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#It's just time after time after time where I'm scaring and worrying people
adorabluesposts · 3 days
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Hi!
I saw your post for requests and I was wondering if you would do a fic for Jason Todd? I saw you reposted something for him but if not it’s totally okay!
If yes, could you do a fic where he brings his girlfriend to the manor and everybody questions why she is with him? They are like polar opposites with her being shy and kind compared to his blunt attitude?
This might be a stretch but perhaps Damian’s long lost sister? (I’m a sucker for platonic Damian)
But again if you just reposted that and don’t write for them you can ignore this!
-W.P💚
YES YES OMG WP I LOVE YOU WHATT THANKS FOR REQUESTIONG FOR JASON<333 he's my babygirl 💗. Sorry this took so long I'm a menace to society. Maybe I went a bit too crazy with this.
TW: MENTIONS OF suicide, murder, violence, abuse
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It's hard to recall how it happened. It took what felt like years for you to get this close to Jason, but you were proud of your achievement.
Ever since you were a child, your parents taught you what kindness meant. Well, your mother did. Even if it was rough at home, and your father made living a hell, your mother managed to teach you how to treat any scar with kindness and not fight back with violence. And, after he killed her, you almost lost hope. But you just swore to continue finding kindness in anything. For her.
Its just that now you were more closed off.
And your feet were now glued to the ground. You saw the reality of Gotham when your dad killed himself after brutally murdering your mother. Leaving you all alone.
Enter Jason Todd, on a lonely night when you were just walking through the sad streets of Gotham. You had stumbled upon a mugging—a terrified woman cornered by two thugs. You couldn’t just stand idly by.
Your mother's kindness had been your legacy, and you would honor it. But before you could intervene, the Red Hood appeared. He moved with lethal precision, dismantling the criminals without hesitation. You watched, torn between awe and fear. When he turned to leave, you found your voice.
"You're bleeding." You commented, looking at his crimson red suit, which happened to be more red than usual. The guys he just fought didn't hurt him.. it must've been someone else.
"I am fine." Red Hood replied, clutching his side.
Somehow, he ended up on your couch. You weren't that much of a fan of it, considering that your landlord would kick you oit if his property smelled like a crime scene. And you were more than scared to have someone like Jason in your room. But you couldn't just... let him bleed out!
"The way you're patching me up isn't very comforting." He broke the silence. You smiled, but let out a small scoff.
“Comforting?” you laughed. “I’m not here to comfort you. I’m here to prevent my landlord from evicting me because my apartment smells like a crime scene.”
“You’re weird.” Jason tried to sit up, but you push him back down.
“Coming from a guy who wears a red helmet and shoots people,” You retorted. “That’s rich.”
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Now you were in front of the Wayne Manor, holding Jason's hand like your life depended on it. Your heart was beating oit of your chest. Jason tried to rub your hand for comfort, but you were still nervous.
Bruce was the one that invited Jason to a monthly dinner. He tried to be closer to Jason, and he would've declined evey time of it wasn't for you begging him to give him a chance.
And this time, you decided to tag along. None of them knew. Except for Alfred, who Jason made sure to alert a few days before the dinner. You were contemplating your decisions, though.
As you both entered the Manor, and politely smiled at Alfred, you felt like your knees would just give out. And Jason now had a frown on his face, as if he hated the place.
You heard commotion from the dining room, with a few people sitting at the table already. We're you late?
"They usually wait a bit for us. But the food isn't ready." Jason whispered into your ear, easing your worries, before he cleated his throat. All heads snapped at him.
A few wanted to greet him, but their voices just got stuck as they saw you. "Hi, Jason." One of them still managed to say.
You recognised Bruce as he got up with a nod and walked over. "Who might you be?"
"She's my girlfriend." Jason placed his arm around your shoulder with a small, but proud, smile.
A few of the boys laughed. One of the girls just gasped with a smile.
"-Jason has a girlfriend?"
"-is it April fools yet?"
"-She's so pretty!"
You pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, smiling slightly. "Nice meeting you."
"She sounds so sweet," someone whispered.
Jason grabbed you from Bruce's glare, guiding you to the table as he introduced you to the kids. They all looked at you, watching you closely.
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That night, with every word you'd speak, the family would look more concerned, shocked or amused.
Damian finally cleared his throat. "Sorry to say, Jason. But your little girlfriend here will get herself killed."
You raised an eyebrow at that.
"Does she even know?" Tim asked. You assumed he was talking about the whole family's secret lives.
"She does." Jason grumbled. "And she'll be fine."
"Damian's right- she's too.. not you." Dick spoke.
"I think she's perfect!" Stephanie comments, where Cass just shakes her head with a smile, agreeing.
"I-" Jason held your hand underneath the table.
"I think she'll be fine." Bruce spoke up, giving you a nod. "Jason could use someone like her."
"We all could." Tim mumbled
“Smooth talker, that Bruce,” Jason whispered to you.
You rolled your eyes with a soft smile. “Says the guy who once told me he’d sweep me off my feet with a crowbar.”
Jason laughed. “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”
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They didn't take long to warm up after that. They were all still so confused on how you made your way there, but they liked you.
The Manor became like a second home after that, considering how often you'd visit. You would help around, goof or just lay there late at night when some were on patrol.
Damian, on the other hand, took the longest to adjust. Jason didn't try to get you two to warm up, because he didn't really want to. He knew how Damian was.
But you made your way to his heart, too.
Well, he secretly started calling you “Sister” when no one was listening. And it made your heart melt. He always acted nice towards you when his siblings were out of earshot.
Jason knew, though. But he swore not to tease Damiam, just for the sake of him not getting mad at you. ❤️
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SJJSJSJSJSJ MY BABYYYYY 💗😭
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sonofshu · 20 days
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unclewaynemunson · 8 months
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“I need to tell you something.”
Shitfuckno. Eddie doesn't even know why he's still surprised. This is how it always goes, after all. He should probably just give up and stop dating altogether – again.
Steve looks at him exactly as ominously as the words I need to tell you something require. Perfect Steve. Funny Steve. Sweet Steve. Sexy Steve. Steve, who Eddie had genuinely believed to be different.
Eddie sighs, barely suppressing a dark chuckle while he turns away from that perfect face. He doesn't want to look at Steve when he'll tell him the undoubtedly messed-up shit he's about to spill.
“Lemme guess, you're married?” That was what the last guy he dated told him, seven months after they got to know each other. It can't be much worse than that, can it?
Steve grabs Eddie's hand, causing him to involuntarily jerk up his head and meet his eyes.
“How did you know?”
Jesus H. Christ. Not again.
Eddie roughly pulls his hand out of Steve's grip and laughs a joyless laugh.
“Apparently I'm a good guesser.”
He stands up from the park bench the two of them had been sharing. “Well, Steve, this has been a blast. You should go back to your wife, or husband – don't tell me, I don't even wanna know – and I should um, get going. Maybe tell the next person right away what they'll be getting themselves into. Would save them a lot of wasted time, just in case cheating and going around other people's backs isn't really their thing, y'know.”
“Eddie, wait, let me explain!”
Eddie picks up his pace, but Steve, stubborn as he is, easily keeps up with him.
“I'm really not interested, man.”
“It's not – I'm not cheating on her!”
“Okay, so you have an open marriage, good for you. Still the kind of information you could've shared with me, say, three months ago, don't you think?”
“She's a lesbian.”
And that makes Eddie freeze on the spot. It takes Steve two steps before he realizes Eddie has stopped moving; he walks backwards until he's standing right in front of Eddie.
“She's my best friend,” he says, immediately using Eddie's stunned silence to his advantage. “Robin, my roommate – I told you all about her. We wanted to buy a house together and that turned out to be very complicated when you're not... Well, when you're not romantically involved. So we got married. For the, um, practical reasons. We never – we're like siblings. I love her like a sister. But she's also my wife. Platonically.”
It takes a few seconds until Steve's words sink in. Then, Eddie leaps forward and basically collapses into Steve's arms, needing to hold onto him to prevent himself from crashing to the ground.
Steve's arms are warm, strong, and as safe as ever.
“Eddie, are you okay?” Steve asks softly. His lips brush against Eddie's ear while he speaks, and worry colors his voice.
Perfect Steve. Too-good-to-be-true Steve.
“Jesus Christ, Steve,” is the only thing Eddie manages to say.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” Steve says. “It's just – I've gotten some, um... Less than ideal reactions, in the past, whenever I told this when I was seeing someone. So I thought it'd be better to wait until things were getting serious.” He sighs, tangling his fingers in Eddie's hair. “I didn't wanna scare you off. Are we – are you okay?”
Eddie nods. He lifts his head from where it's resting against Steve's shoulder and raises his hands to squeeze them around Steve's face.
“We're okay,” he says. “And I'm sorry I didn't want to listen to you. I–” He stops; he can't find the words right away. It's still difficult to talk about those things; to let himself be vulnerable. But Steve has been honest with him, so it's only fair to return the favor.
“I've been hurt, Steve,” he confesses. “More than once. I've had some really shitty experiences with dudes not being honest with me. I thought that that was what was happening again, and I couldn't – I couldn't go through that again. Especially not with you.”
“Jesus, Eddie, I'm so sorry.”
“It's okay,” Eddie rushes to say, pulling Steve even closer towards him. “I trust you.” And as soon as these words leave his mouth, he knows it's the truth.
“I do want to be absolutely clear about one thing, though,” Steve says.
Eddie leans back in Steve's arms to give him an expectant look.
“Robin is my wife. I'm not planning on that to change anytime soon. We've been through a lot together. She's been the most important person in my life for years. We own a house and a dog together, and I love her more than anything. I like you a lot, and I promise you I'm all-in with you, but... Robin is still my number one. And that's not gonna change overnight. I need you to be okay with that.”
Eddie swallows. He looks into Steve's eyes. All he sees is a man who is honest, who loves his friends deeply, and who refuses to make any compromises when it comes to love – whether it be the platonic or the romantic kind.
It doesn't scare Eddie off; it only makes him fonder of Steve.
He smiles, glances around to check if they're alone, and presses a quick kiss against Steve's lips.
“I think I can live with that,” he says. “As long as I'm the only one who gets to do this.” He closes his eyes and lets his lips meet Steve's again.
The sigh that Steve breathes into their tentative kiss is one filled with relief.
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theambitiouswoman · 10 months
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Questions To Ask Yourself If You Want To Become The Best Version of Yourself
What do I really care about? What things are really important to me?
What am I good at, and where do I need help? What am I strong in, and what could I get better at?
What do I want to achieve soon and later? What things do I want to do soon, and what are my bigger, long-term goals?
Am I trying new things and not just staying comfy? Am I doing things that might be a bit scary but good for me?
How do I deal with problems and when things go wrong? What do I do when stuff doesn't work out?
Am I nice to myself when things don't go well? Do I treat myself kindly, especially when things are tough?
How do I use my time, and what's most important? How do I plan my day, and what things matter the most?
