#(not what I mean but I can guarantee that he's gonna take it that way)

[unproduciblesmackdown]

like hearing an autistic person talking abt realizing like "oh so friendships for some ppl don't involve always having to maintain a performance" and going damn right yeah and now "oh so friendships for some ppl involve their getting to expect that the other ppl will be interested in them and provide support" like huh go figure. more surprising like oh right i guess i always felt like interactions require maintaining a performance that can only go wrong (generally true; like there's no "well you're ruining things by keeping ppl from being the Real You so just Be Yourself" like a] masking isn't Real or done by Yourself or b] like if you unmask people like you now & ableism is over, b/c it was your fault for reacting to it in the first place) & thus also that i should be interested & provide support but not expect that in turn / the sense as well that you are/can only come up short and have things to make up for anyways while lucky whoever's even providing the time of day

then it's always an Exercise to go "oh right well beyond going [my god autistic character] the whole time, what Things re: winston billions was i still not quite seeing as as unusual / Not Good as they are. even for billions" like sure noticing he's holding on to the hopes of some kind of positive / actual relationship w/rian for like year 950 & this manifesting with the Determined Friendliness but zooming in like oh i guess that adamant amicability sure involves winston suppressing a negative reaction to negative treatment and yet still hoping for an improvement, which like, was always Possible but a) hinged on rian simply choosing to change how she regards/treats him (or someone intervening to change the situation) & b) apparently is not going to happen. thinking like yeah that's very Friendly of him. and knowing like man winston's sure still trying to keep this friendliness offer open for like two years. but also now more specifically going like Yeah and pretty fucked then that his baseline expectations don't include that Mutual Interest & Support (though someone being abusive is definitely interested just not in any good ways. and certainly not (actually) supportive)

#and then in immediate retrospect it's like I Mean I Knew It & even now to be saying it feels like i've effectively already said it #just more precise/specific Language available. & where even if it's like [restating this one idea] that's gonna say smthing new / a bit dif #winston billions #from the [immediately going HM HUH first time seeing his clips but taking months to be like He's Autistic(tm) Btw IMO] to now struggling to #say another Ay Word in discussing [he has a devoted workplace bully] as Abuse(tm) when plenty of what's abusive is considered ''normal'' or #correct or even Ideal while defining Abuse as xtreme outliers due to evil intentions & extraordinary situations (that you should avoid) #it's power structures & efforts to control & use/refuse people as things....plenty of ppl who can feel they're just acting Normal & Natural #while other ppl in entire groups Do have to perform which can only go wrong & be hurt / get that everyday trauma from their Normalcy. #those allistic social skills huh (again tldr invoking this concept just Is ableism....) #after a casual twenty plus years w/the gradual convergence of [figuring out i'm autistic] & [not blaming myself for being mistreated b/c #i'm autistic] does put a damper on expectations re: all interactions but it's like the way someone put it the other day #who hasn't said anything abt being autistic but that they don't think anyone's guaranteed any kinds of relationships/companionship incl #friendships (which i agree with; & it's not at all uncommon for ppl to be hard up for those out here. despite ppl treating socializing like #a meritocracy like hmm anyone doesn't have friends? sounds like that's on you not getting good / deserving that) & so he consciously #navigates how to like be genuinely satisfied w/a life that's just got him in it while being open to other ppl. thinking of how i've heard #abt Just That re: autistic ppl (but framed specifically re: dating; like might want a romantic relationship but ofc no one's guaranteed one #of those either (even if this too is definitely treated like in fact you Are guaranteed one & it is Again a meritocracy) And ofc there's #more barriers/hurdles for autistic ppl) & just going like yeah i've sure been always navigating that too while being open to ppl sure but #not feeling like i need that to change & sure asf not focusing on Putting Myself Out There lmao. i put myself out there by existing & by #saying things & by trying not to try to preemptively appease/appeal to anyone. seeing another quote today abt how they're nonverbal & this #results in being regarded as hostile like eugh been there enough; classic [putting myself out there] dramedy of terrors from back in the #day as a teen living on college figuratively sprinting around trying to figure it out; both the Autistacity & Abuse lol. & racking up more #of the latter for the former while i'm at it....nowadays like. certainly recent successes in [spontaneous alignments of being friends] had #to start w/like weeks into months of i'm not expecting someone else to have interest & in fact Am expecting; if nothing else; them to #realize w/e interest motivates them to talk w/me to be mistaken or w/e. as i'm struggling not to mask / beating back efforts to actively #appeal to anyone. being duly surprised when after months they still feel like talking to me. & even then just kind of entering another #phase of ''well but still'' lol like when interactions have largely felt like Buying Time at best #def on the same page as that guy like even [have friends] is not a Need. when i could go ''time to recharge socially'' & make it happen #what i like to do is go be in public '''''by myself'''' around ppl. truly the good shit. doing that kind of shit w/ppl has = nth wheeling. #now insert a short essay spinning off all this abt an approach to Language parallel to [concepts re Socializing] as tag thirty

[zarafey]

So on a scale of 1 to 10 how bad is it that I don't wanna tell my boyfriend that I'm probably aromantic as well and also on another note how bad is it to be in a relationship where your partner says that they aren't gonna be satisfied forever with not having sex but they don't wanna break up over "just that"????

#I am for real so confused and shit #Like... Yes I love him but it's not a different feeling from the love I have for my family or my friends #And now the relationship kind of feels like I'm standing on a sinking ship not wanting to run to the lifeboat #At this point I know I'm gonna get my heart somewhat broken but i just wanna pretend a little longer #And if the relationship is doomed either way why should I break his heart even more by saying I was never in love with him #(not what I mean but I can guarantee that he's gonna take it that way) #I'm just writing down my thought. Don't mind me

[obscurevideogames]

Tumblr’s Core Prodct Stratgy

Here at Tumblr, we’ve been working hard on trying to keep our sinking ship afloat for as long as possible. This means desperately trying to copy every new fly-by-night social media app that some multi-billionaire sh*t out during their daily Peloton routine. What follows is the strategy we're using to accomplish the goal of user growth. If you find the things we say here worrisome, please understand that is our exact intention. You've outgrown our target demographic. Don't let the door hit you on the way out.

The Diagnosis

It's lookin' pretty bad y'all!

After somehow losing hundreds of thousands of users during the great pr0n purge of 2018, we started to wonder if anything could be done to get back to where we were. We even brought in a management consultant who charged us a ridiculous amount of money. It would make you sick if you knew how much, but we got a few nice meals out of it at least. Anyhow, we handed this guy the app, and HE HAD NO IDEA HOW TO USE IT! It was f*cking hilarious! But suddenly it all clicked -- our users are a bunch of stupid idiots who can't even do basic arithmetic. I mean, they spend all day looking at their phones, so what do you expect?

Tumblr’s best feature is its unique content and vibrant communities. But who cares, right? We're just as happy getting traffic from people sh*t-posting memes, vague-booking, giving out-of-context hot takes to news events, and spewing whatever random thought is in their head at the moment. Plus that stuff doesn't p*ss off Apple.

To keep this thing going we need new people. And by "people" we mean teenagers, like we used to have back in the good ol' days. Unfortunately we're all in our 40s now, so we have no idea what they want. But teenagers are so cool! Imagine if they talked to us like we're one of them? We're getting hard just thinking about it.

Our Guidng Principls

To make Tumblr cool again, we must address these huge glaring issues.

People can look at a blog without logging in. How is that fair to all the poor schlubs who had to fill out forms to get an account? Also we haven't figured out a way to force ads onto the personalized pages yet. But we swear that's not the main reason.

People can see content they are looking for or linked to. People can keep up with blogs they follow. But the problem with this is, people don't know what they want. We know what they want! We're smart. We wrote this damn site, remember?

Promote posts that incite pointless conversations. Posts that are guaranteed to bait every troll into responding. Isn't that why all your Magat relatives love Facebook so much? We can do that!

P*ss off your content creators in every way possible (see #2).

Create algorithms that throw an unending barrage of irrelevant content in your face. Have you seen Instagram lately? We could do that so easy!!!

The app is slow. The website is slow. Obviously this is because of GIFs. Facebook and Instagram don't allow them, so why should we?

Conclusion

Our mission changes on a day-to-day basis. Right now we're super jealous of all the attention that new Threads thing is getting. We're still not sure what it is, but we're gonna download it after work.

#obscurevideogames

[hoekyeom]

bruises | k.mg

street fighter bf!mingyu x afab!reader

established relationship, porn with some plot, minghao cameo cuz i love him, mentions of injury and blood, fighting, make up sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, one joke of mingyu being a masochist, one mention of death, creampie, oral (m receiving), skull fucking, daddy kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, recording, cum swallowing, cum eating, praise, muscle and size kink if you squint but that’s guaranteed in a mingyu fic 😭😭

summary: you and mingyu get into a fight over his bad habits, angst and smut ensues

wc: 2.7k

you’ve always hated the fights mingyu got himself into. he’d come home almost every week, with cuts and bruises littered all over his body. this time wasn’t any different, it was past midnight by this point, and you were curled up on the couch watching a random movie in an attempt to distract yourself from your growing worries. mingyu is usually home by this point.

a few more minutes go by and mingyu stumbles through the door with more injuries than usual. he sets his key down as you frantically walk towards him, noticing the way be avoids your eyes, “gyu.. your face, your bleeding everywhere.” he gives you a cold stare, his face battered and bloodied, and he brushes past you, going towards the bathroom where your med-kit usually was.

“yeah that’s the whole point y/n, it’s called street fighting for a reason.” you knew he wasn’t actually mad at you, just pent up anger from years of fighting, and especially tonight. scanning his whole body, the bright bathroom lighting allowing for you to see all his cuts and wounds more closely.

he slipped off his shirt, a huge bruise starting to form on the left side of his torso. “..you sure you didn’t break something?” your hand coming up to lightly stroke his ribs, mingyu’s anger blinding him from leaning into your warm touch.

“no, and why do you care so much anyway? it’s not like this is the first time.”

you tipped your head to the side, a ‘what’s that smell’ expression laid on your face, “what kind of question is that? i care because you’re my boyfriend, of course i’m gonna be worried.” your voice was nothing short of angry, your eyebrows almost meeting in the middle due to your frustration.

“you shouldn’t be.”

“uhh? yes i should, i’m tired of seeing you walk in here everyday with new cuts to clean. and your ribs.. mingyu you need to go see a doctor.”

“look y/n, i’ve been doing this for years—“

“well i think you should stop.”

it was deathly quiet, and mingyu’s hand holding a cotton pad paused in the air as he stared at you through the mirror. only the whirring sound of your ac being heard to combat the july heat. mingyu looked at you for a bit, chuckling to himself as his tongue poked through the side of his cheek, grabbing the gauze out of the med-kit and wrapping it around his knuckles.

“what’s so fucking funny?”

“oh nothing just that fact that you think you can tell me what to do.”

“yeah i’ll you what to do if it means not having you die in some alleyway.”

“please y/n, it never goes that far.”

“look at yourself! you basically limped in here, and i tried to help you but now you act like i’m a bitch for being worried about you?” you yelled.

mingyu finished up the gauze as he dropped everything and grabbed his shirt, walking towards the door. he left with a slam, not even caring to bid you goodbye, or kiss you and say ‘i love you’ like he always does.

the post-anger tears started streaming down your face. you knew he was probably gonna go crash at minghao’s, yet even with how frustrated you were, you still couldn’t help but worry and think about mingyu going to sleep untreated.

-

9:02 PM

(5) missed calls

gyu?

mingyu im sorry

are you okay? did minghao get you painkillers?

please dont fight again, at least take some time to let ur body rest :((

a full day had gone by. guilt stirred in mingyu’s stomach as he stared at his phone screen. he was the one who should be apologizing, not you.

he sighed, shutting off his phone and getting up. he knew he had to face you at some point.

“you leaving?”

mingyu hummed, shuffling into his shoes and heading out the door as minghao yelled out a goodbye. mingyu hopped in his car, letting the silence engulf him.

when mingyu walked into the apartment he noticed how dim it was, assuming you were asleep. he took his shoes off as quietly as possible, making his way to your guys’ shared bedroom. he heard a muffled voice, noting that the door was only half closed, peeking into the crack.

he saw you, adorned in one of his hoodies that was much too big for you, sleeves bunched up at your wrists and the hem coming down to your mid-thigh, naked legs on full display.

you paced around the room and it looked like you were on the phone with someone, the voice being hard to identify.

“did he say anything to you when he left?”

“nah, he just walked out.”

oh. it was minghao.

“shit, um, he didn’t even mention where he was going?”

mingyu heard the panic in your voice and the way your forefinger and thumb came to rub at your temples. he walked in as your eyes shot up to look at him, not hesitating to hang up on minghao, throwing your phone on the bed and running to jump into mingyu’s arms.

“oh my god mingyu!” you looked up at him and immediately started hitting him, “stupid! stupid! stupid! i hate you!” each hit enunciating your words, feeling like nothing but weak taps to mingyu. tears spilled out of your eyes, as mingyu only hugged you closer, hand coming up to pet your hair as the other cradled your head into his chest. he heard your muffled sniffing, his heart breaking at the stress he caused you.

“shhh i know, i know i’m stupid. i’m sorry baby.”

“you’re so mean! why didn’t you at least text me back? do you know how scared i was?” your voice broke, looking up at him with swollen eyes.

“i ..” mingyu paused, his hands coming down to hold your face, “i know i fucked up, i was too embarrassed to face you, afraid that you’d end things with me, which i would’ve probably deserved. i’m so, so sorry angel, i know no amount of apologizing will take away your worries, and i know i should’ve stayed and talked things out with you”

his thumb came to wipe away your falling tear, your hands hooking around his neck and pulling him down to kiss you. he instantly reciprocated, hands traveling down to wrap around your waist, pulling you close so that your bodies were flush against each other.

“i forgive you, i’m sorry for raising my voice at you.” you mumbled into his mouth, mingyu backing away to confusedly look at you.

“why are you apologizing? don’t say sorry baby, you should’ve slapped me as soon as i walked through that door.”

you giggled, looking down as you felt something press into your stomach, “you’re hard? really? got hard at the thought of me slapping you?” you teased.

“loooook..” mingyu looked away bashfully, his hand scratching the back of his neck.

“ew, you’re such a weirdo.” you said, slipping off mingyu’s hoodie to reveal a white tank top, your hard nipples poking through the thin fabric. you dropped down to your knees, fingers going straight to work untying your boyfriend’s sweatpants and pulling them down, along with his boxers, to his knees.

“oh, shit, hold on— you don’t have to do that baby.” mingyu hooked his hands underneath your armpits, attempting to pull you up being cut off by you stroking him.

“please, i want to.”

mingyu hesitated but was soon slapping his tip against your cheek, cooing at the way your head followed to try and get it in your mouth. finally he put it where you wanted, circling your tongue around the sensitive head. mingyu’s head lulled back, letting out a groan.

you took all of him into your mouth at once, his tip consistently hitting your uvula as you bobbed your head, twisting your hand on the base of his cock.

“fuck juuust like that baby, shit, h-have you been practicing on other guys or something?”

you laughed, only causing you to choke on his length, hitting his thigh as punishment for making you laugh while doing something that literally constricts your airflow.

“okay, okay, no more jokes, got it.” mingyu snickered, his gauzed hand grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

you came off of him with a pop, wiping off the drool dripping down your chin with the back of your hand, “gyu, u-use my mouth.”

mingyu smiled smugly, wordlessly grabbing ahold of your head with his other hand before shallowly thrusting into your wet mouth.

it wasn’t long before his length was ramming into your throat, breathless fuck’s and just like that’s leaving his cut lips. he was scared to even look down, afraid that if he saw your fucked out face he’d cum too quick.

you’re eyes looked up at him, tendrils of hair slipping past mingyu’s hold due to the sheer speed at which his hips slammed into your mouth.

“christ y/n, you look s’pretty like this, gon’ let daddy take a picture?”

you moaned at the label he placed on himself, nodding around his cock, eyes never leaving his sweat and scab covered face. mingyu pulled out his phone, angling the camera at your face. a red box with white numbers ascending appearing at the top of his screen.

“it’s a video baby, you don’t mind do you?” mingyu laughed when you attempted to hum a nuh-uh, only a string of muffled gags being heard. you were so wet, clit aching to be touched. you inched your hand down to touch yourself, drawing quick, fast circles.

“of course you don’t, so perfect, take my dick so well”

mingyu realized what it was you were doing to your lower half, “y’touching yourself? don’t worry daddy will fill y’up nice and good after this, j-jus’ let me cum in your mouth pretty.”

with a few final thrusts, and the erratic spasming of mingyu’s hips, you felt his hot cum travel down your throat, hollowing your cheeks as you slurped every last drop.

your knees ached as mingyu pulled you up, ending the video and hastily putting it in his hidden folder. he pulled you into a kiss, “did so good f’me baby, you always know how to spoil me.” he spoke into your mouth, tasting his own release.

“w-wanna ride you,” you huffed out, breathless. mingyu grinned, the right side of his face being the only indication of it, while the left was so mangled you couldn’t tell what expression he was even making. whoever he fought got him good.

“you sure? don’t tire yourself doll.”

“i’m sure!” you said grabbing mingyu’s hand, dragging him to the bed.

“whatever you say cutie,” mingyu let out a strangled breath while lowering himself down onto the bed, his torso still extremely sore, and his head perched up against the headboard. you quickly pulled down your shorts and panties as you swung your leg over his thighs, leaning down to kiss him.

you hand raked over his chest and chiseled abs, fingers dipping into each and every crevice as mingyu’s tongue explored your mouth. you pulled back and grabbed a hold of his flushed cock, rubbing it along your folds as your slick dripped down his length, a whimper leaving your lips.

“shit.” he hissed, staring intently as you paused your ministrations to line yourself up, slowly sinking down. you stared down at where you were taking him in, brushing the hair out of your face to get a better look. mingyu’s mouth fell agape, “you’re so fucking tight,” watching as a bulge slowly formed just below your belly button. even after the countless times you and mingyu had had sex, he was always just so big, your tiny pussy barely taking him in each time.

you finally looked up, mingyu’s eyes meeting your own. “jus’ gimme a sec gyu, you’re s-so big,” you said breathlessly.

mingyu smirked cockily, “take your time gorgeous.” his hands soothingly rubbing you’re plush thighs.

you bounced slowly, feeling each vein of his cock drag against your walls, tiny gasps leaving your lips. mingyu let you control the pace for a bit, allowing for you to adjust to his size. but he was getting impatient, his hands coming down to grip the sides of your hips, his four digits digging themselves into your ass before lifting you up and slamming you back down, the movement knocking the wind of you, making your jaw go slack.

“fuck!” your head hung low, hands coming up to grip his broad, muscly shoulders for support, watching out for any bruises.

“that’s it baby, just hold onto daddy and let him make y’feel good.”

mingyu’s pace was animalistic, his hold on you hard enough to leave an imprint. you were shocked as to how he had this much energy considering what his body had endured a night ago.

tears welled up in your eyes, feeling his tip kiss your cervix with each thrust. the curve of his cock aligning just right with your g-spot. “oh my fff-fucking god! mingyu please, ha-harder!”

you didn’t even know if it was possible to go harder, but mingyu managed to slam you down with even more force then before. a bead of sweat ran down his tan neck, his bangs sticking to his forehead as he stared up at you with hooded eye. his hips thrust upwards to meet you halfway, causing you to let out mangled gasps and moans. you were sure he was puncturing your lungs by this point. no inch of your pussy was left unexplored, squishy pink walls molded perfectly to hug his cock.

“jus’ like that gorgeous, your pussy was made f’me.”

“s-soo deep daddy, feel you in my tummy..” you whined out as you saw mingyu grin, canines on display, his hand coming up to grab yours, placing your hand on the bulge on your stomach, almost cumming right there when you felt the bump.

“fuck, you jus’ got so tight, y-you like when daddy pokes your tummy like that?”

you nodded frantically, tears flowing down your hot, pink cheeks, “i-i’m gon—na cum, g-gonna cum!” you struggled to get the words out, mingyu understanding you nonetheless.

“cum with me baby, gon’ let daddy cum in you?”

“fuck, yes d-daddy, want you to fill me up so bad, p-put a .. a baby in me,” mingyu loved how dirty your mouth got every time you were close to coming. his right hand pressed onto the small of your back, causing you to arch into him. his mouth was at perfect level with your nipples, taking your tit into his mouth and circling the hard nub with his tongue.

the pleasure was all too much, and with a few more hard thrusts your hole was spasming around his thick base, clenching and unclenching, mingyu’s mouth detaching from your breast as he looked up at you, his eyes shutting tightly as hot cum shot into your pussy.

“shiiiit, you’re milking me baby.” mingyu said, still grinding your hips onto him as he rode out both of your orgasms.

you reluctantly lifted yourself off of him, feeling some of mingyu’s cum drip down your thigh, scooping it with your index and middle finger and licking it off as you cuddled into his side, his arm laid across your shoulder.

mingyu watched as you cleaned him off your fingers, smoothing your disheveled hair. “such a good girl, not letting any of daddy’s cum go to waste.” he said as he booped your nose.

you giggled, “you okay though, gyu? d-does it hurt anywhere?” you asked, still breathless from your fresh orgasm.

“don’t worry about me doll, are you feeling okay? did i go too hard?”

“mm-hm, just a lil’ sore,” you snuggled closer.

“a shower should help ease y’up,” mingyu swung his feet over the bed, getting up as he reached his hand out, “think you can walk?”

“nooo i need my big, strong boyfriend to help carry me,” you joked, climbing into mingyu’s arms as he threw you over his shoulder, landing a playful slap on your ass.

“asshole! i’m not helping you replace your bandages.” mingyu could hear the pout in your voice, laughing as he made his way to the bathroom.

@gyusinning | thank you for reading!

#svt smut #svt x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #mingyu x reader #mingyu x y/n #mingyu x you #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you

[charliemwrites]

Part 6 of SpecGru (former 141) reader; Simon’s perspective again.

Content: brief implication/mention of reader having idle suicidal ideation. In the way of “I don’t care if something happens to me” kind of way. Happens during a phone call between Price and reader’s new captain.

Please be careful and safe. If someone needs this part summarized, let me know. I love you all very much <3

Here’s the truth of it: Simon never meant for you to leave.

You were too close, that was true. He did everything short of actually hurting you to drive you away. Treated you like a plaything, took your kindness and patience and feelings for him for granted. Left you cold and alone in a hospital bed — unable to see you pale and half-dead all because you were so goddamn headstrong…

That had put it all in vicious perspective. That he couldn’t keep you safe; knowing him, following him, would surely end with you on a metal table rather than a clean hospital bed.

In hindsight, he knows it was as much for his own sake as yours, trying to force that emotional distance between you two. But he just… he can’t do it. Not again. Not you. You’d break him.

But he never meant for you to leave. Not really.

Maybe take an extended solo mission. Or just break off the romance of it all. Maybe you’d stay away for a while, give him time to sort out his feelings and shove the useless ones back into the pit they belong in.

He didn’t expect you to be gone as soon as you could stand.

“You said yourself, Simon, she’s too young and reckless. The 141 can’t afford to babysit her,” Price explained.

“She nearly got you killed, LT,” Soap pointed out. That was before he found out that you were gone for good, not just on disciplinary leave.

And when he did…

“No. No, she dinnae…” he wiped a hand down his face, eyes going a bit glassy. “Why? Why would she… didn’t we mean anythin’ to her? I know we were all a bit on the rocks but ‘s just cos she gave us a scare…”

Gaz took it the hardest, showing up most morning with red-rimmed, puffy eyes. He tried texting you a hundred times; they never went through.

He and Soap begged Price to reconsider, saying that he had no right to kick you out without consulting the rest of the squad.

“I just told her that she should consider transfer,” Price corrected, steely.

“Same fuckin’ thing, ain’t it?” Soap raged. “What else ‘s she gonna do when it’s her captain sayin’ it?”

And Price had finally crumbled, his stubbornness giving way to a clearer head and regret in the aftermath. Simon knew how he felt; had been haunted with the same gut-wrenching feeling for two weeks by that point.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have…” he wiped a hand down his face. “I’ll call Laswell, see if she can put us through.”

As it turned out, your new team had deployed you almost immediately. You were gone, relying on teammates you barely knew, and there was no guarantee when (or even if) you’d be reachable again.

When Laswell put Price through to your new captain instead, he scoffed down the line.

“That how the great John Price sends off his own?” He gruffed.

“I take care of my own,” Price replied, narrow-eyed.

“That’s explains it then, doesn’t it?” A shifting on the other end. “Well, she’s one of mine now, at least; better off that way I think.”

He was on speaker phone with the SpecGru captain. Shouldn’t have been, but it wasn’t a confidential call. So the rest of the 141 was there, vibrating with the effort to stay quiet.

