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#I just haven’t felt the pain of pajama week in a long time
locamotivednp · 9 months
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Me, screaming and crying and gnawing at the bars of my enclosure: I’m so happy dan and phil are taking time off social media and taking time for themselves for the holiday
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1whore1gang · 11 months
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I wanted to try something
NSFW WARNING MDNI!!!!
Soooo I’ve went down the rabbit hole of werewolf!TF141 and honestly I’ve had some ideas pop up, so uh yeah this is what my brain does when it gets on tumblr
Warnings: sex…full blown smut, fingering, p in v, all the warnings y’all,….. i think i used ‘pup’ in here somewhere
MDNI!! NSFW!!
Omega!Reader x Werewolf!141
written as a f!reader
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It was like any other day, training with the 141. As the newest addition to this pack, you were pushed hard to be the best. Being one of two Omegas was even tougher, considering the other was your superior.
“Push harder rookie.” Soap’s voice rang out as you pulled yourself off the floor, exhausted and drenched in sweat. “Dig deep, you aren’t goin’ anywhere until you pin me down.”
You want to groan, complain, but you don’t. Instead you brace for impact as the sparing continues. Soap had you beat in just about every category when it came to fighting, this man was HUGE. You couldn’t keep up.
“I’m tapping out!” The words come out quick as Soap backs off.
“Already?” He questions. Soap was one of two members you’ve already met. You haven’t been here very long.
“Yeah, I’m calling it quits.” You push yourself onto your feet, panting. “You can’t expect this out of me on Day 3 can you?”
Soap only laughs, not even a glisten of sweat on him. “You’ll get there pup. Soon enough you’ll be able to take the big dogs down.”
Big dogs?? You think to yourself. There’s guys bigger than Soap here?
Meeting the rest of the team embarrassed you more than you care to admit. This team was graced with two alphas. When you got near the room they were in, every hair stood up on your body, their scent so strong it lingered down the hallway.
Weeks and months go by without a hitch, except for one, but we don’t talk about that…
You were sent on your first mission and it was the night prior when your whole world fell apart. You had just gotten out of the shower when your knees collapsed and your body felt like it was on fire.
“No, no, no…” You had felt sick the last couple of days but chalked it up to something you ate. You felt your skin becoming warm and damp with sweat as it all hit you.
You were in heat
You panicked, the pain engulfing every inch of you, the need for relief taking over your cognitive thinking.
You crawled over to your phone and texted the only person you could trust, the team Beta, Gaz.
Within minutes he was at your door, jumping inside your room to help you dress and get into bed. He was calm, assuring you it was all going to be alright.
That’s when you let out a horrific scream. You covered your mouth immediately, Gaz backing away. “What was that?”
Your eyes were wide. “I don’t know…”
You both froze in time, praying it didn’t draw either of you any unwanted attention. But, unbeknownst to you both, the other 3 men could smell you miles away.
Gaz stayed with you, trying to cool you off and keep you fed and hydrated, it was hours before another man showed up at your door….Soap.
He looked at you with worry, in his pajama pants and shirt. He didn’t even have shoes on…. “What’s going on? Your scent is intoxicating.” He slowly entered your room, approaching you with caution.
Gaz spoke for you, and when he did, Soap asked him to give you and him some space. Soap crawled in behind you, leaning your head against his chest. “Relax for me okay?” Soap was an Omega, just like you, but somehow his presence felt calming. It didn’t dull the ache you felt, but he brought a sense of peace to your mind.
Suddenly, you feel his hands roam down your body to your lounge pants and remove them down to your ankles, lifting your knees to spread your legs. “Do you trust me?”
You could only nod as the cold air of your room hit your bottom half. Soap’s hand took home inbetween your legs, his fingers entering you and filling the emptiness you’ve felt.
A moan left your lips as he moved, your head falling back to rest on his shoulder. Gaz watched on, waiting to be told how he could help.
As good as Soap’s fingers felt, you still felt the searing pain. It wasn’t doing anything to quell your problems. It caused you to question Soap’s methods.
But little did you know, Soap knew exactly what he was doing because it didn’t take long of his fingers in you until the two alphas appeared at your door. The sight before them causing them to become feral, primal even. “Look at that, they smelled us.” Soap smirked.
Looking at Price and Ghost, you couldn’t help but feel a bit exposed, but their presence brought a newfound relief to you.
Price moved first, coming to hover above you against Soap’s chest, his hand brushing your hair down as he spoke softly: “We’re gonna take care of ya.”
Price slowly moved Soap’s hand away, putting his own palm flat against you. His middle finger swiped up, taking in the feeling of you. His eyes closed as he buried himself in the crook of your neck, breathing you in.
Before you knew it, Ghost was now in place of Soap, his hips rutting against your ass, his hands on your chest. You had found yourself sandwiched between the two alphas. You were drinking in every moment.
Price slowly warned you as he moved, slowly letting you adjust to his size, purring in your ear: “That’s it, that’s a good girl.”
Ghost took care of every other area of your body, slowly caressing you in every way. His fingers grazed over your nipples and eventually would travel down to your clit to help you along.
Between both of them, it didn’t take long for you to come undone. Price continued through to his own release, burying himself deep inside you. The feeling was unlike anything.
The sounds you let out as the fiery pain left your body we’re heaven to the men’s ears. Price quickly moved to help clean you up as Ghost covered you with the hoodie he had been wearing. Ghost had marked your sheets with his scent, leaving you surrounded with it.
As soon as you were clean, the alphas left without another word, Gaz quickly coming to your aid with food and water while Soap sat with you, massaging your sides. They kept you company until you had fallen asleep, and they returned to their own rooms.
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puffpasstea · 2 years
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Could you please do a blurb where Matilda’s maybe not looking after herself when he’s away on tour and he finds out? I LOVE all your writing so much!!!
Hiii, babes 🥰
Sure thing! Thanks so much for reading!
——
The sudden vibrations of my phone startled me. I slapped the surface, feeling around the coffee table until I caught it. Reading the caller ID, I smiled for the first time in four days.
“Hey, do I have any underwear left at your place?” Harry’s voice on the other end of the line made calm wash over me.
“W-what?”
“I’m just about to leave the airport. Was thinking I’d get dropped off at your place instead of mine but, we’ll, I need a shower and…”
“Oh. You’re back?”
“Haven’t you seen any of the texts I sent you?”
I’d completely forgotten that Harry was coming back into town today. While I, did, no doubt, miss him a lot, I wasn’t feeling like myself and didn’t want him to see me like this. Should I just ask him not to come? I hated this feeling. The desire to be around people wrestling with the feeling that you’d be better off alone.
“Uh- I guess not. Anyway, yeah. There’s a drawer of your stuff here.”
Harry clearly sensed my apprehension. “You alright, Matilda?”
An automatic smile stretched my lips at the hearing of nickname.
“Yeah, all good. See you soon?”
“In about 25 minutes or so.”
Twenty five minutes were just enough for me to try and get myself to look as normal as possible. I knew Harry would likely be tired and jet lagged. The fact that he’d chosen to come over instead of heading straight home meant the world to me. Even if I wasn’t able to feel it right now. I’m sure that once my emotions came back, I’d be grateful for his visit.
It didn’t take much to tidy up my place, but that’s mainly because there wasn’t much to tidy up;) I hadn’t really cooked, or done anything at all for the past few days. Too paralyzed with depression and anxiety since Harry left. I gathered the empty cups and takeout containers from my week of ordering out and took the trash out, straightening any stray pillows and picking up misplaced items on my way back into the living room.
I headed into my bedroom to change out of my pajamas and into something a little more put together. I was caught off-guard by the reflection of myself in the mirror. Looking into my own eyes, I knew I liked miserable. No amount of makeup could hide the fact that I’m seriously struggling to feel anything at all right now.
I hated this. I have a good life. Really, I do. I know that I have been luckier in life than many people ever will be. And most days, I was able to appreciate that and push through the struggle just fine. But then there were other days. Days like today. Everything felt so overwhelming. I didn’t feel deserving of any of the luck that I’d had. In fact, I felt guilty for having as good a life as I do, thinking that I haven’t done anything to earn these things that I somehow came my way. Most of all, I felt guilty for even feeling guilty. For making Harry HAVE to comfort me, help me, and be considerate of my fragile and often-changing emotional states. I hated that my mental illness made me a less reliable person. I wished I could be more present for him. Or supportive. Or be as much of a positive influence on his life as he is on mine. I didn’t want to ruin his night by making him have to deal with me after the long flight that he’d had. I needed him to see me as someone other than a broken person crippled with her own mental pain.
I put on the first jeans and shirt I could find and practiced my smile in the mirror s few times. I was going to do my best to shield him from the weight of my emotions. It’s not HIS problem that I’m mentally unhealthy.
I boiled some water and rummaged around my cabinets for that herbal tea he likes to drink at night, pairing it with some fruit that I’d bought on a good day when I’d felt optimistic about changing my eating habits. Moments later, I heard him knock on the door.
“MATILDAA!!!” He beamed in mock-screaming, setting his luggage down and offering me a massive hug before he’d even made it through the door.
My face was too squished into his hoodie for him to see it. The scent of his aftershave flooded my mind, making me smile into the fabric of his clothes and inhale deeper, hoping to absorb every last remaining trace of that smell.
“How was your flight?” I asked with my back to him once we were in the kitchen.
“It was alright. As okay as a long flight could be. You know.” He shrugged, picking up and apple and biting into it.
“You hungry? I could whip something up, or we could order in.” I was going through the mental list I’d made of things to bring up to appear normal.
“Nah. I really just came here for the here for the sex.” He spoke with an even tone between mouthfuls of apple. Thank god I was still facing away from him because I could feel the blushing spread all over my face.
“I’m kidding, relax.” He giggled when my silence went on for a moment. “I just wanted to see you.” His voice sounded deeper, more serous now.
He tossed the remaining core of the apple into the trash and approached me, standing directly behind me and placing his hands over my shoulders. “I missed you. Is it okay if I say that?” A drop of uncertainty laced his voice.
“I- uh. Yeah.” I didn’t want to face him. I felt badly about not being able to reciprocate his emotional openness right now and I knew that if I looked into his eyes, he’d be able to tell. He spun me around and put a finger underneath my chin, urging me to raise my eyes to his.
“Hey, what’s the matter?”
He’d already picked up on my stiffness.
“Nothing, what do you mean?” I wiggled out of his arms and walked away.
“It’s not nothin.’ C’mon tell me.”
“I’ll go get your clothes so you can shower…”
I’d started to walk away but Harry grabbed my arm gently, but firmly, and stopped me.
“You can tell me anything.” He stated.
I relented, letting him pull me closer.
“There’s nothing to tell, Harry. It’s just-it’s nothing. Never mind.”
“It’s just what?” He was insistent, his grip on my arm staying tight.
“It’s nothing new. You know how it is with me. Just don’t feel great, mentally. But when has that not been the case, you know….”
“Oh, honey. I’m sorry.” He hugged me tight enough against his chest that I could hear his heartbeat. Even though I was snug against his body, I still felt exposed and vulnerable.
“It’s no big deal. It’s always like this with me.” I attempted to deflect, uncomfortable with the intensity of the moment.
“Just cuz it happens a lot, doesn’t make it any less difficult.”
We stood there for a moment, Harry’s arms wrapped around me, before he pulled away and led me to the living room.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” He sat down on the couch next to me.
“N-not really. I- I don’t mean to be difficult it’s just there’s nothing to say. There’s no reason i feel this way. I just DO.”
“That’s okay. Have you at least been doing your checklist stuff? Exercise and food and all that?”
Harry had developed a directness and an ease around these conversations that instantly made me feel less alone. By not dancing around the subject, he made me feel less self-conscious about the sensitivity of the issue. I wasn’t even sure he was aware of how much of a difference it made, or if it was intentional, but I was certainly grateful.
I simply shook my head.
“Oh, babe. You know we can’t have that. Why didn’t you tell me? I asked you everyday!”
“Cuz I know you! I know you’d try to fix it. Even from thousands of miles away. “
He rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed with my reasoning.
“Well I’m here now, so I AM gonna fix it. And you will not try and stop me. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
A mischievous smile lit up his face.
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retrievablememories · 3 years
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love thy neighbor | kun (m)
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title: love thy neighbor pairing: kun x black reader genre: fluff, smut, neighbors to lovers request: “Hello again Rain! I hope you're doing well and I'm happy to see you're open for requests again. Your writing in general is a treat to look forward to. An idea for a fic I'd like to suggest is wayv kun/black oc where they're neighbors that secretly pine for another and do feel free get very nsfw lmao. TY!” word count: 5.7k warnings: alcohol use, protected sex, dirty talk, dry humping, riding a/n: i used a prompt from this list of ideas to help me create this fic.
i’m sorry, this fic could’ve theoretically been finished long ago but took me 3893 years because kun intimidates me (and i don’t know why) and that makes it hard to write for him l m f a o chile anyway...
--
Your neighbor might actually kill you one day—but only in the figurative sense.
Kun is too beautiful and kind for your sanity; he’s like one of those men out of a romantic novel who simply should not exist. In other words, the ideal guy. One who helps all the little old ladies in the building take their groceries up to their apartments, one who feeds all the stray cats that hang around the complex, one who helps new tenants move their things in without even being asked.
Your roommate Charlotte would probably be totally smitten over him just like you if she did not already have her own happy relationship with her girlfriend. But since she does, she has decided to spend her time instead teasing you about your crush on him and trying to persuade you into getting tangled up in a matchmaking mess.
“I’m sure he already has a girlfriend, I don’t know, trying to shoot my shot seems ridiculous,” you say to her, worrying the edge of your blanket in your hands. You toss and turn on the couch, flipping onto your stomach and sighing before shuffling onto your back again. “People like that can never stay single for long. Right? They get snapped up quick.”
“You’d know if you simply asked,” Charlotte points out. “Staring holes into his head won’t help you find out more about him.”
“I guess you’re right,” you say, your fingers stumbling over the blanket as it momentarily slips from your hands. Still, the idea of asking him if he’s dating anyone, whether discreetly or more openly, makes you nervous. You’ve talked to Kun several times before, even hung out with him at those friendly get-togethers your apartment building always holds to get the residents mingling, but you’re still anxious around him. It makes you feel silly, like you’re back in high school; but you aren’t quite sure what to do with those emotions or how to form them into something coherent. “Easy to say all that when you already have the person you want, though.”
“Oh, girl. Love is not easy, but that’s why you have to fucking work for it. AKA, go for what—or who—the hell you want and stop pining over him like some lost Juliet on our couch. It’s better than watching you flop around like a dying fish.”
You stand up from the couch abruptly, leaving your blanket to the side and glaring at her. “You don’t get it, ugh.”
“I get it! But you refuse to let me help—”
“Yes, because if I did, you’d say something completely ridiculous and tell him I’m madly in love with him or something.” You head to the bathroom to check yourself in the mirror.
Charlotte throws her hands up in surrender. “Hey, maybe. But that wouldn’t be a lie.”
“Really? I don’t think—”
“I think so. The way you talk about this guy, it’s definitely sounding a little like love to me.”
Once you’re satisfied, you come back in the main room and grab your keys, wanting to end this conversation before Charlotte sets a world record for how many times she can make you feel embarrassed. “Whatever you say. I’m gonna go to the corner store, so...speak now if you need something or forever hold your peace.”
“You can’t run from it,” Charlotte sing-songs, going back to reading her magazine. “And no, I don’t need anything.”
Once you get out your front door, it’s just your luck when you see Kun’s door is also open. You are not dressed for running into him, of all people; your “corner store” clothes being just a T-shirt, leggings, and slides. You freeze in place and momentarily think about unlocking your door and bolting back inside, which you realize is utterly ridiculous. By then, it’s too late; he’s already coming out his door and closing it behind him. 
He perks up when he sees you outside, smiling at you with those deep dimples that make your insides melt. “Hey Y/N, good to see you.”
“Kun! Uh—great to see you too.”
“Are you going out somewhere?” he asks. Inwardly, he feels a bit silly for asking because you clearly are, keys in hand and everything.
“Yeah, just to the store to get a few things.” You wave your hand, and you almost have the urge to lean on your doorframe to appear more calm and collected than you are. Which could potentially end up looking sillier than you intended. “How about you?”
“Going to see a friend,” he answers, and he brushes his hand through his hair in a way that’s completely casual but somehow modelesque at the same time. This is unbelievable, you think to yourself. “We haven’t met up in a while, so…”
“Oh yeah, it’s always nice to go out with old friends,” you say, smiling at the thought of it. Kun nods his agreement, and then has an abrupt, wild idea to ask if you’d like to go out somewhere sometime. Too busy warring with himself over whether he should take the dive, he doesn’t notice you heading towards the stairs already. “I hope you two have a good time!”
“Oh—thanks. Hope you enjoy your trip.” He chuckles, following you down the steps to get to his car. Well, that moment has passed. Sure, he could probably still ask you now if he was bold enough about it, but it feels too awkward to randomly ask someone out in the middle of a stairwell.
You wave bye to him once you both get in the parking lot. He watches you walk to your car with a wistful smile on his face. He wants to say more to you, but the timing isn’t right and it’s best not to hold you up right now. Plus, Hendery’s probably already waiting for him.
It would’ve provided you with a lot of relief if you knew Kun was facing a similar dilemma to you. He’d never had much problem talking to women he liked in the past, but something about you made him feel clumsy and hesitant. But just like with your inability to move forward, there’s no way for you to know his feelings without him saying anything about it—which he has been hesitating over for the longest. 
Maybe he was also still cowering from the embarrassment of the time he’d tried to show you a magic trick that didn’t quite work out, but it was a convenient excuse. At least for him, anyway.
One day he’d get the courage to tell you how he felt, but he didn’t think today was that day.
Some strong shots and a few hours at the club was exactly what you needed to unravel your nerves after a long week. You and a few others from your work had decided to go out that Saturday night as a group effort to unwind from dealing with your overbearing boss. “Just a couple shots” eventually turned into more than that, though, but you weren’t complaining. As long as it gave you the opportunity to discard all your issues for a while, you didn’t mind losing yourself a little.
However, your night of fun quickly dissolves into frustration when you realize you’ve lost your keys and have no way to get back into your apartment. You’re not even sure where they might’ve disappeared—in the club, or in the rideshare back to your apartment?
Charlotte is out of the city for the week visiting her long-distance girlfriend, so there’s no way you’re getting back in your apartment tonight. The main office won’t be open at this hour, either; it’s the weekend, and nobody will be there regardless until Monday. And you’re definitely not drunk enough or desperate enough to try to bust the door down.
Though it pains you to do so, you knock on Kun’s door, your head throbbing and dizzy. You feel bad about this. He won’t even be awake at this hour and might not answer, but you don’t know what other options you have. You aren’t familiar enough with your other neighbors to ask this of them. Especially not the old lady living on the other side of you who has a perpetually judgmental aura towards everyone in the apartment building. The only person she seems marginally approving of is none other than the man himself—Qian Kun.
It takes a good minute or two, but you hear the latch unlock, and Kun is suddenly standing in front of you, a look of concern on his sleepy face. He is adorable like this, in his pajamas and his hair mussed and his eyes foggy with sleep. He’s so cute it makes you want to cry—and so you do. 
But your tears are mostly because you’re very tipsy and tired and currently locked out of your very comfortable apartment.
This awakens Kun immediately. “Y/N? What’s wrong?” He gently pulls you into his apartment, his tone quiet but panicked as you put your face in your hands and cry. You just shake your head for a few moments, crying too much to say anything to him. When you don’t reply, he doesn't try to press you for answers; he just puts his arms around you, a bit carefully as if you’re made of some easily breakable material, and lets you wet his T-shirt with your tears.
Finally, when you’ve collected yourself some, you abruptly feel foolish for crying over something like this. He probably thinks someone’s died, and you’ve gotten him all worked up for practically nothing. “I-I’m locked out,” you sigh heavily, and he has enough politeness not to outwardly react to your alcohol breath with your close proximity. “And my roommate is gone…forever.”
His eyebrows lift. “Forever?”
“The whole week, Kun...but it feels like...f-forever.”
“Ah...I see. Is that why you were crying?”
You put your head back in your hands. “Just kill me.”
“Don’t feel bad about it,” Kun says, and there is a tiny lift to his mouth like he wants to smile at your dramatics. “It’s fine. You can stay here tonight.”
“Kun, thank you.” You’re still loosely embracing each other, and you squeeze your arms more tightly around him. Maybe it’s just a reason to rest your head on his chest again and hear his heart beating strong against your cheek, but you wouldn’t admit that. Wait, why is his heart beating so fast? “Thank youuu, I love you so much, this means the world to me.”
Kun’s mind catches on the words I love you so much, and he knows you’re just drunk and need to sleep it off and aren’t really thinking about what you’re saying, but he cannot help lingering there for a moment. He’s glad the front room is still dim from the single lamp he turned on, otherwise you might notice the flush growing on his cheeks. “I...it’s no problem. We should get you comfortable, then.”
As it turns out, get you comfortable means he lets you sleep in his bed while he takes the couch. In another context you’d protest, not wanting to kick him out of his own space, but you are simply too smashed to think about it. You’re seconds away from falling asleep where you stand now that the adrenaline of discovering you’re locked out has worn off. Kun has the idea to make you drink some ice cold water, though, which wakes you up enough to take a proper shower.