Am I learning new stuff regularly? Do I keep finding out new things?
Do I have a good balance between work and fun? Do I make sure to have enough time for work and for things I enjoy?
Do I have good friendships and avoid bad ones? Am I friends with people who make me feel good?
Do I take care of my body? Am I eating well, exercising, and sleeping enough?
Do I think about my feelings and thoughts? Do I pay attention to how I'm feeling and what I'm thinking?
How do I deal with stress and make myself calm? What do I do when I'm stressed out?
Do I help others and make the world better? Do I do things to make people's lives nicer?
Do I have good habits and get rid of bad ones? Are there things I do every day that are good for me? Are there things I should stop doing?
Do I learn from what people say about me? When people give me advice, do I listen and try to get better?
Do I say no when I need to? Do I tell people when I need space or when something isn't okay for me?
What makes me really happy? What do I like to do that makes me feel great?
Do I use money wisely? Am I good at saving and spending money in smart ways?
Do I believe I can improve and get better? When things are tough, do I think I can get through them and learn something?Am I being kind to others and making them feel good? Do I treat people nicely and make them happy?
Do I learn from things I do wrong? When I make a mistake, do I figure out how to do better next time?
Do I try new things, even if they scare me a little? Do I give things a shot, even if they seem a bit scary?
Am I spending time with people who care about me? Do I hang out with folks who like me for who I am?
Do I eat healthy foods and move my body? Am I eating good stuff and getting some exercise?
Am I sharing and helping others when I can? Do I give stuff to others and lend a hand when I'm able to?
Am I paying attention when people talk to me? Do I really listen when others are speaking to me?
Do I take breaks and do things I enjoy? Do I give myself time to rest and do things I like?
Do I say sorry and make up if I hurt someone? When I make someone feel bad, do I apologize and try to make things better?
Do I imagine good things for myself in the future? Do I think about cool stuff I want to do?
Do I stop and relax when I'm feeling stressed? When I'm worried, do I take a moment to calm down?
Do I ask for help when I need it? Do I tell someone when I can't do something on my own?
Do I try my best, even when things are tricky? Even if it's hard, do I give it my all?
Do I pick up after myself and keep things tidy? Am I good at cleaning up and keeping things in order?
Do I use my time for things that matter most? Do I do important stuff before other things?
Do I think about good things that happened today? Do I remember all the nice things that occurred?
Am I okay with making mistakes and learning from them? Do I know it's okay to mess up sometimes and learn from it?
Do I show appreciation for the people around me? Do I let others know I'm thankful for them?
Do I take deep breaths and relax when I'm upset? When I'm mad, do I breathe and try to calm down?
Do I believe I can do better and keep growing? Do I think I can get better at things and keep getting smarter?
Am I happy with who I am right now? Do I like myself just as I am?
Do I feel okay when things don't go as planned? When stuff doesn't work out, do I stay calm?
Do I think about good things about myself? Do I focus on the nice parts of me?
Do I let go of things that make me sad? When something makes me upset, can I move on from it?
Do I notice when I'm feeling worried or scared? Am I aware of when I'm feeling nervous or frightened?
Do I believe I can do things even if they're tough? Can I do hard things if I try?
Do I try to make my mind peaceful? Do I relax my thoughts when they're racing?
Do I find things that make me feel relaxed? What can I do to feel calm and at ease?
Am I patient when things take time? Can I wait without getting upset?
Do I talk kindly to myself in my head? Do I say nice things to myself in my mind?
Am I curious about things and want to learn? Do I like to find out new stuff?
Do I think about good times and happy memories? Do I remember fun things that happened before?
Do I try to understand how others feel? Can I tell what others are feeling?
Do I imagine nice things happening in the future? Can I think about good stuff that might come?
Do I take time to rest and be by myself? Do I give myself breaks and quiet time?
Do I let go of things I can't change? Can I forget about things I can't do anything about?
Do I believe I can do things even if I don't know how yet? Do I think I can learn new things?
Do I tell myself I'm doing a good job? Do I give myself a pat on the back?
Do I stay calm even if things are really busy? Can I be relaxed even when things are crazy?
Do I know that I can make mistakes and it's okay? Do I understand that everyone messes up sometimes?
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stillmonsterz · 2 months
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you know i'm down
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pairing: jay x reader
genre: smut
summary: it's march 2020 and you're stuck in the house with your stepfather during lockdown. can the two of you keep it together?
warnings: stepcest, unprotected sex, swearing, dubcon, panty-sniffing, virus mention, COVID implication (?),
word count: 3.8k
--
“Yeah. Yeah, I know, things are getting crazy, but try to keep your head up, yeah? You’ll be safe,” Jay said into his phone, his forehead creasing as he spoke. His newly wedded wife had taken a trip to visit her mother shortly after their marriage, but now the government was advising that she stay where she was. The news was scaring her, and it scared Jay, too, but he couldn’t let her know that. He was her steadfast protector, her bastion, and so he reassured her that everything would be okay.
“And you’ll take care of her too, yes?” she asked firmly, referring to her daughter.
“Of course, honey. I’ll take care of her like she’s mine,” Jay said, rubbing his forehead. “I promise.”
“You’re so good with her,” his wife said. “You know, she really likes you, right?”
“I really like her, too,” Jay said softly, and it was the truth. His wife and her daughter had moved in with him three short months ago, and neither of them had caused trouble. On the contrary: Jay wished that he could see more of her daughter so they could be closer. He wanted to be a good stepfather, but she was always holed up inside of her room.
They exchanged goodbyes, I love yous, and promises to stay safe, and then Jay was alone on the couch with his own thoughts. If he sat there for too long, stewing in fear, he would lose his mind. Jay turned the television on and checked the news. They were strongly advising people to stay put for at least two weeks, and Jay made a mental note to coordinate with his employees about this in a few hours. No point riling people up and forcing them to worry about work so early in the day.
Jay was sitting on the couch with lips set in a line when you had tentatively crept down the stairs, worry etched on your features. He turned the television off and assessed you carefully. You were so similar to your mother in stature and facial features, but Jay doubted that his wife would ever don the dolphin shorts and hoodie combination you were so fond of wearing. Of course, you made it look cute. You shuffled over to him, wringing your hands. 
“Mom really can’t come back?” you asked, hovering near the other end of the couch.
Jay nodded, setting his phone on the side table. “Yeah, they really want to curb the spread of the virus,” he said, smoothing his hands down his legs. “She’ll be okay, though. There’s a lot of food at her mom’s house, and she won’t be alone. It’ll only be two weeks.”
Your lower lip trembled, and you looked away from Jay as you tried to calm yourself down. You rubbed your hands along your arms, and Jay could see that you had goosebumps. “You don’t think she got it, do you?” you asked in a wavering voice. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” Jay said quietly. “Look at me.” When you refused, obstinately staring at the ground, his voice became firm. “Look at me.”
You lifted your head, and he spread his arms and gestured for you to come to him. He wrapped you in his embrace, rubbing your back. You leaned on him, kneeling in between his legs as you hugged him tightly. “There’s no way that she caught it,” Jay said soothingly. “She’s been with her family the entire time. She hardly went off their property.”
“I’m just so worried. I’ve never lived through anything like this before,” you said falteringly, pulling away so you could look at his face. Jay knew you were looking at him to check for chinks in his armor, a sign of doubt. He pulled his features into a convincing mask of resoluteness and confidence. 
“It’ll all be okay,” he said, running his thumb along your cheek. “Look on the bright side, you won’t have to commute to school for two weeks.”
You chuckled, looking down as you smiled. “You’re right, Jay.” Jay liked that you didn’t try to call him Dad or Daddy. When he had first met you after a few months of dating your mom, he had been pleased to find that you weren’t the archetypal bratty stepdaughter. Instead, you were sweet and intelligent, and you hardly asked him for a thing. Jay stroked your hair comfortingly and kissed your forehead. 
“You wanna watch a movie together? Would you like that?” You nodded your assent, and Jay reached around for the remote and went on Netflix. He put something lighthearted on for you, and shortly after the movie started you rested your head on his chest. Belatedly, Jay realized that it might be somewhat inappropriate to hold you like this, with you curled up in his arms, kneeling between his legs. But you were so worried, and you needed a guiding figure there, so what else could he do?
Jay continued to rub your back as you watched the movie together. At some point, though, Jay’s attention permanently moved from the film onto you, and he studied your features closely. His wife was a very pretty woman, and started to realize that her daughter was a very pretty girl. 
Maybe this lockdown wouldn't be so bad, if he could get closer to you.
The next day, Jay took stock of everything in the kitchen. Thankfully, they tended to bulk-buy, so he didn’t think that they would have to go shopping for two weeks. Yesterday, you hadn’t eaten dinner, blaming your nerves for curbing your appetite. He decided to surprise you with a pancake breakfast. He smiled as he imagined you eating pancakes. You’d look so adorable with full cheeks…
As he started to gather the ingredients, he heard footsteps padding on the tiled floor. 
“What are you doing?” you asked quietly. Jay turned to face you, and his breath caught. You were rubbing your eyes, looking around the kitchen, and you were so cute. Jay swallowed thickly and returned his attention to the array of supplies in front of him. 
“Just making breakfast,” he mumbled. “Pancakes.” 
“Can I help?” He heard you come closer, and he could smell your body wash. It was fruity and playful; something from Victoria’s Secret or Lush, a store like that. It went so well with your natural fragrance, Jay had to resist the urge to sniff the air.
“Nah, it’s fine,” Jay replied, kneeling down to find where the pans were stashed. It was his house, but his wife had reorganized the kitchen to her liking, so he had trouble finding things. 
“I want to help,” you said, and Jay looked up at you. A mistake. How could he refuse those earnest eyes of yours?
“Yeah, sure,” he said, hoping he came off as nonchalant. He gave you some instructions, well-aware that his voice was somewhat strained. Jay watched you bustle around the kitchen, shamelessly checking you out. Guilt nipped at him, but he reasoned that it was just looking. There was nothing wrong with looking. And when you wore little shorts like that, you were asking to be looked at, really. 
Jay snapped himself out of it and returned his attention to cooking. He flipped the pancakes without using a spatula, and you clapped. “I wish I could do that,” you said. 
“Here, I’ll show you.” Jay wrapped your hand around the end of the pan and covered it with his own. “You have to utilize a certain flick of the wrist, but put pressure on your index finger, your middle finger, and your thumb…” When you successfully flipped a pancake with his help, you giggled, and he felt warm. Like a proud father, he thought. Just like a proud father.
As you two ate breakfast together, he could see your happiness returning. You must have been so worried about your mother, and he was glad to see you shoveling pancakes in your mouth and laughing about some video your friend had sent you. 
“You’ve got syrup all over your mouth,” Jay said, smiling. Before you could wipe it yourself, Jay wet his thumb and wiped it off, relishing in the opportunity to touch your lips. “I bet you were such a messy kid,” he murmured.