Simon balled his hands into fists, arms crossed. He didn’t trust anyone with one of theirs. No, you belonged right there with the rest of the 141. They could keep you safe, keep you alive.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Price growled.

“Let me just ask you this, Price. And only because I need to know how to take care of her.” A pause, shuffling of papers. Something heavy and almost… hesitant in the silence before- “Did she always have this DNR order?”

Price’s office turned to ice. Simon’s entire shuddered, cored out. The arm of the chair Soap was occupying cracked. Gaz’s hand was covering his mouth, blood draining from his face.

“No,” Price answered, voice little more than rust.

A grunt on the other end.

“Thanks for the insight,” your new captain replied, sounding nonplussed. “At least you were good for something.”

The line droned, dead.

—

You’re standing with the rest of SpecGru, beaming like each and every one of them hung a star just for you. They orbit like you’re the sun, even Nikto, holding you in his arms, letting you lean back against him.

(You used to look at Simon like that. Used to let him hug you like that on the occasion he was weak and gave into the temptation to hold you.)

Every time he looks at you, it’s like a stranger with your face all over again.

You hold your shoulders differently. Tilt your head different. Have a certain control over your facial features better than any mask Simon’s donned.

Today you’re dressed down from your tac uniform. Specifically, your long-sleeve thermal has been replaced by a sleeveless gym shirt. It reveals that tattoo he caught only a glimpse of before — a big, intricate thing from your shoulder down your wrist.

(He and Johnny were going to go with you for your first tattoo. You asked them for all sort of recommendations. Enjoyed tracing Simon’s sleeve when he let you.)

There are more scars too. Burns, bullet grazes, jagged knife marks and patches from bad scrapes.

Nova is finishing up the wrapping on your hand, the other already done. You’re listening to something Russ is spouting off about, whatever it is making you laugh loud enough to be heard where Simon is lurking.

“C’mon,” Johnny says, bumping shoulders with Simon. “Know we fucked up yesterday, but we can try again. Maybe letting her beat the shite out of us will help clear the air, aye?”

Simon forces himself to look away. He already knows you won’t be glancing over.

“Yeah,” he replies. “Maybe.”

#thoughts™️ #cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #sad fic #angst #former 141 reader #specgru reader #simon ghost riley

[bkgml]

hiii do u think u could write something where maybe bakugo has been stressed lately. never yells at his so, treats them so good but one night after a stressful day, he’s dreaming and his hands burn up a little while he’s holding their waist, and burns them and he doesn’t wake or anything and they try to hide it from him, he finds out and is like super upset at himself and is distant etc hehe :,-) i rlly like ur writing so i’d be excited if u got to write something like this or anything in general

omg omg this is such a great idea!

youre cooking dinner when you hear the front door swing open.

“hi, honey!” you call to him, ready to switch off the burner so you can give him a welcome home kiss.

in return, all you get is a sigh as he sits on the couch.

“katsuki?” you call as you turn the corner from the kitchen to the living room.

you see him, head in his hands and still in his hero suit.

you walk towards him and thread your fingers through his hair, pulling his head toward your stomach.

normally he’d wrap his arms around your waist and nuzzle into your stomach.

but today, he got news that he was being sent on a mission to canada for three months.

away from you.

away from his home.

away from everyone.

and if accepts it, it’s practically a guaranteed job offer to being the number one hero, his dream. though, it would put a large rift in your relationship as he wouldn’t be able to contact you in any way.

he stands from his spot on the couch.

“uh, i’m gonna shower. need to think for a minute.” he says, giving you a lifeless peck to your temple before he turns to leave.

you’d be upset, but he seems stressed. so instead you decide to throw pyjamas in the dryer for him so they’ll be warm once he’s out and start plating dinner.

you set the table before hearing the water shut off.

“ack!” you yelp, running to grab his pyjamas from the dryer.

“hey katsuki?” you call to him, knocking on the door.

you see his pretty face, ridden with stress as he opens the door.

“hm?” he asks lowly.

despite his worry, you still smile at his tired eyes and soft voice.

before you speak, you press a sweet kiss to his nose and watch his eyes flutter shut at the contact.

“brought you warm jammies.” you whisper, kissing his nose again.

he sighs against you before opening the door wider and bringing you into his arms.

“hi.” you whisper.

“mm.” he grunts, but you know he means ‘thank you, love you’.

you pull away after a minute.

“get dressed, dinners on the table.” you smile.

he nods and you head back into the kitchen.

the two of you eat dinner in silence while he thinks to himself.

“what’s on your mind?” you ask as the two of you wash the dishes.

he sets the final plate into the cupboard and clears his throat.

“just work.” he says.

“hmm. i’m sorry baby boy.” you coo, dragging your nails up his arms.

he groans, leaning back into you.

you hug him from behind, reaching your hand under his shirt and brushing against his abs soothingly.

“you gonna tell me specifically?” you ask softly.

he sighs and straightens up.

“not until i decide what to do.” he replies, turning in your arms.

you smile sadly and take him by the hand into your bedroom.

“sleep on it then?” you ask and he nods.

as the two of you get ready for bed in silence you wonder what has him so stressed out.

if he couldn’t save someone he would be more upset and he would’ve told you.

if there was a deadline coming up for his report of a scene he would’ve worked on it today.

if he was being sent on a mission he would be happy.

unless?

“come to bed.” katsuki’s call for you interrupts your thoughts and you shut the bathroom light off before climbing into bed with him.

you stroke his cheek affectionately.

“you sure i cant help with the decision?” you try one more time.

he grabs your palm off his cheek and presses a kiss to it.

“not this time, sweetness.” he replies.

you sigh but nod nonetheless before turning away from him.

he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close, pressing kisses to your shoulder.

“i love you, katsuki. i know you’ll make a good decision.” you smile, turning your head to him.

he smiles sadly in return and presses a kiss to your lips, the first of the night.

it continues for minutes as he conveys every emotion within him.

his stress.

his love.

his anger.

his sorrow.

and you take it all, drinking it in and calming the storm brewing in his mind.

“i love you more.” he says.

you grin sheepishly and press a final peck to his lips.

“get some rest, kay?” you smile and lay your head on his arm.

“alright.” he says back, arms tightening around you.

as the two of you sleep, your mind is calm, full of white noise of love and laughter. while katsuki’s mind is plagued with darkness, storms returning with fury as he fights to make the right decision.

katsuki’s ferocious dreams bleed into yours as you feel white hot pain on your torso.

you open your already tear filled eyes and see katsuki’s hands burning into your flesh the same way his dreams burned yours.

you swallow a cry, a shout, you wrangle yourself out of his arms and throw yourself onto the other end of the bed.

you see your katsuki, eyes still closed, brain still unconscious, as he burns himself now.

“katsuki! katsuki wake up, baby. you’re burning yourself!” you shriek.

“katsuki!”

his eyes snap open and his quirk deactivates immediately.

“fuck! i’m sorry.” he apologizes for scaring you.

“did you hurt yourself? let me see!” you cry, lifting his shirt seeing the minor burns on his skin.

“shit… i really liked this shirt.” he attempts to joke but you huff and glare at him.

jumping out of bed you grab his hand and start pulling him to the bathroom.

“i need to clean your wounds.” you mumble.

he follows and sees your charred shirt.

“did i hurt you??” he asks, worry laced in his tone.

“i’m fine, you just got my shirt.” you lie, turning on the bathroom light.

the two of you step in the bathroom.

“sit on the edge of the tub. where’s the first aid kit?” you say looking around the room.

he sits silently while keeping his eyes locked on your torso.

you open the cupboard under the sink and find what you’re looking for.

you walk towards katsuki while opening the first aid kit and ruffling through it while mumbling to yourself.

when you’re in arms reach his hands grab the back of your thighs.

your mumbling ceases and the bathroom goes quiet.

setting the first aid kit on the toilet you thread your fingers through his hair similarly to when he first came home tonight.

“did i burn you?” he whispers, restating his question.

“no, katsuki. i told you, it’s just my shirt. let’s get you clean-“ you’re forced to cut yourself off as he lifts your shirt and sees the nauseating burns on your torso.

his breath hitches and you look down to see tears falling from his eyes.

“it’s not your fault.” you rush to tell him.

his eyes look to yours.

those glossy, heart shattering eyes looking to you for guidance, for an answer.

“it’s not your fault.” you repeat.

he looks back at your burns before his eyes return to yours.

“i burned you.” he whispers, voice cracking.

“you were unconscious.” you whisper back, leaning down to press your forehead to his.

“it’s okay. it’s okay. it’s okay.” you repeat as your arms wrap around his head and his face finds the junction between your neck and shoulder.

his sobs begin to fill the bathroom and you hold him and repeat to him.

“it’s okay. it’s okay. it’s okay.”

ten minutes later he’s calm enough.

“you going to tell me what has you this worked up, now?” you ask.

“they want me to go on a no-contact mission for three months. in canada.” he whispers, numb from his crying.

you kiss his dried tears and he allows his eyes to fall shut.

“if it means you get that number one spot like you’ve always dreamed then we can get through it, katsuki.” you say.

“i’m not going.” he replies, snapping out of his numbed stare.

you blink at him.

“what do you mean? this is your dream and i’m going to support you every step of the way.” you smile.

“i’m not going.” he repeats as he grabs your hand and pulls you through the house.

you follow, confused.

“katsuki??”

“i’m taking your ass to the hospital.” he says, tightening his grip on your hand.

“we’re getting these burns treated.” he grabs his keys and opens the front door.

“i’m going to work ten times as hard.” he pulls you out the door and to his car.

“i’m going to be the number one hero.” he opens your car door and helps you sit.

“and i’m going to do it all right here. with you.” he confirms, grinning determinedly at you.

a bright smile takes over your face as you grab his cheeks and kiss him sweetly.

“i love you.” you whisper.

“i love you more and i’m sorry i burned you, baby girl. never again, okay?” he says, pecking your cheeks repeatedly.

you nod in affirmation and he closes your car door.

while he walks to his side, he takes in the fresh air for the first time since he felt the crushing weight of the rift between you and his work life.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x yn #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader

[tailsz]

Bungo Stray dogs Boyfriend headcannons!

NSFW INCLUDED‼️‼️

Includes: Atsuhi, Dazai, Kunikida, Ranpo, Akutagawa, Chuuya, Fydor, Sigma, Nikolai.

A/N: we are going to ignore the fact that i haven’t updated in a month…

ANYWAYS ILL SEE WHAT FANDOM IS NEXT 😝😝

—————————————————————————————————————

Atsuhi!🐯

Oh he was definitely panicking when he came to terms that he liked you😓

If you so much as grazed any of your body parts onto him he will actually die

AND NGL HE WOULD AVOID YOU??? you were left dumbfounded 😒

Dazai had to be the one spilling the tea that atsuhi likes you because atsuhi REFUSED to confess (Dazai thought teasing him would help. IT DID NOT HELP.)

Oh my god and when y’all start dating he’s even more on edge for like the first couple of weeks, it honestly concerned you

BUT ONCE HE CALMED DOWN

he is the whole package of ‘Perfect Boyfriend!’ 💐

he will literally break his BACK for you, he wants to make sure you’re happy for the rest of your life<3

So if you’re a fellow member of the ADA, he would like discreetly HINT to the others and the president that he wants to take as many missions w/ u as possible (it was BARELY discreet but it worked 😍‼️)

Y’all have matching PJ’S 😋( it’s a white and orange tiger onesies 🤭)

he made you one of those friendship bracelets with each-others initials (he has yours, and you have his<:)

The first time he tried to make you breakfast in bed, he dropped it all on you and the bed ☠️

(HE IS SO CLUMSY LIKE DUDE???)

he always comes to you when he feels one of his PTSD attacks coming

(you cuddle him for like 1-2 hours)

you can never guarantee your safety anywhere, but with you, he feel safe 24/7 <3

HE ABSOLUTELY LOVES BINGING SAPPY ROMANCE SHOWS WITH U. ESPECIALLY LOVE TRIANGLES

Y’all always fighting with who the main girl is gonna end 😒 HE IS MOSTLY ALWAYS RIGHT TOO

y’all split paper work up! WHICH MAKES YALL SUPER PRODUCTIVE (y’all come in second to kunikida that man does NOT play 😓)

he loves holding your wrist insted of ur hand when walking (he’s autistic idk man)

NSFW!!

Oh boy he is a submissive top😓

Like he’s always trying to pleasure you sexually or not

BUT WHAT GETS HIM HELLA TURNED ON.

is when you dominated him and order him around while he’s doing so 👏

i want to say he’s pretty vanilla BUT HE IS NOT AGAINST USING TOYS.

this one time you convinced him to wear a toy in public 🤭

it actually gave him a heart attack when anyone would talk to him bc you would turn it out and let me tell u rn. HE IS LOUD.

while nobody else noticed.. DAZAI DID .N HE NEVER LET HIM LIVE IT DOWN.

dazai always brings THAT up when atsuhi refuses to do his paperwork 😓

he likes it when you sit on his face 🤭 he doesn’t need oxygen wdym

HE LOVES REVERSE COWGIRL

MY GOD DOES HE LOVE THIGH HIGHS‼️‼️

god the moment he sees you wearing them he’s BEGGING you to let him touch n taste you 🗣️

HE LEAVES SO MANY BITE MARKS ON YOUR THIGHS 🙏🙏🙏

he is absolutely into overstimulation

he TRIES to hide his kinks but like. HE IS SUCH A CLUTS AND A BAD LIAR 🔥

his aftercare is the best ! he brings u some sweets, cleans u up, and puts on a trashy movie to watch !

HE IS A THIGH MAN ‼️

—————————————————————————————————————

DAZAI‼️❤️‍🩹

oh jesus christ okay um.

for you to enter a relationship with osamu in his ADA era. YOU WOULDVE TO HAVE KNOWN HIS SINCE HIS DARK ERA.

We all know osamu is. a womanizer so THATS PART OF THE REASON

the main reason is because you 2 are traumatized teenagers who found comfort in eachother 😓

but anyways he asked u out in the most . RANDOM-EST WAYS EVER??

HE ASKED U OUT WHEN YALL GOT INTO THE ADA 😓

he asked u out in morse code. U WERE SCARED AT FIRST BC YOU THOUGHT YALL WE’RE BEING FOLLOWED (he grabbed ur hand and squeezed out morse code to clarify)

so u asked him to repeat it again and

you just stopped walking, and in morse code asked if he was being serious HE WAS‼️‼️

honestly. YALL ARE THAT COUPLE THAT CHECK PPL OUT?? YK WHAT I MEAN

like y’all could be walking and this fine ass man walks past y’all AND YOU BOTH TURN YOUR NECK TO LOOK

YALL GET SO SILLY WHEN YOU DO

a couple should never shame the fact that people are hot 😓

ERM U GOT HIM INTO SKIN CARE

well actually he just likes it bc he makes u do it for him 😒

U GUYS PLAY FIGHT A LOT , AS IN INSULTS NOT PHYSICALLY (y’all have to calm down the office bc they think y’all r being fr 😓)

oh em gee , date nights for y’all is just. Buying like 2 bottles of whiskey or vodka and drink it ALLL in your shared apartment ‼️

U CANNOT KEEP A SECRET FROM HIM ITS SO ANNOYING

u TRIED to make him a surprise birthday party BUT NOOOOO (asshole smh 😒)

after a certain point, he lets u help him change his bandages <3 for once in his life, he can put trust in someone like this :D

… YALL LISTEN TO THE WEEKEND RELIGIOUSLY ‼️‼️‼️‼️

NSFW!!

HE IS A DOMINANT SWITCH ‼️‼️

it doesn’t matter if he’s being the top it bottom. HE IS GOING TO BE IN CHARGE NO MATTER WHAT

he is SO MEAN

oh he will 100% humiliate and mock u during the whole thing

he has. LONG AND I MEAN LONGGGG ASS FINGERS. ( he likes to finger you before fucking you 🤭🤭)

CERTIFIED ORGASM DENIER⁉️

he will deny your orgasm because he can. NO REASON WHATSOEVER HE IS A JACKASS

HE LIKES MISSIONARY . he LOVES to see your fucked out face 😓

he is very much into public sex/ teasing

this one time when he actually came into a meeting, you being the genius you are.. started to rub his dick with your shoe under the table 😍🙏

you were so smug about the fact that after the meeting you left him alone

yea you weren’t so smug when he dragged you to a bathroom and fucked your brains out 😓

HE LIKES IT WHEN U PULL HIS HAIR

he isn’t that loud little grunts here in there but. HE WILL DO IT IN YOUR EAR🙏🙏

oh he leaves SO MANY HICKEYS ON UR NECK⁉️ u don’t have enough time to cover them so u just . HAVE TO SUCK IT UP N GO TO WORK LIKE THAT☹️

yosano gave u the side eye with a wink 😚

his aftercare is kinda. shit..

U HAVE TO DO IT 😓😓 but that’s ok ig knowing him this long, it’s not that surprising (he appreciates u doing it <3)

kunikida 👨‍🏫

ERM SO YOU LIKED HIM FIRST RIGHT

But the things is , you barely met his standards in his notebook HE DIDNT TELL U THAT BUT HE WAS A LITTLE CONFLICTED ON WHAT TO DO.

so he went to dazai …… DAZAI SET YALL UP ON A DATE BC HES THE BEST WINGMAN 💪

he honestly had a wonderful time on the date and said SCREW my notebook (for the first time in his life 😓)

he can and will switch from boyfriend to parent at you ☹️

like let’s say your life isn’t rlly great

HE WILL SWITCH IT UP FOR U SO ??? EFFECTIVELY???

he lets u braid his hair SOMETIMES 😒

you asked him one time if y’all could match nail colors (not acrylics they’re not the best for the job)

YALL ROCKED THAT PRETTY OCEAN BLUE NAIL COLOR FOR A MONTH ‼️‼️ 💅

after u taught him the basics of makeup, HE LOVES DOING YOURS

(he actually got better than u… ur a little salty..)

he liked it when u give him forehead kisses :D

he shames u for watching trashy TV BUT THE SECOND HE SEES 90 day marriage he BINGES IT WITH U (i forgot the actual name)

NSFW!!

ok let’s be for real.

this man is a dominant top 🙏

like in the battle feild, he likes being in control, when your on his bed, he likes being in control

when u act like a brat insted of punishing u by fucking u in whatever way (edging or spanking)

HE WILL REFUSED TO TOUCH U

like he’ll get u all hot (and wet) JUST for him not to touch u

him being taunted by a man child at work (dazai) he very much knows how to deal with them

he likes it when u pull on his pony tail 🤭🤭

he’s not THAT kinky however he does have a red rope under his bedddddd..

HE LOVES TITS MAN LIKE 😓😓

no matter how big, he will leave so many bite marks on them 🤭

he likes bending you over a desk/bed when he fucks you 😓

he is very sweet when fucking you, showering you in praises ‼️‼️

however he can last a very LONG time so get ready for that overstimulation !!

His aftercare is pretty standard! he runs a shower for the 2 of u so y’all can be all cute and sentimental <3

HE IS A TITS GUY (duh)‼️‼️‼️

—————————————————————

Ranpo🍩 (if ykyk)

OK SO YALLS CASE IS

you fell first, but he feel harder <3

Because cmon. U cannot keep a secret from this man for the life of you😒

like he deducted that you had feelings for him

and that got him thinking, but this thinking lasted for a while so HE KEPT ON THINKING ABOUT YOU

and at some point yosano asked if he was ok , and he was like “no… i’m in LOVE??? YUCK”

you feel in love with a man child 😓😓

he confessed to u… IN THE MIDDLE OF A MURDER CASE YALL WERE WORKING ON….

NOW ONTO THE ACTUAL RELATIONSHIP

you guys are so unserious YALL ANNOY THE SHIT OUT OF EVERYONE 😓😓 (y’all know when u need to be serious tho dw !)

u guys pull daily pranks of the agency NOT ON DAZAI THAT WHORE KNOWS 😒😒

he doodles on your hand when he’s hella bored 🤭

speaking of which !

you guys have a LOT of drawing contest 😋

DAWG YALL HIT UP THE CANDY STORE LIKE EVERY FRIDAY (you’re on ur way to be diabetic 😓😓)

HE IS A BLANKET HOGGER.

not only that he moves a lot while asleep WHICH U DO TOO

It’s a gamble to see who’ll wake up on the floor 🤷🏽‍♀️

shit talking is a must EVERY time y’all go out to eat ‼️‼️

YOU GUYS HAVE MATCHING BEANIES or whatever his hat is called (it was his idea 😋) u guys r so silly

SPEAKING OF SILLY…

y’all play roblox… U GUYS BULLY N SCAM LIL KIDS 😓😓 (ONLY UR ACC GOT BANNED BTW AND NOT HIS??? u were pissed 😒)

u gotta strap him down to drink water and eat at LEAST of fruits bc oh my god???

bro does not have the most healthiest diet but yk what thats ok be REAL

NSFW!!

he’s a dominant switch leaning more to bottoming..⁉️

and we ALL know why

U NEED TO PLEASE THE GREATEST DETECTIVE IN THE WORLD DUH 🙏

he makes u please him FIRST before he even THINKS on laying a finger on you

oh but he knows what buttons to push to fluster you, get you in the mood, and how to get you even more hot and bothered 🤭

he has collar for u <3

MIRROR SEX 😓 he wants to make sure YOU see how stupid u get 💅

oh y’all 100% have sex in public, not for the thrill because he knows y’all won’t get caught

NO BECAUSE THIS GUY IS CLINGY AND NEEDY AS HELL😓

his sex drive is pretty high so YOURE IN FOR IT ALL (well he’s in you 🏃🏽‍♀️)

he is. SO. GOOD WITH HIS TOUNGE.

he eats you out like 4 times a week AND WHEN HE DOES

He can AND WILL make u come more than 1 time

HE WILL HUMILIATE U <33

100% overstimulates you by making YOU pleasure him (giving head , riding etc)

y’all split aftercare because god forbid he pampers you 😒 (he will if he knows it bothers you <33)

yall have a bath bubble bath after with rubber duckies 😋

50/50 chance yall fuck again 😓

HE IS A THIGH MAN.

Akutagawa🌑

ok so..😦

you guys met around the same time when u both got recruited by dark era dazai 😓😓

meaning well, dazai also trained you 🧍🏽‍♀️

it took him a while to trust you bc well having a horrid childhood PLUS having a very psychotic man training u in the mafia does something to u!

u would take care of each others wounds when needed too..<3

he confessed a little after dazai left the mafia

he wrote u a very straight forward note to meet up somewhere because he’s taking u out 🤗

(ik sounds hella delulu but if aku rlly does loves u, i feel like he would have a soft spot for u and would have no shame to show it to u and ONLY u :D)

y’all stargazed that night and swore to have each others back (that’s his way of saying ily <3)

onto the actual relationship!

he would absolutely rather DIE than do PDA

y’all train together and he does NOT go easy on you 😓

regardless on how he asked u out, that does not mean he changed his personality

he can and WILL be a dick to u , but that’s ok bc u fight back that’s kinda y’all’s thing 💅

you guys get up really early in the morning so, before work, y’all go to the same breakfast place every single day :D

u got along with Gin, and that was something he was hoping for u

when u guys are alone walking to a destination of a mission, we will hold ur pinkie <3

y’all talk in morse code a lot, whether y’all blink or tap ! (it’s mostly to make sure the other is ok)

it’s painfully obvious that he cannot express his feelings when he’s feeling like shit , so he does lash at you

you however, manage the situation perfectly , you do not blame him because you and him KNOW what he’s been through

however you tell him every time that u are not at fault to the reason he’s upset.

he grumbles an apology, while u smile warmly:D

as an apology he’s, a LESSER pain in the ass <3

No nsfw for aku, i HC that he is asexual !

—————————————————————

CHUUYA🎃

ok ok so 🏃🏽‍♀️

when chuuya got recruited into the mafia, you were already a subordinate to Kouyou

(you had recently joined too!)