By the time you get out of the shower and are wearing his clothes—his clothes—you are feeling a little more sober. You also feel like you’re going to have another small meltdown over all this. “This” being: wearing Kun’s clothes and standing in his bedroom, which is decorated with all his interests and treasured belongings. There’s a small studio setup in one corner, which interests you, but you don’t investigate it any further.
Now you have another little problem, though; what are you gonna do about the pillows? You don’t have anything to cover your hair with, with all your scarves and bonnets in your own apartment. One night of sleeping on a cotton pillow wouldn’t kill you, but that doesn’t make it any less distasteful to think about.
Kun comes into the bedroom to check on you and sees you puzzling around, sitting on the bed and looking awkward. “What’s the matter?”
“Oh. It’s nothing really,” you rush out, unsure if you should tell him about a problem he likely won’t even understand. It must be at least 4:00 a.m. by now, meaning you both desperately need to get some sleep.
“You can tell me, I won’t bite.”
I wouldn’t mind if you did pops into your head, but you immediately try to ignore that thought and are silently grateful that you do not blush visibly.
“Uh, my hair.”
“Your hair?”
“Okay, I need to cover it at night so it won’t get all broken off or anything—sleeping on cotton does wonders for destroying moisture—but I don’t have anything here to use. I mean—it’s...not a huge deal though, I can deal with it for a night?” You’re rambling now. Kun just nods, taking in all this information like he’s listening to something very important and very interesting.
“So then, what would you do to stop that?”
“Wear a scarf, or a bonnet, or using a silk pillowcase works, too. But you probably don’t have any of that stuff, you don’t have to bother with it—”
“Well, let me see.” Kun disappears into his closet and you pause, wondering for a moment if he actually does have a bonnet or something in there. Which would probably be a little hilarious to you.
He comes back out with not a bonnet of a scarf or even a pillowcase, but one of his own shirts. It’s just the right material though, being a pretty purple silk.
“Oh—Kun.” At this point, there are several emotions all trying to come to the forefront, though you have no clue which one to settle on. “Your shirt? You really don’t have to. I could…”
“It’s just a shirt, Y/N. There are a lot more where that comes from...I don’t mind.” He chuckles.
You sigh bashfully but take the shirt from him. “Thank you, it’s really thoughtful of you.” You cover the pillow with his shirt, and it works perfectly.
“Anyway, if you need anything else, just tell me,” he says, lingering by the door.
“I will...thank you,” you say, your voice quiet as you give him a nervous smile. Only when he shuts the door and his footsteps fade away do you allow yourself to bunch the comforter in your fists and scream into it. Everything in here smells just like him, which is probably more than enough to fuel all of your Qian Kun-related daydreams for the next 8 months.
It doesn’t take long for you to drift off when you finally do lie down, and your mind is blissfully empty of anything throughout the night.
--
The next day takes a bit of settling into. You’re momentarily alarmed when you wake up faced with a strange room until you remember last night’s events and recall where you are. There is also the smell of food, good food, which is also sadly unfamiliar to you. Charlotte can’t cook to save either of your lives, so you know you’d never be waking up to the smell of a professional chef-approved breakfast if you were still in your apartment with her.
Walking out of Kun’s room, you see that he’s in the kitchen, halfway finished with cooking breakfast for the both of you. It’s more like brunch at this hour, but what does that matter.
You linger at the doorway for a moment, allowing yourself to imagine that this is what things would be like if you were dating. Getting this view everyday? Life cannot be this unfair.
Maybe not too much, though, since you are standing in his kitchen.
“Oh, good morning,” he greets you, breaking your reverie. “Did you sleep well?”
“Good morning. I slept great. Thanks again for, you know, the shirt, haha…”
He grins, and his dimples come out. “Sure thing. Go ahead and sit! Breakfast will be ready soon.”
It’s the best breakfast you’ve eaten since living with Charlotte; maybe some of the best food you’ve ever had. “I had no idea you could cook this well,” you say. “I mean. I guess I wouldn’t since I haven’t—you know, uh—eaten here before, but—it’s great.” It’s just your luck that your thoughts come out in this fumbling mini-rant, but Kun only laughs good-naturedly.
“Thank you, I’m truly glad you like it.”
You both continue eating breakfast while making light conversation. This just might be the longest conversation you’ve had with each other, and that knowledge seems surreal. You’re almost a little glad you lost your key. Almost.
“So...today is Sunday. And the leasing office still won’t be open until Monday.” Kun says this over the remnants of breakfast. He speaks in a measured tone, like he’s trying to ensure he says the right thing. Whatever that could possibly be. “And you told me your roommate won’t be back until Monday.”
To your credit, you hadn’t exactly accounted for this when you first came over to his place in your distressed state. That means another night spent in his apartment though, which becomes very obvious to you now. “Ah. Sorry, am I imposing?”
“What—no, I-I just wanted to make sure you knew you can stay here tonight, or—however long you need.”
Relief floods through you, and you briefly wonder why you even worried about it; as far as you know, he’s not the kind of person to just kick someone out. “Ohh, of course—that’s good to know. Thank you for all this!”
“You’re welcome.” You miss the smile he gives to your response as you’re busy drinking your juice, but it’s one filled with a certain affection.
--
It feels a bit awkward to just sit around in his apartment all day, with nothing to do and all your belongings still locked out of your reach in your own place, so Kun shows you the studio in the corner of his room. He’d talked about being into music before, but you’d never heard anything of his until now.
When he plays the keyboard for you, it’s to the tune of a beautiful self-composed song. You almost pinch yourself to remind yourself this isn’t a hallucination or a fever dream. A man this appealing really exists, and you’ve stayed the night in his apartment and eaten his breakfast. You give a small round of applause when he finishes.
“Wouldn’t it be cool if you became a famous singer or something? I’d come to all your concerts,” you say lightly, kicking your legs on the edge of his bed.
“All? Really, all?” He laughs.
“Yes, all. A voice and talent like that deserves all the attention.” You lean back on his bed, stretching your legs out. “But all your venues would probably be sold out. Hopefully you’d remember me from your lil’ ole apartment building. I’m sure you’d be living in a penthouse by then.”
Kun smiles bashfully at your compliments, waving his hands as if it’s too much. “Thank you. But I don’t think I could ever forget you.” His voice grows a bit softer. His expression is more genuine than you expect for a conversation that was so playful only seconds ago, and you find it hard to hold eye contact all of a sudden.
It is your turn to be bashful, and you shrug in an effort to seem natural. “Well, I’m flattered.” Despite your unaffected demeanor, you don’t think those words will leave your mind for a good while, even if you wonder about the meaning of them. 
--
Later that evening, Kun makes dinner and you watch TV together, flipping to whatever channels have dramas or movies playing.
You two eventually fall into another conversation when you can’t find anything good to watch—one that does not make you overly nervous for once. During a lull in the talking, that big question pops up into your mind, and you wince internally at how Charlotte would’ve already told you to make a move. You aren't sure how to do that without making him uncomfortable or seeming too sudden, but you decide to make an attempt.
You edge into it with, “So, um, your place looks pretty nice for one guy. It’s just you here, right?”
“Ah yeah, just me. Thanks, I do try my best.”
“Haha, I’m used to my guy friends all having super messy apartments until they get a girlfriend and she teaches them how to clean a stove for the first time…”
“Oh really? That’s a bit sad for them, isn’t it?” He chuckles. “I’m not dating anyone right now, so it’s all me.”
Just the information you were looking for. You try not to show your elation. “Why not?” you blurt out. Then you cringe because this might sound too invasive or even judgmental, but Kun only grins. “It’s just, it’s a little surprising. You’re such a generous person. You seem to care about everyone, even those poor stray kitties that stay outside the apartments all the time.”
He smiles timidly in response to receiving more of your compliments. “I guess it seems curious when you put it like that.” Just like when you’d drunkenly said I love you so much, there’s suddenly heat on the back of his neck that he hopes won’t turn into another blush that’ll expose him. “I don’t really know, I haven’t thought much about it; life’s weird like that.” He isn’t really sure how to answer that question in a way that won’t be too big of a hint that he’s interested in you, though he’s also not entirely sure why he’s still trying to hide it. Wouldn’t now be the perfect opportunity? When will you two have this much time together again? Still, you staying in his apartment for two days doesn’t mean you like him, and maybe he’s jumping the gun.
“That’s true. Guess that’s the same reason why I’ve been alone for a while now.” You shake your head.
“You?” Kun is equally surprised to know this about you.
You laugh incredulously. “Does that shock you or something?”
“I...well.” He rubs the back of his neck as he searches for the words. “I just thought...you’re very pretty, and you’re always really kind when we speak, so...”
“Oh?” Your face heats up at that.
“Yeah, I…think anyone would be lucky to be with you.”
“Oh.” Your body’s first instinct is to freeze with nervousness, but you know Charlotte would be kicking your ass in gear right now if she were somehow here. So, you decide to stop stressing about it and just do it. “Well...wouldn’t it be nice if we both had a way to fix our problems at the same time?”
Kun pauses for a moment before replying. “What do you suggest?” He knows what you are proposing—you can see in his eyes and his slight grin and his posture that he knows—but maybe he wants to hear you say it out loud.
“Hm, well…I don’t know, what do you think?” You lean a bit closer to him, raising your eyebrows and trying your best to look innocent and unassuming. His smile turns into something different with your increased proximity. Something a little more sly.
Mirroring your actions, he inches nearer to you until there’s little space left between. “Well, I think…” Kun tentatively closes the remaining gap between the two of you, the rest of his sentence left to linger as his soft lips envelop yours.
Maybe it’s corny to say it, but it definitely feels like one of those fairytale kisses with the fireworks going off and streamers popping; even though you’re sitting on his couch wearing his pajamas, some movie in the background you’ve long forgotten the plot of, empty dinner plates sitting on the coffee table in front of you.
You aren’t sure how you end up in his lap—who made the first move? Was it his hand on your back or your hands on his shoulders? You straddle him on the couch, your arms slipping around his shoulders and his hands on your back but assuredly traveling farther down your body.
Kun’s hands come to rest on your thighs, pulling the fabric of his shorts up a few inches higher. “I never thought I’d see you wearing my clothes,” he says lowly, grinning against your mouth.
“I also never thought I’d be sitting in your lap like this, but maybe sometimes dreams do come true,” you say jokingly, your lips rubbing against his skin as you slowly kiss his jaw.
You can’t see his expression, but his eyebrows shoot up at that. “Dreams, huh? You think about me often?” His voice pitches lower when he asks this, aroused by the thought of you imagining anything quite so lewd about him. You’ve definitely incriminated yourself now and won’t be able to wiggle out of it without an answer.
“...Maybe.”
“What do you think about me?” Kun grips your hips, which quickly turns into him grabbing your ass—tentatively at first to test the waters, and then firmly enough to grind you against his hardening cock. Sensing him solid and warm underneath you sends a shockwave down your spine, and the sensation heightens when his voice caresses your ear, all low and tense with arousal. “It’s just the two of us here. No one else has to know.”
“I think about your...lips. How you might kiss me. Or what you might say to me. And...your hands.” You pause there, a quiet breath whispering past your lips. “You have really big hands, you know.”
“My hands…” Kun places one on your chest, spreading his fingers across and touching your collarbone. The heel of his palm glides on the top of your breast, and just that touch is enough to get you more worked up. “Hmm. Actually, I’ll admit I’m pretty good with my hands.” He smirks, and he’s possibly the finest thing you’ve ever seen. “What else, Y/N?”
“I thought about how you’d touch me.” His hand slides between your breasts now, down your sternum, and to your stomach. “Maybe I’d invite you into my apartment when Charlotte wasn’t there. We’d watch some stupid movie and pretend to be into it, but we’re really just thinking about each other. You’d eventually end up slipping your hand up my skirt...and making me cum all over your fingers.”
You aren’t sure how you’re saying all this to Kun right now, the dude you have a major crush on, without bursting into flames.
His shaft rubbing against your clit even through your layers of clothes makes you sigh dreamily, pressing your forehead to his and gripping at his shoulders and biceps. His bangs are soft against your forehead, and your breath stutters when he moves to kiss the side of your neck. He has to know how hard your heart is beating right now.
“And then what?” His voice is barely a whisper, then.
“And then you’d fuck me, of course.” There’s a slight laugh in your voice at the ticklish feeling of his lips kissing your skin.
“And then I’d fuck you...hm,” he echoes. “Sure, I can do that.”
The promise of it entices you, and more heat pools between your legs, amplified by the fabric rubbing against your sensitive parts. His hand that’s still on your stomach travels under your shirt then, and your hips falter in your rhythm against him when his fingers brush across your nipple. He brings his lips to your other breast, lapping his tongue against your nipple over the fabric.
You soon come like this, his shaft grinding against your clit and his clothes rubbing against your skin, his hands on your ass and his lips traveling across your breasts. The orgasm is sudden and surprises you, but it’s good, and you convulse as the waves of pleasure course through you. You weaken and slump against him, with him still teasing your breasts with his mouth and hands. Pushing your face into his hair, you moan into the black strands until the quivering stops.
You’re breathless when you speak again. “You haven’t come yet.”
“I’d rather do that when I’m inside you,” he replies. You giggle quietly.
“...What are you waiting for, then?”
“Hold on.” Kun carefully maneuvers you off his lap, and you already want to complain at the lack of his touch. “I have to get a condom.”
“Hurry, or you’ll miss all the fun,” you say as you pull your shirt off with your back to him. You look back over your shoulder at him and grin mischievously.
“You’re such a tease…”
Kun goes into his room to fetch a condom, and when he returns he’s already pulling his shirt off, leaving it on the floor somewhere. You’re fully naked now, your legs pulled up to your chest and your chin resting on your knees as you sit on the couch. Kun’s eyes drop between your legs, your inner thighs still glistening from your previous orgasm, and he swipes his tongue across his lips at the sight of you, wet and ready for him.
Likewise, your eyes drop to the dark trail of hair leading into his pants and his bulge just below it, the way his sweatpants cling to his length, and your pussy throbs with the desire to be filled.
“Please, hurry.”
Kun doesn’t waste any time in getting the rest of his clothes off, shoving his pants and underwear done in one swift move and rolling the condom over his shaft. He climbs onto the couch, grabbing your legs and guiding them around his waist, and you giggle at his eager but gentle touch as you recline on the couch pillows behind you.
He grabs his dick and lines it up with you, then pushes it in slowly at first. The stretch makes your toes curl, but it is a good kind of stretch, the kind that fills you to the brim. Like the missing element you needed.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice husky from the pleasure.
“Fuck, please,” is your answer as you shift your hips and try to get him all the way inside quicker. Noticing your urgency, he slides the rest of the way in until your hips are flush against each other and starts thrusting into you. His length dragging across your walls feels much better than you could’ve imagined on any given night, and you clasp your legs tighter around him to get ever closer.
After a point, he pushes your legs up with his hands behind your knees so he can get a deeper angle, and you both moan at the difference in sensation and how much tighter you get around him.
There is no ignoring the messy wet noises of your bodies colliding due to the slickness of your previous orgasm and the new wetness he’s continually fucking out of you. Each thrust reaches deep inside you, deep enough to make you nearly sob, your hands fumbling over your breasts and your clit all the while.
“Kun, god yes please,” you whimper, rocking your hips into the rhythm of his own. You fucking him back makes him groan deeply, his bangs hanging off his forehead as he dips his head to watch himself slide in and out of you. You could not control the urge or the motion of your body even if you wanted to; you want all of him, as close as he can get.
“I don’t want this to end,” he moans, and he pulls out without a warning. You gasp at the sudden emptiness, and your discontent comes out in a full whine. You’d be more embarrassed about it if you weren’t currently consumed with desire, but you presently do not care.
Kun sits back on the couch and pulls you on top of him again. “Ride me,” he says. So you grasp the base of his cock, him grunting as you do, and you press the tip against your entrance before pushing it in. He watches himself slip inside of you while fully enraptured, one hand tight on your hip.
Once you are full with him again, you experimentally grind against him to see how it’ll feel in this new position, and your arms tremble as his pelvis stimulates your clit.
“Go ahead,” he whispers, grasping the nape of your neck and kissing you hard once more, “fuck yourself on me.”
So you keep grinding your clit on him like that, your limbs shaking from the stimulation and your walls fluttering around his cock. You can barely catch a complete breath from him kissing you hard enough to make your lips swell, and your head is so fogged with lust that all you can concentrate on is getting yourself off just like he told you to do.
“Kun…” You roll your head onto his shoulder, pressing your forehead into his skin, your body tiring as you get closer to reaching that high. You’re so close to coming, but you’re not sure if you have enough strength left to get there on your own. Kun notices the state you’re in and grasps your hips to pull them into his, effortlessly sliding himself into you while making sure your clit gets stimulated at the same time.
The new friction of his dick rubbing against your g-spot in this position is enough to have you finally coming and crying out against his neck.
You continue babbling nonsense against his neck as he keeps fucking you, searching for his own end. His hands are hot on your body as he moves you up and down his length.
His climax comes soon after yours, his dick pulsing and his pace slowing. Your back arches at the sensation of him throbbing inside you and releasing his cum into the condom. The way he groans in your ear has your stomach clenching.
For a few minutes after, you both sit quietly and do nothing but cling to one another as you come down from the pleasure.
“So, does this mean we’re together now…?” Kun asks hopefully, running his hands over your back as you lie against him.
You smile against his skin. “Obviously. But if you still want to convince me, we can go a couple more rounds…”
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havin-a-wee · 3 years
Note
could u ever do a smutty one where h and y/n had a fling in the best or are just each others occasional hook ups but when h has a date y/n gets like really upset and he finds out so he makes it up to her and confesses his feelings saying stuff like „y're my best girl, y'know that petal?“🥺👉🏻👈🏻 love ur writing beyond words, have an amazing day :))))
Date Night
warnings: unprotected sex
word count: 1.6k
to whoever sent in this ask im so so so sorry it literally took me like two months to answer it i feel so bad but i like how it turned out so i hope this makes up for it!
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You shouldn’t be crying. You really shouldn’t. Yet tears are spilling down your face as you break down in choppy sobs, your chest heaving and your cheeks hot.
You have no right to be jealous, and you know that. You and Harry are only friends with benefits, and nothing else. He is allowed to be on a date right now, and it’s not his fault that you’ve managed to fall in love with him throughout the course of your relationship. You met through a mutual friend, began hanging out and then later started hooking up. And while he sees you as his best friend who he just happens to fuck sometimes, you see him as so much more. And you wish that maybe it could be different between you. That maybe he does reciprocate your feelings and if you just told him how you feel he’d tell you he feels the same way.
But as far as you know, there is no chance of that happening. Especially considering the fact that he’s currently at a restaurant with some hot blonde girl he met last week.
Your thoughts are put to a halt when your phone rings, and you pick it up to see none other than Harry himself calling. And as much as you want to decline the call, Harry would never decline yours no matter what, so with a hefty sigh you bring the phone to your ear.
“Hi”
“Hey petal, the date was a bust, all she wanted t’talk about was m’money.” Harry laughs weakly over the phone, and you smile at the news that it didn’t work out. You shouldn’t be happy about it, and it does make you feel guilty because Harry deserves happiness. You just wish he could find that happiness with you.
Lost in your own train of thought, you forget that you’re supposed to be suppressing your tears. Another salty droplet rolls down your cheek and your sniffle.
Suddenly, Harry begins talking again, and that’s when you realize your mistake. “Petal? Y’okay? Sounds like y’crying.” His voice immediately switches from joking to sympathetic and worried, and you can imagine how he looks right now, creased forehead and wide eyes.
“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” You wipe the tear off your cheek with the sleeve of your hoodie, clearing your throat to try and hide the sound of your throat that's sore from crying.
“No y’not y/n, I know what y’crying sounds like. M’already going in the direction of y’house so m’coming over and staying till’ y’tell me what's wrong.”
The tone of his voice tells you there’s no changing his mind, so you sigh and murmur an “okay” before hanging up the phone.
It took about five minutes for Harry to knock on the door. During that time, you went into your bathroom and attempted to hide the red, puffy skin that had overtaken your cheeks. It didn’t really work, and you were still trying to hide it when you heard him knock. So with a disappointed sigh, you slump over to the door and open it.
Harry steps in quickly, placing his coat on a hanger and then turning back to you.
“What’s wrong pet, hmm?” He places his ringed hand on your cheek, thumb running over the skin that's been reddened from your tears.
And despite the years you’ve spent hiding your feelings, despite the hours you’ve had to listen to Harry retell stories about his hookups, despite the yearning you’ve felt for your best friend since you met him, this was your breaking point. Tear after tear after tear. They flow uncontrollably down your face and all you can manage to do is look up at Harry. He pulls you into him, placing one hand behind your head and one around your waist.
And you just cry into Harry’s shoulder.
You don’t know how long you’ve been standing there, but Harry eventually brings you couch, and as soon as he sits you both down you curl up into his warm chest.
“Y’gonna tell me what’s wrong? Y’don’t ‘ave to, just hate seeing yeh cry.”
Finally, you pick up your head from where it’s tucked into his torso.
It might be the daze you’re in from the emotions swirling through your head. It might be the glass of wine you downed earlier to help drown out the feeling of jealousy. It might be all the pent up frustration from years of pining for someone you could never have. Or it might have been none of those things. Whatever it was, there was something inside of you that snapped. Like a damn collapsing and letting the water topple over and flood everything. The barrier you spent so long building broke in two, allowing all of those emotions to spill out.
