#Looking to fit in I just want connection and friendship and I can barely seem to manage that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

Text

“it’s not that important”

Summary: Y/N is in Harry’s band and one night they have a drunken hook up. One thing leads to another and they find themselves engaging in a friend’s with benefits type of situation. spoiler: it is important

AKA: A friends with benefits to lovers story :) with some angst in there

This is for @stylesharrys fallinharry10k celebration so my trope is friends with benefits! prompt is “you have no goddamn idea what you do to me. when i’m around you, i have no control of my emotions or my thoughts” and the tenth picture ^ i kinda just used it in the beginning to descripe what he was wearing - i got really carried away with this story but the prompt is in there !! lol, not proofread tho but would love your feedback !!!! :) love y’all very much

oh boy i’ve had this done for agesss but i hadn’t written the smut until today so now we’re here i dont even remember what happens - i vaguely remember not loving the end but I hope yall enjoy

Word Count: 15.4k (longest fic to date) | Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, alcohol consumption? i dont remember but i dont think theres anything too heavy in here.

“Hey Harold!” You smile as you easily hop over the side of the couch and settle beside your bandmate.

Harry groans, yet can’t keep the small smile off of his face when he sees it’s you. “How many times have I told you to never call me that?”

Your eyes narrow at his faux glare. “And how many times have I told you, I simply do not care?”

You reach a hand out and tousle his already disheveled, unstyled brown hair. Despite his lack of styling, his hair still looked perfect. His chestnut hair fell into a middle part when he did nothing to it and you found it endearing. It made him look far younger than he truly was, like a boy you might have pursued when you were in your early days at college. The waves slightly framed his prominent cheekbones and chiseled jaw that was sporting a tiny amount of stubble.

He moves his arm from around the back of the couch to pat at his hair, trying to put it back in its nondescript position you had just messed with. After he’s satisfied, he uses the same hand to push up his glasses on the bridge of his nose. They’re chestnut brown Gucci frames that match the natural highlights in his hair. You can safely assume that’s why he bought them. The lenses are clear, but you know they don’t hold any prescription. He looks incredulously at you from behind them still.

“Nice glasses,” you mention offhandedly as you reach out to the coffee table to grab the drink you had left there earlier.

Before Harry had arrived, you had been taking up residence on the couch, in the spot he had actually taken up. You had ventured to the restroom for a moment and gotten held up in a conversation when asked your preference for the Beatles. Having to defend your staunch stance for the Beatles and against the Rolling Stones, you had gotten swept up into an argument with Adam. He believed that because the Rolling Stones toured for longer warranted them the title of best rock band. While you countered that despite their long touring and production of music, the Stones had a rotation of members. The Beatles maintained the four of them and held such a large impact even though they were barely together for a decade. They were one of a kind, or at least the first of their kind, you’d allow. You weren’t really in the mood for intellectual conversation tonight, so upon seeing Harry taking up your seat, you had told Adam you’d continue the discussion at a later date and returned to your spot.

“Thanks,” Harry mumbles as his gaze flits around the room. He wasn’t sure if you were actually complimenting him, but he would take it as one either way.

The rest of your friends are all up and about, drinking, talking, dancing. It was the usual house party scene: a relatively intimate gathering, music you all actually liked, some friends of friends feeling slightly out of place. There was no pressure in this type of gathering but still Harry wasn’t necessarily in the party mood tonight. Usually, Harry was the one instigating these types of get-togethers with his friends and bandmates. He liked to be the life of the party, but as the tour loomed closer and closer, he felt some tinge of longing for quiet and solitude. He knew he wouldn’t have much quiet while on the road, which mostly didn’t scare him. He loved the stage and the high he received from performing and the gratification he felt from all the people in the room being there to see him. But there was also that other part of him that liked the quiet, the privacy. As the lack of alone time nudged itself around the corner, he had been hoping to enjoy solitude, or at the very least peace before he was on the road. Some sort of blissful state before technical chaos ensued. When Charlotte, the host of tonight’s soiree, had texted their group chat about tonight, Harry had politely declined. Then came the slew of private texts from Charlotte giving him all the reasons he should come tonight. He tried to say no again, but had shown up after the continued begging from her.

His appearance mirrored his expression, choosing a not perfectly fitted white t-shirt and random trousers rather than picking something he really loved, like usual. You could tell something was up and as his friend you were wondering what was wrong with him.

“Don’t sound so excited, Harry, someone might mistake you for somebody who’s happy to be here.” You stick your tongue into the side of your cheek, gauging his reaction.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re not very funny?” He quips, green eyes flashing to meet yours.

Your banter is probably how the pair of you communicated the best, never really falling into the whole serious side of friendship. You never shared those late night talks about the future or your fears. It was a fun friendship, so you didn’t fancy yourself one of his closest confidants. When it came to music, you and Harry were a bit more serious which formed a sort of paradox because the music you would share with each other gave a far greater insight into your souls than you probably realized. As a member of his band, you would discuss his music and what was going on with that sort of business part. But the sharing and discussion of other music that you did was part of your friendship, even if you didn’t see it like that. Because of the countless albums you had recommended to each other and the specific songs you had made note of, Harry and you knew each other much better than you thought you did. Music connects to something deep inside yourself and you have to like it enough and know the other person well enough to believe that they will also enjoy it to recommend it. As much tongue and cheek that you partook in with Harry, deep down, unbeknownst to either of you, you were that friend he shared his hopes and fears with, through the way he knew best, music.

“No, most people find me hilarious...”

You take a sip of your drink, trying to cover up the sting that his remark actually left. Most of the time you were great at keeping up with anyone’s banter, especially Harry’s, but tonight you weren’t feeling it. His tone had sounded so harsh it almost sounded like he meant it. His features soften when he sees the way your face falls, despite your sarcastic tone.

“‘M sorry. I’m just not in the best mood tonight. Didn’t want to come, but Charlotte…” He shifts to face you, arm retracting slightly around the couch, landing his hand at the edge of your shoulder. His fingers fiddle with themselves absentmindedly, he turns his rings around his fingers and they ever so slightly brush against your shoulder. You don’t mind, you know its his nervous tick that he did whenever he didn’t have something to clink them against.

“Yeah, same here, actually.” Your tuck an out of place hair behind your ear, returning your gaze to Harry, who’s tilting his head at you curiously. “But might as well make the most of it, though. After all, this is our last week before tour starts.” You raise your glass and tilt it towards him before taking a sip.

You really didn’t have a plan, you were just trying to make him feel a little better. It was seldom you saw him so solemn at this type of gathering. He usually was the one bouncing from group to group, entertaining everyone with his dazzling charm and quick wit. Sometimes he would bring a date and spend the night with them in the corner, but that was usually at bigger parties than this. At these types of gatherings you often found yourself talking with Charlotte for most of the night. You were both new additions in the band and you had clicked immediately. You would travel in a pair between different groups and talk with everyone. Sometimes you would tell a humorous anecdote about your life and everyone would laugh wholeheartedly. Your ability to retell a story and make it hilarious every time seemed to be your secret talent. You could make any experience into a ten-minute retelling and it always sounds like the funniest moment of your life. It ranged from your embarrassing audition for Grease as a tween to your supermarket run in with an old acquaintance or B-list celebrity the day before. It didn’t matter what it was, it just always had the entire circle of people laughing and wiping their eyes with joy. You’d laugh a little with themselves, but usually you just had a triumphant smile on your lips for the rest of the night.

He nods, sipping his own drink for the first time since you had settled down beside him. “Well, I’m all ears.”

“What?”

“Give me your suggestions on how to make the most of tonight.”

“Drinking, mostly, was my plan,” you laugh nervously as Harry continues to stare at you intently.

“Mostly?”

“I mean, what do you want me to say? I didn’t think to pack my bouncy castle, my bad.”

He bites back a laugh but lets some air escape his defined nose, before staring with a deadpan face at you.

You like to tease him. You simply liked him. Harry was different from other men you knew. You were pretty sure most people could say that though. Harry was just different. It seemed like no one could not have some sort of affection for him. With the playful friendship the pair of you had, you always skirted the edge of flirtation. But you also didn’t particularly ever want to cross any lines with him. He was the employer of you, technically. He had brought you into his backing band and you wouldn’t do anything to harm that position. As well, at the end of the day you knew Harry. His tendencies and the choices he made.

When you were around him at parties like this, you had to try really hard to keep him at an arm’s length. Because on one hand, you would drink and suddenly the boundaries you put up didn’t seem that important, instead his lips started to look rather inviting, but on the other, you knew that he was extremely emotionally closed off to any relationship that was more than either friendship or a one night stand.

Harry doesn’t give you a response, just swings back his drink. The pair of you sit and drink in silence. Before you know it, Harry and you are five drinks in, finally talking after the second. The pair of you decide to move to the balcony outside and continue your conversation there after the third. After the fourth, you're getting really handsy and by the end of the fifth, Harry’s arm is wrapped tightly around your waist and you're laughing breathlessly into his neck. It looks like he’s just shielding you from the cold night air, but both of you seemed to be enjoying each other’s embrace for other reasons.

Finally catching your breath, you lean back and pant softly as you meet eyes with Harry. His pupils have blown out from the alcohol and dark light. The emerald green barely surrounds the black and you swear there’s flecks of gold or maybe brown in them. Your brows scrunch at the revelation and Harry asks what you’re thinking. You don’t respond, too entranced and drunk to even hear him.

“Oi,” he bops your nose, “What is goin’ on in there, little lady?”

Your hand reaches up and widens Harry’s eye manually. His inebriated state has no qualms about you doing such an odd thing. “Why’s your green not actually green?”

“What?” He asks before moving your hand away from his face, it instead falls to his chest. The pair of you shift until your caged between his body and the balcony’s ledge. You pout as you stare up at him. His skin looks soft and taught over every inch of his face and neck. The urge to kiss him keeps nagging at the back of your mind. The idea keeps creeping up closer and closer and the drunker you are the less likely you are to suppress it.

“Do you want to fuck me?” You blurt out.

“Sure.” Harry isn’t taken aback. He had been thinking about asking for a while, so he was glad you had asked first, made it easier for him.

“Okay, let’s go.”

He takes you back to your place, the pair of you catching a cab the short distance between yours and Charlotte’s flats. No one blinks an eye at the pair of you leaving together. Everyone watched the pair of you sulk all night about being there and only enjoying the other’s company, so they weren’t keen on either of you staying. Charlotte was simply glad the pair of you had stayed for as long as you did.

The two of you walk casually until you’re inside your bedroom. Once inside, Harry throws you on the bed and fucks you. Hard. He’s got you spread out in more ways than you had ever thought possible. He’s got you saying things you had never even dreamed of saying. And he’s got you cumming and screaming more than you could have ever wanted. He enjoys himself as well. He loves the way you feel around him and the way your eyes look up at him while he fucks you straight into the bed. He loves the way you sound whispering dirty things and screaming his name. He loves the feel of your soft skin all over your body as he pushes deep inside you. He loves the way you’re able to rip a guttural moan from him every time he cums. And he cums three times that night. While it wasn’t quiet, he did find that blissful state he had been in desperate need of.

After the third round, Harry feels spent. He brings himself into a sitting position, legs hanging off the edge of your bed. You’re lying in your bed, completely overstimulated, cumming at least twice as many times as Harry. He scratches at the top of his head, his bicep bulging as he folds his arms around himself.

“That was fucking good, Y/N. Just what I needed.”

You can only hum in response.

Then he takes your blanket and lays it over you. After that he begins to stand up, getting ready to grab his things and go.

“You don’t have to go…” your voice raises when you realize what he’s doing.

“Yeah, I do. This was just a one time thing, yeah? I enjoyed it, but you know...”

“Erm, I guess?” You rolled to fully look at him, he was pulling his t-shirt back on now, his marked chest disappearing beneath the white fabric. “Do you really not stay over at your one night stands?”

He thinks about it as he begins with his shoes and his glasses at the same time. “Yes? Usually I don’t know the person and I don’t particularly want to sign an autograph when I leave in the morning. Best to leave immediately afterwards.”

“That was exactly why I wanted you to stay...Shit! No chance you’ll give me an autograph now? Could sign my tit, right next to your hickies.”

He laughs, automatically in a better mood after the catharsis of having sex. It was also a relief for him that you didn’t seem to be weird about the hook up. “Shut up!”

“You’re a twat, Harold.” He groans instinctively at the annoying nickname, not caring about the ‘twat’ part. “But be my guest, you can freeze your arse off while waiting for your cab outside at this hour.”

“Rude..” He mutters, standing in your doorway now. “You wouldn’t actually make your employer stand out in the cold at this time of night. I haven’t even got a jumper. Could get a cold and ruin my voice. ”

“You’re the one who says it’s best to leave immediately. Get on it, mister.”

Your hand makes a shooing movement, but he doesn’t budge. You sigh as he makes a puppy dog face - eyes wide and a puckered pout with his flushed cheeks and lips - playing into your actual kindness, that he knows is somewhere. Your sweetness that you were keeping hidden from Harry right now. Nothing was serious between you so it made sense that you were trying not to let your innate ability to care show as he’s about to walk out on you.

“Ugh, fine. Stop looking at me like that. Just grab one of my coats from the bottom right, they’re all oversized so one should fit.” He doesn’t relent on the face. “And you can stay inside until your cab comes.” You sigh and throw one of your pillows at him. He catches it easily and throws it back, much softer than your throw. “Also never pull the employer card on me again when I’m naked in the bed you just fucked me in,” you call as he looks through your closet.

Returning with a patchwork coat you had thrifted tight over his shoulders, he looks at you seriously, “Yeah sorry about that part. Definitely wasn’t trying to exert my power over you, it sounded better in my head. Meant more like you could ruin my voice and both of our jobs.”

You nod and chuckle slightly, finding how inarticulate Harry could be as an endearing trait. His explanation didn’t actually make it sound better. “The jacket fits.” You say, choosing to move forward from Harry’s weirdness, knowing he didn’t mean any harm from his initial statement.

“Yeah, thanks. I think my cab is here,” He glances at his phone, “So I’ll go...See you?”

“I’m sure.” You smile, “We do in fact work together and will soon be touring the world. Would be a bit weird if I didn’t see you.”

“Right.” He nods and adds a peace sign before he walks out of your sight. You know he’s gone when you hear the door click shut. What an interesting night.

Love on Tour had just started and Harry couldn’t lie. He couldn’t keep his mind off of you. You were both his most recent partner and the best he had had in a while. He found himself rubbing over the spots on his neck and clavicle that you had given particular attention to during the night you had shared together. When he went to bed it was your body he pictured to get himself off. So, after the first show he’s beelining to you at the beginning of the after party. He’s got an adrenaline high and he needs a release. You’re the solution. He’s whispering in your ear, asking if you’d like to meet him in his dressing room. Your eyes study his face when he pulls back and they widen slightly when the realization of what he’s implying dawns on you. Then you’re nodding and excusing yourself from a random conversation five minutes later.

Inside Harry’s dressing room, you find Harry already unbuttoning his shirt. He grabs your face and shoves his lips onto yours once you lock the door. As he kisses you he tries to make one thing very clear, “This doesn’t mean anything.”

“Got it.” You begin to finish Harry’s job of taking off his shirt.

He pulls back to look you in the eye, “Are you okay with that?”

“Jesus fuck, yes, Harry, just shut up and fuck me senseless again!”

He listens to you and begins to kiss down your jaw and neck. His open-mouth kisses leave a searing trail across your skin. He settles on a spot at the base of your neck and begins to suck and nip at it with vigor. You set to work on finishing his job of unbuttoning his shirt. Then you pull off your own shirt, reaching behind you to untie the bows at the back. The new skin exposed grabs Harry’s attention and he moves down to suck over the cleavage of your tits. He’s happy to be back with his ‘bosom friends’. You smack his head when he says it and he chuckles darkly, only sucking harder on them causing you to moan louder than you would like.

Once you’re both in only your underwear, you find your back pressed up against the mirror behind the dressing room counter. Harry’s body is nestled between your spread legs as he kisses down your skin. His fingers dance along the line of your thong as he looks up from beneath his lashes for position, you only push his head closer to your heat in response. He laughs mischievously before tugging them down off your hips.

“Missed this pretty little cunt...All I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout,” He mutters as he begins to latch onto your dripping core.

Your brows shoot up at the thought that Harry’s mind has been stuck on you for the past week. You definitely had thought about your drunken hook up a bit, but hadn’t thought it had left a lasting impression on Harry, you assumed he had that lovely of a night with every person he chose to spend intimate time with. These thoughts are forgotten when Harry’s warm tongue is lapping at your swollen bud. You’re already panting for Harry and now you’re heaving with moans and whimpers leaving your mouth with every lick and nip of his expert mouth.

“Fuck Harry, feels so good,” you whine as his tongue travels down your folds and swirls and dips into your hole.

He moans at your words and the way your legs squeeze at his head. His hands move to spread you open wide to maintain his control and he smirks at the way your body rolls due to the friction of his voice against your pussy.

“Be a good girl f’me,” he growls still pressed against your wet heat.

Your body rolls again as you get closer and closer to your first release. Your bite your lip trying to contain all of the sounds that are trying to escape your mouth. Harry notices the new silence and glances up seeing how you’re trying to behave. As much as he likes you obeying his words, he also wanted to hear how he was pleasuring you.

“Tell me how you feel, princess,” he demands.

“So-so good,” you hiccup as his fingers caress over your folds now as he looks you in the eyes, his lips wet with your slick. He kisses you hard, his tongue diving into your mouth and you kiss back passionately, loving your taste on his tongue.

He pulls back and your hands trail down his chest, swirling around his familiar tattoos and hair that grace his lower torso as you move. He grins, enjoying the feeling of you on him and how he was affecting you.

Soon enough, his cock is finding its way back to your glistening folds, wet with your own liquids as well as his saliva. His mouth waters at the sight. He only pushes into you a few times like this. Then he catches sight of himself in the mirror in front of him and can’t resist. He pulls out and flips you over, your squeal leaving your mouth before you can stop yourself. His dick finds your entrance once again, not wanting to be without the wonderful warmth for any longer than he must.

“Ahhh,” Harry groans when he slips back inside.

Your head throws back on your neck, the feeling of him as well as the sight of him gripping your hair in one hand and your fleshy hip in the other. His rings dig into the skin as he’s able to slam more forcefully in this position. You gasp and whine at his motions. The sounds coming from between your legs are turning you on even more and they seem to make Harry happy too. He picks up the pace and drops the grasp of your hair for a second. Your head falls down as you try to keep yourself up on your elbows.

Gripping both of your hips, Harry growls, “Look at me while I fuck you. C’mon now.”

You moan in response and tear your eyes open to see your reflections in the mirror. One hand goes up to hold onto the mirror to give yourself more traction, causing your back to arch even more. The new position has Harry’s cock slamming into you deeper.