“I was,” you said with a self-deprecating laugh. “My mom was always running after me with Wet Wipes.” 
Jay chuckled at the thought, retracting his thumb. “I’m sure she didn’t mind. You were probably a cute kid, too.”
You groaned. “I was so cute. I have no clue what happened.”
You got pretty, Jay thought. 
“You think I’m pretty?” you asked, a smile playing on your lips, and Jay realized that he had carelessly complimented you. 
Jay cleared his throat. “Of course you are,” he said, desperately trying to center himself. “You look just like your mother.”
You nodded, still looking pleased with the compliment, and Jay could feel his heart racing out of his shirt. You were going to be the death of him.
The next day, after dinner, (another collaboration between the two of you), you had announced that you would do the laundry. Jay shook his head and handed his plate to you. “You do the dishes,” he said, smiling slyly. “I’ll take care of the laundry.”
You begrudgingly took the plate and stacked it on top of yours. “I hate doing the dishes.”
Jay laughed and ruffled your hair as he walked past you. “Doing things you hate builds character,” he called behind his shoulder. 
As soon as he got upstairs, he made a mad dash to your bedroom to retrieve your laundry basket. He didn’t have a lot of time. Jay opened your door and bent down to examine the white hamper. Pawing through your clothes, he shakingly retrieved a pair of your panties. It was painfully conservative. Weren’t girls your age supposed to be wanton little sluts? He held it up, examining it closely. Common sense told him to put it back, morality told him to put it in the hamper, and his own conscience was screaming at him to just drop the fucking panties. But something stronger compelled him to hold the panties to his nose and sniff them deeply. Your scent was intoxicating, and he sighed. Jay took a few more deep sniffs before he dropped the panties back into the hamper and walked down to the laundry room. 
It was lockdown, he concluded as he set the basket down. Lockdown was driving him crazy, turning him into a libidinous beast. Never mind that it had only been three days - three days was enough. Three days of being forced to watch as your stepdaughter pranced around in shorts that just barely hid her tight little ass, of having to smell her, of knowing that there was pussy that he couldn’t get to…that would drive a monk to drink. As long as he didn’t act on it, Jay reasoned, he’d be fine. 
-
Over the next week, you and Jay had fallen into a routine. You ate breakfast together, then you dispersed to your separate rooms- you had to do online school, and Jay had to navigate running a business over Zoom. You would eat lunch together, discussing the virus, your problems, or just comfortably sitting in silence. 
Then you squirrel away back to your room. When that happened, Jay would generally do two things in an interchangeable order. He would either retire to his office and read a business management book or go over his emails, or he would rub his dick raw in his ensuite bathroom to the thought of stepdaughter pussy. Pornography wasn’t necessary; he could just close his eyes and imagine you in those stupid shorts, imagine you taking them off and crawling towards him, imagine his hands groping your forbidden body.
 After that, he would cook dinner for the two of you, and you would watch a movie together. You liked to rest your head on his shoulder, saying that that’s how you and your mother would watch movies. So Jay would wrap his arm around you, his other hand clenching the armrest of the couch so tightly his knuckles turned white as he tried to fight off his basest urges. After that, you would go to your room, and Jay would go to his room and edge himself for half an hour. 
Then, he would text your mother and tell her that he loved her.
A week after the lockdown had been announced, Jay checked his appearance in the mirror in the living room and frowned. He had a meeting in an hour, but he noticed that he was developing a unibrow. Normally, his wife would help him pluck the hairs.
You walked downstairs and noticed Jay scowling at himself. “What’s wrong?” you asked, standing next to him. By now, just your scent went straight to his cock, making it stir, and Jay sighed.
“Your mom’s not around, so now I’m turning into a caveman,” he said, pointing at his eyebrows. 
Your face brightened. “I can pluck them for you!”
Jay’s face fell, but he quickly put on a mask of indifference. “Oh, you don’t have to, I can figure it out,” he said, waving his hand.
You reached out and grabbed his hand. “Please, Jay? It’ll be so fun. It’ll be therapeutic. Please?”
You were the devil, he decided, the devil cloaked in the vestments of a college student. “Fine,” he relented, and you cheered.
Jay wearily stood next to the mirror as you sprinted up the stairs to get your tweezers. You bounced back down shortly, opening and closing the tweezers with the steeliness of a surgeon. 
“Sit down,” you ordered, pointing at the couch in the living room. Jay obeyed, sitting down on the far end of the couch. You straddled his waist.
“What are you doing?” Jay asked, his voice somewhat panicked.
“I have to get close to you,” you replied. Jay realized that his reaction was unwarranted and he was doing a shit job of acting like he didn’t want to fuck you, so he nodded. 
As you plucked his eyebrow hairs, Jay rested his hand on her waist to stabilize you. He stared at you as you worked; you were so lovely when you focused. Jay decided not to fight it, just for now. He languidly rubbed a circle around your waist as you plucked his eyebrows, and his other hand rested on your knee. If Jay tried, he could almost forget who you were. He could just pretend like there was no relation, that you were a stranger, that it wasn’t wrong to feel like this.
“Done!” You put the tweezers on the side table and examined his brows by tilting his head this way and that. Jay continued looking at you. He leaned back so that he was resting fully on the armrest, and your chest pressed against his due to the slight shift in position.
Jay’s voice was low and rough. “How does it look?” His hand still caressed your waist over your hoodie, and he noted that you made no move to get up.
“Very nice,” you replied, both hands still on his face. “You look very handsome now.”
Jay smiled slightly, looking you up and down. “Yeah?”
You looked in his eyes and nodded. “Yeah.”
Jay wasn’t sure who had leaned in first, but he did know that he was the one who deepened the kiss. You tasted incredible, and you weren’t a bad kisser, either. Your lips were soft and you took your time; your hands still cupped his cheeks. Jay’s hand slipped from your waist and worked its way up your hoodie, resting on your stomach. His other hand crawled up your leg, and he was endlessly grateful that you wore those dolphin shorts all the time. 
You were the one who probed your tongue at the entrance of his mouth, and you were the one who ran it along his teeth. He stroked his tongue along yours, tilting his head even further. Your hands slipped from his cheeks to rest on his shoulders.
Strangely enough, as he made out with his stepdaughter, Jay felt no qualms. All he could focus on was how good it felt, on how warm your little mouth was, on the way your body tensed as he ran his hands over you. Jay brought his hand higher, from your stomach to your ribs, until it was resting just below your breasts. He waited for you to pull away, to tell him to stop, but when you didn’t, he continued. Jay’s hand cupped your breast, and he briefly broke the kiss.
“You didn’t wear a bra?” he asked in an accusatory tone, kneading your breast. 
You shook your head.
“You wicked little minx.”
You shrugged, placing your hands behind his neck. “I normally don’t wear bras around the house. I mean, it’s just you and me in here.”
“No,” Jay whispered. “It’s not ‘just’ me.” Jay leaned in to kiss you with renewed fervor. His other hand slipped up into your shorts, fondling your upper thigh. Gently, Jay began to push you down onto the couch, until he was resting his full body weight on top of you. His hand groped at your chest, and he used both of his hands to pull your hoodie off. Finally, finally, he would get to see your body without a massive piece of fabric hiding it.
Jay moaned as soon as he saw your naked torso. He momentarily stopped kissing you to suck your tits. Both of his hands ran up and down your thighs, and he relished in your little gasps and whimpers. Jay took his mouth off of your breast and looked up at you. “You like that?”
You nodded, your face contorted in pleasure. “I like it, Jay.”
You had all but given him the green light to do whatever he wanted to your body, and almost without his knowing he began grinding his hips against yours. After leaving sloppy kisses all over your breasts, Jay kissed you again, sucking your tongue over and over again. 
He continued to rut against your clothed pussy, the friction assuaging the painful stiffness he felt in his cock. Jay knew he was pathetic. He knew how degenerate, how desperate, how sick he was. Only a freak would dry hump their stepdaughter on the couch. He didn’t even last an entire week. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to fully care, let alone to stop. Jay ground his crotch into yours, pressing you deeper into the couch, and he groaned in your mouth. 
His hands were all over you now, stroking your back, your chest, your stomach, your thighs, and he was dimly aware of your own hands snaking up his shirt. 
Jay broke the kiss again, sweat dripping down his nose. “You can’t tell anyone,” Jay said frantically as he began to unbuckle his belt. “Got that? Not your friends, not your classmates, not your mom. Do you understand me?”
You nodded, but that wasn’t enough. “Do you understand me, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” you said hoarsely, your lips already swollen. “I won’t tell anyone.”
Jay tossed his belt to the side and tugged his jeans down. “Our little secret, right?”
You shimmied out of your shorts. “Our little secret.”
Jay slid your panties down your legs and parted your legs, pushing one up the couch and leaving the other to hang off of the side. He glanced at you as he worked his cock a few times. “Are you a virgin?”
You shook your head. 
“Good.”
“Why?”
“I’d never fuck a virgin the way I’m about to fuck you,” Jay said. Your eyes widened in apprehension, and Jay smiled.
He pushed himself inside of you roughly. As soon as he felt your pussy tighten around his cock, its warmth enveloping him, he swore. “Oh, fuck.” Jay kept your legs pushed open as he inches himself into you. At first, he shallowly thrusts into you with about half of his length. You’re already shuddering like a whore, whining and shaking, but you aren’t wet enough for his liking. Jay reached his hand down and stroked at the area above your vagina lips, eventually finding your clitoris. He rubbed it, just enough to get you nice and sopping wet. It didn’t take long, either; you must have been as pent-up as he had been, judging by the way you were gasping. Even just a few inches had you stuttering out some words that would make your mother blush.
He pulled out of you slightly, swirling his hips, before slamming his cock into you again. You moaned, a sound so gorgeous that he had to continue. Jay pounded your pussy mercilessly, his hands keeping your legs split open. His balls slapped against your thighs almost painfully as he kept up his pace. 
“Should have done this at the start,” Jay huffed. “Should have been inside you the second lockdown started.”
You opened your eyes. “Why didn’t you?”
Good question. Why hadn’t he just fucked you like this when you had come running to him for comfort? Why had he bothered waiting? For propriety? For politeness? None of that mattered. The only thing that mattered now was the feeling of your pussy gripping his cock. 
Jay smiled slightly as he imagined how your mother would react to this: her daughter splayed out on the couch, her tits bouncing up and down, her hand covering her mouth so her moans won’t echo all over the house, and her stepfather in between her legs, fucking her ruthlessly. The scary thing was, Jay didn’t think he could stop even if your mother had walked in. Your pussy felt too good, too tight, too warm, too inviting. 
You were so wet that Jay could hear it, his cock making obscene noises as it ravaged your hole. Jay pulled out of you, breathing heavily. He dragged you from the couch and laid you flat on the rug. 
“On all fours,” he said raggedly. “Now.”
