believe?" says Hermione, frowning. "I understand that it's Malfoy and he is a prick, but [Y/N] is perfectly entitled to fancy whoever she likes." She turns to [Y/N]. "It’s fine, [Y/N], you don't have to feel guilty about it. Anyone would catch feelings if someone started doing such sweet things for them, even if it were someone like Malfoy."

"Blimey," says Harry, breathless. "Which part sealed the deal, [Y/N]? The pick-up lines? Or was it the cupcakes?"

[Y/N], who had been opening and closing her mouth like a fish blown out of water, finally stops trying to find words that just aren't there and instead drags her palm across her face in frustration. "I don't.." she says, sounding defeated, but really—now that she's faced with such confrontation, it's easier to admit to herself that maybe.. maybe she does fancy Malfoy.

Ron’s lips have split into a jubilant grin. ”I called it!" he says, smacking Harry's shoulder. "Bloody knew it!"

Hermione reaches out to rub [Y/N]'s back. "Don’t feel too bad about it, [Y/N]. I sort of knew—you looked at him differently after he confessed to you on the pitch."

[Y/N] sighs, realizing that no amount  of denying it will convince her friends. Or herself.

She does fancy Malfoy.

Properly acknowledging it—finally admitting it to herself—is oddly relieving. She’s been keeping her feelings cooped up inside of her chest despite the fact they are so much bigger than her, and now that she's letting them burst free.. now that she's coming to terms with them..

Well. It’s not the worst feeling ever.

Ron is still beaming, looking as though he's won the lottery. And apparently, in a way, he has: "Fred and George said it'd take you a month longer to give in. I said it'd take you less—guess I’ve won myself two galleons!"

[Y/N]'s mouth falls open. "You bet on this?"

Ron raises his eyebrows, as though surprised to hear that she didn't know. "Uh, I and the entire bloody castle."

Struck by a sudden burst of both annoyance and confidence, [Y/N], scowling, detaches herself from her friends and strides down the hallway towards Malfoy, full of intent. He hasn't noticed her yet; his back is still turned, but she catches up to him easily. And when she does, she unceremoniously bumps her shoulder into his and grabs his hand, quickly interlacing her fingers through his.

"What the hell—"

Malfoy, obviously taken aback, tries to pull his hand away, sneering, until his gaze lands on [Y/N].

"Keep walking, Malfoy," she says scathingly, not quite looking at him.

Baffled, Malfoy stares at her, then down at their hands, which are now tightly interlocked between them. [Y/N] scowls resolutely at the hallway ahead of her.

And then Malfoy laughs, more out of disbelief than amusement.

"Keep walking," [Y/N] repeats, this time turning to look at him, fighting to keep her gaze indifferent. The last thing she wants Malfoy to know is that there is an onslaught of tiny little butterflies rampaging in her stomach and a tingly feeling spreading from their hands all the way up her spine and into her heart.

Malfoy’s lips tug up into a wide grin—a real one, [Y/N] thinks. Not an arrogant smirk or a deprecating sneer; one that she can't ever recall seeing. But now that she has, she finds herself wishing he'd do it more often.

[Y/N] tugs him along as she walks, feeling the stunned stares of her friends boring into her skull from behind. (Ron is going to have a field day about this.)

"So," Malfoy begins, and she doesn't have to look at him to know that he's still grinning down at her. "Changed your mind, haven't you?"

[Y/N] rolls her eyes; she doesn't fail to notice the way that the students they're passing by are staring at them, eyes wide, whispering to themselves. "Isn’t this what you wanted?"

Malfoy shrugs. "Among other things."

She side-eyes him, muttering, "Does that include snogging?"

He makes an amused sound at the back of his throat. "You said it, not me."

[Y/N] has to grit her teeth to stop the corners of her lips from tugging up. They turn a corner down the hallway, disappearing from both their friends' views (assuming they haven't followed them). At this thought, [Y/N] takes a brief glance over her shoulder—and sure enough, there's a redhead peeking out of a group of very confused Ravenclaws.

Cursing Ron Weasley inside her head, she turns her gaze back ahead of her. ”I have Charms class next."

Malfoy raises his brows. "And what do you expect me to do with that information?"

"Walk me there," says [Y/N] briskly.

She can practically feel the surprise radiating off of the blond next to her. A moment later, he throws his head back in a loud laugh. "And you want me to be late to Transfiguration? It’s all the way on the other side of the castle."

[Y/N] hums. "Can’t even do that for the girl you fancy?"

There’s a beat of silence. His grip on her hand falters a little as he says, voice still nonchalant and yet at the same time holding an undeniable sense of sincerity, "I could if I knew she wasn't leading me on."

"She isn't," [Y/N] says, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

Malfoy is staring at her with his brows pulled in together just slightly at the middle, giving off the impression that he's trying to decide whether or not she's being serious. He slows down his pace until he comes to a full stop, urging [Y/N] to halt alongside him until they're standing in the middle of the hallway, oblivious to the stares following them and the redhead a mere few feet away.

"How do I know this isn't a prank?" says Malfoy, lip slowly curling as he narrows his eyes at her, the first few traces of suspicion etching itself onto his face now that the whole ridiculousness of the situation has finally sunken in. [Y/N] can't blame him; her antics—suddenly marching up to him in the hallway, grabbing his hand and walking with him as though they've been doing it for years—all of it is uncalled for after having ruthlessly turned him down so many times before. But [Y/N] can't delve into a discussion of her conflicting emotions—at least not right now—so she hopes, at least for now, that he will take her word for it.

She clears her throat.  "Well," she begins, looking down at their hands; Malfoy’s grip has gone slack. "If I wanted to hold your hand, I’d do it because I wanted to. Not because I wanted to get a rise out of you." She lets her gaze go back up to his, brows rising in familiar challenge. "I don't stoop that low, Malfoy. You’ve been in love with me for years—shouldn't you know that by now?"

There are a few seconds in which the blond standing before her still looks at her with a scrutinizing gaze, lips set into a thin, hard line and his eyes swimming with conflict that [Y/N] wouldn't have been able to see from afar, but sees in perfect clarity now that she's standing a mere foot away from him. But then, after what feels like ages, Malfoy nods, slowly, frown smoothing out into an expression of—could that be relief?

"I will be late for Transfiguration, you know," he says, lips quirking up into a grin.

[Y/N] laughs. (A real one, Draco thinks to himself.) This time she doesn't try to stop herself from smiling; just lets her lips do so of their own accord. It feels nice. Freeing. "Better just one of us than two, don't you think?" she says, mirroring his playful grin. "And besides, Goyle can stand in for you. You two do have quite the resemblance."

"Oh, sod off."

And it really is very odd, because everything about this shouldn't feel right; they've been enemies for the longest time, and a year ago, [Y/N] would have been revolted at the mere idea of ever coming close to Draco Malfoy—but it does. That is, it feels right. Like they've been this way for ages and this playful, harmless banter is the most natural thing.

Draco isn't perfect—Merlin, does he have a long way to go—but if he means to stop being a prat as long as [Y/N] is at his side, then she is willing to venture into whatever has formed between them.

And if this little bond is going to involve any more of this—this being her and Draco exaggeratedly swinging their arms between them as he walks her to Charms class with their fingers still intertwined, snickering, waiting for one of them to start complaining about their arm sockets hurting—then maybe it isn't the worst thing ever, after all.

[thetaoofzoe]

Fic: Syverson the Protector pt 5

*   Syverson The Protector - Part I (pairing Syverson x YOU)

*   Syverson the Protector - Part II (pairing Syverson x YOU)

*   Syverson the Protector - Part III  (pairing Syverson x YOU)

*   Syverson the Protector - Part IV  (pairing Syverson x YOU)

Author note: Finally part 5! Thank you so much for hanging in with me through this delightful journey and I hope that this part quenches your desire.

Summary:  Henry has invited you to spend a few weeks at his cabin in the mountains and of course you agree. 💖NEW💖

Rating for this part:  Sex, fluff, discussion of trauma (minor) Everyone has a good time and Aika is there too :)

I’ve picked ‘Henry’ as Syverson’s first name and he’s grown his hair out :D

Must be read in order, no part can stand alone.

Word count: 7500

Want to read more? Click for my Masterlist

‘Well,’ said your nurse as she watched you sort and pack your belongings. ‘If you want him to know how you feel, you have to tell him.’ 

She folded her arms and leaned against the narrow door frame to your hospital room. You glanced up at her. 

‘I’m not twelve, Barb,’ you scoffed, nevertheless feeling pleased with her observation.

‘Well you were the one asking me to pass notes to him like you were in school.’ 

You raised your brows in surprise and then pointed an accusatory finger at her. You had resorted to note passing because you couldn’t see Henry face to face and communicate with him like an adult. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but you made it work. 

‘You, Nurse Barb,’ you started, about to say something caustic and then relented, deciding to be sweet. ‘Did a great job passing notes, and I thank you.’ 

You flipped closed your small travel case and crossed the hospital room to grab at one of the slowly deflating helium ‘Get Well’ balloons which still listed lazily around the silver weight that held it in place. With a small pair of scissors, you cut the ribbon tether and lanced the mylar in an inconspicuous place. Pressing the balloon to your chest, you squeezed out the remainder of the helium air mix and added the now flat balloon to the pile of other flattened balloons. 

‘So? Then what are you going to do about it?’ Barb continued to press.  ‘Leave and regret never having said anything?’’

You stopped compacting the pile of deflated balloons and turned to look at her. 