“Fuck!” Harry practically yells and can’t keep himself from landing a harsh slap on your ass. You jump forward at the sting but his other hand keeps the pace steady. He keeps burying himself into you all the way to his base, his balls slapping at your now slick spread thighs. He rubs over the red handprint he had just left on your ass. You whimper and bite your lip, truly enjoying the sensation.

Still staring into the mirror as Harry commanded, your eyes water slightly and Harry makes eye contact with you through the mirror. You smile widely and he grins back. “This feels so fucking good. Your pussy takes me so well. Fuck…” Harry babbles, still pistoning into you. You had noticed how vocal he was the first time you had fucked, but thought it had just been the alcohol. Apparently not. But you didn’t mind, you much preferred it to partners who barely spoke or didn’t even moan. Like how were you supposed to know what was going on in their minds? With Harry, you knew he was having a good time.

A few more heavy thrusts and you felt yourself nearing the edge. Your panting was getting faster, exceeding the speed of Harry’s thrusts and he could also feel you were close. Your cunt began squeezing him tighter so he hooked a hand under your knee and brought it onto the table. He hunched over you slightly and snaked his hand to your clit. “C’mon darling, I know you're close. Can feel that little cunt putting a choke hold on my cock.” He rubs at your clit with the vigor of strumming a quick paced song on the guitar. It’s enough to overtake your senses and the laugh that had bubbled from his words turns into your orgasm moan. You try to muffle it into the arm that is holding you against the mirror to avoid a full on scream because it feels that good. You felt like you were having your first ever orgasm, it felt that new to you.

A few more thrusts and you’ve come down from it, but Harry still hasn’t finished. It’s your turn to be the partner coaxing the other to get off. “Faster, Har. Want you to cum too.” He grunts, picking back up the pace. He had slowed to let you ride out your stay. “That’s it...want you to cum in me. Your cock feels so fucking good.” You whine, meaning every word. He smiles again at you and closes his eyes, focusing on chasing his high. You watch as his smile widens to that open mouth grin, “Fuck,” he almost whispers. And there it is. There’s a twitch in his hips that mirrors his expression and then he’s pulling out and cumming on your back. His voice is now even lower and raspier than before as he babbles how good that was and how tight your pussy was. It was sweet nothings, but extremely explicit and you sighed heavily, feeling a small orgasm wash over you again. His final thrusts and voice pushing you off the cliff again easily.

The two of you take a minute to bring your breathing back to normal and Harry goes to clean your back off.

“So..how do you feel about maybe doing this regularly?” Harry asks sheepishly as he begins to pull his pants back on.

“Like a friends with benefits kind of thing? Or bandmates with benefits, rather.” You laugh breathlessly at your not really funny joke, but you’re now truly exhausted. From the show and the fuck, you felt thouroughly worked out.

“I guess that’s what it is, yeah.”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

“You’re honestly so chill, Y/N. It’s fuckin’ hot.”

You laugh and flip your hair dramatically. You’re only in your bra and panties right now and Harry licks his lips, finding your playfulness to be a turn on. “What can I say?” You laugh.

“But like I said before...it’s just sex.” He’s buttoning up his shirt and looking at your reflection through the mirror now. He watches you slip the pants you had been wearing back on.

“Oh, Harold, I know.” On cue, he groans and turns around to face you after fixing his mused hair in the mirror. Interrupting yourself, you turn your back to Harry, “Can you tie this, sorry it’s hard for me to get the -” Harry walks to you without any hesitation and begins tying the silk ribbons on the back of your shirt. “Thanks. Anyway,” you turn to face him when he’s finished and you place both of your palms on his chest. “Trust me, I know you’ve got your issues and I’m not looking to be the girl that tries to change you. I know what this is. I only ask that you let me know when you sleep with other people, because once you do, you won’t need me.” Harry nods and you pat your hands against him. You both smile and go your separate ways when you leave the dressing room.

Harry and you fucked almost every night on tour. Sometimes it was right after, on the counter in his dressing rooms. Sometimes it was later in the evening in his hotel room or yours. He stopped leaving immediately after your hook ups. He never kicked you out of his room so he decided it was fine for him to stay in yours. Especially because you weren’t a stranger who would be weird with him in the morning. He also didn’t like trekking through the hotel halls late at night.

The first few times you stayed in the same bed, the two of you stayed on opposite sides of the bed, not touching after you were finished engaging in your sexual endeavours. Rigid bodies against the edges of the mattress. Then one particularly long night, filled with multiple rounds, Harry was so exhausted from his performance on stage and off that he collapsed on top of you. He fell asleep there and you didn’t particularly mind. It felt nice to be slightly compressed and held. He shifted in his sleep and when he woke up he wasn’t upset to find you nestled into his side with his arms wrapped around you. After that, cuddling sort of became part of the routine. After you were done having sex, Harry or you would get up to clean up and bring back waters. Then you would settle in his arms. Sometimes in a spooning position and sometimes you cradled softly into his chest. You didn’t talk about it, it just happened.

One night it was your head directly on top of his butterfly tattoo, one leg thrown over his lower torso and your arm snuggly wrapped around his middle. He liked to pet your hair when you laid against his chest in that way. His fingers would fiddle with the strands and you liked it because he usually took off his rings before he would do it and his hands felt so soft and delicate against you. Harry liked the way he felt when he would hold you afterwards. It was calming to fall asleep against your soft skin and feel your fingertips trace lyrics to songs he wasn’t sure the name of against his own.

No one knew about how your friendship with Harry worked. To the rest of the world, you seemed to be someone who had become another close friend in the band. You were similar to Mitch in many respects. Except for when Harry winked at you during a show, it wasn’t a friendly wink, it was a ‘this song makes me horny and I can’t wait to relieve the pressure by fucking you later’ kind of wink. You knew this because Harry had gone over and whispered it in your ear during a quick break, when you had only looked at him weirdly after he did it.

Before the show tonight, you pulled Harry aside, “So what are we thinking tonight? I feel like I might want to ride you...Haven’t been on top in a while.” In the darkness of the backstage, you crane your neck to take Harry’s earlobe between your teeth. He groans softly and grips your hips to guide them against his for a second. “Sounds fuckin’ fantastic, love.” You twitch back, releasing him immediately at the word. You always told him not to call you that and he tried to reason with you, that it was just something he called people. But you disliked it a lot, adding it to the growing list of rules the pair of you had for the do’s and don'ts of being friends with benefits with each other.

“Harold,” you groan and he steps back at that pet name. While he hated this, you refused to let him put it on the list because it didn’t cross any lines with your physical arrangement. Not that there was any physical list to put it on, it was more of a theoretical list that the two of you would speak of occasionally.

“Sorry.” He says eventually, “Didn’t mean it.” You both laugh.

You think about how other relationships were sometimes desperate to hear their partner express their love for them and you believe you’re grateful for the simplicity of your arrangement. The term relationship regarding what you and Harry were doing was also in the ‘don’t’ category on the list. If either of you were being honest, there should be no need for a list and you should be questioning yourselves why you felt the need to set boundaries if one part of it was physical and the other part was your friendship and job. If it truly was just physical why were boundaries constantly needing to be set and followed? But right now honesty was not in the cards.

After the show Harry gets delayed with press or fans or something that you don’t really care about. You barely read the text that he sends, only caring about the ‘sorry got held up’ and the ‘be there in thirty’.

You let yourself into his room and wait on the bed, flipping through your phone, completely unbothered by the rest of the world. When you hear a knock on the door, you don’t think twice about getting up and opening the door. You only realize your terrible mistake when it’s Mitch and not Harry standing at what you’re also just realizing isn’t your door, but instead Harry’s.

“Shit!” you say under your breath as Mitch looks at you confused.

The room is dark behind you because Harry would have just entered and gotten down to business. He might turn on a side lamp, but you hadn’t felt the need to have light on while you waited. Forgetting all of that, you had just gone to the door and opened it.

Mitch tucks some of his hair behind his ear as he stares at you. “Is Harry here?”

“Er..No?” It comes out as a question. You rub the back of your ankle with your foot, feeling nervous.

“Is he actually not here or?” Mitch trails off, narrowing his eyes at you.

“No, no he’s really not here. I’m waiting for him, too.” You rush your words, but try to remain calm.

“You have a key to his room. And you’re waiting in the dark.” He says. They’re not questions and you’re not sure just how guilty you look.

“Yeah!” You try to come up with a non suspicious response, hoping there’s a way to still salvage your’s and Harry’s secret, “He gave me his key because he wanted to talk about something and I kept it dark because my eyes always hurt after shows. Kind of like a migraine.” You scratch at your head and smile, trying to convince Mitch. He seems to believe you as he nods slowly and opens his eyes more.

There’s a little bit of an awkward silence and Mitch shifts his weight between his feet, looking at you still. Just as you're about to invite Mitch to come wait inside with you, Harry steps out of the elevator and begins to walk down the hall. His key card is already in hand and your eyes widen. Harry’s expression mirrors yours when he realizes Mitch is standing outside of his door and that you are standing with him. “Mitch!” Harry says, placing his hand on Mitch’s shoulder and sliding his key card into his back pocket with the other. Mitch turns to Harry without seeing him put away the other key card and you look at the pair of them.

“I was just telling Mitch how you gave me your key card so we could talk about...that thing.” You interject, flicking the lights on in Harry’s room as casually as possible. Harry shoots you a look about how you couldn’t come up with an actual reason for being there. You shrug your shoulders helplessly.

Mitch looks between the two of you and feels some weird tension and he’s not sure if it's always there and he’s just noticing or if something is going on right now.

“Yeah, well, I came to stop by to talk about the riff in Canyon Moon. Something is wonky with it.”

“Oh! Sure,” Harry nods to Mitch and then glances at you, “Y/N, we can talk about that other thing later. It’s not that important anyway.” His tone is so casual and nonchalant. You stare at him, thinking he can’t be serious. You had been almost sure he would send Mitch away, but instead you were being kicked to the curb. When he doesn’t say sike or anything of the sort, you nod. “Okay,” then you mumble a ‘good luck’ with figuring out the problem with the song. Mitch walks in the door, but Harry’s eyes stay fixed on your figure retreating down the hallway. He watches you disappear and is only pulled from his thoughts when Mitch calls his name from the couch in the room.

After reaching your floor, you key into your room and get ready for bed. Just as you’re about to drift off to sleep, completely alone for once in a long time, there’s another knock. This time you check the peephole, a habit you realized you were going to have to get better at. It’s Harry. You open the door and walk away immediately once he’s entered the room.

“Why are you here?”

“Thought we could still...” He follows you into the room, trying to make out your face in the darkness.

“I’m not in the mood anymore.” Your tone gives away your annoyance. You couldn’t hide that you were mad at Harry for sending you away. It made you feel weird. The way he did it so easily made you feel like you were extremely disposable and unwanted.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs as he lays down beside you. You turn to face him when he places a hand on the small of your back. You’re face to face and your noses are almost brushing. It’s not really possible to see each other’s features, but after months of hooking up you knew each other’s faces pretty well. You could reach out and pinpoint all of Harry’s freckles and moles on his face and neck right now and be correct. He could likely do the same. The theory is proven correct when he reaches out and his hand dances down your cheek. “Just thought it would be less suspicious if I didn’t get rid of him. Couldn’t make him wait either…”

“I know,” your voice is small and soft, just above a whisper, “I forgive you.” You scoot closer to him and Harry instinctively wraps his arm around you, bringing you tightly into him. You sigh into his neck and he shivers at your warm breath on his slightly clammy skin. When you lick your lips, they brush lightly against his skin. He laughs at the feeling, so you decide to press an intentional kiss to the hollow in his neck. In response, he presses a kiss to your hairline, his lips slightly chapped after the concert.

The kisses are tender, filled with that thing neither of you dare attribute to anything the two of you did in the dark. The word you told him time and time again to not call you. So is just about every touch and word that has been exchanged in this room since Harry entered it. You fall asleep wrapped up in his arms, a soft smile resting on both of your faces. Neither of you seem to mind that you didn’t actually have sex tonight or anything even close to it.

When you wake up you feel especially well rested. You shift around and realize your bed is empty besides you. It depended on the day, but it was always a toss up between Harry being there when you woke up or not. However, lately, you had found it was usually the former. You would linger longer and so would Harry in each other’s rooms, lounging in each other’s embrace under the soft glow of the morning light peaking through whatever windows the room had. Today you were cold at his absence. Then you look up and realize you aren’t completely alone. Harry is standing at the end of your bed, staring down at his phone, smiling.

“Hey.”

You wait for his reply, but he doesn’t look up from his phone. “Hey, Harold,” you repeat. His head snaps up, a grimace on his face at the name. He slips his phone in his pocket and ruffles his hair. “Hey.” He finally responds. “I’m gonna head out.”

“Okay.”

Neither of you seem to find it necessary to talk about what happened last night. Harry definitely seemed a little off to you this morning, but you try to shake it from your thoughts. There was no reason to be upset with him being quiet. He didn’t owe you anything, you hadn’t even slept together last night, so if anything it was weird he stayed as long as he did.

It was the second night at the Forum in Los Angeles. This means no travelling necessary. No day off either, tomorrow you’d have a day off before the third and final show at the venue though.

Harry and you were talking normally at the venue, mostly about the setlist - him and Mitch had changed something for whatever reason last night, which was fine. Your banter was to a minimum, but you were trying to convince yourself that nothing was off. Even though it felt like something was different, you couldn’t place your finger on what it was, so you thought it was best to ignore it.

When Harry is about to go out on stage, you don’t pull him aside and when he introduces the members of the band to the audience, he doesn’t say anything fun or silly about you. He doesn’t wink or come up to you at any point in the performance. It’s so unusual the rest of your bandmates are giving you funny looks. Charlotte looks at you from across your keyboard in a way that she’s asking if you’re okay. You shake your head at everyone trying to signal that you’re fine.

Mitch goes over to Harry and whispers in his ear to check in with him, Harry looks at him with a bright smile on his face and says “of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Mitch looks between the pair of you, thinking back to last night and how weird the pair of you were being then. Maybe it dawns on him then what might be going on between the two of you, but if he did, he wouldn’t mention it for a long time.

You falter a bit on your back up vocals tonight. You’re trying to give it your all, like always, but for some reason your voice isn’t sounding the way you want it. About halfway through the show, when your voice comes out the exact opposite of how you would like, Harry finally gives you a second glance. His face practically emotionless, save for the single arched brow. He’s concerned, but not concerned enough where he would go over to you. He just doesn’t understand why you keep missing the right note tonight. You make a shake of your hand to say I don’t know either. He just shrugs and turns back around to continue the show, his lively smile returning while he turns his head.

After the show, Charlotte, Sarah, and you are all checking in, going over what had happened during the show in general. They’re both worried about your voice and you’re simply trying to tell them that it was just an off night. Nothing was wrong. As long as you told everyone else that, then it might turn out to be true.

“It’s fine, maybe I didn’t get enough sleep last night,” you fib, having gotten more sleep last night than most other nights on this tour. They both nod, seeming to take that as a reasonable answer.

Then Charlotte gets quieter as she whispers to the three of you, “Did you guys notice anything weird with Harry? He was super lively, but he barely interacted with you, Y/N, which is so unlike him...”

Sarah nods while you look skeptically on. Sarah adds, “He kept looking up to the boxes, too. More than usual at least. I don’t know though…” She trails off and you cross your arms over your chest, not really enjoying the conversation topic. “I mean, what do you think, Y/N?” Sarah adds.

Your eyes dance between the two women, your fellow bandmates, your friends. You sometimes wished you could share with them what you were doing with Harry. The secret was fun, but it’s also nice to be able to share with your girlfriends about the guy you’re seeing, even if it is a casual thing. The friendly gossip of it all is something fun to share, but sadly that was another thing you couldn’t do. You sigh, “You never really know what’s going on in his mind, y’know. He’s just Harry.” Your response is half-assed at best. You figure they’ll both give you shit for the non-answer you just supplied, but instead someone else speaks for them.

“I am in fact, just Harry.” He says and you swivel around to find yourself almost chest to chest with him. Charlotte laughs while Sarah simply smiles. Your eyes are huge as you stare up at him and you hope your blush doesn’t come out too strongly after being caught talking about Harry by himself. “Enlighten me on when I was being ‘just Harry’ though?” You bite your lip and take a step back from him, forming more of a line with the other women. He shrugs when no one offers a response, laughing lightly.

“Oh and Y/N, I can’t talk about that thing again tonight, I’ve got-”

“A date?” Charlotte asks, trying to understand why Harry was acting a little different tonight still. The part that Sarah had mentioned about him looking up into the boxes had given her the idea that he might have plans with someone after the show. Harry scratches his head, his hair slightly wet with sweat right after the show. He’s taken off his coat so he’s just in the almost completely unbuttoned, sweat soaked shirt he had been wearing underneath. It sticks tight to his skin and you can make out all the muscle lines that hide beneath the fabric that you usually get to caress. Your eyes flit from his body back to his face when he speaks again.

“Erm, I wasn’t going to phrase it like that...but yes, I suppose, it’s a date.” He says finally, he avoids your eye contact and you look at him very confused, trying to hide the hurt. He shoves his hands in his pockets trying to look and sound as casual as possible and ignore the strain he sees on your face. Is that what had held him up yesterday? Making plans with someone else? And he hadn’t told you until now? The past twenty four hours stung a little bit more now that you knew why Harry was being so distant. It simply felt icky finding out this way and it didn’t even seem like he was going to tell you it was a date.

“Okay,” you say simply and walk away. You hear Charlotte asking him details about his date, but you try actively not to hear any of it. Sarah watches you walk away and sees the way you wrap your arms around yourself to comfort you. She feels a twinge of sadness as she watches the scene unfold, seeing something she hadn’t realized was there before.

Harry doesn’t text or call you that night. You hang out with everyone else for a little while in Charlotte’s room before heading to bed, saying you think you need an early night tonight. Before you’re able to walk out of the door, Mitch stops you. “I heard Harry blew off whatever conversation the two of you have been trying to have again. Just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” You try to smile but it comes out as more of a grimace. There is no conversation Harry is blowing off, it’s simply you. “It’s fine. Like he said yesterday, it’s not important.” Mitch nods, but still looks at you with concern. What he had seen last night, then on stage today, and what Sarah had told him about your interaction after the show it all strung together in his mind. It didn’t seem unimportant at all. But he didn’t know how he could tell you that. He felt like he should talk to Harry about the way you looked when you left Charlotte’s room tonight, but he didn’t know how to bring it up to him either.