You were weak, but you obeyed his instructions, displaying your red, aggravated pussy for him. Jay mounted you and fucked you like a dog, chasing his orgasm. His hands groped around your chest and he grabbed your tits while he pounded you. He leaned his head back and let out a primal moan.
Soon, your arms gave out and you collapsed onto the floor. Jay didn’t pull out of you, couldn’t pull out of you. He braced his arms on either side of you and slammed into you, pressing his entire body weight onto you. 
He felt his orgasm approaching, and he sped up, grunting and groaning. Jay felt like he would die if he didn’t cum, and he fucked into you mindlessly. When his orgasm hit, he let out a strangled scream. He could feel the pleasure from his cock all the way to his fingertips; his hairline tingled as he emptied himself out in your pussy. 
Jay didn’t know what he would do next. He didn’t know how you would act around each other. But he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he had to do this again and again with you.
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dcxdpdabbles · 3 months
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you’ve inspired me so here’s a thing you can do whatever with cause I got a migraine and lost my train of thought
so Danny’s working the bar at the iceberg lounge and notices more people are stress drinking, even the Big Names and asks what’s up only to find it’s ✨Tax Season✨
Danny: oh I always forget about that
someone: (aghast) you don’t pay your taxes
Danny: *shrugs* I’m not allowed to pay taxes
wtf does that mean, is he exempt, someone asks but no Danny explains that the first and only time he tried to pay his taxes he received a full refund and a cease and desist order
word gets around and not even the joker want to mess with Danny because what kind of a monster can scare the irs
(This is actually an inherited problem from his parents)
"What did you just say?" Danny looks up from where he is mixing drinks. Across from him is a purple suit-wearing clown- he hates clowns, so he was attempting not to make eye contact- whose whole white face is twitching slightly.
Danny blinks slowly, using every ounce of self-control to not give in to the urge to reach across the bar and slap him. After a moment, he answered, "I always forget tax season."
"You're crazy enough to take on the IRS?" The clown's jaw drops. "I mean Batman, sure, I understand that, but the IRS?"
Danny frowns. "I don't take them on. I don't have to do my taxes."
"How?" A man in a suit covered in question marks demands from further down the bar.
He shrugs his shoulders a little. "I tried it once, but they sent me a full refund and a cease and desist order. They only remind me that I cannot file taxes now."
"Prove it," A man covered in scales hisses.
Danny grabs a rag, using it to clean off the lemon juice. He reaches into his apron pocket, pulling out a folded-up letter. He could have left it in his locker, but stuff always went missing there. Best to keep his stuff on his person while working. "Sure. Here I have it now. I went to the post office before my shift-hey!"
The lade covered in leaves yanks the letter out of his hand, unfolding it and reading the words as though it wasn't a federal crime. Her voice wavers when she gets to the reminder that the United States of America Internal Revenue Service would not stand another attempt at Daniel Fenton's taxes.
"This can't be real," She scoffs, but there is an underline of worry in her voice that she can't entirely hide.
She turns to a man in a strange white and black suit- like it's evenly split down the middle strange. It matches his face, though; one side is gorgeous, and the other is deformed. "This isn't real, is it Two-Face?"
Two-face takes the paper from her hand, carefully reading the words before pulling out his phone and typing away. After a few seconds, he pauses, then gasps. "It's real. My boys just confirmed the Tax ID number. He is not legally allowed to do taxes."
"Holly Molly, you're insane," the clown gasped, backing out of the seat while pointing at Danny as though he was the devil. "Stay away from me you lunitic! I'm not messing with the IRS's boogie man!"
He turned tail and ran, leaving behind a stunned Danny, wondering what he could have said to earn that reaction. His parents back home were also ordered to not do their taxes. It's common.
He turns to his other customers, ready to take their order, but they all pale and quickly duck away from him as well.
Strange.
Then, Danny notices the silence that has fallen upon the Iceberg Lounge. Even the music has been cut off as everyone stares at him in disbelief.
He shifts, a little uncomfortable with the stares. Danny has never grown used to attention, no matter how much he craved it as a teenager. He always wanted to be in the It Crowd and be given an official membership to the A-listers, but he grew to understand that the only way they liked seeing him was in pain.
So Danny learned to avoid attention as he could, which wasn't complex as the part of the town's freaks, but the very few mintues someone did pay attention to him something terrible ended up happening.
Dash stuffed him into a locker while classmates laughed and cheered the bully on.
A teacher calling on him just to make him feel stupid.
His parents realized he was slipping in his grades and reminded him that he was a failure to the family's intelligence.
Or some random GIW agent that "banished" him from his Earth, flinging Danny straight across the universe to whatever hellhole Gotham crawled out of.
He barely got this bartending job only a few weeks ago- lying about his age which he thinks his boss doesn't care about- and using a shade of an old bartender to coach him in mixology.
Shades were different from ghosts. For one thing, they were weaker and unable to be seen by regular people. They could not interact with the world and often didn't even know they were dead. If Danny had been able to see them before the portal, he would have known they were the cause of what is commonly known as a "ghost."
They were the myths.
Jeff Ricci is Shade, one who is aware he died. He was killed in a gang shoot-out a few years after he and his sister ran away from an abusive home. They traveled through three states, dodging police and CPS, before they disappeared among Gotham's homeless population.
The pair of siblings survived for a while doing odd jobs for local gangs- things like drug runs or helping them move guns- which is why Jeff was out there the night the fight broke out.
It was an imperfect stroke of luck, the wrong place and time. The two had been doing so well, too. They had both gotten jobs at the Iceberg Lounge, lying about their ages, where Jeff was a dishwasher, and Lucia was a housekeeper.
After hours, Jeff was taught by his coworkers how to properly mix drinks, waiting for Lucia to finish her job. When the two turned eighteen, Lucia became a waitress, and Jeff joined the bar- though if anyone asked or checked their employee records, both were twenty-one.
With better pay and hours, they could rent an apartment, finally gaining a home after three years of homelessness. Jeff had lived in that home for only a month when he accepted a job to buy Lucia some migraine medication and had perished.
Lucia lived on without her twin, broken far more than before, but she still had the apartment and job at the Iceberg Lounge. She was unaware her brother still followed her around, watching her actaully turn twenty-one while he remained eighteen.
That's how Danny met him, a somewhat see-through man casually following one of the prettiest waitresses. He had assumed he was being a creep, but Jeff had been delighted that someone could not only see him but was willing to protect his sister by threatening him away from her.
In exchange for lessons on proper mixing, Jeff asked Danny to keep an eye on his sister. Help her when he could not. It was a fair trade from one younger brother to another.
The shade is currently leaning against the counter beside Danny, staring at him as though Danny was a god. "You scare the Joker. Shit, Danny, I knew you were some kind of Rouge in the making, but to take out heavy hitters like this before your debut!? That's just terrifying! Would you be willing to pay my sister to be your secretary or something? She's a great typer!"
What a strange place Gotham is.
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ro5ani · 1 month
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Some thoughts I've been having since round 6 but it's mostly me ranting about Ivan
So first of all, this whole thing where Till goes looking for Mizi's flower crown and they get attacked by the alien, it was all staged by Ivan. He was waiting for Till outside of the entrance and followed him as he went there
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He didn't do anything to help them get away he was just watching how things played out, his goal was to get Till locked up so he could free him when no one was watching and they could escape (it would also show him as a savior thus making Till like him more)
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You can see marks in the wall while he watches, my boy was stressed (maybe even worried that something would go terribly wrong). And before this scene, he is shown hugging the alien and there's an official art of him inside the aliens mouth (not sure what that means maybe that was the way of convincing it, it's known Ivan always does whatever the aliens want so he can use that later to his favor) ANYWAYS there are no scenes where he intervenes, so I'm pretty sure he planned the whole thing.
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WHAT I'M TRYING TO GET AT IS, the meteor shower scene when they escaped.
If Ivan staged the whole thing he must've picked a specific day and time, so them escaping while there was a meteor shower is not a coincidence. Ivan did everything he could to convince Till, in the best way he could come up with.
Just like Till, Ivan suffered a lot of abuse even though it's not shown as much. At the beginning of round 3 we can see an alien threatening to throw him from the top of a building. He was scared and crying yet he saw, what probably was the most beautiful thing in his whole life, a meteor shower.
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There's a lot of focus on Ivan's eyes throughout the series, he's very observant and it's also a way to emphasize how he is always looking at Till. But before he actually met Till, the meteor shower was the thing that caught his attention, and you can tell by the way his eyes fill with meteors when he looks at Till. Till to him is as shiny and sparkling as a meteor shower.
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Ivan might be smart and very observant and mature for his age, but he's still a kid! He not only tried to save Till he also tried to impress him so they could get closer. So what did he do, like a kid showing off his toys to make an impression, he showed Till the most beautiful and impressive thing he knew.
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And Till was impressed! But it was not enough, so it happened what happened.
The point of this whole thing is that I've seen a lot of people say Ivan's only way of catching Till's attention is by bothering/being mean to him, and while he did that a lot, he also risked his life and staged this whole thing so Till could be happy.
And even after that didn't work out, he kept looking out for Till in the only way he knew or was able to.
So my boy Ivan is not just a bully give him some credit😭 He could've been a little more honest but u don't expect the aliens to teach them proper communication.
SO THAT'S WHAT I WANTED TO GET OUT OF MY SYSTEM
If u read all of this thank you 😭 and feel free to share thoughts too!
And excuse any weird wording, i literally never write long stuff
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rafesfavgirl · 24 days
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two graves, one gun — r. cameron
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sad rafe fic bc i just got my period and i'm feeling extra emotional :')
series: every few lifetimes
❝ so long, london stitches undone two graves, one gun you'll find someone ❞
pairing: bf!rafe x fem!reader
context: after another night of getting coked out and passing out on barry's couch, rafe realizes you deserve better than him and decides to let you go.
words: 1.3k+
warnings: drug addiction, break-up, might make you cry, ANGSTY asl
the sole of your heel taps anxiously against your living room's hardwood floor, as you stared at the time on your phone's lock screen, which lit up with a photo that wheezie took of you and rafe sitting at one of the tables at midsummers last year, looking at each other as if you were the only people there.
8:30 p.m.
your heart aches at the realization that he had forgotten your date again, but the nerves that settle in your stomach win over, as you think about where he probably is.
pushing your weight off the sofa, you grab your car keys from the hooks on the wall, and dial rafe on your way out the door.
straight to voicemail. fuck.
you skip down the steps in front of your house and unlock your car in the driveway to get in, immediately starting the engine to get on your way.
you dial rafe again as you pull into the road—to no avail.
"damn it, rafe," you mutter, eyes switching between the road and your phone as you type him a message.
you: where are you???
when the message doesn't even go through, you let out a frustrated groan. either his phone's dead or it's switched off. you step on the gas to speed up, zigzagging between cars to get there faster.
you pull to an abrupt stop in front of a beat-down house on the south side, and switch the car off before hopping out.
