#i have so many thoughts about this damn show i could probably write a million essays

[midnightrings]

Still trying to collect my thoughts after the finale, but one of the many things I love about the final conversation between Hawk and Tim is how clearly Tim has moved on – not by forgetting about Hawk or because he didn’t love him anymore, but by accepting that his own love for Hawk was enough. He didn’t expect more, he didn’t need more.

Hawk, on the other hand, has constantly been running away from his love for Tim, unable to admit how important Tim essentially was for him. I found it almost funny how he asked “Don’t you need me?” back in episode 7, because it is very clear at that point that Hawk needs him much more than Tim needs Hawk. But the problem is that Hawk never wanted to need Tim; never wanted to be in love with him. Tim has been honest within his feelings for Hawk, which has allowed him to find peace. Hawk has never been able to do that.

It was clear from the beginning that Tim needed someone like Hawk in his life – someone that represented love and passion to him. He also found that love and passion in Church and within his idolization of McCarthy. But Hawk allowed him to be authentically himself – something that neither his faith nor his political beliefs, and not even his family, could give him.

Besides being fond of him, I believe that Hawk very much admired Tim from the very beginning. He admired Tim’s care and passion, because those are the exact things Hawk was missing and needed in his life. The last scene of the first episode already shows that Hawk needs Tim – needs his comfort and compassion.

Essentially, Hawk is the only person in Tim’s life that Tim feels like he can truly be himself with. And Tim is the only person in Hawk’s life that Hawk can allow himself to be vulnerable with.

Hawk is fine with the way their relationship continues because it is always on his terms. Tim is there for him and he doesn’t need more. But Tim clearly struggles within it, because he does need more than Hawk can give him. He doesn’t just want to eat dinner in a restaurant, pretending Hawk is his uncle, but he wants to eat dinner in a restaurant while letting everyone know that this is the man he loves.

Then Hawk decided to end their relationship at the worst time possible: the one time that Tim truly needed Hawk. At this point, they are both aware that Tim has to let go of Hawk, yet neither can admit that Hawk has to let go as well. As a result, Hawk wants to reunite with him in ’57, and Tim relents, but with different expectations – ready to have the casual affair Hawk always wanted. I think the scene of them dancing together naked is a quite pivotal scene on why this didn’t work. For one, Tim is clearly unable to just be casual about anything. But it also shows that Hawk very clearly can’t have anything casual with Tim anymore either.

Tim then continues his search for something more – searching for what he found with Hawk but knew very well Hawk could not give him. First, he’s returning to his faith, trying to become a priest. Then he becomes a social worker. And, throughout all this, he’s still passionate about his political beliefs – and while those beliefs have changed over the years, the root to it all is still his compassion and care. He also moves to San Francisco, choosing to be authentically himself by coming out, and living within a queer community. He doesn’t need Hawk anymore. He still loves him, but he doesn’t need him.

Hawk, however, has never tried to look for the comfort Tim has given him elsewhere. He pushed Tim out of his life when he believed that he had to, then tried to reconcile when it was convenient for him. Because, in the end, even his family could not give him the same love and care, as he constantly felt like he had lie to them. And don’t get me wrong, Hawk clearly loved his family, but he never found the same comfort with them as he had with Tim, because with Tim he could be vulnerable in a way that he has never allowed himself to be with Lucy or their children.

However, after Tim leaves him in ’79, I do believe that he is trying his best to let Tim go. He’s become much more caring when we meet him in ’86, possibly allowing himself to find comfort and happiness in the life he has built with his family.

At this point, Tim has found peace within his feelings for Hawk. He doesn’t need him anymore, but neither does he regret anything. He still loves him, but that love is enough for him. He’s not searching for more, because he’s already found it.

And this is perhaps the first time that Hawk is truly there for Tim – deciding to stay with him, standing by his side, showing his love for him publicly and eventually admitting it to his daughter. And while I believe that Hawk has been more or less aware of his feelings for Tim since the 50s, I also believe that he only truly admitted it to himself after everything was over. His confession to his daughter was also a confession to himself.

[an-otterly-adorable-being]

It's been awhile...: Stolas x M!GoetiaPrince! Reader Headcanons.

God, this one was so much fun to write, and I very well may turn it into a fic for my ao3 when I get back to posting there. I hope y'all enjoy!

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

• Growing up as a goetic demon was an...odd experience.

• You were the son of a duke, and while there were plenty of problems, it wasn't as bad as it was for others.

• You were given the title of prince from a young age, due to a mix of your own natural charm and circumstance.

• This wasn't supposed to happen, as your title should've gone to your older brother, Astratoth.

• However, your father had disappeared and no one knew what happened to him, leaving Astratoth to take on the title of duke and you to take up the title of prince.

• There were a lot of things that your father made you do a lot of things from a young age.

• Magical studies, finance and business courses, even sword fighting and martial arts training.

• You were actually rather good combat wise, even competing in competitions and tournaments.

• It was actually at one of these tournaments that you met a boy that changed your life.

• Satan wanted the chance to show off his, and his protégés' skills, so he called royal demons from across the rings to come watch, and even face them, if any dared.

• You were only a teenager at the time, but you had a fighting spirit and a need to prove yourself, so you, along with your brother made the trip down, only a week after he became a duke, and you a prince.

• It was why you needed to fight, or atleast that's how you felt about it.

• There's a million demons that are sharper than a razor or have silver tounges, but not many would even dare to face off against Satan's finest pupils.

• Before the fighting began, a grand party was held, and you got the first chance to mingle with other goetias as a prince.

• One stood out to you, though.

• Prince Stolas, son of King Paimon, stood on the balcony of the manor the party was held.

• He was alone, staring off into the night sky.

• So, you made your way over to him.

• You desperately needed a break, especially after having to deal with Zagan and Queen Beleth.

• Stolas didn't say anything when you walked outside and stood next to him, he just glanced over at you.

• The only sound that broke the silence was the muffled sounds of schmoozing inside.

• Eventually, you tried to talk to him, and apparently he needed it.

• This boy, probably no more than a year younger than you, broke down in tears.

• You tried to comfort him, and it somewhat succeeded.

• The two of you ended up sitting down and talking and he opened up about everything.

• His arranged marriage to a woman he hated, the problems with his father, and just...everything.

• So, you did the only thing you knew how to; you offered to sneak out of the party with him.

• Stolas was hesitant, but ultimately decided to go with you.

• You ended up just going into a small, family owned diner, and ate together.

• Now with all his problems off his chest, you got to know him really well, and you could already tell you were catching feelings.

• Stolas ended up resting his hand on the table, and you, ever the charmer, moved to rest yours on top of his.

• It took him a second to realize what you had done, but when he did, Stolas turned bright red.

• Stolas mentioned that he thought you were somewhat cute, and that night ended up becoming a date.

• You were his knight in shining armor now, and you were absolutely going to prove it the next day.

• You were going to fight a guy named Tsizoro.

• He wasn't Satan's top student, but he was definitely up there.

• Before the fight, Stolas found you, and gave you a gift. It was a handkerchief with his seal on it.

• You couldn't help but give Stolas a quick kiss. It was worth it to see him blush.

• You didn't win the fight, but you got damn close. You actually did well enough to get the respect of Satan himself.

• You didn't take his offer to learn from him though. You had to go see someone.

• Stolas and you ended up going back to Pride together, you using the excuse of teaching him how to fight. That was an excuse Paimon graciously accepted.

• You were together for a week, and you ended up becoming crazy for eachother.

• Well, until Paimon and Stolas' betrothed, Stella, caught you two.

• You got kicked out really damn fast, and Paimon made sure there was no way you could contact Stolas.

• Defeated and heartbroken, you tried to move on, and finally took Satan's offer.

• It didn't work though, as evidence by the fact that decades later, now with you and Stolas both as adults, you kept up with the story surrounding him.

• Divorce, affair, and who knows how much heartbreak.

• Eventually you decided to go see him.

• You wanted to do it right, so you made sure to get his favorite flowers, hand-picked by yourself.

• Stolas' eyes lit up when he saw you, and you thought he was going to cry.

• The two of you embraced, and even shared a kiss or two.

• Things were so different now, and you weren't sure how things would go.

• But you had eachother, and that was enough for you.

[anonymousfoz]

Levels of writing

Context: @the-mindless did this and i decided that I wanted to take a shot at it. That's all. I did level 1, 4, 7 and 10

Taglist: @vite-poh @theoracleofgiana @full-on-sam @the-mindless @eldritchx @teacupsandstarlight @a-had-matter

Level 1:

there were stars in the sky. You loved the sight.

Level 4:

Up above in the sky, small little ivory freckles littered the dark navy canvas as the moon traveled across as a painter's brush paints an elegant stoke. Looking up in awe only showed the beauty nature as you had never seen this many stars. You had some sense of childhood wonder back, taking you finger and drawing outlines of constellations you heard of as a child. This was when you knew the country life was for you.

Level 7:

You got out your broken down car and climbed to the top while the tow truck was on the way. Out of all places, you had to break down in the middle of nowhere. Maybe they were all right, the farm life probably wasn't for you. Maybe your parents were right. You took a sigh as you come to the grip of that terrible possibility you look up to see a sight you hadn't seen since you were small. Millions of small small ivory freckles painted the large navy canvas you called the sky. You were taken back in awe at such beauty. You hadn't seen anything so beautiful in the city, covered in smog and light pollution. You took your hand and lifted it into the air, taking your finger and tracing the constellations that you learned about at a younger age. You had always loved stars, you had planned to be an astronomer, studying planets, stars, and figuring out mysteries that the expanding universe had to hide. You had tried but all the money you saved up for college stolen by the people you trusted most, it was too late to try but it never stopped your love for the cosmos above. Eventually you fell asleep, under the safety of the stars and with nearby cattle grazing beside your car.

The tow truck arrived at the crack of dawn and the man apologized for making you stay out all night. You smiled as you told him not to worry and hopped in the car with him as he took you to his station to get your car fixed. Yet you knew, the country life was for you. It would take a while to adjust, it would be worth it to spend every night under the night sky.

Level 10:

"Hey kiddo! Took you long enough." Your dad commented with a large grin on his face.

1 week ago

You got off your bike now arriving at your parents house. Working 5 jobs wasn't ideal but it was over. You threw your bike in the yard, not caring if it got stolen. You were exhausted, to the point you didn't notice the truck sitting in the drive way with the other two cars. Your parent's were quiet more than usual when you entered. There were no greetings as you moved through the house as if you had no soul. You finally had enough money to go to college, to have the job you always wanted: astronomer. The thought made you smile. You opened your door and walked into your room. You opened the door of your closet and moved some of your clothes to put the money you had just earned in your piggy bank when you noticed it was missing. You could hear your parent's laughing and bolted downstairs.

"Where is the money I been saving up for months?"

"Spent." What? "I hope you don't mind that I went into your bank account as well."

"Those were my life savings for-"

"Look kid." Your dad became stern as your mother walked to the kitchen."I know you want to be chasing dreams and do whatever the fuck an astro-meter is. But you just aren't smart enough, it's time you learn that life sucks and it's best to give you your dreams." He pulls out a pair of keys from his pocket and threw them at you. "The truck is yours, stop biking and get a real damn job." You stayed silent as you went back upset. Your dreams crushed and anger boiling. You didn't go down for dinner and when the house was quiet, you packed your things and left. You had some money still left in your bank account, it was enough to move far and get a house in the rural areas where your parents would never find you.

Today

You were driving down the long rural roads, all your belongs laying across the back seat as the sun started to go down. You hated this car due to what it meant to your dad, but it was still a good car. Maybe a repaint would be nice as your funds weren't low at all. It wasn't as much as you spent a decade saving for, but it was enough to make your plan of escaping work. Then you heard the sounds of your engine dying. You pulled your car off the road into a grassy area as you quickly got out and lifted the lid. Smoke hit you in the face as you attempted to fix the issue before deciding to call the nearest tow truck company, yet they wouldn't be to you till the morning. Frustration began to take over as you remembered all the things your parents told you. Were they right? Were you a failure? You looked up wanting to scream into the void, yet all you saw as millions of small ivory freckles painted across the large navy canvas that you had called the sky. You quickly went to the back of your car to grab one of the many books you had on the night sky to see a stow away. A stray cat had found a way into your car, you didn't really care that it was there but you didn't want to risk any of your books getting damaged. You slowly picked up the cat and put it on the roof of the car before grabbing your favorite book and getting on top of the car along the cat. The orange cat remained asleep while you slowly looked for then constellations in the sky. You never saw this many in the city and wondered if it was due to the light pollution or due to the smog, maybe both. You took your hand and lifted it into the air, taking your finger and tracing the constellations that you learned about at a younger age as the cat watched on. You felt like a little kid once again, before you began to start saving up money to have the job you always dreamed of.

[ceruleanwhore]

Last thing I want to talk about before the finale while I’m out here on my bullshit is vanilla vodka. I’m aware of how ridiculous that probably sounds but I couldn’t help but notice that, while alcohol comes up many times throughout the series, vanilla vodka specifically only is shown/mentioned twice, which makes me raise an eyebrow a bit. This is mainly because it’s also the only time they’ve specified a flavor of flavored alcohol, which does make it stand out a bit.

The first time vanilla vodka comes up is in s1 e3 in the middle of the reading of Trent’s article when that narration pauses for a moment to show Roy confronting Jamie about Nate as a way of demonstrating the effects of Ted’s coaching style that Trent was in the middle of talking about. [For the record, the line is: “His coaching style is subtle — it never hits you over the head — slowly growing until you can no longer ignore its presence.”] In the part with Roy going off on Jamie, he takes a sip of Jamie’s drink and makes the comment of “Vanilla vodka? Such a child,” before leaving. The second and only other time vanilla vodka is specifically featured like that is in the Amsterdam episode when Trent, after talking with Colin, goes out clubbing with him and Colin orders vanilla vodka from the bar, which Trent tries and doesn’t like.

Honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that the second time this comes up is with those two at that point in that episode, I would’ve just ignored this. However, something about having Trent come out to Colin and them bonding over being gay with Trent becoming like a mentor to him and then, coming off of that, having them go out and have a positive experience together with Colin comfortably being himself and all of that then has the aforementioned vanilla vodka thrown in, like an endcap to that whole thing, feels like a deliberate callback to s1 e3. This could serve to point out that Jamie and Roy are in fact super gay for each other but, like Colin, they aren’t comfortable acknowledging that yet and need a nudge like Colin got from Trent or perhaps it could be about Trent himself, the one common denominator between those two scenes.

If it is supposed to be indicating something about Trent, then I feel like whatever it’s pointing at would have to also feature Ted, since that’s who he was talking about in the first scene. So then, if these two scenes are linked and are meant to point to something involving both Ted and Trent, then I feel like the natural conclusion is that it’s meant to indicate that Trent isn’t just into men, he’s specifically interested in Ted. The other thing is that we are still talking about vanilla vodka as a symbol here, and I think it’s important to acknowledge that vanilla comes from a type of orchid, like saffron, and if you look up the meaning of orchids in flower language, they represent love, beauty, fertility, and virility. As far as a symbol in media to represent attraction, I’d say that’s pretty damn solid. Also, maybe this is a reach, but I do think it’s worth noting that it’s vanilla vodka, not any of the other million other vanilla flavored things out there, and that alcohol historically has been referred to as ‘spirits.’ If we go with this combination of symbolic meaning, then this vanilla vodka could actually be representative of a spirit filled with love and admiration of something beautiful.

The last thing I want to talk about with this ridiculous post is how Trent views Ted at both of those points in the season. In s1 e3, he went in skeptical and then spent a whole day with Ted, which changed his mind and gave him a far kinder view of the other man than anyone thought he would have. The article he writes is still kind of critical, but the entire second half is basically praising and expressing wonder at Ted. What we get in that episode is Trent Crimm being curious about and inspired by Ted and we see as some change is sparked, like this is the very beginning of the massive development we see from here out. In comparison, s3 e6 is basically showing sort of the end result of all that change Trent went through that was initially sparked by Ted. We see Trent being nothing but kind, helpful, and understanding, showing absolutely no interest in using anything at all from that episode in his writing even though that’s officially why he’s there, and it’s because of Ted. I think the vanilla vodka really serves most to mark the start and end of Trent’s individual character arc, which entirely centers around Ted, and perhaps also indicate that, while Trent himself has completed his own arc, there might be more to come regarding his relationship with Ted. And yeah, I know how wild that sounds lmao

[thedepressedjuggalette]

hey so I saw your "THIS SHIT AIN'T NEW WHEN IT COMES TO ROWLING!" Reblog and i have always had this thought in mind.

you know how the Harry Potter fandom and you know how it is more well known that the bigger the fandom the chances of maybe mass harassment of some on who says something even wrong for like a piece of media like as an example how Anime Fan's tend to go after anyone who is even uncomfortable about what is shown or how fans of celebrities do not take it well when you point out that some one they like is awful?

I have been thinking, was there a chance that some one who tried to point out the nasty implications in the series could have been chased out due to trying to criticize the work and may have done so well that people like forgot?

its like I can't help but feel paranoid that that could have happened and been forgotten. because fandoms can be awful or cruel to critics.

That wouldn't be surprising, hell I might as well say YES because I can damn near guarantee that it's happened multiple times and is still happening to this day, but to take your consideration further as to commentate on the problems of fandom culture… I am gonna go on a bit of a tangent/rant so if you don't want to read that understand that you're spot on.

Anime/Weeb culture has existed and doubled down on and incentivized by the Anime and even Manga creators/studios to such an extent that women are outright ostracized to a point that it's disgusting. I have a question?

How many men have been asked to name every single anime title that had been created in the 90’s?

How many men have been asked to name every single song on the 12 album of the Beetles in order of length and then in order that is played?

How many men have been asked to name every album made by Sleep Token?

I can, with my full chest, say that no man has been asked these sorts of questions. But a woman? They've been asked these sort of things a million times for a million different fandoms.

I myself haven't, despite being a woman, only because I rarely interact with fandoms and do my best to avoid these sorts of situations, specifically online where I can easily be assumed to be the opposite gender. But there is also another aspect to it when it comes to anime as you've indirectly pointed out:

The treatment of female characters in just about 98% of anime and 99% of Isekai anime. That being female characters are either damsels in distress or just tits on a stick.

Softcore porn because the creators honestly think that their viewers are so unabashedly stupid and lack an attention span to such a point that they think they need to shove enough tits and ass shots – doubly so for under age characters – in order to keep the viewers’ attention.

Many weebs defend this sort of behavior because and I quote “Anime isn't for girls”.

My response is always, “Then you need to stop watching every anime made by women and you also have to step away from every magical girl show ever created.”

Fullmetal Alchemist: made by a woman.

Black Butler: made by a woman.

Revolutionary Girl Utena: made by a woman.

Fruits Basket: made by a woman.

Violet Evergarden: made by a woman.

Beastars, motherfucking INUYASHA, DEMON SLAYER, and SAILOR MOON WERE ALL MADE BY WOMEN!

The entire Manga and Anime industries face so much sex-based discrimination that female creators have to hide their genders through a pen-name. Your favorite anime was probably made by a woman who had to hide her gender/identity in order to get it published.

But this will never be acknowledged by the “Boy's Club” that is the Anime/Weeb community and the Industry. They don't want to acknowledge their bullshit.

They don't want to look at the opposite gender as anything other than objects. Objects to save, objects to look at, a pretty face to wank one out to.

It's so easy to piss off the Weebs that it's damn near ridiculous.

Write somewhere “Sakura is actually not useless, read the Light Novels which are actually cannon and she's actually written as a decent character.” and watch how many weebs will be pissed off by that alone.

Make a video talking about how you’re tired of being taken out of Isekai anime because the needless sexualization of the female characters just shoots your immersion down so hard that it hurts, while casually mentioning that you do like Dr. Stone and Demon Slayer, and watch as those casual mentions are ignored and get screamed at by so many weebs that you're forced to ignore it because it's clear they don't care about the other half of the audience.

Try to talk about how female characters are needlessly sexualized in their designs and it's getting to the point that you're unable to take the characters seriously when their own lore shows them to be something else entirely? Yeah good luck with how many assholes call you a “soyboy feminist who hates sexy characters”.

No matter what you do you're gonna get attacked and downed out. And that to me is horrifying.

[wandering-night19]

Just found your blog based on your new fic, which I loved! I was most excited by the medical accuracy knowledge. Do you have any old posts or thoughts about the medical accuracy for Danger Magnet Strand’s NDEs? I know the show is A Bit Not Good with that. I can’t find anything useful on recovery from severe hypothermia and it is driving me nuts.

I could literally write a dissertation on how terrible the medicine in this show is, but I will do my utmost to keep from doing that. Everyone at work makes fun of me, but I fell in love with these damn characters.

The shooting drives me absolutely crazy. “Well, it missed the subclavian artery, so he’s fine!” No. Absolutely not. He would at the very LEAST need physical therapy. It’s his shoulder! Do you know how much is happening up there??? Here have a picture... (under the cut because I am long winded)

TK would’ve come in as a trauma alert GSW to the chest. His chest!!! And he’s back at work in 10 days??? No!

I’m assuming they had him in a coma as a result of hypovolemic shock? I don’t know. It remains unclear. But that boy literally only had a nasal cannula the whole time? At the MINIMUM he would’ve come out of surgery with the following:

Art line

Central line

Temp sensing foley

NG/OG tube

AT THE MINIMUM 1 chest tube. Probs more tbh.

But I digress. You’re here for severe hypothermia. And boy do I have some THOUGHTS on this.

First of all, ECMO started in the back of a rig??? No, fucking way.

But this is supposed to be about TK, so…

You’re telling me this kid ran naked out into negative degree temperatures and rolled around on the frozen ground and there wasn’t any frostbite? Ha!

Let’s start from the beginning. So the call to the ER for TK would be traumatic arrest with ROSC achieved in the field. He should be intubated before he arrived, but this show doesn’t care about intubation. So let’s say they bag him all the way to the hospital.

When he arrives in the ER he’d be taken to the trauma room and 8 million things would happen at once. The first thing would be intubation. If a patient is intubated they need (at the very minimum) the following:

Sedation and paralytic medications

Central line

Art line

Temp sensing foley

OG tube

Because of the severe hypothermia his temperature would be monitored with a nifty esophageal thermometer. While the temp sensing foley gives bladder temp it’s behind until he’s warmed up enough.

He would also get warm IV fluids and peritoneal lavage, which is where we poke a hole in your tummy and introduce warm fluid that way. He’d also get the bair hugger which is a fun little plastic blanket type thing that inflates with warm air. (We break out the machine on night shift and put it at the nurses station. Best thing ever invented.)

Labs would be drawn and be all over the place because ice blood!! We’d probably be able to get him up to an ICU bed in an hour or two. I’d say he’d be a 1:1 for whatever ICU nurse gets him just because with all the monitoring for the first few hours it’s be impossible to get out of that room. If the nurse was 1:2 with a patient like TK the other patient would (re: should) be an easier patient. But in this post COVID world that ain’t happening. 😂

Recovery would be a verrrrrrry long road. With concern for arrhythmias and hypoxic brain injury and muscle atrophy. And then just soooo many other things. And the reason you can’t find anything useful is probably because TK would’ve died in the real world. Not a lot of people come back from that.

So this got away from me. I’m sorry. Here have some links.

This is a great article about hypothermia

And here’s a video of an actual hypothermic patient being treated in the ER so you can see all of the equipment that would be needed.

Obviously, I love to talk medicine. My inbox is always open for this. Just be prepared for me to go overboard. Sorry.

No idea if this helps or not. 🤷‍♀️

[ace-rewrites-velma-show]

The velma show...

It fucking sucks

It sucks so damn hard

I can't even BEGIN to talk about all the ways it fucks up. (And Im not even a scooby doo fan and Im pissed up)

So...I had a thought

Could an 18 year old (19 in July) write a better, darker scooby doo version with an actually GOOD mystery better than a bunch of grown adults?

Probably

So :)

I mean the first season (the fact that this show got a second season while so many GOOD shows are gone forever from HBOmax. It hurts me) is pretty short only ten episodes. (And yes Ive seen all of them via watching other youtubers react to the episodes)

Im gonna start working on the plot and character redesigns (and different voice claims because Mindy Kaling's voice irritates me, and if Im changing one I might as well change them all. Plus Kody Kavitha's voice would work so much better)

The new velma will be published as fanfiction on ao3

My ao3 account is: Starryedeyedace

So if you want to see an actual good reimagining of the shitty velma show...stick around

(It might take awhile because I have unmedicated ADHD brain and a million TMNT wips ._.)