This whole budding romance thing between two war torn lovers must have been the most exciting thing that had ever happened to the nurse, you thought pleasantly. It was certainly exciting to you. So, you cut her some slack. 

‘I just happen to know that he’s outside in the pool area right now. And, you have some time before your flight.’ 

The look on her face was both encouraging and infuriating. 

Smiling, you walked to the door and patted Barb’s shoulder. 

‘All right. I’ll go.’

She waggled her brows, turned and walked with you down the narrow corridor and then through the half-empty dayroom. She stopped at the double glass doors that led to the pool area and used her weight to press open one side.

‘I can’t tell if you’re a really good matchmaker or a really bad matchmaker,’ you said absently. 

She shrugged.  

‘Good luck, and don’t be too hard on him.’ 

‘I won’t. Well, I probably won’t. Well...I can’t promise.’ 

She chuckled and quickly gave you a one-armed hug. 

‘I’ll have them bring your bags to the car when it turns up. There are a few people going to the airport with you. So if I don’t see you… keep in touch, ok?’

You nodded and walked through the open door. 

The pool area, as they called it, was really just a collection of beach umbrellas shading colourful inflatable kiddie pools, some blowup flamingos, and an odd assortment of mismatched lawn chairs. There were several men camped out around most of the medium sized pools, with their feet in the water and enjoying each other’s company. You spotted Henry right off the bat, as he was the only one still in a wheelchair and paused a moment to watch him laugh at something the man next to him had just said. You were loath to interrupt them. 

I’ll just leave a note, you thought, turning your back to the men in order to return to the day room. He won’t mind. I’ll leave a note and my business card so he won’t feel pressured to say anything to my face.

A little lost in thought, you lingered there for a moment, with your hand on the door handle when your thoughts were interrupted by a chorus of teasing male voices calling out your name, accompanied by whistles and several coquettish sounding ‘yoo-hoo!’s. 

A wave of heat rushed into your face and you hunched your shoulders in a self-conscious cringe. 

Jesus Christ you hated military men sometimes.

 But you had been caught and you had no other choice but to turn around and face them. 

One of the men kicked out the empty lawn chair closest to Syverson and waved you over. Taking the invitation, you drew the chair close to the circle, lightly rested your hand on Henry’s shoulder and sat down next to him. It was good to see him looking so well. 

‘I read your new article,’ said the man, and by deciphering his medical wristband you learned he was called Solensky. ‘That was a damn brave thing you did.’ 

You shook your head and looked at Syverson, hoping that he didn’t think you were trying to steal glory.

‘I didn’t write it to showcase what I did. I had to tell people what really happened. How heroic the men were. And my partner. The sacrifices that they all made. What I did wasn’t important.’

‘Saving my life wasn’t important?’ 

Syverson sounded a little bit hurt and turning to him you were at a loss to read his suddenly cloudy expression. 

You opened your mouth to protest. 

‘I-- I didn’t mean that you… of course you are important. I just did what I had to.’

You held his incredulous gaze and continued, ‘you know that, Henry.’

Didn’t he believe you?

‘He don’t mean it like that,’ said Solensky. ‘He means that, you doing what you did, was important. Even if you don’t think it was.’ 

Henry obviously agreed with the man’s assessment, for a smile lifted the corner of his mouth and you cut a relieved and fondly exasperated  look at him. Sitting back in the creaky lawn chair you kicked your feet out in front of you and rested them against the cushy rounded pool edge. 

‘Thank you,’ you said finally and nodded to Solensky. ‘I had hoped to get it finished and published before I left.’ 

It felt good to hear some praise from the men you were trying to uplift. 

‘You leaving soon?’ he asked. 

‘Yes. Today. In a few hours in fact.’

You turned to face Henry again. 

‘I wanted to say goodbye before I did.’ 

His face remained unreadable and you feared that you had upset him in some way.

The door to the dayroom opened and Barb called to you. 

‘The car is here early. They have to do more stops, so you’ll have to leave now, I’m sorry.’

You shot Syverson a panicked look. 

Now? But you didn’t say all you wanted to say. You didn’t have time!

‘Ok,’ Henry said finally. ‘You don’t want to keep them waiting or they’re gonna have you walking home.’ 

He pressed himself up and out of the wheelchair and breathing a little hard from the exertion, he faced you when you stood as well.

‘I’m in your debt. Whenever you need me, for whatever reason, I want you to call on me. It don’t matter, you got that?’

‘I got it,’ you answered, feeling a deep pang of agony and regret in your gut. Leaving was harder than you had expected. 

Henry smiled then and curving his arms around you, he pulled you against his sun warmed body. 

And what torture it was for him to hold you like that! 

You put your head on his chest and embraced him in return. And, when you lifted your teary eyes, he leaned in and  kissed your forehead. But that wasn’t good enough. Not nearly enough and you squeezed him when his lips met yours. 

‘Ok… ok,’ you giggled, feeling hot faced and aroused. ‘You gotta stop that or I won’t be able to leave.’ 

He didn’t release you. 

‘You can stay and come home with me,’ he said, moving in for another kiss. 

You ducked your head and stepped out of his embrace. 

‘If you behave, maybe I will.’ 

Barb cleared her throat, a signal that you were out of time, and kissing him quickly, you turned to leave. 

‘Barb’ll give you my card. It’ll have my info on it.’

‘I will?’ she asked, glaring at you and then at him. ‘Boy, I’ll be glad when you leave and I can stop all of this note ferrying back and forth.’ 

‘See ya,’ said Henry. 

‘Soon,’ you promised and went through the day room doors. 

**

It had been six months. Six months of convalescing at home, writing columns and binge watching all of the television shows you missed while you were deployed. It had also been a pleasant six months of regular correspondence with Henry, which culminated in him asking you to come to the mountains with him for a few weeks. He had a little cabin in Montana which he had been renovating and now that Aika was finished with her mandatory quarantine in the States, he was going to go there and relax. 

A few weeks in the fresh mountain air was just what you needed and once you agreed, he made and paid for your travel arrangements. 

 **

It was refreshingly cool when you shuffled into the noise and chaos of the airport arrival terminal on your way to the baggage claim. However, you walked a little more leisurely than the hustling crowd, taking in the sights and idly people watching. As a journalist, although you had trekked through more airports than you cared to count, the peculiar culture of tiny, and expensive indoor pseudo-cities like this was still so compelling. It wouldn’t be strange to see a bleary eyed man chowing down on a stacked burger and swilling his third bourbon on the rocks at 6:30 in the morning. Or seeing a grown woman tucked into an awkward corner, and clutching her carry-on bag protectively in front of her as she tried to catch some sleep during an unexpected flight delay.

You had been both of those people at one point or another in your travels. But there was another reason why you were strolling and taking your time examining the mass produced keychains and tee shirts proclaiming the name of the state you were in. You were nervous and your heart banged painfully against your ribs. You could feel it galloping and straining against its internal tethers and you had to stop occasionally and pretend to look at overpriced pizza slices in order to catch your breath.

You were nervous about seeing him again. That sweet, unfairly handsome Captain Henry Syverson.

The thought of him made you smile but you pressed it into a straight neutral line in the event someone was watching. You didn’t want to seem crazy, grinning down at a display case of heat-lamp warmed slices of cheese pizza. 

When you finally reached baggage claim, a man, dressed in a dark suit and white shirt was waiting for you. He stood  with the rest of the chauffeurs looking bored and holding an open tablet on which your name stood out in bold block letters on the screen. You walked expectantly up to him and he smiled and greeted you by name.

‘How was your trip?’ he asked, as he walked  with you to the baggage carousel.

‘It was fine, thank you.’

And the two of you stood side by side watching the conveyor belt start to move and roll out the luggage.

‘Which one is yours?’ he asked, moving closer to the belt, ready to snag your bag as it tumbled by.

‘The red one, with the white stripe. It has the camera shaped luggage tag.’

He nodded and when that red bag came by, he grabbed it by the side handle. He then put it down, pulled up the telescoped handle and indicated that you follow him to the parking lot. Outside, the cool air woke you from your flight induced stupor and you took in a long cleansing breath. 

‘First time in Montana?’ he asked, grinning as he watched you stretch your arms and back. 

‘Just tired,’ you said. ‘Long flight.’ 

He opened the door to the glossy black SUV and helped you step up into the high spotless interior. Through the back window you watched him stow your suitcase in the trunk and followed him with your eyes until he climbed into the truck.

‘So,’ he said and fiddled with his tablet. ‘It’s going to take a little while to get to the destination. Is it warm enough for you? Too warm? There are snacks in the centre console and water under the seat. Do you mind if I have the radio on?’

The questions seemed rehearsed and you assured him that everything was fine before you sat back into the plush leather seats and he drove off.

Taking out your mobile, you switched it off of airplane mode and it immediately pinged that you had a message.

Making sure you landed safely.

You smiled and replied that you had done just that and were already on your way.

I’ll be waiting. I hope you’re hungry.

The driver was right. It took two and a half hours to get to the cabin and the last mile or so was on a dirt road so pitted and bumpy that you weren’t sure you were going to come out of the ride in one piece.

But it was all made better when you spotted Henry standing with Aika on the broad porch of a gorgeous mountain cabin. When he said that he wanted you to spend time with him at the cabin, you immediately pictured it to be a one or two room Little House on the Prairie type place. Which was absolutely fine with you, as you wouldn’t be there to admire the decor. However, you were not expecting the beautiful structure that stood proudly amongst the trees.

The driver slowed, made an awkward k-turn in the dirt and deposited you directly in front of the tall man approaching the truck.