"mrs. country club, what brings you to this side of the island?" barry stands from the porch when he sees you walking towards him, fuming.
"oh spare me the fake hospitality, barry," you tell him. "where is he?"
"where's who?" he shrugs—but you knew he knew what you were talking about.
"don't play dumb with me," you spat, attempting to walk past him. "i know he's here."
he steps to the side to block you from going any further. "maybe so, but it ain't a pretty sight."
"ugh," you manage to walk past him and proceed into the house, with him on your tail. "rafe!"
barry catches up to you and blocks your way again. "hey, i told you-"
"barry, you're really testing my patience here, alright?" you say, refusing to back down. you weren't scared of him—okay, maybe a little, but you weren't about to let him see that. "rafe!"
you push past barry again, and make your way further inside, immediately rushing to rafe, who was passed out face-down on barry's couch.
"oh my god, rafe!" you crouch down beside him, not missing the un-sniffed lines of coke on the wooden table in front of him, and pick up his head in your hands. "baby, baby," you gently pat his face with your hand. "can you hear me?"
"told you it wasn't a pretty sight," barry leans against a wooden post and watches you, making you roll your eyes.
"rafe," you try to wake him up again. "babe."
thankfully, his eyes flutter open, relief washing over you as you let out a sigh. "oh thank god."
"y/n?" his voice is barely above a whisper when his eyes lock with yours. "shit!"
you move aside when he suddenly sits up, searching the couch cushions for his phone. "what time is it?"
"rafe-"
"no, fuck!" he shouts when he realizes his phone is dead, and looks up at barry. "i told you to wake me up if i knocked out!"
"i'm not your keeper, cameron," barry shrugs. "just take your shit and go, a'ight?"
"baby…" rafe turns to you kneeling on the ground beside him, his voice much softer now. "i swear i set an alarm— i was just— i didn't think my phone would die and-"
"hey," you place your hand on top of his, squeezing it lightly to make him look at you. "don't worry about it. let's just get out of here, okay?"
he nods, and you stand up, dusting yourself off as you do.
"i'll meet you in the car, doll," he tells you. "i just gotta take care of something."
the car ride back to your house is almost completely silent, until rafe breaks it.
"you look beautiful, by the way," he says, eyes shifting to you.
you glance at him, a small smile on your lips. "thank you."
"god, i'm such an idiot!" he groans, clearly frustrated with himself over the situation. "how many missed dates is that this month?"
"rafe, i told you not to worry about it," you tell him. "it's okay, i get-"
"y/n," his voice is stern now, his eyes burning holes into your skin. "how many?"
you sigh, turning the wheel towards the curb to park the car in front of your house. "four," you answer, switching the ignition off. "that was the fourth one this month."
rafe scoffs and shakes his head, eyes averting away from you. he just couldn't look at you anymore, because he knew that even if you didn't show it, you were disappointed. not only at him, but maybe even yourself for putting up with him.
"hey," you place a hand on his knee, and he glances down at the gesture, before finally looking at you. "it's okay."
"how is it okay?" he asks, eyebrows furrowing. "all i do is disappoint you."
"baby, that's not true," you try to reassure him, but he doesn't buy it.
"it is true," he tells you. "and you don't deserve it."
not knowing what to say, you just glance down at your hand on his knee. "rafe…"
"no," he cuts you off, and places his hand above yours to slowly push it off of him. "i can't keep doing this to you."
letting out a sigh, you adjust yourself in your seat so you're looking at him. "okay, rafe, before you saying anything else— i love you, alright? there's nothing you can do that-"
"and that's exactly the problem, a'ight?" he snaps. "you're never gonna walk away from me yourself! even when i bought this shit from barry after i told you to wait in the car." he reaches into his pocket and tosses the small bag of blow in between the two of you. your eyes shift from it to him, the uneasiness in your stomach only getting worse.
"i have a problem y/n," he tells you. "and it's not the kind you can just 'fix' with love."
"then we'll get you help. we'll do any-" you try to reach out to him, but he resists.
"no," he says, motioning a hand between you two. "this has to end."
the words you dreaded hearing comes out of his mouth in one fell swoop, your heart shattering into a million pieces.
"what?"
"i'm never gonna be the guy you need me to be," he shakes his head at you, and if it weren't so dark outside, you swear you'd see his eyes watering. "and since you can't let go, i have to do it for you."
tears brim along your lower lashes as you speak, "no. that is not your choice to make."
"god, y/n, can you stop making this harder than it already is?" he pleads.
"can you stop acting like it's so easy?" you retort.
"you think this is easy?" he asks, taken aback by your accusation. "it kills me to do this."
"then don't," you say, voice cracking as you reach out for his hands. "we can work through your addiction together, rafe. we'll-"
"that's not your responsibility," he shakes his head at you. "if i'm gonna get better, i need to do it on my own."
you sob, "i— i don't want this to be the end.”
rafe glances down at your hands, before bringing his hand up to cup your cheek.
you lean into his touch, and a single tear rolls down your cheek—one that he wipes away with his thumb.
"i love you so much," he says, eyes closing as his head tilted down against yours. "i'm sorry."
his lips place a soft kiss on your forehead, and just like that, he's gone.
part 2.
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
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patscorner · 2 months
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FAMILY DINNER
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Summary: Chris joins your family for dinner for the first time and it does not go as planned
Tw: Swearing, narcissistic dad, verbal arguing, panic attack mentions of alcohol use, mentions of ed(NO DETAIL), lmk if I missed something
______________________________
"Baby, it'll be fine. I'm sure they're not so bad." Chris spoke. It was 6:45, and you and Chris were heading to a family dinner. After you and him had started dating, him, his brothers, and your family have been begging to meet one another.
But you knew better. You knew your dad couldn't hold his tongue, and you knew your mom couldn't hold back her comments about how you sat, how you spoke, how you looked. You knew your brothers and your sisters knew how to mess with you, not enough to make you cry, but just enough to piss you off.
"Chris, you have no idea." You say, leg bouncing nervously as you both sat in the back seat of the van. You only agreed to go if Matt and Nick came with, knowing that Chris wasn't going to be able to keep his temper in check.
"Don't worry, y/n, it'll be okay. It's not like any of us are gonna provoke them. They don't have any reason to hate us." Matt chimed in from the drivers seat. Chris squeezed your thigh reassuringly.
"It's not you guys that I'm worried about." You muttered, biting your nails. You just hoped your dad didn't have much to drink tonight.
"Plus, we're youtubers, a little back handed comment isn't gonna affect us." Nick smiled triumphantly.
Boy, were they in for a treat.
____
After what felt like 2 minutes, Matt parked the car in front of your childhood home. You've dreaded this moment ever since you and Chris started dating. You knew the time would come, but you just ignored it and pushed it back as far as you could. But eventually, everyone became impatient, and you were pushed out of your comfort zone.
Chris wasn't prepared. None of them were because nothing could prepare them for what they were getting into. Growing up with 2 older brothers, a younger brother, and 2 younger sisters, you knew just how quick it could turn hostile. You knew how it could be peaceful one moment, and the next, 2 people are driving off, 3 are crying, and one is smashing plates.
It could get ugly quick. Mostly, you were able to hide most of your family troubles from Chris, only occasionally giving him bits and pieces. This was completely different. This was a full view of what and where you grew up, and if anything was off or revealed, Chris would be there to see. That scared the shit out of you.
And Chris knew that, so he didn't push, no matter how eager he was. He never pushed you to do anything that made you uncomfortable. This, though, meant a lot to him, so he did voice his opinion.
So here you were, standing outside of the home you grew up in, with your boyfriend and his triplet brothers. You take a deep breath before knocking.
Here we go.
You lean back into Chris, who's hand found home around your waist, squeezing gently. He kissed the crown of your head, whispering, "Relax, baby, we got this."
You nod as you hear the lock turn and the door open. Your oldest brother, Peter, who was 26, stood in front of you. He looked much different from the last time you'd seen him, which was like 2 years ago.
Last time you two were together was at Christmas when your dad decided to get plastered the morning of Christmas and destroyed everyone's presents. Thousands of dollars down the drain. You swallowed at the memory.
"C'mere kid." Was all Peter said before engulfing you into a long needed hug.
You melted into your brothers touch. "It's been too long. Way too long." You mumble against his chest.
When you pull away, you see tears in Peter's eyes. You slap his chest playfully, "Oh, you big baby, don't cry."
He laughs, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes. You laugh and hold his hand.
Nick clears his throat, bringing your and Peter's attention to the three same face boys.
"Oh! Yeah, Peter, meet my boyfriend, Chris, and his older brothers, Matt and Nick." You say, moving out of the way for the men to exchange greetings and hand shakes.
"I'd like to apologize in advance, I'm definitely gonna have trouble telling you guys apart." Peter laughs.
"Oh, don't worry about it. It happens all the time." Matt reassures. Nick and Chris nod in agreement.
"Okay, well, Dad's at the store - thank God -" He interrupted himself, putting his hands together and looking up, earning a chuckle from you, "but everyone else, excluding Cam, is here."
Your heart drops at his sentence. Your second oldest brother, Cameron, hadn't been to a family gathering since he moved out. You can't say you blame him, knowing your family, you wish you'd had the heart to leave too. It was still disappointing, despite how much you understood. Cam and you had always been the closest growing up, and your heart ached, knowing the rest of your family ruined that bond for you two. You and him were only 2 years apart, him being 22, and you being 20.
You knew you shouldn't have expected him to magically appear, but you were hopeful.
"That's okay. Let's go inside, I want them to meet the rest of the dumbasses." You say, trying to hide the disappointment, and it mostly worked, but when you turned around, you knew Chris knew.
He always knew.
You smiled at him and grabbed his hand, leading him into your house, gesturing Matt and Nick to follow.
Peter leads everyone down the hallway, the sound of playful yelling sounding from the living room. Peter took a left, walking into the room, smiling widely.
"Guess who's here!" He says happily, turning around to you, who stands in the doorway, smiling widely.
James, Maya, and Julia, your younger siblings, looked up and smiled widely.
"Y/nnnn!" Maya yelled, getting up and hugging you tightly. "Woah! Hey, hi baby." You say, smiling into her head.
Maya was the youngest, at 11 years old. She was the peacemaker, no matter how demanding, she probably had the best communication skills out of everyone. Which is saying something, she's 11.
"Alright, alright, save some for us." You look up and see your youngest brother, James, standing next to Julia, waiting their turn for a hug.
You let go of Maya and walk over to the 15 year old twins and embrace them tightly. God, how you missed them. This hug was shorter, only because your mother spoke up.
"Well, finally! What took you guys so long?" She asked, rolling her eyes. You break the hug, sighing heavily.
"Hi, mom. I'm happy to see you, too. Uh, this is Chris and his triplet brothers, Matt and Nick." You say, lifting your hand, gesturing towards the three men.
You smile as your siblings exchange greetings with the triplets, just as Peter did, happy that they were in a good mood. You turn back to your mom, who has a strange look on her face.