You wielded a katana that supported your ability to the max which is why u we’re out under kouyou!

when you first lay eyes on him , you were infatuated (he is so pretty..)

though he barely trusted the mafia at the time, so it took him a while to fully trust you

and boy when he did

he never left your side<3

as you guys went up the ranks, Mori thought it would be best to have u as chuuyas right hand woman when he became executive (after dazai left anyway)

meaning.. YALL SPENT HELLA TIME TOGETHER….

he honestly was in denial about his feelings towards because the thought of another potential betrayal, especially from you?

so it took a while to confess, to the point where kouyou noticed and they had MANY talks abt it

enough to get him confidence and or reassurance

he asked u out in the most romantic way possible ‼️‼️‼️

he first of all took u out to dinner (which was a regular occurrence so u thought nothing of it)

HE PULL OUT A BIG ASS BOQUET OF FLOWERS WHILE U WERE CHEWING ON UR FOOD N ASKED 😦😦

ANYWAYS MOVING ONTO THE ACTUAL RELATIONSHIP

he is so??? fucking amazing???

his love language is buying you EXPENSIVE SHIT😨😨 (u don’t complain)

he wont do PDA bc like.. he doesn’t wants y’all business be shown to everyone

HOWEVER HE WILL BE ALLLL OVER U IF HES JELOUS ☠️ (this applies when osamu was still in the mafia, he would get hella touchy w/ u to piss chuuya off)

u make him carry u using his ability ‼️‼️

MATCHING WATCHES 🤭

y’all have arguments every now and then bc y’all have a very short temper ☠️

(y’all still apologize to eachother tho 😋 UNLESS THE FIGHT GETS YALL HELLA PETTY ☠️☠️)

every single time y’all fight and his and your subordinates witness it all ??

they all think “This again?”

u like sleeping LITERALLY on top of him HE DOESNT REALLY APPRECIATE NOT BEING ABLE TO BREATHE 😍😍

he lets u do his hair a lot 🙏🙏

SELF CARE NIGHTS R A MUST

if u don’t do it , he WILL get u into it

NSFW!!

he is a dominant switch babes..

no matter if he’s the one receiving or giving? he is the one ordering you around

he is so into BDSM

ik this is like stereotypical of him BUT.

the idea of red wine lingerie on you will make him bust on the spot.

MIRROR SEX🏃🏽‍♀️‼️

he loves calling you his little slut 😝

HAIR PULLING

and HELLA BITTING 🤯 (get it cuz he’s a vampire ha ha ha!!! /j)

contrary to popular belief, i think he’s into the risk of public sex

this. ONE. TIME. he was fingering you while yall were in a meeting..

GOD KNOWS HOW MORI DIDNT NOTICE BECAUSE IF HE DID.☠️

but you know who did? KOUYOU. she gave y’all the nastiest side eye and was left flabbergasted (HER TWO KIDS ARE DOING SUCH INDECENT SHIT???)

he absolutely loves it when you initiate the foreplay

he will ALSO make you deep throat him 😣

… gun kink..? 😞

he likes licking you ??? he’s cat i swear

THIGH MAN OH MY GOD

he CANNOT keep his hands off them..

he does the thing where he’s driving and his free hand is on your thigh

that’s like how 99.9% car sex happenes btw!

AFTER CARE 10/10

he runs you a bath

HE DRESSES YOU UP

he SETTELES YOU IN BED?

treats you like a god damn princess ‼️‼️

—————————————————————

FYDOR 🐀

erm ok so first

you gotta be a little delusional ok

because i have a feeling that if it were cannon him.. he would only be with you for his own entertainment so…

WE ARE GOING TO BE DELUSIONAL AND PRETEND THATS NOT THE CASE 😍‼️‼️

ok so…

you got recruited to the DOA by nikolai because he just found you loosing control of your ability??? (real y/n moment ‼️‼️)

he thought you were silly enough SO HE DRAGGED U ALONG

He did get a scolding by fydor for bringing a random stranger to their HQ? (what even is their building called ☠️)

he thought since you were already there… to get a good read at you and found you fascinating to say the least

He saw a TINT of innocence with.. rage?? he absolutely loved it

but then.. the more he “hung out” with you.. he started feeling this weird thing in his chest every time you popped into his mind..

he immediately knew what it is was and

he started avoiding you

because love isn’t something he needs right now

bros trying to take over the world and purify it not.. this.

the more he thought about it , his mind came up with the excuse that .. maybe your love can empower him..

AND HE BAUGHT IT

he asked you out so straight forward???

like y’all were in the middle of drinking tea and he just said “Would you like to take my hand in a relationship?”

and you spat out your tea and he did NOT repeat himself 😒

ONTO THE ACTUAL BF HC…

just because he loves and would set the world on fire for you… he still has high standards for you as a member of the DOA

he also likes to challenge you intellectually so you could (not rlly BUT STILL) keep up with him!

it actually has helped you tho! 

you guys have this little tradition of writting silly poems for eachother

it’s impossible to trick this man so.. you make him look for YOUR poems 😋 (the effort is there!)

he actually knows how to do makeup so he does yours on a regular basis! (it’s like between a casual goth look)

if you don’t have the same beliefs as him, he still appreciates the thought of you helping and supporting him

in one of his battles with the ADA, you were his trump card, dazai was left flabbergasted tbh

though he’s not high maintenance, he loves LOVES holding ur hand :D

y’all own a black kitty his name is Nova!

HES THE BEST CUDDLIER

oh my god he cannot stand when you give someone else attention

like he won’t say it outloud but like..

it lowkey pisses him off when you do

he can be a peace of shit to you

the thing that he likes tho is that u don’t let him walk over you ‼️

NSFW!!

2 words.

Dominant

bottom (maybe he’ll top u like once a month..)

HE AN ANEMIC MAN HE BARELY HAS THE ENERGY TO SURVIVE THE DAY.

but oh boy his personality…

erm! reverse cowgirl is his go to position..

HE MAKES U SUCK HIM OFF BEFORE ANYTHING THO..

honestly you have no problem with this

the sight of him whimpering under your touch MY GODDD 😝😝

he will absolutely never outright admit that you make him feel good 😒

THE ONCE IN A LIFETIMES WHERE HE TOPS YOU

it’s wild.

he doesn’t need to go rough on you because he has your body memorized like the back of his hand

he KNOWS what spots to abuse 😓

i honestly think he’s a tit guy

he knows that he loves the thought of you fucking him up BUT HE WANTS U TO TAKE INITIATIVE🤨

pick up context clues babes

his aftercare is actually pretty great but it doesn’t invole you getting out of bed just tons of cuddles and praises <3

—————————————————————

Nikolai 🤡

he would 100% prefer a high-maintenance partner to keep up with his silly doings yk?

so in this case.. sigma “recruited” you to the DOA (with fydors approval in advance)

YALL WERE IN SYNC ASAP⁉️⁉️

you guys play pranks on everyone except fydor bc he SUCKS smh…😒

HE JUMPSCARES U A LOT WITH HIS COAT☠️

at the start of y’all’s friendship he said “oh who said a guy and a girl can’t be the best of buds and nothing more!”

well..! that didn’t age well

y’all are the “You fell first but he feel harder”

i would like to say niko was oblivious to your feelings because everything you guys do are jokes…

he never thought anything you 2 did was serious

so.. apologies for the delay!

honestly it was fydor who told him

though he does not care of y’all’s love life.. niko was pushing his buttons that day and Fedya thought that was the best way to shut him up

and it worked

he was a lil flabbergasted 😦

when he REALLLYYY thought about it… he enjoyed the thought of you 2 being something more..

SO HE ASKED YOU OUT IN THE MOST NIKOLAI WAY :D

he gave you 2 bouquets of flowers 💐!!

though one was poisoned and you had to figure out which one wasn’t by a time limit… (YOU GOT IT LIKE A MINUTE BEFORE THO‼️)

and then he confessed and y’all lived happily ever after :D

…..

the day that fedya told niko that you liked him.. WAS THE REASON WHY FEDYA WANTS TO KHS.

if he thought that the 2 of u were annoying before?

JESUS CHRIST MULTIPLY IT BY 10☠️

he cannot go a day without physically holding you

whether it’s your hand , arm , leg thighs anything (he’s touch starved)

MATCHING OUTFITS R A MUST

he whines to fydor when he doesn’t pair y’all up for a mission

while fedya and dazai were in prison yall procrastinated on your current mission… YALL GOT IT DONE LAST MINUTE THO😓😓

Dawg leaves you no room in the bed he spreads out to much AND he’s a blanket hogger🤨

neither of you can cook

SO U MAKE SIGMA COOK FOR YOU😍‼️‼️

very rarely gets emotional with you, but when he does?

those are the moments you 2 are thankful you found eachother <3

NSFW!!

he’s very high maintenance so…

he’s a dominant top ‼️

public sex is something the 2 of you do on a daily basis

very VERY high sex drive

y’all’s first time you told him to go slow because you’ve never done anything like this b4 and he did..!

the second you told him to go a little faster..

DAWG HE WENT ALL OUT (at the time it lowkey hurt BUT I FELT SO GOOD??)

fedya gives y’all the nastiest look when y’all come out of the bathroom…

he loves sending you videos of his print 👏👏👏

he knows you love his hands so he fingers you a lot

speaking of which.. HE EDGES YOU ALOT

he does it for no reason what so ever like at all..

he thinks it’s funny ☹️

HE LIKES IT WHEN YOU ACT LIKE A BRAT 😍‼️‼️

like sex is a silly game between y’all

(he knows it’s game you can’t win)

honestly he has a size kink 🤷🏽‍♀️

AND AND wax play‼️‼️

he likes teasing you and then just leaving u alone for the rest of the day 😒😒

HE LOVES GRIPPING YOUR WAIST WHILE FUCKING U FROM BEHIND

erm his aftercare is average he cleans you up and bring you water and y’all fall asleep pretty quickly

honestly i think he’s a tit guy!

—————————————————————

SIGMA 🎶

erm ok so nikolai also recruited u here! (im so original!!)

for starters he already liked you sense of fashion

like a victorian era type 😜

he noticed how you always had your headphones in.. but when he talked to you.. you took them off

maybe he was reading too much into it but it made his heart flutter

you spent most of your time in his casino, so you give had tons of time to bond

he honestly enjoyed the times where you’d share headphones (he LOVESS your playlist)

honestly niko kept teasing him abt you and no matter how many times he tried to confess he couldn’t

well face to face anyway.. he wrote u a cute silly poem >w•

both of y’all’s love language is quality time

honestly fydor doesn’t exactly hate y’all together so that’s something!

late night walks is a daily routine yall do almost every day

he loves doing your makeup AND hair ‼️‼️‼️🫶

yall do eachothers nails all the time😋

OO EVERY FRIDAY IS A MOVIE NIGHT

every other day y’all go to this little coffee shop in the morning b4 dealing with a chaotic day

you are a night owl while she’s an early morning person

y’all take baths together all the time <33

y’all have the ENTIRE lego flower collection ‼️‼️

that’s literally the main reason nikolai is not allowed NEAR your shared appointment 😓😓

NSFW!!

cmon..

this man. WITH HIS SLUTTY WAIST.

is a submissive bottom 🤷🏽‍♀️

originally he thought “ofc im going to take the role of being on top because-“

the moment you practically pinned him .. you awoken something in him😨

HE LOVES LOVES LOVESSS being dominated so bad it’s concerning

he doesn’t HATE it when you take things slow.. but jesus christ when you go rough on him?

he nuts in the spot 🤷🏽‍♀️

he likes it when you pull on his hair ‼️

he’s into BDSM (it’s always the quiet ones)

he has a smile sex drive so honestly it’s up to you! he doesn’t mind tbh 🗣️

he loves it when you play music while y’all have sex 🎶🎶

erm nikolai can’t KNOCK A FUCKING DOOR SO HE JUST WALKED INTO YOUR HOME AND SAW YOU RIDING SIGMA.

he never ever let him live it down

this one time you made him wear a toy on his dick and though he will deny it..

it was one of the best days of his ENTIRE LIFE🤭🤭

he also likes the excitement of being blindfolded

his favorite place to have sex in is the living room IDK WHY🤨

mostly it’s you doing the aftercare which he rates a 5 stars! 🫶🫶

———————————

OKAY THATS IT!! again ik it’s been a month.. ILL TRY TO POST MORE FREQUENT!

#bungo stray dogs #atushi nakajima #osamudazai #ranpo edogawa #kunikida doppo #akutagawa ryuunosuke #chuuya nakahara #fydor dostoevsky #nikolai gogol #bsd sigma #bsd smut #bsd x reader #nikolai smut #sigma smut #akutagawa x reader #kunikida smut #dazai smut #chuuya smut #ranpo smut #x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #sexy tease #bsd fyodor #bsd headcanons #bsd atsushi #bsd fandom #slayy queen

[ja3honey]

♡ 𝐃𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐀 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐏𝐭.𝟐 | 𝐊.𝐇𝐉 ♡

【Synopsis】 : The more he tasted you. The more he was becoming obsessed. And he was treading in dangerous waters, no longer caring about the consequences.

『Word count』 : 2.10k

-> Genre: Smut with little plot. Fluffy. DBF au.

Pairing: Dilf!Hongjoong x Park!Reader

[Warnings] : Fingering. Dirty talk. Pet names. Insecurity about sexual experience. Inexperience reader. Kinda late-bloomer reader. Mention of sex. This is filthy… Hongjoong is in his late 30s while the reader is 23. Hongjoong teaches the reader… I was high when I wrote this, so ignore any mistakes. It not my fault.

Note: Part two is done and dusted since you absolute filthy sinners needed more Dilf Hongjoong. Also, special tags to @mingis-prince @trishu-paper209 @itza-meee for asking for a part two. Enjoy ♡♡♡

Masterlist | Navigation | Part One | Buy Me A Ko-Fi

“Aren’t you gonna help me, sir.”

Hongjoong’s brain couldn’t function, let alone take in what you had said. He could feel the way your cunt clenched around his fingers, your gummy walls so warm and welcoming. He could cum again just by the thought. Your hips were rolling, slowly riding his thick digits. He gulped sharply from what he was witnessing. You, Seonghwa’s sweet innocent daughter, riding his fucking fingers like your life depended on it. “Fuck baby, I might just cum right now.”

He felt no shame in spilling his filthy words to you, something about this already felt so dirty so why not just keep adding fuel to the fire? He shuffled back, making sure not to move his hand that was buried between your thick thighs, using his free hand to pull you closer by your waist. You hiccuped out this name, the movement making your whole body tingle. “D-daddy…” 

“What did you just say?” You were both shocked, stilling your movements completely you felt a wave of embarrassment. You didn’t mean for it to slip out, truly, but oh did it feel so right. Hongjoong’s eyes darkened, pulling his fingers out of your soaking pussy, he chuckled, manhandling you until you were perfectly perched on his lap. He can feel your slick seeping through your panties, coating his boxers slightly. “Say it again, Angel. Who am I?”

“D-Daddy…” You whimpered feeling so small.

“Fuck.” He tipped his head back for a moment, questioning how the fuck he was going to restrain himself now when you are over here calling him daddy. “Are you tryin’ kill me here angel?”

He looked back in your direction seeing your eyes wide and curious, waiting so patiently for your next instruction. So he kept his right hand on your hip while he snaked the left behind your head, tugging you closer until your lips were only inches from his. You could feel his hot breath tickling your nose, the smell of the whiskey he was drinking earlier tonight with his friends and your father… his best friend. This was so dangerous, a part of you was screaming to back away now before anything else happened. But how could you move away now, when you were so close to finally getting what you always wanted…

When you first met your father's friends, Hongjoong wasn’t there. You met San and his partner Wooyoung. And his younger friends Jongho, Mingi, and Yeosang. And spilt drinks on his army friend Yunho. But Hongjoong… he was a mystery. No one spoke about him or what importance he had. All your father would say was they’ve known each other for a long, long time. But grew apart from the war they both served in and worked. But now he’s back and man photos did not do him justice. He was charming, playful and fucking smoking hot. His tattooed left arm made your head dizzy and when he went swimming you got a front-row show of his amazing body. You became wetter than anyone in that pool, that’s for sure.

“If we do this I won't guarantee I’ll let you go.” Hongjoong’s words were desperate and his heart was aching. He knew this was going to cause a lot of drama and most definitely your father killing him but you are worth it.

“Please Joong…” There it was. The words that started this whole drug trip of a night. Two, breathy, whimpering words. Calling for him. Begging for him. His lips were against yours in seconds, his hand tightly tucked on the back of your neck, making it impossible to slip away. His tongue was relentless, sliding over yours with such power and dominance. Your hands found place on his clothed chest, tangling your fingers in the soft cotton. Your hips began to move again, grinding harshly on this cock. His bulge hitting just the right spot making you squirm. “please, please, please.”

Your chanting against his mouth made him grunt, moving his legs so he could tip you both so you were on your back. Your head would be almost hanging off the end of the bed if Hongjoong hadn’t yanked you by your thighs so you could sprawl in the middle of the double mattress. You watch intensely as he tugged his shirt off, leaving himself in his boxer. You could finally take in the scars he had littered all over his body. Bullet wounds, stab marks. All beautifully painted his body. He had been through war, literally. You could almost forget with how calm his demeanour is twenty-hour-seven. “Can I take these off gorgeous?” 

His questions drew you out of your thoughts suddenly, noticing he had his fingers under the hem of your panties. You nodded eagerly feeling yourself tense up. All your previous self-confidence was slowly slipping away... No one has ever seen you naked must less fucked you, and you weren’t about to let Hongjoong find out. The embarrassment you’d feel, being almost twenty-three and still never having sex. Sure you’ve masturbated and used toys but being intimate with someone was unexplored territory. He slipped them off with the help of you lifting your hips. Once they were tossed aside he could take in your spread legs, and glistening sex. God, as if you couldn’t get any more beautiful here you were. “Fuck baby, you gonna let me eat you? Fuck this pretty pussy? You’ll have to be quiet, hmm.”

“Oh god…” You couldn’t help but reel over the idea of his tongue on you. Your body shaking just over the idea. Your breathing became faster, your lungs…tightening. Fuck, why do you feel so dizzy? So…Anxious. Hongjoong noticed almost immediately, hovering over you so he could cup your cheek with his tattooed hand while the other held him up. 

“Hey, Hey what’s wrong princess? Talk to me?” There’s the guilt. The sudden twang in his mouth. and As he saw a tear escape from you, he knew he had done something wrong. “Oh, I’m so sorry. What happened?”

His soothing voice was calming, slowly but surely lessening your heart rate. What you didn’t expect was to see tears in his eyes once you opened your own. It went silent, Hongjoong was waiting for you to respond. Your shaky hand glided up his chest before snaking to hold just behind his neck. “No, No. It’s okay keep going.”

He immediately sat up, bringing you with him. He let out a huff, helping you shift yourself until you were comfortable on his lap…again. “No, I need to know what I did.” His voice was firmer this time, authority-like. It reminded you just how different in age you both were. He was in such a different time in his life while you. You were still learning, exploring. You weren’t someone he could possibly want… right?

A thought danced across Hongjoong's mind for a moment and he couldn’t help but feel so stupid. “You’re a virgin…” He said it more like a statement rather than a question. You gulp, shakily nodding your head in shame. Of course, he can tell, he is sixteen years older than you for god sake. “Hey sugar, it’s okay. Theirs nothing wrong with being a virgin.” 

“There’s not…” You whimpered against his chest, feeling like such an idiot. You were crying, while naked on the guy you’ve had a crush on since you first saw a picture of him, only to realize that it’s okay that you’ve never had sex.

“No baby. It’s not…” Fuck, I’m gonna scream. Was what he wanted to say. He couldn’t care two shits if you were a virgin for you had slept with unlimited men. Sure, the idea of being your first, showing you what you hadn't experienced yet, and helping you through as many orgasms as he could give you in one night, was the most erotic news. But he cared about you. He didn’t want your first to be quiet, hushed away in a tiny ass room, on a tiny ass bed. No, he wanted your first to be memorable, loud, and fun. He wanted to show you how to make sweet love before pounding your cunt like he fucking hated you. He wouldn’t admit this to him just yet but he had fallen hard, from the moment you stepped out of your car. With a bright loving smile, kind eyes, and a beautiful Sun dress.

You sat up to look at him. Your glassy eyes from crying couldn’t barely see. Vision blurring through tears. He nudged his nose against yours, stroking your hip before sweetly, comfortingly. You inched your lips close until your top lip just grazed his before whispering. “I-I’m a virgin…” you felt like you had to say it, confirm it. His demeanour didn’t alter, or so much as flinch when you finally answered, cause he was telling the truth. He didn’t care how experienced or inexperienced. All he cared about was how you feel.

“Sweet thing…” He murmured but your lips sealed on his. This time the kiss was soft and gentle. His hands tugged against your hips, rocking you slightly backward. You let your body weight fall back, taking Hongjoong with you. Your lips never broke. His hips sat snug against your bare core, only his boxers separating you two. It was moderate at first, just a simple steady pace. But as you left little moans here and there, his speed would pick up. Until he was humping you harshly. His grinds hit your perfectly, feeling the shock of the silky fabric brush roughly against your sensitive clit. 

His cock was full hard now, groaning himself at the feeling of you against him. There was something about humping you with a piece of clothing in between so erotic, dirty. He had never felt more like a horny teen than he had now. You had such a hold on him, a way with words. You could do anything to him and he would say thank you. And now he was going to bust a nut in his boxers just from rubbing against you. “Fuck this feels so good baby. I’m gonna cream in my fucking shorts.”

“Fuck, don’t s-say stuff like that.” His words made you clench around nothing, wanting nothing more than his cock inside you. Or even his fingers, at this point either part of him would do. 

“Don’t say stuff like that, hmm.” He grunted picking up the pace in his thrusts. “But I can’t it. Not when I have such a gorgeous woman underneath, soaking me with her silk. You wanna come again, baby? Please, come for me, angel.”

His blabbering and whines made you throw your head back in a high-pitched squeak. All your nerves are on fire, feeling like you were an old fuse box crackling over heavy rain. Your eyes, sewn shut and your fingers nails digging into his shoulders. He was so close and he could tell you were too. Lifting up your leg so he hung on a higher part of his waist so he could ground down at the perfect angle, knocking the wind outta you quickly, seeing white.

He stilled, cumming all over himself. Some seeping through the fabric smearing no your inner thighs. You had no feeling in your legs, and your mind was like TV static, fuzzy, tiring. Hongjoong slipped away for a moment, coming back in a fresh new pair of boxers and a clean damp towel in hand. He wiped you all the semen he could, before helping you into a new pair of underwear, tucking you back on your own bed. He kisses your forehead, having drifted off only moments ago.

He knew he wasn’t going to fuck you tonight. But as he slept he thought about ways to make your first time perfect. He would think of a place, and time. Does he take you out to a restaurant or would you prefer home cooked? He would think about how you’d like to be fuck, positions, styles. He was going to definitely fuck you on every surface of his place. And as he snuck off to the bathroom for the fourth time tonight having to adjust or end up fixing, his problem, he knew he was most likely a dead man. And he was going to enjoy every moment of it.

Part Three

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez reaction #ateez reactions #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez scenario #ateez fanfiction #ateez x female reader #ateez x reader #ateez x reader smut #ateez fic #atz hongjoong #atz reactions #atz smut #atz fluff #atz drabbles #atz hard hours #atz imagines #atz scenarios #atz x reader #atz fanfic #hongjoong smut #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong #hongjoong #ja3honey

[love-belle]

you're the best in my life and i lost you !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which they truly are the best in each other's lives but they lost them.

or

for when you finally get to know that maybe it is unrequited. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader

prequel - i'd never walk cornelia street sign ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings - language

author's note - finally here!!!!! i REALLLLLLY hope u like it !!! i have so much planned for this week and i hope i can show u all of it soon !!! thank u so much for reading i love you <3

tagged - @willowpains @lexxlouuu @topaz125 @leclercloml @sophiaasf @slut4peterparker @crlsummer @ananyasr1bughead @official-chicken-little @jspitwall @lovely-blackinnon

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 3,927,588 others

yourusername my sophomore album "good riddance" is finally here and i'm soooo excited for u all to hear little pieces of my heart sewn together. every single syllable is what i feel and what i have been feeling. we all have that one person that we absolutely refuse to talk about so just like that, i ended up writing a whole album instead. thank you sooo much for supporting me, i love you all forever. and to the inspiration behind this, thank you. you were good to me. you're the best i've ever had.

19,628 comments

username SCREECHING WHAT THE FUCK

username oh my god

username now im half of myself here without you?????? you're the best in my life and i lost you????? and we had no control when it fell through???? it was one sided hate how i hurt you?????

-> username WHERE DO WE GO NOW

username i 😭 know 😭 i 😭 know 😭 better 😭 you're 😭 no 😭 guarantee 😭

username I ALMOST LOST IT I'LL HEAL EVENTUALLY BUT FASTER WHEN UR NEXT TO ME NEXT TO ME

-> username IM CODEPENDENT BUT TRYING HARD NOT TO BE IM BETTER WHEN UR NEXT TO ME

username why the FUCK aren't people talking about the blue and how it's literally her and charles???

-> username "you came out of the blue like that i never could've seen you coming i think you're everything i wanted" NAHHH FRRRRR

username there was absolutely NO NEED to break my heart like this

username charles is probably tearing up rn likeeee

-> username bro's hiding in a corner bc i KNOW lily is out for blood today

danielricciardo cool album

-> yourusername thank u i wrote it myself!!!!!!