[kamron-yuengling]

TW: mentions of suicide

David Bowie and The Lion King

I’m not really a fan of either I never have been

But I know you loved them

I’ve got a half finished painting of the stairs from The Labyrinth sitting in my closet I tried to finish it

I did

But you know me

I can never finish anything.

I want to rewatch that movie

because I honestly can’t remember it being that great

But I just can’t.

I want to know why you loved it.

Especially David Bowie.

David Bowie and The Lion King

The Lion King

Specifically Simba

You had a tattoo of him on your chest,

though I can’t really remember what side

I thought it was amazing;

A tattoo seemed so badass but it was of a kids’ movie which I always thought was funny We got into an argument over Lion King 1 1⁄2

I thought it was hysterical but you insisted it was too immature

and nothing could beat the original

I don’t remember what you thought about the CGI remake.

Bowie and The Lion King

What else?

“Where’s my hat?”

Do you remember that game?

You made my Littlest Pet Shop walrus wander around my bedroom floor in an eternal search for his hat

We played his daughters who were seals for some reason (?)

We tried and tried and tried but the closest we got to his hat was a toy rowboat

The furthest we got was my dresser

“Is this my hat?”

Bowie and The Lion King and Mr. Walrus (who I did try and find to let you see him one last time but man the closest I got were those fucking seals)

What else did I know about you?

You were a writer

Never saw your book published but hey that’s okay

Your friend, Kat, is trying now

I think it was about vampires? A vampire romance?

I’m not sure

I’m not sure I could read it even if I got the chance

I mean

I don’t think I can enjoy it.

It might be really good but if I can’t stop thinking about the hand holding the pen behind the words

Actually it’s probably not a pen

This isn’t the 80s

I tried to write a book

I always wanted to be like you

With your short hair, tattoos, and kissing girls

You got me a binder with the Hogwarts crest on it one Christmas

And I’ll be damned if I didn’t tear every page from my notebook to stick it in that binder I remember wanting to show you it

To have you read it

That was until I was 80 pages in and realized I’m no good at writing

Well I’m still writing

Not a full novel

That’d be pretty rude of me to publish a book when you weren’t around long enough to, wouldn’t it?

But short stories

RPG campaigns

This.

Bowie and The Lion King and Mr. Walrus and books

What else?

Your hair

Heh

You know it was always my goal to do what you did? Wait until it was super long

Then chop it all off and donate it

That’s still my plan

Hasn’t changed

Might not shave my head like you did though

I remember you showing up to our elementary school production of Treasure Island with your head shaved

Mema was so annoyed by it

But I didn’t mind

I thought you looked so cool

And I thought, “When I’m that age I’m going to shave my head, pierce my nose, get a million tattoos, and be a writer”

I don’t want that anymore But I still think you’re cool

Bowie and The Lion King and Mr. Walrus and books and hair

Cats

You liked cats

Not the musical (at least I hope, I don’t actually know)

But cats

We used to call you a “crazy cat lady” but now we all know you weren’t a lady but the statement still stands

You were obsessed. Nobody needs that many cats.

Bowie and The Lion King and Mr. Walrus and books and hair and cats

What else did I know about you

Your pronouns

Your sexuality

You liked Avatar the Last Airbender Star Wars

Dragons

Disney

Rent and other musicals Harry Potter

And Lord of The Rings

I don’t know what else

I think you liked mugs and Percy Jackson and stuffed animals but I genuinely can’t remember

I wonder if you liked Stranger Things or the Owl House or other shows I like

Or jewelry

Or if we had anything in common at all

I always thought

Hey, if he wants to talk to me he will And you would’ve

And that’s okay

It’s not

But it is

I always thought

When I’m older

We’ll talk

He’ll get better and we’ll talk and you know what?

We did

We had like 3 hours together

After not talking for like 8 goddamn years

I’m not naive enough to blame myself

I know I couldn’t have changed anything

I wish I could’ve but it would be pointless to list everything I could’ve done differently to make you not want to do that

You’re good

And at the end of the day it’s your choice

I can be mad at you or the world for putting you in that place but it’s not going to change the fact that if you wanted to be alive

You would be.

It sucks

It does

But no matter what you did or didn’t do

I still love you

and I still think you’re cool as hell

I just wish I knew more about you than

David Bowie and The Lion King

[erodasfishtacos]

#HendallReunited

prompt: request was to write broad but to write something angsty

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: language, sexual content, angst

Harry always had issues with saying ‘no’ to people. He never quite grew out of his manners even when he should have.

He said ‘yes’ to way too many things- signing autographs for rude fans and paparazzi, and agreed to way too many things Jeff suggested.

Saying yes to everything didn’t make his life any easier is the thing. Especially when it came to his wife. She was usually left with the aftermath of him being too nice.

The media painted Y/N in a negative light occasionally and so did the fans because she would stand up for Harry and not let him say ‘yes’ to every single request.

She would tell disrespectful fans he’s not signing autographs because of the way they were screaming and interrupting his work.

Harry wished he could do it himself - admired that his wife didn’t give a fuck what people thought about her. He cared entirely too much what the world would think.

The couple didn’t fight about much - no, not really. Normal couple stuff for the most part. But this was the exception, this is where Y/N found most of their turmoil.

Every few months it would rear it’s ugly head and they’d find themselves in the same position over and over again.

This time - it was really fucking bad.

The couple had been staying in their Los Angeles home for the last few months whilst the singer finalized his album and began promotion.

It was boring meeting among boring lunch outings to get all their ducks in a row. Jeff - his manager the main orchestrator.

He was a great manager and a good friend, but it was also business too which Harry didn’t always comprehend.

At the end of the day, Harry was making Jeff millions upon millions of dollars. But Harry didn’t think that way.

**

Harry was in a stuffy conference room at the The Late Late Show to work on the script and ideas for the show. Promo had been nonstop.

He was a bit tired as it was nearly just hitting eight in the morning and he had been up late with you - having some late night loving in the hot tub.

“As for guest - Kendall Jenner,” James Corden’s producer states. All the men agree but Harry is taken aback.

“Why...why would we have my ex-girlfriend as one of my guests?” Harry interrupts, confusion knitting his brows.

Kendall and him didn’t end on a bad note - not at all. They hooked up a few times after their ‘break-up’ but once he’d met Y/N she was understanding when he cut it off.

Y/N wasn’t necessarily jealous of the model, but didn’t love when they’d run into each other at events. She was still overtly flirty with Harry without much shame. 

Harry also didn’t have an desire to see her or host her as a guest on the show. She was nice but he wasn’t interested in being friends with her. They didn’t have much in common and he was head over heels for his wife.

“The media will eat it up, dude. Harry Styles and Kendall Jenner reunited on a show after four years?” Jeff smiles, the others nodding in amicable agreement.

This is one of this times where Harry needs to say “no,” that it’s disrespectful to his significant other to use an old flame for promo for his album.

He already knows ‘hendall’ will be trending within minutes and he can’t imagine how that would make his parter feel.

“I just...this doesn’t seem like a good idea?” Harry begins hesitantly, making it sound more like a question than a statement. 

“Why not?” Eric, one of the writers asks.

“Y’know, I’m married. I don’t think m’missus would appreciate if I did somethin’ like that just for promotion,” he states, scratching at his jaw uncomfortably.

“Look Styles, we’re not asking you to fuck the girl. It just a interview, c’mon,” The executive producer gruffs - wanting those guaranteed views.

Harry swallows - looking at his manager and then at everyone else at the table looking at him for an affirmative answer.

“Uh-sure,” Harry fumbles, feeling anxiety rise into his throat. Fuck, he’s such a god damn pushover.

He’s trying to find his voice to go back on his agreement but the meeting wrapping up and people are leaving with final handshakes.

**

Harry doesn’t know how to tell Y/N what is going on. He’d been keeping in stored in the back of his mind, not ready to have a blowout.

He never found the perfect time to bring it up and now it was too late. It was the morning of the show and he was due to be at the rehearsals this afternoon.

Harry had finally decided he was going to tell her this morning over coffee but forgot that she had a girl’s day planned with a few friends.

She was already out to breakfast with them when he woke up. His phone had one text from you.

Hi baby. I’m out with the girls. See you at the show tonight. I’ll meet you there around six! Love you!

He was fucked royally and he had no one to blame but himself. Maybe it’d be okay, maybe she’d roll her eyes and tell him he’s an idiot.

Realistically he knew that was just a sweet dream at this point.

—

Harry was fidgety and kept mucking up his lines during rehearsal as it got closer to the showtime and his missus arriving.

Kendall had arrived for hair and makeup without seeing her ex-boyfriend yet. He dreaded seeing the model.

Kendall and Y/N had met a few times at different events. It was always cordial. Kendall was always casual - their relationship was never more than a couple fun dates and sex.

They were kind to each other when they met but he couldn’t deny how much harder his partner kissed him on the mouth afterwards.

Before he know it, his wife is hugging him from behind as he talks to a producer about which cameras to look at.

Y/N noticed the way he tensed up at first and thought about how unusual that was for him. Normally, he’d lean back into her with his full weight causing them both to stumble and laugh.

He slowly, cautiously turns around and his face  relaxes a little bit but not completely. “Hi baby,” he hums, leaning in for a kiss.

“You look so handsome,” she replies, admiring his brown pinstriped suit and her pearl necklace that he’d snagged awhile back. She thought it looked better on him anyways.

“You look even better, s’fuckin’ pretty, love,” he gushes, coming back in for another kiss - a little too sensual for the setting.

She was donned in a cropped white shirt, showing of the smooth expanse of her tummy. An oversized blazer of Harry’s, ripped jeans, and heels. 

Harry thought fleetingly he couldn’t wait to fuck her after the show. Then remembered that mostly wouldn’t happen.

Reggie, the musical lead, slides up to you two. He smiles wide at you, saying, “Can’t believe you agreed to the guest this evening.”

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, Harry’s raise nearly to his forehead, but when she opens her mouth to ask him to explain they’re interrupted.

“Harry!” The leggy model trots over to the little group. Dressed in an interesting one-piece suit that has sewn in heels. She looked beautiful as ever, of course she was a model.

Both of them turn towards the oblivious girl, “Kendall,” Harry replies with a twinge of anxiety - eyes repeatedly looking at his significant other’s profile as multiple emotions flash.

“Hiya, you’re Y/N right?” Kendall smiles kindly, offering her manicured hand.

She accepts, “Yeah, uh-good to see you again.”

Harry knew she had connected the dots quickly in her head. The hurt, confusion, had hit her eyes before narrowing into full-blown rage at her partner.

“I promise I’ll go easy on him,” Kendall jokes before pinching at Harry’s cheek teasingly. The model was a natural flirt with everyone she got along with.

“Oh, sure,” she replies lamely, attempting to not let her feelings burst out in that moment with her husband . She knew it wasn’t Kendall’s fault.

“I’m going to go grab a bite to eat. I’m probably gonna puke when we do ‘spill or fill’. See you guys soon,” the model waves before trailing off with her assistant.

“Did you kn- of course you knew she was your guest,” Y/N seethes, turning to fully face the guilt-stricken-singer.

He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact, “I did.”

“How long have you known for?” She demands to know, keeping her voice at an angry whisper to not draw attention.

Harry wasn’t going to lie to his love, “About two weeks.”

Y/N replies with a laugh, “let me guess, you let Jeffrey talk you into this bullshit, again.”

His silence is all she needs to know it’s true.

“For Christ’s sake, of course,” She huffs bitterly, “what’s even worse is you didn’t fucking tell me. What the fuck?”

Harry bites his lip, not able to rasp out anything but a pathetic, “m’sorry, love.”

He wasn’t usually good at taking responsibility during a fight. He was stubborn at best but he couldn’t deny his way out of this.

“You will be, you-“

They were cut off by the staff, the audience was trailing in and Harry needed to get mic’d up now.

“This conversation isn’t over,” she points her finger at his chest before storming off to the side of the stage where she’d watch from.

Fucking shit.

**

Harry was a performer. It’s easy for him to push things to the back of his mind so he can entertain a enamored audience.

But tonight, he was struggling. Eyes flicking over to the teleprompter more than usual, his demeanor not as vivid and carefree.

Not when his wife was glaring daggers at him from stage right. Her hand constantly at her mouth, biting at her nails - a nervous tick of hers.

“Next up, the one, the only, the beautiful model and one of my good friends, Kendall Jenner!” Harry introduces when she walks out and waves at the crowd.

They hug and when they pull apart they step over to where they were playing the game. Either answer the question or eat a nasty food picked out by the other.

They weren’t allowed to see each other’s questions before the game started- both going on blind which put Harry more on edge.

“Okay, Kendall. Rank the members of One Direction on most to least attractive or you will be eating...” Harry spins the table, “Cow tongue.”

She flinched at the disgusting plate, smirking up at Harry before considering her course of action, “I think I can answer this one.”

He wasn’t looking forward to her answer. Neither was Y/N by the way she nearly shaking her foot off her leg.

“Okay, I got this. You - the most attractive, then uh- Zayn....Louis...Niall...Liam,” she laughs, “but all of you are hot!”

Harry fake laughs and acts like he’s impressed by her answer as the crowd roars and cheers. 

When Kendall picks up her notecard - she laughs in surprise at the question before looking at him with bright eyes.

“Okay, um, bull penis!” She giggles before starting the question, “I’m dying to know this answer. So...your first album HS1 was released four years ago, correct?”

He nods, apprehensive.

“Which songs were about me? Especially was only angel?” She laughs at Harry’s pale expression before without another thought he shovels the rancid food into his mouth.

Harry looks off to the side to see that his missus is no longer sitting there. Just Jeff - who gives him a thumbs up.

**

The first thing he did when the show ended and the lights dimmed was bolt off to Jeff - ignoring Kendall who was about to say something to him.

“Where’d Y/N go?”

He thought she might have went out to get a breathe of fresh air but for the next hour and a half he hasn’t seen her once.

“She said she wasn’t feeling very good. She told me to tell you she’d meet you at home,” Jeff shrugs unbothered.

“Damnit!” Harry curses loudly, ripping out of the microphone and the little pack in his back waistband.

“Harry,” Jeff scolds at his unprofessionalism that was abnormal for him.

“No! Don’t fucking ever ask me to do shit like this again. You fucking knew what questions were on those notecards and you said it wasn’t anything about our previous relationship.”

“Harry-“

“Don’t fucking talk to me. You’re a real shit manager sometimes, you know that? Do not contact me tonight or tomorrow for that matter, you douchebag,” Harry barks before storming off towards the dressing rooms.

All the employees were standing around in shock, staring at the popstar as he ignored everyone around him.

Harry was famously known for being a kind, amicable guy. So it took everyone by surprise to hear him speak like that. Even Jeff was shaken up a little.

—

The house was pitch-black as Harry pulled up. The house’s first floor was lined with large, bay windows and not a single light was on.

He could find one room illuminated which was your bedroom. A dim side lamp must have been flicked on. He imagined her purposely turning off all the lights on the trek up the staircase.

Harry didn’t want to admit how much he was trembling with awful nerves and anticipation as he slowly turns the knob of the shared bedroom.

Y/N wasn’t laying in bed as he expected but found the bathroom door shut tightly. He noticed a little yellow bag with tissue paper off to the side by a dresser.

He knocks on the oak door, not daring to enter without permission.

“What do you want?” Y/N answers, tone flat and emotionless. 

“Can I come in, baby? Please...” He wasn’t ashamed to beg for forgiveness at this point. Hearing the emptiness in her tone scared him shitless.

“I really could care less,” She replies coldly from her spot in the scalding water decorated with bubbles.

Harry had never felt more unsure in his life as he enters the bathroom.  Y/N had gotten proper pissed at him or vice versa before - right before a concert, an award ceremony but she’d never left without him.

Her head was laying against the foam headrest and her body was covered by the soap water. She looked tired and her eyes were puffy from crying.

Harry kneels next to the tub, “look at me, please pet.”

 Y/N takes a moment before turning her head and opening her eyes. They were distant, disappointed in the man in front of her.

“I should have told you about Kendall. I should have put up more of a fight to get someone else on instead,” Harry admits, his hands desperately wanting to reach out for her.

She shakes her head with a heart-wrenching sniffle, “it’s not just tonight, Harry. We’ve had this conversation continuously for three and a half fucking years. You try to please everyone, despite them giving no fucks about you.”

“Are you that much of a pushover? You let your ex-girlfriend flirt with you in front of millions. Do you know how embarrassing and unfair that it to me?” She wipes at her eyes to stop the tears spilling over.

Harry hadn’t thought of it like that - to be honest. But he agrees, it wasn’t fair and downright cruel to do that to her.

What? All because he couldn’t say ‘no’ because he didn’t want people to be mad at him? It was pathetic and ridiculous.

“I-I won’t let it happen again, lovie. I mean it, I truly do,” Harry whimpers reaching over to cup her cheek and wants to cry when she pushes him away.

“You’re a broken record. You’ve said that a million times before but don’t change,”  Y/N points out, eyes boring furiously into his wife’s.

“I’m goi-“

She cuts him off with a sharp edge in her tone, “Just leave me alone, get out.”

The man’s face crumbles and for a second, she wants to just end the fight and makeup but then nothing would change.

“Baby-“

“Get out!” She finally bellows, tears streaming down her face steadily.

He obliges, head hung in defeat as he closes the door behind him. He stands there’s blankly for a second before going to the walk-in closet.

He’s pulling out a fresh pair of cotton underwear and a large sleepshirt for his partner, laying them neatly on the bed.

Harry doesn’t know what to do with himself while he waits so he pulls out his phone to mindlessly scroll.

He throws it against the wall when he sees #hendallreunited is trending number one on Twitter at the moment.

The singer strips down to his briefs and sits with his back against the tufted headboard, staring blankly at the wall.

His eyes catch a neon pink pair of his swimshorts tossed carelessly on the decorative vase in the corner of the room from the night before .

“Fuck, baby - no need to rush,” Harry groans into Y/N ‘s mouth as she pushes him until he’s sat on the edge of their California king.

She reaches impatiently for the tie on his neon pink swimshorts and yanks them off his slim, peach-fuzz thighs before throwing them onto the vase without a care that it was worth over twenty-thousand pounds.

After edging her in the hot tub with his fingers and mouth, she wasn’t waiting any longer before clambering onto his lap, pulling her swim bottoms to the side, and sinking onto him.

He felt guilty when his cock twitched at the thought of it. But when reality set back in, the arousal with the memory evaporated.

It isn’t much longer until the door is pulled open and  Y/N’s padding into the room with a towel secured around her.

She looks at the clothes Harry set out for her and pointedly walks past them to pick out her own nightwear. 

That really shouldn’t make his eyes tear up as he watches her slide on a similar pair of panties and an oversized shirt. Spotting a purpling bruise on her upper in thigh from his mouth.

 Y/N silently walks past the bed and to the bedroom door, looking back before bleakly stating, “I’m going to sleep in the guest room.”

He frowns, wrinkles appearing on his forehead, “You can sleep in here, love. I’ll take the guest room.”

Harry doesn’t get a reply as she just shakes her head and closes the door loudly behind her. 

It’s just - he’s never seen her this upset. She was usually fantastic at communicating her feelings and hashing things out.

She wasn’t one for the silent treatment or ignoring the topic. It had his chest rising faster than usual with anxiety. The serious of it overwhelming him.

He states at the wall for a very long time without wiping the fat tears brimming over his trembling lips.

*

He couldn’t sleep - it was half past three and he hadn’t even laid down or clicked off the lamp.

Harry accepted sleep wasn’t coming so he begins to tidy the already clean room. He picks up the shorts and tossing them in the hamper.

He refolds some joggers he’d carelessly shoved in a drawer and when he went to move the little yellow bag - curiosity got the best of him.

There was no card and he wasn’t sure who it was for or if it had been a gift already give to Y/N that she had returned home with.

Harry really shouldn’t - but he does. Gently tugging out the paper and reaching in to feel fabric.

Pulling it out, it takes him a minute to identify what it is - two baby onesie. Who was having a baby?

He lays them in front of him, eyes widening in surprise as he reads what is printed across the black cotton.

The first one was the colors and font of his upcoming tour merch with the photo he used on his tour announcement with the heeled boot and white pants.

Love on Tour - Due Date: September 2025

With Special Guest Appearance from Baby Styles

The second one was simple and read across the chest:

I’m having your baby (and it is your business) with embroidered kiwis all of over it.

He frantically reached back into the bag to pull out a bundle of pregnancy tests tied with a silk bow.

They weren’t necessarily trying for a baby but they’re weren’t not trying either. Harry wanted a baby as soon as his missus was willing to give him one.

“No, no, don’t one,” she’d whined into his mouth when he’d reached over to grab a condom off the nightstand.

“Oh sweet thing, you want me bare? Fill you up?” He croons happily, coming back to grip at his thick base and tease at her entrance.

“Ye-yeah, H. Please,” (Y/N) whimpers, bucking her hips in the hope he’d slip inside her.

Harry hums, “Might give you a baby though, y’want me to knock you up?”

“Want it, wan-“

He cuts her off with a hard, blissful kiss as he thrusts all the way inside before pulling out to do it again. 

“Gonna give it to you, whatever you want, lovie,” he promises.

The two had never used protection afterwards. It had start about seven months ago and from his knowledge she’d still been getting her periods regularly.

Occasionally, he would palm at her flat tummy and pout, “Haven’t put a baby in you yet, ‘ave I?”

He was so ecstatic but disappointed in himself for ruining everything and pleasing everyone other than who he should be.

Harry needed to fix this. He didn’t want Y/N to lose the excitement of having their baby over a dumb choice of his.

The man’s out of the room and not knocking before entering their guest room. His now pregnant love is laying on-top of the covers.

One hand subconsciously on her belly - which she removes and places next to her when her wife walks in.

The television was on but the volume was low and Y/N wasn’t watching it in the first place anyways.

Harry sits on the edge of the bed, “I opened the yellow bag.”

She looks at him with wide eyes, a little taken aback. she was going to surprise him tonight and forgot to store it away for another time after the fight.

Harry has happy tears dribbling down his cheeks, “you’re having my baby?”

Y/N nods, running a slight hand through his curls. She still had a nasty knot of anger and uncertainty in the pit of her stomach.

It pains her, wanting to share this moment of excitement with Harry but she just couldn’t. The uncertainty of whether Harry would put everybody’s needs before his own baby.

“Come back to bed, want t’talk and celebrate. M’so bloody excited,” Harry murmurs, a large smile decorating his face as he smooths a palm over the expanse of her tummy.

His wife shakes her head and places a hand over his, feeling the cold metal of all of them. “I want to be left alone.”

The twinkle in Harry’s eye diminishes to devastation as he realizes that he’s fucked up so badly that she doesn’t even want to celebrate.

“Pet, can...we just forget about it tonight and be happy ‘bout the baby?” Harry asks selfishly, knowing it was unlikely she’d agree.

She didn’t, a firm expression on her face, “no, I have a lot to think about.”

“Like wha’?” He asks anxiously, unknowing of quite the reason she was so furious.

“Like how you say yes to everything and everyone. We talk and talk about how you need to say ‘no’ and do what’s best for you - for us. You agree to and never follow through”

She takes a shaky breath and continues, “it’s affected our relationship before when you’ve had to cancel our vacation away from all this for a charity concert you’d agree to perform at last minute, dinner reservations because you told your friend we’d be at their art showing they wanted you at.”

Harry knew she was right. He did those things. He wanted everyone to be happy with him - to a fault.

“Tonight was just icing on the cake, you allowed your manager to talk you into hosting your ex on that show. Out of all the people in the world - her. With flirty questions and jabs from her. You let that happen. You care about making everyone happy but in return you don’t care how it affects me. That’s pretty shitty.”

“I’m...I’m really fucking scared you’ll do that even when we have the baby. I need you to put them first and right now...I’m not sure if you’re going to. You can’t put the person you want to spend the rest of your life with first now, how do I know you’ll do it with the baby?”

Harry chokes out a sob as he presses his forehead against the bed, his broad shoulders shaking. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried this hard - years ago maybe. He felt like his wife didn’t have any faith in him and he was to blame.

He looks up at her with swollen eyes - at a loss for what to do or say. He loved her so much and was over the moon that they were going to have a baby.

“How do I fix this, darling? You’re right, I really fucked up. M’sorry,” Harry cries, grabbing at her hands and she allows it.

“Just saying you’re sorry won’t fix it,” Y/N replies flatly, letting Harry squeeze and kiss at the backs of her hands.

“Then what do I bloody do to fix this?” Harry raises his voice in frustration, staring in bewilderment at his wife. 

Y/N narrows her eyes at him, “Do not raise your voice at me, Harry. Actions speak louder than words.”

Harry swallows harshly, pressing one finally kiss to her hand. “Okay.”

“Okay?” She repeats.