"What?" You ask, confused, sitting down on the couch next to her. "I thought you were only bringing your boyfriend? Or are you dating all three?"
Your eyes shoot to hers, a look of disgust covering your face. "What-Mom, no! Matt's talking to someone and Nick..." You cut yourself off, debating whether or not telling you mom about Nick's sexuality. It's not that your mom was homophobic, she just wasn't exactly open to it. You knew that if you told her, she'd figure out a way to make an untimely and out of pocket comment about it.
"Nick...?" Your mom gestures you to continue speaking.
You open your mouth to speak, but you hear the front door open. Oh shit. The party has started.
"Dad's here!" Maya shouts, running to the door. Chris sat down on the couch next to you, Matt and Nick next to him.
You notice Nick talking to Julia about her favorite music artists, and it looks like their having a good time. Peter and Matt seem to be getting along, while Chris and James talk about the most recent Celtics game.
Despite all the calm conversations going on around you, you can't help but feel nervous. Your dad's here, which puts everyone, at least on your side, on high alert, making sure they tiptoe on their words.
Chris notices you tense up and place his hand on your thigh, which you reach and squeeze his hand, not for his sake, but for yours.
Your dad walks in and freezes for a moment. It was a long moment, long enough for everyone to notice his presence and get silent. You and him stare at each other, not breaking eye contact for a minute.
Finally, after the deafening silence, you decide to speak. "Hey, dad." You breathe.
His shocked face turns into a soft smile. "Hey, kiddo, c'mere." You smile softly, cherishing the peace while it lasts. You stand up and walk over to your dad and embrace him. You knew what he was capable of, but you also knew how much he loved you and your siblings.
You could be mad at him all you wanted, but he's still your dad. "I missed you, y/n." He mutters into your head. You smile into his chest because as much as you hated to admit it, you missed him too. When he wasn't drunk or being an ass, he was a pretty awesome person.
You pull away, and he kisses your cheek before gesturing to the audience behind you. "And who are these fine gentlemen?" He asked.
You smiled. "That one's Chris, my boyfriend, and those are his triplet brothers, Nick and Matt." You say, gesturing to the boys, who wave as their introduced.
"Nice to meet you all, especially you, Chris." He smiles sarcastically. Here we go.
Suddenly, his demeanor changed. His shoulders tensed, and his fist clenched. You look at him curiously and wonder what flipped the switch, what pissed him off this time.
Chris smiles kindly. "Nice to meet you, too, sir."
Your dad nods before glancing at you and looking up again. "Dinner should be ready. How's everyone feel about spaghetti?" He clapsed his hands together.
He earns a collective 'yes' from everyone before picking up Maya in his arms and carrying her to the kitchen. Everyone stands up and begins to follow, except for you and Chris. He grabs your hand and pulls you closer to him.
"You okay, ma?" He asked. He must've noticed your demeanor change from happy and cheery to suspicious and confusion.
You nod your head hesitantly, still thinking about how quickly your father changed his mind about being kind. "Uh... yeah, yeah, I'm okay." You say softly.
He looks at you curiously. "Are you sure?" You nod again. "Yeah, let's go eat."
____
Quiet chatter amongst the families began at the dinner table, after everybody had gotten food. You noticed your anxiety seemingly grow stronger as the dinner continued. Nothing had happened yet, and that's what scared you.
Your leg bounced under the table, and despite Chris's attempts to soothe you by rubbing your thigh, nothing seemed to work. Even Chris's touch seemed to be too much, too overwhelming.
You feel your breathing catch in your throat, and suddenly, the gentle chatter becomes too overwhelming. The scraping of the forks echoed loudly in your ears as your hands started to sweat.
You stand up abruptly, catching the attention of all three triplets and James.
"Excuse me." You muttered before rushing to the bathroom and closing the door.
You curl into a ball, breathing heavily as tears fall from your eyes. You weren't having a panic attack yet, but if you didn't get your breathing in check, you'd get one soon.
You list off things in your head, things that make you happy. Sunshine, Chris, dogs in clothes, Chris, Sour Patch Kids, Chris
Speaking of which, you hear the door open, and you force yourself to look up, seeing your loving boyfriend. He got down on your level, taking your hand and putting it on his chest.
You catch on quickly, taking breaths that match his, well, kinda. Yours are shakier, but you're getting there. "It's okay, baby, you're okay. Shhh.." Chris whispers, his other hand rubbing your back.
You sigh as you finally take a deep breath of air, leaning your head against Chris's shoulder as he hands rub shapes on your back.
"It's okay, baby, you're stressing yourself out. It'll be okay." He whispers as he stands up and pulls you up with him.
He embraces you once again as you sniffle into his hoodie. You pull back and wipe your face aggressively, laughing quietly.
Chris cups your face, wiping your tears before pressing a kiss so soft, it was almost ghostlike, on your lips. You smile at him.
"Thank you, baby." You say rubbing his bicep in appreciation. He smiles down at you, kissing your forehead. "Of course, baby. I love you. Are you ready?"
You nod, and Chris opens the door, hand in yours as you all walk back into the dining room. Most conversations continued, but you noticed your dad and mom talking quietly amongst themselves, and it didn't look pleasant.
Your dad's eyes shoot to yours as he chuckles darkly.
Fuck. This can't end well.
"And what the fuck were you two doing?"
You smile, trying to swallow your fear. You notice Chris squeeze your hand, and you squeezed back in reassurance.
"Just had to take a breather. It's all good now, though, don't worry." You say as you and Chris sit down. You hope it's enough to satisfy your dad's curiosity, but unfortunately it's not.
"So you and him didn't just fuck in the bathroom." You freeze. Every conversation stops immediately at those words, as he wasn't quiet about it.
"What- dad, no. Why would you say that?" You sputter as a pink hue comes over your face. You glance at Chris, who's just as shocked as you.
"Sir, I'd never do that, especially here." Chris says calmly, but you can tell that one comment pissed him off completely.
Your dad stares at you both as a silence covers the room like a weighted blanket. Just when the tension seems to reach its peak, your dad speaks up.
"Good. Now, let's eat." He says, passing the food to you.
Jesus, this is gonna be a long night.
______________________________
Part 2 is coming soon.
@sturnioloblogs @y0urm4m @sturniolosmind @thenickgirl @muwapsturniolo @matthewsmocktailss-deactivated2 @breeloveschris @worldlxvlys @freshloveforthefit @miloisdone1 @vanteguccir @annamcdonalds67 @freshsturns @rootbeerworshiper @matty-bear @orangelala
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sunny44 · 4 months
Text
The exes club
Pairing: Max Verstappen x ex!reader, ex wags x fem!reader
Warnings: ex wags.
Summary: Where all the ex wags are best friends.
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Yourusername instagram post
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Liked by @maxverstappen, @isahernáez, @charlottesiine, @luisinhaoliveira, @elenaberri, @katerinaberezhna and other 174829
Yourusername the exes club is reunited again
Ps: for sure the best part of ours relationship
Tagged: @isahernáez, @charlottesiine, @luisinhaoliveira, @elenaberri, @katerinaberezhna
Isahernáez I miss this so much
Yourusername and I missed you
Luisinhaoliveira love you babes
Yourusername love you more girlfriend
Maxverstappen I can see you’re having fun
Liked by Yourusername
Love4wags I love that the best wags are bestfriends
Mv33fan I miss y/n and Max together
User81 I hate the fact that y/n explicitly say that she doesn’t like the current wag
F1lovelywags
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Model Y/n Y/L/N talking about the comments of her not liking the new wags.
Y/n was Max Verstappen's girlfriend until a few months ago when they decided to end their relationship.
She and the other ex-WAGs were often seen together in the paddock during race weekends, emphasizing that they were and still are best friends.
Fans are now commenting on her latest post, suggesting that she dislikes the new WAGs just because she shared that she and the other exes were out having fun.
Yourusername instagram stories
“It’s race weekend”
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I was invited to attend the weekend in Monza.
It had been a while since I attended any races; it lost its appeal after Max and I broke up. We decided it was for the best, as my modeling career consumed all my time, just like his racing career did to him.
We no longer had time for each other, and it was driving us apart. So, the best decision for both of us was to take a break, which ultimately led to the end.
But here I was again, at a race, hoping everything would go well without any stress.
"Excuse me, Miss Y/L/N." I turned around to see someone from SKY Sports. "Could you give a brief interview?"
"Of course," I agreed, controlling to not roll my eyes as giving interviews was the last thing I wanted to do today.
"We saw your statement in your latest YouTube video regarding the comments on your posts. Do you have anything to declare?"
"As I said in the video, I'm not obligated to like anyone, even if that's what fans think. I don't personally know any of the girls, so the comments are unfounded, defamatory, and malicious," I said, looking into the camera. "I've always been friends with the other girls, and our friendship might have started here due to our ex-boyfriends working in the same field. But our friendship goes beyond that, so the fact that these so-called fans are bothered by something so trivial truly amazes me. Once again, I have nothing against anyone, so I ask you to stop trying to portray me as the villain just because you don't like me."
"Very well, thank you Y/n, for your words," I agreed and left.
I continued walking, stopped for a coffee, and on my way back, Daniel waved at me.
"Y/n, long time no see."
"Hi, Dani," I hugged him. "How are you?"
"Good, and you?"
"Good too, just the usual dramas."
"I saw; people don't have much sense.”
"Don't even talk about it. I don't know where people get this rivalry. It's not like I said anything about them in the post."
"Don't worry about it. Fans are just jealous because all of you dated who they wanted. The girls are getting hate now for dating them."
"Yeah, tell me about it," I sighed. "It's terrible for all of us. Max and I aren't even dating anymore, and people still hassle me."
"I can imagine. Heidi sometimes shows me some comments, and they're pretty nasty."
"Well, I need to go, but good luck in the race," I waved. Passing in front of the Red Bull garage, I was pulled inside, and when I saw, I was in Max's driver's room. "What the hell is this?"
"I wanted to see you," he said simply.
"And did you need to pull me in like you were kidnapping me?"
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you and I wanted as few people as possible to see."
"Why? Are you ashamed?"
"Of course not." He stared at me. "How are you?"
"Look, you didn't pull me in here to ask how I am, and I know it was your idea to invite me, even though you tried really hard to make it seem like it wasn't," I said, and he looked at the floor. "So tell me, why so much effort to bring me here?"
"Because I wanted to talk to you."
"You could have called me or sent a message."
"I know, but I needed to say this in person," I agreed and sat on his bed.
"All right, I'm listening."
"I wanted to apologize for my fans. I heard about what happened with your last post, and I didn’t wanted you to go through all this because of me."
"It's not your fault."
"Are you sure? The fans are mine."
"It doesn't matter; they're not your real fans if they're such nasty people," he agreed. "It's okay."
Max sighed, briefly averting his gaze before fixing it back on mine.