You don’t realize you’re crying until you're in the elevator, and it’s slowly rising to your floor of the hotel. You’re only one level up, but it feels like an eternity in there. You already weren’t a fan of elevators, but this ride felt impossibly worse. The walls are all made up of mirrors and you see yourself in the reflection, but you don’t exactly recognize the girl in there. Your eyes are tired from the show, dark circles already formed. Your hands are aching, clenching and unclenching on their own accord. Your body is slumped against the back wall, likely leaving a slight imprint from the smoke residue and dust on your clothes. Worst of all are the tears running down your face, smudging at your makeup, the black mascara you had applied dripping down in sinister raindrops against your skin. The sad girl stares back at you as you sniffle slightly, confused at what you’re seeing. “Why are you crying?” you ask yourself, your voice creaking and then breaking at the end as you struggle to get out the word ‘crying’ before a sob wracks through you. You roll your eyes when your reflection offers no explanation for itself. You laugh at your own patheticness and try to shake the feelings you’re experiencing.

Inside your room now, you flop on the bed and stare straight up at the ceiling. Your arms spread to your sides and your legs lay limply below you. You think about every night before last, every night since the tour started. Every night where you weren’t alone, where you were with Harry. Your mind flits to last night, how Harry’s lips had ghosted over your skin after his apology. How you had told him you forgave him and it had felt so peaceful, so simple. It was all so easy. Thinking about him and the things the two of you did together brought a smile to your face, unbeknownst to you. When you realize it’s there, your face drops immediately, deciding not to think about Harry.

But trying to not think about Harry makes you only think about him more and what you think about him now most definitely doesn’t bring a smile to your face. You’re thinking about him out on his date with some person you chose to learn nothing about. Maybe out of fear of what is happening right now. By knowing nothing about the person, you can’t compare yourself to them. Can’t see what’s different about them that would make Harry go out on a date with them. But it doesn’t matter who they are or what they look like because at the end of it all you know one thing for certain. They’re not you. You correct yourself, you know two things actually, because you also know that Harry chose to be with them instead of you tonight.

You fall asleep with tear stained cheeks that night and absolutely nothing positive on your mind. You want to sleep but know it only brings whatever is bound to happen tomorrow, which doesn’t seem very promising.

It’s noon when you wake up and you wake to a knocking on your door. You grumble and throw a sweatshirt over your body to hide the underwear you slept in. Not remembering your new habit, you swing the door open without any hesitation to find Harry. He looks wide awake and happy, the way he almost always looks, a fresh beautiful flower of a man. You look at him groggily, “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

“Because I was asleep?” You tilt your head and look at him incredulously. “What about this,” you gesture to your appearance, “looks like I just went for a 3 mile jog for fun and I love the morning?”

“Can I come in?” He ignores everything you just said and enters the room when you leave the door to get back in bed. You often did that with him, you don’t know why, but when he asked to come in the room it was just simpler to let him in then say anything. He knew what you meant.

He sits at the edge of the bed as you reclaim your spot in the middle of it, tucked slightly under the covers, but still sitting up. “How was your date?” You try to sound nonchalant and it seems to work. Harry doesn’t notice your tense figure, but you notice how he tenses up when you ask.

“Good…Her name was-” You don’t let him finish, you already know the answer to this next question and you don’t need her name in order to ask it, “Did you fuck her?”

He’s silent, green eyes staring straight at you. You meet his gaze, your eyes almost burning holes into him. His eyes are begging you to not make him answer the question, he doesn’t want this to end, even if he also didn’t want the commitment he had felt himself exhibiting the other night.

When he had come to your room the other night after Mitch had almost caught you, he knew he shouldn’t have stayed. He didn’t want you to feel bad so he had come to apologize, but when the pair of you didn’t have sex, he should have left. But he didn’t, he stayed and it wasn’t for you, it was for himself. It was for him to hold you in his arms because he liked to. But when he woke up the next morning he knew he needed to leave. Solely cuddling wasn’t part of your arrangement together. It’s probably on the list of don'ts that the pair of you had. So after he realized the line he had willingly crossed with you, he quickly sent a text to Jeff who had tried to set him up with a model they were acquaintances with the night before - the reason he had gotten held up. Harry had initially declined, not very interested in seeing anyone else but you. But looking back on that choice in the light of day seemed to solidify what this relationship was - a relationship - and Harry didn’t like that. The commitment wasn’t part of the plan, so he told Jeff to set that date up for after the second show at the Forum and give the woman a ticket. That’s why he was smiling at his phone the morning after only cuddling with you, that’s why he didn’t joke around with you during the show, and that’s why he wasn’t in your bed last night.

You watch him expectantly, silently waiting for his answer, your veins cold as ice. He finally starts his answer and he wants to make it clear that it wasn’t as good with the other woman, but he’s not sure how to work that part in. He’s not sure how to explain to you it meant nothing if your arrangement also apparently meant nothing. You barely even let him get in a sentence. “Yes, but it was just a one time-”

“Alright.”

“What?” He doesn’t understand what you mean when you nod your head and cut him off.

“I told you at the beginning, Harry. Tell me when you sleep with someone else because when you do this is over. It doesn’t matter if she’s the love of your life or a one night stand. I will not be a backup plan, so if you’re able to find other people to sleep with, you don’t need to be sleeping with me.”

He sits in silence for a moment, his jaw dropped open slightly. He’s unable to keep it shut as his mind races about what to say. “Are you mad with me?”

“No, I’m fine. This was just sex. Charlotte will be happy that I’ll be going out with her more.”

Harry’s brow furrows as you shift away from him on the bed, grabbing your phone and beginning to flick through it. You feel numb and you’d like to not think about why.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks because he does care about you, worry is written all over his face. He just can’t commit, not now.

“What would I be mad about, Harry?” You look up and your eyes widen at him, silently asking him to truthfully say why you should be so upset about this revelation. You always knew it would eventually come to an end, you just hadn’t expected so soon. You hadn’t known the last time would be the last time and it broke your heart even if you knew it shouldn’t.

He shifts to reach his hand out to touch your exposed knee. You move away from him and he sighs, looking exasperated. “I- I don’t know. It just seems like we should talk about this.”

“You didn’t even think it was necessary to tell me you were going on a date last night, so I think it’s best if we just left it at ‘it’s fine, see you around’.”

He spreads his hands out across the sheets, examining his rings and painted nails thoroughly. You’re right, he doesn’t really want to talk about this. Well, more so, he’s conflicted. He would like to talk enough that you want to continue your arrangement but he doesn’t want to talk about feelings or emotions. Even if he has those feelings and emotions, they’re just not part of the things he’d like to talk about. “But-” You set your phone down at his first word, “Were you even going to tell me you fucked someone else today if Charlotte hadn’t asked you if it was a date last night? Would you just have come to my room tonight and acted like nothing had changed?”

“I would have told you.”

“Sure.”

“I swear I would’ve. I would never break a promise to you.”

“But you would make a decision that affects the both of us without telling me until afterwards?” Your voice breaks a little and you beg yourself not to cry right now.

“I thought you said this was just sex?”

You laugh humorlessly, in disbelief, “Of course it’s not, Harry! And it hasn’t been for a long time and that’s why you got scared and went and fucked someone else.” He looks at you blankly, unsure what to say, knowing you’re right. You continue, “But I also told you at the beginning of this, that I wasn’t going to try to change you. So this is me not trying to change you.” You sigh when he still says nothing, his expression completely unreadable, even to you. “Why couldn’t you have left it at ‘it’s fine’?” You say finally, barely above a whisper.

He blinks a few times after your final question. He flexes his hand one more time and then stands up from the bed. He adjusts his clothes and stares at you. You feel helpless, but you’re still trying to look pulled together, even after your outburst. You stare back. A thousand words floating through your heads, all the things you want to say and likely never will.

“I know, I’m…” he pauses, trying to get himself to say it, but he can’t. He can’t admit that he’s completely ruined whatever messed up paradise you had created together. “I’ll see you later.”

The apology or lack there of hangs in the air as he walks silently out your door. You don’t move, you barely even blink, still staring at the spot he had just occupied. Your breath finally escapes you, a large sigh. Then some nervous laughter. It was over...just like that. But things like this, left like this are never really over.

It’s awkward for a good amount of the rest of the tour. You hang out with your bandmates more and Harry rarely ever comes out with them after the shows. He either hangs out with Mitch on his own or is going out with random people he knows on the road. You and him speak, but it’s never a lot or about anything relatively meaningful. It’s not the fun back and forth of before or the fiery heat of sneaking around. You try to be normal with him, act like his casual friend and bandmate.

He does his best to do the same, but it’s difficult for him. He doesn’t know how to talk to you anymore. He misses being with you, but can’t bring himself to fix it. He doesn’t do much to right his wrongs with you. He also doesn’t even know what he would want if he did apologize. It scared him to think about the step that came after ‘sorry’ so he saved himself the trouble and never did that part either. One night he texts you: “I’m trying, it’s just hard.” and that’s it. You don’t give him a response, he doesn’t need one. You know he’s trying and he knows you know.

Near the end of the tour, he comes out with the rest of you for drinks one night. Only Mitch is between the two of you in the booth, so you feel closer to Harry than you’ve felt in a long time. The group of you are chatting and having a good time. You somehow get onto a story from when you were still in college. You explain how you had narrowly avoided getting Chlamydia right before your Christmas break junior year. You act out the conversations you imagined would have happened at all your Christmas events if you had indeed gotten it. Your impressions of your mother, father, and sister have everyone laughing the most. Harry is shaking with laughter from your story and you smile at him in appreciation when he says, “That is the funniest story I’ve heard in a long fucking time.”

The rest of the night goes really well, for the most part. No one bickers or is short with each other. Everyone is laughing and drinks are flowing. Eventually Mitch gets up to go to the bathroom and you feel Harry slide back into the booth closer to you after letting Mitch out. Your hand had taken up residence next to your thigh, resting on the vinyl of the booth. You sense something next to it now and notice Harry’s hand is resting close beside it. He shifts his hand closer when he sees that you’re looking down at it. He’s almost touching you and you look up to his eyes, wondering if he’ll close the distance. He makes an imperceptible shake of his head, but you know what he means. As you’re about to shift your hand so that your pinky connects with his, Mitch returns and your head shoots up to his figure. You instantly remove your hand from the vinyl and shift closer to Charlotte. Harry gets up, but doesn’t sit back down once Mitch is settled. He instead walks off to get another drink, risking one last look at the table where he makes eye contact with you, but he doesn’t come back. Mitch informs everyone that Harry went back to the hotel because “he was tired” after Harry doesn’t return and Mitch gets a text. You roll your eyes, sure that you saw him slip out of the side door with a woman he found at the bar after he had gotten his drink. If that’s what ‘tired’ looked like on Harry, it was fine.

You start to speak to Harry on a more regular basis after that night out. It’s not funny or lighthearted. It’s just ‘I saw this song the other day, thought you might like to listen’. It went back and forth, it wasn’t everyday but it was something. The last text between the two of you before you began sharing songs again was his ‘I’m trying it’s just hard’ text that he had sent randomly one night. Then after one of you would listen, you would see each other at sound check and mention the song and what you thought about it. It can be noted that it was Harry who sent the first song.

For Harryween, Adam couldn’t be there. He has some family emergency the day of and doesn’t come with the rest of you to Madison Square Garden or the hotel you were staying at. Thankfully, Charlotte also plays keys and you can play bass. The band had to shift around some things on stage and make minimal changes to the setlist since you weren’t rehearsed on the covers Harry was doing. You spent the whole day running through the chords of those songs with Mitch, trying to memorize them so you didn’t mess it up during the show.

It was weird because for Harryween the setlist was switched up a little from the regular set for Love On Tour. Harry was playing the entire new album as well as half of the first album, Medicine, some of his other unreleased stuff, and about six covers, including old One Direction songs. It was going to be a long show and a challenge for you.

Before the show, Harry pulls you aside, to a dark corner backstage, and your mind flits back to the last time you had been in this type of position. The last time he had called you ‘love’, the last time you bit his earlobe - which always drove him crazy, the last time he ground his hips against yours, those and more and you had no idea that it was the last. By then you had already had sex with Harry for the last time, kissed his lips for the last time. It made your heart race to be so close to him and so alone once again. But it’s nowhere near the same as it once was. You shake the memories from your mind and look up expectantly at him.

“Have you got this?” He asks seriously, tone concerned. Of course it’s a music question, nothing more. Like it always was now.

“Yeah, of course.” His stare is unwavering and you try not to falter from it.

“I can get someone else to cover tomorrow, it was just such a short notice today. You know bass really well too, it made sense.”

“I’ve got this. Seriously, don’t worry, Harold.” You pat his chest lightly and for once Harry smiles at the sound of your nickname for him. You had stopped using it after the end of your arrangement. It never felt right to use when you were talking about music, and that was about the only time you had been talking. In this moment though, it felt right. His warm, large hands held your upper arms as you stared up into his big eyes. You missed staring into them, the shimmering emerald of his irises were constantly intriguing. You instinctively reach up to move back a curl that has fallen onto his forehead. He doesn’t shy away from your touch and continues to smile down at you.

“Y’haven’t called me that in forever.” He grins, his lips a shiny pink from the lip balm he had on.

“No, I suppose I haven’t. But where was the groan? The whole point is to annoy you.” You smile coyly. He tips his head back and laughs, releasing your arms from his grasp as he laughs wholeheartedly.

Then he does a soft groan, a playful sound, “How was that?”

“Eh. I’ll give you a four out of ten. Not enough emotion behind it.” You slide from the area the two of you have been occupying and make your way onto the stage to start dealing with the bass you would be playing. You hear Harry call out to you, “I think I deserve at least a five, maybe even a six!” You turn back for a second to look at him with an unimpressed expression and shake your head no. He laughs again and you hear him even when you walk out onto the stage. You smile to yourself as you pick up the bass.

When he introduces the band, he waits to talk about you last. “And sadly this evening Mr. Adam Prentergest, our usual fabulous bassist, was unable to attend our fancy dress party! However! Our lovely Y/N L/N is also a superb bassist and was kind enough to step into his place. - Anything to add?” He saunters across the stage to you and you laugh kindly, feeling at ease in this part of the stage even though you were usually on the opposite side and further back from the crowd. You nod at Harry and he leans his portable mic towards your lips. You wet them quickly and eye Harry before turning out to the crowd. “Just please go easy on me if the bass sounds a bit wonky. It wasn’t on the job description that I’d be playing songs I didn’t know, with a few hours notice, on not my main instrument.” You say this in a kind of list format, holding up your fingers as you tick off all the ways that this was out of your comfort zone. You scratch your head dramatically after you’re finished and the whole crowd laughs and cheers. The rest of your bandmates chuckle along and Harry nods and smiles at you.

“You’ll do great, love.” He leans into your ear and says without the microphone. Then he winks and turns to go back to the center of the stage. You press your lips together to contain your smile, both happy and concerned about the flip your stomach just did.

The show is going great. Harry is killing it with the crowd. Everything is electric. You’re entirely focussed on your bass playing, but Harry has been coming over every so often to do something fun or have you tell a joke.

“She’s truly the funniest person I know! And I know a fair amount of people I think.” Harry says as he walks over to you have you tell another joke. Mitch has been looking at you and Harry interacting all night and he’s sure that it isn’t your different position that has him coming over and talking to you so much tonight. Something has definitely changed once again. First the pair of you were always together and having fun, then it was silence and stolen glances that neither of you realized you were taking, now it was back to the beginning.

“That’s because you think puns are part of the top tier levels of comedy.” You say easily, “Here, I can guarantee Harry will love this and the rest of you will likely groan.” Then you stop and act as if you’re thinking for a little, everyone’s waiting expectantly. “Sorry, thinking...Well, I’ve got some skeleton puns I could do, they’re very humerus or y’know classic vampire ones..eh but those ones kind of suck. What do you think, Harry?” You look out at the crowd, face deadpan, as Harry laughs beside you. You roll your eyes playfully and push him back to the center of the stage. Leaning into your own mic now, you say, “I told you.” That’s when everyone laughs. Harry throws another look at you over his shoulder and laughs a little more, his smile wide and eyes bright.

A little over half way through the night, it’s time for ‘to be so lonely’. You already knew the bass chords for it before today and you were confident in yourself by now. It wasn’t as hard a song so you were happy for the little break. This song allowed you to not be looking down at the notes you had stuck to the floor in front of you. Harry’s voice comes in after Mitch’s intro and you watch the way his lips move against his mic. You laugh a little as you watch the crowd yell the first “arrogant son of a bitch” line. You used to not particularly like when people did that, but after it had ended with Harry you had started to enjoy it a bit more. Having those people yell the words you couldn’t, but truly felt about him sometimes, was cathartic. Tonight you weren’t angry with him, but you enjoyed the energy in the room when everyone said it. We’ve all got our own ‘arrogant son of a bitch’ that we want to scream at sometimes. Tonight yours wasn’t Harry for the first time in a long time. The song moves along and Harry takes the microphone off its stand, he walks towards your side of the stage. When the lyrics get to:

“I miss the shape of your lips, your wit, it’s just a trick, this is it so I’m sorry”

Harry isn’t looking at the crowd, he’s looking straight at you. You don’t understand the way he’s looking at you. Or maybe you don’t want to understand it. This song, its lyrics, explains Harry really well. You saw the relationship you had with him in the words. Maybe not precisely, but a part of it was in it. Harry had unknowingly foretold your lives with his words. You know he has trouble connecting and committing, you know his issues, and you accept them. But you knew what had happened between the two of you was far more serious than meaningless sex and you knew Harry couldn’t bring himself to be that serious. He ran off and that was fine, but the face that he couldn’t even apologize hurt you the most. But the song lays it all out for you, he’s not one to be able to apologize quickly. The fact that he looks at you and means the apology he sings in the song for you, it’s a big step, but it’s not enough. The banter, the technical apology, it was all a good start, but it’s just that - the beginning. If Harry wants to make things better with you, a lot more needs to be discussed. So when you sing backing vocals for the following chorus you mean the words for Harry completely.

“Don’t call me baby again, you got your reasons, I know that you’re trying to be friends. I know you mean it, but don’t call me baby again it’s hard for me to go home and be so lonely”

His eyes flick to you again and see your lips moving around the words as you play the bass. He sees the emotion in your face and understands what you’re saying. It’s hard for you to go to your room at night and be alone while he’s out with someone else. It’s hard for him to act like everything’s all fine and perfect, back to normal, because for you it isn’t really. He can’t call you ‘love’ and tell the world you’re funny and expect it to be enough. He can’t sing his sorry that was initially for someone else to you and expect you to accept it. And he knows it, too.

After the show everyone decides they’re exhausted and need to rest before tomorrow. You all planned to celebrate the whole day and you knew it was going to be a wicked Halloween. Knowing this, you’re surprised with the knock on your door after about an hour of being back at the hotel. You’ve given up the habit you had once hoped to cultivate and swing the door open haplessly. Truly having no idea who to expect, you are still surprised to find the man standing before you.

“Mitch.”

“We need to talk.” He stares down at you, his shoulders slumped from tiredness.