-> username as if daniel's stories aren't js him crying and singing along the whole album 😭😭😭

username "i know it won't work" had NO business ruining me like that when i know damn well i haven't even held hands with someone

username THE VOICE MESSAGE IN THE INTERLUDE OMGKMGKMGKGSJJAJS

-> username i bet you my first born that it's CHARLES

-> username lost it when it was cut from charles' message (yes it was charles and yes it broke my heart) to y/n's like THERE WAS NO NEED TO HURT ME LIKE THAT

username i wish for pain and im glad we only live once bc this woman WILL find more creative ways to hurt us with her amazing songwriting and vocal skills

lilymhe LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVEEEEE

-> yourusername I LOVE YOUUUUU

lilymhe SO SO SO GOOD AHHHSJSJSJS

-> yourusername STOP TYSM IM GONNA CRY

lilymhe the only album to ever exist btw

-> yourusername ur the 1 for me ❤️

username still not over two people like what do u MEAN "hate how we touched just to push things aside. when u take me for granted i make it alright"

username she's never attaining peace for releasing this and ruining my nights

username OH I KNOW SPIRALLING IS MISERABLE I SHOULD PROBABLY GO BACK HOME WHY DOES THAT FEEL DIFFICULT DIFFICULT

carmenmmundt still crying

-> yourusername same 😭😭😭

carmenmmundt george wants to comment but he can't see through his tears

-> yourusername PLEASE OMG

username "and to the inspiration behind this, thank you. you were good to me. you're the best i've ever had." DO U WANT ME TO CRY

username charles i am in ur walls

username i will never understand how she wrote "it's nice to have a friend" for charles and now she wrote "two people" like how did THAT transition happen

-> username the worst transition ever btw

landonorris thid is si good anf im cryjng so harf whay thr fucj

-> yourusername lando deep breaths

-> landonorris DINT TELL MR TI TAKR DEEP BRESTGS I SWRAR

-> yourusername wow

-> username i identify so much with lando it's INSANE

username somewhere in monaco pascale leclerc is listening to this album and it's a good day ❤️

-> username bet u literally my bank account the entire leclerc household is BLASTING this

carla.brocker words cannot explain how proud i am 🩷🩷🩷 i love you so much big sis

-> yourusername carlaaaaa 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 u own my heart i LOVEEEE you

-> username this made me tear up whatcthebfuck

username no bc i KNOW charles heard "will u cry" and CRIED like that man is not strong enough to bear that

-> username no bc "u don't move me???? i see through u????? i don't follow???? i don't want to?????"

-> username that man is in SHAMBLES about this rn

username GOOD RIDDANCE TOUR WHEN

username this will be my personality for years to come

lorenzotl proud of you y/n/n 🤍

-> yourusername i love u charlotte's bf thank u

username cannot breathe bc "it's almost like you like to let me down" and "i hate the fact that i miss u around"

≡;- ꒰ °twitter꒱

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, landonorris, danielricciardo and 2,672,882 others

charles_leclerc so proud of you. seeing you live your dream is the best feeling ever and i hope you get to see the world just like we talked about. things aren't the same but my support for you will always be unwavering. this is what you were made for and i couldn't be more happy 🤍

tagged yourusername

16,628 comments

username what the actual fuck

username WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

username stfu this isn't DONE like u CAN'T do this

username "things aren't the same but my support for you will always be unwavering" WHAT IF I CRY

username so u mean to tell me that he went to her show after MONTHS even when they're not together just to support her???? bc he wants her to see the world even if things aren't the same????? what the fuck

username i did NOT need this at 7am in the morning come back later

username babe wake up new y/ncharles lore js dropped

danielricciardo amazing show!! aren't you glad i dragged you there?

-> charles_leclerc i literally booked the tickets myself what are you on about?

-> danielricciardo let me have this one mate

username last night was UNREAL bc wdym y/n's ex fiancé was there and wdym she sang full machine and the blue for him and wdym he came on stage and spoke so fondly about her and WDYM MAX VERSTAPPEN AND LANDO NORRIS THREW WATER AT THE AUDIENCE JS FOR THE HELL OF IT

username this is my roman empire

username i know he was dying inside like

username imagine fumbling a bad bitch like y/n couldn't be me LMFAOOOO

username y'all brutal in the comments let my man grovel in peace

landonorris nice caption. now say i love you.

-> charles_leclerc i love you lando

-> landonorris not to ME to HER (i love you too 😘😘😘🥰🥰🥰😍😍😍)

-> charles_leclerc oh (no)

username SCREAMING DANIEL SNATCHING Y/N'S MIC FROM HER AND SINGING HIS FAV SONG FROM THE ALBUM

-> username THEY'RE SO UNSERIOUS 😭😭😭

username this caption will haunt me in my dreams

username is it js me or did her voice crack when she said "now i know it's unrequited"

-> username NO BC I FR THOUGHT THAT IT WAS JS ME

-> username she genuinely looked on the verge of tears throughout "405" like

-> username imagine being y/n and singing the most heartbreaking song ever about ur ex IN FRONT OF UR EX

username no bc this feels like a confirmation that they'll never be together guys why does this feel so final i want my parents back.

username SCREAMING WHATHEBRCUKXKSKA

carlossainz55 surreal night. loved seeing you lose your cool every time she was nearing your side of the stage

-> charles_leclerc just because we can speak doesn't mean we should

username the camera switching from y/n to charles when she sang "i know it won't work" was so me like the camera person is messy js like me fr

username genuinely in ruins on my bedroom floor rn y/ncharles nation we LOST

username no bc i CANNOT enter their friendship era ever again after seeing what i have seen for the past few years

-> username fr like people don't GET IT!!!! they were supposed to get MARRIED

username forever crying bc of them 💔💔💔

yourusername forever grateful for u!!!! thank u so much 🫶🏼

*liked by charles_leclerc*

yourusername u deserve the world

*liked by charles_leclerc*

username charles replying to everyone but y/n on the post HE made for HER makes me so idk like it's weird

username no bc why do i have the feeling that y/n and charles are NOT good and this is js something done for "damage control" or wtv

username im.

#f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 imagines #social media au #fake instagram imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc instagram au

[verstappen-cult]

Max is upset when you can't be at his side when the race weekend starts. Then when you're back to his side, I guarantee you can't not leave his side at all. This boy is going to stick with you like a koala till he's satisfied

You couldn't join Max the past weekend in Australia due to your work and now you regret it so much. You could’ve just asked your boss for a few days off and she would have said yes, and you could have been by his side during the fiasco that was the Australian Grand Prix.

Max was a little upset when you told him that you would not be in Australia, but after a long conversation — that ended up with you promising to be in Suzuka — he understood. 

Max has to make a quick stop in Monaco to pick a few things before flying to Japan, so you planned to wait for him with a delicious dinner and his favorite dessert. But you didn’t even have time to go to the grocery store because Max decided to arrive earlier, much earlier.

“What do you mean you’re outside?” You squeal, putting on your sneakers. “Outside of where?” You hold your phone between your cheek and shoulder as you grab your bag, waving goodbye to your friends.

“The pilates studio.” He simply says. 

“No, you’re in Australia.”

He laughs, “No, I’m in Monaco.”

“No becau—” You stop dead in your tracks when you step outside because he is, in fact, there, leaning against his car. “Max!”

He opens his arms and you don’t waste any time, colliding against his body. You drop everything just to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“I missed you so much.” You whisper against his neck, and you feel his smile when he kisses your cheek. 

“I couldn’t stay there any longer,” He shrugs, grabbing your things from the floor. “I missed my lucky charm this weekend.”

Your smile fades at the memory of Sunday’s race. “I’m sorry for what happened.” Max shrugs again, dismissing the topic with a wave of his hand. “How are you feeling?”

“These things happen. I won’t lie and say that I don’t care but we can’t cry about it, the team’s working on fixing everything and we’ll be back stronger than ever.”

You kiss him because there’s nothing else you could do. Hearing him talk that way when you know the old Max would have been beating himself up means everything to you.

“What was that for?” He chuckles when you pull away, a faint blush on his cheeks. 

“What? I can’t kiss my boyfriend now?” He rolls his eyes but leans to leave a chaste kiss on your lips. “Can you drop me off at the grocery store? I need to buy a few things for dinner.”

You fall into an easy conversation as he drives through the streets of Monaco. He tells you about everything that's wrong with the car and what they’re doing to fix those issues and, in return, you tell him what you’ve been doing in his absence, and how much the cats miss him. 

Soon enough, you reached your destination. 

“Okay, I won’t be long. You can go home and—what are you doing?”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No, you’re going home to rest.” But he doesn’t listen. Max just gets out of the car, opens the door and helps you out. “Max.”

He groans, “I just,” He drops his head slightly forward. “I missed you so much, I don’t want to leave you.”

Your heart melts and you can’t say no to him, not when he’s looking like a lost puppy in front of you, so you simply take his hand, dragging him inside.

Of course you don’t miss the way his whole face lights up. 

You end up arguing in the milk aisle because Max doesn’t leave your side, not when you try to move away to grab something you need and definitely not when you bump into one of your friends who you haven’t seen in a while, so you’re unable to hug her. 

The argument ends with you pinned against the store shelves with Max whispering filthy things in your ear. You only pull away when the store manager clears his throat saying that “if you don’t stop right now, you’re gonna be banned for life.”

You think that once at home Max will want to take a rest, forgetting about you, but, to your surprise, he just takes a quick shower before joining you in the kitchen. 

You cook dinner together, with a few kisses and ear scratches to the cats. And then you eat together, talking about everything and nothing at all, enjoying each other’s company. 

Of course Max doesn’t let you shower alone, he joins you there too.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱ #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #f1 imagine

[orchidsangel]

CAPABLE OF LOVE (JASON TODD) - "and i think i need a picture 'cause it's never enough, to see you smilin in my mind when i lay still in the dark"

note/cw ~ GN!reader, fluff, angst, suggestive (if you squint), if the ending seems rushed it's because it was

“So, I was cleaning out my camera roll recently, and I realized we don’t really have that many pictures of us” you say from behind the menu in your hands, pretending to casually browse through.

He shows no reaction besides a short hum of acknowledgement, instead opting to continue perusing the multitude of diner food options in front of him.

“Like, we’ve been together for months, and I don’t think we’ve ever taken any pictures to um- commemorate anything you know?” Your eyes move up, peeking over the menu trying to see if this information garnered any kind of reaction from him.

It didn’t.

“And the few we do have, your face is super blurry in them…Probably because every time I pull out a camera, you turn away.”

He looks up for a second, but very soon turns his attention back to the menu, showing no other signs of interest.

A small sigh escapes your lips, and you lean back against the booth chair, now addressing the hunger in your stomach instead of the stubborn man in front of you refusing to acknowledge the very serious issue you’ve presented him.

Your hands flip through the worn pages, and you weigh your options, eventually deciding on a seasonal pancake stack listed in the way back that piqued your interest. Closing your menu and placing it down in front of you, you cross your arms and try to look anywhere but him.

“I have pictures of you.”

Your eyes dart to Jason, whose nose is still buried in between pages of burgers and omelets.

“Lots of them, actually.” He says, raising his eyes to look at you.

His full attention is on your face now, and no longer the menu.

“Some of you smiling, some of you laughing, some when you’re not looking…” His eyes go back down to the laminated paper in front of him.

“Some of you naked…” He trails off, and you recede even farther back into the seat, a heat creeping up your neck and towards your cheeks.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

A stupid smile sits on his face, and he closes the menu, sliding it off to the side.

“Not sure what you’re talking about sweetheart.”

“Just because you’re handsome doesn’t mean you get to play dumb.” You say, sitting up, regaining your composure. “Look, I know you’re not very fond of cameras but a few pictures of us together on my phone isn’t gonna blow your cover.” Sympathy laces your words, and you look at him with a softened gaze. 

He rests his forearms on the table and leans forward slightly, teal eyes boring into you with a light playfulness but you can tell how badly he wants you to drop the topic.

“I just want a picture, one picture.” It comes out quietly, barely above a whisper; something only you two can hear. “For when you’re gone, and if you don’t come back…”

The smile drops from his face when he notices the shift in your tone, “I’m not-”

“You can’t guarantee that.” You say, holding back something threatening to break through. “Just one, for the nights when I’m alone and my memory isn’t enough. Please.”

He clenches his jaw and tilts his head down before sliding to the edge of the seat, and out of the booth.

Your eyes follow him as he stands up, and you’re sure he’s gonna leave. You shouldn’t have pushed him; it wasn’t your place.

But instead, he slides into the seat beside you, and turns in your direction as much as he possibly can. Gently taking your head in his hands, he places a soft kiss on your forehead, right below your hairline. 

A single tear spills down your cheek and he swipes it away with his thumb, caressing the spot where it was.

Leaning in, he presses his lips against yours in a sweet kiss you’re eager to reciprocate. It serves as a mutual apology, an ‘I’m sorry’ from the both of you.

“I didn’t realize it meant that much to you.” He says between breaths, hands still cradling your face. “But if it really is that important then we can take the picture.”

“Yeah?”

“We can take a million pictures if you want.”

A giddy laugh escapes your lips, “you mean that?”

“Mhm, some of us smiling, some of us laughing, some of us-”

“Naked?”

A grin spreads across his face, “hey, you said it not me.” And he leans in to kiss you one more time before sticking his hand in your pocket and pulling out your phone.

“Wanna do the honors?” He says, holding the device out for you to grab.

You take it into your hand and swipe to open the camera, situating your arms in front of you to get your faces in frame. 

“Okay now look into the lens,” you say, pointing to the small black dot and maneuvering yourself to be close to him. Your head is tilted, tucked into the crook of his neck, and he has a fond smile on his face.

“3…2…1.” Your finger taps the white button, capturing the moment; and you wait a split second before opening it up in your camera roll.

It’s a sweet picture, the two of you nestled next to each other with the tufted red leather of the booth seat serving as a background, and you can’t help the smile that appears on your face upon seeing your first real picture together.

“Oh, sorry.” Jason mumbles, “I wasn’t looking at the camera…we can retake it if you want-” 

“No!” you cut him off quickly, “I love it. It’s perfect.”

And you meant that, because he may not have been looking at the camera, but he was looking at you with so much love in his eyes that any other picture you might take would never come close to this one.

#divider by cafekitsune #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd fic #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #jason todd i’ll love you forever

[ddejavvu]

Love to Lie - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader (Part 2) / Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 4 (Final Part)

Summary: Your worst fear is recognized when Bradley’s jet goes down with him in it. You’re not sure why you’re still his emergency contact, you’d broken up two weeks ago, but when you rush into the hospital room, you discover that you have a chance to fix the mistake you’d been cursing yourself for. The only problem is, you have to lie to Bradley, and you discover that you love doing it if it means you get to be with him again.

Contents/Warnings: fem!reader, Mitchell!reader, angst, angst with a fluffy/happy ending, amnesia trope, hospitals and their subsequent medical details, memory loss, goose and carole are still alive because i say so

WC: 16.1K / navigation / inbox

A/N: part two!! thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of the sweet, lovely feedback i got on part one, i was so happy you enjoyed the opening chapter!! this part gives some more backstory on reader+bradley, and i hope you like it just as much as you did the first! once more i'd love to hear your thoughts, thank you to everyone who said something wonderful and kind about the first part, it meant a lot to me. <3

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Instead of your alarm, you wake up to a call from Carole. It’s 7:29, and when you raise the phone to your ear, your voice is gruff and achy with sleep.

“Hello?”

It feels just like yesterday. Yesterday, that comes flooding back to you in a barrage of awful memories. All that’s changed is the bed you’re in; you’re still alone. You almost miss Carole’s response because you’re slowly taking in everything that hits you like an anvil from above, but you catch the last word and can discern her meaning.

“-visit?”

“Yeah,” You rub your eyes, feeling tears already gathered there; a great way to start your morning.

“Yeah, I’ll visit,” You confirm, and your alarm buzzes against your head. You hastily shut it off and yawn, only inducing more tears and sighing as you speak again, “I’m gonna run to the store real quick, get some stuff for cookies. He convinced me to sneak them in.”

“That boy,” Carole huffs, and even half-asleep, you hear her voice laced with fondness for her son, “Alright honey. How y’doin’?”

“Um,” You ponder, truly unsure as your fingers pick at a stray thread on the blanket; you’d been meaning to replace it for months. “Okay. Not okay, but not- not as bad as yesterday. I think-” You swallow, throat convulsing, “I think I love lying to him if it means I have him back.”

She’s silent for a moment, letting your words sink into your own brain. You feel guilty for them, just like you feel guilty for leading Bradley on, pretending nothing is wrong when your entire lives have fallen apart. But she eventually responds with all of the kindness and love she has inside of her, which is a lot.

“I know, baby. And it’s okay, it’ll get better. It’ll turn out right.”

“I hope so,” You breathe shakily, wishing either her or your boyfriend (pretend boyfriend? Ex-boyfriend?) were there to rub soothing circles into your back. 

“I know so.” She promises, and she’s never promised something she couldn’t guarantee. You hope this isn’t her first strike, because her never-ending optimism miraculously lifts your dreary spirits until your chest doesn’t ache with a sob begging to break free. “Alright, baby doll, I’ll let’cha get to baking. I’m gonna see if they’ll let me sneak in early, I- Oh! Nurse,” She calls away from the phone, and you hear her move on the other end, no doubt chasing down a poor nurse that doesn’t want to get fired for letting her in before visiting hours. You hang up the call with a snort, fond of how her fierce love for those around her hasn’t faded in all the time you’ve known her.

Pulling yourself out of bed is hard, but you do it for Bradley. You’re sluggish as you traipse to the bathroom, using deodorant in place of a shower and brushing your hair back into a ponytail. Showers are for people who have the luxury of time, you need to bake fast, and get over there to see if Bradley wakes up remembering anything new- er, old. You hope that he doesn’t, and then you hope that doesn’t make you a bad person.

One of the things you love about the place you’d shared with Bradley is that it’s close to a shopping center with a grocery store. It means that you walk to the supermarket, sandals on your feet and ratty, day-old clothes still on. No one seems to mind when you grab a basket looking like you’ve risen from the dead, and you collect the ingredients for Bradley’s favorite cookies with a skillful, experienced hand. You haven’t paid for anything by card in a while, you’d used emergency cash for the motel, and you wonder if you’ve been locked out of your joint bank account. Probably not; if the state of Bradley’s place had been any indication, he wants you back. But you’re cautious using the card anyways, in case a big red screen comes to life on the monitor in front of you and tells you you’re a terrible girlfriend. Almost a terrible wife.

You’re glad that you don’t run into any of your neighbors on the walk back home, because you don’t want to explain why you look the way you do, nor do you want to burst into tears when they ask where Bradley and his car are. You keep your head down and avoid the trike on the front walkway, ducking back into the house without being spotted. 

Firing up the oven feels heavenly, maybe because you’ve been eating scraps of motel food for two weeks. It reminds you of all the times you’ve baked with Bradley, or, more like the times you’ve baked while Bradley steals pinches of sugar from the bowl or tries to lick the beater when there’s raw egg in the mixture, resulting in more batter in his mustache than in his mouth while you try wrestling the spatula out of his grip.

You go through the oatmeal raisin motions absentmindedly; a master at your craft. It frees up brainpower to reminisce, and you sort through a mental file cabinet to find your favorite memory of baking with Bradley.

--

“I want to try the vanilla,” Bradley reaches for the teaspoon in your hands, and you jerk it away, thankful that it isn’t full of the brown liquid yet.

“Absolutely not,” You laugh, “Brad, it’s gross by itself. It’s like eating straight cocoa powder, it’s meant to be mixed in with something.”

He pouts, he actually pouts, a man of 36. The expression has his mustache hanging over his lower lip and you can’t help but giggle at it, leaning in to kiss the prickly hair on his face.

“You’ll have a cookie to eat soon,” You promise him, dumping a teaspoon of vanilla extract into the mixing bowl. He plays satisfied with your answer, but when you turn your back to fold the mixture in on itself with a spatula, you hear rustling behind you, then the click of a cap, and a muffled gag.

“I told you,” Your voice is sing-song-y, and you turn amusedly to watch Bradley duck under the sink’s faucet, rinsing his mouth out of the bitter taste. He’s scowling when he comes back up for air, water dripping from his mustache as he crosses his arms.

“I thought it would be good.” He mutters, and you nod, humming as a bit of batter smears over your thumb from the spatula.

“That’s because you didn’t listen to me,” You lament, “I know everything, Brad. You should just listen to me, always.”

“Oh yeah? Alright, share some wisdom with me, Almighty One,” He teases, pushing off of the counter to join you at your own, “What should I do?”

He moves with his arms crossed, standing just close enough that you know the only answer you can give.

“Mm,” You pretend to deliberate, really leaning into it with a few contemplative taps at your chin, “Kiss me.”

He gasps dramatically, which is the way that he does most things, “Excellent idea. You really do know everything.”

“Mhm,” You nod, craning your neck up as Bradley leans down to kiss you, “I told you. Listen to me all the time.”

“I will,” He promises, “Quick, tell me we should have sex.”

“Bradley!” You gawp, an incredulous laugh oozing out from your chest, leaving behind a snail trail of joy, “You’re insatiable! We’ve already gone twice today.”

“Mm, can’t help it,” He tsks, backing you into the counter and kissing you once more. His lips press firmly to yours, his hands at your waist caging you into his embrace, “Honey, you taste much sweeter than that vanilla shit.”

--

When you come to, you’re putting the cookies in the oven. You’re alarmed at how zoned out you’d been, but evidently you hadn’t burned the place down, and you shut the oven door, setting a timer on the microwave. You tackle the dishes next, using the time that the cookies bake to tidy up your work station. The dough comes easily off of the mixing bowl and the melted butter drips over your fingers before you scrub it away, still slightly warm from the microwave. There’s only a few plates in the sink that you hadn’t dirtied, and you wonder if Bradley had washed and dried dishes while you were away. Or maybe this was it, four plates of food in two weeks. You’d been treating yourself that way, but it’s heartbreaking to know Bradley had, too.

You try warding off your incoming bout of sniffles by retreating back to your bedroom, choosing a new outfit to wear to the hospital. If you show up in the same thing, Bradley might worry about you, and you don’t want him thinking you were too sluggish to pull yourself together for him. You’re hurt, wounded and scarred with lashes over your heart, but he’s the one with the broken ribs and the lost memories, so you need to play the part of the strong one; the uninjured one.

He can’t know you’re hurting in case he asks why.

Your shower is quick, and you try not to think about Bradley in case you succumb to the urge to cry. Of course, it’s impossible to chase the thoughts from your head, and the feeling of your fingers scratching shampoo through your scalp turns into the feeling of Bradley’s. The hand that slides down your side suddenly isn’t your own anymore, it’s a memory of his. A ghost of him, a whisper against your skin of ‘I promise, baby. You won't lose me’.

You hope more than anything that promise stays true.

You get yourself ready to go with more zeal than you’ve felt in the past two weeks. You’re taking the bus today, to cut down on gas money, and you’re sure you’ll spend the whole time worrying. You’re nervous about seeing Bradley, but it’s a few minutes past eight-thirty and you’re sure if he’d regained his memories, Carole would have notified you. Beyond the nerves you’re almost excited to pretend to be his girlfriend again, excited to live in the fantasy life you’ve created to preserve his peace of mind. You never thought you’d love to lie to him.

You’re much more put together today when you greet the receptionist, and you're not sure you could forget the way to his room if you tried. There’s a bag of the oatmeal raisin cookies hidden in your purse and you slip into the room just as a doctor leans over him to take his temperature.

You adore the way Bradley smiles at you. His eyes meet yours as you stand in the doorway, previously cautious and now elated that he seems to like you still. His face lights up and he calls, ‘Baby,’ alerting the nurse to your presence.

“Miss Mitchell!” The woman greets you, the one who’d brought Bradley’s dinner last night. 

“Hi,” You gush, a laugh bubbling up in your chest that’s made of pure elation. It’s a sickly sweet sound, one that you thought you’d never be able to make again after leaving Bradley. You rush to kiss him when the nurse leans away, scribbling down his temperature on his chart.

He lifts his hand to cup your cheek when you kiss him and the tears that line your eyes are happy ones; there’s still time. There’s still time to soak in his love before he remembers, there’s still time to lose yourself in this fantasy.

You take a moment to breathe after the kiss, doing so against his lips. He does the same, and you bask in each other’s presence, noses brushing and foreheads pressed together. Skin-on-skin, love-on-love.

“His heartbeat really did speed up,” Carole marvels, and you scramble to greet her, guilty that she’d slipped your mind in the rush of emotions you felt.

“Hi! Hi, sorry,” You stammer, wrapping her in a hug while she waves away your apologies.

“No worries, baby!” She squeezes your shoulders, beaming at you. You’re sure she’s thrilled you showed up, and you know Bradley is too from the way he grabs for your hand when you sit by his bed. He’s always been a touchy guy, his hands are never idle, but he’s never been quite this clingy before. It’s good, it helps ground you, and it’s what you need after a two-week bender in a motel.