“I love you Harry.” His eyes snapped open, and his mouth moved to speak, but you cut him off. “And not just as a friend. I’ve always loved you, and I know that if you don’t feel the same way, things will be awkward, but I don’t care anymore. Seeing you excited to go out with another girl hurt, because all I’ve wanted for so long was for that girl to be me.”
He stares at you. There was a second where you debated getting up and running out of the house, afraid of what his response would be. But just before you could put that plan into action, his lips collided with yours.
Your mouth meld perfectly, soft lips biting and nipping at each other. His tongue slips past your parted lips and twirls around your own. You’re breathless by the time he disconnects, the feeling that you had been longing for sent your mind spinning.
“Y’don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear that,” he pants, green irises staring deeply into yours. Without another word, you lean in and kiss him again, this time with more vigor than before. Much to your dismay, he separates the two of you again, however he keeps his arms tangled around your body and holds you close.
“Y're my best girl, y'know that petal? None of those silly girls could ever replace you.”
As your lips touch for the third time, it’s clear that both of you have been waiting for this moment for a long time. You savor the feeling, taking short moments to pause and soak in the feeling of his lips on yours.
Slowly, his hand creeps down the small of your back, but you can tell he’s hesitant to move it down further. But you want this, so you remove the hand that’s stroking his hair and place it on his, moving his hand down to your ass manually. He pulls his lips away, looking into your eyes for a sign of confirmation. You realize what he’s looking for, so you nod vigorously in response.
Quickly, he lifts himself off the couch, placing you on your back and positioning himself on top of you.
“H- please, I want you to make love to me,” you whine. His expression fills with hunger and he reaches to unbutton his jeans, shimmying them off quickly and tossing them to the ground. You can see the bulge pressed up against his boxers, and you reach out to palm him through the thin material.
“Fuck petal, y’gonna be the death o’me, y’know that?”
Harry dives into kiss you, using one of his hands to pull down your soft pajama shorts along with your panties. “Harry-”
“I gotchu petal, I gotchu, don’t worry.”
You assist him in pulling off his boxers, his large erection springing out. He’s huge, but you can’t say you didn’t expect it. The precome on his tip is calling for you to lick it, but you just want him to be inside of you, so you make a mental note to do that sometime soon. He grips the base of his cock, lining it up with your entrance. “M’gonna go slow alright?”
You hum your approval, and he responds by pushing the head inside your tight, soaking hole. Even with just an inch inside, you know it’s going to be a stretch, so you take a deep breath and hold onto his shoulders.
Inch by inch, he pushes himself inside of you. Harry stills for a minute, sensing the discomfort in your demeanor. Luckily, it doesn’t take long for the pain to subside and the pleasure to kick in, and soon enough you are moaning out for him to move.
He takes your instructions swiftly, pulling almost all the way out of you until quickly thrusting himself fully back in. “Fuck!”
Your cries are muffled when he leans down to kiss you, his hips continuing to rock as he pushes his length into you.
The air is hot, filled with moans and the smell of sex. You haven’t ever felt this good in your life, especially when he thrusts in extra deep and hits that special spot inside of you. “Harry- god,”
“Sweet girl, am I makin’ yeh feel good?”
“Mhm..”
“Tell me petal, who makes y’feel like this?”
“Harry! Only Harry,”
“Good girl.”
He slams into you, speeding up his thrusts and colliding his hips with yours. Both of you are groaning messes, caught up in the moment and unable to form any coherent sentences. You feel his cock twitch inside of you, and you know you’re close too by the way your stomach and pussy are clenching. He can feel it too, hitting deeper inside of you to bring you to your climax.
“God Y/N, I love you so fuckin much.”
That was all it took for your orgasm to come crashing down, coursing through your body with strength and fervor. The feeling of you squeezing as you came sent Harry over the edge, his milky cum shooting into your pussy and covering the soft walls.
You don’t know if this means you’re dating or not, or where his head is at. All you know is that you love him, and he loves you. And that’s enough for you.
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squishneedsahero · 3 years
Text
The Comfort of A Mother
Awesomest of Them All 2.0
Part 11 of 13
Word Count: 1558
Batman x Batmom!Reader
You know what the bat family needs? Someone to pull them together and give them all the love they deserve. Who better to do that than you? An author rising to stardom in Gotham who catches the eye of a billionaire with your standoffish attitude at a huge social gathering. You are yourself and never pretend to be more or less than that. Plus you're the most stubborn person in the world, refusing to let good things go without reason.
This is a rewrite of my story Awesomest of Them All, I wanted to see how much I've improved over 3 years.
As soon as you and your family arrived back home Bruce dove head first into this case, sometimes going for a few days without talking to you more than once or twice. This was usually how things went when there was something big going on, and normally you'd make him pay attention to you at least one every few days. But this case felt different, you felt like he needed this time to work on this one. On top of that you were in the middle of editing another book you'd written so you were able to do something to keep yourself from feeling completely ignored.
It was for weeks on end that life went on like this, and you let it go on for a while, until you had almost finished with editing and noticed that it had been more than a few nights in a row that you had fallen asleep and woken up in bed alone. So tonight after three nights of sleeping alone, it reaches midnight and you make your way down to the cave, knowing your husband had been coming back for Damian to be able to get a reasonable amount of sleep because he had school on the morning, and you wait for him. When they finally arrive back home you're waiting for them, in your pajamas, leaning against the desk of the computer. You had already sent Tim up to bed and volunteered to take over while he got some sleep.
When they get home you give Damian a soft smile as you say, "Sleep well."
He nods in reply and makes his way to change before heading upstairs.
After he's gone you turn to face Bruce, "So, are you going to come to bed dressed like that, or would you like to change?" You cross your arms and give him a look to let him know you're serious about this. "Because as your wife I demand at least 16 hours of your full undivided attention, because it's been weeks."
"Alright, dear," with that he scoops you up in his arms and carries you to your bedroom, still fully dressed as Batman. Once you both make it upstairs he goes and changes into sweatpants and no shirt before coming and lying next to you where he sat you on the bed.
You can tell that he's tired since after he lies down he pulls you against his chest, wrapping his arms and legs around you protectively and doesn't even say anything to you. "I love you," you state and give him a kiss before snuggling fully into him.
--^--^--
You wake up to Bruce running his hand through your hair, and you open your eyes to see his face in front of yours. "Hi, handsome," you say tiredly.
He smiles softly and gives you a kiss, "good morning beautiful."
You smile and roll over so you're lying on top of him, and glance at the clock. "Well, it looks like I still get another four hours of your attention." With that you look back at him and kiss him deeply, and her slides his hands up your shirt against your back, holding you as close as possible, just wanting to feel your body.
--^--^--
A few hours later as you're lying against his side and tracing your fingers on his chest, he says, "Honey, there's something I need to tell you."
You tilt your head just enough to look at his face, "yeah?"
"The first night I didn't come to bed. It was because we were finally able to track down the Redhood. And, well, I'm not sure how to say this any better, The Redhood is Jason. Jason is alive."
You can hardly believe what it is he's telling you, you're just frozen there staring at him until finally you get yourself to ask, "Are you sure?"
"Yes, thats why I've waited this long to tell you. I needed to be sure for you."
Tears form in your eyes, as you look at your husband. He was serious very often but you had rarely ever seen him this serious, the last time you'd seen this look on his face was as he said 'I do'. He kisses you gently, and you can hardly believe it, your baby who you thought you had lost for these few long years was alive. "Why, do I feel like there is something to this you haven't told me? There has to be a reason he hasn't come here."
"There is... I don't know yet how he came back but he did. He's still recovering his memory. And, he's not the same as he was when we lost him, he's killing people... and I confronted him about it," he looks almost ashamed as he says the last part.
"So, now he's mad at you?" you guess, and his slight nod is enough of an answer for you. "Thats alright, we just need patience. You saw what it took for Damian to even come this far, for Dick to finally come back to us. We'll figure it out, him being alive just means we have that chance again," with that you kiss him to let him know you're serious.
--^--^--
You and Bruce had been invited to the policeman's ball for the GCPD and Bruce wasn't able to come so you had gone for the both of you, ugh. The ball was over so you were heading out to your car that was in the parking garage. As you're walking you keep thinking you hear another set of footsteps. They're subtle and anyone who wasn't married to the most paranoid man in the world wouldn't think it was anything, but you did. You kept walking confidently, trying to figure out where it was they were coming from, since there was no one else out here right now since you were leaving early.
As you get to your car the lights in that part of the garage go out. You freeze not moving to unlock your car, just waiting for whoever it was that had been following you to make the first move. You might be wearing a fancy dress and be in heels but that doesn't mean you can't kick ass if you need too. The first move you make is pulling your heels off, giving yourself a weapon, and making it easier in case you needed to run.
Theres a shuffle behind you and you spin around, only to be facing who you could only assume was Redhood, judging by his choice of headgear. You stay still, waiting for him to make the first move, praying that if it really was Jason he'd say something. Slowly he raises his hands, showing they're empty, and removes his helmet, and a mask from under that. Your breath hitches when you see him, he was older, he looked tired, but there was no mistaking him, "Jason," it comes out barely audible.
"Hi, Mama," thats it. That's all he says.
You pause for a split second before dropping your shoes, and taking a step towards him, holding your arms open, asking if it's alright for you to hug him. He closes the rest of the gap as soon as he sees that. And as soon as he's in your arms thats when you break, thats when you start to sob. You both stand there hugging each other tightly, and as you do you can feel him shaking slightly, but you don't say anything, knowing he just needs to let it out.
Eventually both of you pull away slightly, and you look up at him, he'd gotten so tall, but that doesn't stop you from giving him a motherly kiss on the forehead and holding his cheeks so you can look in his eyes. "Can I ask what happened, or not right now?" You ask this quietly as you look at his eyes, they aren't blue anymore they're an eerie shade of green, and they look hurt, he has this deep pain behind them that isn't just going to go away over night.
"Not right now, please, I just wanted to see you."
"Thats alright, my Jay-bear."
He seems a little startled by the nickname, it had been years since you'd called him that, since anyone had.
"What?" You say raising an eyebrow, "you know you'll always be my little Jay-bear even if you are taller than me now. Is it alright if I tell Bruce I saw you, or would you rather I didn't?" You ask this without explaining why you'd even wonder this.
A small smile comes to his face and he hugs you tightly once again. "You can, it'll be better than him figuring it out himself," a pause before letting go, "I should probably get going... I'll see you around though right ma?"
"Of course you will, my phone number hasn't changed it you need anything. And I can keep a secret at least for a while, so don't go sending me your address, but if you tell me when and where we can meet up." With that you hug him one last time and watch as he puts his mask and helmet back on and he makes sure you get into your car safely and as you head home he heads off into the night.
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marauderundercover · 3 years
Text
A Thousand Years: Ch. 3
AO3
Prev
As Dick makes another joke, Marinette can’t help but laugh. She felt lighter than she had in months. She just clicked with Dick. With him, it was easy. The pain from everything in Paris wasn’t gone. She was sure it would take much longer for the pain to go away completely- if it ever could. But laughing and talking with Dick? It made the pain manageable.
“Wait, but then what did you do?” Marinette asks, invested in his story of a fight he’d had with one of his brothers. Dick chuckles.
“I-” He starts, but then his phone (as well as several others in the restaurant) start going off. He frowns, glancing at her. Marinette waves it off, and his shoulders relax slightly before he picks it up. “Rogue attack two streets over. It’s Two Face, Police have the area blocked off.” He reads aloud.
“Should we evacuate?” Marinette asks. She’d been so secluded since moving to Gotham, she’d managed to avoid Rogue attacks. Dick winces.
“Well, actually-” He starts to say, but Marinette’s eyes widen in realization.
“Damian! You should probably go to your brother.” She says quickly. Dick blinks.
“What?” He asks. Marinette winces, hoping he doesn’t think she’s odd or anything.
“Sorry, I just-” She takes a deep breath. “I remember when we would have villain attacks in Paris. My parents always tried to find me, if they could.” She says, remembering how many times she had to (as Ladybug) drag her parents out of dangerous places just because they were trying to get to her. If possible, Dick’s face softens even more.
“You wouldn’t be mad?” He asks. She shakes her head incredulously.
“Of course not. This is only our first date and even if it wasn’t, family comes first.” She says firmly. Dick’s lips twitch up slightly.
“Only our first?” He asks. Marinette’s face heats up.
“I mean, I wouldn’t say no to a second date.” She squeaks out. Dick smiles, reaching out and squeezing her hand gently.
“I’m looking forward to it.” He says before his eyes dart back to his phone.
“Go. I’ll be fine. I’ll text you when I get back to my apartment.” Marinette says, trying to reassure him. Dick nods, giving her hand a final squeeze before rushing out of the restaurant. Not even a minute later, their waitress stops by the table.
“Your date paid and left a tip. Not trying to chase you out, but ya might wanna leave before things get crazy.” She says, eyes darting to glance out the window. Marinette blinks, but nods and gathers her stuff. Hopefully next time, their date wouldn’t be interrupted by a Rogue. But knowing Gotham…she was sure it was unlikely that they’d be that lucky.
---
Three weeks after their first date (which was, in fact, followed by five more dates. Only two of which were interrupted by Rogue attacks), Marinette lounges in her living room in her pajamas. She had a cup of tea on the table in front of her as she worked on the embroidery for a new jacket for Jagged. She was trying desperately to concentrate, but it was hard.
“Pigtails, you need to breathe.” Plagg says softly, landing on her shoulder. Marinette lets out a shaky breath, trying to push down her panic.
“I know it’s silly, but the Rogue attack was in Dick’s neighborhood this time. And I know Damian can take care of himself, Dick’s told me that a million times. But I still haven’t heard from Dick. And I just-” Marinette stops, taking a moment to catch her breath and try to calm herself. “I hate feeling useless.” She says quietly, eyes clenched shut. Silence.
“I-” Plagg starts. Marinette opens her eyes, glancing at her friend as he stares up at her with confusion clear on his face. “I thought you didn’t want to be a hero anymore.” He says softly. Marinette laughs humorlessly.
“Isn’t that the truth.” She says, before sighing. “I just- Being Ladybug was part of me for so long. And I worked so hard trying to save everyone. And I couldn’t.” It was hard. Marinette had always been the type of person who felt as though she needed to be the one to fix things. She’d always been a fixer, someone that others could lean on to take care of the problems around them. The fact that Gotham was obviously struggling with all of these villains and she wasn’t doing anything about it? Made her anxious. The fact that her boy- the guy she was seeing and his little brother could be in danger because she was choosing not to don the suit again? It made her feel guilty and panicked. Just as she’s about to say ‘screw it’ and put on her earrings, there’s a thud on her balcony. Furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, Marinette grabs her scissors off her coffee table (it was Gotham, after all) and moves towards the sliding glass door. Pushing aside the curtains, Marinette gasps at the sight. Immediately, she throws open the door and rushes into the cool night air.
“Robin? Hey, can you hear me?” She asks gently. She didn’t want to treat him like a kid, even though he clearly was. From experience, she knew how frustrating it was to save the city but still be patronized. He groans lightly and Marinette lets out a shuddering breath. Okay. so he was alive at least. Glancing around, Marinette frowns. No Batman. Okay. Okay, she could handle this. Carefully, Marinette helps the boy up so that she’s practically carrying him, but his feet were still on the ground.
“Mfine.” He grumbles. Marinette huffs.
“Sure you are. Just try and walk a little okay. I don’t know what happened, but you can stay here until Batman comes to get you.” She says, struggling to get him into the apartment. Miraculously, she manages to get him to the couch. He tries to lay down, but she makes him stay sitting up.
“Tt. Stop.” He says. Marinette purses her lips.
“Listen, Robin. Until I can either check you for injuries or you can tell me what happened, I’m not letting you go to sleep. Especially in case you hit your head.” She says. His shoulders slump slightly, obviously giving in a bit. “I can’t check your eyes, so I’m going to see if I can see a knot on your head okay?” He makes a small noise of approval and Marinette gently prods his head, moving his hair around to try and see if a head injury was the problem. On the very back of his head was a huge knot. Her fingers brush against it and Robin flinches. Marinette bites her lip. Okay. Head injury is one. Taking a small step back, she glances at him, trying to figure out if he’s bleeding from anywhere. Making a split second decision, she rushes to the Kwami’s room. Running into it, she grabs a few medical supplies before glancing over at Wayzz who was smiling at her gently, as if he knew she was going to ask for help.
“I will see what I can do.” He says softly. She gives him a tight smile.
“Thank you.” She says softly before turning and walking back to the injured kid. Hero. She cleans the few scrapes she can see on his face and hands, trying to stay out of Wayzz’ way as he floats around and works on lightly healing the worst of Robin’s injuries. She’d get the run down from him later. Right now, she needed to work on keeping Robin awake.
“You have a tracker, right?” She asks. Robin blinks.
“What?” He asks, already sounding slightly better as Wayzz uses his magic.
“You. Tracker. Do you need to activate it, or will Batman be able to find you? I also have a phone if you’d rather call him?” Marinette suggests, suddenly feeling awkward. She wasn’t used to helping heroes that she didn’t personally know. It’d been a long time since that. Robin winces and Marinette frowns.
“He was not aware I left.” He says. Marinette winces, feeling a little bad for the hero. Vigilante, whatever. She’d wondered why he wasn’t mentioned in the coverage from the Rogue attack earlier.
“He has to know, Robin. Even if he didn’t know yet, you’re not in any shape to try and get back on your own.” Marinette points out. Robin opens his mouth, likely to argue, but then clamps it shut instead.
“Very well.” He says, reaching down and pressing a button on his belt. “He should be here shortly.”
“Can I get you anything to drink? Pain medicine or something?” She asks. Noting the hesitation in his body language, Marinette adds, “The bottle of Tylenol is brand new. Still sealed, I’ll even let you open it. And I’ll give you a bottle of water.” She waits, hoping he’d trust her just a little.
“Very well. That would be…appreciated.” He says, and Marinette is happy to note the color slowly returning to his cheeks. He’d looked almost green when he’d first landed on her balcony. Probably a result of his head injury. Nodding, Marinette stands and moves to get the medicine and water. Bringing it back in, she gives Wayzz a small nod as he darts out of the room. She’d make sure to thank him more later. Just as she passes the medicine and water to Robin, there’s another thud on her balcony. Robin starts to stand, but she makes him sit back down.
“Stay here. Just in case it isn’t Batman.” She says, grabbing the scissors once again and heading back over to the balcony. Peeking out of the curtains, she relaxes at the sight of Batman pacing on her balcony. Marinette opens the door, giving a small nod to the man.
“Is Robin okay?” He asks, his worry clear in both his voice and his frown. Marinette nods.
“He’s conscious. He hit his head somehow, but overall he should be fine.” She says, stepping to the side and letting him enter the room. She expected him to yell at Robin. Or ask how he was feeling. She was not expecting him to run to her couch and swoop the younger hero up into a big hug. Marinette hears Robin’s shocked inhale and she immediately turns, giving the two some privacy. Batman was nothing like the stories she’d heard of him. But the theories that Robin was Batman’s son definitely seemed accurate. Though why the man felt comfortable enough around her to have that emotional moment in her living room, she’d never know. After a few moments, she hears someone clear their throat. Turning around, she gives Robin a small smile before glancing towards Batman.
“Thank you, for looking after him.” He says, his voice much calmer. Marinette shrugs.
“Hey, you guys do a lot for this city. This was the least I could do.” She says. Batman nods.
“Thank you.” Robin says quietly. Marinette’s eyebrows shoot straight up, slightly shocked at the thanks. Marinette grins and nods at him before remembering her earlier panic for Dick and Damian.
“Uh, Batman?” She says. He turns back towards her. “There were no civilians seriously injured tonight, right? It’s just- the Rogue attack was near my boyfriend and his son and I haven’t heard from him.”
“Oh, uh, no. There weren’t. I’m sure they’re fine.” He says. “Thank you again for looking after Robin.” He says before grabbing a tool from his belt. He pulls Robin closer to him before using the grappling hook to leap from her balcony. Once they’re gone, Marinette feels herself deflate slightly, the adrenaline escaping her as worry crashes over her once again.
“Guardian?” Wayzz says softly. Marinette turns to him, lips twitching up faintly.
“Thank you so much.” She says. He nods.
“He had a concussion and a few broken ribs. His concussion should be lessened and the ribs are now merely bruised.” He says. She sighs in relief.
“Would you care for some tea?” She asks. He smiles.
“Thank you, Guardian.” He says. She nods, and moves to the kitchen to make some of his favorite tea. It’d been awhile since she sat and had a cup of tea with Wayzz. It was also therapeutic. Just as she sets the water on the stove to boil, her phone rings. Picking it up, she sighs in relief at the caller id before answering.
“Hey, how are you guys?” She asks. Dick laughs lightly.
“Hello to you, too.” He says.
“Sorry, I was just worried.” She says softly.
“Yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner. Damian kinda got in a bit of a fight at school and was injured-”
“Is he okay? Do you need a lawyer? My uncle knows a couple of lawyers who aren’t corrupt in this town. Is Damian in the hospital? Is he-”
“Mari!” Dick says, cutting her off. Marinette takes a deep breath. “Babe, he’s fine. I’m sorry I didn’t call you earlier. Or at least text you and let you know we’re safe.” He apologizes. Marinette sighs.
“You don’t have to apologize, Dick. I was just being silly.” She says.