The sight of Henry made you feel weak and proud to show the driver that you had been chosen by a superior specimen. Henry briefly spoke to the driver through his open window and the trunk popped open. With hands clasped in your lap, you waited. Henry grabbed your suitcase, slammed shut the trunk and then opened your door. He positively beamed at you and when you took his outstretched hand, you felt like a princess being rescued from a high tower.

When the SUV made its way back down the dirt road and the two of you were finally alone, you were faced with one of two decisions.

One: behave in your usual awkward way and shake his hand or pat his shoulder and thank him for letting you come and visit.

Or

Two: press into his arms and give him the biggest hello I fucking missed you, kiss he’d ever received.

With some internal dismay, you found yourself leaning towards option one. You didn’t want to lead him to the wrong impression about you and slowly you extended your hand.

A look of surprise drifted across his face, but he was apparently willing to follow your lead. Before he could take that hand, you had a change of heart and instead ran straight at him and clamped your arms about his waist.

‘Hey, baby,’ he murmured, kissing the top of your head and enveloping you in his strong arms.

Oh God, you thought. I’m gonna start crying.

Tears pricked your eyes and before you could stop yourself, you heaved with a desperate sob.

‘What’s the matter?!’ he asked, sounding alarmed with the sudden change in your attitude.

You clutched him tighter and put your face against him.

‘I’m… I’m so happy to see you standing right here,’ you gasped.

The last time you’d seen him in the flesh, he had still been mostly confined to a wheelchair, still healing from his terrible wounds and unable to look after himself. But there he was now, strong and whole and so warm in your arms that you felt an overwhelming sense of affection for him. 

Henry held you tighter and you felt infinitely safe in his embrace. Everything was right with the world. 

‘I thought about the moment I could do this,’ he said, gently stroking your back. ‘And now I made you cry.’

‘I’m just so happy to see you well,’ you said, pulling back and looking at his wryly smiling face. ‘And not hooked up to wires and IVs.’

‘Ok,’ he drawled. ‘Me too. In that case…’

He curved one hand about your cheek and lifting your face, he kissed you. It took a few more moments of cuddling before you eventually stopped trembling and having an existential crisis. He drew back, bent down and picked up your bag. 

‘You hungry?’ he asked, slipping his hand down to your lower back and guiding you to the glorious cabin. 

‘Famished!’ you announced and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. 

The dog on the porch sat up and wriggled with pleasure, her thick furry tail whapping excitedly on the wooden boards. 

Henry dragged his fingers through the thick brown and black scruff and scratched her angular head. The dog bowed and flattened her ears softly and approached you. You put both hands on her head and massaged her fluffy ears. 

‘I remember you,’ you said to the dog who continued to eagerly lick at your hands.

‘This place is different than where she’s from, but she loves it.’ 

Then to Aika he said, ‘stay on the porch.’

And the dog promptly flopped down on the cushiony bed made from folded quilts and began her surveillance of the surrounding tranquil woods. 

Henry opened the cabin door and ushered you in. 

The inside was just as spectacular as the outside and your mouth came open with surprise. 

‘I know you did all of this, didn’t you. It’s so… beautiful.’

‘I had help,’ he answered modestly. ‘It’s been a work in progress for years. Still got some things to do, but it’s liveable.’

Liveable, you scoffed silently. That was an understatement. The place was an obviously handcrafted masterpiece. From the matte blonde wood flooring and the warm caramel panelling, it was a masculine tribute to a rustic lifestyle. The appliances were new, but understatedly retro and wood burning. The main living room was broad and comfortable with soft couches and homespun appointments. You followed Henry down a narrow hallway to the left. Off of that hallway was a short staircase that led to the upper floor. 

‘There’s a guest bedroom down there,’ he said pointing to the door at the end of the corridor and the master is upstairs.’

He gestured that you go up the stairs and you complied. Opening the door at the top of the stairs, you found yourself walking into a bright warm room with a large bed facing a broad clean window that overlooked the trees and the lake behind the cabin. It smelt of pine and you wondered if he picked that scent because he thought you might like it. You did like it. 

Henry put your bag on the floor by the bed. 

‘This is your room.’ 

He rested a hand on the glossy dresser top which had been pushed against the far wall. 

‘You can put your stuff in here, or hang them up in the closet.’ 

He opened the door next to the dresser to show you the empty closet space. 

‘Bathroom’s over here.’ 

He crossed the room, opened the second door and you poked your head in, pleased to see a full bath and tub.

That tub might come in handy for sexytimes. 

Once the tour was completed you smiled at him, but left the question of where he was going to stay to burn on the tip of your tongue. 

It didn’t stay there long for Henry beat you to it. 

‘I’ll be downstairs… in the guest room.’ 

There was hesitation in his voice and he trailed off seeming suddenly shy and awkward. 

Was he as nervous about your visit as you were?

 He didn’t look at you as he put a hand against the back of his head, which you knew  was an unconscious self-soothing gesture. But you didn’t want to put him out of his misery just yet. You were enjoying it too much. 

‘If… when you need me,’ he finished.  

The implication of needing him, at night, hung heavily in the air and trailing a finger up his bare forearm, you squashed a smile. 

‘And you’ll be downstairs…’ you said, keeping your voice serious and your expression neutral. ‘If… I mean when I need you. You’ll be downstairs? In the guest bedroom? Downstairs?’

He looked at you a moment, his own expression a mild mix of confusion and then that sweet slow bloom of understanding in his eyes. You saw the exact moment that he realised you were teasing him and you couldn’t help laughing. 

‘C’mon you,’ you said, slipping your hand into his. ‘I’m starving.’ 

***

Once downstairs, he packed a big red-topped cooler with vegetables and potatoes and steaks that had been marinating overnight, as well as cutlery, plates and other sundry items. Carrying only a chilled six pack of bottled lager, you followed him down the winding gravel path to the lake. There was a rustic firepit down there flanked by two dark wood adirondack chairs and a picnic table. 

You wondered if he made all of that himself and then chuckled. Of course he did.

 You watched him dump the cooler next to the grated firepit and go to grab a few already split logs from a nearby pile. Clutching the thin cardboard handle of the sixpack in both hands you felt unbearably girly and unwilling to admit that watching him start a fire with a small pile of tinder and a magnesium firestick, aroused the fuck out of you. It didn’t help that his jeans stretched nicely across his thighs when he crouched lower and gently blew onto the young flame before quickly adding additional fuel until the fire was stable enough to tent the logs over it. 

Henry rose and dusted his hands against the seat of his jeans and you cleared your throat. 

‘That was sexy,’ you said and laughed at your own audacity. 

He glanced at you over his shoulder, clearly appreciative of your praise, but instead of addressing it, he pointed to the short pier. 

‘Do you see the green nylon sack over there?’

You looked and nodded. 

‘Take the bottles and put ‘em in the sack and lower it into the water. That’ll keep ‘em cold.’ 

Feeling helpful, you did as you were told. When you returned a few minutes later, you hoisted yourself up onto the top of the picnic table and rested your feet on the bench seat.

‘Do you want some help?’ you asked after a moment. 

‘Nope,’ he answered, and cast another amused look at you over his shoulder. ‘You just sit there and be pretty for me, ok?’

You preened, and lightly patted your face. It was as pretty as you were going to get. 

‘I think I can do that. Sure.’ 

And you sat there thinking about having children with him. You imagined taking them on camping trips and teaching them all of the survival skills they needed to fend for themselves in the event the zombie apocalypse drove your family into the woods. So you asked him if he was prepared for the apocalypse and sat there rapt as he explained his six point plan and how he had been planning and storing for the last three years. 

When dinner was ready, the two of you ate at the picnic table and drank most of the beer and discussed the pros and cons of wasting ammo to achieve a head shot as opposed to just disabling the zombie so that you could escape it. 

‘Yeah, but you are the one who’s gonna get the successful headshots. I’m just out there swinging a rake or something.’ 

‘Can get you a katana if you like.’

You laughed and swigged your beer. Pointing the mouth of the bottle at him you scoffed. 

‘A katana?? I’d more likely slice myself up before I’d do any damage to a zombie.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Henry replied easily and stood up to stoke the fire. 

He helped himself to another few spoonfuls of vegetables, which when offered, you declined. 

‘A little training and some practice, you’d be fine.’ 

‘You have a lot of misplaced faith in me, sir,’ you teased him. 

Henry was quick to answer. 

‘You’re wrong. You already proved to be capable, ingenious and tougher than you think. I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.’

Your chest tightened at the traumatic  memory and you stared down at your empty bottle.  The helpless tears started to threaten again. 

But biting them back, you reached across the table and put your hand over his. Henry took it, curved your fingers over his and brought your hand to his lips.

Henry’s open emotion made you feel just as raw and vulnerable as you had that fateful day. The day that entwined your lives together forever. 

You reached for him with your other hand and stroked his cheek, trailing your fingers through his beard which continued to amaze you with how soft it was to touch. He captured your other hand and kissed that one as well and then held them both. And when he smiled, you smiled in return. It was all right now. 

It was starting to get dark and across the lake,  you could see the setting sun disappearing behind the mountains. Henry got up and began clearing the table. 

 ‘ Go and sit by the fire,’ he instructed you when you tried to help. 

If he wanted to do all of the work, who were you to stop him. You slid onto the cool chair and drew your knees up and to the side to get comfortable just as Aika came trotting out of the woods. She went immediately to you and put her slobbery chin on your thigh. You rubbed her furry head until she was tired of the attention and went to beg scraps from Henry. 

‘Coffee?’ he asked a moment later and lifted an old battered tin percolator to show you that he meant coffee and not anything else. 