“Brad,” You coo, unable to resist kissing him again when he turns his head to face you in the bed. He looks more comfortable today than he had yesterday, no more breathing tube or pale skin. There’s dark circles under his eyes, but you’re sure he’s still shaken up from the crash, and you’ll make sure he gets to sleep nice and early tonight.

If you’re able to.

Once you’ve kissed him you dot smaller ones across his face, heart soaring at the gentle laughter that spills from his lips as you do so. You kiss his nose, his cheeks, his chin, the space beside his eyes that’s wrinkled from years of laughter, and when his pretty brown eyes flutter shut, you go for the eyelids, too. You savor each one because you know it could be your last, and when he strokes the back of his hand along your cheek, you lean into the touch.

“Pretty girl,” He hums, and you feel your cheeks get hot. Newly showered, you felt more put-together than you’d been before, but you’d spent the past two weeks in a pigsty of your own creation, so the compliment means more than he knows.

Apparently, he feels your cheeks grow hot, too. His fingers pick up on the warmth and he laughs again, this time only a normal amount of raspiness clinging to the sound., He’s hyper-affectionate, taking his chance to dot kisses over your features for a change. The giddiness in your chest as his lips press to your skin, mustache prickling it, makes it feel like your heart will burst. You feel undeserving as he showers you with the affection you’ve missed so much, but you’re greedy so you take it anyways, and you wouldn’t be surprised if Carole was taking pictures of you in secret.

“I have some good news,” The nurse reports, and you turn at her voice. She’s angled towards Carole, obviously having meant to leave you and Bradley be in your couple’s reverie, but when she notices that she has your attention too, she speaks to the group.

“Nothing abnormal was documented during your stay here,” She reads off of her chart, “It’s just the concussion and the broken ribs, which is remarkable for the accident you were in. You’re very lucky, Mr. Bradshaw. There was some smoke inhalation from the crash site but that’s not a major issue anymore, and if everything remains stable until dinnertime, you can go home tonight.”

“Oh!” Carole squeals, clapping delicately with her hands in her lap, “That’s fantastic!’

Bradley seems equally pleased, smiling wide, and it takes a lot of willpower to mirror his expression. He knocks his nose into your cheek and you feel his grin against your jaw, so you bring a hand up to scrub through the hair at the back of his neck.

“That’s great,” You conclude weakly, blaming the lull in your voice on being so close to Bradley and not wanting to talk too loud. Carole eyes you nervously, though, trying to mask the worry in her eyes with a smile.

“You should still rest,” The nurse advises, “Those ribs won’t be healed for close to a month, maybe more. And you can sleep through most of the concussion, too. What’s good about going home is it’ll be familiar to you, and it might help trigger those memories you’ve lost. They’re still not back?”

“Nope,” Bradley shakes his head, keeping it pressed to yours, “I got nothin’.”

“Alright,” The nurse hums sympathetically, tucking the chart into a cubby by the door, “We’ll bring lunch at around one, Mr. Bradshaw.”

“Thank you!” Carole calls after the nurse as she leaves, then she stands in her flowy skirt, wrapping her cardigan tighter around her shoulders.

“Miss Y/N,” She beams, “Bradley’s already had his breakfast. Have you eaten?”

“Uh, no,” You shake your head, “Not yet. Are you going to get something?”

“I am,” She nods, shouldering her purse, “Would you like some hospital pancakes, baby doll?”

“Here,” You stand, but Bradley grabs your hand, keeping you close to his bedside, “I can-”

“You can sit down,” Carole narrows her eyes at you, teasingly menacing, “Sit your butt back in that chair and be with your boyfriend, honey! I can manage two to-go boxes.”

“Thank you,” You gush, settling back into your seat and squeezing Bradley’s hand. He doesn’t let up on his heavy grip until you’re planted in your seat, and even when he does loosen his fingers he still holds you. Carole winks at you when you leave, and Bradley’s attention is solely on you the second the door shuts.

“Y/N,” He murmurs, and sometimes you forget your name isn’t baby or honey around him. You turn, now a little more nervous to be there now that your buffer is gone.

His big brown eyes are oozing their signature sweetness, a golden glint in them under the lights of the hospital room. He looks healthier now, even though you know his ribs hurt, and you’re oh-so-happy to have your Bradley back.

“I missed you,” You confess, and his face breaks into a grin. He nods, leaning up to kiss you, and you close the gap so that he doesn’t have to strain his probably sore muscles.

“I missed you, too,” He breathes, and you kiss him over and over and over again until you think you might be stealing the breath from his lungs. You let up, if only to keep him healthy, otherwise you’d never stop.

“I wasn’t sure when you were coming,” His lips close momentarily around your lower one while yours frame his top in a sweet peck.

“The cookies needed time to bake,” You lament, your mouth slightly dewy from his kiss, “Sorry, babe. I would have come faster, I- I should have gotten up earlier, but-”

“You’re here now,” He cuts off your worries, the heated skin of his face pressing against yours like he’s trying to stick to you, “That’s all that matters.”

“Yeah?” You hum dazedly, drunk on his love, “What about the cookies, do those matter?”

His eyes widen in consideration and he tilts his head to the side, mouth scrunching in a thoughtful frown, “Yeah, those matter too. Oatmeal raisin?”

“Oatmeal raisin,” You promise, digging through your purse, “Are you still on the hospital diet?”

“Honey,” He declares, sounding like his father's son as pride prickles his mustache, “I’d eat your cookies even if they killed me. Lay one on me, sugar.”

You snort at his cocky drawl, withdrawing a cookie from the bag in your purse. You break a piece off, hand-feeding him like his arms are still weak.

“Speaking of sugar,” You muse, stealing a bite of the treat for yourself and speaking with it pinched between your teeth, “I was thinking about baking together earlier. It was awful being alone, there was no one to eat the sugar out of the bowl.”

“Or drink the vanilla extract,” He cracks, and you laugh with glee.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking of!” You gush, taking his hand once more and squeezing it, “You gagged.”

“I don’t know! I just thought it’d taste good! I love vanilla,” He laments, only fuelling more laughter from you. 

“Yeah, well you got a lot of it,” You chuckle, “Anyways, it was weird not having you there. I had to do the dishes all by myself.”

“Poor baby,” He croons, half sincere and half teasing. He strokes a hand down your cheek that you yearn to kiss, but it goes by too fast, “How’d you manage?”

“I thought about you,” You confess, and some of that amusement in his eyes dims, giving way to complete and total admiration.

“Yeah?” He breathes, incredulous like he's twelve and he can’t believe his crush actually likes him. He’s always had that sort of puppyish aura about him, like you’re not just his girlfriend, you’re his best friend, and he’s always happy you’re along for the ride. It’s probably why he holds your hand so frequently, like he is now.

“Yeah,” You nod, flipping his palm in yours and tracing over the lines etched into it, “It’s not home there without you, Brad.”

“We go back tonight,” He smiles, keeping his voice low so that it doesn’t shatter the serenity around you, “Together.” You notice a sheen of tears over his eyes and you fall in love with him all over again, unable to hold yourself back from admiring how much he loves you. You really, really don’t know how you fucked this up.

“Yeah,” You croak, smiling weakly down at his hand instead of into his eyes, “Together.”

“Breakfast,” Carole sings, propping the door open with her foot as she steps inside. Your heads turn in sync, and you see her holding two plates, both covered with plastic lids. “Miss Y/N, three pancakes for you, and there’s syrup for days.”

“Thank you,” You rush to help her, and some piece of your heart stays in Bradley’s palm when you drop it. You suspect you won’t get it back unless he forgives you eventually, or maybe he’ll keep it even if he does. You trust him with it, he’ll take care of it.

You wish you'd offered him and his heart the same courtesy.

Carole hands you your breakfast and takes a seat on Bradley’s opposite side, caging him in between his two girls.

“You want some, baby?” Carole croons at Bradley, but he shakes his head.

“No thanks, ma,” He clears his throat, turning to face you with a puppy-eyed look that he’s had mastered since age three, “But I would love another bite of cookie?”

“Oh, take it,” You grumble, handing over the baked good for Bradley to devour, “But if your blood sugar rises, or something, it’s not my fault.”

“Won’t tell a soul,” Bradley promises, a mouthful of oatmeal raisin already impairing his speech, “Thanks, honey.”

“Mm-hm,” You nod, your mouth similarly stuffed with food. The pancakes are good, considering they came from a cafeteria that also serves tuna and jell-o.

“Y/N, baby,” Carole calls just as much sugar in her voice as is in her breakfast, “Pass me that syrup?”

She’s asking for a container you’ve got in your hand, half-empty. She doesn’t want to open a new one and waste the contents, so you pass it over, but a drizzle drips off of the side and lands on Bradley’s chin. 

He rears his head back as it falls, but he can’t burrow far enough into the pillow to dodge it. You squeal through your mouthful, swallowing quickly and painfully to rush out an apology you’re sure he doesn’t care about receiving.

“Sorry, Brad.” You curse your clumsiness, grabbing for a napkin but getting a better idea instead. You stand and lean over him to kiss the syrup off of his chin, feeling his face split into a grin while your lips are still attached to it. You can't keep a smile off of your face either, licking your lips clean of the stickiness.

“Cuties!” Carole giggles, just as giddy of a grin on her face as is on yours and Bradley’s. You’re sure she’s ecstatic to see you getting along so well, glad to know your acting isn’t just that.

“I was telling Bradley earlier,” You speak disjointedly through a mouthful of syrupy pancakes, “When I was baking his cookies, I was thinking about the times we’ve baked together. Wanna tell’er what you did, Brad?”

“Oh,” He groans, “No. Not fair, baby, I’m bed-ridden. I’m dying,” He sticks a protective hand over his ribs, now magically unable to lift his head from the pillow, “You can’t tell embarrassing stories of me to my mom.”

“I didn’t! I offered you the chance to tell it,” You roll your eyes, wary as you hear a nurse pass by the door. Bradley’s cookie is in plain sight, and he stuffs it into his mouth for safekeeping as the footsteps pass. No one comes in, though, and he struggles to finish his mouthful.

“Oh,” Carol gushes, “Somebody tell me! I wanna know, y’know I love teasin’ you, Brad.”

“Mom!’ He gawps through a mouthful of oatmeal, “Rude!”

“What’s rude is talkin’ with your mouth full,” Carole scolds, swatting him on the shoulder, “Swallow first, mister.”

“He ate-” You start, but Bradley lunges for you with impressive agility, twisting his torso to the side to clamp a hand over your mouth. You laugh, long and loud and brash while Bradley tries to muffle it. In his haste to silence you he tries saying ‘No!’ but he’s still got a mouthful of cookie, and the crumbs that don’t get caught in his mustache rain over your legs.

You’re still laughing. It’s messy, it’s gross, there’s half-chewed cookie on your lap, but Bradley’s holding you close, his strong arms around your head while he keeps a tight grip on your mouth. He’s laughing too, chest shaking as he tries powering through the mouthful of food that he’s got. Finally he swallows, but he doesn’t let go, only blows fruitlessly at the crumbs littering your pants.

“I’m sorry,” He pants, short of breath from chuckling, “If you hadn’t been so hellbent on embarrassing me, I wouldn’t have spewed raisins into your pancakes.”

“Gross! Okay!” You laugh uncontrollably into his palm between giggles, kissing at the skin there, “Okay. You win.”

He lets up only when you stop struggling, letting yourself sink into his embrace no matter how uncomfortable. A thought prods at the back of your mind like a lightning rod, sending a jolt of pain down your spine when it reminds you that this isn’t real. But you push it away, you don’t let it paralyze you, and your smile never falls.

“I’m sorry,” You hum to Bradley, while Carole watches you with amusement dancing in her pretty eyes, as well as in her movie star smile, “I just thought your mom would have liked to hear. That’s all.”

“She would,” Bradley nods, leaning back in his bed, finally at ease, “That’s why you can’t tell her.”

“You’re no fun,” She groans, and you finish up the last of your pancakes, gathering all of the trash (and cookie crumbs) to put them in the can. You have to let go of Bradley’s hand to make it across the room but when you’re by the door you stay there, your boyfriend’s eyes trained on you like a hawk.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” You reach for the doorknob, then, while he can't reach you, “Carole, he ate vanilla extract.”

The nurse down the hall gives you a strange look as you rush to shut the door on both Bradley’s indignant shout and Carole’s gleeful giggles.

“Does he need help?” He looks at you skeptically, and you shake your head.

“We’re teasing him,” You brush the nurse’s concerns away, “Where’s the gift shop?”

True to your word, you stop by the bathroom, but your real destination is the gift shop. There’s a stuffed bear inside with fur the exact caramel shade of Bradley’s hair, and you only wish it had a mustache. Otherwise, it’s identical, flight gear on and aviators over its eyes. 

“Hi,” You greet the cashier at the counter, handing over the bear and a book you plan on reading to him in your downtime, “Just these.”

While she rings up your purchase you hear the sliding doors behind you open, and you turn to see your dad and Nick enter. Their faces light up at the sight of you, and when the cashier gives you back the bear, you show it off to them.

“Just gotta get it a mustache,” Nick tugs softly on one of the bear’s ears, “Now that’s a good lookin’ bear!”

“I was gonna get’im a movie to watch,” Your dad beelines for the DVDs, but you pull him back.

“Dad,” You murmur, walking him and Nick towards the door, “He can just use his phone. Everything here is way too expensive.” You throw a kind smile at the cashier like you hadn’t just insulted her trade, “Thank you!”, and lead the way back to Bradley’s room.

The elevator ride almost goes sour when Nick tries pushing all of the buttons at once. You’re not sure how Carole has survived living with him for this long, but you swat his hands away with an incredulous shout.

“Don’t! I wanna get these back to him,” You beg, bear and book in hand, “I’ll bet he’s so bored.”

“You seen him already?” Your dad raises a brow, and you nod.

“Carole’s there, too,” You hum, “We just finished breakfast.”

“Does he ‘member anything new?” Goose asks, and that little lightning rod comes back, tazing your brain, burning one word into the matter there; liar, liar, liar. All of a sudden the elevator is too small, and you’d rather be anywhere but.

“Nope,” You shake your head, turning to face the doors of the elevator that ding, “Nothing.”

“Bradley!” Nick cheers, seeing his son alive and well, “Made it through the night?”

“Barely. Spent more time on my phone than I did asleep,” Bradley scoffs, and your heart skips a beat, not in a good way. Again you wonder if he’s found mystifying evidence of your breakup, an unfollow on instagram or a deletion of date nights from the calendar.

You’re sure he would have brought something up if he was confused, but you’re sneaking around, and it makes you paranoid enough to believe everything will fall apart at a moment’s notice. You have no peace, not when Bradley isn’t holding you.

“Well you’re going home tonight,” Carole reminds him, stroking over his cheek fondly, “You’ll get some good rest there, Brad.”

“Hey, alright!” Your dad whoops, “They’re cuttin’ you loose?”

“After dinner,” Bradley nods, “They said if nothing weird happens I can leave.”

“Congrats, Brad.” Nick claps him on the shoulder, standing in front of the seat you’d abandoned to go get his gifts.

His gifts!

You fumble with the bag in your hands, pulling the bear out first and passing it over.

“Oh, baby,” Bradley laughs, admiring its miniscule flight gear, “Bear’s almost as handsome as me.”

“Nah, a little more.” Pete squints at it, “It doesn't have that ugly mustache.”

“Hey!”, Father and son rage in unison, and Nick slaps your dad’s arm hard enough for Bradley, too.

“Uh, Carole,” You murmur, but the soft sound catches Bradley’s attention anyways. He’s drawn to you like a fly to honey, stuck in every last drop of your sweetness.

“I need to ask your mom a favor,” You smile down at Bradley, brushing hair away from his eyes, “Can we slip out?”

“Okay,” He hums skeptically, “What is it?”

“It’s a surprise,” You drag your voice out dramatically, leaning down to peck at his forehead. His skin is warm to the touch, and feels comforting against your lips.

“We’ll keep’im busy,” Nick declares, taking the book that you hand him, “Want me to read to you, Brad?”

“No.”

“Too bad! Ooh, Little Women. Wanna do voices with me, Mav?”

You and Carole step out before Nick or your dad could pull out any high-pitched giggles, and Bradley’s mom looks at you worriedly.

“What is it, baby doll?”

“I need help,” You confess, “If Bradley’s coming home tonight, he’s gonna notice a hell of a lot of stuff missing from our place. I just took everything I could grab and I ran,” You recall, dry swallowing at the thought of the boxes piled into your motel room, “I can’t put everything back by myself, and I- I don’t want to force you to help, but my dad and NIck can’t know, and-”

“Slow down, sugar,” She hums, reaching out to rub a soothing hand up and down your arm, “I’ll help you. What do we got, clothes and shoes?”

“And books, and toiletries, and... puzzles.” You concede drearily.

“Baby,” Carole arches a brow, looking almost sympathetically at you, “You brought puzzles with you?”

“I thought I’d be bored!” You reason, shoulders stiff to your ears, “But I haven’t had much of an appetite for puzzling.”

“Alright, I’ll help you,” She promises, “How long are we gonna need, honey?”

“A few hours,” You shrug, “We can carpool to base, I’ll pick up his Bronco, and we can head to the motel I’ve been at to get my stuff. We’ll need the extra space in the back of his car.”

“Okay! Okay,” Carole gushes, and you think she’s almost a little exhilarated by this spy operative, “Let’s stay for lunch, then we’ll go. We’ll say- uh, the house needs cleaning!”

‘Perfect,” You rub at your temples, “Thanks, Carole. And- and we’ll buy party decorations,” You snap your fingers, “I told him we were out here talking about a surprise, so we’ll throw a little welcome home thing tomorrow, have cake or something. That’s our alibi.”

“Got it! I’m off to the bathroom,” She heads down the hallway, “Get back in there!”

“-told you, I’m Jo!” Your dad is standing squared to Nick, eyes narrowed and shoulders tight, “It’s not fair that you get to be everyone!”

“Well if you did the voices right, I wouldn’t have to take over everything,” Nick huffs, “Tell’im Brad, that was a shitty Beth impression!”

“Both of you suck,” Bradley drawls, his eyes tracking you intently as you slip back into the room, “Baby, you okay?”

You shake off any residual nerves from your scheming with Carole, nodding as light-heartedly as you can, “Yeah! Yeah, Brad,” You take your seat beside him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tight, “I’m okay.”

He doesn’t look like he believes you. He's always good at reading you, and everything about you right now is a lie. You smile at him, leaning in to kiss his cheek, but he doesn’t react like you want him to, he still doesn’t believe you. He studies you when you pull away, and you laugh in defeat, “I promise, I’m just exhausted from all of this. But that shouldn’t matter, I wasn’t the one whose jet crashed! As soon as we get you home I’ll be fine.”

That seems to work, clearing away the worry swirling in Bradley’s honey-colored eyes. He nods, smiling softly, “Yeah, me too.”

He takes your hand, and you’re starting to wonder how you’d ever survived without holding his. You hadn’t held hands this frequently even when you’d been together, not that Bradley knows there’s a difference. Your heart aches for the man beside you, how shaken up he must be to cling to you like a lost puppy.

While Nick and Pete argue you feel Bradley’s fingers slip from yours, and it’s such an unexpected motion that you turn to watch him. He’s looking intently at your hand, though there's an absent-minded air about him, and your stomach drops when he ghosts his rough thumb gently over your ring finger. 

“Brad?” You murmur, trying to keep from choking up, “‘Love you.”

He smiles, eyes trained back on yours and full of tenderness, “Love you too, sweetheart. Where’s my mom?”

“Bathroom,” You drop your eyes down to his hands, studying his own bare ring finger. You hope you get to see it decorated one day.

“Do you want me to read to you?” You look back up at him, your nose nearly bumping his cheek. Nick has left the book on the side table near the foot of Bradley’s bed in order to gesture with both hands, and you’re sure they wouldn’t notice if you lit it on fire where it sat.

“I’d love for you to read to me,” Bradley laughs breathily, “I haven’t been hearing your voice much lately. Not like I used to.”

“I know,” You lament, hoping your voice doesn’t tremble. You know he means unobscured, private, without beeping in the background and the ever-present threat of a nurse coming in to kick you out, but you hadn’t heard Bradley’s voice in weeks, so you understand the internal yearning.

“Come here,” Bradley suggests when you fetch the book, offering up the right side of his bed. It’s small, nothing you wouldn’t attempt at home but something you don’t want to risk in the hospital.

“No, it’s okay, Brad.” You shake your head, trying to pat the blankets down around him but he doesn’t let you, reaching for your thigh.

“No, I don’t wanna hurt you!” You insist, standing when he tries dragging you into the bed with him, “It’s okay, Brad, let’s just sit. We can be closer when we’re home, but for now I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

He looks crushed. Really, truly crushed, his brown eyes holding such a vulnerable look in them that you feel like you’ve just punted a puppy across a football field.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” You repeat, swallowing thickly as tears prick at your eyes. You lean down to kiss his forehead, “I’m scared, Bradley.”

You’re scared about more than just that. You haven’t held him in weeks, nor has he held you. You’re afraid that you might never recover from this, but if he wraps his arms around you, buries his face in your hair and holds you close, you know you never will. You’ll spend the rest of your days living in regret, and your self-preservation instinct is kicking in again.

“Don’t be afraid,” Bradley murmurs, though he doesn’t need to be quiet now that Nick and your dad have stopped bickering. They’re stealing sneaky glances at the two of you, acting like their sunglasses stop them from being noticed even though their heads are turned towards you.

His words strike something within you that he didn’t mean for them to. He’s spoken unknowingly to your outstanding promise with yourself, that you won’t run away because something is scary. And your promise to Carole, as well, that you’ll make her son feel loved before he remembers that love wasn’t enough to make you stay.

“Bradley,” You breathe, book in one hand as you use the other to stroke through his hair. You’re standing at his bedside and he takes advantage of your proximity, sitting up and off of his pillows to lean his head against your stomach. 

You’re glad he can’t see your face, because tears rush from your eyes in seconds. He’s a sweet man whose brain operates on love first, and thought second, so when he hooks his arms around your waist and nestles his face into your tummy, you know it’s his instinct to hold you. 

At the sight of your tears the other men in the room decide to take their leave, smiling sadly at you while you comb your fingers through Bradley’s hair. 

“We’ll give you some time,” Your dad whispers, but Bradley can hear just fine, “Bye, honey.”

You aren’t able to offer them a wave in response, but they know you appreciate it. 

Once more the sterile hospital room is inhabited by only you and Bradley. Souls intertwined, tangled in some places and parallel in others, you hold him, stroking through his hair and praying he never picks his face up out of your stomach. There’s snot threatening to run down your lip but you don’t dare sniffle at the thought of ruining the moment, keeping your chest deathly still where it yearns to shake with sobs.

“I love you,” You whimper, dropping the book to cage his head to your belly, “I love you, Bradley, I- I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” He speaks into your stomach, and the sound vibrates through your body, warming you with a tingly sensation like the one you’d gotten from your very first kiss with Bradley.

You’re sure he knows you’re crying now, now that your voice drips with tears and your hands shake in his scalp. He doesn't break away, though, only tugs you closer, keeping his face nestled to your body as he pulls you into a sitting position on his lap. You’re mindful of his broken ribs, but there’s nothing wrong with his thighs, so when you land on top of them, you let yourself rest there. 

Bradley’s wormed his nose against your cheek, no longer snug in your stomach but flush to your face instead. He holds you like he used to, before you spooked and ran, before he fell out of the sky in a blaze of flames, before anything in your life was complicated. He holds you like he held you when you were just Y/N and Bradley, cradling your face to his chest and tucking his chin over your head.

“You’re hurting, too,” He murmurs, rocking you ever-so-slightly back and forth as you sit sideways on his lap. He keeps you tucked to his chest, smooths your hair with one hand and holds your waist with the other. 

“I’m the one that went down but you’re the one who got that phone call,” He moves his hand from your hair to your back, scratching aimlessly there, “You’re allowed to be upset over that. You don’t have to pretend like nothing is wrong just because I’m in the hospital. I don’t want you to pretend to be strong if it’s only gonna make you weaker. Talk to me, honey, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I can’t!” You wail, clutching his hospital gown and praying you aren’t hurting his ribs, “Bradley, I- I can’t tell you. I can’t do that to you, not here, not now. I’m scared,” You weep, “I’m really scared, Bradley.”

“Don’t be. You’re okay,” He promises, pecking a soft kiss against the crown of your head, “Baby, you’re safe with me. You don’t have to be scared of anything. Of talking, or feeling, or hurting. That’s what I’m here for, angel, to talk with you, to feel with you, to hurt with you. That’s what love is, honey, and I love you, you know I do.”

His voice wobbles slightly on the last fragment of his sentence, and you don’t think you can handle seeing him cry. You’re terrified out of your mind, but determined just the same not to run, and it’s stuck you in this awful paralyzed state. All you can do is hold Bradley, all you can do is let him hold you, and hope that his memories never return.