“I love you, I’ll fix this,” he promises with conviction. He knew what he needed to do and do it tomorrow. So he and his wife could enjoy her new pregnancy.

“I need space tonight, I just...please”Y/N says quietly, rubbing at his shoulder.

It wasn’t the first time they’ve slept in separate rooms because they weren’t getting along but they normally found their way back to each other before sunrise.

Harry nods, lip still tremble with the residual anxiety of the conversation. She allows him to press a soft kiss to her mouth before leaving the room.

—-

Cafe Habana was busy - but no one was paying much attention to Harry and Jeff. It was the morning after and Harry had demanded a meeting over breakfast with his manager.

“Y/N pregnant,” Harry states bluntly after their drinks arrive.

“Oh? Congratulations, dude. That’s exciting!” Jeff leans over to pat him on the shoulder, a big smile.

“The baby is due in September. My next tour starts in next July. The baby will be about nine months. I want to be at home with them for the first year.”

Jeff doesn’t look pleased, “what are you getting at Harry?”

“Reschedule the July and August tour dates. Tack them on to the end of the tour,” Harry lays out flat. 

He hadn’t talk to his wife about this but he knew this was how he could prove that he could say ‘no’ and not be a pushover.

“No Harry. Look I get you’re excited about the baby - but that will be such a fucking hassle,” Jeff frowns, sipping his mimosa.

“I’m not asking, Jeff. I’m telling you that’s what needs to happen,” Harry replies firmly, tone strong and unwavering.

Jeff is definitely taken aback by his client’s conviction. 

“While we’re on the topic, do not ever put me in a situation like you did yesterday. It affected my wife and I. And I will choose her over this career any day.”

The manager nods in surprise, “Harry, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not asking for an apology but if you ever pull something like then I’ll be looking for a new management team. Are we clear?” 

Jeff once again nods, unsure of where this is coming from but at the thought of losing his biggest client would be disastrous so he’d do whatever to accommodate him.

“Consider it done,” he tells Harry before clearing his throat in a slight panic.

—

Y/N woke up to an empty house. She was restless, she asked Harry to prove to her that he could be what she needed. However, it was a bit unfair because she didn’t know how he could do it.

It’s just…she had a baby to think about. They both needed to be put first and if it took a gnarly fight for Harry to realize it...so be it.

“Baby? Love, where are you?” She hears Harry echo through the whole house. She was sat in the kitchen, on a stool by the island, idly sorting through mail.

“In here!”

Harry jogs in, panting like he sprinted from the garage up to the kitchen. He comes to stand in front of the love of his life.

“I might have not completely fixed everything but...I tried,” Harry tells her, cradling her face in his large palms. “ I just got back from lunch with Jeff. I told him about the baby.”

He takes a deep breath before continuing, “I rescheduled tour dates so I can be with you guys at home in London for the first year. Then...maybe you guys can join me after?”

“Harry…” she’s at a loss for words.

“And I told Jeff that if he ever puts me in a situation like that again, I’m firing him.”

Y/N stares at him, in awe and admiration of the man she chose to marry and keep forever. His face was so sincere and vulnerable.

Harry didn’t know whether it would be enough. If it wasn’t he’d keep trying but all he could do was hope. He waited with bated breath as she processed his words.

“Baby, you-for me?” She murmurs as she stands up and crowds into his space. He instantly wraps her up into a tight hug, missing her touch.

“Of course, pet. I’d do anything for you, I mean it. I’d quit this whole career if you wanted tha’,” he tells her truthfully - lips brushing her forehead.

“I love you, so so much,” Y/N murmurs, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“We’re havin’ a baby,'' Harry sighs dreamily into her mouth, tongue sliding against hers. A large hand came to palm at her belly.

“Yeah, m‘having your baby,” She giggles as he begins to trail the kisses down her jaw and neck - pressing her into the marble countertop.

“Should we name it Kiwi?” Harry rasps as he slides the tank top strap off her shoulder so his lips can meet the cap of her warm shoulder.

“We are not going to be that celebrity couple who names their baby something weird,” Y/N groans as he grounds his hips into hers with intent.

THE END

[1kook]

crunchyroll & rail

the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !

SUMMARY Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. WARNINGS smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… MISC fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality, RATING m (18+) WC 8.7k

NOTE (!) the smut in this chapter is relatively short ! I was more concerned with writing this monumental step in their relationship, so sorry to all the lads who come here specifically for the p0rn but today we focus on the l0ve <333 anyway nc 10!!!!! Can u fuckin believe….

Jungkook mentions it at the dinner table one night. You’re not eating— well, you are not eating; Jungkook has been stocking up on his protein intake like a madman —but finishing up some work you had brought home. Your back aches, your eyes burn. The mere sound of his soft voice has all those feel-good endorphins shooting through your nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. “We should take a trip,” he says, fork clattering against his plate to signify the end of his feast. 

Your fingers tap across your keyboard, eyes flickering between an Excel sheet and the report you’re typing out. It takes you a moment to respond, a delayed, “huh,” that even Jungkook doesn’t find convincing.  

In the background, you’re listening to what has to be one of the worst voiceovers of the original Sailor Moon series in a language you don’t even understand. But you know the series like the back of your hand, know what exactly is happening even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, because you’ve watched it only about a million times. It’s mostly just there for background purposes anyway, some white noise to try and replicate the noisy soundtrack of your office. 

To make matters worse—complicated?—, you had been too lazy to get onto your usual pirating sites and had settled for the five minute, five part, 240p clips of Sailor Moon on YouTube (you know the ones), and Jungkook has to wait until Episode 74: Part ⅖ ends before you grace him with a proper response. “Where do you wanna go, baby?” you ask, giving your eyes a break from the data as you move to scour YouTube for Episode 74: Part 3/5. 

He’s stretching back now, arms wound up above his head. His hair— god, his hair —is an ashy color now, a faded version of its golden ancestor from a few months ago. Soon, he’s planning on going back to brown, claims he’s getting too old to be dying his hair, whatever that means. For now, you watch his inked fingers run through his scalp; he looks delectable. Maybe you’re hungrier than you initially thought. Or at least thirstier. “A cabin,” he suggests, and he offers this little half shrug that would otherwise seem normal had you not been well-versed in the art of Jungkook Body Language. His front teeth nibble at his lip, eyes laser focused on his empty plate. Even now, he still gets nervous asking you out. That thought alone makes your ego soar as high as an airplane. “Just something small.”

Usually, “something small” with Jungkook ends up being something big and, in most cases, something expensive. Which you’re totally not opposed to— you’re at the point in your relationship where you don’t even bother trying to dissuade Jungkook from showering you with gifts. It’s one of his many, many, many, many forms of loving you and, well, he knows you like the back of his hand. He rarely misses. 

Lo and behold, it is a grander affair than a simple cabin. “Well, it’s more like a resort,” he confesses, reaching across the table for your hand. Immediately, his thumb finds itself rubbing over the simple band of your promise ring. “Just wanna do something nice for you. I know you’ve been tired lately,” he adds on, voice a quiet murmur that nearly gets lost under the intensity of the pout that appears whenever he becomes even the slightest bit bashful. 

You smile, the fondness in your heart skyrocketing to impossible heights when he lifts your hand to press those pretty petal lips against your knuckles. “Well, just let me know when,” you tell Jungkook. “So I can request time off from work.” 

Episode 74: Part 3/5 starts playing after an ad, and you’d pause it for the sake of preserving this moment with Jungkook, but it’s hidden under so many tabs on your laptop that you lose it the second you leave the tab. Jungkook’s head tilts to the side, sending his ashy locks cascading beautifully. “You know that show is on Crunchyroll,” Jungkook says, seemingly moving past his bout of shyness now. “And you have the password.” 

“Do I,” you murmur, but he’s lost you once more, your true talent of typing with one hand showing itself as you return to your Excel sheet, the other still firmly squeezed in his grasp. Jungkook releases soon enough anyway, cleans up the table quickly, and disappears off into the kitchen. He sings when he washes the dishes, likes to pretend he’s a terrible singer even though you’ve told him countless times he could easily take X Factor by storm. (And you know exactly what it takes to wow those judges— you spent the entire last month psychotically watching multiple X Factor seasons from multiple different countries, nearly considered joining the damn audition yourself.) The horribly dubbed Sailor Moon is yelling now, shrieking really, and Jungkook calls from the kitchen, “don’t forget to take your contacts out, sweetheart.” 

It’s domestic and it's nerve-wracking. 

You want Jungkook, that much is a fact. Aristotle and Socrates and that other guy could debate the philosophical intricacies of the world, turn this dimension in on itself until it was a scrambled mess of emotion and thought, but the one thing they could never change, could never even question, is your love for your boyfriend. You want Jungkook badly, but more importantly, you want Jungkook forever. 

And you’re sure Jungkook probably, maybe, hopefully feels that way too. But the way you feel is… slightly concerning to say the least. For starters, you’re convinced your love for Jungkook was meant to be, and that’s saying a lot coming from you. You’re not one for cheesy, soulmate tales— that was more Jungkook’s thing —but the more you think about it, the more you become convinced that you and Jungkook were destined to meet. Like the planets aligned one year, the stars conferred, a tectonic plate somewhere in California shifted; whatever it may have been, something happened somewhere that led to the birth of this beautiful romance of yours. 

Lately, being with Jungkook has this inexplicably fiery feeling blossoming in your chest, these waves of emotion that sometimes have you fantasizing about the weirdest of scenarios with him. Like yelling at him for not taking the garbage out on time, or bumping into each other as you make dinner in the kitchen, or buying a new rug together. 

(Most drastically, the other day, you had a dream where you were pregnant and Jungkook was there and there was a house and a dog and an annoyingly friendly neighbor and this god-awful tile in the bathroom.) 

Long story short, you’ve been fantasizing about a forever with Jungkook. The concerning part is the timing; was this too early? You’re nearly halfway through your second year with Jungkook now, and you know most people date for many, many years before the mere thought of union even occurs to them. In another life, maybe you were the same, would have held off until the very last moment. But with Jungkook things just feel right (at least for you), like there wasn’t going to be anyone else after him. And you sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be. 

You slump back into your seat, eyes fluttering shut. Too many thoughts swirl around your mind, and the screech of the Sailor Moon voiceover on screen certainly doesn’t help. How you managed to spiral that far down your thoughts in the span of one 240p, five minute clip of a larger episode amazes even you. To add onto your worries, the clip abruptly ends and Episode 74: Part ⅘ is nowhere in sight, a fact that draws a frustrated moan out of the already sensitive you. 

Luckily, Jungkook eventually returns, standing closely behind you. His presence is enormous, the room suddenly overflowing with a shit ton of those feel-good endorphins all over again, except this time they reach an all-time high when he leans over and quietly shuts your laptop. “Come sleep,” he says softly, and it’s a pleasant mixture of his genuinely caring voice and that horndog purr of his that lures you into bed. And it’s that same voice that croons softly into your ear, fingers nestled between your folds until you’re orgasming yourself into a deep slumber. 

Much to no one’s surprise, the cabin turns out to be quite the luxurious lodging; two floors of dark oak everywhere you turn, a stunning stone fireplace in the bedroom, and a truly breathtaking view of the resort’s snowy hill (read: front row seats to watch all the snowboarders and skiers wipe out in the snow). Jungkook had splurged quite the pretty penny on it, so you make a point to clap it up for him when he first opens the door to your temporary home for the weekend. 

The main bedroom is beyond words. It’s got an attached balcony (that you doubt you’ll be using in this chilly weather), and a wooden canopy bed that makes you feel like a royal (that you will certainly be using). It’s separated into two areas, the bed space and a tiny entertainment area on the other side of the room. Perhaps the best thing about the room— and the cabin itself —is the huge, smart TV mounted above said stone fireplace and the fact it allows the phone mirroring option in lieu of not having any streaming sites. And as is with every and anything to do with televisions, Jungkook is the most excited of the two of you. “Baby, look,” he beams, pointing excitedly at whatever he’s got mirrored onto the television this time. Knowing him, it’s probably another documentary. 

You had the forethought to finish your work before the trip, spent two days in the office going absolutely ham on this month’s final reports until your department head promptly sent you home to finish the rest there. You had given yourself a fright upon entering the bathroom that night, the state of your under eyes so severe, you feared it was sufficient cause for a national emergency. Similarly, Jungkook had done the same with his work, cooped himself up in his study until he was free from the shackles of capitalism for the weekend. All this to say you’ve missed him these past few days. 

But even though you’re sorely malnourished in the affection department and craving a good kiss or two, you wouldn’t dare interrupt one of Jungkook’s little nerdy, tech-induced fanboy moments. They’re cute, in their own geeky way, providing some insight to a mellower side of your boyfriend who looks on with childlike wonder; Jungkook’s eyes always get so big when he talks about nerdy stuff. You get to work hanging up the silk shirt he packed for tomorrow night’s fancy dinner at the resort, listening to some British narrator’s detailed description of the functionally extinct Northern white rhinos living under 24-hour surveillance in Kenya.  

(Jungkook’s really into nature documentaries again, had spent a few nights sniffling as he watched that one Koko the gorilla film.) 

The original plan was to head to the nearest store and whip up something small to eat at the cabin. But Jungkook is a little tired from the long drive, slumps down into the couch in front of the now lit fireplace like a limbless blob as he tunes into his documentary. His nose is a little red from the outside chill. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You love him so much, you fear you’ll accidentally squeeze his cheeks to death. It’s a thought that occurs more times than you’d like. 

According to the pamphlet on the nightstand, the resort has its own room-service to order from. Normally you would do that, but not this time; you had gotten into a bit of a squabble with the man at the front desk after he had tried to withhold Jungkook’s reservation for arriving two minutes past your check-in time, called each other all sorts of names before he backed down and gave you your room key. So you’re still a little salty, to say the least. Instead, you settle in for some pizza in front of the huge TV, calling up the nearest place to order some of Jungkook’s and your favorites. 

You plop down beside him, instinctively cuddling closer when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “So,” you start, flipping through the rest of the resort’s introductory pamphlet. There’s a loud roar on screen. In all honesty, you didn’t even know what Northern white rhinos sounded like until then, and you probably never would have if not for the man beside you. “What are you in the mood for tonight, sweet boy?” 

You’re not sure if it’s the fatigue or the overall relaxed vibes he’d been exuding since the moment you entered the cabin, but Jungkook is weirdly cooperative today. “Whatever you want,” he responds, head on your shoulder. He even places the remote in your hands, gives your enclosed fist a gentle tap as if he’s just handed you the secret to eternal youth. In other words, it’s a rare sight to behold. “This is your trip, pretty girl.” 

You appreciate the sentiment, but feel the need to clear the air, tucking your feet up onto the couch as you snuggle closer. “Our trip,” you clarify, and snatch the remote anyway before he changes his mind. 

Jungkook releases a quiet huff of laughter, head rolling back against the couch cushions to display his thick, juicy neck that definitely doesn’t awaken any vampiric tendencies in you. “We can even watch some anime if you want,” he murmurs, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders in a way that would have made any teenage girl in the early 2000s squeal with excitement. It’s one of those barely there touches, but the way he holds you makes you feel so safe and warm and loved. So loved and in love. “The ones on Crunchyroll, though.”

For the sake of preserving these good vibes (and your ears [and Jungkook’s sanity]), you navigate to the Crunchyroll app on your phone, quickly finding your latest obsession and mirroring it onto the big television before Jungkook can react. “Sailor Moon?” he asks with a tone that implies a feigned interest, mostly out of respect for you; he’s, sadly, still not the big dorky anime fan you had hoped to convert him into. 

“In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you,” you recite dutifully, snatching up the throw blanket on the end of the couch. It’s barely big enough to cover the both of you, has Jungkook’s outstretched legs and your booty subject to the chilly air. Who cares, Jungkook is a furnace anyway. 

He snorts. “Punish me,” he mumbles, as if he doesn’t believe it. His snarky comment wins him a playful pinch against his doughy cheek, not that he particularly defends himself against it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as you tug at the pale skin. 

“Don’t fuck with the moon, Jungkook,” you warn him, snuggling closely against his side as your favorite opening song begins filtering through the speakers of the television before you. It’s infinitely better than the 240p YouTube clips you had subjected yourself to the entire last week, the graphics scarily clear. 

“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, but a hint of amusement seems to curl around the sound anyway. Nevertheless, he lets it go, cuddles into your side as you pour your full focus into watching yet another group of ragtag teenagers with supernatural abilities kick some ass. 

You can tell Jungkook isn’t really into it, and you’re torn between just snuggling him into a well deserved nap or taping his eyelids open so he can become a fan of this show with you. 

The loving, caring, adoring side of you says Jungkook deserves the entire world and more (the more in question preferably being a fluffy blanket and a nap). He worked hard this week, just like you, and on top of that he was the one who planned this entire weekend getaway for the two of you to enjoy. You want him to rest up.

The obnoxiously in love girlfriend-slash-best friend in you says Jungkook is sorely missing out on one of the greatest shows on planet Earth and that naps are for the weak. 

Your jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound on the television, a yelp from Ms. Sailor Moon herself that has you jolting up in surprise. Jungkook welcomes you deeper into his embrace, chuckles at your little fright. “Scared?” he teases in that low voice that makes you feel like you’re going crazy, really. So crazy and irrational, and the only thing that stops you from bombarding him with an unexpected outpouring of love is that hard and sharp thing that pokes your side when you get too close to him. It’s not Jungkook, sadly, but something in the front pocket of his hoodie instead. 

And for some reason, part of your brain is stuck all of a sudden, rewinding the last two and a half years like a broken cassette tape that had the tape reel hastily stuffed back inside by a toddler. It’s choppy to say the least, and it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook calls your name softly, tenderly. “__,” he murmurs. It’s a little weird; it’s not often he says your name, mostly referring to you with one of the many pet names from that part of his vocabulary that focuses exclusively on terms of endearment. Your heart skips a beat. 

Now, if anyone were to ask, it’s approximately around this time that you begin to spiral. The pink curve of his bottom lip is just too close, the mole on his nose too prominent. Paired with the obnoxious tittering of Usagi on screen, you can feel your thoughts begin to overlap, bumping into each other within the realm of your brain until all that comes out are the messiest of messy thoughts. 

They go like this: 

Most episodes of any anime run for approximately thirty minutes. Take out the commercial breaks, the opening and ending credits, and it becomes something closer to twenty. Twenty minutes per episode, filled with plot and gags and tears and whatever else necessary to make you feel something, anything really. 

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask tentatively. 

In contrast, it takes approximately two seconds for Jungkook’s lips to quirk up— first the right side, always the right side —and his eyes to crinkle. Two seconds for him to smile, a sweet expression that reminds you of Netflix and college and quiet laughter and tattoos and silly YouTube videos and cookies and cell phones and job applications and blond hair; two seconds to make you feel everything all at once. 

“There’s nothing,” he says, but his cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the cold anymore. His smile is so big it makes your own cheeks ache just looking at it. You can’t even hear the television anymore. Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. “It was supposed to be for tomorrow,” he admits, unwrapping his arm from around you. 

It’s a little funny, somehow, because his hands are covered in ink, in tiny doodles and intricate pieces of swirls and words that ooze this aura of strength and toughness. But they tremble when he opens it, as unsteady as a wispy dandelion on a windy day, fumbling with the box. And when you look closely, he’s been biting at the skin along his thumb again, that nervous habit you’ve been trying forever to help him overcome. 

Someone is saying something on screen, something important to the plot. The volume is loud, but not as loud as your heart. Not as loud as Jungkook’s quiet murmur when he speaks again. “Will you marry me?” he asks softly, looks at you with flushed cheeks and big eyes and his heart on his sleeve. 

The answer has always been the same, hasn’t changed since the first time he planted the seed in your mind. Still, it catches in your throat, nearly loses out to a surprised and emotional sob that you barely manage to bite down. You had just been speaking, had just been ready to deliver a whole spiel on the importance of him watching Sailor Moon with you. But when you try now, it’s raspy and dry, as if you haven’t used your voice in years. “I— yes,” you exhale, surprised by the lonely tear that trails down your cheek. You go to wipe it away, but Jungkook beats you with a gentle hand cupping your cheek. 

His smile is wobbly, patches of red blossoming across his face that eventually consume his entire appearance as he leans his forehead against yours. Only then do you realize he’s crying, and you laugh out of reflex. “You’re crying,” you say, and Jungkook snorts. 

“You cried first,” he sniffles, smiling. “You made me cry.” 

He looks like a wreck, but, like, a hot wreck. An engaged, hot wreck who’s eyes flicker back to the TV to remind you to pause your anime, always so considerate. You do, hastily smashing buttons on the remote before remembering it’s controlled by your phone, hands flying back and forth as your nerves actively work to retire themselves after Jungkook’s proposal. “Easy there,” he soothes, eventually catching your hand in his, drawing it up for a kiss against your knuckles. 

The ring fits perfectly, snuggly. Vaguely, a memory drifts through your thoughts of Jungkook and Doyeon on a rampant mission to reorganize your jewelry box a few months ago, but it disappears as quickly as it came. You’re taken by the ring, a simple band with a pretty diamond on top. It’s a good mixture of you and him; flashy yet mild. 

“You love me,” you marvel, a revelation you’ve had the honor of experiencing time and time again with Jungkook. Still, it never fails to render you speechless. He hums. 

“I do,” he says, taking your hand in his. “It’s the easiest thing for me. Like breathing, or existing. I think I was made to love you.” And normally, you’d be the first one to correct him. Jungkook was made for so much more, a fact he’s proven time and time again with his abilities and the sheer size of his heart. He was your golden boy, could do anything he set his mind to. Always amazing you, always making you fall in love all over again. 

But now, with the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air, you find yourself incapable of negating the fact, instead sniffling at the meaning. 

Pleased with your silence, Jungkook places another chaste kiss against your ring. “I love you, __,” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. Your entire body feels as if it is doused in gasoline, lit aflame over and over again. Your heart threatens your rib cage, pounds away with the strength of a world renowned boxer. Jungkook’s hands curl around your wrists carefully. “I used to think we were like the moon and the sun,” he admits, “that you were my sun and I was your moon. In love but always separated by those thin veils of the sunrise and the sunset.” He pauses, nuzzling sweetly against your palm once more before gently guiding them down between the two of you. “But that really sucks— saying goodbye to you every night? I hate that, __. I hate watching you leave, I hate watching you run off in the mornings or halfway through the day, having to drive back and forth from your place to mine. I hate having to be away from you when all I wanna do is hold you. I— I want to be by your side,” he rambles, eyes nervously meeting yours. They’re still glassy, dark lashes framing his chocolate irises wonderfully. “Forever.” 

Your heartbeat stutters, the simple word looping itself in your mind like that night in his dining room all over again, all the fantasies of having a forever with Jungkook bubbling to the surface. Jungkook pushes on. “You are my sun,” he says softly, mostly to himself. “But… I don’t wanna be the moon anymore. Being the moon means, eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye. In the night or in the morning, it always comes to an end. And I don't want there to be an end with you,” he insists, clutching your hand tightly. “I wanna be another star, the closest one to you. The one who gets to be with you forever. I wanna be by you and shine with you and—“

“Explode into a gazillion little fragments of cosmic dust with me,” you offer, and Jungkook nods along eagerly, too amped up on his speech to bother scolding you for your playful comment. 

“Yes, I want to— to—“ The words catch in his throat. So much emotion from the man you once thought was the dictionary definition of calm and collected. “To—“ 

“Marry me,” you fill in, and Jungkook practically blows a fuse from how emotionally fired up he’s become, exclaiming a resolute, “yes!” that leaves you stupidly grinning back at him. 

His outburst leaves him with flushed cheeks. “I do,” he reiterates in a softer tone, averting his gaze from you as if embarrassed by his cheesy outpouring of emotion. Usually, it’s the other way around; you make all the corny declarations of love and Jungkook laughs along suavely. It feels nice to have the tables turned. 

There’s so much to say, but the words all fade away when Jungkook shyly looks at you again. You settle on tackling him back onto the couch cushions, taking his surprised little yelp in stride as you suffocate him in your embrace. “Save those words for the big day, superstar,” you giggle, peppering his red face with tiny kisses that make him scrunch up cutely. “I can’t wait to blow up into one huge supernova with you.” 

Beneath you, Jungkook groans. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, voice muffled against your shoulder. Begrudgingly, his arms come up to envelope you, pulling you closer until the blanket scrunches up uncomfortably between you two. “That must’ve sounded so lame.” 

Leaning back so you’re not completely squishing him, you carefully push his silvery hair away from his forehead. “Don’t be,” you assure him, placing one chaste peck against his pouty lips. “I thought it was cute. I didn’t know you were into astrology.” 