‘I could have one, sure.’ 

You had got used to black coffee during your time on the front and really never bothered to change it when you went back to civilian life. The cup he gave you was hot and tasted fresh with a hint of vanilla. 

‘Vanilla,’ you said and he chuckled, seating himself in the chair next to you. 

‘I ah… I got used to it over there, now I can’t drink any other kind.’ 

You didn’t mind it. Not at all and the two of you sat in companionable silence. 

‘It’s a beautiful place, Henry. A beautiful cabin. I am amazed that you did all of this.’

‘My friends helped. This is their place when they want it too.’

Aika flopped down on the space between the chairs and Henry reached down to pat her head. 

‘Are you glad I’m here?’ you asked finally, admittedly fishing a little for compliments. 

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’m very glad you’re here.’ 

You were going to say something else but a yawn caught you off guard. Now that you were full and content and safe, sleepiness began to creep in around the corners. 

‘You had a long flight,’ Henry offered as explanation, holding out his hand to take your cup. ‘If you want to go on in to sleep, I’ll take care of things here out here.’ 

‘No! No, I don’t want to leave. I’m not too sleepy.’ 

‘Awright,’ he chuckled and leaned back into the chair. 

Aika yawned then and you did the same. You put the cup on the flat arm of the chair and closed your eyes. You had never felt so happy and before you knew it, you had drifted off. When you woke with a start later, it was dark and the fire had been extinguished. A glimmer of faint stars reflected by the lake was your only anchor point that confirmed where you were. 

But it was the type of dark that could only be achieved when there was no light pollution from nearby cities and you felt a twinge of panic. 

‘Henry?’ you called sitting up. 

He wasn’t in the chair next to you and Aika was gone. 

Shit! What if the killer was still out there?

You heard footsteps approaching on the gravel path. 

‘I’m here.’ 

His voice was warm and steady. 

There was no moon and standing, you blindly searched in front of you as he came closer. He put his hand around you, resting it low on your back then pulled you to him. At his touch, a jolt of welcomed pleasure spread out from your core. 

‘Why are you out here lurking in the dark?’ you giggled softly, pressing your hands flat on his chest.

‘Making sure nothing carries you off,’ he replied just as quietly and gave you a squeeze. 

Henry was clearly feeling for the edges of your boundaries and you deeply appreciated that about him. He hadn’t forced your hand and he was eagerly playing by your rules. 

‘I’m glad to have my big strong protector to save me from the monsters. Are you… gonna take me inside now?’

‘Yeah. C’mon.’ 

God, his voice was so unbearably soft and alluring and you knew that if you weren’t careful, you would find yourself beneath him in his bed tonight. 

You had to be careful, so once inside the cabin, you kissed him and bade him goodnight. Admittedly, that probably wasn’t how he expected the evening to end but you knew you were going to make the wait worth his while.

After showering thoroughly, you changed your clothes and sat down on the edge of the soft bed. The cabin was quiet except for the normal sounds of the woods coming in through the open window and the sounds of Henry moving around downstairs. 

I could get used to this. 

After a moment you heard the shower running downstairs and you immediately worried that you hadn’t left enough hot water for him. Stretching out on top of the quilt you listened and imagined his naked body, his wet, soapy naked body and a tingle raced up your thighs and pooled insistent heat in your groin. You bit your lip and pushed your hand between your legs. You held your hand there, still and unmoving and listened until everything had fallen silent on the lower floor.  

You breathed quietly, in and out and in and out again and relaxed, drawing your hand away and tucking it across your midsection. 

Sleep, you thought. It was all going to be more rational in the morning. 

**

Bright sunlight and sweet bird songs greeted you the next morning. After washing up, you followed the scent of coffee and breakfast downstairs. 

The front room was empty, but there was food and a still steaming coffee pot on the stove. The sound of Aika barking outside led you to the door and then out onto the porch. Henry stood at the bottom of the steps holding a red ball which he launched into the air for the dog to chase. He turned when you came to stand next to him. 

‘Morning,’ he grinned and kissed you when you lifted your face to ask for it. 

‘Hi. How did you sleep?’

‘Yeah, good, good. You?’

You stretched in the warm morning sunlight and fondly watched Aika race back to you. She dropped the ball and danced away, to wait for the next missile. Henry obliged and the dog took off again. 

‘It was better than I expected,’ you admitted happily. ‘It usually takes me a couple of nights before I can get comfortable in a new place.’ 

He nodded and took a drink from his flowered cup. 

‘Good. Hungry?’

‘I love that you’re always feeding me,’ you said joyfully. ‘Can we eat down by the lake?’

‘Anything you want, baby,’ he agreed. 

The air by the lake was warm and fresh and a few metres out on the water was a group of ducks having a morning swim. Basking in the sun with a hearty meal and an intriguing and funny man was the most indulgent thing you could have possibly done. And you held onto the moment for as long as it presented itself. 

You even agreed to a short easy hike after breakfast and in a sun drenched meadow you lay in the sweet smelling grass and talked about nothing in particular. 

The day passed in uneventful bliss and again, Henry prepared dinner over the fire and afterwards the two of you sat side by side on the top porch step to watch some unexpected fireworks in the eastern sky. 

During a lull in the colourful explosions, you went inside to grab a seat cushion.

When you came onto the porch, you were careful not to kick the cup at Henry’s side. Instead you picked up your own cup and gesturing for him to make room, you tossed down the cushion and sat on the step right between his knees. A little smile blossomed on your face, a response to the feeling of peace spreading through you, and you leaned back against Henry using his thighs as arm rests.

‘I like this,’ you said quietly and relaxed into the warm hands gently kneading your shoulders. 

‘Yeah.’

The sound of him, low and husky behind you, filled you with pleasure. You pressed harder between his open legs and he went still. This was the moment of truth.  Your heart thrummed with anticipation against your ribs and when he relaxed, so did you. 

A beat of silence drifted between you and then he spoke. 

‘You wanna go inside with me?’

There was a loud scratching sound of your nails raking along his jeans, evidence of your involuntary reaction to his clear invitation. 

‘Yes. I-- want to.’ 

The breath he let out was audible. 

‘C’mon then.’ 

Henry pushed himself up from the step and effortlessly lifted you in the process. It was like floating on air, reckless yet safe in his strong arms and when your feet finally hit the porch, you were loath to be released. You turned around to face him and slid your arms about his neck. The force of his kiss surprised you, and you clung tighter to him, opening your mouth to take all of him in. Henry pulled you against him and walked backwards towards the cabin door. 

You cried out with delight when he crouched and swept you up into his arms. Just like the charming prince he touted himself to be. 

‘I love this,’ you murmured, nipping at his lower lip and then suckling it between your own. ‘Why don’t you fuck me in your bed.’

‘Fuck,’ he groaned and clutched you to his chest. ‘You’re gonna drive me crazy, baby.’ 

‘I promise I’ll drive you crazy.’ 

Henry didn’t waste time in carrying you to the small bedroom at the end of the hall.  

His room was clean, and quiet. Not as fancy as the master bedroom, but it was  enough with its bed and bureau and the small adjoining shower. Aika, who had been napping on the floor at the foot of the bed perked up and cautiously thumped her tail as if wondering why the hell the two humans were making so much noise. 

‘Aika,’ said Henry desperately. ‘Out!’

With a groan of a petulant child, the dog heaved herself up and reluctantly left the room. Henry booted the door shut behind her and then set you down onto your feet. There was enough gloaming light coming in through the windows for you to see him grin. 

He cupped your face between his hands and kissed you gently, thoroughly and then let his fingers trail down over your shoulders, your arms and then across your waist where he curled his fingers beneath the hem of your baggy tee shirt. Instinctively you raised your arms when he lifted the shirt up and over your head. He tossed the shirt onto the chair in the corner. He then  turned you around and unhooked your bra which was also tossed to join the shirt. And still keeping your back to him, he kissed your shoulder and then the other and then kissed the space between them. The light scratch of his beard on such an unexpectedly tender place made you shiver and your nipples harden. He hummed quietly, a sound of absolute satisfaction and he nipped you lightly where your shoulder sloped down to your collarbone. You sighed voluptuously and leaned into his muscular chest, turning your upper body slightly and reaching back to smooth your hand over his head. 

Henry slipped his hands up from your waist and cupped your bare breasts and kissed you deeply as if trying to drink in every bit of you. You felt utterly possessed, and helpless in the face of his overwhelmingly masculine sexual power. You would give him everything, anything and all he had to do was ask. 

He slid his hands down your belly again and into the elastic waistband of your shorts. He eased them over your hips and chased your curves to the warm, velvety space between your legs. Highly aware of his two thick fingers beginning to work into your wetness you arched and moaned breathlessly, your voice rising sweetly into the warmth of the room. A dark knowing chuckle rumbled behind you and Henry dragged his tongue across your lower lip. 

All of your attention narrowed to that single delicious focal point of those deft fingers stroking your quivering clit and sliding deeper inside you. 

‘I want you,’ Henry murmured and the demand behind his words made you shudder. ‘I want you so bad.’ 

Yes, you thought. I want you. The moment I met you, I wanted you. I’ve always wanted you.

You turned in his arms and a wave of lust crashed over you at the sight of him. He slipped those two previous busy fingers into his mouth and sucked off your juice. You crooked a finger at him, beckoning him closer as you backed towards the bed. Henry whipped off his shirt and took his time unbuckling his belt and shoving down his jeans until he could stand beautifully naked before you, his thick beautiful cock hard and standing at the ready. 