“I don’t want to stress you out,” You mourn, picking your head up from his chest to press it to his face instead. You want to fuse yourself to him, so that he couldn’t cast you away if he tried.

“I’m stressed about whatever you’re not telling me,” He laughs sadly, a soft huff of air from his chest, “Baby, it makes me stressed knowing you’re shutting yourself in like this. Knowing there’s stuff going on up here that you don’t want to talk to me about.” 

He taps your head, then smooths his hand down the nape of your neck to rub at your back.

“Tell me,” He begs, voice raw with despair, “Please, angel, tell me what you’re feeling.”

You owe him the truth. Concealing the truth was one thing. Sneaking around, covering up behind his back so that he didn’t notice anything peculiar was a preventative measure. But now he’s asked for your honesty, now it’ll be lying if you don’t tell him. Now you’ll be lying to him, really and truly lying to him, and you can’t bring yourself to do it. You choose honor this time, sniffling hard and bracing your hand on his chest so that you can look him in the eyes if you feel brave enough.

“Bradley,” Your words roll off of your tongue with the weight of steel, and you have to force them out of your throat to get them to go at all, “I want to be honest with you. But I’m scared-” Your face crumples, and you fight to right it, “But- but that’s not fair to you. It’s not fair for me to shut you out, You’re right, you-” You falter, the pitch of your voice wobbly as you take a deep breath, “You love me. And I know I can be honest with you.”

“You can,” Bradley promises, stroking his knuckles over your cheek. He stares into your eyes, and you stare into his only to get a last glimpse of their sweet honey-like hue.

“You should know,” You drop your eyes, unable to confess while looking into his, “I love you, Bradley. I always have, and I always will.”

“I love you, too,” He promises, “Now what’s the matter, honey?”

“It’s-”

“Mr. Bradshaw?” A nurse steps into the room, and instantly the moment is shattered. There’s no picking up the pieces, no glue in the world strong enough to repair the bravery you’d mustered up to be honest with Bradley. 

He looks annoyed at her interruption, something you know he wouldn’t normally feel towards anyone doing their job, but he refrains from snapping at her.

“Yes?”

“We need to run some vital tests. Blood sugar, heart rate, breathing, the like. After they’re cleared, we’ll know if you can return home or not.”

From his hold on you, you gather that there’s nothing Bradley would rather do less in the world than let you go, and there’s nothing you’d rather do less than let him, but you peel away from him reluctantly, standing where you’d been tucked into his lap. He settles back against his pillows that you’re sure are cold now, and you tuck the blanket beneath his thigh to keep him warm.

He ducks his gaze and you see tears lining his eyes that you want to wipe away, but he grabs for your hand again, and you hope that’s enough for him.

The nurse pokes and prods at him, reads machines and scribbles their information down, and the door opens once again before she’s done conducting her tests. Carole, Nick, and Pete step back through the doors, smiling sheepishly at you. You have a sneaking suspicion that Nick and your dad had held Carole off from coming back to the room while you spoke, which you’re grateful for. You just wish you'd had a little more time.

“Alright,” The nurse claps, smiling cheerily like she hadn’t just shattered your moment, “You are in good shape, Mr. Bradshaw. Your blood sugar is a little high,” She notes with a furrowed brow, and you shoot a knowing glance at Bradley, “But everything else seems right. Your ribs should heal within a few weeks time, and once you get back home and see familiar surroundings, your memories should return. All you need to do is rest, once I get these processed and signed off by the doctor, you’ll be good to go!”

“Thank you,” Carole gushes, while Bradley just nods with a tight smile on his face, jaw tight in irritation at the four unwanted parties in the room.

“Goin’ home, big guy.” Nick grins at Bradley as the nurse makes her leave. He claps his son on the leg and this time Carole doesn’t intervene, “What’s the first thing you’re gonna do?”

“Shower,” Bradley rasps, “There’s ash in my hair.”

“Not anymore,” You showcase your hands, dust and ash clinging to the spaces between your fingers from when you’d run them through Bradley’s hair. 

He laughs at the sight, “Still. The second thing on my list is sleep, and I don’t want to get anything on the sheets.”

“Good plan,” Carole beams at her son, hooking her arm around yours, “Baby, we should head out. We’ve got lots to do for this surprise of yours,” She gloats at Bradley, then turns back to you, “But you should wash your hands first, honey.”

“Okay,” You nod, eager to get out of a situation you’d been so courageous in only minutes before, “I’ll- um, get my stuff.”

You bend towards your purse, taking the bag of cookies out, “If your blood sugar rises and lands you in here for another night,” You warn, “I’m never making these again.”

“Yes ma’am,” Bradley nods, but your dad is the one to take the bag, not him.

“Don’t steal them,” You narrow your eyes at your dad and Nick, “And don’t get caught feeding him any. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am!” They echo Bradley, standing at attention. You scoff, turning back to Bradley and leaning down to meet him where he lays back on his pillows.

“I love you,” You hum, and he’s already reaching out for you before you can touch him. He sits upright, grabbing for your hands and tilting his face upwards to beg for a kiss.

“I love you, too,” He mumbles, speaking lowly against your lips as you kiss him. When you pull away he wants more, keeping your hands firmly in his grip when you try to leave.

“Bradley,” You let out a soft laugh, but you kiss him again anyways, knowing he’s still reeling from being a second away from finding out the truth, the extent of which he’s not prepared for.

“It’s okay,” You whisper against his lips, pressing your forehead to his, “We’ll talk later.”

”Yeah,” He nods, arching up into your embrace even though he knows he has to let you leave.

He calls out again before you leave, “Love you!” And you repeat it with a sad smile on your face, letting Carole take your hand while Nick and your dad sit at Bradley’s bedside. The last you see of him is his fading grin as you wave goodbye before the door shuts, and you’re in the hallway.

“Something happened in there,” She gushes, misplaced excitement shining from her eyes like a sunbeam, “I just know it! He was all lovey-dovey when you left, even moreso than usual. He really didn’t want you to go, angel.”

“I almost told him,” You mutter as Carole leads you to the elevator, nerves churning your stomach.

“What?” Her smile drops in surprise, and she stomps to a halt on the tiled floor. She presses the button, and when the elevator dings she ushers you inside.

“He asked me to be honest with him,” You recall, sick at the thought of how close you’d been to losing him, “And- and he was holding me, Carole, like he used to. And I couldn’t help it, I just- I wanted to tell him everything, I couldn’t stand lying to him and pretending nothing was wrong. But I- I don’t know if I can do that again. I don’t know if I can tell him the truth. I tried, and we got interrupted, I mean- isn’t that a sigh? Some sort of clue left by the universe to tell me to wait a little longer?”

“Baby I don’t think the universe is sendin’ you clues,” Carole looks sympathetically at you, “I think you’re lookin’ for reasons to run away again. I know I’m the one that told you to pretend, but that boy can read you like a book, and if he’s catchin’ on, maybe you ‘oughta give it up. I saw him in there, honey.” The door dings and slides open, and she takes your hand to lead you outside, “There’s nothin’ he wouldn’t forgive you for. He was clinging onto you like a leech, and I think he’d understand you were scared. Might not like it, but he’d understand.”

“He keeps saying that I’ll never lose him, or- or that he loves me, or that I can tell him what’s bothering me,” You gesture with your free hand as you walk to the parking lot, “And- and it feels so perfect! Like he knows exactly what I need to hear. Like I could tell him and nothing would change. But everything would change, and- and I don’t want that,” You suppress a sob as you reach Nick and Carole’s car, pulling open the door to the passenger’s side. 

She stashes her purse by your feet, stuffing the key into the ignition, “Baby, everything’s already changed. He just doesn’t know that. But he will soon, and once he does, he’s gonna realize why you’ve been acting so weird. If you were pullin’ it off, I’d say keep going. If he wasn’t asking questions, you could keep this up, ‘cause you’d be doing him a favor. That was the whole point, baby, to let him down nice and easy, give him a bit of time to adjust to the crash before confessing about the breakup. But I should’ve known he’d realize you were lyin' to him,” She scoffs, checking her mirrors, “That boy would notice you’d changed your haircut from just your voice on the phone. He knows you too well, honey, and if he’s askin’ all the right questions and you’re giving him all the wrong answers, that’s gonna stress him out. And that’s doing the opposite of what we want. If this is just gonna make things worse, I say tell him. But-” She backs out of the spot, en route to base to fetch his car, “Not yet. Wait until you’re home. Then he’s in a familiar environment, you can kneel by the bedside and grovel if you want,” She waves a hand in the air, “Just be honest with him baby, if it’s what he’s askin’ for.”

She barely lets you mull her words over before she starts again, “I think it’s a good time. You told me that when you left, you wish you hadn’t. And you’ve spent the last two days showing that to him, even if he doesn’t know that’s what you’re doing. He knows you love him, and I think he’ll forgive you if you confess that you were just scared of losing him. ‘Cause you can’t fake love like that, honey.” She eyes you through the mirror, “You can pretend y’all never broke up, but the way you love him, that’s not pretend, and he knows that.”

“I’ll tell him tomorrow,” You sniffle, “If he doesn’t know by then. I- I know I have to, even if it’s scary.”

“Atta girl,” She gushes, nearly flooring it at a green light in her excitement, “I’m proud of you, baby.”

“Don’t be,” You grumble, ‘Not yet. Not until I do it.”

“I know you will,” She decides, “You’ve never lied to me before.”

“Actually,” You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, “I have, once.”

She narrows her eyes, gives you a sideways glance as she makes a turn, “Oh, really? And when was that?”

“Uh, when we were in high school, I told you Bradley and I were staying at my place while my dad was gone,” Your face twists into an involuntary smile at the memory, “We went to Vegas.”

“What?” She shrieks, almost stomping on the breaks, “Vegas?”

“It was just for a night! And we didn’t gamble,” You scoff, “They wouldn’t let us into any casinos.”

“Ooh, you two,” She seethes, but it’s happened so long ago that she can’t be mad, not really, “Surprised y’all didn’t get married down there.”

“Actually,” You laugh, “We tried. But you weren’t there to sign off on it, and we were only 17.”

She shares a laugh with you at the memory, pulling into the security checkpoint outside of the naval base. You have to pass your ID over her, and you explain that you’re just picking up your partner’s car. They let you in, but you don’t think they like your presence very much, so you get the car and go as quickly as you can.

“It’s the motel just off the freeway,” You gesture in the direction of the place you’ve been staying, “We’ll load up the Bronco and meet back at our place.”

“See you there, babydoll,” Carole grins, already headed for the exit.

You roll up your window just as your phone buzzes, and you put the call on speaker while your phone balances on the cupholder.

“Hello?”

“Y/N,” Bradley’s voice bleeds through the crackly speakers. Then, like an attached toddler their first night away from mom, “I miss you.”

It’s just what you need to hear after your gut-wrenching conversation with Carole, and you croon while waving to the security officers on the way out, “I miss you too, Brad. I picked up your car. Didn’t want her sitting all alone on base.”

“Thanks, babe,” You can hear the grin in his voice, “Is my mom still with you?”

“No, she’s driving herself,” You merge lanes, brain on autopilot as you head for the motel, “And don’t ask what we’re doing, it’s a surprise.”

He scoffs; you’ve caught him, “Fine. They gave me lunch. It’s the same as yesterday.”

“Poor baby,” You coo, feeling more at home in Bradley’s Bronco than you had in your half-empty house, “I’ll make you something good for breakfast tomorrow, baby. Eggs, pancakes, waffles, sausage, bacon, fruit, whatever you want to eat.”

He takes a pause, then, “I have something inappropriate to say. But your dad’s still here, so I can’t.”

You let out a bark of bewildered laughter, especially when you can hear your dad’s voice in the background as he groans.

“I get the idea,” You promise him, and you hear Bradley huff a soft laugh into the speaker. You almost want to record the call, just to keep the sound forever.

“When are you guys coming back?”

“I don’t know, Brad,” You lament, tailing Carole as she heads for the freeway exit, “Hopefully before dinner. But if not, I’ll definitely be there when you get discharged, and I can drive you home.”

“And we can shower,” Bradley adds on to your sentence, eliciting another disgruntled sound from your dad, “And sleep.”

“And we can shower and sleep,” You promise, chest feeling light at the night’s plan. You’re pulling into the motel parking lot now, the dingy sign colored more in spiderwebs than in neon.

“I’ve gotta go, Brad.” You put the car in park, grabbing your phone and switching speaker off, “I love you. I’ll see you later, okay?”

He’s hesitant to answer, and you wish you didn’t have to hang up. You know he’s still uneasy about the way that your talk ended earlier, but he finally speaks up, “Alright. Love you, too.”

“So much,” You hum, “Love you so much.”

“So much,” He agrees, more of that audible grin in his voice, “See you later, angel.”

“See ‘ya,” You hum, and it doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would to hang up, not after that.

Carole’s standing ready at the strip of doors, and you pull the small, rusty key out of your pocket. There’s nearly ten boxes stacked in your room, and you prop the door open with one as you gather anything that isn’t packed away.

You haven’t changed clothes much since being there, nor have you been keeping up with your hygiene as well as you should be, so the clean-up process feels like a day's worth, not two week’s worth. But you’re thankful for the easy pickup as you load it into a half-empty box, hauling it out the door and to the Bronco.

Packing the boxes goes fast when you work with Carole. It had been much more of a struggle to cart two at a time from your place to the motel room, but with a little maneuvering, all nine boxes fit snugly between her car and yours.

“Alright,” You dust off your hands, picking at the edge of your nail, “You ready?”

“Actually, you go home,” She decides, “And I’ll go to the party supply store. I’ll pick up some ‘Welcome Home’ stuff, and when I get back I’ll help you with the rest of the boxes, and we can set up together.”

“Perfect,” You heave a sigh of relief, “Thanks, Carole.”

“Of course, baby!” She seems to have a never-ending supply of optimism, one that you’re thankful for because you seem to harbor the opposite.

Hauling your boxes back into the house is unexpectedly the easy part. What’s harder is putting everything back, filling in the gaps in the bookshelf with your own volumes, stuffing the dresser with the clothes you’d chosen to take with you.

When Carole gets back you’re dragging your thumb over the shirt you’d taken off of your pillow, ready to fold it and destroy the evidence of its association with your two-week disappearance. She peeks into the bedroom, expecting to find you hard at work organizing your novels, and instead sees you sitting on the bed looking like you’re going to puke.

“Baby,” She hums, “What’s the matter?”

“He put this over my pillow,” You sniffle, staring down forlornly at the object that had offered comfort to Bradley when you hadn’t, “He slept with it.”

“Oh, baby,” Carole whispers, standing behind you and rubbing your shoulders, “He loves you. Isn’t that a good thing? Don’t you think it means everything’ll turn out okay?”

“What if he doesn’t want me back?”

For the first time, you say it out loud. You’ve insinuated it, sure, thought about it, but you’ve never said it yet. Not out loud. You voice the fear that’s been bouncing around like a balloon in your head, popping it and feeling the aftershocks flow through you. 

She’s quiet for a moment, not knowing what to say any more than you do. But she bends down, wraps her arms around your shoulders and hums, “He will, baby. He’s been sleepin’ with your shirt this whole time, he wouldn’t do that if he didn’t miss you.”

“But even if he misses me, I still hurt him,” You sniffle, “I- I left, is missing me enough for him to want me back in his life? What if I went too far? What if we can’t come back from this? What if I lose him forever, Carole?”

“He kept my ring.” She murmurs, her voice the calm to your storm. 

“What?”

“He kept it. Even though it wasn’t on your finger, he didn’t give it back to me. And he wouldn’t dare give that to anyone else, Y/N. It’s your ring, he knows it. That’s why he kept it, ‘cause he still wanted you to have it. He loves you even if you did hurt him, baby,” She sniffles, and you feel bad that you’ve made her cry, “That’s what love is. Sometimes you hurt each other, but if it’s love you find your way back. And what you’ve got is the strongest love I’ve ever seen.”

Your silence is enough of a reply, and you’re glad because it’s all you can muster. You can’t find the words to thank her, to tell her you hope she’s right, to beg to whatever deity exists for mercy. All you can say is, “I don’t wanna take it off,” As you stroke a finger down the shirt over your pillow.

“Wear it,” She suggests, pulling at the sweatshirt you’re wearing, “Put that on underneath it, baby. He won’t notice, and you can have it on you as a reminder that he misses you. Maybe it’ll give you the courage to tell him.”

“Okay,” You sniff, a stray tear drying sticky on your cheek as you stand. She turns you around and pulls you into a real hug, and you let her squeeze you before going to the bathroom to change.

The shirt smells like Bradley now that he’s slept with it for two weeks. You’re sure you’re just immune to your own scent, and that he could still find traces of it to lull him to sleep at night, but wearing it now feels just as comforting as you bet it felt for him to sleep with it.

When you wander out of the bedroom you find Carole in the living room. She’s standing on your coffee table with her right leg, and her left is on the arm of the couch. She’s pinning a banner to the wall, ‘Welcome Home Bradley!’.

“Hey honey!” She beams at the sight of you in your shirt, you’d forgone the jacket to not overheat while moving things around. 

“Do you need help?” You watch her drive a pin into the wall with her thumb, and she shakes her head as she reaches down for another one, “No, I’ve got this. You just take care of your boxes, I can handle the party.”

“Yeah, you get the fun part,” You tease, and she laughs.

“Darlin’, I wasn’t the one to take my puzzles and run. Now go put ‘em back, I’m sure they’re the first things Brad’ll notice are missing when he gets home.”

You head back into the bedroom without any complaints. It’s hard to put everything back. No, it’s nice to put everything back. What’s hard is pretending it was never gone in the first place; what’s hard is lying.

You slide a lone book into its place on the shelf, one last spot left beside a photo album. Your fingers brush over a gemstone on the cover and you tug at the hefty spine, catching the jam-packed book before it can fall.

“Wow,” You breathe, barely aware that you’re speaking out loud. The cover showcases Bradley pressed up against the hospital’s nursery glass, peering in on a very sleepy baby you snoozing in her bassinet with Carole holding him up. You’d been born shortly after Bradley, not even a year, and he’d been very excited to meet his new best friend at the hospital.

A flip to the first page finds you in your dad’s old apartment, sleeping in your crib while Bradley’s hand wraps around the bars he’d pulled himself up on. Then the next page showcases a photo of him in the crib, curled up in the space by your feet while you sleep peacefully in your own spot.

You take the photo out of its sleeve, flipping it over to read the inscription you know by heart on the back: Bradley’s attached to Y/N at the hip. Won’t sleep anywhere else.

The next photos are more of the same. Bradley holding you on the couch, a gummy grin on his face at the baby in his arms. His hands barely bigger than yours, handing you a toy fighter jet. Tummy time on a play mat, where he’s holding a rattle just out of reach to get you to crawl like he’d seen your parents do. A shot of you tugging on his wispy hair, then a shot of Nick dragging a crying Bradley into his lap while your dad holds your previously clenched fist open. They tell their own story.

You’d been fated best friends from the start, but as you age in the photos, your relationship changes. All of a sudden there’s puppy love in your gaze when you reach your tween years, braces in your mouth and hearts in your eyes. There’s a picture of Bradley teaching you how to skateboard, and you're holding his hands for dear life. You distinctly remember a fiery flush to your cheeks in that moment, and you’re glad the camera hadn’t captured it. There’s New Year’s Eve in your matching pajamas, you cradled in Bradley’s arms like they’d make you pose every year since you’d come into the world. It was cute when you were kids, then it was embarrassing when you were teenagers, and now it’s cute again. In the photo you’re looking at you can’t be more than fourteen, and you know the second the shutter clicked on the camera, you’d scrambled out of his arms like they were burning you. 

You flip through more pages, watching your relationship blossom from friends into lovers. All of a sudden you’re holding hands, you’re matching outfits, and you’re kissing when you think no one is looking. Then there’s the famous picture of Bradley on his 18th birthday, glaring at the camera with a box of condoms in his hands, courtesy of his dad. Funnily enough, your dad shares Bradley’s expression in the background. The inscription on the back of that one reads: Just making sure he’s safe! Don’t want any grandkids, not while I’m still in my glory days - Goose.

That New Year’s Eve photo is special. It’s you still cradled in Bradley’s arms like always, but you’ve leaned up to kiss him, and he’s leaned down to kiss you. You distinctly remember it being the first time you’d willingly kissed on camera in front of your parents, and the giddy smiles you’d forced into makeshift puckers are clear as day in the photo. 

The matching pajama sets you’ve outgrown together are all stored in a box marked ‘sentimental’, not one that you’d taken with you when you’d left. You have a current pair, red and black buffalo print bottoms with fuzzy black tops, and you plan on asking Bradley to wear them tonight.

You haven’t noticed, but a smile has grown on your face, etching itself into your features as you relive your love story. You flip through family vacations, holidays, birthdays, sports games, barbecues, a million family events that Bradley joined you at. There’s never any of you apart, even though he’d been moved around for his career, because no one has ever thought to take a picture of one of you without the other. There’s no Y/N in this book, there’s no Bradley, there’s only Y/N and Bradley, and that’s what you want to be for the rest of your life. You want to fill out the rest of this book with aging photos, clearer in quality while the old ones yellow. You want to stuff this book until the bindings rip, you want to look back through it one day in a rocking chair beside one of Bradley’s own, faces wrinkled and hair grayed. Your story can’t end here.

Your phone buzzes on the bed, and you drop the photo album there while you check your message. No surprise, it’s from Bradley.

- The doctor signed off, I can go home after dinner, which shouldn’t be too much longer. How’s it going over there?

That’s great! You type back, biting a smile off of your face as you respond. It’s residual from looking through the photos, but you have to remember, you’re not there yet. It’s going good. Your mom is scary agile.

- What’s she doing?

Can’t tell you ;)

- Damn! Thought I had you there. Your dad’s eating one of my cookies :(

Tell him I said to leave you alone!

- He says you’re not the boss of him.

Tell him your mom said to leave you alone.

- He says she’s not the boss of him.

Tell your dad to tell him to leave you alone. She’s his boss.

- My dad’s eating one too :( 

Those assholes! I’ll make you more, baby ❤

- I love you best. ❤

I love you too baby ❤

The lingering fear of a breakup - a real one this time, one that doesn't rewind itself amidst burning jet fuel - is stuck in the back of your mind, and you suspect it will be until you finally confess. But the photo album and Bradley’s messages have combined to lift your spirits, and filing your shoes back into their places doesn’t weigh you down as much as you suspected it would. You try to make them look haphazard, jumbling them with Bradley’s and turning a few of them upside down. You two are notorious for having out of control shoe collections, Bradley’s sneakers and your own shoes constantly tumbling out of the closet like a cartoon.

 By the time the sun starts setting early on your California dream you’re nearly done, there’s just a few last garments to slip into your closet. You do so while wrestling with the clothes that are already in there, a hefty collection that leaves little room for the dress you’re trying to wedge inside. Nevertheless, a too-full closet is better than a half-empty one.

“Sugar?” Carole calls from down the hallway, hopefully not precariously balanced on any furniture this time, “Nick says they’re just serving Brad his dinner.”

You finally manage to set the clothes right on their hangers, panting slightly as you withdraw from the closet, “Okay! I’m almost done. We have a lot of clothes.”

She laughs, “Yes you do! You should eat somethin’ before we leave.”

“There’s no food here,” You sigh, “The fridge is empty. I’ll have to go shopping later. I’ll just stop for fast food on the way.”

“Party’s all set up,” Carole nods, jerking her head back towards the hallway, “If you keep the lights off in the living room tonight, he won’t see it until tomorrow.”

“Okay. Are you coming over to celebrate?”

“Yeah, I was thinkin’ for breakfast,” Carole nods, “We can bring food?”

You laugh huffily, “I wasn’t kidding about there being nothing in the fridge. Anything’s appreciated, thanks, Carole.”

“Anytime, baby,” She beams, but reconsiders with a slightly furrowed brow, “Although, I hope this is the only time.”

“Me too,” You scoff, “Alright, let’s head back.”

True to your word, you pull through a fast-food drive-thru on the way back to the hospital. Carole knows Nick’s order, and you know your dad’s, hopeful that they’ll be tired of hospital cuisine and yearning for a burger instead.