A sigh. “Astronomy,” he corrects, “astrology has to do with zodiac signs and placements.” 

You run your thumbs over his cheeks, collecting any of the drying tears that paint his face. “Oh, like how you’re a Virgo and I’m a“— 

The TV remote you had lost somewhere along the way is suddenly rematerialized beneath your knee, sends the speakers blaring to life with a deafening screech that has both you and Jungkook leaping up like two frightened cats. “You always do this,” he laughs, that loud boyish sound that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. He watches you with a gentle smile as you hurriedly shut off the television, the remote haphazardly tossed somewhere behind you afterwards. You return to his embrace, wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his warmth. His heart thumps a steady rhythm beneath your ear. 

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever,” you warn him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like he’ll suddenly disintegrate before your eyes.

Above you, Jungkook hums, placing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I look forward to it,” he responds, pulling you impossibly closer, until you can feel the wrinkles in his shirt imprinting themselves against your cheek. He’s back to being that suave bastard again, and you find yourself wishing you had milked those big crocodile tears out of him for just a little bit longer. 

Fingers gently press against the muscles in your nape, push themselves in deeply until you can feel all the tension seeping out, turning you into a limbless blob over Jungkook. “Jeez,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “And you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I just thought you’d rather get engaged at a fancy restaurant with a pretty dress,” he defends, and you can hear the grin on his face. “For the photos.”

“Fair point,” you concede, eventually pushing yourself up so you’re not entirely squishing your boyfriend beneath you. Jungkook is already looking at you when you lift your head, has got this funny double-chin from this angle that makes his normally sharp jawline disappear. You find yourself tapping a finger against his chin, on the chocolate chip mole that hides itself beneath his plump bottom lip. “If anything, just propose to me again tomorrow at the restaurant.”

It wins you an eye-roll. “I’m not gonna propose to you again tomorrow,” he laughs, doesn’t even push you away when you become annoying and start tapping your fingers against all his beauty marks like you’re playing Whack-a-Mole. 

“Booo,” you frown, but let it go soon enough, foregoing your little game to press your lips against his. “Then I better make this a night to remember,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

Your hands dip into his luscious locks, fingernails tracing thin lines along his scalp that are certain to send tingles down his spine. As predicted, Jungkook releases a quiet groan soon after, a sound that’s muffled against your own lips. He’s pliant tonight, but not in a way that would elude fatigue. Pliant in a way that suggests he wants you to take the reins tonight, exhaling softly against you as he parts his lips. 

“Let me take care of you,” you hum, the hand that had been mindlessly hovering along his cheek drifting down to caress the side of his neck. Jungkook nods, his irises swimming in lust. You smile at his silent compliance, give his throat a light squeeze that makes his breathing hitch in surprise. 

He’s always at his prettiest when he’s beneath you like this, limbs moving in slow motion as you guide him along. You can already feel the beginnings of his arousal stirring beneath the front of his sweats, his cock slowly making its presence known against your thigh. You press your lips against his once more, making sure to make it rougher than the first kiss. Your tongue is met with little resistance, slips past his lips and dips into the hot cave of his mouth where Jungkook releases another trembling breath. 

Two hands come up behind you, trail themselves over your back and down to your ass, where he gives the two globes a tight squeeze. It draws a whimper out of you, one that Jungkook greedily swallows up. His tongue rubs up along yours, the wet muscle daringly pushing back against yours. His rebelliousness is only quelled with another press of your fingertips around his throat.

“Slow down,” you tell him. The first roll of your hips against him is slow, cruel in that you cut the motion short just as Jungkook begins to push back. A bratty huff escapes him, swollen pink lips pushing out into that endearing pout you love so much. It makes you grin, releasing the grip around his throat to carefully brush a stray strand of hair away from his eyes. 

It’s a gesture that works to soften Jungkook as well, the petulant look on his face melting away as you trail your pointer finger along his cheekbone. It’s replaced with a more tender one, dark lashes blinking up at you slowly. “Open,” you command upon reaching his mouth, finger pressing down against his pink lower lip. Jungkook obeys, opening his mouth until you can see his pink tongue and the dark abyss that leads down his throat. Your finger pushes itself in, and Jungkook certainly doesn’t try to resist. His lips suction around the digit fairly quickly, tight enough to keep you there but loose enough for you to slowly draw your finger in and out, each short plunge pressing down against his tongue. 

It’s a rather short affair, one that comes to an end when he accidentally bucks up against you, pressing his hardened member against your core. You retract your finger.  “Can you,” he tries, but his cheeks are stained red and he refuses to meet your gaze. “Just…” 

You intercept him with a chaste peck, maneuvering your legs until your knees are firmly pressed into the couch cushions beneath him, his thin waist trapped in between. When you sit up, you feel drunk on power and the way Jungkook looks up at you certainly doesn’t help. “Can I sit on your face?” 

He chokes. “I— sure, please,” he blurts out. His gaze follows you as you slip off of him, quickly discarding your pants and top on the floor. One pat against his thigh has him hurrying to shimmy out of his clothes, his sweatpants caught around his ankles. 

“You’re excited,” you laugh, stripping him of his bottoms when the frustration takes him over. 

Jungkook scoffs. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, tugging his shirt off with one smooth motion. The ink around his bicep is as dark as ever, contrasts wonderfully against his warm face. “My fiancée is gonna sit on my face.”

The title makes you preen, quickly finding your place on his lap once more. With your clothing out of the way, Jungkook really does become a furnace. Every inch of his body is hot to the touch, soft too. “Fiancée,” you giggle, hands on his chest. They slide down, fingers playfully nudging his brown nipples. Jungkook flinches at the touch. “Gonna sit on my fiancé’s face,” you parrot back, delicately pinching one nipple between your fingers. A moan spills from his lips, his cock pushing against your thigh once more.

It’s the reminder you need, pushing back dutifully against him as you continue to toy with his chest. He’d look pretty with piercings, you find yourself thinking, watching on in fascination at the way his pert nipples stand at attention. Beneath you, Jungkook begins to grow desperate, his hands finding their place on your waist to encourage you to grind down against him once more. 

Jungkook swears up and down that he’s not particularly sensitive about having his nipples touched. But when you’ve got him like this, sinfully laid out before you, you can easily confirm that his claims are nothing but lies. He loves having his nipples touched, squirms beneath you impatiently with each playful tug and twist you bestow upon them. 

You duck down, pressing a kiss against his pectoral, just beside his nipple, and Jungkook’s entire body shivers. A few careful drags of your tongue against his warm skin only serve to string him along further, the prettiest whimper pulling itself from his lips when you finally envelope one of them in your mouth. “Wait,” he gasps, clawing at your clothing as if he both wants to push you off and push you closer. You grin, brandishing one mean nip at the sensitive nub. 

Eventually, your incessant need to play with Jungkook’s chest is fulfilled. “Lay back,” you instruct, watching as he shuffles down flat on the cushions, silver hair tumbling away from his eyes. He’s so red, eyes hazy. Your panties are discarded, joining the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor. 

Once upon a time, the idea of sitting on Jungkook’s face had terrified you, filled you with nightmares of crushing his windpipe or breaking his nose. For the most part, they’re pretty unrealistic fears, ones that can be easily shut down after one careful Google search on safe sexual practices. These days, it’s all too easy; in the mornings, especially, it’s become natural for him to guide you on top carefully, holding your hand as you whimper and sob over his face. 

In the current moment, you find yourself stroking a hand down the side of his face, completely enamored with the huge puppy eyes he levels your way. Jungkook likes having your pussy in his face just as much as you do, loves making you feel good in any way he knows how. But there’s a separate matter at hand, one that stands at attention beneath his black boxers and successfully wins your attention. 

Truthfully, there is no dilemma to ponder over; you want both to ride Jungkook’s face and suck him off. The solution?

“We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook mumbles in amazement, his voice slightly muffled from his position beneath you and slightly behind you. Still, his arms dutifully wrap around your thighs, guiding you closer to his mouth where his hot breath fans against your glistening folds. You rock back willingly, hands preoccupied with pushing his boxers down and away from his engorged cock. 

“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the cock before you and the tongue that gently laps at your folds. Jungkook makes a sound, something between a hum and whimper, his mouth slowly getting to work against your folds. “M- Maybe,” you stutter, all thought processes coming to a halt as you carefully take him in your hand. 

His cock is hard and long, his tip an angry shade that weeps with precum. From this angle, you get to watch Jungkook’s huge thighs twitch at the sensation, the tattoo that marks up one of them doing little to hide the fact. Your hand squeezes him, watches in awe as another fat droplet oozes out of his tip. A moan tears itself from his throat, and it’s so goddamn sexy it nearly drives you insane. 

It’s one particularly long lap of his tongue over your clit that sends you into action, back arching at the tingles that shoot down your spine. Wasting no more time, you guide Jungkook’s cock into your mouth, let your own tongue shower his mushroom tip in kitten licks that have him bucking upwards. He releases your clit with a lewd pop, hot breath fanning across your lips. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice harsh. 

Admittedly, it’s more difficult than you thought it would be. 

You’re not one to be easily overwhelmed (says you), but with Jungkook’s twitching cock in your mouth and his teasing tongue dipping into your entrance, it becomes hard to juggle your attention between the two. Even Jungkook, who is quite frankly the master of cunnilingus, seems torn between the two, his breathing shallow and quick against your folds. 

With each slow descent around his cock, he shudders, thigh muscles tightening in anticipation. It causes a lull in the pace of his tongue, the generous kisses and licks against your folds subject to a somewhat uneven pace that, surprisingly, leaves you more on edge than you’d ever expected it to; right when you think he’s about to suck your clit into his mouth, you’re met with a harsh exhale instead, one that makes your lips flutter. 

You’re both disappointed in yourselves for never having tried this mind-blowing position before, and equal parts understanding as to why you haven’t tried this position before— it’s a lot. His cock is halfway down your throat when it twitches, sends a gush of precum into your mouth that has your eyes rolling backwards, a whine slipping out around him. Jungkook appreciates the vibrations, letting it fuel him as he plunges his tongue into your hole. It’s a two way street, you realize, one that is constantly experiencing traffic. 

“Baby,” you gasp, pulling off of his cock with a slick sound, hypnotized by the trail of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. Jungkook’s tongue prods along your slit, makes your eyesight go blurry when the tip of his nose brushes along you as well. The idea of his cute nose buried deep someplace it shouldn’t be has you grinding down on him. “We can— we should stop,” you stutter, your trembling hand reaching forward to grasp the base of his cock. 

He’s slick with your saliva and his precum, and your hand makes a squelching sound upon contact. It must feel good, because Jungkook moans against your folds, his thighs unconsciously falling farther apart as you slowly jerk him off. You think you might’ve heard your name slip from his lips, but your mind is fuzzy, lost in your lust as Jungkook licks a sinful line from your hole to your clit, curling his tongue at the end. “J- Jungkook,” you cry, flinching away because it’s become too much, your toes curling as the beginnings of an orgasm threaten you. 

Before that can happen, he relents, leaning back with a heavy exhale, his hands loosening their grip against your ass and plopping back down against the cushions. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your hold. A lonely droplet of precum trails down the side, your knuckles coated in the glossy substance. Beneath you, Jungkook rubs one soothing palm against your hip. 

You slink off before he can get any funny ideas, maneuver yourself around until you’re kneeling between his parted thighs, his fat cock standing at attention between the two of you. From here, he looks ravenous, and you begin to question who exactly is taking care of who. Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from pinning you down and swallowing you whole, a thought that makes your toes curl. 

It’s with a cautiously horny hand that you reach for his cock again, holding him with both hands. Jungkook growls, head lolling backwards until all you can see is his neck and his chin, thick veins protruding along his skin. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment longer. “C’mere,” he purrs, hauling you up until you’re clumsily leaning over him, palms framing his face. A lone finger runs down your spine, its faint touch making you arch forward. “Sorry,” he says, securing an arm around your waist. “I know you wanted to take care of me, but…”

You roll your eyes, submitting yourself to his clutches as he masterfully rolls the two of you over. The couch is soft beneath your back, and Jungkook looks pretty from above too. “You just can’t sit still, can you?” you murmur playfully. 

Jungkook’s forearms find their place beneath your thighs, the fold of the back of your knee perfectly slotted against his warm skin as he shuffles closer. “Maybe another time,” he laughs along sheepishly, his hard cock gliding over your slit, teasing your clit. You gulp, eyes scanning over his lean build as if it’s the first time. “Sorry,” he repeats, but he’s got this stupidly dopey grin on his face as he glances down at your pussy; he’s insane, he’s got to be, what man makes heart eyes at a pussy?

Your man, apparently. Grasping the base of his cock, Jungkook takes care to drag it along your folds collecting your wetness along his length, a deep shudder wracking his body through it all. “I knew you would do this to me,” he mutters, so low you nearly miss it under the thundering sound of your heartbeat.

“Huh,” you mumble, and you’d like to defend yourself and say you weren’t as cock-crazy as Jungkook was coochie-crazy, but that would be a lie. You’re staring at his cock as if it holds the secrets to the universe right now.

Jungkook juts his head to the side, a motion similar to the one he does when he’s trying to crack his neck. His tongue prods along his cheek, eyes laser-focused on the point where your two bodies meet. “From the moment you walked into my house,” he grunts mindlessly, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He chances a glance up, meets your gaze with a patient look, “all good?”

“All good,” you hurriedly reply, fingers finding their place against his broad shoulders. With the way he had prepared you earlier, mouthed along your clit and your folds until you were pleasantly aroused, the glide now is too easy. Tight, but easy, has the two of you releasing twin moans that echo off the wooden walls of the cabin. 

Jungkook’s forehead is covered in a thin veil of sweat, one that glistens when the evening sunset pours in through the balcony doors, highlighting him in a golden light that makes you dizzy. The angry tip of his cock sinks into your walls, Jungkook’s ashy strands sticking to his forehead and his cheeks. For some reason, you find yourself reminiscing on the aforementioned moment Jungkook had spoken of. Of the soft sweater he’d worn that day and the dinner he had made, the blond tips on his chestnut hair and the way he’d clung onto every word you’d said. 

It makes you tear up, and, after laughing at Jungkook early for crying, you quickly turn your face away. 

Jungkook isn’t dumb. “What now,” he chuckles, though his breathing is labored, every inch of his cock that penetrates you further bringing with it another rush of adrenaline. At the hilt, you’re embarrassed to say there’s multiple tears streaming down your face, so you can’t even play it off as you usually do. “Crybaby,” Jungkook teases, but his voice is so soft and tender you don’t know what to do with yourself. 

“Just move,” you bite out, shamefully covering your face with your hands. Jungkook leans over you, the movement pushing his dick deeper inside of you, your walls clenching around him. A kiss is placed over your knuckles, just shy of your engagement ring. Your chest lurches with a silent sob. “Jungkook,” you whimper, sinking further into the cushion, “please, just—“

“I got it,” he assures you, placing one final peck against your handmade (literally) shield. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he makes sure to whisper, “love you,” before unsheathing himself. 

You shudder, your heart feeling so full, you fear it’ll burst. You both love and hate when he treats you like this, like an ice sculpture in the scorching heat that has him doing everything he can to keep you solid. His touch is soft, the roll of his hips too slow for your liking. You feel so small and vulnerable— too pampered. “Harder,” you beg, your voice an airy whine that has Jungkook chuckling above you. 

He lives to please you, hiking your leg over his shoulder with a renewed vigor. His hands find themselves on your waist, forcefully pinning you down against the couch cushions as he sets upon fulfilling your latest request. The next series of thrusts are jerky, have you jostling in his grip as Jungkook pounds into you with an all new mindset. “Lemme see you,” he huffs, thumbs painfully digging into your skin. You tremble in his arms, heart swayed by the quiet plea in his voice. “Let me see your face, pretty girl.”

Reluctantly, you do, brandishing your tear-stricken face his way. Jungkook smiles, that stupidly handsome smile, his hips snapping into you roughly. “Fuck,” he moans, the expression never leaving his face, even when run your nails over his chest harshly. “You’re so pretty.”

You ignore him for the sake of your already weakened mental state, focusing instead on the brutal force of his hips, the way his cock stretches your walls out. Each push has you seeing stars, thighs quivering from the sensations that shoot up your spine and down your toes. “Oh,” you mewl, hands gripping his biceps as you lose yourself to him. Your eyes roll back, vision a mess of colors and nothingness all at once. 

“Is this hard enough?” Jungkook husks out, and he sounds so close. His proximity is confirmed when his mouth slots against yours, his harsh breath mingling with your own as he continues to frantically buck into your inviting heat, each new round of thrusts leaving you weaker and weaker than before. “God,” Jungkook cries, the sound nearly lost beneath your own moans and whimpers. “Gonna k- keep you forever,” he spits, tongue slipping into your mouth.

He’s messier than usual, moves with unrefined movements unlike his normal self. You don’t care, you love him all the same. His sloppy kisses turn into desperate ones, matching the pace of his hips. “Kook,” you sob, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him close until his thrusts are reduced to a shallower depth. 

“I’ve got you,” he croons, lips against your jawline. His cock presses in and you swear you feel it alongside every inch of your walls, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. He’s layering messy kisses down your face now, lips sucking dark marks any chance he gets. 

True to his word, Jungkook indeed has you. His cock pistons in and out at an astonishing pace, each surge into your folds making you dizzy over and over again. It’s a feeling you fear you’ll never grow tired of, in fact, it’s a feeling you fear you’ll begin to crave even more in the future. The good thing is, that future will extend into forever. 

You yank him towards you, swallow his low laughter with your lips. Jungkook doesn’t complain, lowering himself until he’s practically squishing you beneath his beefy body, cock ramming in and out despite all that. His tongue glides along yours, makes it his mission to muffle each of your cries. 

It doesn’t take long for you to be fulfilled. Given the fact you had sucked him off like a lollipop whilst having him eat you out, you’re not entirely surprised. That and the emotions of tonight have you melting into him sooner than you’d like, his name falling from your lips as your thighs clamp down around his waist. Jungkook takes it in stride, slows the maddening pace of his hips to cradle you in his arms. You’re like jelly, practically flop back into the cushion when he slips an arm beneath you. “You’re so good for me,” Jungkook praises, lavishing your throat in tiny pecks as his orgasm circles around. “My pretty girl.”

“Love you,” you sigh, and your body feels numb, his intrusion but a small touch now that he’s tired you out once more, your walls tender and raw. Jungkook presses a smile against your throat and, moments later, releases inside of you. 

Even minutes after the deed, the feeling refuses to return to your legs. He didn’t go that hard— well, you’re not entirely sure. The memories always become blurry toward the end of your escapades. Everything rushes back in waves, and for some reason, your first thought is, “where’s Sailor Moon?”

Your post-rump conversations have never been the most coherent, usually filled with pretty weird thoughts and ideas. Still, more grand things have happened tonight for you to be worried about a magical anime girl. Jungkook draws himself out of your core with a huff of laughter. “On the TV,” he answers, unfazed by the oddity of your question. 

That’s how you know he’s a keeper.

It takes a while, but eventually Jungkook responds. “Avocado toast,” he says, though his answer is dripping with uncertainty. He’s naked as the day he was born, snuggled up beside you in bed. He’s propped up on one arm, looking down at you over the ample swell of his manly bosom. It takes everything in you to keep your hands off his chest. 

“Correct,” you respond, “and what movie did we watch?”

Without missing a beat, “Transformers, the first one.”

You nod, glancing at the ceiling as you rack your brain for any other trivia questions to ask your fiancé. “The title of the playlist you made?”

A flush paints his cheeks. “Date Night playlist,” he answers through a pout, reprimanding you for bringing up such a memory with a flick to your forehead. You wince. “I was young and silly,” he defends.

You beam, cuddling into his side until he’s forced to lay back down. “Yeah, yeah,” you tease. “We’re only gonna get older from here,” you lament. You’d say it’s difficult to picture him with a gray head of hair, but his current silvery locks don’t leave much room for your imagination.

Jungkook pulls you close. A beat of silence passes, and then, “so who are we telling first?”

Definitely Namjoon.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[scarlettriot]

Stood Up

You (Y/N) get stood up from a date and Kaminari decides to do something about it.

Pairing: Kaminari/F!Reader

Contains: Fluff, Flirty Denki, Established BakuSquad Friendship

Warnings: 18+ Below the cut, Minors DNI! Swearing, Electro-Stim, Overstimulation, use of pet names (cuddle bug & cutie), oral (F receiving), consensual recording

A/N: Well, here we are with the third in my Stood Up series. There is also Bakugo & Kirishima if you're interested. This one took me way too long and it's also my first time writing Kaminari at length. I hope you all like it :)

Word Count Starting Below: 2,461

You slipped your foot into the silver heels you had picked out. Something a little fancier since this was a first date after all and you wanted to make a lasting impression. Not only that but this was your first first date in a while. Being a Pro Hero made life busy and dating difficult.

Practically the entire day leading up to this very moment revolved around you either getting ready or babbling with excitement to your closest friends.

An alert chimed on your phone with a text from your date, a smile sliding onto your face expecting to read some message about how they were on their way and that they'd see you soon, but that wasn't what you were met with.

Instead, it was a screenshot of your Instagram page, multiple of them actually, all of you and the ridiculous photos you took with your friends but mostly with one Denki Kaminari. The most recent of which was from a tea shop he met you at just earlier that day so you could show him the shoes for your date.

The message below was simple and more than enough to leave a sour taste in your mouth, this isn't what I want to see when I'm supposed to be taking you out tonight. What, one date a day isn't enough? Why are you even dating? Does your blonde boyfriend know?

You giggled at what they were implying, quick to explain how these were all your friends, they had been since high school! They are people you spent what little free time you had with. Especially Denki, your best friend since you were 15!

That joy you felt started dissipating within the next few messages. You hadn't even had a first date and they were already jealous, and that was something you didn't have room for in your life. So, you slipped the heels off your feet and put them directly back in the box to return when you had the time. Tight black jeans and fitted top were exchanged with a hoodie and sweats although your makeup and hair stayed done, you didn't have the energy to undo your hard work.

Instead, you slid back into your computer chair, your headset snuggly back on your ears and before you notified everyone you were back online, you took a moment listening to the chatter of your friends.

"Shitty Hair! Fuckin' pay attention!"

"Yeah, man! We're getting slaughtered over here!"

"Less yelling at Kiri! More shooty shooty!"

"All of you are hopeless..."

Eijiro chuckled out an apology that was accompanied by a lighter giggle also coming from his mic. "Think this is gonna be my last round for a bit, guys."

"You're so fuckin' whipped." Bakugo scoffed, before screaming profanities.

"Is it whipped if I'm the one who's wanting to get her into bed though?"

You clicked your mic back on then. "Hey, remember last week when Kats forgot his push to talk so we all heard him getting head and we party whipped because someone couldn't focus?"

"You better shut the hell up right fucking now!"

Everyone else roared with laughter. "Yeah! At least I have the decency to mute myself!"

"Hey, wait a sec, why are you online, Y/N!" Denki noted, "You should have already left!"

You screenshot your messages to the group chat because it was far easier than just explaining the ordeal.

"Cute shoes." Eijiro and Kyoka commented at the same time.

There was a lull as their game ended and the messages were read.

"Ya don't need 'em if they're gonna have their head so far up their ass like this."

"I agree." Hanta chimed in. "They're not worth your time."

"Still, sorry they turned out to be a shit." You could hear the frown on Kyoka's face, "I know how excited you were."

"Right, you doin' okay, Y/N? I can stick around and we can all shoot some things!"

"Thanks, Kiri but I'll be just fine! Go spend time with your girl!"

One by one, everyone signed off. You pulled up Spotify and Stardew Valley, something of a comfort for you to get lost in for the rest of the night.

Less than an hour later, you noticed your phone lighting up with your best friend's familiar smiling face. "What's up, Denki?"

"Open your door! I have my hands full and don't wanna put everything down to get my key!"

You sprang from your desk and rushed to your door. Sure enough, on the other side was Denki with bags in both hands and his phone tucked between his ear and shoulder. You grabbed it and a bag before he had a chance to drop anything like the klutz he was. "What's with all this?"

"I feel bad."

"Why? You didn't stand me up?"

He fiddled with the edge of a paper bag. "Yeah, but, we both read those messages and no one said anything but they didn't just call our group out, they called us out.

"Denks, it doesn't matter to me-"

"But, it does to me! You were so excited about this and I got in the way, unknowingly but, still! So, I gotta make it up to you now!"

He pulled out take-out boxes from your favorite restaurant. Two bottles of your favorite wine. Your top three favorite movies and video games, and a board game you both had been meaning to try. "I mean, if they think I'm your boyfriend I kinda gotta live up to the hype, right?"