You were ready for him indeed. Henry closed the space between you and grabbing you about the waist, he hoisted you up and sprawled you messily across the bed. You sat up, reached for him and dragged him down atop you. He was heavy, and pressed you steadily into the soft sheets and you never wanted to escape him. Henry kissed you hard, punishingly, muffling your sudden cry of pleasure with his mouth. You hugged and kissed him and swore under your breath, eager for the soft velvety feel of his  blood-hot cock sliding up along your inner thigh. 

‘Come inside me, Henry.’ 

It was all the invitation he needed. 

The newness of him sliding into you hurt just a little, a small but  welcomed reminder of what it meant when two lovers finally joined. Henry stilled then, and breathed quietly, as if fighting his urge to cum. You stroked his shoulders and kissed his face, encouraging him to focus only on you. He lifted his head and held your gaze as he rocked up into you again, then again, slowly and deliberately, stoking that fire smouldering between the two of you. You arched against him, vaguely aware of your own lusty sounds and Henry increased the intensity of his thrusts and in turn heightened the ferocity of your pleasure.

Henry lit your fuse and it consumed you. It crackled over your sensitive flesh and along every nerve ending and you responded eagerly to every slow drag of his cock in and out of you.  He made you feel alive, more alive than ever before and at the moment of your orgasm you closed your eyes and let his name escape your lips, offering it up as a prayer, as praise. As thanks. 

You held onto him when he finally completed the circuit and poured himself inside you. 

It took several moments of panting beneath him before Henry moved off of you and you immediately felt the loss. So you lay there, sweat cooling on your skin and basking in the warm feelings of well being. When your senses returned, you got up and went to the bathroom for  a quick pee and wash up and when you returned, the bed was turned down and you crawled gratefully beneath the soft sheets. 

‘That was fucking amazing,’ you murmured to the man next to you. ‘That was the best sex I have ever had.’ 

Henry chuckled and sounded pleased. 

‘Yeah. I waited a long time for you.’ 

‘Oh yeah? The moment I put my hand in yours outside of the barracks, you what? Wanted to carry me off to fuck me?’

He grunted. 

‘Yeah! Something like that. I would’ve at least got your name first, /then/ put you over my shoulder and carried you off.’ 

You smiled to yourself and imagined the scene and how shocked the men would have been to watch their stoic captain haul off the journalist for a little fun. You closed your eyes, only intending to get more comfortable to continue the conversation. However, again sleep had other ideas. 

Light burst behind your eyelids and the sound of shouting male voices filled your ears. You struggled to open your eyes, but something was holding them sealed shut. Another explosion and then the sound of rocks raining down all around you. I’m on fire, you thought, desperately trying to claw your way out of burning clothes. Your hands were already seared into talons of fused flesh and bone and there was nothing you could do to stop the pain. Sand blasted your vulnerable flesh and you opened your mouth to scream, only to be choked by tiny merciless shards of hot glass. You continued to scream and scream barely aware of the hands on your arms and the voice calling you name. It was Henry and he was shaking you out of your nightmare. 

‘You’re all right, baby. You’re all right,’ he murmured pulling you against him. ‘It’s just a nightmare. You’re all right now. I’m here.’ 

As the dream melted away, you curled up into his arms and burst into tears. Henry gentled you until you quieted and even beyond that until eventually you were able to speak. 

‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry…’ 

‘Don’t be sorry, baby,’ he whispered. ‘Don’t be. I’m here. I’ll protect you.’ 

You lifted your tear wet face and kissed him. Then again and again, rolling onto your back and pulling him with you. 

‘Make love to me, Henry. Please. Make love to me.’

‘I’ll take care of you,’ he promised.

And you trusted him to do just that. 

**

The morning rain kept the two of you inside the snug cabin and in bed where you took your time exploring and delighting in the mystery of each other. 

‘Does it still hurt?’ you asked, pulling back the sheets and stroking your fingers along the thick jagged scar that cut across his lower belly.  

Henry looked down at where you were touching him and shook his head. 

‘No. Not anymore.’ 

You fell silent, listening to the rasp of your dry fingers gliding across his skin. Henry curled an arm about you when you put your head on his shoulder. 

‘You never went to talk to someone about it, did you.’ 

It wasn’t a question and as much as you wanted to feign ignorance, you couldn’t shut down your immediate and visceral reaction to his observation. 

No. You had buried yourself in work the moment you got back to the States and didn’t want to think about the trauma that had befallen you. What was the point? It was over, wasn’t it?

Henry felt your body tense and he rubbed your back. 

‘That’s why you’re still having nightmares.’ 

Your voice was small when you spoke, hoping to be heard against the lashing rain. 

‘I thought I could handle it.’ 

He chuckled. 

‘I know. I thought I could handle it too. They don’t let us go home without group therapy. I fucking hate it, but I do it, because it works.’ 

You stopped the back and forth motion of your hand and just rested it on his scar. It was the thing that drew you together, the thing that reminded him of you.

Henry turned his head and kissed your forehead. 

‘You’re so strong. And you’re carrying this weight. But you gotta let it go, baby.’  

‘I know. I… dream about you dying in the explosion and then burning to death. I can’t stop it. I can’t help you.’

Henry held you close. 

‘You’re alive and I’m alive. I’m right here with you. You don’t have to worry when you’re with me.’

 You slept against his chest for most of the day and dreamed, not of violence in a desolate place but of a bright new future. 

-end part 5 you naughty little things. I love you ;D Please consider helping me to broaden my audience by reblogging this fic and sharing. Thank you. 

Tag list:  @lightsidecalling​​  @omgkatinka​​ @igotkatiepowers​​ @the-soot-sprite​​  @harrysthiccthighss​​ @little-green-love​​ @foxyjwls007​​  @angreav​​ @maizyistrash @liquorlaughslove @supernaturallymarvellous​​ @laketaj24​​ @october505​​ @inlovewithhisblueeyes​​ @foodieforthoughts​​ @wolvesandhoundshowltogether​​ @singeramg​​ @sapphirescrolls​​   @brandycranby​​ @zealoushound​​ @eldarwen333​​ @beck07990​​ @lunedelorient​​ @henrythickcavill​​ @kalesrebellion​​​ @angrythingstarlight​​​ @lavitabella87 @kebabgirl67​ @hail-horror-queen​

[specialagentlokitty]

Aizawa x reader - With you again

A/N: I posted this on my Wattpad and since I’m here again I decided it was gonna be my first post in while aha! I hope you guys enjoy and I’m glad to be back I missed you all!!

You sat atop of the stone, swinging your legs as you gently kicked it.

The place was quiet, except the crunching of the leaves getting closer and closer until the figure stopped in front of you.

He was wearing his usual hero getup, the same thing he wore when he visited you every single time.

“Hey Shouta.” You smiled sadly.

The man stared at the stone underneath you and crouched down, he pulled his hands from behind hands back and pulled out some flowers, gently setting them down with a sigh.

“Sorry I couldn’t bring your flowers last week.” He said softly.

“It’s okay, I understand.” You replied.

“Ah, what am I saying. You probably wouldn’t mind, you were understanding like that.”

You chucked, getting down, you sat in front of the stone facing him, while he sat facing the stone.

You could see how tired he was, how worn down and hopeless he seemed.

“I know it’s stupid, but I wish heaven had visiting hours...” he mumbled, “maybe I could see you once more...”

You sighed softly, bringing your legs up to your chest, you wrapped your arms around them and watched him.

Aizawa ran a hand through his hair, burying his face into his scarf as tears collected in his eyes.

“I can’t keep coming back here. I think this will be the last time I visit (Y/N). But I promise I’ll see you again, I swear.”

You watched him stand up with sadness in your eyes, standing up, you titled your head a little to look up at the man in front of you.

Raising a hand, you placed it on his cheek, smiling brightly, you let a tear slip down your face.

“You do what you need to darling, it’s perfectly fine. I’m sorry.”

He left as you were speaking and it let your hand fall, turning around you left for the white light behind you.

You finally entered heaven, years of standing there, you crossed over, sitting up the fluffy clouds as you peaked over the edge, looking at the city running below.

That’s how you spent your time, sitting there, just watching, keeping an eye on things.

You were walking back to your spot when an angel stopped you, a warm smile on his face as he held a slip of paper out to you.

Without a word he left, and you opened it with confusion.

Head back to your grave, it’s a special day

Shrugging, you made your way to the gate and held the note out to the angel blocking it.

“Ah, right, sorry.”

He stepped away and let you go through, you appeared in front of your grave once more. Looking around orange leaves scattered the place, but it was getting late.

You saw three familiar figures getting closer, your three high school friends come over, all dressed nicely in suits, balloons and flowers in their hands.

“Happy birthday!” Hizahsi said softly.

His usual happy appearance was replaced with sadness as he set his presents down.

“I hope you’re having a good time in heaven (Y/N), I hope you have an amazing birthday.” He said.

“Thanks Hashi...”

Toshinori stepped up this down, placing the balloons next to the tombstone down.

“Happy birthday (Y/N), we miss you a lot. Hopefully you’re doing well, and that you’re having fun.”

“I am Toshi, it’s so cool.”

Aizawa stood there, his two friends pat his back.

“We’ll go.” Toshinori whispered.

“Take your time Shouta.” Hizashi whispered next.

The two retreated and Aizawa stayed there, flowers in his hands like the last time you saw him. Except this time he was stood in a full suit, his hair neatly combed back and tied up showing his face, and the new scar under his eye.

“Always getting hurt.” You chuckled.