However, when you get there, they’re waiting in the lobby, Bradley sat between them. You hadn’t realized how early they were letting him out, and Carole takes the bag of food from you so that you can properly hug Bradley. He stands the moment he sees you, eyes pooling with such urgency as he tries to respect the no-running rule of the hospital. You struggle just the same, and the moment you’re within arms reach of each other, tears start flowing. Bradley yanks you into his chest, almost tipping you forwards and himself backwards with the momentum of his hug. His chin nestles straight over your shoulder, as does yours to his, and it’s the kind of hug you get from him after a long deployment, maybe even more desperate now. His breathing is ragged beside your ear, but not from his medical conditions, from the desperation clogging his lungs. His fist is tight in the back of your sweatshirt but the fabric is loose on you, and it’s not a tight enough hold for him. His fingers scrabble for the shirt beneath the hoodie, gripping onto both garments and keeping you closer than you ever thought you could be with Bradley. Your hands immediately encircle his shoulders, and your fingers find purchase against the baby hairs at the back of his neck. You scratch through the ones at his nape, hearing him sniffle sharply where his chin rests on your shoulder. The hand that isn’t fisted in your clothes is tight to your hip, gripping you so hard that you can feel his nails through the jeans you’re wearing. It’s not painful, it’s just firm, and its strength is reassuring. It’s grounding to hug Bradley again, unobscured by breathing tubes, hospital beds, or prying nurses.

You hear someone’s phone camera sound off, but you’re far from discouraging it. In fact, you’re going to ask whoever it was to send you the photo later. The hug turns into an embrace, one where you sway lightly from side to side, anything that isn’t you or Bradley fading into the background. Your eyes are screwed shut but tears still cascade down your cheeks, melancholy waterfalls that drip off of the curve of your chin and stain Bradley’s t-shirt. He’s dressed in what he’d been wearing beneath his flight suit, the material thankfully not ripped or burnt thanks to the coveralls. You take the lead, pulling back, but he keeps the same level of contact with you. When your chin slips from his shoulder he grabs your face instead, using it to keep you pressed tight to his body. His eyes are teary themselves, streaks of the shimmery stuff down his cheeks and probably in his mustache, too.

“Hi,” You croak, smiling giddily through your tears. 

He smiles, though the chubbing of his cheeks nudges a few more tears out of his eyes, “Hi.”

You smear them away with the palm of your hand, and use your thumb to rid him of the ones clinging to his undereyes. His hands are on your cheeks, too, and he tries mirroring your ministrations, but his thumbs are too shaky to do so. For fear of poking your eyes out, he clamps his hands over your cheeks again, content with holding you while your tears run over the hills and valleys of his fingers.

“You’re standing,” You marvel, ‘I thought you’d be in a wheelchair.”

“It hurts a little bit,” Bradley admits with a slight grimace, and you back away like you’ve been struck. He doesn’t let you get far at all, dropping your face to tug you back by your waist, “-but I’d rather break another rib than let you go.”

“Sap,” You accuse, and Bradley laughs.

His lips twist into a sheepish smile, “Maybe. You can be my tree. I’m stuck on you.”

You sniffle, brow furrowing, “Huh? ‘Cause of the sap thing?”

“Yeah,” He laughs, “Isn’t that what it means? Sticky and sweet like tree sap?”

“I don’t know,” You breathe bashfully, your voice rife with part confusion and part sheepishness, “I guess that makes sense. But I’ve never been called a tree before.”

“I’ll work on my flirting,” He promises, stroking his thumbs up and down your sides in soft, soothing motions, “Can we go home now?”

You nod, “You should hug your mom first.” Only then does Bradley remember that you’re not the only other person in the room, turning in your grip to see your mini crowd of adoring onlookers.

He chuckles, “Sorry. Hi, mom.”

“Hi baby,” She gushes, letting him squeeze her in a hug. He’s much more gentle with her, out of longing for you, not disrespect.

Nick reaches over to ruffle his hair and your dad nudges you sideways, “Happy to have him back?”

“Yeah,” You gush, a breathless whisper, “Nervous, though,” You admit, “What if he slips in the shower, or something? Or- or some freak accident happens and he doesn’t wake up?”

“He will,” Your dad slings an arm around your shoulders, squeezing you close by your shoulders, “He’ll be alright, kid. And hopefully by tomorrow he’ll remember everything, maybe look at some pictures tonight to jog his memory. Show him stuff you took of these past few weeks, the places you went or the food you ate.”

You don’t have any pictures of your pitiful motel room, nor the candy bars you’d raided the minifridge for, but you wouldn’t show them to Bradley if you did.

You nod, breaking away when Bradley searches for you after his hug with Carole, “Thanks, dad.”

“You gonna be okay getting settled tonight, Brad?” Nick asks, already bringing a french fry to his mouth from the bag in his hand. Your dad has your food as well as his own, and you take your bag back from him as Bradley nods.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine. Thanks, guys.”

Everyone says their hasty goodbyes, and your hug with Carole lasts a second longer than you hope anyone notices.

“Tell him.” She whispers against your ear, the words a feather light breath, “He loves you.”

“I’ll feed you in the car,” Bradley grabs the bag of food from your hand when you nudge him towards the exit, “Can I have fries?”

“You’ve been on a diet of chicken and potatoes for two days,” You take the hand that he offers you, curling your fingers around his, “You can have the whole burger if you want, Brad.”

Bradley stops short in front of the bronco when he sees it, “There she is!”

“She’s here,” You laugh, “Perfect condition. The air freshener’s still good.”

“Poor baby,” He heads for the passenger’s seat, swiping a hand over the hood of the car on his way, “She probably thought we forgot about her.”

He settles comfortably in the passenger’s seat, though you’re sure it feels awkward to be there in his own car. He throws his head back against the seat and sighs, long and loud, a noise he would have made fun of his dad for making mere years ago.

“Comfy?” You glance sideways at him, your food in his lap while he rests against the seat. He nods, reaching for the bag as you start up the engine.

“Here baby,” He calls, popping two fries in front of your mouth just before you turn out of the parking lot, “Fries.”

You carefully bite them out of his hand, tipping your head back to get them fully into your mouth. You mumble ‘thanks’ through them, and you’re not sure if he can make out what you’re saying, but you hope it’s obvious.

“I can’t wait to get in bed,” He groans, “I know it’s only been a few days, but I can’t remember being there for three weeks.”

“It’s cold without you,” You hum forlornly, checking your blind spot before merging, your hands stiff on the wheel. Your words leave more of an aftertaste on your tongue than the fries do, and it’s an unpleasant one. They mean more than you let on, and your brain is clouded thick with the worry of sleeping in a cold bed for the rest of your life. 

There’s a moment of silence that Bradley lets follow your words, then he promises, “I’ll be there tonight. And every night after that.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Burger?”

He laughs, leaning in his seat when you turn, “Burger.”

He holds the food up to your mouth, letting you take a bite that smears sauce over your mouth. He takes a napkin, cleaning up after you and dabbing all of the mess away. You’re absolutely certain that if you weren’t on the road, he would have kissed it off. You make a mental note to eat just as messily when you get home, for experimental purposes.

“Can I have a bite?” He asks tentatively, and you turn at a red light to smile and nod.

“‘Course, Brad. I meant it, if you want it you can have the whole thing.”

“I don’t want you to go hungry,” He hums, taking a chunk to the left of your bite mark, “Thanks, babe. Fuck, that's good.”

“Did they finish your cookies?” You exit the freeway, muscle memory guiding you home.

Bradley speaks through a mouthful of burger, unpleasant to hear but somehow endearingly domestic, like he’s not worried about looking handsome for you. “Yeah. I got one more, but they mowed through the rest.”

“Those bitches,” You hiss, and he laughs, “Okay, we’ll bake tomorrow. But I’m keeping the vanilla away from you.”

He scoffs, “Always with the vanilla. I drank it one time!”

“One time is enough for a lifetime ban!” You insist, turning onto your street, “Okay, you shower and I’ll eat, then we can get into bed.”

“Sounds good,” He drawls, stuffing your food back into its bag and swapping it to you for the keys, “I’ll be quick in the shower.”

“No rush,” You croon, holding the hand that he offers you as you take on the front walkway together, “Don’t hurt yourself because you’re too eager to get into bed. It’ll be there even if you take your time.”

You’re bound for the kitchen and Bradley the bedroom, but you remember you have to keep the lights off so that he doesn’t see your decorations. You send him off with a kiss at the hallway, intent on watching him leave before setting up at the table.

“Goodbye,” You hum, standing with your lips puckered in the doorway of the hall, “If you need help, just yell for me.”

“Will do,” He nods, puckering his own lips and pressing them to yours with a cartoonish smack! You watch his ginger walk towards the bedroom, his hips off balance as his ribs ache in his chest.

Once you’re in the clear you flick the kitchen light on, choosing to stand at the counter instead of dirty the table. You busy yourself with your phone, tapping on an impatient text from Carole: ‘Have you told him yet?’

Not yet. You write back, munching on a french fry, Not in the car. He didn’t ask, either.

- Don’t lose your nerve, you can almost hear the critical tone of her voice just by reading her message, The longer you lie, the more he’ll worry about you.

I know. I’ll tell him.

- ❤️

“Babe?” You hear Bradley call over the stream of the shower, “Babe!”

You abandon the last few fries in the container, stuffing your phone into your pocket to rush to his aide. Horror flashes through your mind, visions of Bradley bleeding down the drain or hunched over in pain.

All you see when you burst into the bathroom is him looking like a puppy in the rain, a pitiful pout on his face as water runs down his face and through his mustache.

“I can’t wash my hair,” He laments, “It hurts.”

You can’t help but coo, “Oh, baby. Lemme help you.”

“Thanks,” He mumbles, “I already have the shampoo.”

True to his word, there’s shampoo smeared over his hands. Apparently he’d tried his best, but couldn’t move well enough with his broken ribs. You try not to laugh at his misfortune, especially because he’s in pain, but he’s just too cute to ignore. You try to muscle down the thought that this might be the last time you ever shower with Bradley, even if you’re not really in the water with him. You wet your hands, then wipe the shampoo off of his palms, reaching for his scalp.

“I’m sorry I’m making you stand in front of me naked and we’re not having sex,” Bradley huffs, “Believe me, if I thought I could, I’d be jumping you right about now.”

“It’s okay,” You chuckle, muffling the sound into Bradley’s forehead that you kiss chastely, “We should hold off on sex, at least until your ribs are healed.

Or until you know the truth.

“They don’t hurt too bad now,” Bradley muses, “But when I raised my arms to shampoo, it was really bad.”

“I’ll reach for things for you,” You promise, scrubbing shampoo into his scalp. It knocks loose leftover ash from his accident, and it flows down the drain in a swirl of gray bubbles.

“Oh, fuck,” For not having sex, Bradley’s making some awfully pornographic sounds, “That feels good.”

“I’ll bet,” you hum, “Can’t imagine having ash in my hair for that long.”

“It’s not pleasant. Oh god, babe,” He groans, “Hurry up and rinse it out, I’m gonna fall asleep standing up.”

“Okay! Okay,” You laugh, scrubbing in one last circle at the nape of his neck then reaching for the showerhead, “Have you washed your body already?”

“Yeah,” He murmurs, letting the water flow through his hair and rinse the shampoo out, “Oh my god, this is what heaven feels like.”

“Come on,” You smile, reaching for a towel, “Do you need help drying off?”

“You just wanna feel up my thighs,” Bradley accuses, and you laugh good-naturedly.

“Nope. Ass.” You admit, “But if you can do it yourself, then go ahead.”

“No!” He catches you as you stuff the towel to his chest, pulling you back towards the shower, “Uh, I need help. I think you should wipe down my very toned chest and my tight butt.”

“Oh, really? That’s what you’re having trouble with?” You snicker, and Bradley nods proudly.

“Yep. Can’t get my hands over my shredded back either, such a shame.”

“Alright, you flirt,” You scoff, “Turn around.”

You start on his back, and of course, it’s very fit. It’s nothing you haven’t touched before, in fact, you’re surprised there’s no scars there from your fingernails, but this is more intimate, more romantic, more sweet. This is love, not lust. You scrub the towel over his skin, wiping the water droplets away and rubbing into his tight muscles. You take extra care to dry off the small of his back, smoothing the towel down over his ass, too. Despite his earlier cheekiness, he doesn’t make any comments while you’re working. You wrap the towel around his thighs, pressing a kiss to his hip as you bend down to dry his calves off. He stands still to let you get his ankles dry, and you tap his foot to turn him around.

Now he’s looking down at you as you towel off his calves again, getting any splotches of water you may have missed before. You dry out the soft tuft of hair at his groin and move to his chest before you can tempt yourself, not wanting your first sexual encounter after a life-threatening plane crash to be a blowjob up against the shower wall. Especially not before you tell him the truth.

Now that you’re on your feet you’re face-to-face, though yours is bent slightly to track any water droplets you might have missed on his shoulders. You towel off his underarms carefully, making sure not to aggravate his muscles that are already bleeding pain through his gut. You swipe the towel over his neck, and in doing so, you’ve set your hand just below his chin. It’s as natural as breathing to slide it up his jaw, and he’s already staring at you, breath shaky as you return his gaze.

He moves first, but you take his cue right away. He leans in to kiss you and you’re happy to press your mouth to his own, not caring that there’s a drop of water leftover between his fingers that transfers to your skin when he cups your face.

“Baby,” He whimpers, desperate and longing, “I- I missed you.”

There’s tears beading at the corners of his eyes, and you manage a sad smile when you wipe them away, “Why, silly? I was only gone for a few hours.”

“I know. I just- I’m real shaken up,” He admits, “I- I don’t even remember the crash and that’s the scary part. I almost died and I’ve got no clue what happened. I feel lost, like- like I’m still stalling or something, just waiting to crash.”

“I’m so sorry,” You croon through your own tears, “Brad, that must be so scary, I- I can’t even imagine.”

“I just need you,” He breathes, clutching at your shoulders like they’ll recover his plane, “Just don’t leave, please.”

“Sweetheart,” You coo, equally endeared and saddened by his sudden panic, “We're not at the hospital anymore, there's no visiting hours. Why would I leave? We're home, we’re gonna get changed, and then we’re gonna go to sleep. You’re safe now, okay?”

“Okay,” He nods, voice a mere whisper, “Okay, let’s sleep.”

“Clothes first,” You remind him through a cheeky grin, and the expression scrunches your tear-stained cheeks, cracking the stiffened substance, “We’re sleeping.”

“Alright, alright,” He laughs as you poke at his bare chest, “Will you help me? I managed to bend over and slide my t-shirt off but I don’t think putting something on will be as easy.”

“Mhm. I was hoping,” You reach for the sets of matching pajamas, holding them up enticingly, “You’d match with me?”

He laughs, the sound thick and genuine in his bruised chest, “Of course. I won’t look as good as you, though.”

“Yeah, my mustache is better,” You sigh, scratching a nail over your upper lip that’s morphing into a grin. You whirl on him with his shirt, helping ease his arms into the fabric and stretching the neck hole over his head so that he doesn’t have to bend down. All in all, it works, even if the neckline is a little stretched. He doesn’t need help with his pants, but you feel compelled to do it anyways, sliding his boxers and then the soft material up his legs and tying it tight at the waistband.

“Thanks, honey.” He murmurs, bending at the waist and sitting on his side of the bed, “Fuck, that’s nice.”

“Lay down,” You push against his chest, helping him recline against his pillows, “I’ll be right back, B.”

You change quickly, too eager to crawl into bed beside Bradley to care that you’ve left one bite of burger and a few lone fries on the counter. Ants be damned, you’ll clean up tomorrow. When you emerge from the closet you wriggle happily beneath the covers next to Bradley, flicking the light by the doorway off so that all that’s left is your bedside lamp.

When you settle on your pillow he’s already looking at you, and the tip of his nose bumps your own. You melt into a girlish giggle, something that a teenager would produce after a particularly bad pickup line and a single red rose.

“Hi,” You gush, overjoyed to have him so close again. You kiss his nose in your fervent enthusiasm, and he smiles sleepily against his pillow.

“Hi,” He hums, reaching for your waist and pulling you close, “C’mere.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” You stiffen, but he molds your body to his anyways, “Brad, be careful.”

“I will be! I said it before, you can’t break me. Just let me hold you.”

You croon a sad sound as he wraps you in his arms, a sound of longing, of adoration, of grief. He clocks it as sweetness, though, and holds you close. Your face is buried in his chest and you feel his lips move against your scalp when he speaks.

“Y/N,” He starts, and your heart rate spikes at just your name, “About earlier-”

“Tomorrow.” You blurt, anguish rising in your chest, “Brad, can we- can we talk tomorrow? I’m not trying to hide from you,” You promise, but you’re nestled into his chest and muffling your voice, “I trust you with the way that I'm feeling, I just- I just want to sleep. I want to breathe for a minute. And we can talk tomorrow, is that okay?”

He takes a moment to deliberate, really, truly thinking about it. While he does so, your hands tighten in his shirt, desperately clinging to him. But eventually he nods, disjointedly so into the crown of your head, “Okay.” His hands tighten around your waist as he speaks, and you melt into his embrace, scooting impossibly closer. “Okay, honey, we’ll talk tomorrow. Let’s just sleep.”

Settling into his embrace has never been so easy. Since the moment you'd been in them for the first time only hours old in the hospital, you’d known his arms were made for holding you. They’ve been yours for as long as you can remember, even longer than that according to the photo album you’d skimmed through earlier. Bradley had been the third person to hold you, second only to your parents. Sure, he couldn’t remember it either, and Nick and Carole were probably doing most of the work keeping you balanced in his little lap, but the point is, he was made for holding you, and you were made for being held by him. Your face tucks so naturally under the curve of his chin and your lips press even easier to his throat, kissing at his voice that you love so much. It comes out to thank you for the adoration in a gentle hum, one that thrums against your lips. 

His hands revel in their access to the extent of your back, brushing and roving and stroking over every inch of the space he’s granted. It’s ticklish but you don’t dare squirm, letting his fingers send miniscule bolts of electricity through your skin.

“I love you,” He reminds you as he holds you close, the sleepiness fogging his brain clear as day in his voice, “I really, really do.”

“I love you too, Bradley.” You promise, kissing up his chin to his lips. The pecks you plant there are short, sweet, and chaste, but when you’re done laying them over his face you decide that you want to fall asleep facing him, not hidden away in his chest. Sure, it’s warm and safe there, but you can’t drift off to his sweet face if you can’t see it.

Your solution is to plop your head back onto your pillow, throwing a leg over his waist to keep yourself close. His eyes are droopy, and hold all of the tender sweetness of the puppies he so often resembles. He’s clearly exhausted, and your own eyes slip shut at the sight of his struggling to stay open.

“Night, Brad.” You yawn, settling against your pillow with the tip of your nose brushing his own, “Welcome home.”

“Night, baby. Love you,” He gushes, as if you hadn’t just exchanged the words seconds prior. But it feels good, it feels right, so you say it back.

“Love you, too.” You use the last of your energy to reciprocate, sleep taking hold of you in its comforting embrace. You slip away like sand into unconsciousness, all of your thoughts about love, and life, and Bradley, and none of the horrific possibility of his memories returning. Nothing’s going to ruin this moment for you, not now.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

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[pikahlua]

Uh oh, it's sleepy grumpy Pika. Y'all know what that means, right?

It means I have no filter for my opinions.

If you're dissatisfied with the way Katsuki's bullying of Izuku is handled in MHA because you expected him to be confronted by someone else about it in some way, it's probably because you are unaware of the difference between bullying and attitudes towards it in Japan versus in your country of origin. I believe everyone would benefit from researching bullying in Japan. They do NOT view it the same way the west does, y'all.

And I guarantee when you learn about it, you're gonna find some stuff that makes you uncomfortable and horrified, because it's gonna take a while for you to get enough information to give context to a lot of the history and attitudes you'll find. AND EVEN THEN, EVEN WHEN YOU HAVE THAT CONTEXT, you're still definitely not going to like it.

However, with any luck, you'll see how MHA's portrayal of Katsuki's bullying is shockingly sympathetic and heartwarming to many people. It's because, from the perspective of a Japanese audience, Izuku was not targeted and bullied by Katsuki in the way we're used to seeing such situations portrayed in the west. Izuku was bullied by everyone. His classmates, his teachers, the pro heroes he encountered, and society in general ALL participated in the bullying of Izuku, because societal pressures to conform in Japan are MASSIVE, and that can often manifest as one form of bullying or another.

Katsuki's bullying is just the one that the story chooses to flesh out. It's the one that Horikoshi develops. Katsuki is the bully that changes his own perspective first and drastically, the one who realizes the greatness in Izuku and accepts that and comes to his side long before the rest of society can catch up. It is largely understood by the Japanese audience that Katsuki in middle school didn't seek Izuku out and follow him home every day to beat him up; Katsuki mostly ignored Izuku until Izuku would do something to remind Katsuki of his insecurities, and so he would lash out. And no one else at let's say Izuku's middle school would understand the true reason why Katsuki would lash out because what he does resembles what all of Izuku's bullies do to him: pressure him to conform. Pre-One For All Izuku stands out as different and constantly tries to rise above his position to become something society decrees he cannot be. Therefore, a significant part of Japanese society will generally approve of attempts to make him conform, even when some of those attempts are harsh and cruel and unreasonable and reactionary. MHA presents a caricature of that in the form of Izuku's middle school.

The fact that Katsuki identifies this toxic behavior in himself later in the story and decides to actively do something to change it IS the radical part. It's the piece that fits into the themes of MHA. It highlights a generally-accepted behavior in society that maybe society should rethink. It's asking for society to reconsider how it pressures people to conform, that sometimes nonconformity is good or at least should be tolerated to some degree. That's why Katsuki's story focuses so much on how his old behavior stems from fear. From the perspective of a "properly-functioning" collectivist society, pressure to conform should be done for the good of everyone in the society, not out of fear and misunderstanding. Katsuki's character arc provides one potential map for others in society to see the light and get to where he does.

And that's to say nothing of how Japan's versions of confrontation or retribution often look different from how they do in the west, that many of the forms of confrontation some people in the western fandom cry out for with regards to Katsuki sound absurd to an audience in the know. The karmic punishments Katsuki endures throughout the story are often overlooked by western readers, and is it any surprise? That readers from some societies--societies that laud nonconformity, tolerate counterculture, openly criticize the systems that be, preach about individual freedom and responsibility and justice and fairness, and watch and make movies and TV shows and other media about how victims of bullies achieve their righteous revenge--often miss how MHA doles out subtle, divine, poetic, karmic consequences for Katsuki's actions? That such readers often don't feel satisfied by MHA's dramatic ironies which serve more to guide Katsuki in a harmonious, productive direction rather than vindictively punish him and rest on its laurels as it laughs at his deserved misfortune? I don't blame anyone for feeling unsatisfied when their own societies have built up their expectations in such ways, but I do hope to draw your attention to it.

Now, does that mean you have to like and accept the Japanese attitudes about bullying? That you have to agree with the framing of pressure to conform as beneficial and productive? That, if you're triggered by the lack of overt condemnation of bullying in the story, you still have to like MHA? That, if you have personal traumatic experiences with Japan's bullying situation, you should shut up about it and accept that it's a good thing? No! In fact, I personally would hope that you don't! I think everyone should always have their perspectives on ANYTHING challenged so they can rethink and improve them, and Japan's attitude towards bullying is no exception! (And MHA actually does that in its own way!)

(And even saying that, I will always acknowledge that my perspective and opinions on this issue are heavily colored by my own experiences in life and the society in which I grew up and the ideas to which I've been exposed. This is and always will be my bias.)

But the question of what's the correct take on bullying is an entirely different beast. The question at hand here is about understanding the story and its characters as presented in MHA. If you don't come at this with a basic acknowledgement of how Katsuki's story reads to a Japanese audience in-context, you're going to be upset about what you see (which is a reasonable reaction). But I think if you're going to read a story, it's only due courtesy to understand the context surrounding its creation before you try to hold it to far-removed, foreign standards. There's a reason literature classes go over the history and context surrounding the older works they study. MHA is a Japanese story written for a Japanese audience. To focus on how it does not adhere to the typical western narrative of a bully's character arc is to miss the point entirely. If you are reading the story outside of Japan in a language other than Japanese, it is being translated so that you can read a Japanese story, not a story from your own culture. It's rude and self-defeating to expect stories from other cultures to suddenly cater to your own.

TL;DR Understanding the social context that informs bullying in MHA just might actually make the story more comprehensible and enjoyable for anyone who dares to learn about it, what do you have to lose?

#wow i thought this post would be a one-liner #meta #pika rants #anime only friendly #katsuki bakugou #linguistics fun #? #more like sociology fun

[freedomfireflies]

Ours*

Summary: The second part to Mine*

Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has arranged a phone-call with one of his most notorious enemies.

Lucky for you, you’ve got a front row seat to the show.

His cock.

Word Count: 4.1k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content, so please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞*

“How long?”

“Five minutes. At least.”

“And everybody knows the plan?”

Asher nods. “They don’t move until they have my signal.”

“Good,” Harry murmurs, glancing down at his desk, narrowed eyes finding the open file. “Sugar, are you doing okay?”

Without even looking over at you, Harry can sense the way you’ve begun to recoil into yourself. And your cheeks warm at the dominant but caring edge to his voice as you clear your throat and scoot to the edge of the couch.

“Yes,” you call. “Just…nervous for you.”

Asher smirks to himself as Harry looks up, wearing a similarly amused expression. 