You really wanted to insist that none of this was necessary. That just because some person that neither of you really knew that well, assumed something about your relationship that didn't mean he had to blame himself for it.

But, you had to admit, this was really sweet. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to you that he knew everything you liked but it was nice. Instead of sitting across from a stranger, making awkward small talk, and trying to learn about one another, you were barefoot in your kitchen, laughing with your best friend while he plated dinner and you poured the wine.

Formalities were out the window. Both you and Denki were eating dinner in your living room, laughing and drinking just as you'd done a million times before. You snapped a photo of the delicious food on paper plates, toasting good times with your cheap wine, ready to post them to your Instagram.

"Gonna make them more jealous..."

"I think they made it pretty clear they don't want to see me so why should I care?"

He shrugged. "I just thought they might, you know, come to their senses that they obviously lost."

"I don't really care either way." You wandered back into your kitchen, putting away the leftovers, "They can forget I exist or they can stalk my page like a creep. If someones' gonna try and tell me I can't be friends with my friends or just not listen to me, then I don't want them in my life. No matter how good-looking they are."

Denki watched you from the sofa, a bit of a lopsided grin on his face that had butterflies taking flight in your stomach. "What?" Laughing to hide the bit of a crush you always had on the man. It was unavoidable you told yourself. His personality was infectious and had 15 year old you head over heels.

He pushed back bright blonde hair back off his forehead and just shook his head. "Nothin'. Uh, what's next? Video game, board game, or movie?"

You peaked on the counter at the options. "Well, we probably should have checked this but the board game needs at least four people to play... guess we'll have to save that for our next game night. Is a movie okay?"

Of course, it was.

You brought over the DVD with a refill of wine and he pulled a blanket down off the back of your sofa.

It really didn't take long, just fifteen minutes or so, and you were curled up into Denki's side. You'd make grabby hands for your wine glass and he'd pass it over with that damn grin again.

And not long after that, he'd pulled out his phone, angling it to take a picture of the two of you. "What are you doing?" You could see him on his own Instagram, tagging you, with the caption, Check out my cute cuddle bug.

"I thought you didn't want to make them more jealous."

"I decided I don't care either. You're mine tonight, their loss. And since you're mine tonight, I get bragging rights." He snapped another quick picture of you rolling your eyes at him, and then he kept snapping them.

"Denki! Why!"

"Because you're cute, cuddle bug! I like having all the pictures of you that I can!"

Even as you tackled him back down on the sofa, pinning him below you, he still managed a photo. "Bet if I post this one, they'll really get the wrong idea."

You could have moved. You were the one on top of him and you had his arms above his head. You had the power here and yet you just lingered above him.

"Y/N? Not that I'm one to complain about having a beautiful person such as yourself pinning me down, like, it's kinda hot, but..." Looking down into half-lidded golden eyes, you wondered why you had to become best friends with such a damn flirt! "Are you gonna take advantage of this situation we're in or are we just gonna keep dancing around this for another decade or so?"

You couldn't have heard him right? No... no this was your brain playing tricks on you because he certainly hadn't had that much wine tonight. You sat upright on his lap. "Another decade then, Y/N?"

"You- ha- you should stop that, Denki."

He leaned up, moving his arms around you, "Gimme a good reason to and I will."

You didn't have one. And not just because you've been in love with him for ten years but also because he was your best friend. The only reason to not go through with it was the possibility of losing your friendship if something bad were to happen but, you really didn't think anything would.

Denki might have been a serial flirt but he was surprisingly loyal in all the relationships he'd been in, not that there had been all that many serious ones.

"I'm not hearing anything." He teased, his face getting closer to yours. You could count each and every one of the faint freckles that littered the balls of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. "But, I promise, if you tell me no, I'll stop, won't push this any further."

This whole thing seemed like a frickin' whirlwind, happening faster than your brain could really process the situation but you didn't want it to stop either. You wanted to take it further, didn't want to say no.

Which was why you coiled your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. There was that small little buzz of electricity that tickled your lips when he'd kiss your nose or cheeks that was now playing on his lips, on his tongue when you welcomed him in.

He leaned back again, pulling you with him until you were both a pile of needy hands and breathy pleas. Everywhere his hands roamed you felt that faint trail of shock against your skin, making the little hairs on your body stand on end.

Clothes were shed, tossed haphazardly around your living room, both of you pausing to laugh when Denki managed to land your hoodie over a lamp. His attention was drawn back to you quickly though, still perched on top of him but now he had your chest on full display since you'd forgone a bra when your date canceled.

Electrifying tongue twirled around your nipples, sensitive normally, now it felt like you knew what it was like when he fried his damn brain. He was eager, relentless even, pulling and sucking, another hand giving your other breast a similar treatment. He had you so focused that you let out a broken moan when slender fingers found their way into your panties.

"Fuckin' hell, Denki."

The bastard winked up at you, nipple still between his lips and before you could retort, he sent another small jolt through you.

You were blatantly grinding down on his hand, reaching behind you, you found him completely solid, barely being contained in the tight black boxers he wore. You had enough sense to tug them down and wrap your hand around him making his teeth sink into your soft flesh, whining when you stroked him.

"Y/N..." He whimpered, his hand momentarily distracted from his ministrations gave you enough time to shift in his lap to scoot forward putting his cock in front of you. In one swift motion, you had his length between your slick. "Oh fuck, cutie!" Golden eyes were squeezed shut while you moved along him, feeling that pleasant curve he had, you could only imagine what it was gonna be like to have him inside you.

"You're being a little tease, ma-makes me wanna do all sorts of things to y-you."

He was kissing your neck, your chest, shoulders, and arms, anywhere on you that he could reach. His hips bucking up into you, just trying to hit that perfect angle.

Strength and agility were something most overlooked when it came to Denki Kaminari but when the man wanted something bad enough, he found a way to get it.

He had your ass rising up in the air with a harsh thrust of his hips and a small squeak from you, giving him exactly enough time to scoot down on the sofa so you were sat atop his face. If you complained, he didn't hear you. Denki already had your thighs around his head and his tongue devouring you completely.

Little shockwaves rocked you while you cried out his name, hands fisting blonde locks just trying to stay upright.

One orgasm from you apparently wasn't enough, neither was two but on the third, Denki finally relented, allowing your heartrate to come back down and your gasping breaths to come in more steadily.

You slid back down his body, his erection now smack against your ass. His hair was recked, face completely flush but he had the biggest grin on his face that you'd ever seen.

Denki kissed both your cheeks, "You are so amazing, cutie!" Kissed your lips, "You taste better than anything I've ever had!" And one more on the tip of your nose. "Doin' okay?"

You nodded, starting to really gather yourself again, and by this point, you really just wanted one thing.

"I wanna... Denks... can I take care of you now?"

"Sure, cutie! How do you want me?" The wiggling eyebrows had you rolling your eyes and pushing him on his back again.

It took little effort for you to position yourself above his cock, and with how slick you were, his bright pink head slipped right inside. He held your hands while you scrunched up your face, sliding all the way down him until he was completely sheathed within.

The curve was immaculate. Hitting in just the right way that had you moaning with just a couple thrusts from him. Before long, you were eagerly bouncing on his cock. Riding him hard so he filled you up each and every time.

You barely registered him reaching for the coffee table, his phone now in his hands. "What're you doin'?" You practically slurred, slowing only slightly. He tapped the camera lens with a wicked grin. "Seriously?"

"We could make 'em really jealous now..."

Somewhere in your brain, you knew your date wouldn't give two shits, in fact, this probably would have only validated their thoughts about your's and Denki's relationship but with his cock stuffed so deeply into you, kissing your cervix in the most beautiful way, you really didn't give a damn.

You and Denki put on the best possible show you could think of. You were overstimulated, sore, and completely elated! He balanced the phone against the wine bottle so neither of you had to try to hold it.

This way he could play with your breasts or squeeze your thighs while you dug half-moons into his chest. Shocked with the playful zaps he sent right to your core.

Your makeup you'd didn't feel like taking off now ran down your cheeks with tears. Your hair was a mess thanks to him pulling at it.

Denki had you howling through another two orgasms, telling you how perfect you were, how nice you felt squeezing him so tightly, your nails felt so good against his skin.

It was only when you collapsed against his chest did he hoist your hips up so he could ram into you, pulling out just at the last second with a strangled cry of your name.

He wiggled himself free, grabbing a towel from your bathroom and cleaning you both up before stopping the recording.

"You're, hey you're gonna send that to me right?" You asked when he handed back your hoodie off the lamp.

He dropped a kiss on your lips, plopping down beside you on the sofa again and you noticed your email already up and the video uploading. "Obviously, we share all our videos and photos. Why would this be different?"

[shurisneakers]

harmless (x)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, anxiety, smidge of angst, mentions of violence

Word count: 7.8k (i went overboard. clearly.)

A/N: as well all know, i am a humanities student writing science geeks. if any of this sounds unrealistic or nonsensical, it’s because it is and i am honestly too exhausted to research data privacy and AI so here’s my take on how STEM should work i.e. the power of friendship  <3 major shoutout to @iamlittlesparkler for the idea for this chapter!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part  || Series Masterlist

“As you know, we have a busy week ahead of us.” 

Coffees line the conference room table, pens click against the stacks of paper that settle in front of various agents and the smell of deodorant mixed with post-training sweat lingers at the back of the room like a disgusting witch concoction. 

“The annual parade is coming up and since there are a few security threats, SHIELD has been asked to step in. Therefore, all of you will be working security this week, possibly even at the parade.” Murmurs broke out in the room the minute this was said; mostly from first year field agents who were way too excited to have earpieces and fingerless gloves. 

Bucky, on the other hand, doesn’t think much of it. They’ve dealt with threats before, most were declared empty the minute it got out that SHIELD or the Avengers were involved. It’s the 12th one that year. 

“That’s only if we don’t catch it first,” Steve continued. “Our first priority is precaution. The tech and analytics teams are working on it. However, if you see anything suspicious, bring it up with Director Fury. He’s going to be around to make sure we’re not overlooking anything. Do you have any questions?”

More whispers erupted at the mention of Fury’s name. Wait till they realise he lives up to his name when they accidentally manage to set him off just by existing incorrectly.

Bucky smirks at the thought.

“You can leave then.” Steve straightens up as chairs shuffle against the carpeted floor, over twenty people leaving the room.

“And remember, if you see an eagle today, be sure to stand there and thank it on behalf of Steve for its service. Freedom! Liberty! And whatever else,” Tony calls out from the corner of the room, earning a sigh from the captain. Others only snicker as they close the door behind them.

“Thanks.” Steve stares at him stone faced, bemused at the symbolism that had been bestowed upon him.

“Gotta keep the patriotism high.” The only ones that remain are the official team. Bucky thinks that he should have left with the other agents but apparently, it was rude and not a good show of team spirit.

“How serious is this threat anyway?” Clint has his head face down on the table, hand holding his to-go coffee cup so it doesn’t fall over. 

“We’re not sure.” Steve finally takes a seat on the chair in front of him. “It’s the biggest event we’ve had this year, wouldn’t put it past them.”

“If it’s those Welsh kids again, I’m gonna punch a hole through their house this time,” Clint warns, voice muffled through the furniture. 

“It’s not them, we checked.” Nat had her leg up on the armrest of Clint’s chair. “Tech team’s been working overtime to figure it out.”

“You have anything that could help?” Sam sends a nod towards Tony.

“I got a few things but it’d take a while to put it together.” 

“Didn’t you learn quantum physics in a night?” Wanda’s picking apart a cookie into pieces, chewing slowly.

“Thermodynamic astrophysics,” he corrects her. “Quantum science took lesser.”

Bucky scoffs slightly at the brag, eyes still trained on the table in front of him. Maybe if he made no noise, they would forget he’s here.

“Yeah, so this should be a piece’a cake.”  

“If your cake was somehow made out of a highly specified tracker that somehow doesn’t violate the data privacy of the entire world while analysing millions of terabytes worth of information, then yeah. A piece of it.”

“What he means to say-” Bruce interjects, “-is that we’re trying. It’s just taking longer than usual.”

“Well, the parade’s this Sunday. Think it’ll be done by then?”

“Hey FRIDAY,” Tony crosses his arm over his chest. “How many hours have I slept this week?”

“Three and a half, boss.”

“How much more will I be getting?”

“From previous experience, about six.”

“Yeah, we can get it done.” Tony looks back at Steve. 

“Ask someone on the tech team to help you out.” Everyone was well aware of Tony’s bad coping mechanisms and how futile it was to get him to change his mind about it, but they still tried.

“They’re too busy.” Bruce pressed his lips into a straight line. 

Bucky tunes out at this point. If he could help, he would have reluctantly chimed in by now, but he couldn’t. 

“So what now?” Sam rips Clint’s doughnut into two, keeping one half for himself while leaving the other to the latter who still hadn’t lifted his head up from the table.

“I actually asked Fury if I could call in an external to come help,” Tony pipes up. 

“And he agreed?” Nat raised an eyebrow.

“After he realised I wasn’t going to leave his office until he said yes.” He pulled out his phone, rapidly typing out a message before hitting send. “It didn’t take too long.”

“Do we know this person?” Steve asks a little suspiciously.

“Well-” Bruce sneaks a glance at the broody man on the chair, “-kinda.”

Everyone can tell Bucky isn’t paying attention by the way he’s glaring holes into the plant. He doesn’t mean to, it just so happens that it looks like he wants to kill it. Nobody tends to bother him during meetings, knowing well and fully that he did not care.

“You’re about to.” Tony jumps up, making his way to the door to pull it open.

Bucky perks up. An open door means they can leave, right? He can go watch The Bachelor? He’s not sure what everyone was talking about, but if the meeting was over he could go ask Wanda who was always kind enough to help.

“Our newest recruit,” the billionaire announces, quickly adding the next part, “on a trial basis.” 

Bucky looks at the door.

His jaw drops open.

“No,” he says loudly, posture immediately stiff as a plank. 

“Hello to you too, Barnes.” You roll your eyes before sending a small wave to everyone else. “Hey everyone.”

“What are you doing here?” He looks like he’s seething. 

“Don’t tell me you forgot about our date.” You cross your arms over your chest in defiance. “You told me 3 o’clock, you player.”

“What is she doing here?” He whips to Steve for an answer.

“Hey Y/N,” Sam greets with a smile on his face before Steve can reply.

“Sam Wilson, good to see you again.” You grin.

“Right back at ya, sugar.” 

Wanda looks amused, Clint finally lifts his head off the table at the mention of your name while Nat takes her feet off his armrest, and Steve’s body relaxes when he realises what’s going on. 

“Okay.” Tony claps his hand. Bucky shoots daggers at him. “As you all know, this is Y/N. She’s going to working with us this week.”

“This is ridi- how did you even find out about her?”

“Aside from the fact that she’s all you talk about?” Clint snorts. Bucky shifts his glare to him. It was bullshit and an exaggeration and Clint was going to get a shoe up his ass very soon.

Your grin only grows bigger.

“We saw one of the repulsors she made some time ago,” Bruce answers his question like the sane person that he is. “Tony’s had her in mind for a while.”

“Repulsors? How on ear-” Bucky connects two and two together before turning to Sam. “You. You got her this job.”

“Sam’s my best wingman.” You send him a small heart made from your hands. Whether the pun was intentional or not, no one would know.

“Don’t look at me, I had nothing to do with this idea.” Sam raised his hands to brush off the blame.

“You’re a villain,” he points out loudly.

“I’m a saint.” You raise your hand to your heart in mock offence. “I have done nothing wrong in my life, ever.”

“Listen, Robocop,” Tony interrupts your conversation, bringing the attention back to him, “I cleared it with Fury. He’s the boss here.”

“Fury doesn’t know-”

“What don’t I know?” The atmosphere of the room changes the minute he saunters in. 

With an eyepatch on his face, gaze sharp and a long black coat, Nick Fury puts Bucky’s dark outfits to shame. Not like he was competing. 

Bucky doesn’t continue his sentence. Nick’s imposing presence loomed at the doorway, putting a stop to the ridiculous arguments that were beginning to boil. Instead, he looks at you, only to find your attention trained on the man of the hour.

“Nicholas,” you half cheer from where you had shifted to in the middle of all the commotion. 

Nicholas?

Nicholas?

No one had ever called him Nicholas. 

“Y/L/N,” Nick addresses in return. “Been a while.”

“You haven’t come to the lair in months, Nick.” You pout at him. “I even sent you an invite.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows. Since when are you on such good terms with Fury? Since when was anyone on good terms with Fury?

“It must have gotten lost in the mail,” he fires back, “Or maybe it’s because I just happen to be the busiest man in the damn country. Take your pick.”

You roll your eyes, muttering something under your breath, but the good natured smile on your face shows that you didn’t take any of his passive- or straight up- aggressiveness to heart. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I was interrupting your little tea time.” He looks around the rest of the room with an edge in his voice. “Don’t you all have work to do?”

“We do,” Tony interrupts, holding up his hand before pointing to Bruce and you. “Everyone else just sorta sits around and looks pretty.”

“I’m gonna go talk to the organisers, see what spots are most vulnerable.” Steve stands up. “You coming?”

“Yep,” Sam responds, flicking Clint’s shoulder to drag him along. “Come on, man. When was the last time you took a shower?”

“I’ll go see what the kids are up to in training. They’re probably flying off the handle right now.” Natasha brushes off crumbs from her lap. “Barnes, you in?”

Bucky silently shakes his head, eyes focused on you as you introduce yourself to every Avenger who walks out of the room, sharing a small fist bump with Sam.

“I’ll do it,” Wanda volunteers instead, finally leaving behind only the Science Bros, you and Bucky in the room with Fury. 

“I’ll give you a tour of the lab.” Tony beckons and you nod, following him. “New eyepatch, Fury? Prada, I assume?”

“Stark,” Nick says curtly. 

Bucky stares after you, arms still folded across his chest.

“Any problem, Sergeant?” 

Other than the fact that his arch nemesis was now working with his friends, no, not really. But that did seem like a pretty big one.

“No,” Bucky mumbles instead, getting up from his place finally.

Apparently, no one else was worried about the possibly lethal combination of you and Stark, even with Banner there to dilute it. 

Fine.

Guess he just has to observe you the whole week.

Well, half a week. It was Wednesday. 

He observes inconspicuously over the rim of his coffee cup. He has a newspaper spread in front of him at Bruce’s table. 

It’s not suspicious. He’s been there multiple times to sit in silence with the scientist who occasionally tinkers with something while engaging Bucky in tidbits of conversation. He finds it calming, refreshing even

Today he has an agenda. Everyone knows about it too. 

“You know he’s staring at you, right?” Bruce looks up briefly from the giant blueprint laid in front of the group. 

Tony had been dragged away to get a proper meal into him after he stayed up for 36 hours straight with caffeine keeping his system running. 

“He has a tendency to do that.” You’re looking over the plan the three of you had come up with the day before. There were certain changes to be made in terms of efficiency. “Turns out if you annoy him, he stares harder.”

“We’ve heard about the inventions. Inators, he calls them?”

“Yeah,” you point out something on the sheet, drawing a circle around it to come back to later, “only good things I hope?”

“He doesn’t really talk much.” Bruce writes down a small comment against your arrow mark. “But if he hated them, he’d have a lot to say. So I’d take it as a compliment.”

“Would it annoy him if I did?”

“Probably.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment, then. Pass me the ruler?” You draw a line connecting two pieces. 

Bucky’s ability to lip read is excellent but he refuses to do it, for privacy purposes. He knew that SHIELD had pulled some strings and had another teacher substituting for your classes the whole week since your other option was to come only after school hours. Anything else about this plan was murky.

“You gonna sit there all day?” Tony looks over his shoulder, following his line of sight.

“I’ve done it before.” He continues to look over the newspaper at you with your finger extended at something on the blueprint as you explained something to Bruce.

“You look like- how do I say this nicely.” He wasn’t going to. “A fuckin’ stalker.”

“I’m supposed to stop her from doing anything evil.”

“Sure.” Tony snorts. “That’s what this is. Should I get you a fedora and sunglasses while we’re at it?”

Of course Stark wouldn’t care; he brought you into this project. It was pretty much impossible to get him to agree with Bucky.

Bucky just narrows his eyes and continues his observation. 

The menu of the cafeteria keeps changing. They like to keep things interesting.

Every time they do, Bucky spends too long staring at the menu, trying to figure out what exactly is familiar enough to order. Vietnamese week had him eating pho the entire duration it stayed.

“You plannin’ on eating anytime this century, sarge?” He recognises your voice immediately. 

He knows what time your break is and he knows that you generally eat lunch in the cafeteria with the science team. Generally, the three of you pour over solutions and debate points all through the meal, and he spends the time getting acquainted with his new, lowkey Instagram account. 

He blocks the Bucky Barnes hashtag the minute he gets an account again. God save his eyes from people asking him to break their back like a glow-stick. However, one afternoon of accidentally watching three cat videos has led to his entire explore page being taken over by them and he’s been trying for three days to get it to stop. 

“Just trying to-” he tilts his head. “-understand what I’m reading.”

“Not a big fan of Greek food?” You join him in looking at the menu. 

“Never really had the chance to try.” Tony and Bruce don’t seem to be in the room, probably pushing aside their meal to work on it as they’ve often done.

“Ah.” You already had your order in mind but you wait there. 

Two minutes later he’s still staring at the menu. He can feel your presence next to him, unmoving. It unnerves him.

“Why are you still standing here?” He cranes his neck to look at you.

“I’m just seeing how long it takes for you to order.” You shrug. “So far it’s been five minutes and forty six seconds. Forty eight now.”

“Go away.” The concept of someone standing beside him, waiting for him to do something reminded him far too much of him trying to bag his stuff at the grocery counter rapidly while other customers waited to pay. 

“Six minutes and thirty seconds. This is just sad now.”

“Your face is sad.” It was pathetic that he had now resorted to this.

It earned a laugh from you. 

As entertaining as it was to be able to get on his nerves by just standing silently next to him, you finally ask, “Do you want a recommendation?” 

He eyes you wearily. “You gonna give me food poisoning?” 

“Not today, no.” You shake your head slightly. “Maybe tomorrow.”

He stares a little longer. You remain unshaken in your offer.

“Fine.” He sighs, stepping aside. 

You tell him that since it’s his first time, you’d get him something basic. He thought it made sense. 

He argued with you when you ended up paying for the both of you, only shutting up when you told him he’s holding up the line and that he could pay you back later. It doesn’t stop his incessant mumble complaining. 

He ends up with gyros at his table and you sitting opposite him with your meal. He asks where the Science Bros are. You tell him it’s Science Hoes now, as christened by Tony, and that they’re in the lab.

“So?” You look at him eagerly.

“What?”

“How is it?” you urge, nodding at him.

He takes a cautious bite, really taking his time with it to annoy your impatient ass. 

“Well?” You raise your eyebrow at him.

“It’s-” he pauses, looking down at his food. “-good.”

“Aha.” You lean back victoriously. “Knew it.”

He likes it. He also knows that this is probably going to be the only thing he orders for the next week unless you had planned otherwise. 

“You’re not eating?” He gestures to your untouched tray.

“Taking it up to the lab. Got a few things to work on and we’re already behind.” You gather up your stuff and get up.

“Uh-” he pauses from practically inhaling the entire thing. He was already halfway done with it. “-thanks.”

“No problem. You wink at him. “Try figuring out what’s wrong with it.” 

You turn on your heel to leave, taking your order with you. He can see your shoulders bobbing with silent laughter. 

He stares down at his plate, swallowing slowly. 

He pokes at it with a fork, lifting up the leftovers to check if there’s anything underneath. Nothing. 

He checks to see if his limbs are still intact or his face was a different colour. Nope.

His stomach twists in worry about what’s going to happen. He still has a bit left but he pushes the tray aside.

The rest of the day he spends supervising you has you occasionally catching his eye, only to laugh. It only freaks him out more.

It takes eight hours of waiting and self induced tests later to realise there was nothing wrong with it. You were just playing with him.

He’s surprised to find you in the rec room when he strolls in with Sam, given that you haven’t taken a break all day.

You don’t share the same surprise... almost like you expected him.

“How long have you been waiting for me?” he immediately asks.

"I wasn’t here for you.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Heard that Wilson was makin’ an appearance here soon so I stopped by to get a good look at him."

"Take a picture, it'll last longer.” Sam laughs, inserting a dollar into the machine and punching in the code for what he wanted.

"Gladly. Strike a pose, would you?" You grin, raising your phone.

“Maybe when I’m not covered in sweat.” Sam counter offers and you accept with a thumbs up.

“You going to the parade, Sam?” You toy with the can in your hands.

“I’ll be working security, so probably.”