“You were not being silly. It kinda makes me feel good that you worry about me.” He says. Marinette snorts.
“Well of course I worry about you.” She says, keeping an eye on the water for the tea.
“So this weekend, there’s a fair.” Dick says. “I was wondering if you would go with me and Damian.” Marinette’s eyes widen slightly. She’d met Damian in passing once, but she’d never spent an extended amount of time with him. She was pretty sure that he didn’t like her. Like, at all.
“Is Damian okay with that?” She asks, worried about making him uncomfortable.
“It was actually his idea.” Dick says. Marinette’s eyes widen.
“Wait really?” She asks. Dick laughs.
“I was shocked too. It was originally just gonna be me and him, but he asked if I thought you’d like to come too.” He says. Marinette grins.
“Well in that case, how could I say no.” She says.
“Perfect. We’ll pick you up at ten on Saturday morning?” Dick asks. Marinette pulls the water off the stove and pours it into the cups.
“Sounds great. See you then.” She says, unable to stop smiling.
“See you.” He says, a short pause on the other end before he hangs up. Marinette grins, excitement running through her as she thought about how much fun they’d have in just two days. For the first time in a while, everything felt right.
Story tag list (open): @dickinette-february
Permanent tag list:  @stainedglassm  @laydeekrayzee @doll246 @queenz-z @deathssilentapproach-blog @literaryhiraeth @unoriginalmess @crazylittlemunchkin @buttercupsbitch @toodaloo-kangaroo @jayjayspixiepop
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softmakoharus · 3 years
Text
makoharu fanfiction - every moment with you
Summary: Although Makoto's and Haru's busy schedules have been keeping them from spending much time together, they manage to make the most out of Valentine's Day with each other. Words: 3155 Rating: General Audiences Additional tags: Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, First Kiss, Valentine's Day Link: AO3 Haru lies down, immediately irritated at himself for not falling asleep the very moment his head hits the pillow. These past few weeks have been exhausting, and he wants to use every last second of what little free time he has to sleep. It may be approaching dinner time right now, but for Haru, it's time for a nap. He hadn't even bothered to turn off the light, or change into his pajamas, or— Suddenly, he hears the front door open. Right, he hadn't bothered to check and see if the front door was locked either. Anyway, he's sure he won't waste more than a few minutes drifting off to sleep, as long as whoever just walked in is quiet. Wait, whoever just walked in?! Haru quickly opens his eyes and sits up, his heart racing, only to see an equally wide-eyed Makoto standing in his doorway. “Haru! You startled me.” “You? What about me?”
“I messaged you that I was heading over! You didn't get it?” Makoto pulls out his phone and confirms the message went through on his end. “Just now, were you asleep?” Haru respositions himself to sit on the edge of his bed and blinks a few times, completely confused. He feels like he's missing an extremely important piece of information. He and Makoto haven’t seen each other in a while, what with their busy schedules, and they hadn't made any plans except for Valentine's Day, but that's not until a few days—no, it's next week. Wait, what day is it? Makoto gives an understanding smile. “Did you forget? I should have reminded you when we were talking earlier.” It's today. February 14th. Valentine's Day. And they were supposed to be going out on a casual date together. “No! I mean, I didn't forget. I just didn't realize that today was... today. I'm sorry.” “Really, it's ok. I'm sorry I woke you up. You've been busy, too.” Haru's chest tightens. Don't apologize for that, like you did something wrong. The last thing he wants to do is disappoint Makoto, and he definitely doesn't want to cancel their date, but he also thinks he's going to lose his mind if he has to stay awake much longer. It pains him to say the words he knows he has to say. “I don't think I can go out tonight after all. I'm really sorry.” Makoto sits next to Haru on his bed and tries not to let his smile falter. “Right, I understand. You should rest.” “You look disappointed.” Of course Haru sees through him. “I'm not! Well, I was looking forward to going out with you tonight, but I'm not upset or anything. I wish you felt better, for your own sake, too.” Even though he's the one who canceled, it's difficult for Haru to accept the decision. As soon as he and Makoto had started dating last month, it was as though both of them were suddenly being pulled apart from each other. There were classes and projects and extracurriculars stopping them from exploring this new aspect of their relationship. It was unfair. Haru felt immature to think of it that way, but it was just entirely unfair! The two of them had agreed, rather reluctantly but also perhaps rather maturely, that they'd try not to distract each other too much from their responsibilities and just ride out this temporary busyness. They were at least able to message each other throughout the day. Haru was thankful that Makoto had decided from the beginning to call him on the phone every evening, even if it was just a quick goodnight call, and from the beginning, Haru had gotten way too attached to hearing Makoto say, "I love you." He felt silly when his heart fluttered every time Makoto would say those words, or when his laugh would get so loud sometimes over the phone, or when he'd fall asleep before properly hanging up. Thoughts of Makoto too would send his heart racing, just simple things like wondering what he was doing, if he was listening to any music, or imagining him sitting there in his room to keep him company. Makoto was always with him in his mind and in his heart. But with so little physical contact over the past few weeks, Haru finds himself craving even the smallest touch from his boyfriend. He wants his heart to flutter not just with words, but with the brushing aside of his bangs, or holding his hand, or, the thing he had been thinking about the most, their first kiss. Haru sighs; their schedules will free up soon, and they just have to last until then, despite his impatience with the matter and his completely fair anger at the universe for making things so unfairly complicated. As easy as it is for Haru to see Makoto’s true feelings, Makoto can see Haru’s, too. “You're also disappointed, hm?” Then, as if he had read Haru's mind, Makoto reaches out and cups Haru's cheek. His hand is warm and loving, and Haru can't help but push against, nuzzling it ever so slightly, letting his eyes close in comfort. He sighs again, relieved this time. Seeing Makoto now, if only for a moment, makes him happier than he knows how to express. Being with him, touching him, makes his heart burst with emotions. He doesn’t know exactly what to do with those emotions, but they flow through him and put him at ease. Even though he knows that Makoto is essentially always with him, it's so much better when he really is here. Makoto removes his hand and places it over Haru's. “We'll go out when things calm down a bit.” “Right,” Haru replies, returning that smile. “Then, I'll let you sleep.” Makoto starts to stand, but he sits back down when he feels Haru holding on to his sleeve. “Since you're here, do you want to lie down with me?” continue reading on AO3 >>
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naturallytom · 3 years
Text
Mending a Broken Heart (Tom Holland x reader, alternative part)
a/n: me? writing? unheard of. jk im tryin to get back into the groove!! this is an alternate version to Mending a Broken Heart, so some parts are the same and some I’ve edited or added some things! hope u enjoy!! 
warnings: language, angst, mentions of cheating
please reblog/leave feedback!!
picture not mine!
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You had noticed it for months. Tom has been pulling away, spending more time out with the boys than at home with you. His kisses became forced and the words ‘love you’ slowly stopped falling from his lips. 
Most days he would leave for work before you woke up and on the rare occasion you were up when he left, he would mumble a ‘goodbye’ before walking out the door. Sometimes, if you were lucky, he would press a gentle kiss to your forehead. Most times, though, he would just leave. 
You did your best to keep the love alive, you were still madly in love with him. The wedding band that sat tightly on your ring finger mocked you. A symbol of what was love has turned into one sided love. Hell, you weren’t sure if Tom wore his wedding ring anymore. 
A quick glance to his left hand would reveal that he didn’t. 
You spent your nights wondering if it was something you did. Were you too clingy when he left to film? Was he just tired of you after four years of marriage? Did he find someone else?
No. You shook your head to yourself one night as you laid in the bed by yourself, the space usually occupied by Tom cold. If he found someone else and if he cheated, that’s on him. Not on you. 
Still, the thought plagued your mind. Did he meet someone else? Was she prettier than you? Is that where he was when he said he was out with the boys? Was she able to give him something you couldn’t give him?
The door opening and shutting alerted you that Tom was home. You sighed, knowing it’d be another night of sleeping on opposite sides of the bed. 
The door to the bedroom opened and in came Tom, Tessa jumping up to greet him. 
“Hey girl, hey love, how are you, hm?” He whispered, petting Tessa as his eyes flickering over to you, who was visibly awake. “Thought you’d be asleep by now. ‘S late.” 
“Couldn’t sleep.” You replied simply. “Hey so I was thinking, we haven’t had a date night in a while, maybe you wanted to go out to see the Halloween decorations around town and get dinner tomorrow night?” 
“Can’t,” He shook his head as he got ready for bed. “Harrison wants to watch the game. Told him I’d go.” 
“Didn’t you just see Harrison tonight?” 
“Yeah, and?” 
“Nothing.” You sighed, obviously upset. “Nothing, Tom. Goodnight.” 
“Night.” He responded, turning out the light and climbing into bed, falling asleep with his back toward you. 
-
The next day, you were surprised to see Tom already awake and waiting in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of tea when you got downstairs. 
“Good morning.” You smiled softly. 
“We need to talk.” He told you. You felt your heart drop and your palms get sweaty, but you wiped them on your pajama pants in an effort to seem totally calm and not panicked. 
“A-About what?” You asked, your voice coming out shaky. 
“I think,” Tom started. “I think we should get divorced.” 
It was then, at 8:30 am that your world came crashing down. 
“W-What?” You whimpered out, your voice weaker than before. “Why?”
“I’m not happy with you anymore.” He said simply. Your eyes flickered to his left hand, noticing the absence of the golden wedding band, making your heart ache. 
“We can try couples’ therapy. We can go on dates like we used to, Tom, please! We can fight for this, Tom. Fight for us.” You cried, your heart shattering into a million tiny pieces, each one puncturing your lungs as you struggled to keep your breath under control. 
“No,” He shook his head. “My mind is made up. I’m sorry, y/n. Um, I found a lawyer at a firm, they have a lot of other lawyers there you can contact. I’ll just, uh, leave their card here.” 
“So that’s it? Three years of dating and four years of marriage down the drain?” You sobbed, holding your knees to your chest as you sat on the kitchen floor. 
“I’m sorry, y/n. Truly, I am.”
He placed the small business card on the counter, grabbing the bags you didn’t even notice, mumbling an ‘I’ll be staying with Haz,’ before walking out the front door, like he did every other day. This time, though, you had the sinking feeling he was leaving for good. 
-
It was only three weeks that your lawyer came over to meet with you, joined by Tom and his lawyer. You kept your eyes focused on the table as you signed the paperwork, wanting to get this done as soon as possible. 
As soon as everyone left, you shut the door, slid down the back of it, and cried. 
-
Nearly two months after the worst day of your life and it was time for a self care night. The ring that once sat on your left hand was buried away in your jewelry box somewhere and you were finally starting to feel free and somewhat happy again after crying yourself to sleep and wondering where it all went wrong for months. 
After the divorce you buried yourself in work, using it as a distraction from going home to an empty house. You also moved out of the house you once called home. Not only was it too painful to go home to an empty house, but it was too painful to go home to a house that held so many happy and loving memories. You took the necessities along with some things you wanted with you and set yourself up in a hotel room for the time being. You treated it as a vacation. Except only a few people knew where you were. Your family knew, along with your friends, including Harrison, on the condition he didn’t tell Tom where you were. You started making time for yourself in your little hotel room and you became happier. 
Tonight, after a long day of work, you ordered your favorite Chinese food, played your favorite songs, and ran yourself a bath with a vanilla scented bath bomb. You were enjoying a glass of wine, the hot water of the bath soothing you when the music playing from your phone was interrupted by a call coming in. 
To your surprise, it was Tom. You contemplated answering it, but instead, let it go to voicemail. However, you were curious as to why he called, though you were also 99% positive it was a pocket dial. So you played the voicemail, the familiar voice ringing throughout the bathroom. 
“Hey y/n, um, I hope you’re doing well. I just called because I wanted to tell you something. I um, I miss you. A lot. And I know I don’t get to feel that way but I do and I just wanted to tell you that and I guess ask if there was any possibility of meeting to talk? Uh, call me back if...if you want. I don’t blame you if you hate me. Bye. Love y-” 
You turned off the voicemail before the phrase could be finished. Millions of thoughts filled your mind, ranging from happy ones to ones that made your heart ache and tears fill your eyes. 
You decided to ignore it, pretend it never happened, and enjoy your self care night. 
-
When Tom pulled up to his former house with flowers in his car and a pit of nerves in his stomach, he expected to see your car in the driveway and at least one light to be on. He was greeted with an empty driveway and a dark house, which confused him. It was the weekend, so you weren’t work. Maybe you had to run an errand? 
But after 20 minutes, he gave up hope that you were home and tried to call you, which to no surprise, you didn’t pick up again. He instead called Harrison in an effort to try and find out if he knew where you were. 
“What do you want?” Harrison answered, half concentrating on what Tom was about to say and half concentrating on the game in front of him. 
“Do, uh, do you know where y/n is?” Tom asked, taking Harrison by surprise. 
“y/n?” Harrison paused the game, suddenly not able to concentrate on it. “Why d’you want to know where y/n is?”
“I just want to talk to her.” He mumbled. 
“If I knew that’s where you were going I wouldn’t have let you go.” Harrison sighed. “Listen she made me swear that I wouldn’t tell you-” 
“Please Harrison? You’ve seen how much of a mess I’ve been. I just want to see if I have a shot.” Tom begged, making his friend cave. 
“Fine but if she moves again I won’t be telling you shit.”  
-
The next day you were enjoying a cup of tea and reading your book, getting some relaxation in before your week began when a knock on the door interrupted you. Confusion filled your body, you weren’t expecting anyone to pop by. 
Looking out the peephole, you froze at the sight that greeted you. Tom was standing outside your door, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands. 
“Hi.” He breathed out, his nose and the tips of his ears red from the harsh winter air. 
“How the hell did you find me?” You asked, keeping your eyes focused on the ground. 
“Harrison. I begged him to tell me.” He answered. 
“I’m gonna kill him.” You muttered. “What do you want?”
“Can..Can I come in?” He asked. 
You wanted to say no, that he could say what he wanted to say outside or just not let him speak at all. But you wanted to be courteous to the other people on your floor and part of you was curious as to what he was going to say. So you wordlessly opened the door slightly, letting him in and closing the door behind him. 
“Now what do you want?”
“Did you get my voicemail?” He responded, hope filling his eyes when you nodded. “Um, I brought these for you. I was hoping we could talk.” 
“I don’t want your flowers. Why should I talk to you? We’re divorced, just like you wanted.” Tom winced at the words. “Nothing to change.” 
“Actually, we’re not.” He corrected. “I called the office the other day. Um, it’s not official yet.” 
“Well then they should make it official. Maybe I can call them and make it happen as my very last Christmas present to you. Just what you wanted.” You snapped. 
“No, this isn’t what I want, can I speak, please?” He pleaded, his eyes resembling those of a puppy. 
“You’re speaking already.” You answered, gesturing for him to continue nonetheless. 
“I- How have you been? I stopped by the house-”
“Tom I’m not gonna listen to your small talk. Say what you have to say and leave.” You told him. His heart broke but he couldn’t blame you. 
“Um, so I thought I wasn’t happy with you but um, as time went on, I realized how much I miss having you in my life.” He began, visibly nervous. “I was just looking through our pictures and how happy you looked and I just, I guess I realized I wanted to be the one to make you that happy again.”
“You haven’t made me happy in months, Tom.” 
“I know.” His heart clenched. “I know and I’m so sorry, y/n. I really am.” 
“Was there someone else? Did you cheat on me?” You asked. 
“No, no absolutely not, y/n.” He answered before adding; “I went on a date with someone after we split up but it didn’t work out. I realized she wasn’t what I want.” 
“Of course she wasn’t.” You scoffed. 
“I want you, y/n. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy again.” He told you, tears filling your eyes. “Is there..is there any possibility you could love me again?” 
“Again?” You seethed. “Tom I never fell out of love with you! I never stopped loving you! That was all you! You stopped loving me and you wanted this stupid fucking divorce!”
“I..I don’t think I ever stopped loving you either.” He whispered, tears falling down his rosy cheeks. “Please, y/n, if there’s even the tiniest chance..” 
“Of what, Tom? Of going right back to being married? Of you making me happy? I don’t know, Tom! I don’t know anything except that I hate you right now.” You sobbed, crying into your knees while Tom let out quiet sobs of his own, his heart clenching at the lack of wedding band on your left hand and the lack of love in your voice, but especially your eyes. Your eyes, which once held so much love and adoration for him were now full of anger and resentment. 
“Of..anything, y/n. Please, I just want a second chance to show you how much you mean to me, to make you happy again. I will do anything to save us, anything you want. And...and if it’s not working or you just really hate me, I wouldn’t blame you. Not at all.” He begged, his eyes puffy and red. 
“I tried to save us, Tom. Don’t you remember? I begged and pleaded with you to do couples therapy to go on dates when you were breaking my heart into a million tiny pieces. I begged you to try and fight for us, for our marriage, but you just walked out the god damn door!” You spit through gritted teeth. 
“I fucked up, I know. I fucked up so badly.” He cried, wiping his tears away. 
“And if leaving me wasn’t enough, you took Tessa too! I was left completely alone in that big fucking house that was haunted by you. I couldn’t stand it.” You sobbed. 
“I’m..I’m sorry, y/n. So so fucking sorry. What do you want me to do?” 
“I want...I want you to hurt. I want you to hurt the way you hurt me. I want you to know how this fucking feels.” You said, your voice getting louder with each word that fell from your lips.
Tom could only cry. This was ripping him apart, he couldn’t even imagine what the whole thing felt like to you. 
“I’m gonna need time to think, Tom.” You finally mumbled, Tom nodding in response. 
“I’ll give you all the time you need. I promise you-” 
“Don’t. Don’t promise me anything.” You spoke, your voice low. “You won’t be able to keep it. You promised you’d love me forever four years ago and look what happened.” 
“y/n pl-”
“You don’t get to do this. You-you don’t get to just waltz right back in here and ask for a second chance to fight for us when I didn’t even get a first chance. How do I know this won’t end like it did before?” 
“y/n, I swear to you, if this isn’t working out, you can leave me. I...I just want a chance to prove myself to you.” He begged. 
“God, Tom. You don’t get it! I’m not going through this again. Do you realize how much you broke me the first time? Fuck, you had a chance, Tom. And you threw it away.” You muttered quietly. 
“I regret that every day. Every god damn day.” He told you honestly.
“I don’t know, Tom.” You sighed. 
“Talk to me?” He tried, knowing you were hiding something deeper than an ‘I don’t know.’
“Don’t know what else there is to say.” You mumbled. “I don’t trust you, I-I can’t trust you. I hate you.” 
“Why’d you get a hotel room?” Tom sniffled, changing the subject. 
“I told you. I hated being in that house. Hated being surrounded by the happy pictures and memories of us.” You told him honestly. “I want to start over.” 
“What?”
“I want to start over. I can’t go back to being emotionally married to you even if we’ll still be married legally. I’m talking starting from scratch, as if we were meeting for the first time, the whole deal.” You told him. 
“That sounds perfect, y/n. Thank y-”
“Get out, Tom. Please. I just want to be alone and not with you right now. I’m still not happy with you.” 
“Okay.” He breathed out, hope filling him once again. “You won’t regret this, I promise.” 
“What did I just say about promises?” You asked tearily. 
“I know, I know. I’m determined to keep this promise, though.” He told you. 
“Fine. Whatever. Just please leave for now.” You whimpered, watching as he walked out the door, just like he did when he broke your heart. 
You decided you needed another self care night. Another bath was run, another vanilla scented bath bomb was used, more wine was consumed. 
Tom texted you right as you got out of the bath. 
Tom: hey y/n, it’s tom, just incase you don’t have my number saved anymore. I just wanted to say thank you for the second chance. I really am grateful. I hope you have a relaxing night, you deserve it. 
You rolled your eyes and tossed your phone gently on your bed, though you could feel your heart rate pick up and butterflies fill your stomach. 
-
Tom began texting you sweet little things each morning, whether it was to let you know that he’s been thinking of you or to tell you that he hopes you have a great day. At first you ignored them, but then you began responding in short answers of one or two words until the two of you were texting every day, like when you met for the first time seven years ago. 
-
Over a month after you started texting again, Tom took you on a first date. Pulling up to your hotel, Tom felt the nerves fill his body as he walked up to your door and knocked, another bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand. 
He felt all the air leave his lungs as you opened the door. You looked absolute stunning. You were wearing a navy blue dress that reached down to just above your knees, one Tom bought you one year. 
“Wow, hi.” He breathed. “You look stunning.” 
“Thank you.” You smiled, accepting the flowers he handed you. “I’ll be right back.” 
Tom took you to your favorite restaurant that night, one that the two of you frequented when you (formerly) went on dates. 
When he took you back to your hotel, he walked you up to the door, where he nervously asked if he could kiss you. 
You said yes, and that was all Tom needed to press a soft kiss to your lips. The kiss was magical, both of you felt the sparks between the two of you. 
“God I missed doing that.” Tom mumbled as he pulled away to breathe. 
“Then do it again.” 
-
A couple months after that, Tom moved back in with you. You had gone back to the house every now and then, to slowly acclimate yourself to being back in the once happy house, only fully moving back when Tom moved back as well. The pictures of the two of you were dusted off, making your heart race instead of hurt at the sight of the happy memories. 
-
Finally, after a year, Tom proposed to you (again). You hesitated a little bit, still scared it would end in heartbreak again, which broke Tom’s heart, but said you yes in the end. 