His eyes snapped up, locking with yours, the flowers fell from his hands.

“(Y...y/N)....”

Your eyes widened this time, hand flying to cover your mouth as you sank to your knees.

“Y..you can... you can see me...?” You whispered.

He didn’t move or speak, he kept his eyes glued on to you and dropped to his knees, tears steaming from his eyes.

You shuffled closer, his eyes watching your every movement, reaching out, you hesitantly went to touch his face.

You expected your hand to go right through, but it didn’t. It came in contact with his warm skin.

“N..no way...” you laughed in disbelief.

“This isn’t possible... there’s no way...” Aizawa whispered.

He reached up, his hand reaching for yours , gently he covered it.

He seemed to be trying to process this and he stayed quiet for a few moments. He smiled softly, closing his eyes as tears slipped out.

“You’re just as beautiful as ever.”

You laughed, reaching up you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly and letting him do the same.

“You’re so grown up now Shouta... but you haven’t changed one bit..”

“Neither have you kitten...”

Aizawa presses a kiss to the top of your head. It felt like you had always been there with him, but you were still in your early 20s, and you were as cold as ice, reminding him that you weren’t there anymore.

“I don’t know how long we have Shouta..”

“It’s okay, any time with you is enough for me.”

Aizawa pulled away, but he still held you against his chest, looking up at the cloudy sky above him, he smiled once more before turning back to you.

“So much as changed (Y/N), a lot has changed.”

“Maybe you can tell me about it.”

“I will when I’m with you again, promise.”

Aizawa sighed and closed his eyes, trying to burn al of this into his brain. He could feel your body fading.

Bringing your chin up with a finger, he gently kissed your cold lips and gave you the biggest smile he could muster. A smile he had only for you.

“I wish heaven had visiting hours.”

You looked at your hands, watching them turn back to transparent, you looked at him again, smiling sadly.

“I do too...” you whispered, “stay safe okay? And tell the other that too, and I love them.”

“As long as you’ll wait for me.”

You body vanished from view, but he caught your voice on the breeze.

“I’ll always wait for you, I love you.”

Aizaw got up from the ground, wiping his tears he took a deep breath, and looked forward, stuffing his hands into his pocket he pulled out a small box.

“I love you too, take care of this. I need it for when I come up.”

He set the box down and stayed there another few moments before he started to leave, the ring box was open, showing the gleam of a beautiful diamond rings just sat on the floor.

One moment it was there, the next it was gone, and you held it in your hand tightly to your chest, watching the man you loved walk away, a smile on your face

[hes-writer]

Birthday

Summary: harry forgets y/n's birthday

Warnings: angst and fluff if you squint

Word Count: 2871 words

A/N: I’m tired. My head hurts (sucky ending ahead)

___

How silly was it to stare at a phone in anticipation for hours, waiting for it to buzz and light up with a simple banner stating ‘happy birthday!’ from your closest friends? It was a sad reality for Y/N. She was never very outspoken, often opting to keep to herself and speak only when she was comfortable. Friends were a touchy topic because she had lost so many in the past that she didn’t bother making new ones for the sake of not going through another fallen friendship.

What was the point of going through the cycle over and over again if Y/N knew the dreaded ending? She was better off saving herself from heartbreak and stick with the true friends she had.

For the past years, Y/N’s closest friends brought her joy and animated presents to celebrate her birthday. She appreciated them very much, declaring that they only had to give her greetings and she would be happy. They cared so much until they didn’t. Was it because of quarantine that they failed to realize what day it was? Were they busy with work? Were they finishing up a university project worth half of their marks? Did they forget? Y/N wondered what changed.

Having stability within herself was something that she always struggled with. As much as she tried to convince herself that she is important and that she’s worth it—Y/N knew that it was only a matter of time before all those reassurances blew up in her face.

Sometimes she feels as though she cared too much, expected too much and got nothing in return. It wasn’t a competition; really, it wasn’t. Y/N didn’t want to sound entitled but the fact that she remembered the important days and the special occasions, bringing gifts and cheery greetings only to have nothing but empty silence when the day was about her hurt more than a metal scooter to her ankle bone. 

And for the sake of it, Y/N forced herself to understand that her friends didn’t remember. They were still her friends even if she hasn't spoken to them in a while. Their life didn’t revolve around her even if it felt like she dedicated too much of hers caring for them and making sure that they felt good about themselves. Y/N hated to see them sad, doubting themselves to the point where she had to step in—too irritated to bite her tongue because they didn’t deserve to be put down that way whether it was by their own thoughts or somebody else’s.

It was a completely different story with Harry. She and Harry have been together for three years and counting, sharing memories between the two; affection, intimacy and caressing touches imprinted on one another’s skin. He was the most amazing person Y/N had ever met; always pleasing others but knowing when to draw the line. He was both logical and affectionate, never letting his heart rule too heavy on his decisions but always using his head to think it through.

Recently, Y/N felt as if their relationship was taking a low. She wasn’t too concerned because it had happened before and a simple, meaningful talk was often what she and Harry needed to get back on the right track for a long-lasting relationship. The days were passing by continuously, sometimes even confusing her until she found something to look forward to. Her birthday.

—-

The rays battled through the blinds, blinding her with faint yellow sunshine yet Y/N could see the clouds covering the sky, indicating that it was cloudy and frankly, a little bit cold today.

She yawned, pressing her fists against her eye to knuckle on them, rubbing the sleep out before stretching them outwards. She expected to hit a body laying beside her, Harry, but she was met with open-air and a sudden chill enveloping her body despite the thick comforter laying on top of her.

Y/N pressed her palms on the mattress. The creases imprinting indents on her skin as she pushed herself up slightly in alarm. Sure enough, Harry’s side of the bed was empty, wrinkled with his movements from sleep but he was nowhere to be found. His usual humming habits didn’t echo from the bathroom, nor did his constant yelps of clothes falling off the rack reverberate from the walk-in closet. She concluded that maybe he was in the kitchen preparing a special breakfast in bed—waffles and freshly cut fruit were always her favourites.

Y/N smiled at the thought, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, slipping her feet in her fuzzy slippers before dragging her legs to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Aside from a few work emails needing to be responded to, her day was essentially empty, hoping that her time would soon be filled with long-lasting memories.

Ten minutes later and a questionable frown on her face, Y/N entered the kitchen with a beating heart. The smell of breakfast food didn’t linger in the air as she had expected. In fact, there was nobody there. No one in the living room, nowhere. There was no note taped to the fridge, no gifts sitting on the counter, no cake cooling on the stove rack.

Y/N felt the corner of her mouth dip in disappointment, returning to the bedroom to switch her phone on.

A hole in her chest formed at the sight of an empty lock screen—no messages or calls needing to be tended to because no one had remembered her birthday. She tried not to think too much about it, maybe they were busy or forced by Harry to stay quiet because he had planned a surprise party later in the evening. Y/N sighed, tapping her thumbs to text him ‘where are you 🥺’.

The damage ripped her further apart at a notification showing pictures of ‘Today, 1 Year ago’. She contemplated whether to view them or not, aware that she was torturing herself for not getting the same amount of sentiment as the previous years.

‘meeting. I’ll call you x’ - Harry

Y/N swiped the message up, opting not to reply and wallowing in self-pity as she tried not to let her thoughts get the better of her. Today was supposed to be a happy day so why was she feeling so sad?

Wandering around Harry’s large house, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a cold blanket of loneliness draping over her shoulder. She wished that Harry was here to ease the ache quelling in her heart. All she wanted was to share sweet kisses with his soft lips, to feel his strong arms wrapped around her waist. Hearing his voice whispering dirty thoughts and compliments in her ear while she buried her face on the nape of his neck where his scent was the strongest. Maybe they would bake a cake in the kitchen. Flour dusting the air as Harry let his fingers wiggle to get it off of him. The finished product didn’t always look good but it tended to taste delicious. At least it was edible.

The daydreams in her head moved with the branches swaying outside the window, the fluffy white clouds moving westward as Y/N reeled in memories of her past birthday like a camera roll, creaking with each spin. The flickering blinking with forgotten remnants of happy flashbacks.

It was nearing four in the afternoon when Y/N decided to stop antsily waiting for the device to buzz in hopes of a message from Harry or anybody, really. The slight grief she felt washed over her mind, echoing that she wasn’t important enough to be remembered.

She didn’t want to feel like that anymore.

Y/N didn’t know what bothered her the most. Is it fair for her to expect Harry to remember her birthday? Was it a given? If he came home right now with a present on his left hand, balloons and flowers on his right with a sheepish smile inching up the lower half of his face—would Y/N still feel angry? Sad? Disappointed? All she wanted was him to remember on his own. Maybe then she’ll feel as though she was worth his time. It wasn’t even about the gifts or a celebration—just a simple acknowledgment that meant he cared for her.

She kept asking herself if she should feel sad. If she had the right to feel disappointed. It wasn’t like they made any plans. It wasn’t like he promised to do anything special with her. It felt more and more like a normal day instead of her birthday and Y/N’s heart twinged with realization.

If Harry ‘made it up to her’, was it overpowering guilt that would make him do it? Or because he genuinely forgot? Maybe both? Nonetheless, the hours passed by with barely anything productive being accomplished, having taken the day off for nothing. The device beside her vibrated once, a message from her aunt saying ‘happy birthday’ left a smile on her face. It wasn’t every day that Y/N received a text from her extended family-- she concluded that it was because her birthday was on the same day as her grandfather’s.