“Sarge?” You take a swig of your drink.

“Huh?” He snaps back into the conversation, putting a stop to the mental list of reasons he was making of why you could be here at the same time as him. He knew your schedule, it wouldn’t be very hard for you to figure out his.

“You coming to the parade on Sunday?” you ask again.

“I guess.”

You wince.

“What?” he asks instantly, curiosity making him a lot sloppier than usual.

“It’s just- you wear so much black.” You gesture to his current getup to prove your point. ”I feel like all the bright colours would vaporise you if you looked at them.”

He doesn’t look amused.

“You know, like Prince Philip.”

“I think I’ll be fine.” He gives you a sarcastic smile.

“You comin’ Buck?” Sam laughs, unwrapping the bar he bought from the machine.

“You go ahead, I’ll catch up,” Bucky says offhandedly, still glaring at you innocently drinking your soda.

Sam chews absentmindedly on his protein bar as he walks out, amused at the situation Bucky pulled himself into.

“What’d you do?” Bucky asks, studying your body language.

“I bought a soda.” You lift the can to prove your point. “And now I’m drinking it.”

“Why are you waiting for me?”

“I thought I’d return the favour,” you point out. “I’m supervising you.”

“Don’t.” He walks to the vending machine, pulling out his wallet for some loose change. There was a Snickers bar he had been craving since morning that he bought every alternate day. Small joys.

“Why? I have the time.” You take a sip, setting it down with a clang.

“You’re only here for this week.” Bucky counted the coins he had. He’d use a dollar but he was trying to get rid of the jingling in his pocket that made him sound like a fucking clown when he walked.

“Actually,” you begin innocuously, “Tony offered me a full-time position.”

Bucky’s movements stop, hunched over the money in his palm.

“What?”

“Yeah.” You nod seriously. “A full nine-to-five as a researcher here.”

“And you’re taking it.” He shakes himself out of the minor shock to assess the damage.

“I don’t know. I got a lot of things to consider.” The chair scrapes against the tiled floor as you stand up. “But maybe you should get used to seeing me a lot more around here.”

He punches in the code for his Snickers. The row whirs forward slowly.

“See you at the lab.” He hears you discard the empty can in the trash before exiting.

He waits patiently for his bar to drop while his mind internally screams about the consequences of having you work here. You wouldn’t be evil anymore. Unless you were here to steal secrets from the Tower. On the pro side, his weekend would be free again. On the con side, his weekend would be free again.

His bar stops right at the edge of the row. He waits for it to fall over. It doesn’t.

He shakes the machine, suppressing the primal urge to beat the shit out of it when the damn bar refuses to fall.

He punches in a few random buttons hoping that at least it would give his money back.

The little monitor instead flashes a new message across the screen.

‘Have a good day, sarge <3’

Motherfucker.

Captain America looks less daunting up close, you realise. But he is still a very large man with very large shoulders. You know at least four people who would like to scale him like a tree, not that you’d ever tell him.

“Hey, Y/N.” He sends you a small smile when you walk into the room for a mid-week update. A clipboard in your hand, report attached and a few stationery items in case some points needed to be noted done, you look professional and ready.

“Afternoon, Captain.” Tony saves a seat for you and Bruce beside him since you’re on the same project. You almost miss the fact that Bucky isn’t in the room.

He walks in a few minutes late; tall, dark and brooding, immediately bringing the excitement in the room down by 40% by just existing. 

Bucky surveys the room before catching your eye. He picks up his chair with ease and drags it over to where you are, sitting right beside you, ignoring the small cry of protest from an agent whose view he now obstructed. Everyone else just silently shifted over.

“Clingy much?” you whisper at him, eyes still trained on Steve who had waited till everyone was seated to continue.

“I’m supposed t’be keeping an eye on you,” he rebuffs in a hush.

“Well, you’re late. What if I went rogue, huh?”

“Therapy ran overtime,” he mumbles.

“Oh.” You blink. “How was it?”

“Same old.”

“You good?”

He refrains from answering when Steve starts addressing the room but yes, he was fine. He sends you a nod to confirm. 

“This is just a usual checking in. We’ve received all your reports, but just to keep everyone on the same page-”

Bucky logs out mentally. He knows what his job is, he’ll probably lead a division of the security team or join the mission to neutralise the threat in case they find it first. Either way, he’ll figure it out without having to listen to an intern nervously stammer their way through their team’s report. 

On the other hand, you’re not listening either. You were until you saw Bucky’s eyes glaze over while glowering at the window, assuming that he had stopped paying attention when his gaze doesn’t shift.

You should be listening. You’re new here and you should know what’s going on because any bits of detail are crucial to the working of your system. 

Instead, you rip out a sticky note and discreetly place it on the back of Bucky’s metal arm. He doesn’t notice.

You bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling. More post-its from your pile of stationery make their way onto the vibranium, shades of pink, purple, green and yellow decorating his arm like a bulletin board. 

You’re about to contemplate sticking one on his shoulder blade when he whips around to look at you. You freeze, hand in the air with a sticky note. He looks down at his arm, a scoff escaping him in disbelief. 

“Are you serious?” He twists his arm to check the extent of how far you’ve gone. “What are you, six?”

“How’d it take you so long to notice?” You watch as he tugs them off one by one, counting to see how many you had managed to get on there.

“It’s impossible not to zone out in these shitty meetings,” he mumbles, pulling off the last one, crumpling all of them into a ball to throw at you. You skilfully avoid them. 

“Don’t you feel pressure or heat or anything here?” You poke at his metal arm.

“No.” He clenches and releases the fist. “It can block bullets though.”

You snort. “Bet that’s a popular line in bed.”

He rolls his eyes. “I mean, it helps that I can’t feel anything. Sometimes,” he adds the last part as an afterthought. 

“Like when you’re blocking bullets.”

“Especially then.” He nods. 

“Would you ever want to?” you ask casually. “Like if you got the choice, would you prefer having feeling in that arm?”

“I don’t know.” He’s thought about it, but it doesn’t seem feasible in his line of work. He’d like it, though, to feel sand slipping through his fingers and the comforter under his palm. “Maybe when I’m retired.”

“Aren’t you well past that age?”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes. “And pay attention. You’re next.”

“So you are listening.” True to his word, Steve asks about what’s going on with your team. “Traitor.” 

Tony shoots off about how you only had to test it out on a small batch first to see if you could acquire the targeted data without compromising anything else. You chime in about a few specifics, and Bruce more or less just confirms what you both are saying, only stopping to let them know that you’d be finished in a day or two.

Steve nods, moving on to the next committee.

“Did I get a good grade?” you whisper when you lean back again.

“B minus at best.” 

“Fuck you, dude. I was great,” you protested. “It’s definitely worth a gold sticker.”

Someone shushes you sharply. You apologise quietly, whacking Bucky’s metal arm when you see a dumb smirk on his face. 

He narrows his eyes at you. 

You try sticking another post-it on him.

You’re only here for a week. That’s what he’s been told. Over six times, actually, after which he’s been told to go away the next time he asked.

No one’s brought up the job offer so he asks Tony if it was true and all he gets is a dismissive ‘yeah, whatever’. Besides, you haven’t told him if you accepted or denied it yet so isn’t sure if this entire thing is set in stone, per se.

So then why do you have a giant box of your belongings that you’re lugging around the lab, looking to set down?

And why does Tony allow you a table right in the centre of the lab for everyone to see as soon as they walk in?

There are a gazillion trinkets, picture frames and obnoxiously bright stationery that stands out against the dull minimalism of the lab.

“Every single one of these is a fire hazard,” he reports, standing over your desk.

You give him a side glance before reaching over to the side of your desk, pulling up a fire extinguisher and setting it on the table in front of him. “I came prepared, bitch boy.”

He doesn’t dignify that with a response. He chooses to look at what exactly you’ve brought with you because it’s a lot.

There are small cards with ‘thank you!’ sprawled on them in uneven lettering, bits and pieces of paper with small cartoons on them, little clay models and other miniature trophies with ‘you’re the best!’ under it.

“Your students gave you these?” He can’t remember the last time he gave his teacher anything other than a headache.

“Sometimes they learn or communicate better when they have something to keep their hands busy.” There’s a certain fondness in your voice that he isn’t used to hearing. “I end up with a lot of doodles and craft.”

“’s nice of them.” He can tell that this means a lot to you. He hasn’t seen it before.

He thinks the little decorations are adorable and maybe he’d keep another fire extinguisher on hand, just in case. 

Until you start pulling out a set of framed photos and his smile drops.

Several collages of Bucky in flower crowns, him with terribly edited backgrounds of beaches and mountains, a photo of him laughing with ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ next to it in an italicised font.

“What the fuck,” he states, grabbing one of them.

You stifle a laugh, pulling out several more to place along your table.

“Where did you fucking get these?” He starts pulling them off the table one by one.

“I don’t think you know how much the internet is obsessed with you.” You set an especially large one of him in a Hello Kitty bowtie right in the centre. He doesn’t miss the star shaped frame you chose for this.

“What is wrong with you?” He swipes that up immediately, looking for a place to discard, possibly burn these pictures. “Why do you even have these?”

“It’s imperative that people know we’re friends.” You bite your lip, bringing out the last thing to annoy him.

“What is that?” A teddy bear with a blue jacket and a grey felt arm stared into his soul.

“A Bucky bear.” Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t laugh. “Limited edition.”

He snatches it along with the fifteen other picture frames, thinly veiled distress and mostly disgust on his face.

“I hate you.”

“But I love you.” You lift the small heart shaped locket you hung on one of the pictures of your class.

You use both your hands to click it open for him, watching his face morph into one of disbelief.

Bucky my beloved, it read on the right with a small picture of him on the left looking intensely disgruntled. He doesn’t bother asking where you found that specific picture of him outside a Burger King at 3am.

He doesn’t even make an effort to take it away this time. He knows that you’ll simply bring up more and more until you drove him crazy.

“You still have to see the Avengers calendar.” You reach for the inside. “I changed all the pictures to you, it looks great-”

He turns around and leaves before you get a chance to flip open the pages.

He wanders around, looking for the best disposal area he can find. He knows there’s a giant fireplace in the common room in the Tower, and for that, he’d have to go up a couple of floors.

He steps into the elevator, chin pressing down on the several picture frames in his hands to prevent them from falling over.

No one sees him carrying a couple of fan edited pictures and merchandise of him. Which was good.

Unfortunately, the doors ding open on the next floor and his best friend steps on with possibly the worst timing ever.

“Buck?” Steve sounds confused. He should be, considering the sight.

Bucky shimmies slightly to get a better grip on his belongings. “Steven.”

Steve glances at what he’s holding.

“Is this,” Steve pauses, trying to frame his words correctly to sound as supportive as possible, “a therapy thing?”

“No.”

Steve waits for a further explanation.

“It’s Y/N’s,” he elucidates. Steve’s eyebrows furrow.

“Why are there so many pictures of you?” He looks at the content in his hands a little closer. “And a bear.”

“She’s evil. And I hate her.”

“Alright.” It doesn’t answer his question but his friend looks irked enough.

The elevator dings to the common room floor.

Bucky turns on his heel to head toward the place to set all the pictures on fire. He saves the picture frames to give back to you though, he’s sure those cost money. But he makes sure every last square inch of the picture with several hearts around his portrait burns to ash.

Bucky knows that by the time Saturday afternoon rolls around, the three of you would have been working for thirty hours straight, scrambling to get the last minute details done.

You’re still at it but he can tell through the adrenaline of the upcoming deadline that you’re exhausted. 

Now he’s grouchy but he’s not an asshole. He’s already done two coffee runs for the team and brought you food when you didn’t show up for lunch. He mumbles something and dismisses it when you call out a ‘thank you’ his way. He considers it a debt repaid for the gyros.

He’s still keeping an eye on you but along with an emergency box of doughnuts for any sugar rushes that may be needed and bottles of water that he occasionally leaves at the corner of the table for you three to subconsciously keep yourself hydrated. 

“Are you sure we checked it?”

“Yes.” Bruce nods.

“Double checked it?”

“Yes.”

“Triple checked it.”

“Yes.” 

You look satisfied enough to move on to the next item. “Pass me the welding torch for a second.”

Bucky has a book in front of him that he hasn’t moved beyond the second page of. He’s more interested in seeing who collapses from burnout first. He has the infirmary on speed dial. 

After another hour or so Tony holds up a silver tablet, roughly the same size as a smartphone, examining it from all sides.

“That’s it,” he states. “The final product.”

You exhale lightly.

“We should name it.” You have your hands on your hips, looking down at it in wonder. Maybe the zero hours of sleep was finally kicking in because you couldn’t believe you were finally done. 

“You got any suggestions?” Tony asks. 

To be frank, no, you didn’t.

“No.”

“Okay, we’ll do that later.” Tony sets it down, not sounding too disappointed. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, tell the team to get down here, please.”

“Yes, boss.”

Bucky jumps off his chair to join you in the lab, leaving the book behind. 

It only takes a few moments for the others to join. Fury and Steve walk in together, already engaged in conversation.

“Greetings.” You clap your hands together. “We did it. We think.”

“We think?” Nick raises an eyebrow.

“We know,” Bruce clarifies quickly, stepping in. “We’re positive it works. We tested it out.”

Tony pulls up the holograph of F.R.I.D.AY’s system, sliding the tablet to the middle of the table.

“Is it secured under FRIDAY’s core?”

“Locked and loaded.” Tony hits the table lightly to signify that it was safe.

“I think we’re ready,” Bruce confirms.

“We better be, or else half the country is suddenly going to lose their internet connection,” you say under your breath.

“What?” Bucky’s eyebrows knit together.

“Nothing,” you beamed, “Okay F.R.I.D.A.Y., run sequence, global parameter.”

“Running sequence,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. parrots. 

There was no going back now. 

From what Bucky can see, Tony looks fairly confident but you have your bottom lip caged between your teeth, chewing on it nervously. 

There are several hundreds of photographs popping up and disappearing within a minute. Everything looks like it’s going according to plan.

The giant holograph of the AI dims. Your face drops when F.R.I.D.A.Y. seems to sputter to a halt. 

No one breathes.

In the midst of the tension, Clint mutters if they should play some background music. It’s followed by a swift ‘ow’ when Natasha flicks him in the shoulder.

You could hear a pin drop.

It suddenly picks back up again, running faster than the last time and the sigh everyone collectively heaves is almost comical.

It runs for a few seconds more before a list of names suddenly pop up accompanied by a series of photographs and geo locations.

“Sequence complete. Six names detected, zero encroachment on public or private databases,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. broadcasted. “Location determined to be Holland. Exact coordinates are computed into the quinjet.”

You let out a small cheer, looping your arm around Bruce, squeezing him in a half hug. He has a smile on his face, dropping his head as he laughs slightly. 

“How dangerous are they?” Tony, however, continues to ask.

“A few prior convictions and a series of similar threats. Danger level determined to be at approximately five out of ten.” 

“That’s not bad,” Steve commented. “Looks like we don’t need the full team there.”

“Romanoff, Barton, Wilson, Rogers can go ahead and take care of that,” Nick finally spoke up. “Everyone else is working security tomorrow, just in case anyone else decides that terrorism is on their fuckin’ to-do list for the day.”

“Buck, assemble a team and go over strategy for tomorrow,” Steve adds on. “Everyone else go suit up, wheels up in thirty minutes.” 

“Fuckin’ Holland,” Sam scoffs, shaking his head. “Of all the places.” 

“What do you have against Holland?” Nat asks as they leave together.

“Just don’t like ‘em.” Their voices grow faint the further they get.

“Hey.” A small greeting from behind you has you turning around.

Wanda stands in front of you and you have to ignore the fact that the most powerful being on Earth is talking to you. 

“Hey,” you say back.

“I just wanted to say congratulations. You did a great job.” Bits and pieces of her accent poked out. She didn’t seem like she was putting in the effort to cover it up as opposed to the press interviews you had heard a few years ago. 

“Thank you.” You smile. “T’was a team effort.”

“Well, we owe you one anyway,” Steve joins the conversation, leaving aside Tony who was still talking to Bruce.

“I wish I was humble enough to turn it down but I’m not.” You laugh. “It’s nice to have an arsenal of superheroes at my disposal.”

Steve looks like he’s going to respond but his attention is drawn towards F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s announcement that the quinjet was ready to go. He shoots you an apologetic look but you sign for him to go on, you’d meet with him later.

You watch as he claps Tony on the back, telling him to go get some sleep and something with more nutritional value than a pizza pocket in him, nodding at Bruce before taking leave. 

“Y/L/N,” Nick stands beside you, looking ahead at the conversations being had as Steve tugs Clint along with him.

“Nicky,” you tease.

“I know at least seven underground prisons I can put you in if anyone hears you calling me that,” he says stoically. 

“We all know you won’t get rid of me.” You shake your head. “Who’s gonna send you a Christmas card then, huh?”

He simply shakes his head, jutting his hand out and offering a handshake. “Not sure anyone here could handle another day of a highly caffeinated, sleep-deprived Stark.”

“Just say ‘thanks’, Nick, geez.” You roll your eyes. 

Bucky watches the entire interaction unfurl; only the body language, not employing the lip-reading ability. 

“You’re welcome.” You let go of his hand, a devilish look on your face. “You know what I want in return.”

Nick gives you a long, hard stare that could probably melt through Steve’s shield before turning around to leave. 

But Bucky doesn’t miss the subtle high-five he gives you while walking out, unbeknownst to anyone else, bringing the biggest grin to your face.

He makes it a point to ask you what the fuck kind of leverage you have over the man for him to play favourites with you. 

You finally collapse at your desk, letting out a loud exhale. You clench your eyes shut, your body finally melting into your chair. You look exhausted.

He’s not sure how to help. You don’t seem like you have the energy to tell him.

Bucky leaves a doughnut and water bottle on the table in front of you before shuffling out of the room quietly. 

He’s certain that he’s spent far too long in Bruce’s lab this week. He liked the man as much as the next guy, but he probably wouldn’t come down there for the foreseeable future. 

You’re at your assigned desk, reading light illuminating the space. Thankfully you’ve cleared up most of your stuff from the table, leaving no more liabilities to fall over in case he walked into the desk. 

“So you’re done for the week.” His voice surprises you. You were scrolling through your phone, slightly hunched over.

“It appears so.” You put your phone down, swivelling the chair to look at him. 

“How’d it go?” He leans against your table, making sure he isn’t using his full weight.

“Well, I slept for fifteen hours straight, so...” you leave him to connect the dots. He’s done the same several times.

“You’re probably gonna need more,” he says, mostly from his own experience, “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Actually-” you reach beside your table and lug your gigantic box of belongings onto the table with a loud thud, “-you won’t.”

He looks at the box that was nearly overflowing with its contents, the majority of the space being taken up by empty picture frames. “I thought you said Tony offered you a job.” 

“He did,” you confirm. “I didn’t accept.”

“Why?” He watches you shift through a few things, adjusting it so that it wouldn’t fall over.

“This whole thing- it’s cool and all, but it’s not what I want to do.” You shrug. “I like teaching. I miss my class.”

He gaze lands on one of the thank you notes sticking out from the corner of the box. “Ah.”

“Back to school from tomorrow.”

“And evil on the weekends?” he prods, dropping a pen into the heap of stationery. 

“Obviously.” You give him a lopsided smile. “Where else am I gonna use all this brilliance?”

You point to your head. He lets out a small exhale in the form of a laugh.

“Speaking of-” You look like you just remembered something.  

You rummage through your backpack and pull out a small container, handing it to him.

“What’s this?” He turns it over, looking for any hidden clues. “Are you proposing again, because I’ve said no-”

“I’m not proposing,” you interrupt, “yet.”

He gives you a deadpan look.

“Open it,” you urge, and he complies.

Two small squares sit side-by-side. They’re slick black, barely bigger than the face of a dice.

“You put one of them here-” You tap on his bicep “-and the other here.” You tap his shoulder, a few inches below his clavicle.

“What does it do?” He thinks it’s like Nat’s little taser things, a nifty little tool that he could use on missions.

“It, uh-” you hesitate “-it allows you to feel sensation in your metal arm. Heat, pressure, texture.”

His breath hitches in his throat. He doesn’t mean for it to happen, it just does.

“You said that sometimes you’re glad you couldn’t because of the bullets and stuff. They’re detachable, so just take them off when you go on missions and wherever it is you Spandex ambassadors go.” You scoff slightly. 

He can’t remember the last time he felt something soft with that arm or used it for something that wasn’t directly related to his job.  

“I’m not messing with what the Wakandans gave you. It’s the most advanced piece of tech out there.” You shrug. “But if you ever want to feel it when someone attaches sticky notes to your arm, this could work. Just thought it’d be nice to have an option.”

He can’t decipher what he’s feeling right now. He looks up at you, only to catch you eyeing him cautiously, assessing his reaction. When you notice he’s looking at you, a nervous smile makes its way onto your face. 

His stomach does a flip. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly. 

“Don’t mention it.” You sound a little relieved, picking up the box that he’s pretty sure weighed a ton what with all his memorabilia in it. “See you next week.”

He doesn’t know how to explain what it means to him. 

Instead, he shoves his hands into his pockets. “What are you doing later?”

“Nothing.” You pause. “Why?”

“Are you gonna watch the parade?” 

“Yeah, probably.” You shift your weight to your other leg to compensate for the box.

“Want some company?”

“Aren’t you heading a security division?” You have to consciously hide the bewilderment from your voice. 

“Yeah. The place I’m stationed just so happens to have a good look into the street,” he explains, toying with the bracelet on his wrist. “Can’t really promise that I’ll be paying attention to it or that I’d even be there the whole time but for the most part...” he trails off. 

“Uh-” You force yourself to shove aside your surprise at his determination, “yeah, sure. That’d be cool.”

He nods. “Okay. See you there.” 

“See you,” you murmur as you walk to the elevator. 

He opens the tiny container to look at the small chips. They’re still there, silently like they don’t change his world just by existing. 

Gosh.

Next part

[secondhand-trash]

Put a Ring on It

A/N: I started it with the intention of writing a thirst post but it ended up being 1.7k of pure fluff lmao

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x reader

Description: Miya Atsumu had a thing for wearing rings.

Word count: 1772

-

Miya Atsumu had a thing for wearing rings.

Maybe it was how he thought that they made his hands looked bigger, or how the accents never failed to draw even more attention to his slender fingers. Likely, it was just the way how most teenage boys went through a phase of wanting to look stylish and edgy without really bothering to look into having an actual style of their own, resulting in him halting a baggy t-shirt, cargo pants and an unnecessary amount of rings as the peak of men’s fashion. You had your own thoughts on how he was so determined to slip a ring or two into whatever he was wearing whenever he was out of his uniform. You made fun of his sense of fashion none stop, pointing to his bleached hair that has faded from the gold it was supposed to be into a sharp yellow and cheap chunky jewelry as the main culprit.

“You look like a delinquent who smokes cheap cigarettes in parks after school.”

You sniggered when he let out an offended ‘huh’. His chunky silver rings that had obnoxiously prominent carvings on the side brushed dug into the gap between your fingers as he squeezed your hand tighter when he snapped towards your direction. Your free hand, the one that wasn’t in a lock hold by his ring clad one, reached out to brush away his side-swooped bangs. His hair was fried from the boxed bleach he used regularly but as a side perk, the dryness did add to the volume of his hair.

He stood there still as you carefully pushed his hair back, his upper body leaning towards your direction just a little so you didn’t have to struggle to reach him despite his initial protests. You were messing with his hair and he was looking at you, only at you, with his fingers still linked with yours even though you always complained about his rings making it hard for you to hold his hand.

You finally pulled back and your gaze dropped from his bangs to his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat when you met his eyes and they were full of you.

You cursed your weak heart for its sudden moment of swooning when he stood back up straight and his ring scratched against the inside of your finger.

You sighed, “You are so lucky you have a nice face so that people will be too caught up to notice how you dressed.”

Atsumu pretended he couldn’t hear the second half of the sentence and decided to focus on how you said he had a nice face instead.

But then you graduated from high school and he slowly started dressing less like a disastrous teenage boy and more like a proper adult. That athlete money did him well and he was finally able to dress the way he wanted to dress without having to turn into a questionable direction because of monetary limits. The baggy pants were gone from his closet, replaced with pants that actually fit his body and elevate things instead of holding back the visual upper hand he was supposed to have because of his physiques. He finally stopped bleaching his own hair after your many years of nagging but you nearly lost your composure when he showed up in front of your door to pick you up with his new hair for the first time.

“I got the stylist to trim my bangs for me,” he said as he ran his hand through the curl sitting at the side of his forehead and you gulped when you realised that his hair was soft enough for fingers to go through them with ease now, “I’m still trying to get used to not having things over my eye.”