The two of you renewed your vows, putting on the golden bands that were once again a symbol of the love the two of you shared. 
You had a small party back at your house after the ceremony, your families joining to celebrate. You found Tom alone in the kitchen, grabbing a beer for him and Harry. 
“Hey.” You greeted, fiddling with your fingers as tears of happiness filled your eyes. 
“Hey, what’s wrong, my love?” Tom asked, concerned as soon he saw the tears filling your eyes. 
“Nothing, nothing. I, um,” You started, wiping your tears away and wrapping your arms around Tom’s neck. “I’m really glad we made it back to this.” 
“Me too, lovey. I love you so much.” He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
“Hey, Tommy?” 
“Yeah?” 
“You kept your promise.” You smiled softly, making Tom’s heart ache at the memory of you not being able to trust him. 
“I told you I would.” 
Your moment was interrupted by Harrison, who entered the kitchen, smiling at his two best friends happily in love once again. 
“Aren’t you so glad I told him where you were staying?” He joked, making you roll your eyes. 
“Shut up, Harrison.” You smiled. As your eyes flickered between Tom and Harrison, though, you knew you wouldn’t have been in this position if Harrison didn’t spill the beans to Tom. 
“Hey Haz?” You called, as Harrison went to leave the kitchen in fake offense. He turned at the sound of his name, knowing what was coming. 
“Thank you.” Tom nodded in agreement, his arm slipping around your waist. 
Harrison just smiled even bigger, all three of you knowing everything would be okay from now on.
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Text
Wilbur’s Hair Salon (The Ashes of Yourself Blurb)
The Ashes of Yourself Masterlist
Spotify Playlist (collaborative)
Warnings: getting overwhelmed, swearing
Word count: 2,958
(A/N): this is a lil longer than I expected it to be (longer than the actual chapter I released today oop). Anyways, this could be read without having to read my Ashes of Yourself series, all you have to know is that Philza and Technoblade are absent a lot leaving Wilbur to raise Tommy and the reader and the reader is a blaze hybrid
You frowned at yourself in the mirror, running your hands through your long hair in distaste, the flames tickling your hands. The shears on the bathroom counter sat there taunting you, daring you to take them and cut off all of your hair. The broken water faucet in the sink dripped endlessly, reminding you of what happened when it first started dripping. The small charcoal spot on the back of your hand reminded you of how painful touching water was. 
You hated every aspect of your hair; the way it tickled your neck, the way it kept getting in your face, how people kept mistaking you for a girl, it was just so frustrating. You absolutely hated how fast your hair grew, one day you cut it close to your scalp and a week later it’s already at your shoulders! Your hair was the bane of your existence at the moment. 
You tried countless hairstyles ranging from buns to fancy updos, all of them proved to be useless in the end when you lost control of your emotions and the hair ties and bobby pins burnt to a crisp. You knew from experience that cutting your hair was useless, and so was shoving it all under a beanie you stole from Wilbur, so you gave up and let it grow out. That was a month ago and your hair now reached your lower back. 
Your frustration was growing by the second. The flames on your head flickered wildly and smoke plumed from the strands. You knew that in order to cut your hair you had to relax so that it was tangible, you knew that, but you just couldn’t relax. 
You snatched the shears off from the counter with one hand and gathered all of your hair in your other. The shears were positioned around your hair and without hesitation, you snapped the shears closed. Like you were expecting, the shears only swished through the flames and left them untouched. In a fit of frustration, you repeatedly closed the shears around your hair. The sharp edges did nothing to the length. 
You only paused when you felt something drip onto your forehead. In confusion, you looked at the mirror only to see the previously ivory white iron replaced with glowing oranges and reds. Bits were dripping off from the tool and onto your face. The flames thrashed in your grip, desperate to be unleashed and burn everything in this room to mere ashes. 
Molten tears pricked your eyes as you glared at the hair in your hand, frustrated blaze-like growls rumbling the back of your throat. You knew that if you let this fester any longer, the house would catch on fire (again). You closed your eyes and took deep breaths in an attempt to steady yourself.
It worked slightly for a few moments, the flames now calmly flickering and your hands at their normal temperature, however you could still feel the irritation gnawing on the deepest corners of your mind. 
You put down the cooled down and misshapen shears on the bathroom counter, wiped off the liquid iron from your forehead, and ripped open the door in search for the brother closest to you in age: Tommy.
He wasn’t that hard to find; all you had to do was follow the music to his room. Without knocking, you opened his door and stared at him. He sat up on his bed and looked at you in offence, “oi, what the fuck?! What if I was changing or something? You-” 
“Wanna commit arson?” 
He paused and launched himself off from his bed, “I’m down for some arson, but what’s the occasion?” 
You led him down the stairs and towards the door, “ I’m mad at everything right now and I don’t want to burn down the house.” 
Just as you both were about to leave the house, someone clearing their throat sounded behind you. Your hand froze over the doorknob and you swore to yourself under your breath. Wilbur grabbed both of your shoulders and spun you both around. He was in his pajamas, rage peeking through his sleep clouded eyes. 
“Where do you two think you’re going at this time of night?” Despite only being nineteen years old, he has already perfected the angry dad voice. 
“(Y/n) and I were just going out for a walk, big man. No need to get your panties in a twist.” 
Wilbur’s eyes narrowed, “no you two weren’t. You were gonna go burn some shit again weren’t you?” 
“What does it matter to you where we go? Where we go is none of your business.” You ripped your shoulder out of his grasp and glared at him. You could feel your hair starting to flicker in anger.
He matched your glare with as much, if not more, intensity, “Dad put me in charge, so it’s actually all of my business to know where you’re going at midnight.” 
“Just leave us the fuck alone, Wilbur. You have no idea how much I need this.” 
“Listen Wilbur,” Tommy said warily after feeling the heat radiating off from your body, “(y/n) just needs to get their mind off from things. I wasn’t gonna actually let them commit arson again.”
This made Wilbur pause. Normally Tommy would back you up in arguments but now the oldest could feel the slight urgency in the blond’s voice. He looked back at you and saw that you were quite literally about to combust. He could hear the small blaze noises that you were making as pitch black irises and pale yellow sclera glared at him. Small plumes of smoke were rising from your figure and dissipating into the air the second it met with the ceiling. 
Wilbur then sighed and grabbed his coat, a sword, and, to your surprise, two pairs of flint and steel. “C’mon then,” he gestured to the front door, “let’s go. But only trees this time, got it?” Despite his exasperation and exhaustion with basically raising two preteens that thrived off from arson, he smiled slightly when he saw both of them perk up. They were his youngest siblings and he wanted nothing more than to see them happy.
After finding a lone tree and clearing it of any potential animals and mobs, the siblings lit it on fire. The feeling of finally releasing some pent up anger and frustration was slightly relieving. Though some of your frustration remained, you felt a little more at ease.
Wilbur led both you and Tommy away from the burning tree and sat down on top of a grassy hill, lighting torches to prevent any mobs from sneaking up on you three. The siblings sat in comfortable silence as they watched the flickering flames cut through the darkness of the night. Tommy’s and Wilbur’s faces were lit up in a dull orange hue. 
Eventually, you leaned your head on Wilbur’s shoulder tiredly and yawned loudly. The brunet chuckled to himself and moved to wrap his arms around both of his siblings, pulling them close to his side. You sighed in content and nuzzled your face closer to his side. The blaze of the tree had died down to mere embers and charcoal remains. 
“...Why don’t we go inside before we all fall asleep out here.” Wilbur nudged both of you gently and helped you stand up. 
“I don’t need help, arsehole,” Tommy protested, but did nothing to stop Wilbur from helping him up. “I,” he cut himself off with a large yawn. You, seeing this, yawned yourself. 
“Sure,” Wilbur chuckled and put a steadying hand on yours and Tommy’s shoulders, steering you back towards the house. The siblings walked back into the house where, instead of letting you both go to your separate rooms, Wilbur plopped you both onto the couch and sat between the both of you. He once again wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you both close to his body. 
“The fuck are you doing, Wil?” Tommy protested, weakly trying to push himself away from his older brother. 
Wilbur tightened his grip and slumped down onto the couch, making himself comfortable. “This calls for sibling cuddle time. It’s been a while since we’ve done this anyway.” 
“There’s a reason why we haven’t done this in a while,” Tommy complained, “we’re too old for this shit.” 
“So you want to-” Wilbur’s snarky remark was interrupted by a soft snore coming from his side. He and Tommy stopped arguing and looked over to (y/n). The blaze hybrid’s lips were slightly parted as they snored peacefully, unconsciously nuzzling into Wilbur’s old t-shirt and moving to wrap an arm across Wilbur’s midsection. Their hand landed on Tommy’s long sleeve shirt and gripped it lightly. 
“What the fuck, (y/n).” 
“Tommy I swear to the gods if you wake them up I will make you do all of the chores for a week.” 
Tommy grumbled to himself before he reluctantly leaned his head against Wilbur’s side and putting his hand over (y/n)’s, “fine, but I’m only staying because I don’t want to do your fucking chores again.” 
“Mhm, now go to sleep, Toms, it’s getting late.” 
Tommy fell silent and let himself drift off to sleep. Soon enough, Wilbur himself drifted off to sleep, pulling his siblings closer to him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When you woke up, you were alone on the couch. Sunlight was streaming through the opened curtains and blinded your sensitive eyes. The scent of eggs and toast wafted throughout the house. 
You stretched and made your way to the kitchen. There, Wilbur was standing at the stove flipping eggs and Tommy was sitting at the table with his head burrowed into the crook of his elbow. 
“It’s about time you woke up, I was starting to get worried that you’d sleep until noon,” Wilbur said before he placed plates at the table. He reached over to lightly smack the back of Tommy’s head, “no sleeping at the table.” 
The blond grumbled to himself before pushing himself up onto an elbow and scooping food into his mouth. Wilbur’s eyes narrowed at his elbow on the table before he sighed to himself and ate his own portion of breakfast. 
“So, what’s going on with you? It’s been a while since you wanted to burn something down like that,” Tommy asked you after waking up a little bit more. Wilbur looked over at you in question. 
You sighed and poked at your food, “it’s really stupid.” 
“If it was enough for you to almost completely melt the shears, it isn’t stupid, (y/n). What’d I say about talking about your emotions?” Wilbur softly chided you. 
“‘Don’t call your emotions stupid’,” you droned out before taking a bite of your breakfast, “but this time it really is stupid, Wilby. You both will laugh at me anyways, so just drop it.” 
“We’d never laugh at you,” Wilbur frowned, “and whatever you’re feeling certainly isn’t stupid. Tell us, we’re all ears.” 
You looked up from your plate and saw that they both were looking at you with judgemental free stares. Though his eyes were previously clouded with sleep, Tommy now looked alert and diverted his full attention to you while Wilbur gave you an encouraging smile. 
“...Fine, it’s just… I couldn’t cut my hair last night and it’s just been so overwhelming to constantly deal with. You both know how fast it grows.” You ran a hand over the top of your hair and huffed in frustration. 
“That’s it?” Tommy asked you before Wilbur kicked his shin from under the table. “What Tommy meant to say,” he shot a pointed look at the twelve year old, “is that feeling overwhelmed, no matter what it’s about, is completely normal. We all get overwhelmed sometimes. I’ll tell you what,” he cleared his throat and stood up from his place at the table, “I’ll be right back.” As he passed Tommy’s place, he leaned down close to his ear, “apologize before I get back.” 
You winced at Wilbur’s scathing tone and watched as he walked out of the room in long strides. 
“Sorry,” you and Tommy told each other at the same time. Both of you looked at each other in slight shock, “what-” you cut yourself off as you realized that you both said the same thing again. 
You both eyed each other warily from across the table, watching the other’s mouths closely. You took a deep breath and looked at him seriously, “sorry Toms. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” 
“Wha- I’m the one that’s supposed to say sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one that’s an arsehole that doesn’t think before he speaks, so I’m sorry.” He narrowed his eyes at you, daring you to say another word. As you opened your mouth to object, he sharply said, “ah! No apologizing when you didn’t do anything wrong.” 
You snapped your mouth closed and sighed, propping yourself up onto your elbow. “...You know that I’ll always forgive you no matter what you do, right Tommy?”
“Of course, and I’ll always defend you as well. Even if you end up murdering someone, I’ll help you hide the body. It’s just what older brothers are supposed to do.” 
“So,” you grinned at him, “you’re down for murder now?” 
“Nobody’s murdering anybody.” Wilbur’s voice made the both of you jump. When you both whipped your heads over to the doorway, you saw Wilbur leaning against the doorframe and watching you two with a fond smile. He pushed himself off from the doorframe and placed a wrapped box in front of you. 
“I was waiting until your birthday,” he sat down next to you, “but now is as good a time as ever to give this to you.” 
After a while of hesitance, you ripped the wrapping paper off from the box and peered inside of it. There, a glimmering pair of shears and leather gloves were laying on the bottom of the box. “Woah, are these enchanted?” You looked up at Wilbur with awe filled eyes. 
He looked at you with a wide smile and nodded eagerly, “yes! Both are enchanted with fire protection so you can cut your hair easier!” 
“That is so poggers! Wanna cut your hair now?!” Tommy was leaning across the table and looking into the box with wide, excited eyes. You snatched the gloves out of the box and handed them to him, “yes! Do you wanna cut my hair?!” 
He grabbed the gloves and put them on hastily, jumping out of his chair and darting towards the door. You grabbed the shears and attempted to follow him before Wilbur stopped you with a hand on your shoulder, looking slightly alarmed, “he is not cutting your hair.”
“Well, why not?”
“He isn’t cutting your hair and that’s final. Give me the shears and we can safely cut it in the bathroom.” He held his hand out and gave you a smile, “I know you’re excited, but I just don’t want anyone losing a finger under my watch. That’d be really hard to explain to Dad.” 
You sighed and put the shears into his hand. He led you towards the bathroom and you followed him closely, “I miss Dad, do you know when he’s coming home?” 
“I don’t know, little inferno. Just- just don’t think about him and he’ll be home before you know it.” His tone had a hidden sharp edge to it as he put a hand on your opposite shoulder and lightly squeezed it. “I know it’s hard without him, but we’ll always have each other. Just you, me, and Tommy. We don’t need them as long as we have each other.” 
“Are you two coming or not?!” Tommy poked his head out from the bathroom, staring at you both with slight annoyance. “We are and you are not cutting their hair.” 
“Well,” Tommy scoffed and wiggled his fingers, the light bouncing off from the oversized gloves perfectly, “who has the gloves?” 
You and Wilbur stepped into the bathroom with him guiding you to sit on the closed toilet seat and leaning your head over the sink. Wilbur raised his eyebrows and wiggled the shears in his hand, “who has the shears and the ability to ground you for a few weeks?” 
Tommy huffed and took off the gloves, giving them to Wilbur who slipped them onto his hands. Wilbur grinned cheekily, “that’s what I thought.” He gathered your hair into one hand and looked at you in question, “ready?” 
You grinned back at him, “as ready as I’ll ever be.” 
The shears sliced through your hair with ease and you watched as the fire dissipated into the air. Tommy watched as it floated up in the air and smiled to himself as it disappeared before hitting the ceiling. 
After your haircut, you sat up and looked at yourself in the mirror. It was like Wilbur had read your mind, your hair was exactly how you wanted it. When you looked back at him, he was looking at you with a tender smile. Just as you were about to thank him, Tommy spoke up in a casual tone.
“So Wilbur,” he asked, “would you help us hide a body if one of us accidentally murdered someone?” 
“...Tommy, (y/n), is there something you’re not telling me?” 
“Is that a yes or a no?” You asked him after giving Tommy a quick mischievous smile.
Wilbur slipped the gloves off and tapped his chin in thought. “...I would, that’s what older brothers are for. Hiding bodies for their younger siblings,” he chuckled to himself before he stopped himself and looked at you both slightly nervously, “seriously though, is there something you both aren’t telling me?”
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touyaspeach · 3 years
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previous // masterlist // next
My last made me feel like I would never try again / But when I saw you, I felt something I never felt / Come closer, I'll give you all my love / If you treat me right, baby, I'll give you everything
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chapter three - falling
A/N ; Ah~ this was hard to write because I'm a domestic abuse survivor myself, but the way I want this story to pan out it needed to happen so the reader could get the full gravity of the situation. You'll learn soon why Dabi doesn't leave Hana yet, as oftentimes these situations are more complicated than they first appear. I hope you're enjoying reading this so far! I promise things get better eventually.
Warnings ; Major cw for this chapter : graphic depiction of domestic violence, self harm, blood ingestion, sexual content, violence, slut shaming, swearing
Words ; 4.6k
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You were sick of being cooped up in HQ. Your quirk didn’t allow you to be particularly useful on the battlefield, but you were priceless once things were over.
Your quirk was unique, and it was the reason that Shigaraki singled you out to join the League in the first place, even though you haven’t had to use it a single time in the six months you’ve been there. You were kind of glad for this, by nature things could get a little awkward when your quirk was involved.
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It was known as the Bloody Kiss, a quirk in which upon ingesting your blood, the recipient will either be healed or hurt. Depending on what you decided. It was easy to heal with it, just a slice to the wrist and the injured could drink it up. Harming with it, however, was nearly impossible. Who would willingly drink someone’s blood if they knew it would hurt them?
The biggest catch with your ability, however, was that the worse the wounds were, the more blood had to be consumed. You could damn near bring someone back from the brink of death, but the amount of blood they’d need would almost assure your own demise.
To counteract this effect to some, you carried with you a small case of vials which were filled with your blood. They wouldn’t do much in the way of major injuries, but they’d at least curb the bleeding long enough to keep fighting.
The other catch was the more blood you lost, the more energy you lost. It was a double whammy, draining both your life and the energy that fueled your quirk. Prolonged battles were bad for you, and there were times you’d spent weeks recovering.
Finally, your blood acted as an aphrodisiac. It was theorized this evolved because it helped ease the pain as injuries slowly healed, but for you it tended to make things awkward.
There was more than once someone had forced themselves on you because you were kind enough to heal them. Not all the scars that lined your wrists and marked your body were from using your quirk.
You traced the lines idly with your index and middle finger, cut after cut after cut marred your arms in neat rows. Some had faded to white; others were still purple; others were healing with scabs. You couldn’t remember what the skin had looked like without those scars and you wondered why Dabi hadn’t commented on them before.
It’s not like you hid them. Hell, the first conversation you had with him was in your revealing pajamas. All scars on display for the world to see, yet he didn’t even give them a sidelong glance. You found it curious, but then again, he was also heavily scarred.
It wasn’t just your arms; it was your thighs and your hips too. Even a few stray ones on your chest and back. You’d been at the mercy of people trying to take advantage of your quirk for one reason or another for so long, now that you were with the League you found yourself grateful no major incidents had occurred. You’d heal them, that’s what you were here for, but you were thankful you hadn’t needed to use your quirk yet.
That was changing today, though you didn’t know it yet.
You were going stir crazy, meandering around HQ day in and day out, only occasionally leaving to run errands or shop for supplies. You’d managed to stay under the radar from hero society, you could blend in easier than the rest, so often you were on shopping duty. It never sated your appetite for a bit of excitement though, and you wanted to go somewhere. Anywhere outside of your routine.
You sat on the veranda, puffing on a cigarette as the sun dipped below the horizon. It was finally warming up from a brutal winter, but the evenings were still nippy. You missed Dabi’s company, but he was with Hana today. They were out on a date or something like that. You were jealous, not because of Dabi, but because of getting to go do something fun.
Well, maybe a little because of Dabi, if you were being honest. But it didn’t matter. After your conversation from before it was obvious nothing was going to happen between the two of you. Hana had eventually come around to that conclusion, as well, and though she still spat dirty looks and crude words at you, she at least tolerated your friendship with her beau.
Better she does not know about your embrace, or that you’d almost given into the temptation to kiss him that night.
And several other nights.
It became obvious after a while of confiding in each other that Hana was…abusive. Anytime she’d get angry she didn’t hesitate to hit, throw things, kick, scratch, bite, and even on occasion draw a knife and slice. He took all of it; and you sorely needed to know why. Why he’d put up with it?
But domestic abuse wasn’t so easily explained. You knew this just as well as anyone; that reasonings and rationality goes out of the window in these situations. So, you resolved yourself to patching him up whenever things got serious, to comforting him when needed it, and silently vowing to beat the shit out of that bitch whenever the opportunity arose.
Your heart ached for his situation, though he never broke in front of you. Even at his lowest he never cried. Mostly he just looked exhausted. At least in front of you. There were many nights he choked back silent sobs after your nighttime rendezvous on the veranda. Misery.
That weakness he was not ready to show you.
There were many nights you’d done the same. Quietly crying alone in your room for him, for his pain. What a horrible life he’d led so far.
You were jolted suddenly from your thoughts by a loud banging on your door. Twice called your name desperately, “Please open up! Or don’t bitch! I don’t care! Toga is hurt! Let her die! You have to help her!”
You flung the door open to see a very distraught Twice, tugging at his mask and biting his nails. He was covered in blood, and frantically grabbed your wrist to lead you downstairs. He tried to explain the situation but between his fear and disjointed speech it was hard to keep up. Once you made it to the bar, you paused for only a moment to take in everything.
Toga was in a bad way, a cut on her forehead slowly oozing and more blood had soaked into her uniform from her belly. She was conscious, but obviously in a lot of pain. Shigaraki also had a few minor injuries, but he seemed content to tend to them himself. What had they gotten themselves into?