“Come in,” you usher him in when you hear the urgency of his voice. He saunters in before you and you close the door. You move to the small couch in the room and sit down. Your hands gesture for him to sit as well, but he shakes his head. He stays standing and brings a hand up to smooth his hair back on the right side. His eyes staying on the floor and flickering up to you every so often.

“What is going on with you and Harry?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh come on Y/N. You’re seemingly best friends with him for a good portion of tour, then you’re barely on speaking terms for the second half, now you’re joking around again. What is going on?”

You sit there in a stunned silence, “I don’t know what to say.” Your arms go to hug your body, feeling anxious about being confronted about this topic.

“Were you seeing each other?” His voice is soft, eyes taking in your body language and knowing it’s a difficult topic.

“I wouldn’t put it like that…”

He holds back the ‘I knew it’ statement because of how sullen you look, b..ut in his mind all of the pieces he had watched unfold came to fit in a perfect puzzle. He decides to sit beside you when you don’t say anything else.

“We were having sex,” it felt weird to say it out loud, no one but you and Harry had actually known, “But it ended. I don’t know what today was...but it felt different than how it’s been.”

“Why are you so sad if it was just sex?” He places a hand on your shoulder and your tear-filled eyes meet his. “Oh…” He knows why.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” You sob at his apology because he’s not the one who should be at your door apologizing. You sniffle and lean your head into his chest. He takes you into his arms and holds you as your cries become muffled sounds in his shirt.

You cry without words for a few minutes, Mitch coos some soothing words, his voice soft and kind. He was always a good shoulder to cry on for all of your bandmates, he was extremely strong and you made a mental note to thank him thoroughly when you actually were capable of forming coherent thoughts. “I’ve never told anyone before. It feels so weird even saying it out loud,” you say as you pull back from Mitch’s embrace. You're thankful his shirt is black, no tear stains can be made out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks gently, gauging your reaction. You wipe at your eyes and nod.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to start from the beginning. “Do you remember the party Charlotte had a week before we left for tour?”

Mitch nods and his eyes widen at what you’re saying as he remembers the night. “It started back then?” He’s unable to contain his incredulous question. He had suspected something, but hadn’t thought it had been going on for that long. He was truly astounded. You nod, “Well sort of,” then you go on to recount the last couple of months. All the way up until the Forum shows. “That night, when I opened Harry’s door and it was you standing there...Harry and I didn’t have anything to discuss. It was just…” Mitch nods again. He hadn’t spoken much since you had gotten into the story, wanting to let you be in charge of what you were saying and believing he could probably ask questions at the end. “Then the next night he blew me off for his date with that model and I cried in the elevator because I knew what was going to happen next.”

“So that’s when it ended?” Mitch asks when you don’t speak for a rather extended period of time.

“Yeah, the next morning he came over and I asked if they had sex and he said yes so I told him it was over.”

“But I don’t get why he went out with that model. He had told me she wasn’t his type the night before…” Your eyes shot up and looked at Mitch. His eyes widened when he realized what he said.

“What?”

“When we were talking about Canyon Moon, he mentioned that Jeff had tried to set him up with some woman but he had declined. Said he wasn’t interested. I don’t get what changed between then and the next morning.” He figured it was best to put all the cards out on the table right now. You’d be going your separate ways for a while, now that the tour was over and he had seen how unhappy both you and Harry had been over the last part of the tour.

You shift your leg to have it folded beneath you as you continue to stare at Mitch. “He came over after you and him had your meeting,” you say quietly. Mitch hums, waiting for you to continue this time.

“He apologized for choosing you over me to talk to. Then we slept together, but we didn’t have sex...I think that’s what wigged him. It had felt too real, sleeping in the same bed with me without having sex beforehand made it feel like something more than just two people fulfilling needs.” Mitch nods and sighs heavily. He looks around the room and then back to you, taking in your full appearance. Again he feels terrible for you, how he had felt the second night at the Forum even though he hadn’t known the full story yet. “Now we’re here.”

“Tonight, it felt like he was trying,” Mitch finally said and you smiled sweetly, thinking back to Harry’s behavior. No matter how far from him you were, all those good feelings you associated with him never went away.

“Yeah, it’s been getting better. He texted me once saying he was trying. Then he came out with us one night and it almost seemed like that would be the night he’d apologize, but then he didn’t. Then we started sharing music with each other again. Then tonight… was tonight. It’s just confusing. He’s confusing.”

Mitch smiles sadly and brings you in for another hug and you’re actually so thankful he

showed up at your door. It was your first time telling anyone all of this, because Harry didn’t even know how you felt about some of these things. It felt amazing to be heard and to be told it was okay to be feeling like this.

Pulling back, Mitch says, “He’s definitely different. But his differences are what make him special and that’s why I think he clings to them even if they sometimes can hurt other people. The fact that he’s trying is a good sign. I hope he can find it in himself to make it right between you two because I had never seen either of you happier than when you were apparently together. Especially those few weeks leading up to Los Angeles. Sarah had kept asking me why Harry was so smiley back then. When I had asked him, he had just said “have you ever found something and realized you wanted to keep it with you forever?” I had no idea what he had meant, but I feel like he meant you now.”

Your awestruck at what Mitch has just told you. He was right about the first part about Harry trying to change, but the last bit, that’s what had left you speechless. You turn your body to face the rest of the room and put your chin against your hand as you think.

“Mitch...I have to go.”

He understands what you mean and you walk out of the door with him. He walks down the hall to his room and you walk quickly past the elevator and opt for the stairs. Before you know it you’re running up the stairs, taking two at a time even though you’re not the most athletically inclined. You can’t stand to wait for the elevator and your mind is racing.

You knock on the door that is Harry’s after reaching his floor. It swings open and reveals a confused and sleepy Harry. Thankfully he’s still fully dressed because that would have been a whole other problem you would have if he hadn’t been. You push past him and walk straight into his room without any invitation. He follows behind you, still unsure of why you’ve come here.

“Have you ever found something and realized you want to keep it forever?” You ask him, repeating the words Mitch had just told you.

“Pardon?”

“You told Mitch that about me before we ended things. If that’s how you felt, why didn’t you do what you said?”

Harry sighs as the words register in his mind. The memory of when he had smiled at Mitch so giddily and asked the vague question, his thoughts only of you as he asked it. The shit-eating grin he had plastered on his face after Mitch had looked at him confusedly flitted across his mind. As well as the way he had gone to his dressing room and had a quickie with you after that conversation.

“It’s not that simple…”

“It is, Harry! Why can’t you just be honest with me for once?”

“Okay, fine. You want me to be honest?” you nod at his harsh tone. The two of you standing only a few feet apart. “You have no goddamn idea what you do to me, when I’m around you, I have no control of my emotions or of my thoughts. I pushed you away because I didn’t like feeling out of control. I got out because what had started as a fun time had turned into me longing to be with you every waking hour. I found myself not caring what we did as long as I got to hold you and be around you, but that wasn’t part of the plan.”

“Plans can change, Harry.”

You step closer to him and he meets your eyes. He had left his music playing softly on his phone before he had opened the door so now as the two of you stared at each other, he must have been playing his Etta James playlist because her voice faded out of the song “I’d Rather Go Blind” and straight into “A Sunday Kind of Love”. Harry had shared her At Last album with you over the Christmas holiday of last year and you had decided to listen to her entire discography afterwards, so you knew the songs. The transition was a little too on the nose and you wondered if Spotify ever listened to your conversations.

His emerald eyes examine your face and take inventory of your features, measuring whether anything had changed since he had looked at you this close up. Your hand goes up to cup his cheek and he nuzzles into it, dropping his head closer to you ever so slightly and closing his eyes at the feeling of you.

“I am sorry,” he whispers earnestly as he reopens his eyes.

You can’t take your eyes off of him even if you tried. He looks so soft in the moment, so vulnerable in this light as the music swells in the corner of the room. Etta sings about how she needs a love that is going to last as the pair of you inch yourselves closer together.

“I forgive you, Harry,” you whisper back.

He nudges his head further down and your lips finally press together, slotting back together after months apart. Your lips are eager to press back against their favorite companion. You oblige them, but pull back for a second, just far enough to say, “I will always forgive you, so long as you tell me when you’re scared so we can work through it together.”

He nods, “I promise to never let you go again.” Before taking you back against his lips and gathering your body up in his arms. His lips missing yours just as much.

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tooweirdforyou · 3 years

Text

Maybe » Aomine Daiki

Aomine Daiki x Chubby! Fem! Reader

A/N : hi! My second non one piece fic so yay, I’m happy it’s for KnB and Aomine! Please enjoy! :3

note : I had soooo many ideas for thisssss but instead of my original idea, I went for something a little more Cliché ;-;

Summary : after being friends with Aomine for so long and developing feelings, you keep shut about them and protect your friendship. And then, Aomine finds out about what’s been happening.

“Daiki, would you get up already?”

No response came from dark blue haired athlete other than the gentle snores that escaped his lips.

You roll your eyes and went to pick up the women’s magazine that was opened across his face, just as the tan one sighs heavily and grunts out.

“Oi.. [Name]? Where’s Satsuki?” He groans, turning onto his side and pulls off the magazine from his face.

He takes a look to see the page he was looking at to be one of those thicker, curvy models.

You sigh and walk around to face him, kneeling in front of him once again, your thick thighs exposing itself from your skirt.

“She’s managing the boys at practice. She asked me to come get you.”

Aomine grunts out in annoyance at your words and looks up to see your face, staring down at him. He moved onto his back and continues looking at you.

“...”

His silence makes you smile a bit in defeat and exhale. “Come on, sleeping beauty, you need to get to practice. Otherwise, Satsuki will have my ass.”

“I’m too tired.” Aomine mutters, turning back onto his side, turning so he faced you this time and stares up at you lazily.

Examining your features in silence, Aomine took in your appearance at the moment.

There wasn’t a readable expression on his face so you couldn’t guess what he was thinking. His staring did cause your cheeks to pinken as his eyes shifted down.

He eyes your legs for a moment, the staring hard enough to make you shift to ignore it, as you poked him.

“Come on, just get up, please?” You plead making Aomine pout and close his eyes to avoid your expression. “I don’t care, I don’t wanna..” he sulks quietly.

You heave a heavy sigh and pat your skirt down and hum, leaning close to his face, his eyes still shut.

“I’ll buy you the latest issue of the swimsuit catalog for you~” you sang, in hopes of convincing him to get you.

The blue haired athlete opens an eye to come face to face with you, inches away, and seeing how close you were to him causes him to swallow and turn away, covering his eyes with his arms.

Fortunately, it seems it worked.

“...hmph, idiot.. I want the latest issue of the swimsuit catalog, the lingerie catalog, and I want bread..” He announces, pulling up his hand and bringing down a finger for each one he counted.

You roll your eyes playfully at him, and you held your pinky out for him. “Stupid pervert, it’s a deal.”

Aomine merely grins and moves his arm to face you again, connecting his pinky with yours and you both kissed your thumbs. Something you two did together since you were kids.

“I’ll be waiting.” Aomine grunts as he forces himself up and dusts his clothes, holding his hand out for you to take. “You better remember.”

You lift your hand to take his and helped yourself up, dusting your skirt. “Don’t worry, I won’t. I don’t think I could forget my best friend’s perverted desires.”

“You think too low of me.” Aomine furrows his brows as he began headed to the ladder.

“Do I?”

“Idiot.��

Shrugging, you head down after him, being sure to threaten him if he even dared look up at you as you climbed down, and headed to the gymnasium together.

—

Gently setting down your things on the ground by the door, jacket and cellphone, you went over to greet the coach and players.

“[Name]! Daiki!”

The pink haired manager runs over excitedly, practically bouncing with joy and stars in her eyes at the sight of them.

“You managed to convince him! Thanks so much!”

“Tch, you can’t even get me yourself, making [Name] do all the work.” Aomine scoffs and Satsuki pouts. “I’m busy doing my job and managing the others boys! Besides, only [Name] knows best how to get you to come.”

The pinkette widens her eyes and turns to you. “How did you manage to get him anyways?”

You gave a side glance to Aomine, who was too busy yawning and looking away to notice and you simply shrug. “He knows better.”

Satsuki just giggles a bit and grabs your hands, her clipboard tucked under her arm. “Thanks so much again, [Name]. I owe you one.”

“No problem, Satsuki.” You smile softly at her and watch her pull away to begin pushing Aomine to change.

“Alright, alright, stop pushing me.” Aomine grumbles as he walks forward, stumbling every few steps. He then turns back to give a smirk to you. “Keep your promise, you!”

“Of course I will!” You scoff, waving at him and smiling nonetheless, and began to head out after bidding goodbye to the other players and the coach.

Passing the viewers from up top, you hear particular comments.

“What promise could that fat girl make with Aomine?”

“Can’t be to spread her legs for him.. no guy would want a big girl like that.”

“Obviously. How does Aomine even know a piggy like her anyways?”

Their hushed voices and obvious stares only make you smile forcefully and walk out silently, ignoring their comments.

It wasn’t like it was the first time you heard something like that.

As soon as you open your locker, you find a couple notes slipping out from being held in place. You glance down before crouching and picked each one up, reading them as you did so.

‘Get some exercise, piggy!’

‘Lay off the foods for a while already.’

‘How can you stand to be so big? How does anything fit you?’

The bitter smile that formed from the sight made your heart heavy but you didn’t say a word.

It was a regular occurrence anyways.

It didn’t make you feel any better, considering your walk over to your locker, other students in the halls were pointing and staring over at you, as if you were a display.

As if it was strange to see someone like you there, someone big, where everyone else was thin.

You rip them up in two and set the pieces aside in your locker, grabbing your bag. About to shut your locker, you find the printed sheets Satsuki asked you to do and sigh.

“Better now before I forget..” you mumble to yourself, taking the ripped pieces and the printed sheets into your separate hands and closed your locker.

Slinging the strap of the bag over your shoulder, you begin heading back to the gymnasium so you could finally get home afterwards.

The gossiping whispers didn’t stop. Didn’t they have somewhere to be instead of loitering the halls?

Choosing to distract yourself, you thought about Aomine. The tall, tan, dark blue-haired athlete. It still made you surprised at your friendship but it was one of the best things that happened to you.

It was genuine, Satsuki and Aomine truly appreciated you and you appreciated them, there wasn’t anything you wouldn’t do for them.

The only you could regret was your developing feelings for the athlete. An athlete dating a chubby girl? Even you could laugh thinking about it.

However, you figured Satsuki had the same, so you could only suppress them.

Plus, you didn’t want to ruin Aomine’s image.

It seems you distracted yourself too much, because as soon as you turned the corner, you bumped into someone, causing the two of you to stumble back, the both of you falling.

“O-Oh, I’m so so-“ despite you also falling, you look to the opposite person to apologize, but you were cut off by her scream.

“Oh my gosh! She touched me! Oh my gosh, get away from me, fat girl! You could’ve crushed me!”

The other girl, seemingly her friend, quickly helped her up and both glared hard down at me.

“W-What? I-“

“Are you seriously talking to me? Oh my gosh, Sera, let’s go to the locker rooms so I can wash this filth off me.” The other girl nods as they begin to walk off, but a third voice cuts in.

“Let me help you with that.”

Before any of you could react, the rude girl was suddenly soaked with water, emitting a surprised shriek from her once again.

“What the fuck?! What the fuck are you-!” The three of you turned to see a particular tanned male and your eyes widen.

“Daiki?!”

“Aomine!”

His ignorance towards you made you furrow your eyebrows, his attention kept on the two girls.

“There, all cleaned, now get the hell out of here.”

It was clear the girls were stunned at Aomine’s attitude and overall appearance, but even worse, was his piercing, sharp glare sent to them that sent shivers down their spine, and even you could feel a bit of goosebumps.

“Aomine.. we were just—“

“I don’t really care. Get lost already, it’s a bother to hear your voice.” His glare immediately disappears and he rolls his eyes, turning away with disinterest.

The girls gaped at that and quickly scurried off, you barely noticing her tears from her wet skin.

Once the girls were gone for good, Aomine immediately turns to you, making you startled. His gaze down at you makes you a bit uncomfortable but you continued to stare at him.

“Daiki.. what are you doing-?..”

His stride towards you makes you stop your words and watch him grab your wrist and help you up to your feet.

And then suddenly, he pins you to the wall, hand still gripping your wrist and other placing itself beside your head.

His lazy, unreadable expression is plastered as he leans close. His eyes flick back and forth between yours, as if it’s searching for something.

His peripherals then catch sight of the ripped papers and he snatches them away, pulling away to read the writing.

“H-Hey! Daiki!”

The athlete doesn’t say anything and you can’t reach for it back because he’s so tall.

Aomine silently connects the papers together and reads the full text, and you can’t see his expression since he turns away, but you find his hands clenched tightly into fists, muscles tensed and veins forming as he crushed the papers.

It scares you a little bit to see, so you try to calm him down, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, it’s fine, okay? It doesn’t bother me anymore, so just-“

“Anymore?.. so it has before?” Aomine scoffs. You flinch and sigh. “Maybe, but look, I don’t care about it so let’s drop it, okay?”

Aomine clicks his tongue and turns around to look at you, an irritated yet pained expression taking over. You could actually read it.

“You know... you really are an idiot.”

You pout at that and frown. “The nickname really is unnecessary. You’ve been calling me that since I tripped over my own to feet and spilled my ice cream on myself when we were like, twelve.”

“Because you really were an idiot then! You tripped over nothing.”

“I tripped over some rocks, you jerk!” You scowl, shoving him which caused a small smile to form despite his pained expression seconds prior. His heart still ached knowing you were being bullied like this.

Aomine just shrugs and walks off, making you surprised. “W-Wait, why’d you even come here anyways? You should be at practice.” You began jogging after him.

He stops suddenly, lifting something off his shoulder. It was your jacket and your phone was in his hand, having taken it out from his pocket just now.

“You left it in the gym earlier. I didn’t want you to freak out and forget, and then not text me when you got home safe.”

Your eyes widen at you recall placing it down by the door. “Oh..” you must’ve forgotten when you were ignoring those girls from before. “Thanks..”

You reach up to take it from his hands and think back on his words, tightening your grip on your belongings. Aomine gives a long glance to you before taking your hand.

He holds it up and pressed his palm against yours quietly, you watching silently as he slowly intertwined your fingers and wraps his arm around your body. The action was enough to cause your cheeks to warm but you didn’t protest.

Pulling you close, he tightens his embrace, afraid to let go. “Hey, I..” he pauses for a moment, leaning down more so he was by your ear.

He thought for a few seconds before deciding to change his mind. Aomine shuts his eyes and relaxed himself.

“Nevermind.. just get home safe.. and promise to tell me if something like this happens again. Okay?”

His voice is a whisper, and you can’t see his face but you can hear his weak tone.

“I will.. I promise.”

You slowly pull away and held out your pinky again, smiling softly when he connects his with yours and kissed his thumb.