“Oh?” you replied, your voice breathy as you tried to calm down your sea of thoughts at the sight of your boyfriend’s new look. 

You were aware that he was good looking, but everything that he was not born with used to be questionable so it balanced things out. Now he was wearing tight-fitted jeans that made his legs look even more toned as if it was even possible, with a white t-shirt that was tugged in loosely. He had a blazer on too, probably because you made him take you somewhere nice in celebration of his first VLeague cheque, but at this point you were almost certain he had that thing on just to drive you insane. 

And his hair, his god damn windswept fluffy no longer bright yellow hair.

“Do you think I should grow it longer?” he asked as he rubbed the tip of his bangs between the pads of his finger. The silver that sat at the bottom of his digits contrasted starkly with the pale gold and it finally dawned upon you that he stopped wearing the cheap rings you used to make fun of him for a while ago. 

Oh dear, now he was actually hot.

“No,” you blurted out, “it looks nicer this way.”

"You think so?” he asked as you forced your legs to move past your door before shutting it behind your back firmly. You had to force yourself to go out before the urge to make him come in could win, or else you would most certainly end up doing things that would make you miss your reservation.

And you had been excited to leech off of his athlete money.

“Yes, yes I do think so,” you said as you grabbed his hand to pull him along with you. 

You groaned in satisfaction when you realised his new rings did not stop you from sliding your fingers between his like the old ones did.

You started having fewer objections towards his choice of accessaries after his general fashion sense shifted for the better. You even started liking the rings after a while, crediting it to him opting for designs with more simplicity. You liked the way the metal was already warm from his heat when he put his hand on your thigh out of nowhere because he was bored, or when he was at the driver’s seat and the pad of his finger drummed against your skin steadily as he waited for the lights to change. The warmth of his hand always brought you security and he was well aware that nothing called your attention to him like it did. You were not even sure if he was aware, but he had a habit of toying with his rings whenever you were neglecting him because you had your attention on something else. The band he was playing with always ended up off his finger and up yours when you were least expecting it, the feeling of his calloused finger holding your hand as he slid it down always managed to call your gaze back to him.

‘What a child,’ you chuckled to yourself when he looked at you innocently like he could not be having any hidden thoughts, his hand still holding onto yours as he held the ring that was too large for your finger from falling down.

So being the child he was, who always couldn’t fathom the thought of letting you leave his side and was equally eager to let the world know he wasn’t leaving yours, it did not surprise you at all when you were tidying up your drawers one day to find a velvet box tugged all the way back into his sock drawer.

You had a feeling it was exactly what you thought it was, and you laughed at the image of him trying to find somewhere to hide it in the house while you were not around.

Of course, leave it up to Miya Atsumu to hide a ring at the back of his sock drawer because he thought it was the one place you wouldn’t look into unless you were left with no choice.

You giggled to yourself and closed the drawer, letting the box stayed right where it was.

You weren’t looking. You wanted to, but you weren’t. Because you knew he would whine to no end if you didn’t look as surprised as he wanted you to be when he finally showed it to you for real.

He still had no clue that you already knew it was coming when he got down on one knee and took the box out of his pocket with shaky hands. He cried when you said yes and you cried when he started crying, even though you had already rehearsed in your head for a million times on how you would say yes ever since you saw the velvet box inside of his sock drawer. 

He was still sobbing when he realised he needed to get up from the ground, wiping his tears away on the sleeve of his very expensive blazer before clumsily taking the ring out of the box to put it on your finger. Miya Atsumu was an ugly crier through and through and you finally admitted to yourself that you were a whipped fool when you still wanted to kiss his stupid face even though his eyes were swollen and he missed your finger a few times before finally getting the ring in.

“Now we match,” he said with a hiccup, laughing but sounding like he was about to break down into another round of tears as soon as the chuckle left his mouth, “you can’t make fun of my rings anymore.”

He was so dumb, and you felt like crying again when he took out an identical ring from his pocket and put it on his own hand. Who the hell does that? You wanted to laugh at him but you couldn’t, because you knew you would start sobbing again if you do that.

“You’re an idiot,” you said, grabbing his hand to steady him because he was shaking and you were sure he might just drop the ring if he kept fidgeting.

He sniffled, grinning ear to ear through his tears when he saw the ring that sat on your finger.

“So?” he said, happily holding your hand in his to look at how perfectly it fits, the rings and your hands, “You can’t get rid of me now, I got the ring to prove it.”

You huffed, but couldn’t stop yourself from smiling when he rubbed his fingers along his engagement ring like he was making sure that it was still there.

You decided that it would be your favourite ring of his until you get to put the wedding band onto his finger yourself.

[bnhabadass]

So excited to be sharing my piece for this months bnharem collab!!! The theme for this is, you guessed it, sex worker!au. I am so honored to be writing along with everyone else who put so much time and energy into writing these pieces. Please please please check out their collab pieces here. Everyone has put so much work into these so give them a read through and some warm and fuzzy notes 😊💕✨

Pairing: Touya Todoroki x Reader Genre: NSFW Warnings: Coercion, Dubcon, Anal fingering, Hardcore sex, Deepthroating, Dabi is a Todoroki Word Count: 6,166 Synopsis: Rich ceo Enji Todoroki gives you the offer of a lifetime on one condition. You have to sleep with his eldest son.

Working at a strip club was the last thing you pictured yourself doing after you graduated high school. After graduating and moving into a cheap apartment on the outskirts of town, you decided to start working immediately to support yourself. At first, you first got a job working at a cute little Italian restaurant that paid quite well. Waiting tables helped pay the bills and save up for college a little, but after two years of working at the same restaurant, it unfortunately went out of business.

That was one of your worst months, constantly looking for new work and facing rejection after rejection to the point that you were plagued by the phrase, “not enough work experience.” By the time a month and a half went by of you scoping out newspapers and checking all of the job finder apps on your phone, you had gone through most of your savings.

One of your best friends, after realizing how bad your situation was, decided that it couldn't hurt to see if you wanted a position at the joint she ran.

You were very skeptical at first, since she happened to run an insanely popular erotic dance club (aka, a strip club) in town, but she assured you that you wouldn’t be stripping, just bartending and dishwashing. As soon as she explained everything, you immediately took her up on the offer and decided from then on you would owe Mina Ashido your life.

You were able to pick things up easily, make conversation with customers and become friends with many of the dancers who worked at the club. The only downside to working the job was, well, you’re cute. And that meant you got a lot of unwanted attention from guys who initially came for the strippers.

Mina assured you that if you ever needed to take a step away, that that was perfectly fine. But the attention you got wasn’t so bad, you thought. At least there was a bar counter separating you from the wandering hands and predatory words of these people.

Bartending, while it was enough to pay the bills and save up for some nicer furniture, did not pay as much as you would have liked it to. While you wouldn’t have dreamed of asking your friend for a raise, you still felt somewhat resentful watching the dancers at the club walk home with stacks of cash from tips meanwhile you had to wait every two weeks to get your next paycheck.

You were astonished when, on your twenty-first birthday, Mina offered you a job as a dancer. “A lot of our regular customers have been asking about that ‘cute bartender,’” she said. “And I think you would actually really enjoy it. Plus, it pays a lot more.” She ended that last bit in a sing-song voice, as if that in and of itself would be enough to convince you.

You were tempted to say no, you really were, but you’ve seen how much fun the dancers have and how much money they walk away with every night. You knew next to nothing about stripping or pole dancing, but Mina assured you that she’d teach you and that you’d pick it up fast.

And she wasn’t wrong. After a month of her teaching you how to sway your hips and gyrate your body, dip down and caress every exposed inch of skin with your supple fingers, you were ready to hit the audience with everything you had.

You didn’t realize how much fun you would have as a pole dancer. It was a great form of exercise and you kind of liked having lots of people cheering for you to show off your sexy moves. Plus, walking home with a stack of cash each night was one of the greatest perks it came with.

There was only one rule that you had, which you made abundantly clear to Mina. All you would be doing was pole dancing. No lap dances, no touching the audience, and for the love of god, no sleeping with the audience.

And she respected your wishes, even going as far as asking some customers to leave who have tried to touch you without your consent. She keeps a hawk eye over you and every audience member and their wandering hands. You’re nothing but grateful for everything she has done for you.

After the first few months of pole dancing and wearing revealing costumes, you moved into a new apartment and bought nicer furniture. Things were definitely starting to turn around for the better.

“Hey,” you greeted your fellow coworkers as you made your way into the locker room. The club was about to close up for the night and you were more than ready to flop onto your bed at home and sleep until your next shift. “Have any of you seen Mina?”

The other girls looked around at one another. No one seemed to have an answer for her whereabouts.

“Oh!” Nejire popped up. “I think I saw her talking to some guy in her office. Yeah, yeah. Some big guy wearing a business suit.”

Tsu frowned. “I wonder what that could be about.”

You nodded, a sudden feeling of anxiety washing over you. You really hoped she wasn’t being bought out or something. If she wasn’t the one running the club anymore, or worse, if the club was demolished, you would be surely out of a job.

A knock on the locker room door made you swallow your thoughts. “Is (Y/n) in here?” Mina’s voice rang through the room.

“I’m here,” you piped.

She looked scared, and a bit pale. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her look fearful before, even when dealing with rough customers who refuse to leave the building. “Could you come with me for a sec?”

“Sure.” The anxiety you were feeling was bubbling back in your stomach. “Just let me get dressed.”

“Actually,” her voice was shaking. “If you could come here now that would be better.”

You paused, then nodded and followed her to her office. On the way there, she squeezed your hand, slipping something inside.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “Please, please forgive me for doing this.”

“Mina, what’s going on?” You were worried. Never in the time that you knew her had she ever been so apologetic.

At her office door, you looked at what she slipped into your hand. A small pink bottle of pepper spray stared back at you. What could she have done that you would need this?

She opened her office door and on the other side, like Nejire said there would be, was a big, beefy businessman clad in a suit that was probably worth more than your rent.

“Mina,” you whispered to your best friend. “What is going on?”

The man turned around and you shrunk at his intimidating appearance. You felt the need to cross your arms and cover up your exposed skin of which there was a lot of. “Hello,” the man bellowed with such a low timber. “You must be (Y/n).”

How did he know your name? What did Mina tell him? Who is this man?

You meekly nodded your head and clutched onto the pepper spray until your knuckles couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Forgive me for not introducing myself first.” He extended a hand. “My name is Enji Todoroki and I am the ceo of Todoroki Enterprises.”

You gulped. What the hell did Mina get herself into? You croaked out an “oh” before extending your hand and shaking his. “That’s nice.” You didn’t really know what to say. Was he considering buying the building from Mina? You looked at her and she shrunk back at your gaze.

“Ashido,” he said with a stern demeanor. “If you would please.”

She nodded and squeezed your shoulder one last time. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered in your ear one last time before leaving the room.

And then there was silence. You took a moment to breathe and look around Mina’s office, find something to calm your nerves with. Her office was usually like a little safe haven for you and the other dancers. She deemed a corner of the room the “zen area” where she set up cushions and a kettle and tea boxes. You stared at the fuzzy pink cushion you were so used to sitting on. You were sure your butt had made an imprint.

“Please, take a seat,” Enji Todoroki said, gesturing to the other side of Mina’s desk, away from the cushion that brought you so much comfort.

You frowned at his tone of voice, as if he had been there many times before and as if he owned the damn office himself. At least there was a nice fuzzy blanket on that side of the desk which you could use to cover yourself.

“I can tell that my presence is intimidating you,” he said. “But please, allow me to make my offer before jumping to any conclusions.”

Why was he making an offer to you? What did he want from you?

“As I am sure you are aware, Todoroki Enterprises is a million dollar company run by me and my other associates.”

You nodded. You were not aware of that but you were afraid of what would happen if you asked too many questions.

“And once I retire, the company will fall on the shoulders of my eldest son, Touya.” Enji Todoroki sighed and rubbed his eyes and the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “At the moment, he is being rather difficult.”

You nodded. You weren’t sure what was going on, why he was telling you this, but hearing about this rich ceo’s family drama did spark a bit of interest in you.

“He is not doing what I ask of him. He spends all day sleeping in and wasting my money and he refuses to take any part in working for the company.”

That sounded like typical teenage behavior to you. You weren’t sure why this man was being so pessimistic about it, or why he was even telling you in the first place. Surely it’s just a phase he would grow out of. “I’m sorry,” you started, feeling incredibly out of place with the conversation. “I’m not really sure why you’re telling me this information.”

Enji Todoroki let out another sigh. It wasn’t so much that he was fed up with your inability to understand, but really he seemed reluctant to be there talking to you in the first place. “I believe that if he were to have some, well, motivation, he may actually perform his tasks as a part of the company and as future head.”

“Motivation?” What on earth did he mean by that?

“I watched you and your co-workers perform tonight, and from watching your movements paired with his type, you seem like you would be best suited for the job.”

Your face flushed. He couldn’t be suggesting that, could he?

“(L/n), I would like to hire you to have intercourse with my son.”

Your eyes widened. He wanted what? There was no way, no way you could do that. “I’m sorry,” you said with staggered breath. “I don’t think I’m comfortable having sex with a teenager.” You smiled and nodded, thinking that would be the end of it.

“A teenager? My son is twenty-six years old.”

You paused for a moment before letting out an incredibly articulate, “uhhhhh, what?”

“My son is a fully grown adult, older than you in fact. So if your concerns lie within the legality of this exchange I can assure you that he is not a minor.” Enji Todoroki’s booming voice had just shattered your resolve.

Still, he couldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to. All you had to do was tell him no and it would have been fine.

But you didn’t get a chance to. Before you could even think of what to say next, Enji Todoroki spoke up yet again. “I presume you are wondering what kind of compensation you will be receiving in return.”

You stayed silent.

“Your boss tells me that you are saving up to attend university and intend on furthering your education. I can only admire that kind of work ethic.”

Why? What could he possibly do with that information to make his offer worthwhile? It dawned on you then that that is why Mina was acting so weird, apologizing constantly as she led you to her office. She must not have been able to find a way out of this for you. Either that or the deal was too good to speak on your behalf of. But what could it even be?

“If you are willing to spend a night with my son and get him to take more responsibility in the company, Todoroki Enterprises will pay for your full college tuition at any institution you decide to attend.”

Your jaw fell onto the floor. This had to be a prank, right? Was he seriously offering to pay your full tuition for you?

“So, do we have a deal?” Enji Todoroki leaned forward against the desk and folded his hands together, large hands that could probably hurt you if you decided to say no.

“This is...” you trailed off. You didn’t know what to say or how to respond to an offer like that. He must be pretty desperate for his son to work in order to pay for your tuition in full.

His son.

Oh.

If you took up this offer, then you would have to… “What if I say no?” you asked.

He cleared his throat. “While I would tell you that saying no to this offer would not be in your best interest,” he started. “I cannot force you to say yes or do anything you are uncomfortable with.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. This was an impossible decision. You didn’t know his son, what he looked like or if he would even want to have sex with you. “It would only be for one night, right?”

Enji Todoroki nodded and let out a sort of grunt out of confirmation.

The thought of being with someone you didn’t know was scary. But at the same time, you would never get an opportunity like this again. Taking a deep breath in and keeping your dream school in mind, you nodded. “I’ll do it.”

“You made the right choice.” He stood up and you followed suit, assuming he’d have you shake his hand and schedule a time and place. “If you’d follow me, the car is waiting out front.”

“Wait, you mean right now?” No, you needed more time to prepare, to figure things out and to take it all in.

“Unless you have something important to attend to, which I doubt you do since you just finished your shift at work, then yes right now.” His eyes, which you hadn’t realized were such a remarkable shade of blue, bore deep into you. “I don’t like to be kept waiting, and neither does my son.”

“Right,” you flinched. “Um, if I could just grab my stuff and get dressed–”

“There will be no need. I already asked your boss to gather your things. We will provide a covering for you so there is no need to get dressed.” The authoritative tone to his voice made you feel so small, like there would be no way for you to even say no against his gaze. “Now if you’ll please follow me.”

You nodded and followed him out of the office and past the locker room where Mina and the other girls watched as you walked away. You barely had any time to watch them or wish them a good night before Enji Todoroki’s bellowing voice spoke up again.

“Our car is waiting out front. In the meantime, you can cover yourself with this.”

Another stranger, someone you presume works for Todoroki Enterprises, handed you a long, tan trench coat. You swiftly threw it over your shoulders and fastened the tie tight against your stomach. He also presented the boots that you wore to work that morning. Mina must have given them your things.

“If you’ll follow me this way,” the stranger said.

He led you outside where you could see the sun begin to poke its way up from beyond the horizon. You hadn’t realized how early in the morning it was. Would Enji Todoroki’s son even be awake at this point?

You were ushered into the backseat of a sleek black Tesla. You had never been in a car that nice before. It made the whole ordeal more harrowing and unreal. “Is Todoroki-san not coming with us?” you asked.

“He’ll be in the car right in front of us. Don’t worry, ma’am.” You usher closed the door and entered the driver’s side of the vehicle. He was a smooth driver, which helped with the nervous bubbles in your stomach that refused to calm down.

Free college, you had to remind yourself. This really was an incredible offer. You hadn’t even let it sink in until you were alone in the backseat of the Tesla, only accompanied by your usher and the light classical music that played on the radio. You would be able to go to any school you wanted to, free of charge. You couldn’t help the giddy smile that played its way onto your lips. This felt like a dream you were scared to wake up from.

“We’re here,” your usher said. Looking out your window, you saw that he had pulled up in front of a tall building reaching more stories than you could count. He opened the door for you and you stepped out into the cool, early morning breeze.

Enji Todoroki had also stepped out of his vehicle and gestured for you to follow him. The wind tickled your legs and you hugged the trench coat tight against your figure. He led you into the lavish building where one of the receptionists handed you a small paper cup of coffee. You were then brought to the elevators where you, Enji Todoroki, and your usher brought you up to one of the tops floors.

The elevator ride felt like it lasted forever. Your hands gripped the coffee cup and shaky lips sipped the beverage as Enji Todoroki talked your ear off. You knew that the receptionist gave you the drink because she figured you would be tired, but you were sure that your nerves would keep you awake regardless of the caffeine.

“I called my son in for an early meeting so he should be here.”

You nodded at the man’s words. This was really happening.

“And if he refuses to show up then we will provide a room for your lodging until he arrives.”

So you would be camping out here until the deed was done. A thought popped into your head, one that hadn’t even come to mind when you were given the offer. “What if he doesn’t want to have sex with me?” you asked.

Enji Todoroki paused. He didn’t really know what to say. “Knowing my son, he will.” As if that was supposed to give you any reassurance. “But on the off chance that he doesn’t, we will still compensate you for your time here.”

But no free college. The thought lingered in your mind. Of course you were doing this for the perks. You wanted to be able to make the most out of your young adulthood and part of that meant furthering your education. But you were still scared shitless by the bright fluorescent lights of the building as the grand elevator doors opened up on your destination.

“Wait outside the door,” Enji Todoroki directed at your usher, and you assumed you were supposed to wait with him. He led you through the halls and stopped at a door that's placard read “Touya Todoroki.”

You leaned against the wall and downed the rest of your coffee.

“I can take your empty cup for you, ma’am,” your usher said with a bright smile.

You smiled back and shaky hands dropped the empty paper cup in his own. You needed to stop shaking so much, but you didn’t think you could if you tried.

You could hear Enji Todoroki’s authoritative voice from outside the door and another one, you presumed him son. He sounded bratty, from what you picked up on their conversation. The more you picked up on it, the more nauseous you felt. “Is there a–”

“Bathroom?” your usher finished for you. “Right around the corner. But I would make it quick.”

At least he had a friendly smile that put you at ease. If this person you were supposed to sleep with was anything like him then maybe you wouldn’t mind it, but you had a feeling that was not going to be the case.

You stumbled into the bathroom and untied the trenchcoat, letting it fall to your ankles. You pulled your panties down and sat on the toilet, relieving your bladder. Your legs trembled. Not even you placing your hands over your thighs could stop them. A chill ran up your spine. How long had you been in there? No, you just sat down. Not much time had passed. But you should get back quickly. Enji Todoroki and his son, Touya, would be waiting.

By the time you got back to your usher, they were still arguing in Touya’s room? Office? You weren’t sure whether or not it was a bed or a desk behind the closed door.

“You’re just in time,” your usher said. “Any minute now.”

He had probably been working for Todoroki Enterprises, Enji Todoroki specifically, for a long time, because as soon as he said that, his boss’s booming voice called for him.

“Yamamoto,” he said, “bring her in.”

Your usher, Yamamoto, opened the door to Touya’s office and you tentatively stepped in. The office was spacious. A cluttered desk sat center in the room. On the other side there was a small couch facing a flat screen TV, although you couldn’t see the screen from where you stood.

And then, there was Touya. A young man with dyed black hair and white roots springing up from the center of his head looked your way. He was quite attractive. He had a much more lean figure compared to his father. He wore a tight fitting black dress shirt that accentuated his muscles, but what really set him apart from anyone you had ever seen was his face. Beautiful teal eyes, much like his fathers, stared back at you. The piercings in his nose and over his lips reflected the light from overhead. He would have to be one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen.

“What is this,” he asked. “Another marriage arrangement?”

“No,” Enji, you think you know him well enough by now to start referring to him by just his first name, sighed. “This is not a marriage arrangement. After all, you threw aside the last twelve options I’ve given you.” He seemed to mumble the last part. He cleared his throat and spoke again. “I have hired her to take care of any of your...needs, and in return I expect you to finally pick up your slack and take part in this company.”

Touya scoffed. “So what is she then? A hooker?”

You felt incredibly out of place, and you averted your eyes to the dark hardwood floors you were standing on. “I’m not a hooker,” you mumbled.

“What was that, sweetheart? I couldn’t really hear you.” Touya snickered as you flinched at the nickname.

“Touya, I expect you to treat her with dignity and respect while you two are enacting in your...activities.” Enji turned to Yamamoto and nodded. “With that settled, I will leave you two alone.”

He and Yamamoto walked out the door and left. That was it? He wasn’t going to assure your safety any more than that? You were left alone in a strange room with this man you didn’t know who you were supposed to fuck. And you were completely and utterly defenseless.

You wish you still had that pepper spray Mina handed you. You’re pretty sure you left it on her desk when you had your initial chat with Enji. If only you had thought ahead enough to remember to bring it with you.

“So what’s your name, doll?” Touya, who was now on the couch, asked. His cheek rested on his fist and a lazy expression was splayed across his face.

“(Y/n),” you said, turning to look at him.

“That your first name?”

You nodded.

He chuckled. “So, what did my old man pay you to do this for me? A hundred k? Two hundred?”

“Free college tuition.”

His eyes widened. “Wow. He must really want me to start taking part in this company.” Leaning back. He patted his lap. “Why don’t you come over and take a seat, sweetheart.”

You didn’t want to comply, but your legs moved on their own as they walked towards him. Your butt found its place sitting on his lap and you pretended not to notice his semi erect cock pushing into your cheeks.

“Aren’t you a little obedient one,” he teased. One of his hands rubbed down your exposed thigh and up your trench coat. He thumbed over the collar of the coat. “So are you gonna take this off for me, or do I have to be the one to take it off you?”

You shuddered and he chuckled at how nervous he made you. Touya emanated so much warmth but even under the trench coat you had never felt so cold.

“Lemme guess, this is your first time whoring yourself out?” He grinned like the fucking cheshire cat as you squeezed your eyes shut out of embarrassment. “Nothing to be ashamed of,” he said with a cocky grin. His thumbs trailed up to the tie on your coat and his fingers pulled it open. “And I gotta admit.” He pulled the sides of the coat off and let it fall off of your shoulders onto the couch. “My dad has got my type pegged down to the nail.”

You were now fully exposed to the man in front of you. Your black bra accentuated your bosom and if it weren’t for the end of the trench coat you were still sitting on, you would have been able to feel the rough material of Touya’s slacks rutting against your ass.

He leaned down to lick a long stripe against the skin peeking out of your bra. “Although I wouldn’t have pegged you as someone who is this compliant.” His hands traveled further up until his fingers were wrapped around your panties, tugging at the elastic keeping them up. He moved up to pepper kisses up your neck, and you let out a sharp gasp when he bit your ear lobe.

“Sorry,” you mumbled when he stopped to let out a laugh.

He moved you off his lap so you were sitting next to him. “You’re not used to this. I get it.”

And you let out a sigh of relief at hearing those words. He was less scary then you thought he’d be. His kisses were gentle up until he bit you and the way he stroked his fingers up and down your exposed skin was comforting in a way.