You rushed to where Toga was splayed on a sofa. Sweat glistened on her skin and she clutched a knife in one hand. Her breathing was ragged and her blonde hair disheveled.
“Toga, honey, I need you to look at me,” you demanded, prying the knife out of her grip, “I’m going to need you to drink, okay? Can you do that for me, sweetie?”
She nodded weakly; she knew the drill. She was familiar with ingesting blood already, so asking her to drink yours was easy. Without missing a beat, you sliced your wrist just under your palm and pressed it to her lips. She bit down, her sharp canines making their own punctures to allow more blood to flow into her voracious mouth.
She suckled on your wrist for quite a while, and over time you saw her expression relax as her wounds healed. It must have been bad under her uniform, because she’d needed a lot of blood to fully heal her.
Finally, she broke free. A stream of your blood dripped down from her mouth to her chin, and she wiped it away with the sleeve of her sweater. Shigaraki tossed a first aid kit to you from across the room, and you set about disinfecting and treating the wound on your wrist. You hadn’t cut too deep, but if you pulled the skin apart you could see just a bit of fatty tissue.
Dressing the wound with gauze and wrapping it with a bandage after disinfecting it, you realize just how lightheaded you were after the ordeal. Had you eaten enough today? You certainly weren’t anticipating using your quirk so much after so many months of going without. You were out of practice, and the room started spinning.
Twice caught you in his strong arms and shouted something you couldn’t understand. “My room…” you managed to choke out before losing consciousness.
You awoke to screaming. Your head pounded as you listened to another Hana and Dabi argument through the wall. Normally you tried not to eavesdrop but something about this time felt different. Sitting up you looked around, finding a trio of water bottles beside you, and chugging one completely.
“Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?” it was Hana’s shrill voice. “After all I fucking do for you, this is how you treat me?” there was a loud crash, the sound of glass breaking and a soft ‘fuck’ from Dabi.
“Do you realize where you’d be without me? Huh?? You’d be fucking nothing! You’d be alone and scared and living on the streets! You should be more grateful!” Another impact, more glass.
“Do I need to carve it into your ugly fucking skin? Will you understand then? How fucking DARE you disrespect me like that? What use are you, anyway?”
“Don’t-“ Dabi tried to argue but he was spoken over.
“Don’t what? Teach you a fucking lesson? Give me your arm, or I’ll carve it into your face.”
At what point should you intervene? Was it even your business to get involved? Would showing your face in defense of Dabi make things worse for him? You heard a strained noise come from him and you acted without thinking.
Jumping out of bed, you rushed to his door, banging loudly before forcibly shoving it open. Hana was on top of Dabi holding a box cutter, she had his arm pinned beneath her legs as he laid on the bed. His face was turned from you, and you don’t know if you had the heart to see his expression.
Hana, however, was livid. “What the FUCK do you think you’re doing?” She screeched, sliding off the bed and coming towards you. She brandished the knife, which had blood on it already. Your heart sank; what did she do to him?
“I’ve had enough of your shit, Hana,” you say coolly. You were ready to throw down if you had to, so you upped the intimidation factor.
“I’m fucking sorry, who are you again? What business do you have with us?” her tone dripped with a venomous dare as she stood before you, knife raised as a threat.
“Bitch, you better put that fucking knife down before you regret it,” you spat.
“What the fuck did you say?” she didn’t give you the chance to answer before she lunged at you, she was stronger than she looked, and you slammed into the wall outside of the bedroom. The knife bored into your throat, drawing a line of blood to trickle down your neck.
She reared back with her other hand and punched you across the jaw, you instantly felt blood rush to the area, and you knew already it would swell and bruise.
“God you really are fucking crazy, aren’t you?” you said with a laugh, wiping the blood away from your neck with a finger and holding it up to her.
“Do you know anything about me?” you shoved your blood covered finger into her mouth, forcing her to taste it. She choked, gagged and fell back as you activated your quirk. It wasn’t a lot, not nearly enough to cause any real damage, but lacerations opened all along her arms. They were only slightly worse than paper cuts, but the message was received.
She screamed, dropped the knife and glared at you with such intensity you’d almost shivered. Oh, she wanted you dead. She clapped her hands together, which you assumed was the catalyst to her quirk, when Shigaraki’s voice boomed from down the hall.
“Stop whatever the fuck it is you’re doing and get out Hana.” He demanded. It wasn’t the first time he had to force her to leave, and she knew enough about him and his quirk to comply.
“This isn’t over you whore,” she spat at you as she walked away. “Stay away from Dabi if you know what’s good for you.”
You didn’t move, leaning against the wall for support. Your legs were weak, and you were surprised you put up as much of a fight considering how poorly you felt. Once she was out of sight you faltered, dropping to your knees and panting.
Fuck, that was scary. You really thought she was going to cut you open with that knife and bleed you dry. Shigaraki hissed in annoyance and left once he was satisfied you weren’t in any immediate danger.
Your hands were shaking, your heart was still pounding, but you had to check on Dabi. You had to make sure he was okay. You pulled yourself up, stumbling only slightly when you passed the threshold.
Inside he was still laying on the bed, his arms folded over his eyes. There was broken glass between you, and a good amount of blood in various places. Your heart ached at the sight, remembering the words she’d said to him and hearing the glass shatter.
Gingerly you stepped over the glass shards. They were once some decoration or another, it didn’t seem to be in Dabi’s taste but now wasn’t the time to think about that. You were careful not to cut yourself, mindful of your bare feet.
You made your way to him, and he didn’t move to acknowledge your presence. “Dabi…” you started. You wanted to touch him, to make sure he was okay, to comfort him. But you refrained. Things were too raw right now.
You looked him over as best you could. He was only wearing a white shirt and his black pants, the shirt was stained with blood, just like the sheets beneath him. You could tell there was some sort of cut on his forearm, but without getting to properly analyze him you weren’t able to determine the severity of his injuries.
You didn’t want to rattle him, either so you kneeled beside the bed, folding your legs beneath you. “Dabi, you don’t have to talk to me or look at me, I just want to tend to your injuries.” You said softly.
Again, no response. He was feeling too much all at once. He was grateful for your interference; things had escalated so quickly tonight. This had really gotten away from him and didn’t usually end up this extreme, but above all else he felt shame.
Shame he’d let it get this far. Shame for you to see him in such a state. Shame because he knew you heard their argument through the thin wall that separate your rooms. Shame that he didn’t put a stop to it or fight back, knowing he could easily take her down. Shame at the tears that couldn’t flow from his singed and scarred tear ducts.
If he could cry, he would be right now. The blood that trickled down his cheeks was a good enough replacement, he supposed. He prayed you wouldn’t leave yet. He knew he had to respond to you, but he just wasn’t ready. He knew there was so much he had to say, but he just wasn’t ready.
Moments passed like this. His thoughts swirling, you waiting patiently. Even if he didn’t acknowledge you, at least he wasn’t alone. He knew he could rely on you when he was ready.
Finally, he dropped his arms and whispered your name.
“I’m here when you’re ready, but please at least let me look at your wounds.” You assured him.
“Fine.”
He sat up, wincing slightly as the skin on his ribs stretched apart. He let you look over him, peeling off his shirt to really take him in. The staples on his chest, cheeks and left arm were worse for wear. Some of them had popped off entirely, some of them were pulling painfully between his skin, some of them were only hanging on from one side or another. Blood trickled out from random places, including the gash on his forearm. That must have been where she sliced him.
“Let me use my quirk,” you suggested. He peered down at you, meeting your eyes for the first time. He looked ragged.
“It’s fine. Just tell me if this needs stitches.” He gestured to his arm.
“It’s not fine, Dabi. I can help, please let me.”
He considered, “You already used too much on Toga.”
“I’ll be okay. Besides, with my quirk it wont scar, and it’ll take the pain away from your skin until you can fix the staples.”
He scoffed, “What’s another scar?”
“You don’t need another one. Please let me help.” You gently took his hand in yours, and his brow furrowed at the soft touch. He looked like he wanted to cry but didn’t. Couldn’t. He stared at where your palm rested over his and considered your offer.
“Fine,” he repeated. “But stop if it gets too much for you.”
You smiled up at him. “Of course. Get comfortable, I’ll be right back.”
You hurried back into your room to grab a small stiletto knife, you used this one many times to open your veins and you were satisfied with its sharpness. When you returned to Dabi’s room, he’d repositioned himself to lean back against the headboard, arms lying limply in his lap, log legs outstretched. He watched as you carefully navigated the broken glass again.
You considered his position for a moment. The bed was small, he was taking up most of the space. You didn’t want to be rude, especially considering what he’d just went through and that he looked comfortable.
“Can I sit on you?” you asked.
He quirked an eyebrow, and you were relieved to see that familiar smirk tug at the sides of his mouth. “I thought you’d never ask, baby girl.”
You smiled widely, he seemed to be feeling a little better already. You made a show of gingerly crawling over to him, making him grin more, until you landed in his lap, straddling his thighs. You were careful not to press against his hips, that was too much to deal with right now.
“Damn, you are a sight for sore eyes, you know that Doll?”
“I could say the same to you, handsome. Here.” You handed him the knife. You didn’t normally do this, but you felt like he needed to feel in control. That he needed to feel grounded and like he had autonomy, so you were going to let him choose where to cut you.
It was a small gesture, and it probably didn’t mean much to him. But it showed you trusted him and opened the avenue for him to trust you, too. He eyed the knife for a moment before the gears clicked in his head.
“Are you sure, baby girl? I don’t want to hurt you.”
“As if you would,” you teased, trying to keep things lighthearted, “but yes, I’m sure. Wherever you want. I trust you.” You brought his hand to your mouth and placed a kiss on his knuckles, he was still gripping the knife and watching you carefully.
You couldn’t feel his heart beating faster, and he was grateful for that. It wasn’t about Hana. He could take punishment, he’d been abused for so much of his life, a few cuts and bruises weren’t shit, really. But you were being so tender with him, so gentle and loving in the wake of Hana’s assault, that he almost couldn’t take it.
That’s why he wanted to cry. Not because of the abuse. But because of the kindness. And now you were sitting on his lap, wearing those cute silk pajamas from the first night you’d talked on the veranda. A bit of blood had gotten on the delicate satin, and he knew it would be stained forever.
You still looked fucking incredible. Hard nipples obvious beneath the soft fabric, shorts that might as well have been panties hugging your curves perfectly, bare thighs squished around his own to support your weight.
He wanted to touch those thighs, to run his hands up them and see your reaction, but he refrained. Self-control, he reminded himself.
He can admit he felt nervous when you pressed the knife into his palm. He caught your intention immediately, but he was still unsure. Was it okay? One look into your eyes and he understood your resolve. You were putting trust in him, giving him back some autonomy, and he didn’t realize in the moment just how impactful that was.
He considered you for a moment, eyes scanning your body. You felt a bit exposed, but you weren’t going to back out now. You hoped he’d chose somewhere easy, like your arm or your thigh, not somewhere strange like your back or belly. You watched him watching you, he was so intent on your body it made you blush.
He wanted to etch every piece of you into his memory. How many chances would he have to be this close? He had to decide but every part of you was delectable. He’d be content to enjoy your presence and the weight of you in his lap.
He grinned widely when he’d made his choice. Tapping the blade on your chest, just above the swell of your left breast he said, “here?”
You blushed furiously. The area he chose was still above the fabric of your top, so there was nothing indecent, but it was still an incredibly intimate place. You nodded, swallowing thickly. The thought of Dabi’s mouth on such a personal part of you sent heat pooling down your body.
“Tell me if it’s too much, okay, Doll?” he confirmed with you. You nodded, closing your eyes as you felt the cold blade break your skin, then glide easily about an inch over your breast. He watched the blood bubble up, fascinated by how the knife had cut so easily, and how your skin opened so willingly. It was sensual in its own right.
As a drop started to fall, he caught it with his tongue, causing an involuntary groan to escape your lips. His mouth was hot, and his arms had found their way around you, drawing you close and pressing your bodies together. At this proximity you knew the aphrodisiac would take effect in time, and you’d be in quite the predicament.
But first you focused on the feeling of his mouth on your chest, his tongue lapping up the blood that threated to escape down your breast to finally close his lips around the cut and drink. You tangled your hands in his hair, the feeling of him suckling on your chest was too much. It was too erotic, and you knew your panties were already wet.
You pressed yourself against him, earning a low groan that rumbled deep in his chest. God, he loved the feeling of you. It wasn’t even about your body, so much as it was the intimacy of the moment. The closeness, and the tenderness. He was latched onto your chest like a leech, but your arms were wrapped around each other in a warm embrace that melted away all the pain from earlier.
His arms tightened around you, craving to be closer. Craving your warmth and your affection and a touch that wasn’t violent. He was vaguely aware of his wounds growing less painful, the bleeding in his arm had already stopped and the ache between his seams subsided. With the healing of injuries, though, came the wave of arousal.
He let out a strained moan, and you knew that the aphrodisiac effect had taken it’s hold. His mouth became more fevered, his tongue lapping desperately at your skin. The bulge of his cock pressed against your thigh had you arching your back on instinct.
Fuck, you wanted him. You wanted him so bad you almost threw caution to the wind and morals out the window. And he needed you. He needed to know that things didn’t always have to be so hard, so violent and painful. That it was okay to have tenderness, to be cared for and loved.
Loved. That felt like too strong a word, and one you locked away as soon as you thought it. Desire was one thing, but love…that was a whole other emotion you weren’t ready to deal with. Neither was Dabi, and though you both were thinking the same thing, you each decided to file that away for later.
He loosened his grip on you only to bring his hands to sit on your waist, where he rubbed his thumbs in gentle circles under your top. You groaned his name softly, throwing your head back and letting yourself enjoy this moment. You knew it would be over too soon, and you felt shame at your over self-indulgence.
Fuck Hana. This is what he needed.
Somehow, he’d pulled you flush with him without you realizing it, so your core was pressed against his cock. He bucked up to grind into you, both of you humming at the sensation. Even through your clothes, it was electrifying.
“Dabi…your injuries…are they...?” you questioned through ragged breaths.
He pulled mouth away and your flesh pimpled with goosebumps at the absence of his warmth. He looked himself over, examining his arm. The bleeding was stopped completely, the gash on his arm gone. All that was left was for him to re-staple himself back together. But that could wait.
He had a delectable snack right in his lap and he wasn’t about to let her escape. Turquoise blue eyes met yours and he worked his bottom lip between his teeth. He wanted to kiss you. He needed to kiss you. And the look you were giving him said that you craved him just as badly.
This was wrong, and you’d promised him before that you wouldn’t make him a cheater. That you wouldn’t be his side-chick. And you’d meant that. If he wanted to be with you, he would have to make you the priority, Hana be damned. Even though you knew he needed a tender touch, you tore yourself away from him. He didn’t follow you.
“I-I’m sorry,” you stammered. You felt weak at the knees, your blood loss, the fight, and the sexual tension between you and Dabi was too much. “My blood has an aphrodisiac effect, I’m sorry. I can’t help you with that.”
He eyed you carefully. He knew you were right, and he knew this was coming though that didn’t make it suck less. “It’s fine, baby girl.” He purred.
“Are you okay?” You questioned before making your way back to the door.
“I’ll be fine, Doll. You look like you need some rest, though.”
You nodded, “Yeah. Today was a lot.”
“Go on then, I’ll sort myself out.”
You paused at the door, turning to look at him over your shoulder, “And, Dabi, I know this isn’t the time for it, but tomorrow I’ll go into town and get you some more hair dye.”
His blood froze. Were his roots showing through already? Fuck. Fuck.
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hqshine · 4 years
Text
—Realising their feelings for you—
characters: Nishinoya, Tsukishima, suga
genre: angst to fluff?
type: headcanon
extras: wrote this cause i was in my angst feels guys, it’s raining what a mood. Anyways i’ve already seen all the requests and it’s gonna come slowly sorry ^^ Also i’m thinking about creating a tag list, if you’re interested please drop a message!
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The two of you were close friends
both mature yet childish and stubborn at the same time
you’ve always felt differently with suga
sure he was your go to friend for any of your troubles and you’ve shared secrets with him that it almost felt like he was more of a best friend
but your heart always skipped a beat around him
he was always welcome to physical affection
When the team has movie nights, they would invite their unofficial member, you
during movies, suga would hold your hand or hug your waist loosely while you slept on his chest
which always made your heart flutter and you couldn’t even focus on the movie infront of you
but you’ve always known that Suga never felt the same that you did
He’d always tell you about a girl from this other class
She was pretty, smart, mature, reliable, kind
he would say
you’ve always kept quiet about your feelings, even giving him advice when he consulted you about confessing to her
One morning, suga came up to you. “I finally asked her out” he smiled brightly
your smile dropped and your heart raced
we’re you hearing him correctly
yes, you’ve always known that one day he was going to find someone
even her
but you just
didn’t expect it
“She said yes, Y E S y/n. God i’m so happy” suga exclaimed
his smile was the only thing that kept you from breaking down in class
“i’m happy for you Suga, last long” that was the last sentence you said to him
it’s been a few weeks, close to a month now
you knew avoiding him was...immature
but listening to him ramble about her, was gut wrenching
you saw them a few times, walking down the hallway, in her classroom
Suga tried reaching out to you but never did you meet his eyes once in the past few weeks
but recently your phone has been buzzing more than ever
it’s been irritating you and you’ve hardly touched it after suga started dating her
you sighed once more as another notification was sent in, telling you that you missed someone’s call and that they left you a voice mail
you opened up your phone and your eyes widened at all the messages from Suga
you played his most recent recording
“Hey y/n i know we aren’t exactly talking now...well s-she wasn’t exactly honest. I guess to her using me to make her ex jealous was such a great idea. I-i’m sorry that i’m the reason we haven’t been talking much. Ah, i-i also heard from someone about your—your feelings for me and i know this isn’t the best way to tell you, but i’ve been thinking a lot about it. I missed you these past few weeks. A lot. more than you can ever imagine. I missed your smile, your rambles about the lasted mangas you’ve been reading about, your homemade bentos you shared with me, your laugh, everything. You know what this wasn’t a good idea—i bet you won’t even talk to me after this. I’m sorry for not seeing it before, that the girl i really liked. Was you”
Your eyes widened as your phone slipped from your hand
his voice was shaky and it was obvious that he had been crying but, his message was still clear as day
You ran, all the way to his house
“C-come out” you panted into the call
“Y/n—y/n? wha?” suga said as you heard shuffling in the background
he quickly exited, and met with you
Your hair was messy, you were sweating in your hoodie and pajamas pants but you were still gorgeous, how he had never looked at you clearly before he would never understand
Suga immediately wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled into your shoulder
“I-in your voicemail, is it really true, do you really like me?” you asked him softly, your eyes welling up with tears
Suga looked up from your shoulder and and hugged your cheeks with his palms
“I know, i know it hasn’t been long since i dated her. But please give me a chance, please wait a little longer” he pleaded
You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him close
“I will” you whispered
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“Kiyoko-senpai, you’re so gorgeous as usual” Nishinoya exclaimed along with Tanaka, both following her around like a puppy
You bit your lip, looking down at your sketchbook instead to distract yourself from the pain
Harbouring feelings for the second year libero hasn’t been easy
Constantly hearing him compliment other girls, comparing yourself, new insecurities
you didn’t understand why you liked him to be very honest
but you were also lying to yourself
His energy, his comfortable vibe, his smile and his eyes made you fall head over heels with Nishinoya
“Y/n-chan, what’re you drawing today?” he shouted, coming up to you
“i’m not sure yet Noya-kun” The two of you were best friends since you two were young
He defended you against middle school bullies and the two of you have been inseparable ever since
You realised your feelings for him after coming into High school
which was when his crush for your senpai began
You had nothing against Kiyoko-senpai, she actually gave you some advice and helped you several times with your homework
but, it wasn’t nice hearing him compliment her, as selfish as it sounded, you wanted on of his compliments to be directed to you
After training, You and Nishinoya walked back home together since the two of you lived near each other
“Yuu?” you asked him as he hummed in reply
Your heart pounded, “c-can i tell you something”
it was now or never you thought.