You thought about confessing to him. Now is the perfect time, isn’t it?.. but, the small fraction of you that’s scared, overpowers your confidence and you just smile at your friend.

“I’ll text you when I get home. Thanks again, and give this to Satsuki when you get back.” Handing the printed sheets to him, you take a step back and wave, slowly turning.

“See you tomorrow, Daiki.”

“..Yeah.. See you.”

You both turn away from each other in the hall, both wearing a somewhat pained expression for similar reasons and shared the same thoughts.

‘Maybe one day... one day I’ll confess to him/her..’

—

A/N : this is all over the place and not really meshing well together but look, I’m tired. I literally got the vaccine recently and I’m so freaking sore.

Also, is it normal to have chills? The next day, I was FREEZING all day.

#tooweirdforyou #knb x reader #knb aomine #kuroko no basket #kuroko no basket x reader #kuroko’s basketball #aomine daiki #aomine daiki x reader #x reader #knb writing #kuroko no basket writing #aomine x reader

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 3 years

Note

Why do you think muggleborns "exit Hogwarts to find 0 opportunities"? I've read your thoughts on Tom (~ no way he actually wanted to work in customer service, etc) but Lily? Yes, in canon she and James used the Potters money to live off & help the Order, but. Or is it more your headcanon because it makes sense in a pureblood supremacy society? I think it's fitting but I'd like to know if there's smth I missed... (do you think the same happen to hermione after? or is she too famous?..)

Oh, oh ho, no pretty much nothing on this blog comes directly from canon.

It is, at best, things you can infer about canon if you tilt your head and look at it from all the right angles that JKR intended you to look at it.

So, as far as canon is concerned, this never came up. We know muggleborns are looked down upon by your general pureblood wizard, we know muggles are even more so, but Harry’s world is a very small one and it’s never implied that muggleborns have issues securing employment outside of Hogwarts.

Dumbledore tells Harry that Tom ends up a clerk because he wanted to, because he likes dark shiny things. This is despite this having at least been Tom’s second choice in career, something that doesn’t really grant him any power over anyone, and, well, something he doesn’t appear to enjoy in the memories shown to us. But Dumbledore has a boy to convince to kill himself for the greater good and explaining, “And then Tom Riddle, the top scoring student in decades, barely managed to secure employment because of his blood status” makes Tom look less evil. No, all the shitty things that happen to Tom are things he intends to happen! What an evil mastermind!

But yes, for Tom specifically, Dumbledore makes it seem as if Tom specifically worked at Borgin and Burkes because he somehow knew about the sale of the locket. I highly doubt this on every level. I think it made for a nice story that Dumbledore could tell Harry and may even believe himself. Dumbledore, after all, is the kind of guy who thought it made him look fantastic to pretend to light an impoverished muggleborn orphan’s wardrobe and all his worldly possessions on fire to teach him a lesson. HE SURE SHOWED HIM!

The fact that Tom Riddle, who was actively shmoozing Slughorn for years, who supposedly had all these pureblood friends, who had record breaking exam scores, was prefect then head boy, etc. cannot get his foot in the door of the ministry or seemingly anywhere... That’s very very very damning evidence to me.

It also is evidence that makes a lot of sense to me.

The Wizarding World has a hilariously small population. Take Harry’s Hogwarts class size. There are what? About seven kids in each house in his year? Let’s round that up to an even ten. That means at any given time in Hogwarts you have about 280 children. This, even, seems very generous as it seems the important wizarding families don’t have children all that often (once in a generation) and that there might be at most two or three muggleborns in a given year. Hogwarts seems to be Great Britain (as well as Ireland’s) not only premier magical institution but only magical institution.

This seems comparable given that the other major schools we know of cover multiple populous countries in Europe. Beaux Batons, from what we can tell, seems to be the major school for Western Europe. Ilvermory covers the entire United States. Durmstrang all of Scandinavia and Eastern Europe.

I cannot emphasize how small of a population size the wizarding world must be with these numbers. Forget the size of a small country, forget the size of a large city, the wizarding world is approximately the size of a very very very small town.

This is why everyone knows each other, their major shopping district is essentially a single street, their ‘bad side of town’ is a corner on a street, etc. There are maybe a couple thousand people in the wizarding world. This is nothing.

Now, given that, it becomes clear that there just aren’t that many businesses/ventures for gainful employment around. The Weasley twins make their own business, Charlie actually goes to Romania to become a lumberjack er dragon raiser, Bill goes to work for essentially a foreign nation with the goblins. There’s one newspaper and one tabloid that really feels like a newspaper made out of Luna Lovegood’s garage. There’s a series of quidditch teams that feel like it must consist of half the population. Everyone else, if they have jobs at all and aren’t simply rolling in money and being good old lords, works for the ministry.

Now, the ministry is huge, overbloated, and a mess. Arthur’s department, for example, should not exist. How is “Misuse of Muggle Artifacts” such an overwhelmingly large problem that it cannot possibly be absorbed by another department? What this means is I suspect the ministry a) is filled with joke departments nobody needs just to provide jobs b) is filled with coveted career positions c) even if you overbloat the ministry there’s only so many jobs.

Given the world they live in, given the prejudice against muggleborns, do you really think the ministry is going to waste a spot on someone with the last name of Riddle or Evans? Are they really not, instead, going to give that open position to family or friends? The wizarding world feels as if it is made of rank nepotism (Slughorn’s existence even kind of confirms that). Slughorn is so influential because he gets you these networking connections you desperately need. You think Tom enjoys shmoozy cocktail parties with these assholes? You think Lily does? Please, it’s because everyone needs this. The Wizarding World is built on top of who you know.

And, of course, your last name.

Although canon never implies that Lily was anything other than happy to be married to James immediately, have a child, and not work I feel that we’re never given a job for her is very damning evidence. Lily was the most brilliant witch (well probably magic user but I’ll play nice with canon here) of her entire generation, and she either chooses not to get a job or given the above seemingly cannot do so.

I imagine many muggleborns face this bitter reality when they exit Hogwarts. The world is tiny and all jobs go to friends and relatives. Hogwarts was this insular, isolated, dream that made them think they can make it out there.

They can’t.

Even Muggle Studies seems to go to purebloods and the man heading “Misuse of Muggle Artifacts” is a pureblood jackass.

As for Hermione, I think she got very lucky and never realized it. In part because the population is so small, and those who were in power got tied up on Voldemort and thus screwed over because of him, things got very shaken up. More, Hermione by being Harry’s best friend and aiding his quest is a national hero. She gets the leg up she never knew she needed to enter the ministry and earn a very high ranking position very quickly as nearly every occupied position is suddenly vacant from the cleaning house.

Now, Hermione will tell you she earned this herself. That she simply worked harder than everyone else. But she’ll likely never realize that thanks mostly due to her friendship with Harry, as well as being in the right place at the right time, she has the opportunity to do what no one else in her situation could.

But that’s Hermione for you.

#ask #anon #harry potter #headcanons #muggleborns #unemployment #nepotism #the wizarding world #population #the ministry of magic #the wizarding world is a tiny stagnant cesspool of despair #tom riddle #lily evans #hermione granger

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Filterless

Corpse Husband x Plus-sized Reader (Female)

Warnings: Body Image Insecurities, Low self-esteem, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Feeling comfortable in her skin has hardly ever been the case for Y/N who’s been struggling with body image issues all her life. However, they only get worse when she sees the ‘type’ of girls her crush is into.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your request (hits close to home 😅) I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to fulfill it and post it but here it finally is and if you’ve stuck around long enough to read it, I hope you enjoy! ALSO! - Never forget how beautiful and amazing you are. Never compare your beauty to someone else’s. We’re all beautiful people and we all shine so brightly and uniquely. No one deserves to be compared to anyone when we’re all so different yet so incredible. Love you and appreciate you with all my heart, Vy ❤

If I ever need my ego taken down a few notches - it never does, it’s barely even present, to be honest - all I have to do is go on Instagram. To be honest, regardless of how I’m feeling, opening that app is bound to make my mood plummet and come crashing into the ground so hard it drives a hole in it - probably in the form of a broken heart.

Being a content creator myself, I often get asked questions about my absence on that social platform specifically. I mean, the questions are based and rational I guess, considering I’m not a faceless YouTuber and yet my Instagram account is void of any photos. It’s not like I don’t post at all - I do! I post on my story often but it’s more often than not scenery I find pretty or a poster I’ve made for a movie/video game. Bottom line is: I barely ever allow a picture of me to make it online. The most my fans are ever gonna get of me is a selfie which is also a super rare occurrence because of how long it takes me to take and choose one I don’t hate.

Ok, but how am I supposed to find the motivation to post any sort of picture of myself when on my timeline I’m always faced with people worthy of posting pictures of themselves. People with such perfect bodies and beautiful faces. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not jealous or envious of those people - good for them! They know what they’re working with and they’re working it well. I have nothing against them, in fact, I love seeing people proud of their bodies no matter their size, shape or weight. Those are my role-models: people who are proud of themselves, their bodies, their attributes and capabilities and don’t hesitate to show them off. Those are the people I look up to but, deep down inside I know I’ll never be like.

Insecure about my body, having been referred to as ‘chubby’ and ‘squishy’ all my life. Inappreciative of the stuff I do: starting from my job as a graphic designer leading towards my job on YouTube - nothing I do, professionally or otherwise, satisfies me. Nothing I do is enough in my eyes because I feel incapable of ever being able to do enough. I’ve been called lazy and a half-asser a few too many times to be able to brush it off as a meaningless insult.

With these problems I’ve had with myself and my own perception of who I am and the work I do, I’ve never had the time for romance or romantic relationships. I second-guess the intentions of everyone who ever shows any interest in me because in my mind I’m nothing special and I have nothing to offer - nothing attractive or likable at least. That being said, I haven’t even been one to make heart eyes at others either. I busy myself with my job and some side-gigs, brushing off any relationship questions with the excuse that I’m ‘just too busy to be in a relationship’ which is technically true.

Having spent twenty plus years with that mindset, one can imagine how surprised I was when I found myself catching feelings for someone. And that someone just couldn’t be any other than the biggest YouTube sensation at the moment - Corpse Husband.

I’m close friends with Poki - her and I were roommates at one point too - so her inviting me to play Among Us with them wasn’t so strange. One or two games, I thought, nothing unusual there, just friendly curtesy. I wasn’t expecting to warm up to the group of famous streamers nor did I expect them to welcome me among them so easily, mostly because my channel is so small and practically invisible to the YouTube algorithm. But soon enough, I became a permanent member of the team, making friends with every single one of those YouTubers I practically thought of a celebrities.

This journey of branching out to other content creators has proven itself to be surprisingly pleasant and has packed my book of friendships to the brim. All of that came unexpectedly, along with a wave of new subs and a higher view count. However, as I mentioned, it hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows. I came to finally understand what my high school friends were talking about when they were head over heels for a boy - the butterflies in the stomach whenever he speaks your name; the importance of the laugh you share with him, how special and different it is; how cool it is to be impostors with him - ok they never said that, obviously, but it’s what I have as a substitute to the ‘when the two of you make eye-contact’ bullshit since Corpse and I have never seen each other in person. That is, of course, because of him being a faceless YouTuber and me being a self-conscious and insecure girl.

We do talk all the time though - texting, calling, chilling on Discord, you name it. Our conversations range from deeply philosophical to ones that might mislead someone into thinking we’re high. There’s no topic we haven’t touched upon and yet we still manage to find something new to talk about. We have plenty of similarities but we also never seem to run out of differences we slowly come across as we keep getting to know each other better and better.

And somewhere along that journey I ended up catching feelings.

Human nature of wanting to connect with other people, I curse you for what you’ve done to me.

You might think I’m being overdramatic about the whole ordeal and that this is just a normal, natural occurrence many people experience in their life - some even daily. Well, not only am I far from used to it, but it’s also taking a toll of a different kind on me.

It’s like a constant slap to the face.

That slap turned into a punch when Corpse and I started following each other on Instagram and I started getting daily reminders of how out of my depth I am with this crush on him. In over my head, especially when you look at all those girls whose pics and videos he reposts on his story. Imagine how that makes me feel, what that does to me - puts me back into the ‘Constantly not good enough‘ basket, the one I’ve been fighting to get out of all my life. In the past and in different contexts I could easily say that it was all just my mind hating me intensely but now - now that I know for a fact I’m not good enough and don’t fit Corpse’s criteria - it hurts ten times as much. I’m not one to do shit for someone’s attention or to attract someone’s eyes, but it really hurts my feelings. Often times, it also leads me to doing dumb things and making rash decisions.

Like the one I made two days ago.

Imagine me cringing and shaking my head at my own stupidity as I admit this: I, in a frenzy, ordered a whole e-girl getup with overnight delivery.

Wait, hold up, it gets worse.

I received it yesterday and spent the whole day regretting that decision, but then, in my most insecure hours - which was somewhere around midnight - I equipped the get-up, took a picture and posted it on my Instagram page. First full body pic I’ve ever posted on there. First pic I’ve posted there of any kind. There to stay, not to be gone in twenty four hours. First pic, and it’s not even of me. It’s of who I want to be in order to fit someone’s criteria. And that fucking stings.

As you might imagine, I’ve spent today’s day regretting that decision as well. Recently my mood’s been nothing but regretting rash decisions that have surfaced under the influence of my ridiculous, constantly-present insecurities. And I would’ve probably gotten over it rather quickly had I not received a message from Corpse that read:

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic“

I didn’t open the message, I peeped at it as it was a notification on my lock screen. It’s still there, an unread notification. It’s been two hours since I received it and I cannot think of a single thing to say in response to that.

Truth is, I’m afraid. I’m afraid of so many things right now.

I’m afraid of becoming that girl in the photo, cause I’m most definitely not her.

I’m afraid of letting Corpse down by admitting I’m not her.

I’m afraid of what my own mind has made me do because it hates me so much and I’m terrified of what it might do in the future.

I’m afraid and stranded on things to do.

You can’t be her forever, you know. Being her won’t make your insecurities go away, it’ll only make them worse. Haven’t you learned that by now?

I sigh, frustrated and irritated with myself as I grab my phone and tap on the notification, finally deciding to face the music and allow my instincts to carry me through the interaction. Improvisation, that’s one of the few things I’m good at. Let’s hope it doesn’t fail me.

I’m just about to type out my response - not sure what it’s gonna say - when I give the message Corpse has sent me a second glance. I furrow my brows, finding there’s more to it than that peep through the notification let me see.

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic. You’re personality is so bright and colorful, I could’ve never imagined you were into the darks and blacks“

Because I’m not

I fail to realize until the message has been sent that my thoughts are exactly what I typed out and sent.

And honestly, I’m glad. It feels like I’ve spoken my truth, like I’ve lifted a huge boulder off my chest.

With that rare confidence in mind I go on and delete the picture.

In its spot, I post a picture I just now took - a mirror selfie in my homey get-up consisting of hot pink sweatpants and an oversized blue tee, my hair in a messy bun, my face free of make-up.

I caption it: ‘Oops, had the e-girl filter on for the last one. This is filterless me tho so...Hi 🥴’

A lot better, I’m surprised to hear my inner voice say. I hope I don’t get used to all this kindness on my brain’s part, probably won’t last, but damn if I don’t milk every second of it.

Just then, I receive a new message from non other than Corpse.

“Now that’s the girl I see when I think of you. She’s super cute 😉“

My, oh my, who would’ve guessed Corpse has a game like that - and by that I mean the ability to make me blush so intensely with only a text message.

Now ain’t that better than being someone else, Y/N?

It sure is, it sure is.

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the-king-andthe-lionheart · 3 years

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So this is definitely in response to that certain dark section of our fandom (you know exactly who you are) who are throwing a fit about the Arya and Daenerys fandoms enjoying the possibility of a canon Daenarya friendship in the future. So let’s look at all the quotes that possibly foreshadow a future Arya and Dany friendship and put it into context.

It was very dark right now, she realized. She hugged her bare knees tight against her chest and shivered. She would wait quietly and count to ten thousand. By then it would be safe for her to come creeping back out and find her way home.

By the time she had reached eighty-seven, the room had begun to lighten as her eyes adjusted to the blackness. Slowly the shapes around her took on form. Huge empty eyes stared at her hungrily through the gloom, and dimly she saw the jagged shadows of long teeth. She had lost the count. She closed her eyes and bit her lip and sent the fear away. When she looked again, the monsters would be gone. Would never have been. She pretended that Syrio was beside her in the dark, whispering in her ear. Calm as still water, she told herself. Strong as a bear. Fierce as a wolverine. She opened her eyes again.

The monsters were still there, but the fear was gone.

Arya got to her feet, moving warily. The heads were all around her. She touched one, curious, wondering if it was real. Her fingertips brushed a massive jaw. It felt real enough. The bone was smooth beneath her hand, cold and hard to the touch. She ran her fingers down a tooth, black and sharp, a dagger made of darkness. It made her shiver.

"It's dead," she said aloud. "It's just a skull, it can't hurt me." Yet somehow the monster seemed to know she was there. She could feel its empty eyes watching her through the gloom, and there was something in that dim, cavernous room that did not love her. She edged away from the skull and backed into a second, larger than the first. For an instant she could feel its teeth digging into her shoulder, as if it wanted a bite of her flesh. Arya whirled, felt leather catch and tear as a huge fang nipped at her jerkin, and then she was running. Another skull loomed ahead, the biggest monster of all, but Arya did not even slow. She leapt over a ridge of black teeth as tall as swords, dashed through hungry jaws, and threw herself against the door. - Arya III AGOT

Here is the initial passage that has to do with dragons in Arya’s story. She comes across the dragon skulls in the dark and feels afraid of them. She feels as if the eyes of the skulls were watching her and did not like her. She also doesn’t recognize them for what they are. She initially refers to them as monsters, but later she comes to realize they are dragons:

This time the monsters did not frighten her. They seemed almost old friends. Arya held the candle over her head. With each step she took, the shadows moved against the walls, as if they were turning to watch her pass. "Dragons," she whispered. She slid Needle out from under her cloak. The slender blade seemed very small and the dragons very big, yet somehow Arya felt better with steel in her hand. - Arya IV AGOT

Now admittedly the first quote does sound like the foreshadowing could suggest antagonism between Arya and Dany, but the second quote doesn’t suggest this. Arya thinks of them as if they are old friends. That is the most notable sentence of the paragraph, not the fact that she slid Needle out. But when you actually look at this paragraph you actually see a duality here. The monsters did not frighten her. They seemed almost old friends. Yet she slides her blade out and feels better? So for me this quote just seems to foreshadow that Dany will be Arya’s friend, yet Arya will remain wary of her dragons like anyone naturally would be.

So putting these two quotes into context, it tells us that if Arya and Dany will meet they will initially be antagonistic and wary of each other (most Daenarya fans I’ve seen acknowledge this will likely be the case). However it also suggests that this wariness will eventually fade and they will become friends. Arya doesn’t need to think she is wholly safe from the dragons to have a friendship with Dany. EVERYONE is wary about the dragons, just like most people would be unsure and most likely afraid if they were in the same room as a large cat or a bear.