“Nervous for us, huh?” Harry muses, leaning back in his seat as he crosses his arms. “What, you think we can’t handle it?”

“No. No, of course not, I just…I want you to get him,” you clarify, glancing down at your lap to avoid their entertained stares. 

“We will,” Asher tells you, rather resolutely. “Trust me, sweetheart. He’s not gonna be our problem much longer.”

Harry nods once in agreement. “Nothing to be nervous about. He’s nothing. A fucking cockroach with his head up as his own ass. We aren’t gonna let him touch you.”

“I’m not worried about me, Har,” you sigh as you stand from the sofa. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. To any of you.”

He eyes you for a moment, seemingly lost in thought before motioning you closer.

Eagerly, you make your way over as Asher side steps out of the way to make room, and once you’re close enough, Harry quickly guides you toward his desk and sits you down on top.

“You don’t have to worry about me, mama,” he murmurs as he stands and makes a home between your thighs. “M’not ever gonna leave you. That’s why I’m staying here. So I can make sure you’re safe.”

You smile as he takes hold of your face between his large palms. “I always worry about you, Har. Whether you’re in here with me or out there with them. I just…I want you to be okay.”

“I am okay,” he says calmly, dipping down to press his lips to your top one. “Right here. With you.”

Asher clears his throat.

Harry’s eyes roll. “And Asher, too.”

Grinning, you glance over your shoulder at Harry’s right-hand man, who nods his approval.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he agrees. “Sean’s not gonna lay a fucking finger on you. Either of you. I promise.”

You smile your gratefulness before glancing back at your boyfriend, whose lips are pursed.

And you know why. While he understands the sentiment, he hates promises. 

This has been an ongoing argument throughout your entire relationship. 

He thinks promises are bullshit—nothing but wishful thinking and empty declarations. Nobody can guarantee anything. Especially in this line of work. You can’t possibly swear to make sure something happens when the entire world is working against you. 

But you think promises are the only real thing to hold onto you. A trust and a deal created based on faith and understanding. No, you will never be a hundred percent certain. But you’ll try. And sometimes…giving someone your word can make all the difference.

Asher knows Harry’s aversions to the phrase, having been reprimanded for it before. But you know he’s chosen to say it now because not only does he mean it…he knows you need to hear it.

So, Harry allows Asher to make you this guarantee. Because whether or not he believes in the idea…he chooses to believe in Asher. And in his ability to keep you safe.

“So…what do you need me to do?” you ask, fingers curling around Harry’s wrists to make sure he keeps holding onto you. 

“Stay right here,” he declares. “And give me something pretty to look at.”

Your face warms at the compliment, although you know he’s not kidding. “Ha, ha.”

He merely grins as he leans in for another kiss. This one much longer and much…heavier.

Whether or not he admits it…he’s nervous. He wants to know you’re safe more than he wants air in his lungs. Wants to be able to tell you that you’re safe and mean it. 

Deep down, he wants to promise you that nobody will ever get to you.

Finding Sean is simply the first step in that direction.

And if they don’t—

The phone rings.

You jolt in place from the sudden and shrill sound while Harry leans back and meets Asher’s eye.

Asher nods, finger coming up to tap his earpiece as he mutters, “Standby.”

Your heart begins to hammer inside your chest as you look between them and get ready to slip off Harry’s desk so you can return to the sofa.

But before you can, his large arm is outstretching across your body, blocking your path while his other hand moves to retrieve the phone.

Your mouth opens, ready to ask what he’s doing, but are unable to slip the question in before he brings the headset to his ear.

In a clipped voice, he sneers, “What?”

You watch his expression as he listens to the response, secretly wishing you could hear but knowing it’s probably better you can’t.

“Figured you’d find your way back to me eventually,” Harry replies, rather condescendingly. “But I’ll admit…I am a little disappointed I won’t get to put you on your fucking knees and make you beg.” 

Another beat as Harry awaits Sean’s response.

And whatever it is, it makes his brows weave a bit closer together as his teeth start to grit. The muscles in his already strong, tan arms begin to flex beneath his black t-shirt as he grabs onto your thigh and squeezes.

And at this point in your relationship, a firm touch like this doesn’t startle you, so you merely place your hand over his and do your best to offer some comfort.

He doesn’t show any signs of acknowledgment, but you know he appreciates it as he looks over at Asher.

Asher in turn takes a moment to listen to the response from his team before nodding his chin toward Harry, finger rolling through the air as an instruction to keep the conversation going.

“I’d watch your fucking tone,” Harry seethes, leaning forward as his mouth presses into the receiver. “There is no goddamn corner of the Earth that I couldn’t find you. And when you try to weasel your way out of our fucking deal…try to undercut me, and take what isn’t yours…the price on your fucking head goes up.”

You catch Asher mouth something to Harry as a silent conversation is had through tense glances.

With that, Harry presses a button on the base, slams the phone back into the switchhook, and instantly, the speakers come alive with the sounds of shouting.

Curious, your head tilts as you look over at your boyfriend, quietly questioning his intentions.

He simply throws you a smirk and takes hold of your hips right as the ringing of a gunshot echoes through.

And then, it happens again. And again. And again.

You feel the blood drain from your cheeks as you begin to piece together the truth. 

You’re listening to Harry’s team taking Sean hostage.

There’s yelling, and cursing, and more gunshots, and pleas for mercy. You imagine they’re taking out Sean’s own men first before moving for him, and the thought makes your head spin.

However, Harry smiles through it all, cupping your cheek in his palm before leaning in to kiss you. 

You go still in his touch, unsure how to devote your attention to him when so much death and destruction is happening a few feet away.

But Harry doesn’t mind. He kisses you anyway. Takes control of you the way he’s so keen to do. He pries your lips apart and slips his tongue against yours. He moves his touch to the back of your neck to go a bit deeper and fully own you. And he grins sadistically through every second of it.

There’s some faint mumbling from the other side of the phone that you don’t hear or understand. But you do vaguely see Asher press his finger back into his earpiece as he nods at whatever is being said before turning to his boss.

“Ready,” he says as Harry hums and brushes his nose against yours.

“You still with me Sean?” Harry calls, and you swallow as you await Sean’s response.

It takes a moment for it to come, the rustling of violence slowing to a stop as a shuddering breath is heard.

“Fuck you.” The response is seethed through the speaker as Harry once again smiles to himself and rolls his head to the left so he can kiss the other side of your mouth.

“Easy,” he warns the convicted felon. “There are ladies present.”

Asher’s expression is smug and while you feel rather uncomfortable bearing witness to this side of Harry’s job, you can’t help but feel a little…thrilled.

You’ve always loved seeing him like this, although it is rare. Since he’s determined to keep you hidden away from his demons. 

But now, getting to see this kind of rage, this kind of power…you’re rather smitten.

A long stretch of silence follows Harry’s response, and he uses this time to begin trailing his free hand along your outer thigh.

His fingers dance across the fabric of your skirt before innocently slipping beneath to help guide your leg a bit further over, creating more space. 

You quickly grasp onto the edge of his desk to brace yourself as you stare at him, eyebrows flying up your forehead.

However, he simply sweeps his hand from your neck to your jaw, thumb brushing down your bottom lip.

“Do you know why…I’ve devoted so much time…so much money…to making sure that the men I do business with…are capable of doing it right?” Harry asks of Sean, his eyes on your mouth, touch once again traveling up your inner thigh as his intentions become clear. “Do you know why…it’s so easy for me…to find you? Put you on your fucking knees with a barrel to your head?”

There’s no answer from Sean. You didn’t imagine there would be. Harry merely wants an audience as he does what he does best.

Shows off.

“Because you…are fucking weak,” Harry continues in a near growl as he moves his lips to your neck and his fingers to your already damp panties. “Sloppy. Pathetic. Unable to follow a simple command.”

You swallow a whine as he slips beneath the band and finds your clit. He grazes it for only a moment before moving lower to find the pooling arousal being kept from him. 

“You underestimated me,” he murmurs, kissing just below your ear. “Underestimated what I’d do…to keep her safe.”

There’s another loud thud from the phone as Harry grins and eases a finger inside your aching hole.

“So…here’s what’s gonna happen,” he decides, waiting until you’ve actually begun to enjoy the feeling of his hand before taking it away from you altogether…and stepping back.

You just about crumble, whimpering to yourself as your nails scratch down the wooden table, and you watch him with a heavy lust.

But Harry doesn’t notice, instead nodding at his partner. “Hold her open,” he calls softly to the right-hand man, who obediently moves for you.

A tad curious, and endlessly intrigued, you look between them as Harry begins to roll up the sleeves of his nice dress shirt, stopping near the elbows, while Asher makes a home behind you.

His hands find your hips and he yanks you across the desk until your back meets his chest. Then, he leans forward so he can take hold of your legs and spread them as far as they’ll go, your muscles burning from such a stretch.

And Harry watches with a hunger you don’t think you’ve ever seen. You wonder if this has always been a secret kink of his, and truthfully…you wouldn’t be surprised.

He knows that Asher is probably scared shitless right now, terrified that if he makes one wrong move…it’s his head, next.

You imagine that’s what has Harry so awestruck. Knowing that the two most important people in his life have submitted to him. That they’ll do anything he asks. That in this instance…he has the power. The control. You’ll do whatever he tells you.

It’s probably why you’re so enamored, too. Because you know you’re safe. Every other day of your life, your safety can be called into question but now…with both of these men, you have never been more protected.

You’ll happily give them your pleasure, your body, your orgasms. Any fucking day of the week.

“I…am gonna fuck my girl,” Harry continues, once more speaking to Sean as he eyes your cunt and begins to kneel in front of you. “And lucky for you…I’m gonna let you listen.”

Your heart is in your throat with this admission, skin warming as he reaches for your underwear and easily snaps it from your hips. 

“And the second she comes…I’m gonna fucking kill you,” he finishes resolutely before surging forward and licking his tongue up your pussy.

You gasp so hard, you jolt against Asher’s chest, forcing his hands to tighten around your thighs as Harry begins. 

Your eyes just about roll back as soft, practiced licks are had across your cunt, teeth nipping at you with fervor. It’s…ecstasy. 

Sure, he’s eaten you out before. And he’s always been quite exceptional at it, too.

But never like this. Never under these conditions. Not with Asher in the room. Touching you. Holding you open. Holding you down. Keeping you still for his boss—your boyfriend—as a dangerous criminal is forced to listen over the phone.

“Oh, come on, sugar,” you hear Harry tut from between your thighs, and you look down as he glances up at you through his long lashes. “You know better than to be quiet, don’t you?”

He presses his tongue flat against you before you can respond, almost as if to ensure he’ll get the reaction he’s so desperately looking for.

And it works. You whimper as you nod, allowing the sounds to flow from you freely as you slouch in Asher’s hold.

“There you go,” Asher seems to chuckle in your ear. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

And you know he does. He’s now the only thing holding you up, keeping you from melting through the desk and onto the floor. 

Harry is quick with his work. Usually, he likes to drag this particular activity out. Work you up, leaving you hanging and desperate.

But today, he wants your orgasm. Wants that permission to kill the man he’s been hunting for weeks.

So, as the sounds of muffled grunts and pained groans continue to slip from the speaker, Harry adds two fingers into play. 

The moan you make is so loud, you can hear the echo of it through the phone. You writhe between the two men, head falling back against Asher’s shoulder as Harry’s grip in your knee tightens.

Harry knows you’re sensitive. Knows he hasn’t been able to give you the kind of care and attention you deserve. In fact, he’s had you do it yourself more times this week than he has your entire relationship.

And your own hand is fine, but it’s not him. It’s not his technique or his tongue or just…him. 

He’s the only one you want. He could be shit at it, and you think you’d still come just because he was the one doing it.

The closer you get, the more your legs shake. The more adamant Harry’s curling becomes. Until he’s stroking that one spot with so much determination that you begin to slip. 

And when he feels you slipping…he stops.

Of course, he stops.

After all, he promised Sean a good fucking.

And that’s exactly what he plans to deliver.

Harry straightens back up as you dejectedly slump into Asher, your eyelids growing heavy with longing.

He rips his belt off, the clanging of the metal sending goosebumps along your arms before he undoes the zipper. 

“Of all the fucking shit…you’ve taken from me,” Harry once again calls to Sean, a razor-like sharpness to his tone, “keeping me from my girl…has got to be your worst mistake yet.”

He takes out his cock, and the sight has you drooling. Saliva instantly filling your mouth as you eagerly watch him stroke it a few times before returning to you.

His other hand finds your cunt, fingers dragging up and down and through everything that’s collected. And the brief contact makes your hips buck up as Asher tsks in your ear and forces you back down.

Then, Harry’s touch is retreating and returning to his swollen tip as he drags your arousal down his shaft, just to watch it glisten with you.

You mewl, eyes flicking up to his as you silently plead with him to fill you. To wreck you, to ruin you, to claim you in front of everybody.

He grins.

Exactly one second manages to fit between the time that he places his hands beside Asher’s to spread you a bit further and when he’s burying himself inside your aching pussy. 

He’s not patient. Not gentle. Not kind. He knows you can fit him, knows you’ll take him, so he lets you. Lets you take him, lets himself stretch you, lets himself own you.

You groan his name as your arms fling around his neck, nails scratching down his scalp as he begins his tortuous pace. 

“Fucking missed you, mama,” Harry seethes in your ear, turning to press a lazy kiss to your cheek. “Missed this sweet, little pussy. S’always so good to me, isn’t it? Squeezes me just the way I like—”

“Please,” you whisper, rather dejectedly as the pleasure begins to consume you. Overtaking the part of your brain responsible for rational, coherent thoughts.

“So fucking tight, sugar,” Harry breathes, fingers curling around your thigh as if to steady himself. “Fucking perfect. Bet they wish they could feel you. Bet they wish they could feel how fucking wet you get for me. How fucking warm—”

He snaps forward, making you whine before he’s taking hold of your waist to drag you closer to him.

“Bet Asher would fucking love…to feel you,” Harry continues, almost condescendingly as he sneaks a sideways glance at his friend. “Bet you’d make his fucking day, mama. Bet he’s never had someone as tight as you. As fucking perfect as you and your pretty cunt. Bet he wanks off to the thought of you when I’m not around.”

You can’t see Asher’s face but from the way his touch has begun to grow heavy, you have a feeling you know exactly what he’s thinking. 

Harry’s devilish smirk returns as he presses his fingers into your clit. “Do you? Do you think about fucking my girlfriend? Think about taking her any way you want? Making her moan for you the way she moans for me?”

To accompany his comment, he shifts his thrusts up, forcing you to make that very noise as Asher exhales a shaky breath behind you.

“Know you do,” Harry tells him. “Just can’t fucking help yourself, can you?”

There’s a pause in the conversation, which you assume is meant to encourage Asher’s reply, and after about a minute…it comes.

“No,” he admits, voice thick as he readjusts his grip on your thighs. “No, I can’t.”

Harry is pleased with this, smiling to himself as he slips his hand under your shirt to find your tit and knead it in his palm. “You like watching me fuck her? Like holding her down for me while I ruin her? Like to pretend she isn't mine? But yours? Ours?”

You’d almost feel bad for Asher if you couldn’t feel how much he was enjoying this little show against your ass.

“Answer me,” Harry hisses when he’s met with no response.

“Yes,” Asher grits between clenched teeth, nails pressing crescent-shaped indents into your skin. 

Harry’s smug expression only grows as he drives his hips forward until you're keening. Then, his attention returns to you.

“Gonna come for me, mama?” he murmurs, dipping down to nose under your jaw until your head rolls back against Asher’s shoulder. “Yeah? Gonna let Sean hear your pretty little cries before I kill him? You gonna be the last thing he ever fucking hears?”

And really, you have no choice. Even if you wanted to be discreet, the way he’s got you held, the way his cock is claiming you from the inside out, the way his fingers are attacking your clit is making it impossible.

Suddenly, you feel a hand on your throat as Harry squeezes and forces you upright. “No, you look at me,” he growls. “Look at me while I fuck you, do you understand?”

You attempt to nod but his grip keeps you from doing so. Instead, you simply clench around him and make another indiscernible noise.

And suddenly, everything whittles down to right now. To this moment as you watch him disappear into you over and over again. The way your body stretches to accommodate him. The way he groans at the sight. The way little droplets of sweat have begun to bead around his hairline.

He slows his thrusts some. So he can really make sure you feel him. So he can push past your muscles and drag himself through. So he can hit the spot you need until you go dizzy. Until you’re blubbering, “Please, please, please, Daddy,” repeatedly with each practiced drive of Harry’s hips.

The name seems to snap his last band of restraint as he growls and leaves bruises behind that will carry you through tomorrow.

And even Asher attempts to ease your neediness. His thumbs brushing back and forth on your thighs as he whispers, “Easy, sweetheart. It’s okay. Just breathe, yeah? Breathe.”

You’re thankful for the reminder. You don’t think you would have remembered otherwise. In fact, you’d almost forgotten how. You don’t remember anything right now except this feeling of tightness in your abdomen. Of euphoria building within your cunt as Harry repeatedly strikes you with white-hot licks of bliss.

“Getting close, aren’t you, sugar?” Harry mumbles, kisses moving down your neck as he flicks your clit beneath his thumb. Rubbing it in circles as you attempt to squeeze your legs closed. “Oh, I know. I know, honey. Want you to wait for me, all right? Want you to wait until I’ve filled you and then I want you to come with me, okay?”

You whimper again as his hand returns to your waist, waiting eagerly for him to finally find his end.

And you attempt to help him along, hands tangling in his hair, pussy fluttering around his cock, and soft, little whines urging him closer. 

The veins in his arms are pushing against his skin as he grips onto you. As he fights the urge to just throw you down onto the floor and split you in fucking half. 

You sort of wish he would.

But that thought is dangerous. Much too dangerous and you squirm a bit harder as you wrestle with the impending orgasm. Commanding yourself not to come until he has.

And feeling your struggle has Harry’s eyes rolling back as his rhythm begins to falter and he seethes, “That’s my fucking girl,” before releasing his load.

You bask in the feel of his warm seed filling you to the brim, vaguely aware of anything else until you hear Asher whisper, “Now, sweetheart. Go ahead.”

So…you do.

The office comes alive with near-pornographic moans and whispers of names. And in the middle of it all…gunshots.

Harry’s touch continues its assault on your clit as he rides you through your first and straight into your second. Wanting you to come to the sound of Sean and his men being eliminated one by one.

You choke on a pant as he attacks your sensitive, swollen cunt. As he forces you to find your second orgasm of the afternoon. As Asher continues to keep you spread, the warmth of his body, and the smell of his cologne overwhelming each of your senses.

It’s too much, too good. You feel powerless under the weight of this one moment. Of Harry, and Asher, and their promise to put you first. Keep you safe. Make it worth it.

The second one hits you so hard, it feels like a slap across the face, and Asher releases his hold on you so you can collapse into Harry’s chest and bury your face in his neck.

And Harry is more than happy to have you in his arms once again, caging you to his body as he murmurs his praises and gently slows his pace.

He kisses the top of your head, runs his fingers down your spine, and tells you how proud he is.

And as he does, Asher reaches for the phone, lifts it up, and slams it down to end the call. 

"Did so good for us, didn't you?" Harry says as you sigh with contentment and melt into his touch. "Didn't she?"

Asher hums. "So fucking good, sweetheart."

You revel in their voices. In their assurances. In the way they still sound like they're far from through with you.

And in the way you feel so safe.

Protected.

Now…it’s just the three of you.

And truthfully…

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Next Part:

~ Yours* (Pt. 3)

Previous Part:

~ Mine* (Pt. 1)

- Full Mine Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

#harry #harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles fan #harry styles request #harry styles x you #harry styles smut #mafia romance #mafia!harry #smut #cw exhibitionism #blurb #concept

[southern-fried-simpin]

Imagine trying to tell Buggy that he’s actually really cute and attractive

Because, good lord his self esteem is at the bottom of the east blue

Buggy x fem!reader

“You really don’t get it do you?”

“Get what?!” Buggy snapped.

“OhmyGAWD”, you huffed, “you’re so insecure about your n- one stupid, little thing that you really have no idea how many women would want to bang you!”

“WHAT DID YOU JUST FU…cking…say…huh?” Anger turned to confusion as he turned to you, barely lowering the dagger that was now pointed toward your face.

“You’re hot , plus, I can guarantee you that there’s probably a clown fetish community out there somewhere and you look like you would be very fun to top so yeah.”

The poor man looks at you, absolutely flabbergasted. Then his eye began to twitch, probably a sign he was short circuiting. Meanwhile, you just looked on at him waiting for whatever was coming next.

Finally, Buggy took a deep breath and pointed an accusatory finger towards you as he opened his mouth….only for nothing to come out, save for a choked whimper. He quickly cleared his throat in a poor attempt to cover it up but you knew better.

“Y-HmmnNNGDammit you can’t just…!”

He growled in frustration, his face a shade of red so deep it almost matched his nose. You, however, just stood there grinning at him.

Before he could say anything, you pushed the hand holding the dagger aside.

“Can’t what, Captain? Tell you how cute you are? How I bet you make the most adorable little noises?” You giggled.

Buggy’s mouth was agape, eyes wide and looking terrified yet desperate. He was like a puppy wanting attention, but not wanting it enough to behave.

Finally the clown regained his composure and yanked you forward with the dagger now pressing dangerously against your neck.

“If this is your way of trying to not get taken prisoner…” a sadistic grin crept onto his lips.

“Ya gotta another thing coming.”

You threw your head back and groaned.

How? How, how in the hell can he be so damn dense?!

“Oh my GOD, you can’t take a fucking hint can you?! I’M NOT TRYING TO ESCAPE, I’M TRYING TO GET LAID!!!”

You stomped past him as he sputtered and almost tripped over himself chasing you.

“Now hold on one second-“

“Nuh-uh you’re not getting it that easily after you threatened me, your ass is gonna have to take me out to dinner first, and then maybe, maybe I’ll think about it!” You turned on your heel and continued to stomp off.

Buggy smirked before following you. That attitude of yours just sealed the deal and, Oh Christ, you look so pretty when you get mean! He’s made up his mind, he’s wining and dining you tonight, and he’s going to make sure you feel like a queen!

“Yes, Ma’am~” he says as he catches up to you and places his hand on the small of your back.

#one piece buggy #buggy the clown #opla #one piece imagine #buggy x reader #x fem!reader #one piece netflix

[adrift-in-thyme]

Can I hear your thoughts on this panel?

I feel that Hyrule looking at Legend as Four says that is important somehow... What do you think?

Hmmm

Well one thing I’ve noticed in the last couple of updates is Hyrule and Legend have been around each other A LOT

Practically ever since Hyrule finished healing Twilight and helping Four they’ve been hanging around each other. In close proximity too. Which, given that Legend usually only stands close to the people he trusts (principally Sky) is a big deal.

If Dawn pt. 5 is any indication, it seems that Hyrule is mostly initiating this lol

But Legend is letting him

Excuse me while I fangirl over the downfall duo for a moment. ALDNDLSDJSLDNSL THE BROTHERS EVER

Ahem ok let’s continue

Now, I’m overdue for a LU reread so correct me if I’m wrong BUT I seem to recall that they’ve never stayed this close to each other before. Could just be that they take comfort in one another’s presence. Seeing the panel you shared, though, I’m gonna say it’s more than that.

Idk if they’ve figured out their place in the timeline yet (I’m assuming not due to how everyone acted in Timeline Talk pt. 1). That doesn’t mean, however, that they haven’t begun to guess. Jojo has hinted at many interactions that the Links have had offscreen. Plus, Legend and Hyrule met up before they ran into the others. They’ve had time to get to know each other. I guarantee they’ve got suspicions about their places in time.

Which leads me to believe Hyrule is afraid of losing Legend. He must have figured out that Legend was a hero sometime before his journey began. Meaning, somewhere along the way he perished and the darkness he struggled so hard against spread over Hyrule anew. With Twilight just having escaped death (plus the cryptic comments he continues to make regarding Time’s fate), I’m sure untimely demises are on Hyrule’s mind.

I don’t think he knows Legend’s fate (unless there’s something in his games that hints toward the previous hero’s fate). But I believe he wants to. I can’t be the only one who sees the striking similarities between Legend and Time. He likely came to the realization that a guy like Legend will most likely die a wanderer or a warrior (doesn’t mean he did. I don’t like to think he did. One blorbo with a tragic end is enough XD But still). And being a hero and Legend’s friend he’s wondering if maybe, just maybe he can change that.

If it’s possible to know a future occurrence, it could be possible to transform it, right?

All image credits to @linkeduniverse

#also the ability or inability to change a person’s fate #seems to be a theme in lu #wild has to deal with the fate of his kingdom #twi is trying to save time from his regrets #trin answers #lovely littlelightfish #asks #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu hyrule #lu legend #lu update spoilers #lu ​analysis