He nodded and focused on what you were going to say, “I liked you since we entered high school”
Nishinoya’s eyes widened and he stopped in his tracks
you looked down, twiddling with your fingers
“i know you like Kiyoko-senpai, but it was something i just had to tell you because i didn’t want to risk our friendship.” you flashed a fake smile to him
“don’t worry, i never expected you to return my feelings. this won’t change anything, i promise. So, you can still continue to like senpai” you mumbled, feeling the tears pooling at your eyes
The whole time, Nishinoya didn’t say anything
his mouth was agape but he just couldn’t find the right words
you sighed, and walked away not before saying, “Have a nice holiday noya-kun” flashing him a fake smile
he could see your tears and he noticed your smile that was different
Nishinoya stood there, thinking about what you just said.
he closed his eyes and the memory of your tear stained face filled him with guilt
he knew he couldn’t return your feelings but, why did he feel so sad when you said “nothing is going to change”
The break wasn’t very, enjoyable
you worked different part time jobs while Nishinoya attended trainings
the amount of times he let the ball from the opposite team his the ground was uncountable
he could barely focus and he just stared as the ball hit the ground for the tenth time
everyone groaned, noticing how their libero wasn’t paying attention
he had even stopped giving out compliments to the beautiful manager during that time
the only thing on his mind was you
training ended early that day, as they wrapped up and Nishinoya apologised for not doing well
you blew out a breath of smoke as you stared at the christmas tree infront of you
It was huge and reminded you of the joyous occasion that was arriving
Usually, you and Nishinoya would be playing at the park, having snowball fights, making angels and snowmans, and falling sick together later on
You haven’t spoken to him since that day, because of your busy schedule and his trainings
You hid your hands in your pocket, noticing how cold it was
“Y/n” a familiar voice called out to you
You turned around to widen your eyes at the sight of Nishinoya slightly panting and in his training clothes
“N-noya? What’re you doing here, aren’t you cold?” he shook his head
taking out his gloves and reaching for your hand
“You always forget your gloves don’t you, ever since middle school” he slightly laughed at the memories
“i don’t like them, they aren’t comfy” you pouted and looked away
Nishinoya held your hands, “Y/n” you looked back at him
“it hasn’t been the same. Now everyday has been boring, distracting because i keep thinking about you.” he said
“i know i’ve always expressed my ‘love’ for Kiyoko-senpai, but the person that i really love is you” your eyes widen yet again. You shook your head
“No Noya, she’s perfect, good grades, the best looks, reliable, mature, kind? Why would you like me when you have her” you said sadly
“Kind, loyal, fierce, immature, stubborn, adorable, caring, beautiful, intelligent” he began listing
“Y/n, i love you and not because you’re perfect, you have qualities that make you, you. Qualities that i love about you. Most importantly, you’re you. The girl i had a crush on since middle school, since you offered me that star wars bandage after i defended you. I’m sorry for not realising it sooner, but please, let me make it up to you” Nishinoya said
his showed his desperation and his voice expressed his love for you
“of course, and i love you too yuu”
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You were always by his side
you’d greet him good morning at the lockers and even sent him home
Tsukishima hated it
he found you annoying
like a leech he can’t get rid of no matter what
you didn’t know how exactly did you fall deeply for the cold beanpole but you certainly liked him a lot
from his honey blonde hair, his taste in music, his intelligence, sassy comments and precious rare smiles
you’ve always tried to get him to notice you, making him bentos, reaching school early to greet him and even following him home after his trainings
one day
“Tsukki, i like you, would you please go out with me?” you confessed to him. Your blush could not get any redder as you bowed
Tsukishima scoffed
“with you? seriously?” your hopes fell as you stood up but looked away
“i would rather date the king rather than you. You’re annoying and if i could get rid of you, i would’ve done it earlier” he spit out
each word stabbing you deep in the heart
he turned around and left
you glanced at the macarons you made for him and the letter that you had written
they were all dinosaur themed, hoping to gain more of his attention
You were crying by then
he really thought you were nothing but someone annoying
From that day on, you hardly spoke to him
Everyday tsukishima would turn up expecting to see your face again, but you were no where to be found
in the beginning, he was satisfied, realising he was able to chase you away. But slowly, he realised how disappointed he felt when he didn’t hear you greeting him and the sight of your adorable smile adorning your face
he realised he finally chased you away
now he walks home alone, whenever he turns around unconsciously you weren’t there, he could only feel your presence in his memories
“Tsukki wait for me!”
“Good morning Tsukki, i made you some cookies today”
Tsukishima sighed as he packed up his books, he was too lazy to buy his food at the cafeteria and you didn’t prepare anything for him so he could only starve till school was over
“Tsukki i heard some boy asked Y/n out” this gained Tsukishima’s attention as Yamaguchi returned from the vending machine with drinks
“i was buying the drinks when i overheard them” yamaguchi said
tsukishima didn’t do anything except for opening his drink
“tsukki you should talk to Y/n” yamaguchi advised. “She hasn’t been herself lately and the whole class feels it too”
Tsukishima took a sip of his drink
“Tsukki, are you okay with some other guy taking care of her?” Yamaguchi questioned him
that was what made tsukishima put down his drink
jealousy was all he felt
he didn’t like the thought of someone else making you smile, making you laugh. What if you left forever? for another guy?
Tsukishima immediately left to find you and dragged you away from the guy
“what are yo-?” you exclaimed as tsukishima slammed you against the lockers and placing his hand next to the locker beside you
“i take it back” he said
You were confused, “i missed you, i realised my true feelings when i didn’t have you. I need you, please give me a chance. i like you Y/n” he says
you smiled as you hesitantly wrapped your arms around him
“One chance”
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thora-jane · 3 years
Text
Twin-Way Mirror (pt vi)
(a/n): Hey everyone. My mental health's getting a little bit better. These past few weeks I've had some depression/anxiety episodes but I think I might be on the better end of it now? I will say that the stories I post may be more spread out over time (I had a lot of this already written before I made the tumblr account, and I haven't had the time/energy to write more of the story. So like...idk thank you for your patience and understanding? anyway, I hope you enjoy this :)
Summary: Thanks to the Weasleys, you start to recover from the attack at the world cup
Word Count: 2,229
Warnings: mentions of blood and injuries, reader has a bit of a ptsd attack, also things get a little bit spicy but nothing nsfw.
TAGS!: @aliiiyyaaah @superblyspeedydragon @bamboozledflamplant
***
Someone was moving you. Everything was spinning. Mudblood. Mood. Blood. Mud and blood filled your mouth, swirling with bile and spit. Spit. Something smelled terrible, you smelled terrible. Reeking.
You felt a hand on your cheek. The pain stabbed across your face like a knife.
You bolted upright.
And screamed.
“Hey, hey hey hey it’s alright,” you heard George’s (or was it Fred’s?) voice through your ragged and panicked breaths, his hand placed gently on your back, “(y/n), we’re safe now, we’ve made it home.”
You finally looked around, you were on the couch in the burrow’s living room.
“Home?” You asked. You looked up, George was rubbing your back and Fred was sitting on the arm of the seat, eyes flitting back and forth between looking at you and down at his hands with what appeared to be shame. You looked back at the rest of the room, where the others had managed to find room standing and watching you, Harry and Ron stone-faced, Ginny with her jaw clenched, Hermione appeared to be on the brink of tears, Mr. Weasley looked awfully serious, and Mrs. Weasely was holding her muddied and bloodied hand to her chest, a damp rag in the hand at her side and fear on her face.
You felt your face gingerly, most of the caked on mud and blood had been smudged off, except for the grime around the large bruised and scarred lump on your face.
“Yeah, home,” George nodded again with a smile, “How are you feeling?”
You held your head in your hands, “Who was that?” You felt your eyes well up as you sat up more and looked down at the rest of your body, you were still covered in mud, and there appeared to be a boot print right in the middle of your shirt.
“Death Eaters,” Harry piped up from the back, “Voldemort’s followers. They stormed the campgrounds and-” He stopped, looking at you, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have…” His voice trailed off, and it took you a second to realize you were crying, the salty tears stinging the wound on your face.
“Oh it’s alright Harry,” you interrupted yourself with a shaky breath, “I don’t mind, keep talking-”
But Mrs. Weasley interrupted you, “Alright everyone, I think it’s best we give her some space. I’ll come back in a bit to help clean you up more, sweetie. Get some rest.”
The others filed out of the room quietly, but Fred and Geroge stayed beside you in silence, after a moment you sighed and bit back a smile. “I don’t suppose I look any better than either of you now, eh?” You chuckled, but it came out more like a twisted sob. George’s arm wrapped around your shoulder as he pulled you into a gentle sideways hug, “I wouldn’t say that. Why, look at Freddy over there, you could hardly believe we shared the same womb! He’s hideous!” He chuckled softly, squeezing your shoulder. You let out a wince at the pressure and he frowned, turning to you, “you’re in pretty bad shape, (y/n), but I doubt it will last. Is there anything we could do to help?
You looked back down at your crusted and soiled shirt, “A change of clothes would be helpful. And cleaning up doesn’t sound like the worst idea either.” you smiled, or at least offered what you could manage of a smile without hurting your face, “I’ll go get my clothes-” You started trying to get off the couch with a long and pained groan. Everything hurt, your stomach, your legs, your hand. And Merlin, you could barely move your wrist without tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.
George seemed to catch on, and he carefully eased you back onto the couch, “I’ll go get you a change of clothes. Stay here, alright?” he stroked the back of your head for a moment before getting up and leaving.
You and Fred sat in silence for a moment before nuding him with your foot, “Oi, I don’t think I’ve seen you this quiet since...well, I can’t remember.”
“(y/n)...I’m so sorry this happened.” He said, looking up at you hesitantly.
“Hey, it’s alright. We’re both here now, yeah?” you shifted in your spot on the couch, leaning forward as you tried to maintain eye contact, but he only looked away again.
“No, no (y/n) it’s not alright. I shouldn’t have let you out of my reach. I shouldn’t have let the crowd separate us, I should have forced my way back sooner-” his voice was dead serious, something that you hadn’t thought was possible before now.
“I don’t want you blaming yourself for this,” your voice was a little uneasy, you could feel it as you tried to keep your breathing steady, “Because I’m fine now. We’re home, you heard your brother-”
“No, but (y/n) you’re not fine!” he snapped, standing up and gesturing to your body in one big sweep of his arm, “They were going to kill you! And whose fault would that have been? It wouldn’t have been yours I can tell you that!”
“Freddie,” George’s voice was stern as he returned to the room, a change of clothes in hand, “Go get some things to clean up. What’s done is done and we can only start moving forward. I don’t think either of you are in a state to start pointing fingers,” He walked towards you on the couch as Fred went off to the kitchen, his hands balled into fists.
George knelt down beside you, brushing the hair from your forehead and dabbing at your lingering tears with the edge of his sleeve. “How are you feeling?” he asked, holding his hand under your chin carefully and examining your face.
“A bit banged up, surprisingly,” you quipped. You paused, looking down at the clothes in his hand, “So...should I change?” You looked back up at him, a bit embarrassed by your current lack of mobility.
“Oh! Yeah,” he agreed with a bit of a start, “You can’t quite be up and about right now, huh?” He glanced around the room before snatching the blanket off the back of the couch and holding it up in front of him as a curtain between you two, “I swear on Fred’s life I’m not going to move this until you say you’re done, and I will scream bloody murder if anyone walks in,” He delcared in what you assumed was a mock-stoic voice from the other side of the blanket.
You began to peel off your muddied pants and slide your sore legs into the new pair. It wasn’t until after you had them on that you realized how this unfamiliar stripey pair fit quite loose, “These aren’t mine?” you mumbled to yourself, and from the other side of the blanket you could hear George clear his throat.
“I uh...couldn’t figure out how to open your trunk so I..grabbed a pair of my pajamas. I promise they’re clean. I can get you yours later it was just...short notice and I didn’t want to be a bother-”
“It’s alright,” you assured him as you started to lift your shirt over your head, “At least they're clean- OW!” you felt a screaming pain stab it’s way through your wrist after you had managed to get one arm out of your sleeve.
“Are you ok?” His voice was nervous, and you saw the blanket shift beside your head-
“Oi!” You almost shouted, “Watch the blanket!”
“Sorry! Sorry,” you heard him mumble as the blanket lifted up a little bit, “I guess we’ll call it even from this morning.”
You had managed to carefully wrangle your way out of your shirt and pull one of the sleeves of George’s shirt before it dawned on you, “Oh Merlin, did you see me? Just now?” Your stomach twisted as you shrugged on the second sleeve and looked at the open front of the shirt, “Damn buttons.”
“If it’s any comfort, I only saw your shoulder. And I looked away as soon as I saw-” He stammered out nervously, as you gave the buttons down your front a calculated stare.
“Just...never bring this up again, yeah?” You muttered mostly to yourself before your first attempt at buttoning up your shirt. But your try was unsuccessful, pain twisting the muscles and bone in your wrist as your right hand went to try and help the button through the hole. You let out a faint gasp of pain, and from the other side of the blanket you heard George shift his stance awkwardly.
“Do you need any help?” he piped up from his side.
You paused, sighing as you carefully moved the shirt to cover your front without buttoning it, “If I must. But if you try to pull something then so help me Godric the second I get my wand back you’re dead.” He let the blanket fall to the floor and his hands flew up to his face, squinting through his fingers. It was clear he was trying to lighten the mood as he perched himself on the edge of the couch. You chuckled at his efforts and reached for one of his hands with your good one, placing his fingertips on the buttons of his shirt, “You don’t have to do it with your eyes closed, dimwit.”
George smirked, opening his eyes slightly and making it clear he was staring directly at the buttons he was fastening, “Y’know, I don’t usually do this for folks,” he smiled looking back up at you with a dramatic wink. His eyes stayed latched to yours as he worked his way up the trail of buttons, making a point to not stare at your chest.
“Oh? This isn’t a regular occurrence between you and your roommates? You don’t sit in a circle helping each other tie your ties each morning? You don’t fix Fred’s hair and make sure Lee’s robes are nice and straight?”
George laughed, “Keeping Lee’s robes straight is Fred’s job.”
“Well someone ought to tell him he’s not doing a very good job of it, Lee’s robes wouldn’t stay smooth unless he used a charm,” you sighed, a weak smile lingering on your face.
“Oh! That reminds me,” George reached into his pocket and pulled out your wand, “managed to get it out without a scratch!” He tucked it into your messed-up hair and smiled, “Good as new!” His hand lingered on the side of your face, carefully touching the area around the swollen and bruised gash for just a moment, “You don’t look that bad, really. A little roughed up but give it some soap, water, magic, and time, you’ll be back to your wonderfully-faced self,” his voice was encouraging, but your thoughts had drifted off to elsewhere.
“Oh my god, you took on a Death Eater.” You blurted out, eyes widening, “Are you ok? Did he get you at all? Are you alright?” Your hand reached for his face, there was a scratch just below his cheek bone but other than that and a few smudges of mud he appeared fine,
“I’m alright, (y/n), really,” he patted your hand.
“Oi, I got you out of there too, y’know.” Fred interrupted from the doorway, “Where’s the worry for me?”
“Oh my god, Fred!” Your voice was startled as you scrambled off the couch and stumbled across the floor over to him. He had just barely managed to set down the bowl of water and sponge before you practically collapsed in his arms, “are you alright? What on earth were you two thinking? Running into danger like that? You could have gotten yourselves killed!” You winced at the pain pulsing through your body, but you only hugged Fred tighter. After a second you let out a muffled sob into his chest and you could feel his arms wrap around you, patting your back.
“But it’s alright,” you heard him whisper, “You said it yourself, we’re home,” He placed a kiss on the top of your head, and you could feel another body hug you from behind.
“We’re here, (y/n). Now c’mon, it’s late and you should get some sleep,” You felt George lean down and kiss your cheek before helping you shuffle back to the couch and wipe the last bit of mud from your face.
***
You woke up the next morning feeling sore, but minimal agony in comparison to the night before. As you opened your eyes, you realized you were face-to-chest with one of the twins. You figured the two of you had slept on the couch the night before. As you poked your head out from behind his shoulder, you saw the other twin asleep in the chair. Neither of the boys had changed their clothes from yesterday, and you looked down to see the large gold “G” against a green sweater, with its sleeves wrapped around your waist, pulling you close.
“Mmm, (y/n), are you up?” George murmured, his eyes not opening.
You smiled softly at his warm embrace, “No George, go back to sleep,” you whispered, laying down again with your head against his shoulder.
“Of course, sweetheart,” he nodded, barely awake as he pulled you closer and nuzzled his face into your hair with a sleepy sigh.
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thekingslover · 3 years
Text
Jetski For Sale (Lokius fic)
He stops riding the jetski.
He keeps it on the small trailer at the end of his driveway beside his modest split-level home and covers it with a blue tarp.
Every morning, in his brown button-up pajamas and a bathrobe, he walks to the end of the driveway and collects the morning paper. He’s careful to hold his coffee mug steady as he leans down, but he always manages to spill a drop or two. His slippers are covered in tiny coffee spots.
He tucks the newspaper under his arm and turns back toward his house. He left the television on; through the window, the screen flashes with the bright white letters, Breaking News! Two houses down, his neighbor is already out mowing the lawn. Further away, a dog barks.
Though he lives alone, it’s a perfect life. Everything’s simple. His mortgage is affordable. His brown sedan is paid off. And the jetski...
He doesn’t remember buying it. He always wanted one, dreamed of it. He had a savings set aside for someday. Yet... his savings is still there, and he still has this jetski.
He looks at it now, at the way it bulges under the tarp. A shame to leave it like that. He should take it out again. But the last time he did that...
Shaking his head, he walks back to the house. He drinks his coffee and reads his newspaper. He goes to work, comes home, goes to sleep, and does it all again the next day.
“Something’s different about you,” his sister says on the phone, their weekly call. “You sound different.”
“Same old me.” He’s good at keeping back his feelings and pushing forward the cheer.
She knows, though. Older sisters always seem to. “Are you sure you haven’t been seeing anyone lately?”
This sends him laughing. “A secret boyfriend? Come on, you have quite an imagination on you.”
“Laugh all you want,” she says, stern. She’s not backing down, though her voice does soften as she adds, “It’s only that you... Well, you sound... heartbroken.”
“That’s...” He should deny it. He hasn’t dated anyone in a good long while, but, well, now that she mentions it... He’s had his heart broken before, long ago, and it felt a little something like this. Like something crucial is suddenly missing. Like you spent so much time learning someone and adapting to them, shaping whole parts of your life around them, and then they are just... gone.
There’s a person-sized hole in his life now, but he can’t quite remember their shape.
No, that can’t be.
“That’s crazy,” he says, thinking, maybe I’m crazy.
“Why don’t you come visit us for a while?” she says. “The kids would love to see you.”
“Yeah,” he says, shaky. “Yeah, maybe that’s a good idea. Tell them I love them. Love you too.” Then he hangs up.
*
That night, he lays on his back in bed and stares at the ceiling, afraid to look to his right. He used to sleep sprawled across the entire width of the bed, a true bachelor enjoying his bachelorhood. When did he start picking one side?
He turns over, facing away from the barren expanse of the rest of the mattress, but the bookshelf offers little comfort. Most of his books are about history, biographies on interesting characters from the past. There’s a couple of jetski magazines wedged in, too. But what catches his eye... He remembers buying it, knows he did, the morning after watching a documentary on the perception of time and space. The documentarian had written a book. The Mobius Strip.
Frowning, he doesn’t find any sleep that night, no matter how many long minutes he closes his eyes, or how many sheep he tries to count in his head.
Mobius.
It’s a mathematical theory. Not a name. But it wedges between his ribs and stays buried behind them.
He’s not even a maths guy! But he can’t shake it. It feels heavy, too important.
He tosses and turns. He reaches out to the other side of the bed, realizes its empty, and snaps upright, dread overtaking him for one sharp moment before he remembers that its supposed to be empty.
This is normal. This is his perfect little life.
He flops back into bed and runs a hand down his face. Maybe he should go visit his sister, before he fully loses his mind.
*
His hands shake the next morning when he walks out to get the newspaper at the end of the driveway. Half his coffee spills when he leans to pick it up, but its fine. Maybe he should give up coffee entirely. Maybe too much caffeine is his problem.
He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him.
Turning towards the house, he spots the jetski, there under the blue tarp. The mysterious jetski that he doesn’t remember buying. The one, when he’s out on it, he sits too far forward, like he’s making space for someone behind him. But there’s no one there. There’s never anyone there.
The jetski, he decides, was the start of his problems. Maybe if he... If he...
Storming back into the house, he leaves what’s left of his coffee in the sink and the newspaper forgotten on the counter, and hurries into the office. He rips off a long sheet of dot matrix printer paper. Biting off the cap of his pen, he scribbles on it in large block letters, all caps, FOR SALE.
Back in the driveway, he removes the chocks from behind the wheels of the trailer, and flips off the tarp. He wheels the trailer and the jetski to the end of the driveway, right up against the road.
He must look like a mad man, out there in his brown button-up pajamas and coffee-stained slippers. The neighbor’s mowing the lawn. The dog’s barking further away. Everything’s perfect in this perfect little neighborhood, this perfect little life. But he feels like he is going insane.
He slaps the for sale sign on the front of the jetski, and starts back for the house. The sooner that thing is out of his life... Maybe... Maybe things would go back to normal.
His heart pangs in a way he doesn’t understand. Heartache. So much heartache. Why?
Does he even want normal?
But if not that, then what? What is he missing?
He’s at his front door, hand on the doorknob, when someone politely coughs behind him. He pauses a moment, there’s no way someone is there... But when he glances over his shoulder - yeah. Someone’s behind him, only a few feet away.
Not just someone. The most gorgeous person he has ever seen, wearing a sleek black suit and a pair of sunglasses. Long dark hair is slicked back and pushed behind their ears.
He should probably feel self-conscious, standing there in his brown pajamas in front of this god of a person - probably a model - but he doesn’t. Strangely, he feels more at ease now than he has in weeks. His whole body relaxes like he finally exhaled a held breath.
But that doesn’t make sense. They’ve never met. He would remember.
He would never forget a face like that.
“Hello,” the person says, and the word tremors slightly.
“Hello.” It tremors when he says it too.
There’s no car on the road. No bicycle on the sidewalk. However this person got here, it’s like they dropped down from the sky.
The person clears their throat. “You’re selling the jetski?”
“You...” He blinks. He knew jetskis were popular - hell, they are the best - but he hadn’t expected an offer before he even got his pants on. “Yeah. You interested?”
“Yes, I...” They drop their head a moment, taking their time to think. When they lift their head again, their shoulders lift too, like they are preparing for a battle.