But this isn’t Arya’s only dragon connections in the narrative. Arya’s closest relationship is with Jon, who is half Targaryen. In Braavos Arya is fascinated by the courtesans and the Black Pearl in particular:

"The Black Pearl," she told them. Merry claimed the Black Pearl was the most famous courtesan of all. "She's descended from the dragons, that one," the woman had told Cat. "The first Black Pearl was a pirate queen. A Westerosi prince took her for a lover and got a daughter on her, who grew up to be a courtesan. Her own daughter followed her, and her daughter after her, until you get to this one [...] - Cat of the Canals AFFC

The woman with him could not have been more than a third his age. She was so lovely that the lamps seemed to burn brighter when she passed. She had dressed in a low-cut gown of pale yellow silk, startling against the light brown of her skin. Her black hair was bound up in a net of spun gold, and a jet-and-gold necklace brushed against the top of her full breasts. As they watched, she leaned close to the envoy and whispered something in his ear that made him laugh. "They should call her the Brown Pearl," Mercy said to Daena. "She's more brown than black."

"The first Black Pearl was black as a pot of ink," said Daena. "She was a pirate queen, fathered by a Sealord's son on a princess from the Summer Isles. A dragon king from Westeros took her for his lover."

"I would like to see a dragon," Mercy said wistfully. - Mercy TWOW

There is even foreshadowing that Arya will form a closer relationship with the Black Pearl in the future by becoming an apprentice for her so Arya can refine her highborn manners so it’s easier for the FM to place her into highborn society to do their work, because why not utilize a highborn girl in this way?

But also notice that Arya/Mercy is friends with a girl named “Daena” which is ridiculously close to the name Daenerys. And in the same conversation with Daena (Daenerys) Arya/Mercy also said she wished to see a dragon. And no this isn’t “Mercy’s” wish, this is Arya’s wish:

As Arya crossed the yard to the bathhouse, she spied a raven circling down toward the rookery, and wondered where it had come from and what message it carried. Might be it's from Robb, come to say it wasn't true about Bran and Rickon. She chewed on her lip, hoping. If I had wings I could fly back to Winterfell and see for myself. And if it was true, I'd just fly away, fly up past the moon and the shining stars, and see all the things in Old Nan's stories, dragons and sea monsters and the Titan of Braavos, and maybe I wouldn't ever fly back unless I wanted to. - Arya X ACOK

Doesn’t really sound like Arya hates dragons or have any issues regarding them. She wants to see them irregardless of any fear they may inspire within her that everyone would naturally have upon seeing a dragon.

Arya also expresses a wish to fly throughout her narrative and she also has wing symbolism in her arc:

If I was a crow I could fly down and peck off his stupid fat pouty lips. - Arya X ACOK

If I had wings I could fly back to Winterfell and see for myself. And if it was true, I'd just fly away, fly up past the moon and the shining stars, and see all the things in Old Nan's stories, dragons and sea monsters and the Titan of Braavos, and maybe I wouldn't ever fly back unless I wanted to. - Arya X ACOK

I wish I could change into a wolf and grow wings and fly away. - Arya XIII ASOS

She might be bald and skinny, but Mercy had a pretty smile, and a certain grace. Even Izembaro agreed that she was graceful. She was not far from the Gate as the crows flies, but for girls with feet instead of wings the way was longer. - Mercy TWOW

Also lets not forget how similar Arya and Dany are to each other and how many parallels they share. They are both lost princesses exiled and sent to Essos, specifically Braavos, after their father's deaths at the hands of Lannister's. They each know what it's like to be bought and sold and to be enslaved – Dany as a child bride and Arya as a child soldier. And they both have pretenders trying to take their claims. Both have been forced into becoming smallfolk, living in poverty and starved. And they both know what it's like to be hunted and scared. They adapt exceedingly well into other environments and cultures, and their morality and sense of justice are very attuned, as they seek to protect those that can not protect themselves. Very protective, they are both empathetic and maternal and care for the sick, ailing, and dying. Both of them are survivors and have both suffered abuse and sexual assault (more so for Dany, but it's still there). They are both clever and know how to manipulate people. They are both polyglots and both of their deepest desires are for home and family/pack. They both try to live up to the image of their older siblings (ie Sansa and Rhaegar). Arya is said to look and act like Lyanna and Daenerys is compared to Rhaegar by the people that knew him. They are both very close to their house sigils and even dream about them and the mystical beasts they both own. They both love horseback riding and they both have encountered mystical prophets. Wanted/considered becoming sailors and they both have fantastic people skills. Not to mention that it was Arya who said that the slaves should have killed the masters, while Dany is leading a slave uprising to overthrow and yes, execute the masters.

Dany is also not some “mad queen” and she does listen to the people who knew her father and Rhaegar. She is learning the truth about the monster her father was and learning to accept that. So there is no reason why Dany should continue to feel antagonistic towards the next generation of Stark’s for something they didn’t do.

I’ve also seen comments about how the fire devastation that is within Arya’s story must clearly mean “Dark Dany” and that Arya and Dany will be antagonistic towards each other in canon when they meet. I’m assuming these people are referring to the burning barn scene:

"You take her!" she yelled. "You get her out! You do it!" The fire beat at her back with hot red wings as she fled the burning barn. It felt blessedly cool outside, but men were dying all around her. She saw Koss throw down his blade to yield, and she saw them kill him where he stood. Smoke was everywhere. There was no sign of Yoren, but the axe was where Gendry had left it, by the woodpile outside the haven. As she wrenched it free, a mailed hand grabbed her arm. Spinning, Arya drove the head of the axe hard between his legs. She never saw his face, only the dark blood seeping between the links of his hauberk. Going back into that barn was the hardest thing she ever did. Smoke was pouring out the open door like a writhing black snake, and she could hear the screams of the poor animals inside, donkeys and horses and men. She chewed her lip, and darted through the doors, crouched low where the smoke wasn't quite so thick.

A donkey was caught in a ring of fire, shrieking in terror and pain. She could smell the stench of burning hair. The roof was gone up too, and things were falling down, pieces of flaming wood and bits of straw and hay. Arya put a hand over her mouth and nose. She couldn't see the wagon for the smoke, but she could still hear Biter screaming. She crawled toward the sound. - Arya IV ACOK

Arya rolled headfirst into the tunnel and dropped five feet. She got dirt in her mouth but she didn't care, the taste was fine, the taste was mud and water and worms and life. Under the earth the air was cool and dark. Above was nothing but blood and roaring red and choking smoke and the screams of dying horses. She moved her belt around so Needle would not be in her way, and began to crawl. A dozen feet down the tunnel she heard the sound, like the roar of some monstrous beast, and a cloud of hot smoke and black dust came billowing up behind her, smelling of hell. Arya held her breath and kissed the mud on the floor of the tunnel and cried. For whom, she could not say. - Arya IV ACOK

This chapter does not mean that Dany is going to go “evil” or “mad” and start burning stuff to the ground. You guys do remember that Dany has three dragons right? And that Dany is only the dragonrider to Drogon? That leaves two other possible dragons that could be stolen from Dany. We have Euron/Victarion who has the dragon binder horn and then we have Aegon who may or may not be able to claim one of those dragons for himself. There is also the possibility that Euron dies or Aegon dies and someone else will take their places as dragonriders via Targaryen blood or use of that horn. So besides Dany we have Aegon, Jon, Euron, and Tyrion who may all ride dragons within the story as they all have the proper set-up and foreshadowing for it to be a possibility. So why is it the automatic assumption that it will be Dany burning shit down?

Not to mention, wildfire has the same types of language used as the two quotes above:

And then some vast beast had let out a roar, and green flames were all around them: wildfire, pyromancer's piss, the jade demon [...] From bank to bank there was nothing but burning ships and wildfire. The sight of it seemed to stop his heart for a moment, and he could still remember the sound of it, the crackle of flames, the hiss of steam, the shrieks of dying men, and the beat of that terrible heat against his face as the current swept him down toward hell. - Davos I ASOS

So considering there not only is there a ton of foreshadowing that it will be Cersei who destroys King’s Landing with wildfire, but also there is foreshadowing that Jon Connington will do something incredibly drastic to win and keep the Iron Throne for Aegon. And may I remind the audience that the fires Arya went through and experienced in the Riverlands had zero to do with Dany. They were the direct result of the Lannisters.

So if Arya IV ACOK is foreshadowing a future fire she is stuck in, there is no evidence that the fire will be caused by Dany nor that the fire is dragonfire. And if you are going to point out the show as evidence, let me tell you something, go to the youtuber The Dragon Demands and watch his videos dissecting everything about the scene of Dany burning King’s Landing by using the script, listening to BtS content, looking at the storyboards, actually noting that a scene of Cersei looking out the window, depicting her watching people put barrels of wildfire on the battlements, etc. Because the compilation he makes proves that Dany burning KL the way that she did in 8x05 was a last minute change. It was supposed to be an accidental wildfire explosion before they changed it so they could justify Jon killing her. But I’m sure even with the evidence you’ll still cling to the idea of Dark!Dany because you are incredibly insecure about your fictitious ship and your blatant mischaracterization of your favorite “pure as the driven snow /s” character, because there is literally nothing in the books that foreshadows Dany going “mad” or “dark”. So why don’t you take your jealousies about Daenerys and Arya and the very possible Daenarya friendship somewhere else.

#arya stark #daenerys targaryen #asoiaf

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lalaangeldust · 3 years

Text

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 [ 𝟑𝐤+ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 ]

[ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ] : gross sticky icky fluff // friends to lovers troupe <3 // hanta is a huge dork, we all been knew this // hanta is also sickeningly sweet and affectionate // GOD, I JUST LOVE HIM SO MUCH

[ 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ] : on a clear night, you go out to stargaze on the dorm roof; nothing out of the norm for you but in the middle of admiring the stars, sero comes out to join with something big he needs to get off his chest.

[ 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 ] : you - blue // sero - orange

[ 𝗺𝘆𝗸𝗶𝗲'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 ] : i'm totally not projecting my fantasies onto sero and i'm totally not a sucker for friends to lovers fics :| /s

Sitting on the cool concrete of the dorm roof, the night illuminated by nothing but the streetlights below you and the stars above as you lay in silence with your legs propped against the roof's ledge. You've always thought the best part of UA was how it was out of the way so the stars are clearer than they were back in the city. Although graduation is soon and end of year exams are menacingly looming over you, you couldn't resist the urge to come out and soak up the full moon's gorgeous light. Nights like these, alone on a clear night, soft music playing through your headphones, scanning the vast sky, connecting the dots as your eyes wander to make constellations of your own are arguably one of your most favorite things in life.

The only thing that could possibly make this better is... him.

Eyes trailing to the brightest star you can find and admiring how it sticks out from everything else in your vision, your mind uncontrollably wanders to Sero. How that star kinda reminds you of him...

Ugh! what a ridiculous thing to think! Damn him for always finding a way to worm into your thoughts. Your hands fly to your forehead with a smack, outwardly groaning as you drag your fingers down your face in an attempt to shake off your thoughts. You've been friends with him for nearly three years! You would think you'd be over your petty crush on him by now. You two are practically siblings with how you two are almost always attached at the hip, always causing trouble together, always there when the other needed it, always making you feel safe... It would be weird to have feelings for him... right..?

But before you could rationalize your emotions any further, a hand reaches for your headphones, lifting one side off your ear as you hear a soft voice murmur behind you, “The moon’s beautiful tonight, isn't it?”

You practically jump out of your skin, immediately shooting up to take a defensive position. Although you can’t make out the silhouette you’re now facing, the all too familiar laughter that comes from them is more than enough to give away who this false intruder could be and you sigh in relief.

“Sero! You scared me half to death!!” you exclaim, relaxing your shoulders at seeing his familiar frame emerge through the dim light.

Tall and lean with a smile that could nearly rival the sun, the boy chuckles at you. His long pitch black hair he's been growing out for the past year cascading down the sides of his face, just barely brushing past his shoulders framing his face in a way that makes his dashing features stand out even more. Sero approaches you wearing a loose muscle tank top with his hands tucked in ill fitting sweats and a pair of black stud earrings he stole from you in his ears.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Sero chuckled, "I didn't mean to scare you so bad, doll". You send him a deep glare through the darkness and he throws his hands up out of his pockets to either side of his head in defense.

"...Maybe you shouldn't sit out here with music blasting in your ears,” Sero snarks back, “I could’ve been a villain,” he continues mockingly, “Not to mention that horrible stance you took. I don't think you’d fair very well against a villain while sitting down,” he teases with a wide grin smeared on his face. You scoff and roll your eyes in response.

“Are you only here to tell me how much of a hazard I am? Or do you want anything else, tape face?” you grumble.

“Oh, you wound me!” Sero exclaims dramatically, “I was simply wondering what my lil’ muffin was up to,” he muses, the dimples on his cheeks becoming visible as his grin only stretches wider as he speaks.

“Oh god, muffin!?!? ew!” you groan, “What the hell, I thought we agreed on no more stupid pet names,” you say with a giggle while scrunching up your nose.

“I didn't think it was stupid,” Sero huffs as he plops himself down next to you and wrinkles his nose back at you, “Muffin is a valid nickname. You just have no taste,” he concludes with a short nod, still smiling like an idiot.

You just roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at him before tilting your head up to go back to looking at the stars. Sero chuckles softly, staring at you for a moment while admiring you as you look at the sky with a softened smile on his face.

“Why you up so late?” he inquired.

“I could ask you the same thing, Sero,” you reply while throwing your head back down to look at him.

“Mmm, well, I was sleeping but… I suddenly woke up and couldn't go back to sleep,” he grunts as he adjusts himself into a more comfortable sitting position next to you.

You hum in acknowledgment before you look back up to the stars in the sky and Sero is left to admire you once again. How your eyes glimmer with the stars as the full moon softly illuminates your frame is a breathtaking view he would never tire of. The look on your face when you gaze at the sky, the look of pure adoration and awe is a look he hopes, prays, dreams you’ll give him one day.

“What’re you thinking, hun?” he softly asks, hoping you’d give him just the slightest glimpse of what goes on in your head. You pause for a moment, taking in his question and wondering how to answer it.

“Just thinking. Thinking thoughts. Nothing notable or important, I can assure you. Just enjoying the clear night,” you say, swerving his question to avoid the real answer. him.

“Ah, that was a rather vague answer,” he jests, mildly disappointed that you didn't let him in and you only hum in response.

“What about you?” you ask, “What made you wanna come up here?”

“Oh, well..” he begins but is held back by a lump that suddenly lodges in his throat, not really wanting to fully admit why he came up here with you.

In reality he hadn't slept at all. He’s embarrassed to admit it but he couldn't stop thinking of you all night, all day in fact. You just about consume his every thought and tonight, no matter what he did, he just couldn’t shake the thought of being with you.

After being so close with you for years now, people often assume the two of you are dating but the idea is almost always dismissed by a shy laugh and an averted gaze... Sero would be lying if he ever said he didn't relish the idea of being in a romantic relationship with you but... You never seemed all that interested in the idea and Sero was too scared to push the idea you may like him even half as much as he likes you. Never going farther than light hearted flirting and banter, some may call him a coward maybe but to him? Being your friend was enough. Well, that was until Mina and Kiri gave him a harsh wake up call earlier that morning.

They were scolding him on how painfully obvious it is how both you and Sero are nearly head over heels for one another, how they've spent the past year pining for one another, yet the both of you have stayed so blind to the fact you have feelings for each other. Absolutely dumbfounded by this, he asks what he should do about it, about you, to which they immediately and overwhelmingly demand him to confess his feelings for you. That is the real reason he came to find you.

“When I was trying to go back to sleep, I thought about something someone said… about taking chances,” he spoke in a soft and thoughtful tone, “Taking that blind leap of faith into the unknown things we’re afraid of because... what’s the worst that can happen…?” he pauses, rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly realizing how silly he probably sounds as he looks at you, “I dunno- sounds kinda dumb now that I say it out loud,” he says dismissively.

“No, no. I don't think it sounds dumb at all. I think it’s very insightful” you say, ushering him to continue by resting your head on your palm as you look at him intently to show your interest.

“Well, uh,” butterflies swarm to his chest as he tries to find the words to speak, finding it much harder to talk when he knows he has your full attention.

“Well, it led me to think about you 'cus I know that's something you talk about a lot as well… and I figured since it's a full moon tonight, you'd be up here,” he concludes. His gaze nervously shifting to his feet, averting his eyes from you to try and calm the fluttering nerves in his chest.

“I’m glad you did,” you hum, a low warmth growing in your chest from knowing he thought about you, “I enjoy your company,” you add thoughtfully. Though you probably just meant it in a friendly way, it didn’t change how much it meant to Sero to know you like having him around.

“I’m happy to hear that,” Sero chuckles nervously, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he slightly scooches closer to you. You take notice and you subtly tilt to the side, leaning in his direction not yet touching shoulders but leaving an opening to do so if he wanted.

“I uh- I also wanted to tell you something- In regards to what I was thinking about…” Sero mumbles nervously, hoping you didn’t catch what he said so he would have an excuse to not go through with his confession. Pretend like nothing happened and move on to just enjoy the simple friendship you two share.

“Oh?” You inquire, “What do you want to tell me? I’m all ears,” Sero fiddles with his thumbs, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before he speaks as you patiently wait for him.

"I- uh, I love you," he blurts, head swimming as he looks at you, eager and insatiably nervous to hear how you may respond, horrified you may not reciprocate his feelings and ultimately ruining what relationship you two did have.

"I love you too, Sero," you giggle.

Sero's heart drops, confidence dwindling as he assumes you thought he said "I love you" in the way you two always have. Just as friends. But he didn't. He meant it. He meant it in so many more ways he couldn't even begin to describe. He didn't expect you to reciprocate his feelings in the first place but that doesn't make him hurt any less.

"No, you don't understand," Sero sighs as he runs his hands through his long, thick hair, "I'm in love with you," You turn you head to him, Did he-? eyes widening at what Sero said, unsure if what you heard was a wishful hallucination or not. When you said "I love you" back, you genuinely meant it in the same way he does now. God, you've been in love with him for what seems like the first moment you two met but you would've never guessed Sero felt the same for you.

You sit in silence for a beat trying processes what Sero had just said to you. Your friend, your closest friend, is in love with you..? Something you've dreamt of becoming a reality. You start to get dizzy from the overwhelming euphoria and anxiety the realization simultaneously brings. You look at Sero, placing your hand on his to ground yourself as you look up at him, a warm smile spreading on your face.

"I love you too, Hanta," you say earnestly. Sero's heart leaps in his chest at your words. Not only did the person of his dreams reciprocate his feelings but they also addressed him by his first name?! He might as well be dreaming. Hearing his name fall off your lips like warm honey for the first time sends him flying through cloud nine.