"Y/n, I need to be honest about the other reason I brought you here," I nodded, encouraging him to continue. "I still love you, more than I can admit. Seeing you dealing with all this pressure and drama made me realize that, even with everything that happened between us, I can't just let you go. Not again."
My heart raced, and a smile formed on my face.
"Max, I feel the same way. I think, deep down, we never stopped loving each other. Maybe it's time to give what we had a second chance."
He smiled back, sincerity reflected in his eyes.
"Y/n, I just want to do this the right way, without rushing, and make sure we're both ready." I nodded, feeling a profound sense of relief.
"I'm willing to give it a try, Max. After all, what do we have to lose?"
And in the end, I guess I put an end to the exes club.
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Bonus scene!
Yourusername instagram stories
“Ops, I guess the exes club is over for me”
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mochinomnoms · 4 months
Note
Thinking about how scary people find the "non-traditional" looking merfolk like the tweels and Azul only to remember the mermaids in Peter Pan were straight up trying to kill Wendy and now I'm chewing on the walls thinking about Azul or the Tweels saving Yuu from some mermaids who "were only trying to drown her <3". Just the idea of the "traditionally beautiful" mermaids actually being a lot more fucked up, despite the reputation they got from The Little Mermaid/Mermaid Princess. Or something, I'm rambling.
Imagine going to the beach with the octotrio, the twins specifically wanting to swim with you in the water. But they get distracted trying to drag a still human Azul into the water, pleading for him to turn into his merform too!
Eventually, they manage to drag a screaming Azul into the water, bubbles slowly dissipating as they take him further in. Imagine your surprise when a lovely, blonde mermaid and purple haired merman pop out almost immediately after.
They look harmless, especially compared to the twins and Azul. They look like an average reef merperson, like the Mermaid Princess. Their tails match their eyes, pink and violet, as they playfully splash you. It seems pretty harmless at first, they look pretty young after all, but then the merman starts pulling at your leg, asking you to join him in the water with a smile and lead-eye stare.
The mermaid swiped your sandals, swimming further into the water where you can't reach as she beckons you to come after her. Don't you want your shoes back? They get visibly annoyed when you don't follow into their whims, trying to hop away from the stone you're at and back to shore. That's when the mermaid starts to tug you by your bottoms, asking why you won't play with her. The merman starts to do the same, giggling at your panic-stricken face.
They're tearing the hem of your bottom as you struggle to get out of their grasp. Up until you slip on the slick rock and fall into the water. The two start to swim circles around you, now full on laughing, as they drag you further into the water by your feet.
“Relax, I just wanna see if humans really do get red when they drown, huh?”
The merman giggled as he replied to his companion, “Yeah! We only want to drown you a little bit, why so scared? Is it cause you might die? How funny!”
“Ha!” The mermaid cackled as she swam up to curl her tail around you, grabbing your face to stare you in the eyes as you started to lose consciousness.
“Yeah! Don't worry, I hear that dead humans float back up, so you'll get to go back home…soon…”
Horror fell over her pretty face as she looked behind your drowning form. The surrounding turned darker, colder, as a large black and purple tentacle slowly reached from behind you to pull you from her grasp. She and her friend both shrieked at the sight of a giant octomer curling his arms around you protectively, an inhuman hiss, followed by a growl, reverberating through Azul's chest. From behind him, two glowing teal morays giggled as Jade and Floyd both chased after the two merfolk who were now begging for mercy. After all, the twins were a good 3 feet larger than them.
Azul is cooing at you as he brings you back up to the surface, though you can hear the crunch of what sounds like ribs breaking, a shriek, and Floyd's unique cackle. You leave that knowledge behind you as you gasp for air upon breaching the surface. You're clutching at Azul like he's your lifeline, murmuring for him to not leave you. Which Azul agrees to.
The twins come back up a few minutes later, Jade digging something fleshy from his teeth while Floyd offers you a lock of purple hair, which still had a bit of scalp on it. You thanked him, but refused the hair, to which Floyd shrugged and tossed it behind him. The three of you spent the rest of your time in the shallow end of the water, three mermen curled protectively over you.
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irisintheafterglow · 9 months
Text
coparenting!megumi with satoru where one of you gets lost after school supply shopping it's not the actual child that gets lost
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"megs, where's satoru?"
"i thought he was with you."
"that's a problem, then, because he hasn't been with me for the past ten minutes." you plop down next to him, sliding your sunglasses to the top of your head and taking in the busy park in front of you. the weather was comfortable today, cool enough that you weren't sweating but warm enough to have megumi's ice cream dripping down the cone toward his little fingers. you wordlessly hand him a napkin and he takes it without looking at you, continuing to observe the people throwing around a frisbee or having a picnic in the sunshine. there was a playground on the other side of the field and you could vaguely make out the blurry forms of children running about. "you can go play, if you want. i can stay and watch the stuff."
"i don't really want to," he replies. "i like sitting here with you." the corner of your mouth turns up into a smile. he was barely big enough for his legs to touch the ground and he absentmindedly kicked his feet back and forth under the bench. "do we need to go anywhere else today?"
"i don't think so, no. i think we got everything that you'll need for next week." he nods in assent and the toes of his shoes brush against the plastic grocery bags holding his new school supplies.
you could tell megumi was excited, in his own quiet way, when the car pulled into the parking lot of the store. as much as he acted as the bane of satoru's existence, you knew he liked spending time with both of you. you stopped satoru with a gentle hand on his shoulder when his lanky legs ran for a cart, gesturing toward megumi heading down the first aisle, basket in hand. you barely had to do anything for most of the trip; at most, you'd remind the boy of a specific type of pencil or notebook he needed and provide feedback if he was split between two different designs. any additions by satoru were pointedly ignored by the boy unless they were reiterated by you. "if you need anything else, just let satoru know and he'll bring it to your school."
"you can't drop it off instead?"
"i know i usually do, but i have an assignment that's sending me out of town. you'll have to make do with your esteemed mentor for a bit." you smirk and nudge his shoulder with your elbow, chuckling softly when he frowns. it was a little funny, seeing a child have the expression of a businessman desperately waiting for retirement. "what is it, megs?"
"he scares all my teachers." you choke on the sip you take from your bottle, jolting forward and laugh-coughing your way to normal breathing again. it didn't surprise you, what megumi said; it was the incredibly straightforward, slightly amused note in his voice that had water going down the wrong pipes. "i'm serious. whenever you're visiting, people always gush about how well you take care of me."
"and when satoru comes around?"
"they hide." a prideful noise escapes your throat and the two of you have identical smirks as you sit on the bench. your eyes carefreely scan the field for any bright white hair or screams of commotion that could indicate your boyfriend's presence, but there are no such things. nonetheless, you're not worried. he always found his way back to you somehow.
at least, that's what you think.
you feel the telltale buzz-buzz-buzz of your phone in your back pocket and roll your eyes when you see the caller id.
"hello?"
"i'm lost."
"mmm, poor baby," you deadpan, glancing at megumi to see a small smile on his face.
"aren't you going to come find me?" his voice is teasingly playful, implying that he disappeared on purpose just for the hell of it.
"i'm not playing hide and seek with you, satoru. just come back to the ice cream cart."
"but it's so much more fun if you come get me instead," he argues, his voice slightly too insistent for you to think that he's joking. he better be kidding.
"satoru."
"okay, fine. i actually don't know where the hell i am." he is not kidding.
you sigh, standing and taking megumi's hand. "just retrace your steps, sweetheart." you stand and walk a random direction in hopes that your navigationally-challenged boyfriend would find his way to you. the plastic handle of the store bag digs into the crook of your elbow as you continue to hold the phone up to your ear. "can you describe your surroundings?"
"uh, trees."
"those are everywhere, satoru. we're in a park." you can't help the giggle that escapes your lips towards the tail end of your sentence. the irony of the most powerful human on earth being lost in a park was priceless. "any specific monuments or something that i can head to?"
"there's a big field-"
"again, baby, this is a park. look, i'm just gonna do the thing. if you can't find us from that, you might need to rethink your career choice." megumi stifles a snicker from next to you and you abruptly hang up, cutting off the distorted protests blaring from your phone. you have a seat on the grass and megumi mirrors your position, taking your hand when you offer it to him. "just like we practiced, okay?" he sighs impatiently, but you knew it wasn't you he was irritated with. "alright, i'll go first and then you add on to me, yeah?"
stretching your neck from side to side, you close your eyes and slowly channel more cursed energy until it engulfs your entire body. soon, you feel megumi's faint but determined aura bump against yours. after less than a minute, instinct tells you that satoru received your beacon and you look over your shoulder to see him strolling casually across the lawn. he's tall enough that, when he finally stands above you and megumi, he blocks out most of the sun. you can barely see his eyes, but you know he can see the exasperation on your face. he merely beams at you like you produced the oxygen he was breathing.
"found you."
"took you long enough." he effortlessly pulls you up from the ground and you stumble, nearly slamming into his chest. "where did you end up going, anyway?"
"there's an old daycare center towards the back of the park. sensed something there and wanted to kill it before it bothered us," he explains, humming when you brush your fingers over the fabric covering his eyes. he delicately takes your hand and presses light kisses to your knuckles, so dotingly you'd think either of you had just come back from war. you're about to kiss him properly when a small voice clears its throat some ways below you. your face heats, suddenly remembering megumi is still there.
"are we ready to go, or should i give you two a few minutes?" satoru's jaw drops in indignancy.
"watch it, megs, or i'm gonna have satoru be the one dropping off all of your things during the school year." your hand ruffles the black spikes of his hair and he pouts.
"please don't."
"wait, what's wrong with me bringing your things?" megumi exhales tiredly like he'd clocked out of his 9-5 and walks ahead to the parking lot. you and satoru lag behind, his arm wrapped around your waist and matching his steps with yours.
"i'll explain in the car. will you be able to find it okay, lost child?" you raise your eyebrows patronizingly, putting on your best doe-eyed gaze. he scoffs, but you're not done making fun of him just yet. "whatever shall i do if you were to suddenly disappear? i may be forced to find another...suitor." you bat your eyelashes dramatically and you can see his eyes rolling behind his blindfold.
"ha, ha. very funny." his hands ever so slightly squeeze the flesh around your hip and you jump. "now i know how it feels when i start reciting shakespeare over minor inconveniences." you laugh and melt a little when his thumb draws apologetic little circles on your waist. god, he's so in love with you.
"i'm surprised you didn't start monologuing on the phone. it worried me."
"you don't ever need to worry about finding me because i'll always come back."
"you promise?"
"on the moon and the stars."
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prompt is from @youneedsomeprompts because coparenting megumi inspiration comes and goes from my mind like an endangered species :))
hope you enjoyed ! likes, reblogs, and feedback are always appreciated <3
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darkbluekies · 2 months
Note
Just a fluff piece with Hedwig taking care of sick Reader? Can be gender neutral
I'm never going away
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Yandere!richgirl x reader
Summary: Hedwig takes care of her darling who's sick♡
Warnings: none, I believe
Word count: 2.7k
You sigh heavily and lean your head on Hedwig’s shoulder. The teacher’s voice feels like needles. Your head is pounding. It’s only the second class of the day, and you’re already over it.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Hedwig whispers and pets your head. “Are you tired?”