But just as soon as you began to relax, his eyes narrowed with an evil tint. His hand reached down to unbuckle his pants. “So let's start with you getting on your knees to suck at my cock, shall we?”

Your body was frozen. His demeanor changed in an instant. You didn’t know what to do.

“Come on, doll. I don’t like asking twice.” Now, his hand was making its way up and down his dick. It was bigger than any you had seen before, not that you had seen many to compare it to to begin with.

You stood up from the couch and made your way in front of him, bracing your hands on his thighs as you lowered yourself down.

“That’s it. Now why don’t you pick it up and give it a few good strokes.” He guided your hand towards his dick and stroked it with your soft palm. It took a few strokes before you managed to get a hold of the rhythm. “That’s it. Now why don’t you give the tip a little kiss, hmm?”

Give it a kiss? You didn’t know how to put your feelings in words. His dick was impressive in length and width. There was a series of piercings lining the underside and the thought of them inside of you made you squirm. You leaned your head down and gave the tip a kiss.

Touya smirked. “That’s a good girl. Now open your mouth, sweetheart.”

You parted your lips slightly only to have him grip your hair and shove your head down against his length. You gagged and tears sprung out of your reddening eyes as you tried to push up for your release.

“Come on, sweetheart. Don’t you want that free tuition? If you want it, you gotta earn it.”

Gripping onto his shaft with one free hand, you hollowed your cheeks and tightened the shape of your mouth.

As he hesitantly loosened his grip on the back of your head, you realized what kind of person he was. He liked to be in control at all times, he’s the kind of person to take what he wants, and you knew that the act of him giving you gentle kisses not even five minutes earlier was just a facade.

Running your tongue up his pierced dick wasn’t as horrid as you thought it would be. You almost smiled at the sharp inhale he took when you swirled your tongue around the tip and lowered yourself onto him fully, using one of your hands to grip his balls and the other to keep your balance against him.

Breathe through your nose, you had to remind yourself.

The soft grunts that Touya made and the way he squeezed your ass may have gone over your head. Especially when he snuck his fingers under your panties and began to prod at your little asshole with his middle finger.

It took you by surprise, and you almost clamped your teeth around his cock out of shock.

“Easy easy,” he said, lifting your head off of his member. He took a moment to stare at your ruined face. Drool and slobber spilled down your chin and your makeup, which had been slowly rubbing off throughout the night, was completely gone as your tears had dragged it across your cheeks. “Look at you, you fucking whore.”

He’s right. You were a whore, selling your body for free education. What was wrong with you? And what was wrong with him getting off on this?

You wanted to speak up, but he beat you to it. “Why don’t you bend over the couch, sweetheart. I’ll show you what guys like me do to little whores like you.”

You hated how you could feel a rush of pleasure between your thighs at his words. Nevertheless, you obediently made your way over to the arm of the couch as he stood up, and you leaned over it so your ass was in the air and stomach was pressed flat against the cushy material.

Touya ran his hands over the fabric of your panties before ripping them off, tearing them to shreds. “Don’t worry about it, doll. I’ll buy you a new pair.”

He fucking better. Lace briefs are expensive for how little skin they cover. But your thoughts on the prices of various pieces of lingerie were pushed out of your mind when you felt something wet prodding at your exposed cunny. His tongue pushed past your folds and lips sucked around your clit.

Your hips pushed into the side of the couch and he snickered at how much he was affecting you. He slipped his thumb into your hole and you squeezed around the digit. “You’re so tight. I’d have expected you to be a bit more worn out.” The pads of his fingered rubbed quick little circles into your clit as his tongue dragged up to flicker against your bumhole, which fluttered against his touch. “Never had anything up here before?”

You shook your head vigorously against the couch and squirmed around as he ate out your ass with the full intent to make you cum. His fingers picked up the pace and if you didn’t have the couch to support you, you were sure you’d collapse into a heap onto the floor. You were edging closer to your orgasm, so close, so damn close, and then he pulled away.

Touya removed his thumb from inside your hole and sucked it clean. He laughed as you mumbled something about being close to cumming, but you shut up when you heard him tossing his shirt aside and dragging his pants further down his thighs. “I gotta say, after every shitty thing my dad has done to me, I gotta thank him. This is the best present he’s ever gotten me after all.”

You didn’t have time to think about what he just said as he lined his dick up between your cheeks and slid it up and down, gathering up his saliva and bits of your vaginal juices. He wasn’t planning on shoving his whole dick up your ass, was he? You didn’t think you’d be able to take that without any lube, or at least without anything other than spit.

It was almost as if he was so in tune with your body that he could hear your thoughts. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I won’t stick anything too big up there for now.”

For now? What did that mean?

He lined up his tip with your entrance and carefully pushed his way in. He thought to himself that he’d always remember the way you cried out in pain and pleasure as he snapped his hips forward once the tip was snuggly in place.

The way his piercing rubbed against your insides caused your toes to curl. Chills ran up your back and Touya rubbed a large palm over your spine to ease some of the pain.

He was raw and merciless as he pushed your head down into the couch cushions and thrusted into you at an alarming rate. You barely had time to catch your breath as he pushed balls deep inside of you.

Touya inched one of his fingers inside your tight little back hole to the first knuckle, and curled the digit up and down as you squeezed around him. He continued to push further and further in until you let out a sob of pleasure and the pace of his thrusts quickened.

Your body felt so hot yet so cold as you were pushed back and forth against the couch. It wasn’t long before you felt your orgasm build up again, but this time Touya didn’t stop. He wormed his finger around and continued thrusting into you until he felt you squeeze against him and your fluids gush out around him.

You laid limp against the couch as he pulled his finger out of your back hole and gripped both of your hips, continuing to thrust at a hard and fast pace until he came inside of you.

There was a moment of eire silence between the two of you as he settled down and pulled his cock out. You could hear him shuffling over to the other end of the room and typing something on his phone. “Yamamoto should be up with a towel to clean you up soon.”

You let out a groan of acknowledgement and sat up. Your body was still shaky, but not with nerves. You felt as though you had been thoroughly recked.

Touya couldn’t help but laugh at how pathetic you looked. “Was it worth the free college, babe?” he chided.

“Yeah,” you smiled to yourself. “Yeah it was.”

His smirk grew wider and a more devious glint in his eyes appeared. “Good. Now next time, let’s see if we can get something a little bigger in that back hole of yours.”

Your smile dropped and you could feel any contents in your belly churning around. “Next time?”

“What,” his eyes lowered in amusement. “You didn’t think this was a one time thing, did you? If you want that free college then you gotta earn it, doll.” He made big strides over to where you sat on the couch and gripped your chin, making sure you were staring into his bright teal and devious eyes as he spoke. “That was the best fuck I’ve had in weeks. I’m not planning on throwing you away any time soon, sweetheart.”

[writing-in-april]

Kid.

Poe Dameron x Female Reader

Summary: Reader can’t get Poe to stop calling her kid so she’s tries a new method of getting him to stop.

A/N: Hey guys!!! Here’s my sixth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April— I had a really fun time writing this all out lol- I feel like it’s very telling when reading this what I like lol 😂 I hope y’all enjoy it and I’m always looking for feedback or really anything my followers want to talk about- you can send me an ask here- I’d love to hear from y’all 🥰

Warnings: 18+, Age Gap (never specified specifically how large it is), Reader overreacts just a bit, Sub Poe, Smut, Hate fucking, Dry fucking, Oral sex (M receiving), Choking, Edging, Unprotected sex, Creampie

Main Masterlist Word Count: 2.4K

Your nerves were alight with frustration and annoyance, your jaw clenched tight enough to give you a small pressure headache. Poe seemed to always know exactly how to push your buttons perfectly. He knew- he knew how you felt about the nickname he had chosen for you. You didn’t know why he continued to call you that, maybe it was just to push your buttons because he thought it was funny or worse because he actually thought of you as inferior to him.

Despite your arguing thoughts trying to tell you that Poe is only doing this to get under your skin, you couldn’t help but get angry every time he said it. You knew he respected all of the younger pilots, maybe he just thought you weren’t as skilled- even though he had complimented your flying skills many times.

You had asked him not to use the nickname over a million times it seemed. It boiled your blood to hear it, making you feel like he didn’t respect you fully because you were somewhat younger than him.

“Hey Kid!” He shouted out as you retreated away from him in pure anger. It didn’t really matter what you had been arguing about, your anger boiled over as soon as you heard the nickname out of his mouth.

You had both just returned from a mission together along with the rest of your squadron that Poe commanded. You were exhausted and Poe just had to get under your nerves at the prime time.

Stomping from the hangar all the way to your rooms was somewhat of a long walk, you encountered people but you brushed them off as quickly as you could. There was no doubt that Poe was hot on your heels, probably in an attempt to make amends. Though every time he promised that he wouldn’t say it again- he of course broke that promise.

Both of your rooms were in the exact same hallway on base, one reserved for upper personnel. If he cared to acknowledge it he’d notice that you’re not the kid he claims that you are, you’re upper personal for fucks sake. You stomped off down the hallway not caring if he followed you or not, you’d just shut the door in his face if he tried to continue.

He did in fact follow you as you suspected, not for the purpose of going to his own room right next to yours. He followed you to continue the argument.

“Come on don’t walk away I just want to talk!” You scoffed, he didn’t want to talk, he wanted to argue. Paying him no mind you pressed the key card in far too hard to woosh open the door to your room.

Somehow Poe managed to scoot in through the door frame just as you were going to close it. Your fists clenched in anger, not wanting to turn to look at him as it would only make the fire in your belly rage more.

“Well- Kid you gonna tell me why you stomped away from me?” He was hunched over breathing heavily from chasing you down. You wanted to stomp your foot in indignation over frustration due to the fact that he absolutely did know why you had stomped away from him. You whipped around to face him finally, annoyed that he was in your room now- just another thing to add to the list of grievances.

“Stop calling me Kid!” He chuckled in response to your fury, just like he always did, acting like your anger was completely unreasonable. Maybe it was, but you were tired of him going against what you had specifically requested.

He was about to retort after he finished chuckling, his mouth opening in a way that was obviously going to become a sassy remark.

You grabbed the front of his flight suit in anger and pushed him onto the cot you slept on every night. Anger was radiating through you, with no intention of abating, you needed to get rid of it somehow.

Instead of screaming like you normally would have you did something you never thought you’d have the guts to do, you kissed him. The kiss wasn’t filled with sweetness, it was hot, heavy, and full of your frustration. He definitely tried to overpower the kiss, yet eventually accepted defeat- maybe for the first time in his life.

“Do you want this? I won’t be gentle.” You asked while holding the front of his flight suit, bringing his face close to yours and holding eye contact. He nodded with a gulp and you released your grip on his orange suit. Nonchalantly you then asked while moving to close the door to your room, “What’s your safe word?”

“I use the color system.” You nodded in confirmation, coming back after shutting the door so you could escape prying eyes. When you moved to straddle his hips you could see his eyes darken further, pupils blown wide in lust.

To start your journey to ruining him you rested your still clothed center to rest right over his growing bulge. Starting with slow light movements seemed to frustrate him, you didn’t care. He wanted to contest your dominance over him, but not too much as he did not move to touch you, waiting for your permission. The only time he allowed himself to move was when you captured his lips into a bruising kiss, bringing his face up to meet yours by your fingers tangled into his inky curls.

He whimpered underneath you as you ground your hips harder into his bulge. There were still many layers of clothing you had yet to take off, you could still firmly feel how hard he was through them all. He tried to reach up to grab your hips, but you didn’t let him get very far. Instead of letting him touch you you took both of his hands and pinned them above his head.

“Maybe I would let you touch me if you behaved.” The sneer in your voice made Poe flinch away and whimper again, though he did not say anything. You then tried to goad him into speaking, “Are you going to apologize to me?”

Despite his pathetic little whimpers that showed you his submission to you he still refused to budge. His head shook back and forth, telling you no to your request. In response to his refusal you scoffed and didn’t give him the satisfaction of a stinging retort for now. Instead you started to grind into him harder with a faster pace that had him close to falling apart in his flight suit.

When you could feel him starting to approach his release, his cock twitching in the flight suit, your movements stopped abruptly. You had to remove one of your hands from where you had them pinned on the cot to slap it over his mouth when a broken cry that would have been too loud tried to escape.

You chuckled darkly at his desperate look, his eyes watering a little, “If you would just apologize I would let you finish.”

He tried to make a noise, but underneath the pressure of your hand it barely made a sound. When I removed my hand his bratty attitude re-emerged, “I won’t apologize.”

His indignation made your jaw tick, he must have been looking for a punishment at this point. It was now your job to make sure you gave him one that he wouldn’t enjoy, otherwise it wouldn’t be a punishment.

You released his hands so you could begin to undress him, his flight suit had a small wet spot on it from his precum. It made you wonder how soaked his boxers were underneath. They were just as wet as you expected. You run your fingers around the spot, making his hips buck a little which you stopped by pushing them down with your other hand.

When you then peeled his boxers off of him along with his flight suit you decided to give him a taste of what he wanted, planning on ripping it away again just as he was about to finish.

You shuffled your body down his until your mouth was resting over his cock, it looked painful to you. Flushed a deep red with precum leaking down his shaft and was hot and heavy in your hands. You didn’t have any plans on letting him finish anytime soon, you couldn’t imagine he could stand it much longer before breaking and giving you an apology.

His fingers twitched at his side when you blew cool air onto his length, you sneered again, “If you touch me I’ll stop.”

He did follow that direction at least, leaving his hands by his side and fisting the sheets. As a slight reward or even more of a punishment from a different perspective you let him feel your mouth around him. Suckling the tip slightly made his toes curl, but he still did not say anything. Maybe he would be harder to break then you thought.

You began to work on him with more effort, using your mouth and hands wrapped around his length to send him close to the edge again.

“Please!” He begged as you took him as far back into your throat as you could, gagging a little each time it hit the back of your throat.

You pulled off him for a second to answer his plea, “You know what to say if you want to cum.”

His head flopped back at your words and a groan of frustration came out. You worked him up to the edge two more times- he still wouldn’t break even when you were goading him while sucking on his balls and stroking his cock.

You were absolutely soaked, your own arousal getting frustrating. Damn him and his stubbornness you thought. Fuck it- maybe he’d break when he was finally inside you.

In your anger you ripped the zipper of your flight suit as you tore it off of your own body. You weren’t looking forward to explaining why you needed a new one to Leia tomorrow. For now you were focused on getting rid of the ache between your thighs while punishing Poe further.

A collective groan came out of the two of you as you sunk down on his cock slowly. You were so wet from just the anticipation that you could have taken him perhaps a bit faster, but the wrecked look on his face was even better. You relished in his desperation as you began to create a steady pace, still not as fast as he probably wanted you to go. He did follow at least one of your rules, keeping his hands fisted in his sheets. It made his knuckles lighten from how hard he was gripping them, showing how desperate he was to not let you win.

He was nearing his breaking point, you were sure of that. His whimpers had gotten even higher pitched when you started to swivel your hips in a certain way. Tears were also prickling at the corners of his eyes almost spilling down his tanned cheeks that were slick with sweat. He still had some fight in him though apparently, he was resilient as steel.

“Go faster- Kid.” Oh- he definitely knew what he was doing. He stoked your anger on purpose, finding it funny that you got so riled up over a simple nickname.

In your anger your hand then wrapped around his throat and with each bounce you spoke to punctuate your point, “Don’t.” “Call.” “Me.” “Kid.”

His legs were shaking hard underneath you, thoroughly overwhelmed by your all encompassing touch. You had complete control over him and his finish. His mouth opened and closed a few times, like he was trying to finally apologize but couldn’t get the words out. Deciding to tease him further and test his limits a bit by saying, “Are you finally going to apologize?”

There was a slight pause in conversation while you continued to keep your pace going, waiting patiently for a response. Your own orgasm was beginning to rise within you. You could finish now, torturing him even further by feeling you spasm around him in pleasure, but you wanted to finish together if possible so you tried to be as patient as possible. Just when you were about to prompt him again he finally found the words you had been looking for.

“Yes! I- I won’t callll you kid again, I’m sorry!” The apology that you had been waiting for was so broken that it took you a second for you to understand what he had said. Your hips slowed their movements for a moment to then lean forward while tightening the hold you had on his neck slighting. You dragged your tongue from the bottom of his neck to the bottom of his ear before then whispering into his ear, “Thank you, you can cum now- and touch me.”

You clenched around him when his hands gripped your hips hard, using them as leverage to begin to thrust into you hard. Your own orgasm washed over you when after the last few thrusts he rubbed your clit before filling you.

After you had both rode out your releases you slumped forward onto Poe, trying to catch your breath. His fingers moved to slowly trace up your spine, which helped relax you.

“Hopefully I won’t have to teach you a lesson about what nicknames you can use on me again.” You breathed out with a chuckle, moving your own hand to trace his skin.

“I don’t know- I kinda liked the lesson you taught me.” A cheeky smirk was most definitely on his face as he said those words, which made you lightly tap his shoulder.

You clenched around his softening cock that was still inside you as retaliation, causing him to groan. You started to roll your hips at a languid pace, just so you could hear his whimpers again, this time from being still slightly sensitive from his first release. His cock was becoming hard inside you again, almost ready to go for a second round, “Do I need to teach you another lesson?”

You did have to admit though that the nickname was growing on you, not that you were going to tell Poe that anytime soon.

Ask Me Anything

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Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith (I will keep trying to fix this 😡). New tag lists (no one has asked to be on these yet)

Oscar Isaac Characters: Poe Dameron/SW:

[sugrbugz]

their reaction to you coming out as trans!! : BOKUTO, KENMA, AKAASHI, OIKAWA, TSUKKI, & ASAHI ♥︎

CW: this covers topics such as gender dysphoria, transphobia, and ignorant parents. please be safe my loves!!

transphobes get the fuck outta here right now

also i’m ftm myself so i’m writing from my own experience! if you want a non binary one or even mtf let me know! ♥︎

BOKUTO

would be so very excited to go clothing shopping with you but also giving you all of his hoodies in the mean time-

would love to show you off as his official boyfriend, would fight transphobic people for you

“hey bo, can we talk?” you asked softly, only causing him to open his arms wide from where he was sitting on your bed. you crawled into his lap like you always did, your hands shaking a bit when your wrapped your arms around his neck. “what’s up little owl!” he smiled wide, flashing you that beautiful smile of his. “it’s sorta serious love..” you mumbled making his smile fall only a bit, it falling completely when you started crying. “lovebug? what’s wrong..you can talk to me baby” he soothed making you nod. “i know we’ve talked about your preferences before and i don’t know where i fall but-“ you hiccuped, trying to figure out how to say it. “i’m transgender..i want to be a boy” you sobbed out, ultimately terrified he’d leave even though you knew he wouldn’t. “no..” he started making you cry only harder, not even three seconds later were calloused fingers there to wipe them, “you are a boy..not want, right baby?” he smiled softly, kissing your nose.

KENMA

his emotions would hurt him first only because he wouldn’t fully understand why you’re so upset

best hair stylist in the game!! he’d do your hair so you don’t have to deal with judgemental old ladies and weird barbers.

would 100000000/10 drop anything hes doing to snuggle you since he knows how much of a bitch dysphoria can be

it actually happened by accident. currently you were in the bathroom, shaky hands on a pair of scissors you’d found in the kitchen. it was one of those moments. you weren’t officially out to anybody, not even your boyfriend just simply out of fear of being disliked. however when kenma came to use the bathroom after doing a five hour livestream her heart almost shattered right then and there. you were too into your head to even notice his presence, snapping back to reality when he took the scissors from you. that’s when the tears started. he was quickly to pull you close, kissing your head. “i think i understand..but if i don’t, please explain..” he whispered softly into your ear. “i-i..” you stuttered, you didn’t even know how to say it. “i’ve been dealing with my gender for awhile and came to the conclusion that im a boy..” you sniff, snuggling into his chest since the comfort felt good. “okay baby, you’re still mine okay?” he spoke so soft it was reassuring. “but come to me instead of butchering your hair, you know damn well i could cut it better. dork.” he winked sitting you down to actually cut your hair properly.

AKAASHI

wasn’t totally surprised even though he is oblivious to most things

he would be so sweet about it??????? he wouldn’t even question you???? just accepting right away

after you were ready to come out? god he would be so overbearing with how supportive he was. “hey have you seen my BOYFRIEND?” or “are you doing okay, pretty boy?” he would do it all the time

he already knew. you’d asked him to pack your laptop in your book bag since you guys were going to study at the library. he usually didn’t snoop and honestly minded his business, but when he saw what he thought was a dildo his curiosity was peaked. you had millions of tabs open, all pertaining to the concept of gender identity. his heart softened sadly, upset by the fact you did this all alone. you came up to check what was taking him so long, face dropping when you saw what was open, “i-i promise i can explain-!” you rush forward but he quickly wraps two arms around you, kissing you softly. “shush. you don’t need to explain.” he smiled, “your preferred name and pronouns my darling?” he hummed in addition, grinning from the blush on your cheeks. “uhm..y/n..and he/him..please..” you whisper making him nod, “i’ve got the cutest boyfriend every yanno that?”

OIKAWA

would make fun of you for a bit until he realized this was actually serious

he would also apologize profusely for doing so.

would go out and buy you 67963334 slacks just to see you in them i know it

“tooru i’m serious!” you’d whimper, genuine tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. that’s when he knew he took it too far. “hey..i was just joking around…does me calling you girlie actually make you uncomfortable? why?” he was confused but then again you couldn’t blame them. you’d told iwa you were trans, hoping to get someway to tell oikawa but there wasn’t much acknowledgment of him at all. “yes..it does” you nodded wiping your eyes. “is it because you’re trans?” all the air in your lungs was knocked out of you at this. “how did you..” you’d ask softly, “i dunno! i’m just really good at this!” he giggled before kissing your head and getting off the couch you two were on. “one minute!” he ran upstairs and about five minutes later came back with all his old clothes he outgrew. “here! ‘ma saved them for donating to relatives but your more important” he hummed making you blush, “tooru you don’t-“ “and what’s your pants size?” “uh-i-“ “it’s okay doesn’t matter we’ll get all of them.” “ALL OF WHAT.” and that’s honestly how the rest of your night went.

TSUKKI

he wasn’t totally surprised but then again he knew how your parents were and would understand your hesitation for coming out

it didn’t really phase him at all. have you seen his gender nonconforming best friend? tsukki wouldn’t care unless you were authentically yourself.

would always give you reassurance, no matter how much you needed.

you’d come to your boyfriends house for the third night this week, his mom more than happy to let you stay. “he’s upstairs!” she’d smile from where she was making dinner. you already knew where to find his room, so coming inside and throwing your bags down casually wasn’t an issue at all. “y/n how many times do i have to tell your messy ass that you don’t put bags in the middle of the-“ he spun in his desk chair to look at you, his face falling the second he saw your face go red and tears streaming down your face. tsukki fucking SUCKED with emotions but he wouldn’t be pathetic and not try. “cmere moonie, what’s wrong” he frowned getting up and sitting on the bed, pulling you down with him. “i told them” you stated simply, his own anxiety kicked in. “and?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “they kicked me out.” you nodded towards the fourish bags you had dropped. “well..fuck them. here you’ll be loved and respected. they don’t deserve you. no one does. now, ill ask mom if we can move in the old dresser from akiterus room..you make yourself comfy. change, take of makeup, whatever it is. here? you’re allowed to be who you are.” and with that he was gone. tsukki may look like an asshole but he tries his best not to be for you.

ASAHI

wouldn’t initially get it, but it would take some explaining and he’d be absolutely on board

would probably smoother you in love and affection for being brave enough to tell him how you’ve been feeling

similar to akaashi he’d be quick to correct those who use incorrect pronouns (unless you tell him not too) while expressing love for his boyfriend

dating asahi had plenty of benefits, most importantly his ability to scare those off who were rude to you. you had come out to him a week ago, he needed some help understanding the process but soon he was very on board and understanding. now you two were eating lunch with noya and tanaka, watching a group of girls who ever now and then looked back at you to laugh and point. you’d just gotten your gender affirming hair cut the night before. you began to feel very self conscious about everything, just slowly tucking yourself into asahi who immediately realized something was wrong. “what’s up babe?” he asked watching you nod towards the group. with that he gently passed you over to noya who was very excited for the hugs he was allowed to give his close friend. needless to say asahi scared the living hell out of those girls. when all was said and done, he took you to the boys bathroom and locked the door. he simply hugged you, rubbing your back while you almost immediately cried. “it’s okay bunny..i’m sorry people can’t mind their own business-not that it’s my fault-i dunno why i apologized-sorry-i-“ he took a deep breath but his nervous rambling had made you giggle. “thank you, you giant teddy bear” you smiled leaning up to give him a nice soft kiss.