"Y-you mean it??" Sero stutters, still unable to believe it. You give him a heartfelt smile as you squeeze his hand before standing up. You wordlessly walk around Sero and crouch behind him.

Utterly confused and growing increasingly flustered at your sudden close proximity, Sero opens his mouth to ask what you could possibly be doing but you shush him before he can say a word. Leaning against him, you ask permission to grab his hand and Hanta lets you guide his finger to the brightest star in the sky, hyperaware of every subtle shift, adjustment and breath you take behind him, clinging onto every passing moment.

"You see that star? The really really bright one right there and how it's brighter than the others?" you ask.

"Yeah... why.?" he questions, eager to hear what you have to say.

"Forgive me if this is too cheesy but it sorta reminds me of you," you say softly.

"Wh- I don't think a follow," Hanta replies and you give a short, breathy chuckle in response.

"Out of all the stars in the sky, you stick out to me to most. You're the brightest star," you murmur close to him, guiding his hand back down and you make your way to sit next to him. Hanta takes a moment to process what you said. Him? A star? He doesn't understand how you view him in such a way when there isn't much special about him in the first place... but he tries not to pay any mind to those thoughts as his eyes are glued to you sitting back down beside him.

"Pff, that was super cheesy," he snorts.

"Shut up, I'm trying my best," you grumble, "And... that's what I was really thinking about before you came," Hanta looks at you in awe, nothing but love and kindness filling his eyes as he gingerly grabs your hand, lifting it up level to his face.

"It's aright, doll, I was only teasing.. I think it's cute and~," he hums before placing a soft kiss on your knuckle, "I'm ok with cheesy," he concludes with a wink. Heat blooms on your cheeks at his action and you throw your head to the side, covering your mouth and cheek with your other hand in embarrassment. Hanta chuckles, just about ready to burst at how adorable you are and gets a sudden burst of confidence coursing through him from seeing your flustered form.

"Aw, don't get shy on me now, love," he coos, tugging your arm to usher you to look back at him. You look at him with a flustered scowl and Hanta isn't sure if you did it to intimidate him or what but all it did was make his heart scream for you more. His hand slides to your forearm and his other hand goes to grab your other arm, pulling it away from your face.

"Here, come here, baby," he murmurs, pulling your arms to guide you to his lap. You give little resistance as you follow Hanta's hands, shifting around to make yourself comfortable against him as you settle between his thighs. As soon as you got comfortable, Hanta's arms find their home around your waist, hugging you close and breathing you in. You sigh contently as your back rests against his strong chest, never feeling safer than you do right now in his arms.

"It's ok if I call you baby now, right..?" Hanta asks, not wanting to be too much at one time.

"Well, it would be if we were dating," you tease with a raised brow.

"Wha-?" Hanta looks at you confused for a moment before he realizes, "Oh! How could I forget," he chuckles softly, cupping your face in his large palm, guiding your face too look at him, his dark eyes practically engulfing you in his loving gaze.

"Would you care to be my partner..?" he purrs, voice dipping to a soft and low tone that sends goosebumps down your spine.

"W-well, when you put it like that how can I say no?" you mumble, not being able to help the heat rising up your neck, painting your cheeks pink once again from how small you feel under Hanta's enchanting gaze.

"So... is that a yes..?" Hanta inquires, hand still placed tenderly on our cheek. You nod your head against his palm, fingers caressing up and down his forearm as he holds you.

"Mhm, I would love nothing more," you reply in a soft and tender tone. Hanta melts at your words, feeling on top the world and like he can do anything. An uncontrollable smile erupts on his face, charming dimples ornamenting his cheeks as he hugs you tight to his body not wanting to ever let go.

You shuffle in his arms to turn yourself around in his lap. Now facing him, you tuck your face into the crook of Hanta's neck, wrapping your arms and legs snuggly around his torso. Hanta holds you equally as close, affectionately running his fingers up and down your back in complete bliss with you snuggling up to him.

"Can I kiss you..?" Hanta asks, voice just barely above a whisper. You lift your head up to look him in his deep eyes and you cup his face in your hand. Hanta leans into your touch, grabbing your hand on his face and guides it down just enough to plant a chaste kiss to the edge of your palm. You sigh and softly smile, nodding at the boy's question.

"Please kiss me," you murmur, leaning closer into his body. Hanta places his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you and a colliding your lips together. Though it was clumsy at first, you quickly adapt and your lips lock together like puzzle pieces. Tenderly, Hanta pulls away from you and rests his forehead against yours. The kiss you shared was short and sweet but still left the both of you breathless and yearning for more.

"May I kiss you again?" Hanta questions playfully and you giggle in response while nodding your head against him. He leans in, smiling against you as you mash lips with together, the both of you sighing into the other's mouth. This kiss a lot more confident than the last as Hanta takes the lead to explore every bit of you he can, taking note of every noise, movement and reaction you give. This time you pull away, surfacing for air from Hanta's intense hold on you.

"I can kiss you again, right?" Hanta asks again.

"How many more kisses do you want??" you giggle.

"That is a dangerous question to ask, my love," Hanta purrs into you, his breath ghosting your neck as he nuzzles his face underneath your jaw and lays a soft peck where his face lies, "I'd take all of them," he says, scanning your face for any discomfort but once he sees you're ok with him continuing, he lays another peck on your neck.

You laugh at the ticklish feeling, lacing your fingers through his dark hair as he continues showering you with short kisses.

"Let me know if I'm being too much, yeah?" kiss on your neck, "I don't wanna be too much," another kiss on the neck, "or overwhelm you," kiss on your jaw, "'cus that would be sad," kiss on the corner of your mouth.

"Hanta!" you squeal through giggles.

"I'm sorry, hun" kiss on your cheekbone, "I just can't resist," kiss on your cheek, "you have no idea," kiss on the chin, "just how long," kiss on the nose, "I've wanted," kiss on the eyelid "to do this," kiss on the brow, "And now," kiss on the temple, "I can't," kiss on the forehead, "Stop,"

Erupting with giggles, you desperately try to squirm away as Hanta continues to relentlessly shower you with kisses.

"No, no, no! Hanta!" you cry through your laughter, "No more!"

Giving you one last peck on the lips before pulling away, Hanta finally gives into your pleas and stops his assault of kisses. He presses his forehead against yours as you calm down from your laughing fit, pulling some giggles from Hanta as well because of your contagious laugh.

"I love you," you sigh once you've finally calmed down. Hanta hums in response, placing his hand on the back of your head, letting his fingers lace through your hair.

"I love you too," he says, heart feeling full and beaming with joy.

Forever and always~

𝒇𝒊𝒏 . ✩

[ lil easter egg of sorts for those of you who don't know~ in Japanese when you ask someone "The moon is beautiful, isn't it?" or

『月が綺麗ですね』 // "tsuki ga kirei desu, ne?"

it's actually a very poetic way to confess your love to the person you're asking ]

[ I think it's literally so fucking cute 'cus i myself am deeply in love w/ the moon :) ]

[ if this were a thing in English and someone confessed to me this way, i would immediately demand for their hand in marriage >:| ]

[ god, japanese culture is so cool, i love it sm ]

ALSO- CAN WE NORMALISE ASKING SOMEONE OUT BY ASKING THEM TO BE YOUR PARTNER INSTEAD OF BF / GF????

"would you care to be my partner?" UHBIJNIJAHHHH LITERALLY SO ROMANTIC AND GENUINE HOLY SHIT- i'm making myself simp

RAAAHHHHHHH

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elainevc · 3 years

Text

please stay pt. 2

fem!reader x levi

⚠️ Trigger Warning ⚠️: Mentions of blood, vomit, low appetite, weight loss, illness, needles, angst

Please do not read if these themes are triggers. Your mental health is more important than stories on the internet. Please take care of yourself <3

Weeks had passed since Levi had confessed. Your health wasn't getting better, but it wasn't getting worse. So, he took that as a blessing.

Hange did experiments and tests every day. They discovered you had alba rheumatismus rulmonum; your lungs were slowly collapsing and you weren't healing because your body was too busy trying to get the nutritions you lacked.

She explained that it was common in women who lived inside wall Rose. Only thirty years ago was a cure developed. The disease practically disappeared after that.

But now that you were diagnosed, the cure was difficult to get a hold of. Erwin had to pull some very special strings to get the syringe in their hands. It was nerve-wracking to say the least, but you wanted to get better. The survey corps needed as many soldiers as they could get and you weren't about to roll over and be killed by a little coughing.

The finally came when the procedure would take place. The 104th cadets visited you in the morning to wish you good luck. Sasha made sure to show up with a bowl of soup from breakfast.

Before they left, Levi entered the room and shooed them out.

He walked over to your bedside and carefully grabbed your hand. His cold fingers traced over your skin.

"How are you feeling," he asked like he was almost afraid of the answer.

"Eh, could be worse. At least I'm not titan food." He smiled but it wasn't genuine. The air was tense as he got lost in his rhoughts.

His eyes had a far-away look in them as he stared at your intertwined hands. When you squeezed he met your gaze. You lifted your hand to cup his cheek and like a cat he leaned into your touch. You gently led him down to your face.

"Don't be so dramatic. It's not like I'm gonna die," you joke but he doesn't seem entertained.

He was only focused on your lips as he met your mouth to his. It was soft and tender and you could feel how much emotion he was trying to convey. Levi always struggled to express his feelings and you were aware of this.

Just as you were about to start moving, he pulled away.

"Promise me you'll stay," he nearly pleaded with you. He was desperate. You smiled and nodded. Like hell you were going to leave him all by himself.

It was strange watching the seemingly emotionless captain breakdown in front of you. You knew better than anyone that he did in fact care about his comrades and he just struggled to express that.

"Hey," you spoke softly with your fingers pulling his chin up to face you, "I'm not gonna leave you."

He took in a long breath to settle his nerves and nodded.

Erwin and Hange entered quietly, a small box tucked under the section commander's arm. She began preparing the injection while Erwin walked over to you.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm ready to get this over with so I can get back out in the field."

Erwin hummed in response. His brows were furrowed in thought. Despite your long-standing friendship with him, the commander still found a way to make you nervous. Or maybe it was your body preparing for the next few days of hell. Either way, his gaze was frightening and you found yourself gripping Levi's hand a little.

Hange walked over with gloves on and the needle ready for you.

You forced yourself to put on a brave face and roll up your sleeve. They wiped your skin down and meet your eyes. The needle was inches from your skin but felt like it was already in.

They slowly pierced the skin and flushed the syringe dry of... whatever was inside.

It didn't feel any different. She pulled away and returned to the box to clean the supplies. Erwin placed a patch of thin gauze over the injection.

Levi helped you stand and led you to your room. You all agreed it would be best to go through the side effects in a comfortable environment. The cadets had helped move some buckets and what-not into the room earlier that morning.

You sat on your bed carefully and Levi stayed standing in front of you. He watched you sway a little as you felt fatigue grab a hold of you.

He knelt down so he was eye level with you. His steel blue irises stared intently at you. Neither of you spoke for a long moment before he decided to put his hand on the side of your face.

His fingers tickled your ear and his palm was warm against your cheek. You moved forward slightly to meet him.

Your lips connected with his in a soft, tender kiss. It was passionate as he tried to convey everything he was feeling in one single moment. He tasted like black tea and you found yourself loving that.

The two of you separated but he leaned in again to kiss your forehead sweetly.

You felt like you could melt right then and there.

"Geg some sleep brat. You don't need to feel any worse tomorrow." You grinned up at him. He didn't mean for it to be funny but he enjoyed your smile nonetheless.

You moved to get comfortable and fell asleep quickly under the covers. Levi sat in an armchair tucked in the corner. He never got much sleep anyway so staying up to make sure you would be okay wasn't a problem to him.

The night passed uneasily. The medication was starting to sink in and your body was becoming more uncomfortable every hour. You tossed and turned relentlessly but never once woke from your sleep.

Levi stood and poked your cheek. You stirred a little but didn't wake. He poked you again until you opened your eyes and looked at him.

"Come on, you need to eat something."

The covers were too warm to leave their safe embrace so you simply curled into them more. Levi rolled his eyes at you and left the room to prepare your breakfast.

He knew you appreciated a cup of tea when you didn't feel good.

The kitchen was oddly silent and Levi wondered where the cadets had gone. Sasha must have already had her breakfast if she wasn't in the kitchen at the moment.

Levi carried the tray of food back to your room, but when he entered your bed was empty.

The sound of gagging came from the bathroom. He set the tray down and hurried to your side. You were hunched over a bucket hurling your innards out. Yeah this was Levi, and he was obviously grossed out by the vomit, but a part of him still wanted to kneel by your side and comfort you.

He decided on a happy medium of pulling your hair back (or rolling up your sleeves if you don't have hair or wear a cap) and resting a hand on your back.

You finished shortly after and cleaned your mouth. It was safe to say you weren't hungry any more.

You returned to the bed as a sudden wave of heat hit your body. Sweat formed on your skin and threatened to drip down your face.

"Levi.. can I get a cold cloth," you ask quietly.

He nods and comes back to your side with a brown towel. He adjusts it on your forehead and instantly feel better. You cough a little to clear your throat, but this sends you into a coughing fit.

You sit up and continue into your arm. The familar taste of iron fills your mouth and soon the inside of your sleeve is coated with blood.

Fuck, this was going to be a shitty week.

The next few days were filled with your constant changing temperature and occasional vomitting. Hange assured Levi that this was the normal process and that you would get better soon. He didn't believe it entirely, or maybe that was just his cynical side.

Your thinning frame and pale skin reminded him too much of his mom. You barely ate anything and couldn't get out of bed most of the time. The bucket seemed to always be in use.

Levi hated watching you like this. He hated seeing you fall apart in front of him and that there was nothing he could do about it.

He knew that the best thing to do was to trust Hange and Erwin buf that was harder than he thought. His trust dwindled the worse you got and the two of them knew he was nervous. They saw the way he looked at your sleeping form, the way he hurried to fulfill any sudden need of yours.

It was all too unsure for him to be relaxed.

The day you stood from your bed on your own was the day he felt his heart beat a little faster.

The day you were able to walk without assistance made him want to run to you and pick up. He wanted to twirl you around in one swift motion and hold your body close to his.

The day you ate 3 whole meals was the day Levi made a promise to himself.

He promised himself to never let you go and to keep you safe until the moment he dies. He promised to protect you and never see you hurt ever again.

He wanted you to stay with him and be his forever.

That was all he wanted after that.

#levi angst #levi ackerman #snk levi #aot levi #levi x reader #levi attack on titan #captain levi #attack on titan levi #levi ackermann #levi fluff #snk angst

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themandylion · 3 years

Note

97 & 41 jaytim

Oh wow, this ended up long. /o\

97 (Time Travel) + 41 (First Kiss) + JayTim

He's boosting tires in the Bowery when the thugs find him. Crowd him up against a wall and threaten him with bodily harm for horning in on their territory, even though this part of the city is a free-for-all, with no one reigning supreme. There's three of them to his one, all of them full-grown men with bulging muscles and nasty tempers and Jason knows he's in his final moments, that there's no way he's escaping this. Still, that doesn't mean he's going to go down without a fight. He squares his shoulders, plants his feet, raises the tire iron in his hand, and—

Between one blink and the next, the back-most thug is on the ground, groaning and clutching his crotch. There's a blur of red, and then the next one's down on his knees, the crowbar he was gripping half a block away and the hand that was holding it pinned to the wall by a slim, sharp-edged disk.

Silver flashes through the night, and the final guy collapses in a heap, just sprawled out on the pavement like he's not even human anymore, just a pile of discard clothes over something lumpy and unmoving. Someone lands on his back, light and nimble and impossibly tall. "You okay there, kid?" the new person asks, crouching down so he's at Jason's level and smiling.

"…Batman?" He's only ever seen the Bat from a distance before, but he's heard about the cape and cowl, and this guy has both.

The guy shakes his head. "Nope, not him. I'm his partner, though."

"Robin wears green," Jason feels compelled to point out, because he's definitely seen Robin before, though always on the TV, when the Teen Titans are fighting really scary bad guys elsewhere in the world.

This time, a shadow seems to pass over the man's face, sad and unhappy. "I'm a different kind of Robin. Red Robin. I'm pretty new, it's not surprising you haven't heard of me." He leans back on his heels and glances around at the thugs, frowning. "I've got to tie these guys up and leave them somewhere the GCPD will find them. Do you think you can get home on your own?"

Jason gulps, staring up at him, at the way all that tight leather and spandex hugs his body. Gee whiz. "Yeah, I. I can take care of myself. Thanks!" He surges forward, practically smacking his mouth against Red Robin's cheek, before running off into the night. Maybe not headed home, but to as close as anything gets, these days.

---

Two weeks later, Batman catches him boosting tires on Crime Alley. A week later, he's going home with the man. Jason asks about Red Robin and gets a confused, clueless look, which is strange. With everything else happening, he forgets about the man in the black cowl with the silver staff, but he still finds himself drawn to that one particular shade of red.

---

He forgets until the memory is jarred out of the deepest depths years later on the other side of the multiverse, when he's bound to a chair and staring down the barrel of gun. A gun held by another Batman, a different Bruce. One who did all the things he thought he wanted his Bruce to do, only to end up a broken man as a result. Jason tries to explain himself and his presence, but it's hard to when he keeps seeing that suit in the case over this Batman's shoulder.

They reach an understanding, a kind of peace. Both of them, finally, for the first time in ages. This other Bruce offers him the suit, and Jason doesn't think twice before putting it on. He's traveled across the multiverse, seen places where dead people live again, where evil people are good and vice versa. It's not too far a stretch to believe that somehow, he's going become his own childhood hero.

When he finishes pulling on the last piece, Bruce looks on him with pride and announces, "Red Robin lives!"

"Red…?" Jason murmurs, more than a little startled. It's been so long, he'd nearly forgotten the name, but it fits, it makes sense. Finally, he's back on the right path, back to being someone the boy he once was could be proud of. Will be proud of, when their paths cross again, which he's sure they will.

---

The other Batman dies.

---

They get back, finally done traveling across the multiverse, fleeing across Apokolips, running from plagues and maybes and might-have-beens. Donna and Rayner return to wherever they call home, and Jason... He thought he finally found himself when he put on the cowl and became Red Robin, but with everything that happened after that moment, all the contrition he gained has been too long stewing in a half-broken heart. He isn't sure who rescued him when he was a kid, but it wasn't him, and it wasn't the long-dead Jason of another world. Maybe it was no one at all, and he made it all up and convinced himself it was real.

He runs back to Gotham, strips off the cape and cowl, the bandoliers and leather. Throws it all in the trash and goes to knock some heads and blow off some steam, anything to escape from what the rest of the Justice League brought with them—a sob story and a broken, days-old body.