He supposes negotiations can be seen as a battle, but he can’t bring himself to match the person’s pose. He’s ready to give up the jetski for free at this point. Whatever gets it gone.
The person asks, “What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing’s wrong with it. It runs like a dream.”
“Then why get rid of it?”
His heart hurts, so he laughs through the pain. It’s silly, but he can’t help feel his sister was right. This person wouldn’t know either way, so he finds himself telling them, “I’m heartbroken.”
The person goes very still. Their mouth opens and they take in a shaky, noisy breath. When they say, “What?” the word is bone dry and crumbling.
“It’s something we did together... I think.” He’s making it up, but it feels right. So he keeps talking. “And now. Well. It kinda reminds me of... I’m pretty sure I forgot a lot of things, but I can’t forget that. There’s supposed to be someone else. And I can’t... I can’t...”
He’s not making any sense, but the person is hanging on every single word.
“Anyway,” he says. “I’ll let it go cheap. Too many memories... or... I don’t know, feelings?” He sighs. “Just make me an offer, okay? I have to get ready for work.”
He wants nothing more than to keep this beautiful person on his doorstep, but... well, life isn’t always about getting what you want. This person wants a jetski, he has one. A transaction will occur, and this person will move forward like he never existed.
He’ll be left behind again.
Again?
Now, he’s the one to stand a little straighter. “Do you ever get deja vu?”
“Deja vu?”
“You know, where you feel like you’ve lived an exact moment already, once before. I’ve been reading this book about mobius strips and...” There’s that pang again, in his chest. A subtle ache that is swelling. He wants to ignore it, like he always has, but he’s finding he can’t really anymore. “Don’t you think that’d be a cool name? Mobius. Mobius M. Mobius.” He laughs, and it hurts. It hurts.
The person doesn’t laugh. Instead, they take a small step back. “I shouldn’t have come here.”
His laughter dies quickly. It wasn’t real anyway. “You don’t want the jetski?”
“I do,” the person says with naked longing. “More than anything.”
“Then its yours.” He shrugs. “You know, it kinda feels like it was already yours? Like, maybe its just been waiting around for you to show up and claim it.”
The person shakes their head. “It’s better off without me. It finally has a chance to... to... live the way you - it deserves...”
“I mean, that’s a nice thought. But in practice... wouldn’t it be better for jetskis to decide for themselves the kind of lives they want? Whose to say that their life before was all that great? Because let me tell you, this perfect little normal life I’m living? Kinda sucks.” He doesn’t really understand what he’s saying, but the words still fall out of him, like ripping a scab off an old wound and all the blood starts running again.
The person takes another step back, but this time, he follows, taking a step forward. Somehow, it feels crucial that he not let this person leave him behind again.
There, another again. What is he not remembering?
“There’s something terribly wrong with all this,” he says. “I’m forgetting something important, but whatever it is - whoever - I don’t think I can be happy without them. Not really. Not in any way that matters.”
“Mobius...” the person says, soft, under their breath. Stronger, “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
And the dam breaks.
“I know exactly what I’m saying, Loki.” The name, that name. How could he forget that name?
The person - Loki - exhales again, watery this time.
“Maybe if we never met, this would be enough. Maybe it was once. But not anymore. Never again. Not since you. And not even your little mind hocus pocus could change that.”
Mobius takes another step forward. This time, Loki does not move back. They stay just as they are and let Mobius close the distance. Mobius lifts his hands to Loki’s face and slowly removes those sunglasses. Loki’s eyes have always been the most expressive - the easiest to read. No wonder they would try to hide them. Because now they shine with sorrow and regret and... love. So much love.
And that, Mobius knows, is exactly what he’s been looking for when he reaches out to the empty space beside him on the bed. When he sits in his kitchen and stares at the pulled-out chair across the table. When he rides his jetski and turns, ready to laugh with the missing person behind him.
“I’m not angry,” Mobius says, tossing the sunglasses aside. He takes one of Loki’s hands in his. Loki grips hard onto his fingers. “I understand why you did it. It’s kind of flattering really, to know you’d give up your own happiness to try to give me mine. But there was a very big problem with this latest Loki scheme.”
“What’s that?” Loki asks in a whisper.
Mobius gives them a smile. The first real one since they parted. “You’re unforgettable.”
Loki laughs once, a burst, like they’ve been holding something in and now its escaping. The hard lines of their face smooth out. And they look less like a frightened, broken shadow and more like themselves, god of mischief, with a small but growing smirk. “Of course. I suppose I should have considered that.”
“Big flaw. Ruined the whole thing, to be honest.”
Loki leans closer. “I hate to admit to fault, but I fear there was a second issue that I had not considered.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
“Your absolute stubbornness.”
“Stubborn? Me? You should look in the mirror, pal.”
Loki closes their eyes a moment. Mobius studies the planes of their perfect face, and wonders how, in all the infinite timelines, he ever forgot it. 
“Loki,” Mobius says. “Do me a favor, though, huh? Don’t do this again. I... uh, well. It wasn’t the most fun for me.”
“Me, either.” Loki presses their forehead to Mobius’s. “I regretted every moment, but I... The TVA stole you from your life. I wanted to -”
“I know, I get it. I’m not mad. But communication is key to a relationship, yeah? So maybe next time you want to do a grand gesture of love for me, we should talk about it first?”
Loki leans back. They blink. But it’s not the love that trips them up, it’s, “Relationship?”
Mobius runs his hands along Loki’s arms, up to the shoulders and back down to the elbows. “Yeah. I mean, we’re partners, right?”
“Partners.” Loki doesn’t say the word with disgust, more... intrigue.
“Boyfriends?” Mobius tries.
“Boyfriends.” Loki frowns at that one.
“Lovers?”
Loki’s eyes are bright and full of wonder. How they could look at Mobius, someone so normal, like that... well. Loki makes Mobius feel like a god himself, no wonder he couldn’t go back to his old life.
“Lovers,” Loki says and kisses Mobius. Mobius smiles against their lips. Lovers, it is, then.
Kiss turns to kisses, and they linger. It’s right, so right that it further amplifies how wrong everything else was before. Mobius belongs here. Right here. With Loki. Forever, if possible.
When they break, they both laugh, and it’s light and true this time, for both of them.
“Hey, Loki,” Mobius says. “Want to buy a jetski?”
Loki pulls an annoyed face, but its all an act - Mobius sees right through it, and Loki’s not trying that hard to hide it. “I believe I’m the one who acquired that jetski for you. You have no right to sell it.”
“It was a gift,” Mobius says.
“It remains a gift. One I insist you keep.”
“Alright, alright,” Mobius laughs and Loki kisses him at the corner of his smile. “But only if you promise to keep me.”
“Oh, dear Mobius.” Loki brings their mouth to Mobius’s ear. “I hope you appreciated this display of selflessness, because I will not be repeating it.”
“Good.”
“I am a selfish god.”
“Uh, huh.”
Loki’s arms grip tightly around Mobius’s waist. “And from here to eternity, I will be keeping what’s mine.”
The last remaining knots in Mobius’s chest untangle. “And the jetski.”
“And the jetski,” Loki says and kisses him again.
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cades-outsider · 3 years
Text
Older Johnny Lawrence X Reader
Warnings: TW: Toxic ex
Bloody Rose
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  "I just don't understand why i can't go out with my friends" You mumble, awaiting for the seat to swallow you whole.
  "I already told you, you're mine and what's mine i own" Your boyfriend grits his teeth, as his hands grip the steering wheel.
  "You don't own me" You say confidently as he pulls up to one of the minimarts in reseda.
  He aggressively slams one hand on the steering wheel "damnit! I said your mine and I forbid you of going out" he yells.
  "Whatever! You never let me do anything!" You yell angrily as you get out of the car, slamming the door.
  Let's be real, the real reason he was so jealous, possessive, and angry was because he was insecure as he's already said previous times before, but you couldn't help but think that it was all just a fun game to him.
  He steps out of the car and repeats your steps previously of slamming the door and walking forward to you puffing out his chest. "I don't want you cheating on me! What do you not understand?! If you listened to me we wouldn't have this problem" He groans.
  You go to walk into the mini mart only to be pulled back by your boyfriends hand gripping your waist tightly.
  You turn around and slap him as a reflex causing his face turn right with the impact as his neck cracked a little.
  Just then someone gets out of their car and slams the door "hey, what do you think you're doing man?" The mysterious man questions as he walks closer to the situation.
  He has golden blonde locks, blue piercing eyes, and a grey shirt with a black and white checked flannel. He still doesn't let go of your hand "and who are you?" He questions trying to look big and bad.
  "That's my sister and I don't appreciate you touching her like that" The man states.
  "Yeah right" Your boyfriend scoffs.
  The last thing that could be heard was a fist coming in contact with his face, which you could have swore you heard a crack.
  The guy grabs your hand and rushes you behind the building as your boyfriend lays on the cement groaning in pain.
  "We're over a*shole!" You yell as he stumbles up and rushes into his car scurrying off.
  "Thanks for that" You say sweetly.
  "It's no problem, I'm Johnny" He holds out his hand for you to take to which you do.
  "I'm Y/n" You greet.
  Over the course of a couple weeks you and Johnny had kept in contact through messaging. He had learnt some things about you while you learned about his karate dojo, his students, and pretty much his life.
  It was nice, Johnny was a great person to talk to. You even felt yourself staring to fall for him, it was weird seeing as you just got out of a toxic relationship but something good came out of it and it was Johnny.
  You were actually having a conversation with Johnny over text once he asks a random question out of the blew, which read; "hypothetical question...what would you say if I asked you to swing by the dojo for a couple of lessons? Free of charge of course" he questions.
  You raise both of your eye brows and wait a minute before reply, finally you decide on sending a simple message, which read; "I'd love to! I could definitely use a few pointers if that's alright?"
Finishing up the conversation you had agreed to stop by his karate dojo named cobra Kai for a couple lessons, you didn't quite have an idea of what to wear so you just picked some workout clothes so they wouldn't get in the way of 'training'.
You only lived a couple blocks away from the reseda strip mall, so you were there in less than five minutes.
The sound of the bell goes off once you enter the dojo, "welcome to cobra k-" Johnny starts, walking out of his office until he sees it was you.
He smiles taking the towel he had in his hand and throwing it on the dummy's head "Hey, Y/n it's nice to see you here" he comments.
You let out a breathy laugh "it's nice to be here... Sensei" You tease playfully, causing him to let out a chuckle.
"Alright so, we can start whenever you'd like" He gestures to the mats.
"Are you free now?" You question, wanting to make sure.
He turns to look at the clock on the wall "oh yeah, yeah class doesn't start for another 2 hours or so" Johnny reply's.
You slip your shoes off and Johnny brings you over to the mat, "that gi looks great on you" You playfully smirk.
He looks down "I'm impressed" he states referring to you knowing it's a gi and not 'pajamas'.
"Alright so, first things first we need to get you into the stance" he says walking behind you.
He hovers over your left arm "is this alright?" He questions before continuing, you nod.
He continues on his mission and places your body into the correct stance, "alright now-" Johnny leads you over to the dummy.
"Punch this thing as hard as you can" He puts his hands on his hips.
You go to punch but he stops you "easy there, punch like this and you'll break your thumb-" He grabs your hand and moves your thumb gently so it's overlying your other fingers "-punch like this... you'll break a nose" he smiles.
Though he doesn't let go of your hands for a moment, seeing as you had both got lost in each others eyes. Johnny's eyes were so piercing, you could see all the emotions behind his eyes... and you know what? He didn't hide it.
You snap into reality and look down bashfully "thank you" you reply.
"Oh uhm- yeah no problem" he clears his throat "-well go on" he gestures to the dummy.
You strike one punch then look at Johnny for confrontation, he nods his head 'yes' so you continue throwing punches until he moves you over to the next course.
"Alright so, if someone tries punching you what do you do?" He questions.
"Block the punch" You reply as if it was common sense.
"Yes correct, what do you do next?" Johnny questions once again.
"You know I haven't got that far yet" You say sarcastically causing Johnny to let out a little laugh.
He walks over to you and puts out his hand, grabbing yours he forms it into a ball and puts his hand over yours. "When rolls are reversed you want to twist the enemy's hand-" he gently twists your hand, but not enough to hurt you "-and cross their arm over their neck and pull them closer to your body" he instructs, pressing your back up against his front.
"Next you want to keep a firm grip on their hand and pull as hard as you can on their neck-" he gently puts a grip on your neck with your own arm "-this will make your enemy pass out once you hold it long enough" he says.
He lets you go and you turn to face him "now try it on me" he says as he gets into his stance.
"What I'm n-" you don't even get to say anything until he lets a punch out that goes to your face, with fast reflexes you grab ahold to his hand, twist it and cross it over his neck, bringing his body closer to yours.
"That's it!" He encourages as you go to let him up.
"Wow that happened so fast.." you let out a breath, trying to calm down your beating heart.
"It usually does, but you did good now that can work for anything even if they haven't tried to punch you but if they grab ahold to your hand you can do the same" Johnny informs.
"That was... very fun" You smile.
"Well I'm glad you enjoyed it" He chuckles.
"Thank you really" You praise.
"Oh it's no problem, anytime" He states.
Once again you feel that same pull once you stare into his eyes, he must feel it to seeing as he was pulling closer to you. Eventually your lips meet and you place your hand on his jaw as he does for your waist.
You both pull away slowly.
"That was...nice" You compliment sweetly.
"Yeah it was" Johnny smiles, until you both hear a bell and the dojo's door open.
"Uh sensei?" A young boy asks walking into the dojo.
"Hey Miguel! This is um Y/n, Miguel this is Y/n" Johnny introduces as he clears his throat a little.
"Hello, it's nice to meet you" You say feeling your cheeks heat up slightly.
"It's nice to meet you" Miguel says with a shy smile as he puts his backpack down on the ground.
"So I'll just go.." You smile awkwardly.
"Yeah okay, I had fun. It was uh that was- okay yup" Johnny stutters.
You smile and send a small wave to the both of them before returning to your car and eventually heading home.
Night soon arose and it just crashed that you needed some groceries, so you decided to head to the mini mall at the strip mall to grab some things.
So that's what you did, on your way out of your car you locked the doors and began walking to the entrance, but before you could someone puts their hand over your mouth and and pulls you into the alleyway behind the mall.
They let you go and you face towards them to see it was your ex boyfriend "what do you want?" Your eyes widen.
"Oh come on don't be like that, I just want you" He goes to put his hand out to you.
"Well I don't want you" You say grabbing his hand and twisting it like Johnny taught you, hearing a crack as you do so.
You were more so worried about getting away from him so you kicked him with his now broken arm still wrapped around his neck causing him to fall.
You take your chance and run back into the eye of the strip mall, you run to where Johnny's dojo is and pray that he was still their as you open the door.
"I'm sorry but we're close-" he starts before seeing it was you.
His eyes widen as he rushes towards you "what happened?" He question worriedly.
"That technique... definitely works" You pant, before taking a deep breath.
"It was my ex" You roll your eyes.
"Where is he?" He goes to walk outside but you stop him.
"I broke his arm" You cringe.
"Ouch... he had it coming" he tilts his head to the side, whilst you nod in agreement.
"Are you okay though?" Johnny questions coming to check you for any bruises or marks.
"I'm great thank you" You thank great-fully.
"For what?" He questions, furrowing his brows.
"The move, as you can see it helped a lot" You chuckle "-and... and the kiss, it was great" you add on.
Johnny smirks slightly "oh yeah? You wanna reply that moment?" He questions playfully.
"I think I do"
_______________________________________________
This was requested by @peachymelon69
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strawberryfics · 4 years
Text
Falling into a frozen lake
Shoto x Reader and Bakugo x Reader
Y/n trying to save a cat and ends up falling into frozen lake and having Todoroki/Bakugo save them- @reaperfeels​
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Shoto had wanted to go out with you for some time now. He wasn’t very fond of showing PDA and preferred to show affection in private so taking a vacation was the perfect idea he decided to take you to a nice cabin on the outskirts of town. You had been staying at the cabin for a few days and you had been waiting for it to snow
On the fourth day of your stay, it snowed overnight. You were overjoyed as you played around and even had a snowball fight with Shoto.
“Wanna Play hide and Seek Sho”
“Sure love I’ll count to 100, you better run”
And with that, you ran as fast as you could looking for somewhere to hide while counting in your head
You slowed your run down to a walk “Heh heh okay Shoto should have counted to 56 I've got fifty-second to-“
You walked about while trying to figure out how much time you had left until you heard a crack you looked around where did that “CrEaK” you heard it again but this time you looked down and saw you were on top of a frozen lake that was cracking
“Oh god okay calm down slowly step” You began to be cautious as you tried to get off the lake
“Almost there, oh god please let me get off“ you sighed as you heard the lake creak once more but this time the ice under you fell into the water you screamed Shotos name as you fell in
“96...97...98 ”
“SHOTO!” “Y/n?” Todoroki was confused but he knew you needed him as he ran to the sound of your scream
You banged on the ice trying to find the hole you fell in from. You scrambled as you searched for the opening. You threw your hand up into the air grasping for the edge. You found the edge now all you had to do was pull yourself out. You grabbed the ice with both hands and tried to get yourself out but you couldn’t your muscles had given out. You held on as tight as you could as you screamed for Shoto
Shoto, listen to your pain voice as he followed the sound. He felt horrible knowing you needed him and he wasn’t there. He ran faster and faster as he imagined all the scenarios you could be in until he came to a clearing and saw you struggling to get out of the lake's water He ran to you and immediately grabbed your hands and pulled you out of the water. He then used his quirk to freeze the lake so the two of you wouldn’t fall in.
He checked your body to see if you had any cuts. He felt a bit relieved to know you weren’t bleeding anywhere. He looked into your eyes not even realizing that you and his self were crying together he watched as you shivered.
He used his quirk to warm up his hands he slowly removed your jacket and shirt, he began to put his clothes on you, he picked you up and activate his quirk as you wrapped your legs around his waist and put your arms around his neck. He ran to the Cabin with you in his arms and when you arrived he immediately stripped you down and place you in a hot bath. While you bask in the warmth he sat by the edge of the tub holding your hand while silently crying. He was so scared that he had lost you. Once you got out of the bath he put you in (his) your favorite pajamas and laid down with you. That night he didn’t let go of you. He was attached to you for a while after that, he was even scared to let you out of his sight
Poor Baby :(
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Katsuki decided to take you to his parent's vacation home for the New Year. You would be staying for a week and then heading back to Musutafu. Katsuki had been wanting to get some alone time with you for a while now. Pro-Hero duties had been getting in the way of his time with you and to be honest, He missed you so taking you on a little vacation was an amazing solution.
Katsuki was unpacking your things from the car as you wandered around playing in the snow.
“Don’t go to far baby, I don’t wanna lose your dumbass”
“Alright Suki” you giggled as you play with the snow, throwing it in the air and making snow angels
You continued to run around playing in the snow when you saw a small kitten
“Awe you must be cold” you slowly made your way to the cat “Please don’t be afraid I just wanna help you” you pleaded with the cat as you got closer Right as you were at arm's length the cat ran away
“Heyyy I just trying to help you” you spoke as you chased after the cat
Katsuki has finished unloading the car and setting up the cabin for the two of you, he headed outside to find you but you were gone
“Heh where’d that dumbass go”
You continued to chase the cat, you watched as the cat sat down and began to clean its self.
You quietly began to approach the cat. Step by step you got closer to the cat
~almost there just a little farther~
Just as you were about to pick up the cat it ran and with the cat you chased it, or you would of chases it if the ice under you didn’t break
You were so involved with a cat that you didn’t even notice you were on top of a frozen pond
You quickly swam to the top only to hit the ice. You held your breath the best you could as you felt around for the hole you fell in from. You slowly felt your body freeze, you felt the air you tried your best to hold in come out. You continued to try and get out as you banged on the ice hoping it would crack as your body choked on the water you felt your eyes grow heavy, your head hurt and you gasped for air as you sunk to the bottom of the lake
Katsuki was freaking out he couldn’t find you anyway, he was running around and shouting your name trying to find you. Until he came to the lake and saw a chunk of it broken without hesitation he got in hoping he could save you in time
He swam to you and put you in his arms bridal style as he swam with his legs to the top.
~Oh god what do I do, are they even breathing~
He felt around for your heartbeat and felt himself break as he didn’t feel it. He listened for your breathing and his heart shattered as he didn’t hear it.
He began to cry as he did his best to give you CPR
“You can’t leave me yet! We haven’t gotten married or bought a house together! We haven’t traveled the world or accomplished your dreams! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME Y/N PLEASE”
He kept trying to get your heart to start but it just wouldn’t he fell back starting at your face
“Please don’t leave me”
You began to cough, it hurt to feel so much water come out of your body. You were freezing and your body ached. You look up to see Katsuki with tears running down his rosy cheeks, he smiled watching your eyes open. His face lit up seeing you were still with him
He embraced your whole body in a tight hug
“Don’t ever do that aga-again dumbass” he choked on his words as he tried to quiet his sobs
He picked you up and carried you back to the cabin where he changed your clothes trying your wet body with a towel as he gave you his hoodie and a pair of sweatpants
Once you were dressed he pick you up once more and sat in front of the fireplace and for the rest of the night he didn’t let go of you. He was scared that if he let go of you, you’d be gone forever. So he didn’t let go and he wasn't going to for a long time
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