____

The sun sunk down beyond the horizon, darkness littering the streets that the light disappeared due to nighttime slowly cycling through the rest of the day. Y/N spent her time as she would any other day, except this time she baked a cake. A pity cake for her gloomy day. She was like a burnt cigarette crumpled on the ashtray, the last traces of orange hue fire spotting into black traces.

Y/N felt foolish wearing a party hat with a string that was way too short stretched around her head. The tightness tramping her that would probably cause slight indentations on her skin. It was nearing midnight when she decided to sing herself a happy birthday and made a wish.

The door unlocked, followed by keys rattling on a hardwood. The flame on her wax candle dancing with the gasp she released as Harry rounded the corner to the kitchen.

“Y/N, you in here?” He froze in place as his eyes caught up with the rest of his body. Harry’s fingers tightened around his phone before slipping it in his back pocket. His mouth parted open, throat closing up as he tried to swallow the lump that formed. The party hat sitting on her head almost took away from the severity of the situation.

He messed up. Really bad.

“Hey, Har,” Y/N greeted, crimping her lips to bare a small ghast to the candle. The flame disappeared in the blink of an eye. Harry’s heart hammered harder in his sternum, Y/N’s plunged to her churning stomach. “Where have you been?”

The tone of her voice was mundane. Harry was trying his best to decipher how she was feeling so that he can act accordingly and that was exactly why Y/N purposefully voided it of any susceptible sentiment.

“Y/N, I-I’m sorry,” He padded his feet closer to her, the kitchen island putting distance between them. She sat on the barstool, removing the hat from her head. She fixed her hair as Harry spoke. “I’m really sorry,”

Green eyes bore through her with a sincere expression, shooting daggers in her heart for staying quiet while Harry apologized profusely. The chocolate frosted cake drooped on the edges--she had a habit of smothering the layers with frosting before it fully cooled down-- just like the corners of her mouth.

“What are you sorry for?”

Harry blinked at her, resting his hands on the edge of the counter. “I forgot your birthday,”

Y/N nodded, “Yeah, you did.”

“Happy birthday, baby” His voice was tender, like a bowl of sweet, milk chocolate. Decadent and rich as it released the words she had been waiting to hear all day long. And frankly, it would’ve been enough to put a smile to her face, but the lack of content for the day embedded her in a mindset that not even Harry’s simple words could dig her out of. The amount of self-reflection she did today was a topic that she had tried to avoid for so long because it was too destructive--she never handled these thoughts well.

Y/N peered at the digital clock on the stove just as it switched to ‘00:01’. Harry followed her gaze, hitching a breath in his throat. She stared at him deeply, "Where were you?”

“Studio. I had a flow, couldn’t stop and I--,” He rambled on, nervously scratching the nape of his neck, fingers playing with the tiny curls. A part of Y/N couldn’t help but feel selfish for making this all about her (even if it was about her). Harry had other commitments besides her. He had a music career that depended on him writing songs. She knew how much it meant to him when a flow was just too good--lyrics spewing out of his mouth, melodies humming from the base of his throat. Harry wrote some of his best work in the middle of the night after dreaming about something that absolutely puzzled her to no end. Remorse spotted in her chest.

“It’s okay,” Y/N said slowly. “You were working hard. I get it,” Her hands reached out for his waist, his Gucci hoodie soft to the touch.

Harry hesitated, opening and closing his mouth, wondering if he should uncover the whole truth. His arms wrapped around her shoulders, his chin jutting on the crown of her head. A sudden breeze slipped up his back when she slid her warm palms under the fabric. “No, I wasn’t,”

“Hmm?”

He cleared his throat, leaning back far enough that he could maintain eye contact with her, “I wasn’t working hard. I was sleeping. I did write some tunes bu’ then I got knocked out for hours and didn’t wake up until eleven,”

“Oh,” Y/N let her hands dangle beside her, a rush of disappointment flooding her every being. She carefully sewed up her next response, “S’okay, you were tired,” And she was too. All she wanted was to cuddle up in their bed and he can make it up to her another day.

“It’s not okay!” Harry retorted. “I forgot about your birthday, left you all alone. I didn’t even text you,” He pounded his fist on the counter, way too close to the chocolate cake that had Y/N sneakily pulling the tray away from him but he caught her, “Didn’t get you a cake. Didn’t buy ya’ a present,”

“Harr--,” She tried to intervene in his monologue. Disappointment still weighed heavily in her chest. However, the sight of Harry fuming at his ability to remember reminded her that she didn’t enjoy seeing him blaming himself. As much as she wished to have this day play out differently, everything was already said and done.

“Stop that, Y/N! I was sleeping while you were blowing a candle out on your own. I was s’pposed to be there with you,”

Salty tears flooded her waterline, overwhelming emotions swamping her and saturating her mind, “No, no, no. Please don’t cry,” He rushed out, willing his legs to stand between hers from the distance he created. His thumb stuck out to pad a tear to her temple, “I’ll make it up to you. I swear it,”

Earlier, she contemplated if he would be acting out of guilt. Seeing the sincerity in his eyes and hearing the intensity of his voice asserting that he had messed up so badly that he reprimanded himself; there was no doubt in Y/N’s mind that Harry would do everything he can to make her feel better.

“Do you care about me?”

“‘Course, I do,” He cringed internally at his words, visibly shuddering as his actions surely emphasized the opposite. “Dunno how I forgot. It must’ve slipped my mind,” The groove in between his brows thickened, his cheek absentmindedly leaning towards her palm cupping his cheek. “I care about you a lot, Y/N.” He breathed through his nose, letting the scent of her fill his lungs.

“Do you love me?’

His lids snapped open, jaw tensing against her skin, “Loads. I love you so much,” He turned his head to kiss her palm, holding her wrist to press kisses on her fingers, her wrist, her forearm.

“I’m really sorry,” He rested his forehead against hers. Y/N tangled their fingers together as she held him close.

“You’re sorry?” She asked, the crest of her lips brushing over his plump ones. Harry nodded, keeping his eyes on hers.

“Very,”

Y/N let her eyes fall shut, peering closer to his cloudy lips and attaching his mouth to his. Her hands travelled to his broad shoulders, straightening her back to reach his height. Harry bent down in retaliation.  They pulled away with a smacking sound, lips glistening from their intense kiss. “S’that mean I’m forgiven?” He mumbled, pressing a kiss on her head.

She scoffed, turning her attention on the cake, “Have you made it up to me yet?”

___

sucky ending, i know.

___

Permanent Taglist: @fangirl-moment-x @kissme-hs @agoddamnmango @harrys-kingdom @harrysstyleseyes @calums-sugarbaby @queenbeestuffs @ashkuuuu @kettxo @send-me-styles @littledreamybeth @trustfulhaz @harrysfeastedflower @harrystxleslx @befourep @moonandstars-xo @babebenhardy @particularnarry @mendesromano @harrystylinsince1994 @juliassgem @miscll-fangirl @little-dragon-ate-my-heart @myfangirlworld @haroldssfedora @winchesterwife27 @w0wfxck @arypesanchez @harriemelonsugar @someinsanefangirl @derangedcupcake @bobo-bush @peachesaquari @shawnsnovel @ivegotparticulartaste @adore-you-hs2 @combativehood @simonsbluee @hockeyschmockey​ @belovedcherry​ @harrysahottie @adore-you-hs2 @splendidsunsetsx @turtoix @la-cey @harrys-watermelons @softkidinlove 

Birthday Taglist: @millie-753 @tomhiddleston-is-mischief @liaabsurd

[bakugohoex]

Could I request a jean and s/o birthday thingy my birthday is in a few days and since we're in a lockdown again I can't see my family I read a lot of your writings and they're all awesome it would really make me happy if you could write one for me 🙈

“happy birthday, baby”

pairing: jean kirschtein x female reader

cw: modern AU, fluff, implied nsfw and just pure love

word count: 1600+

a/n: happy birthday to you, hope this request can bring some sort of comfort through lockdown, it’s all a mess right now and lockdown has really fucked us over. this is also an emergency request as it’s a birthday one so i thought i’d do this one now and continue on with my normal request order tomorrow

summary: in which it’s your birthday and jean spends the day celebrating with you

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

This man spends the whole night preparing the living room of your apartment

He will literally sneak out from your shared bed leaving a pillow for you to cuddle and start getting everything from his car.

Lockdown had hit you once again and you were unable to celebrate with your family.

Baby had seen how sad you had looked on the phone with your parents and had begun planning everything from there.

Ordering so much crap and making sure it came the next day, he had to usher you to go on a designated walk whilst he shoved everything into his car.

This boy takes multiple trips in the cold with a mask and hoodie on bringing everything up.

So fucking sweet right.

He even has a cake, which he got icing for and wrote happy birthday Y/n.

Be warned the cake looks shit with the red icing.

A horror scene but he tried.

Balloons every fucking where.

He literally had streamers and balloons with your age on them.

This man is too good (how is reader getting so much shit for their birthday and i had to spend mine at home).

He had everything set up for the day, calling your family to set up a call the next day at the designated time.

This man has it all sorted, the pancakes for the morning, the presents for you, hidden behind the sofa and the special dinner he was going to make for you.

This man is just too good for his own good.

Ofc at the end of the day, he’ll treat himself to some dessert and make you feel so fucking loved.

This man would fuck you so good, like baby boy take a chill pill or you’ll get her pregnant.

He don’t care (breeding kink?).

The sound of muttering made you wake up, the early morning sun hit your face but even then, it was cloudy and cold since January was a cold month. You grabbed the other side waiting to see your boyfriend Jean, but he wasn’t there. A soft yawn coming from your face, you checked your phone seeing the gazillion messages, smiling at all the messages.