---

The suit disappears from the can where he threw it, and he thinks good riddance to bad rubbish, but the person who's wearing it now doesn't understand the significance, the legacy. Doesn't know what it symbolizes, a last chance at redemption, a final loss of innocence.

The new kid distracts him, muddies the water and still Jason doesn't see it, doesn't realize what's happening. Even when the kid takes the cowl, adds it to his green-free suit, he doesn't see it.

Jason's too busy fighting, too busy screaming, raging, being angry at himself and the world to realize how things are swirling tighter and tighter, closing in, twining together, weaving themselves in an intricate, impossible mesh that's new and old and always existing all at the same time. The three of them—him and Dick and the new kid—push and shove and fight and scream and grieve in their own ways, trying to figure out who they're going to be now, what the world is without Bruce.

He ignores overtures of friendship, leaves the kid broken and bleeding out and thinks nothing of it, still too busy hurting and too busy denying he hurts.

Thinks nothing of Robin back on the streets in red and green and black and yellow, a different boy, an actual child.

---

Bruce comes back, but he's just as stubborn as always, and Jason burned the last of his bridges while the old man was playing possum. There's nothing left for him to do but lurk in the shadows and grit his teeth and watch Drake bounce around the city in a costume that isn't his, telling himself he doesn't care, that it doesn't rub him the wrong way.

Doesn't actually realize what's happening until one day he's watching as Drake races across the city, ready to step in and stop him if he dares to cross into Red Hood's territory when suddenly—

There's no one. The roof's empty, not a soul in sight.

He swings over, investigates. There's a strange acrid smell in the air along with the faintest traces of sweat and exhaustion, but there's no clue to where he's gone, no hint. Minutes pass and the sky is getting darker as evening turns into night. Just when he's given up, Drake reappears, but still, unmoving. One hand grasping his staff while the other touches his cheek and he stares into nothing, dazed and unfocused.

His attention snaps up, and Jason is too startled to move, still standing there in the middle of the roof, the two of them locked in place.

"Holy fuck." He can't. This isn't—

He's tried to kill Drake multiple times over the years. They've barely had a conversation that hasn't ended with Jason drawing a knife or a gun, and more often than not he comes out on top. Leaves the guy knowing that he's alive at Jason's mercy.

But now he's standing there, finally grown into the Red Robin suit and name, filling it in all the right places, all the right ways, grasping a staff that Jason somehow failed to recognize until this exact moment.

"I never—" He never thought to make the connection, always assumed it had to be someone else, some one huge. Big enough to match the larger-than-life figure that dominated a half-forgotten memory.

"Huh." Red Robin collapses his staff, clips it his belt. "Random time blip? I didn't even realize."

Which would explain it. Of course he didn't realize—no way would he have helped that other, younger Jason if he'd known who it was. Why save a boy who's going to grow up to become a monster bent on destroying him over and over again. "Sorry," Jason says, startled, confused, unable to wrap his head around it all as he stumbles backwards, tries to do what he always does when he's confronted with too much, too fast—run.

Red Robin—Drake—tilts his head to the side and then does something completely unexpected. He shoves back the cowl and studies Jason with cool, clear eyes. "I have a feeling this has been a weird night for both of us. You could stick around. We could figure this out together."

So help him, Jason hesitates. "Time travel is pretty weird."

"I was thinking more being kissed by my childhood crush. But yeah, that too."

"Your… what?"

"Come on," he says, holding out a hand. "I think it's time we finally talked. Maybe without the death threats this time?"

Gulping, Jason takes that hand in his.

It's not much, but. It's a start.

(The Fanfic Trope MASH-UP is still open for asks!)

#JayTim #time travel #Red Robin #ask meme #anonymous #themandylion writes #my fic #weirdly canon compliant in its own special way 🤔#trope mash up

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abbynx · 3 years

Text

La Squadra Esecuzione as Best Friends Headcanons

Formaggio - Very chill, first and foremost, he is down for anything to do. Videogames? He'll try to beat your ass. Cat cafes? Heck ye he is down - The type of friend who will coax you to cut class to hang out behind the school or climb over the school fence to hang around the local arcade or theatre. But if he get caught, he won't snitch and he's willing to take responsibility. Begrudgingly. - Ohhhh physical touch is bare minimum for him. He'll occasionally lean on you, perhaps shrink himself to fit himself in your pocket just to platonically cuddle and perhaps, use you as a transport. - Will high five you as a greeting, and will high five you as a farewell. Usually followed by a hug too uwu "Bro!" He holds his hand out for a high five, in which you instinctively grant him one, when he also entwines his fingers through yours and pulling you for a hug, patting your back for a second and pulling away. "I missed you bro!" - Prepare for dumb jokes, dumb puns that he effortlessly come up with as time goes by. You can't go on a day without him cracking a joke. You'd either roll your eyes at it or laugh along with him. There's nothing in between "You see that guy over there, bro?" He leans on you, arm draped around your shoulder as he points at a person from afar. "Yeah, what?" "I say... You'd be a perfect match." You glanced at him, hearing him shake a box of matches as he wiggled his eyebrows with a dumb grin. - *Finger guns and bro intensifies* Illuso - That weird person you don't see yourself associating yourself with somehow befriended him for some reason. Most likely started when you both started to wake up at 3 AM and meet in the middle of the dark, in the kitchen, wanting to grab something to eat. At first it is awkward, but soon you learned to bond through it! And soon enough, your midnight chats extended to become actual friendships! - Seems distant, but he cares. He's the type pretend not to care about you, but will glare (or more than glare depending at the severity) at people who hurt you. He is the 'I'm the only one allowed to insult them like that' type of friend. "Huh, Formaggio hasn't been teasing me. I wonder what happened." You wondered aloud, as you say beside your friend Illuso. "Must be because of his bruised jaw. The previous mission must've been tough for him." "Yeah... That..." - Probs touched-starved. He acts irritated and push you away when you try to hug him, but secretly loves it. If you stop trying to hug him, he'd be kinda sad but will not say anything. - This friendship includes you listening to him rant about every little thing, and brag about things he can't do. He appreciates you listening to be honest, and that's initially how your friendships started anyways. - Will use derogatory terms as a term of endearment. Please don't be offended, he doesn't mean any offense "Hey idiot! Get your sorry ass right here! Risotto said we have someone to take care of!" "Thanks, dumbass." "Eyo slut! Take a look at this fugly idiot!" - Does not have the habit of knocking. In fact, he just barges into your room, through the mirror. In more than one occasion has he seen you undressed but he couldn't care less about it. "Hey dumbass can I borrow your— hey, stop screaming! Anyways I ran out of hair ties, do me a solid—" - Everyone around you being confused to how you two are most unlikely to become friends, but you two are practically unlikely twins Prosciutto - You can not stop me from assuming he is quite the mom friend if you pry his shell hard enough. Perhaps a mom friend mixed with tsundere friend. "Hey! Drink your water or I'll break your ankles! No I don't care that we're in the middle of killing someone! I packed you some water and you didn't drink it! Well shit I didn't pack it specifically for you, I just managed to pack extra! Now go ahead and drink, I'll handle this one myself! While you're at it, coat yourself with sunscreen! If I hear you whining about being burnt, I swear to God—" - If you happen to be a mom friend too, you'd be bonding over the

mutual stress of having to look over the rest of the gang over a glass of wine as chaos around you ensues because you two decided to take a small break. "Formaggio and Ghiaccio is up at it again..." You sigh, swirling the content of your stemware as the distant bickering of the two aforementioned assassins echoed. "Just... Let's just lay low. It'll be over soon." Prosciutto sighs along as well, before downing his glass of whiskey. "Hopefully." And it didn't end, as it ensued and progressive got worse. Stands were called, knives were thrown, guns were shot. And two mom friends of La Squadra almost lost their voice from all the yelling and lecturing - Will scold you for your bad habits. Bad posture? He will walk behind you, press his knee on your back and roll your shoulders back whilst he lectures you about it. Messy time management? Will buy you crap to make you keep track of time. Sleeping so late? He will take whatever you're distracted with, demand you to turn your lights off as he lights soothing scented candles and tossing you some comfortable blankets to use. Barely taking care of yourself? Bro prepare yourself. "I don't understand how you live like this! You'd be dead if you were to continue that habit! At least help me help you to make you be better!" - Very blunt and honest to the point it stings, but he never lies to people he is closed to. He prefers being upfront with his loved ones and will try to rebuild their confidence and reassure them that they can be better than what they are. "When I say you're idiotic, you're but a burden, I mean it. You have all rights to be hurt by it, but don't just live with it. Prove me wrong, that you can be better than that and you'll be the best version of yourself. I know you can do it." - Will accept hugs, but will most likely not hug back. Maybe he'll just out one hand on your back and lightly stroke it, but that's it. But in rare occasions, he will return them too. Sometimes, he'll even initiate it. - Your connection to him as a friend has lead several advantages. No one in general can make a negative comment about you with Prosciutto around. His glare alone was scary and they would not wish to stick around and find out what he can do than just glaring. - Extremely appreciates when you help him around by simply carrying things for him, fetching him coffee and actually doing your damn job properly is enough to make him be filled with gratitude. Pesci - Baby. Okay, so this boy. Boy oh boy, he is baby. Take care of him, bro. Don't coddle him to the point of him being entirely dependent on you, but sis you can always reassure and make him improve himself! Perhaps a tamer version of his relationship with his brother. - You two will mostly likely be friends because you always defend him from the others from teasing him and rooting for him. He is very grateful for it and can't thank you enough. Either that, or Prosciutto paid you to babysit him. - Will constantly cling on your arm when he's anxious. It's up to you whether you'll snap at him and slap his hand away, or just let him hang around you. He'll just simply grab your wrist, and sooner and later he'd have his body pressed against yours, completely clinging on the entirety of your arm. "D-don't leave me, Y/N! I'm scared—!" - He is extremely thankful for you watching over him and protecting and by this, he tries to improve himself a lot more just so he can confidently say he can watch over you and protect you as well - Just the sweetest little thing, whenever he'd be away with Prosciutto for a mission he'd return home bearing gifts from travel and he'd give it to you. It would be something either miniature, or something practical like a knife sharpener or something. "I-I got this for you... I hope you like it! Big bro helped me pick!" - Honestly, I can imagine him just being the best, supportive and encouraging friend there could be. If ever you needed someone to confide in, he'd just sit and listen and will certainly not repeat what you told him to others. He'll try his best to comfort

you, taking inspiration to how you comfort him and will just try his best to make you feel better. "I know life is rough and hard and bad, but you always told me it will change and soon it all be over and better. It's good that you recognise you're in a bad place, now you need to take a break and then later you won't even know you've already forgotten your problem! It's okay to be sad, too, but not for too long." - The type of friend that will share anything he has. He has a cookie with him? Shit, he'll split it in half and give the other half to you. Some soda? Well I hope you don't mind drinking from the same can as he is, he will give it to you. Melone - So this nerd isn't a complete creepy pervert, not entirely at all. He's chill for most of the time, so he's a neat company if you don't mind him bombarding you with questions regarding your genetics, heritage records, blood type, zodiac signs and whatnot. But knows when to stop. - You most likely befriended him because he is one of the chill people in the group... Somewhat. Or perhaps you just started to bond over mutual love for steamy, erotic novels from the same author. If this man has shame, his guilty pleasures would be reading these types of trashy novels filled with smut. - He is great as a wingman. Complain to him about your lack of a love life, he'll observe your types and he'll somehow come up with a list by the next day enthusiastically listing them to you in a PowerPoint presentation. "If you're into girls, I have this one right here! She's compatible with your zodiac sign, although she has quite the temper she can be extremely passionate and affectionate— or perhaps you're into men, that I have as well. Several, actually. This other fellow right here is also a part of Passione from the Human trafficking branch, stoic and quite a stern one, but knows when to lay low at times and appreciate those around him— either him or the girl, you'd make good babies together!" "Melone, what the fuck—" - Very touchy. He'd lean his head on your lap as you both read on the couch, or randomly put his head on your shoulder during meetings, grab you by the arm while crossing the road, smacking your ass as a greeting (if you tell him stop, he'd stop of course), will pretend to kiss you just so he can see your reaction, anything. He is one affectionate nut that he sometimes forget about personal spaces. If you're not particularly fond of being touched like I am, simply tell him nope. I mean, he'd be sad but will respect your boundaries. The only time he'll actually respect established boundaries, to be honest. - Knows the most random facts and will share them to you for the fun of it. Additional to that, he will also mutter his shower thoughts and random cursed facts out loud just so he can curse you with the knowledge and confusion. "Did you know that dolphins masturbate using dead fishes? Also, there was an experiment involving dolphins in which one of the scientist fell in love and had sex with it. Another fact, is that dolphins are also seen doing the deed—" "Okay, Melone, I get it! Dolphins aren't as innocent as they seem! Stop ruining it for me already!" ... "Did you know that a woman once used mayonnaise as a lubri—" "MELONE!" - Being his friends meaning being his impulse control. If he intends to use his Stand on some innocent passerby just for the heck of it (for science, as he claims), smack him by the wrist and glare at him. If he eyes a particular someone for too long that the person gets too uncomfortable, try to divert his attention away. "Ow! Y/N what the heck—!" "What did I told you about oogling at people? It's impolite and creepy, stop that!" - He may not seem like it, but bro he cares a lot. If ever you had a problem, he'd sit and listen, offer you his shoulder to cry on, and perhaps hang out to divert your attention away from what's bothering and hurting you. And if you need advice, he'll try his best to come up with a flawless solution to your problems. But if comfort is what you need, his arms are open baby. Ghiaccio

- Bro you must need emergency ear plugs for this one, he is a massive screamer, a ticking time bomb with no timer that will erupt at random. If ear plugs aren't enough, cover your ears. - Befriending him was an impulse control befriending him. Well, all you did was to constantly try to calm his tits and cool his head to the point he actually barges in your room to hang out so that he can cool his head from all of the shenanigans occuring all around him, or maybe he just had another thought about something maddening about the world. "WELL WHY?! WHY IS WOMEN'S CLOTHES SIZING CHART DIFFER FROM EACH STORE?! THAT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE! INCHES AND CENTIMETRES EXISTS FOR A REASON, DAMNIT!" - There are moments where he isn't screaming, thankfully and he's a decent person to talk to. If you're a listener, he'll do the talking, just ranting about things, rambling on and on, before complaining, and then another outbursts comes out. By this, you simply sigh, put a hand on his shoulder and talk to him in a gentle, calming voice. It usually does the trick. Formaggio and Melone joked about this talent of yours as witchcraft. - He appreciates you a lot and honestly doesn't know what to do without you and by that, he knows he has to reciprocate the care you give him somehow to show he is grateful of your friendship and care. He isn't the type to be physically affectionate, but he is extremely thoughtful about his closed loved onesa and prefers to be practical about it. He would save you your seat in meetings, fetch you snacks if he ran out for an errand, etc etc. Extremely observant of your mannerisms, that he might point that out to you and you won't even realise you do that. - So like, he is very protective as a friend. He will do something whenever someone has wronged you in any way. The others teasing you? Bam, he'll shoot them back with a witty insult. Your s/o cheated on you? Ohohoho boi, be prepared to see their name on a headline on the daily news. Your order was wrong? Bam, he'll have the waiter shaking in fear from a screaming, angry Italian mafioso as he demands for them to remake your order correctly. "WELL CAGACAZZO?! QUIT STANDING AROUND AND GET ORDERS CORRECTLY—" "G-Ghiaccio it's just a minor thing, let it go—" "THEY SERVED YOU AN INGREDIENT YOU SPECIFICALLY TOLD THEM NOT TO INCLUDE BECAUSE YOU'RE ALLERGIC TO IT! WHY ARE YOU LETTING THIS SLIDE OFF?!" - All in all, he's just glad you're there for him because damn, someday his temper is going to get the best of him and he doesn't know what to do. And with your friendship, he's learned how to cope with his spontaneous anger by carrying soothing stuff to ease his nerves (courtesy of your suggestions and gifts for him) - Basically the dynamic of a rapid gremlin with rabies and a calm, sunshine personified angel. Everyone (Riz, including, but he's more subtle and dry about it) joked about the unlikely friendship, and how your ears must've lost a little bit of hearing capacity. Rissoto - I feel like he'd be extremely attached to a childhood friend. You've been friends since before you underwent the drastic change by going through a lot to get to where he is now, and still the only person that stuck around with him was you. By that, you became the most trusted by him due to the fact you've known each other for very long. - As his best friend, you're his confidant and finds himself often going to you if ever he needed advice, or needed to vent about his stress. He really isn't vocal but when he's confiding in you, his words spill out of his mouth usually sealed tightly just steadily flows, his big strong Capo veneer falls apart in front of you but he doesn't necessarily feel unsafe by being vulnerable. That's how he trusts you. - No one will dare to bad mouth you in front of the Capo, or else there'd be hell to pay for. I mean, teasing is fine, he knows you can handle burns from team mates here and there (and will silently smirk at it) but he will not stand it if they attempt to belittle you for something unreasonable. "Watch your mouth. That was

out of their control, stop blaming them for something they can't do." - The type of friend that doesn't know how to comfort someone, but will try their best. So as you spill your heart out, tears, snot, sweat and all, he'll just pull you to his chest and awkwardly pat your shoulders to get you calm and comforted. Not to mention, he is extremely stiff at the hug and is very unsure what words to say to you to not upset or offend you any further, so he'll just ride it out smoothly, and let you let it all out on his chest. It's not like he can't wash your tears, snot and sweat on his chest anyways. - Since he is very non-vocal, he's a good listener so rant all the way! Complain about the weather, about your lack of love life, about how underpaid the hitmen team is, anything! He won't find the perfect response, so he'll just nod along and perhaps comment occasionally on what your saying. "So like, ugh, I am soooo frustrated at how Prosciutto could say that to Pesci! He makes a good point, but it's redundant for him to be too harsh on him! Look, all I'm saying is, maybe Prosciutto should start choosing his words correctly so that Pesci won't feel too upset! You know???" You glanced at your friend, as he simply sat attentively beside you. He nods silently as a response. "Anyways—" - Extremely great at deduction and the way he reads people so easily is so unreal. And so he uses this to his advantage to know what's up with you whenever you seemed off. By this, he's able to tell whenever you're upset but scared to talk about it, frustrated but too busy to talk about, etc etc. And with this, he takes the time to drag you to take a seat, and talk about what's been bothering you. If you don't wish to talk about it at all, he'll let you be after with a reassurance that you can overcome whatever the heck you're going through. - Everyone is surprised that you two aren't married??? That you're just friends??? The way you two look just makes you two look like a couple and it boggles the others how you two aren't one.

#la squadra x reader #platonic #jjba part 5 #jojo golden wind #formaggio x reader #prosciutto x reader #pesci x reader #illuso x reader #melone x reader #ghiaccio x reader #risotto x reader #headcanons #friendship #x reader

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