You got up, wearing Jean’s shirt that warmed you up a lot more than you had expected. Moving to the bathroom, just as you walked back out Jean noticed you about to move into the living space, “woah, woah, woah, where are you going? Get back into the room.”

Jean had pushed you back into the room, “happy birthday Y/n, yeah...have an amazing day, love you.” You mocked after he had dismissed you back into the room.

Hearing shuffling outside, the doors opened, and Jean came in with the pancakes, “happy birthday, baby.” You smiled seeing him with an apron on and a plate of two pancakes.

“Thank you.” You spoke gleefully moving towards him, you kissed his lips softly, tasting the sugar knowing he probably had some out of hunger.

Sitting you on the bed he let you lean against his frame, putting the pancakes on your lap, “why can’t I go into the living room?”

“It’s a surprise, be patient princess.” He kissed the top of your head, you both eating and talking. It felt like a good start to the day and had already made you feel warm and less empty than you had felt the night before.

“You can’t come in until you wear your best clothes and make yourself even prettier.” He gleamed out having already showered and ready to change himself.

You sign doing as your told, it was quick, and you wore the dress Jean had said he’d liked, the long black sleeve dress covered you up and you wore tights due to the extreme weather and knowing how cold the apartment got in the afternoon.

Jean walked back seeing you, he stood in awe at the door, one hand at the top as he leaned forward admiring you, “you look beautiful, baby.”

“You’re being extra nice.” You snicker standing up and going in front of him.

“It’s your birthday, I’m supposed to be nice.” You laugh going on your tippy toes and giving him a soft peck. “Come on.”

He makes you go in front of him, his rough hands on your face covering your eyes, you directed you, making sure you didn’t bang into anything. Before finally you were both in the living room, the balloons and streamers cascaded down the walls. The gold and pinks filled with love and his emotion, “keep them closed.”

Feeling his hands leave your eyes, you kept your eyes shut but could feel the light from outside. “Okay, open them.” He had a cake in his hands, the balloons and lights being such a pretty sight. The place was filled to the brim, you felt engulphed in love and happiness and the wide smile the boy had on his face, he knew you loved it.

“You…you did this on your own.” You spoke tearily, still partially in shock at how much the boy had done for you.

“It was all to see that pretty smile.” He got the matches lightening the candle before showing the cake in full view. It really did look like a scene out of a horror film with the red hearts looking like splodges and the words being smudged, “make a wish.”

He was scared you might hate him for ruing the cake, but you grinned like a school girl who had fallen in love. Blowing out the yellow fame, you made the wish that would make you and Jean bound together forever. He smiled putting the cake down, grabbing your hand to take you to the sofa. “You have to open it in order.” You nodded as he passed the gifts, there were three in total. A small box, a much larger oddly shaped one and a rectangle shaped one, he pointed to the rectangle and you opened it.

Unwrapping the silver wrapping paper and sticking the bow on your boyfriend, his lip twitched upwards before you saw the gift. It was a frame, with the two of you in it, it was sentimental more than anything. It had been three months into your relationship, and he had invited you to his work event where you met a lot of his friends. One of them being Sasha who insisted on taking a photo for you two, it had been your favourite photo since, so candid and in love it was beautiful.

“I love it.” You cooed ready to kiss and hug him, but he stopped you.

“No hugs or kisses until the last present.” You signed rolling your eyes at the boy who passed the oddly shaped gift. You unwrapped it quicker, wanting to hug your boyfriend so much at how amazing the day was going.

You undid it to be met with a figure from your favourite anime, it was a little plushie that you had seen in town. You had sent the plushie to him months ago and here it was in your hands, he had remembered. It was amazing, beautiful even, the little hands and feet. You wanted to cry even more at what you had gotten it meant a lot that the boy had even remembered such a trivial thing like that.

He passed the final gift, his hands seemed shaky, but you ignored it thinking he was cold. After all it was still icy outside and you knew he must’ve had to hide it in his car and wake up in the early hours to even do something like this. You wrapped the last gift, the smallest of the bunch, his shirt moved due to his heavy breaths, he rubbed the sweat on his trousers from his palms. He was nervous if you’d like something like this if you’d accept a gift so personal.

You opened it, seeing a square box, you looked between the box and Jean, before opening it. Inside a gold necklace sat in the middle, the words Jean dangled in the middle. Your heart stopped, it was pretty, the diamonds on each side, the cursive lettering. It was beautiful, “I know it says my name, but there’s a reason for that.” He watched your expression, fearful you’d think him to have that big of an ego, which he did but not to you, “I know I leave on business trips for days and I want you to know I’ll always still be around you.”

His justification warmed your heart even more than the gift had originally, you passed it to the boy, moving your hair to the side. He smiled putting it around your neck before kissing your exposed shoulder. “I love it, I love you.” You whispered in his ear, you kissed him softly before he brought his arms around your waist bringing you a lot closer onto his body.

Your birthday had started out amazing, and it continued on, with a surprise family call whilst Jean made dinner, showing your gifts which your parents adored. To the meal that Jean prepared as you both sat together under multiple candles, it was romantic something you and Jean had missed out on since the first lockdown had occurred. But here you were with your favourite boy having the best birthday ever. He even washed up, letting your relax surrounded by the balloons and streamers. It really was a magical day.

Even afterwards, letting you cuddle up beside him he gave you one last present, and it was one that would make you so loved, so comforted and definitely unable to walk the next day.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world @chrrylevi @ukaisgratefulwhore @answer-the-sirens @animexholic

[toruhalo]

water balloons

Request: Can I request Jerome x Reader?? No gender preference or anything so you can pick if you want but I wanted to see if you could do something where Jerome and Reader have a water balloon fight maybe.. -Anonymous

A/N: here’s some cute fluff uwu and btw there is NO SMUT i just thought the title was funny

Gotham was usually a cold and cloudy city, but this summer was possibly the hottest it’s ever been. Even though the crime hasn’t ceased, the heat kept everyone inside and glued to their air conditioners.

Jerome had just recently made his big escape from Arkham Asylum with The Scarecrow and Mad Hatter, which led him to lay low at the apartment you shared. The two of you began a ‘relationship’ after he was resurrected, as he realized how much he cared for you. You were distraught after learning he was caught and sent back to Arkham after just being reunited, you even offered to get admitted with him. He refused, knowing you would get extremely bored and he doesn’t want to put you in any danger.

A month or two later, he finally escaped. So here he was, laying his sweat drenched body on the couch, complaining about the heat.

“Doll, could you fetch me a glass of water?” he asked in a posh english accent.

“Why me? You have two legs. Two sweaty legs…” You said while pointing out his pale hairy legs poking out from his swim trunks.

“You’re the one who promised to take me swimming, and here we are.”

“Wha- It’s not my fault someone threw up in it before we got there,” you pouted. Jerome pursed his lips and crossed his ankles, indicating that he wasn’t going anywhere.

You sighed and peeled yourself off the leather couch, and grabbed two ice cold bottled waters from the fridge.

“Here you go-“ you toss one bottle at his face, but he grabs it mid-air just before it makes contact. He smirks and twists off the cap, pouring some over his head.

“I knew you were gonna throw one at my beautiful face. Can’t fool me.”

You roll your eyes and sit on the floor next to him, not wanting to stick yourself to the couch again. A few minutes of silence pass, and you’re starting to get really hot.

“Jerome…”

He grunts.

“Do you still have those water balloons from when you were going to drop them on random people on the street?”

Jerome gasped, “Be right back!” He leaped off the couch as graciously as he could, and ran down the hall.

While you wiped down the couch from your combined sweat, Jerome walked up carrying a tub of deflated balloons.

You smiled and grabbed the tub from him, “Let’s go fill them up!”

After filling the last balloon with water, Jerome lifts the tub above his head and the two of you head out the front door of your first level apartment.

He sets it down on the sidewalk and you walk up to grab a blue balloon.

“Who’s throwing firs-“

Jerome chucks a big red balloon at the back of your head, the rubber splitting itself on your hair.

You squeal and turn around, seeing Jerome looking away and whistling to himself. You squint your eyes and throw the balloon you had at your hand at his chest. The balloon bounces off his shirt and rolls in the grass, unpierced.

Jerome keels over and bursts with laughter at your failure. You pout, but begin to laugh yourself at your own demise. Jerome quickly picked up the defective balloon and successfully broke it on your stomach.

“That’s not fair! You’re stronger than me…” you exclaim.

“It’s not about strength, doll face. It’s about technique.”

You eventually are able to pop water balloons on Jerome, which leads to him taking off his soaked through shirt. Seeing his defined abs makes you very distracted.

You look back at the tub, but find there is only one balloon left. You glance at Jerome, and break into a sprint for it. Unfortunately, he makes it before you do. He cackles maniacally and stalks toward you as if you were his prey. You scream with laughter and run away from him, maneuvering yourself between obstacles. You realize you don’t hear his footsteps anymore, and you begin to grow worried.

“Jerome?”

No answer.

Without notice, strong arms grabbed you from behind and pulled you into their chest. You scream, not thinking straight, and ram the back of your heel into their genital region.

A loud groan comes behind your head, and you immediately know it’s Jerome.

“I’m so sorry! I’ll go get ice-“

“No, it’s- it’s fine. Doesn’t hurt that bad,” he said as his voice cracked.

You laugh softly as you wrap your arms around his neck. You kiss the side of his head and whisper, “I’ll make it up to you…”

Jerome quickly scoops you up in his arms and enters the apartment, leaving the empty tub behind.