“I don’t feel very well”, you mumble and hide your burning, pounding forehead into her shoulder. “I have a headache, and I’m shivering. It feels like I’m going to be sick.”
“Lunch is in twenty minutes, don’t worry, sweetheart. I will take notes for you, you don’t have to listen anymore.”
She picks out her pink pen case and starts to scribble down in her notebook. You want to fall asleep, but you’re scared that the teacher will scold you. Instead, you try to hold out to the break by drinking water from Hedwig’s fancy water bottle. She has a pink bottle decorated with charms that you picked out. 
“I feel like my throat is getting sore”, you whisper. 
“You’re feeling worse?” Hedwig whispers with worried eyes. She hurries to feel your forehead and gasps. “I need to take you home, darling.”
She takes your hand in hers and tells you to hold out. The second the lesson ends, she throws all of her things into her Prada bag. She hooks her arm in yours, pulling you up on your feet. You’re dragged out to the corridor where Hedwig sits you down on one of the hard benches that stand along the wall. 
“I’ll call my chauffeur and you’ll go home, okay, sweetheart?” she says and cups your cheeks. “I have that math test … if I miss it, I’ll fail the course. I have to stay here.”
“I’m cold”, you mumble and pull the blazer of your school uniform closer to your body. 
Hedwig twists the cap of the water bottle open and holds it out to you so that you can sip on the water while she calls her chauffeur, telling him to come and get you. The water helps with your sore throat, but it’s not near enough to make you feel better. After Hedwig has called her driver, she sits down beside you, taking your hot, heavy head in her hands and kissing wherever she can reach. 
“You’re going to be okay, my dear”, she reassures you. “You just need to go home and rest.”
“Can’t I go home to my house instead?” you ask. 
She twitches. “No! I-I mean … you should go home to me, so that I can take care of you later.”
You decide not to argue against her. You’re in no shape to do that anyway. She holds you close, letting you lean against her. You have started to shiver by now. 
“It’s going to be okay”, she whispers and kisses your temple. “You’re going to get to rest very soon.”
When her chauffeur finally comes, you’re helped out to the car and placed in the backseat. Hedwig pulls the seatbelt tightly over your body and kisses your cheek. 
“I’ll be home in about two hours”, she says. “Make sure to get some rest. Tell the chef that you want soup, okay? You have to tell him. And if you need anything, let the chauffeur know so that he can buy it for you. Promise me.”
You nod tiredly. Hedwig gives you one last, sad, smile before closing the door and watching you disappear throughout the gates. Damn that fucking math test. 
The chauffeur helps you up the stairs as you enter the georgian mansion. Your legs give up halfway and you almost crash into the stairs. The chauffeur grabs you quickly. 
“Sorry”, you whisper. 
“Don’t be”, he says. 
He leaves you on Hedwig’s bed and asks if there is something he can get you. You shake your head. Even if you did need something, you still feel weird asking random people to get it for you. the few times you’ve done that, you’ve offered to pay but they’ve always turned it down. You’re not Hedwig, you aren’t used to having a dozen people do things for you. You have your own two hands and legs and are fully capable of doing things yourself. 
“Should I get you some medicine?” the chauffeur asks. “I’m sure miss Hedwig would like it if I do.”
You give up, your head aching too much to discuss what you do or don’t need. You agree to him buying the medicine. As soon as he leaves, you change into your pajamas and tuck yourself in, hugging Hedwig’s teddy bear. Just as you’re about to fall asleep, there's a faint knock on the door. You pry your eyes open slightly to see the chef sneak in. 
“What should I do for you?” he asks. 
“Hedwig recommended soup”, you mumble. 
“In that case I will make soup.”
He disappears again. You fall asleep within minutes and doesn’t notice when the chef comes in with steaming carrot soup, or when the chauffeur comes with the medicine. You first wake up when Hedwig leaves kisses over your face.
“I’m sorry for waking you, sweetheart”, she whispers apologetically, caressing your face. “But I got worried. You haven’t touched the soup or the medicine at all.” She feels your forehead softly. “Have you taken your temperature yet?”
“I have been sleeping”, you explain and cough loudly. 
Hedwig furrows her brows worriedly and helps you sit up. She smiles as she sees you hugging her teddy. You cough again and she caresses your hair, looking as worried as if you'd have cut your arm off. She feeds you the medicine and strokes your hair. With careful hands, she lifts the cold bowl of soup in her hands, feeling around. Her golden rings clinks against the ceramic.
“I will heat it up for you”, she smiles and picks up the TV remote. “What do you want to watch? Not The fox and the hound, you cry when the fox is let out into the forest.”
“Who doesn't? You do too!”
“Yes, I know. What I mean is that you shouldn't be watching such sad things when you're sick. How about something else?”
She finds a movie for you to watch and lets it play while she takes the bowl of soup and walks out of the door. You hug Hedwig’s teddy closer to your burning — yet freezing — body. In these vulnerable times, you want nothing more than to go home to your own house, and lay in your own bed … and have your mom prepare food for you. But Hedwig wouldn’t allow it. Just being away from her for a day causes her to panic. You’re her oxygen and without you, she suffocates. And yet she suffocates you with her smothering love. But you can’t bring yourself to break up with her, because you can’t bring yourself too, maybe you don’t want to. It’s always you and her, two together, and you don’t know what you would do without her. Even though you’re with one of the most popular girls in school, none of the other kids seem to take an interest in you. Hedwig is the only one that likes you … and gosh, does she like you. You have never met someone that takes care of you like she does. She puts everything aside for you. Weirdly enough, you feel like she is supposed to be the one everyone drops things for. She’s wealthy and important, and a lot of people do a lot for wealthy and important people. Sometimes you find yourself questioning her existence, because when you’re with each other, she never lets you see her as the person everyone else talks about. To you, she’s just Hedwig, a sweet girl you’re in love with. And to her, you’re her entire existence. 
“Here you go!” Hedwig smiles and walks in with the bowl. “It’s extremely hot, so please be careful.”
She places the bowl in your hands. You enjoy the heat. Hedwig feeds you with a proud smile on her face. She makes sure that you eat it all, even if you feel like throwing up by the end of it. 
“How are you feeling now?” she asks softly.
“I feel like I'm dying”, you try to joke, but quickly realize that Hedwig’s not in the mood for jokes.
“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better? Do you want anything? A warm bath? A nap? Something else to eat?”
“I just want to sleep.”
“Okay … we can do that!”
She creeps down under the covers and holds you tight to her. Usually, she is the one wanting to be held and squeezed. She hugs you tightly and rests her head on yours. Her hands plays with your hair. 
“I hate to see you sick, my love”, she whispers. “I wish that I could take your pain away. You’re so warm.”
“I’m freezing”, you whisper. 
She takes your hands between hers and blow hot air. 
“I kind of want to bite your fingers”, she giggles quietly and takes a small nibble on your index finger. 
She giggles and is quick to wipe away any saliva with her sleeve and apologize. Without waiting, she continues to blow hot air on your hands.  
The two of you rest together and you eventually fall asleep. Hedwig stays awake, holding you in her arms.
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You wake up drenched in sweat. The medicine seem to be working. 
“What’s wrong?” Hedwig asks and sits up. “Are you feeling worse?”
“No, I’m sweating like crazy”, you respond. 
“Then your fever should have gone down — at least for now. That’s good.”
“I’m drenched.”
“Do you want to take a bath? I can fix it for you.”
You dozily look around for a clock. “What time is it?”
“Almost dinner time. I’ve told the chef to make us some chicken noodle soup, some good toasts and prepare some nice tea.” She caresses your cheek. “Does that sound good, sweetheart?”
You nod with a small, thankful smile, even if you’re not the slightest hungry — on the contrary actually, you’re almost nauseous. Hedwig smiles as well and jumps up from the bed, runs out of the room. You cough into your arm and sniffle and hug her teddy, waiting for her to return. The pain killer have wiped away the fever for now, but it will come back eventually. 
“Y/N”, Hedwig says from the door. “It’s done.”
You drag yourself up from the bed and move over to the door. Hedwig takes your hand and leads your barely alive form to the bathroom. You remove your drenched pajamas and sink down under the fluffy bubbles covering the water's surface. Hedwig smiles and sits down on the floor beside the big tub, hugging her legs close to her chest with a soft smile.
“I don't like it when you're sick but I'm glad that I can take care of you”, she says and sighs. “I don't understand why people go to school even though they're clearly not well. Everyone else has to pay for it.” 
“Most people can't afford missing school”, you say.
“But it's not about money”, she says in confusion.
“I'm talking about time, not money.”
“Oh. Imagine how convenient it would be if you could buy time. You and I would live for a long time.”
“And without me you'd be immortal.”
She goes white. “No, don't say that! I wouldn't want to live forever if I didn't have you. Don't say such things. Gives me nightmares.”
You smile sluggishly. 
“It’s not funny”, Hedwig scolds you sadly. “I don’t want to live a single second without you.”
“I know”, you say and change your smile to a more comforting one, than a teasingly, to calm her nerves before she started panicking and locking herself in her own thoughts. 
“I will get sick now too”, she suddenly says and blushes. “But it’s okay, I don’t mind getting sick if it’s from you.”
You start to cough and Hedwig hurries to pat your back. In frustration over feeling like a walking zombie, you hide your face into your hands.
“It’s okay”, she comforts you. “You’re going to be okay. It’s just temporary, sweetheart.”
“I fucking hate being sick”, you mumble in a whine. 
“I know, I know. B-But isn’t the warm water helping?”
“A bit. I’m not freezing, and it’s a little easier to breathe, but I still feel … heavy and trespassed.”
“Trespassed?” 
“It’s like something is living in my body … and I want it out.”
Hedwig pets your head. “It will disappear but you need to give it time, darling. Now, should I wash your hair for you?”
Without waiting for an answer, she cups her hands into the bubbles and pours the water over your hair, making sure not to get it in your face.
“I’m sorry that you have to take care of me like a child”, you apologize. 
“I will always take care of you”, she says calmly. 
“I have a test next week … I hope I’m well before that.”
“You will be. But if you aren’t, you shouldn’t go. I won’t allow that. In fact, I don’t think that you should leave the bed at all until you’re well. I will help you with everything.”
“You have to go to school. Both of us can’t miss or we’ll both fall behind.”
“My friends will take notes. I will stay with you. I will take care of you.”
You wonder if she wants to stay home because she actually wants to take care of you … or if she can’t bear to spend time apart from you. You know how paranoid she gets every time she can’t cling onto you. You’re like her lifeline. 
“Who … do you think it was that made you sick?” Hedwig asks as she carefully massages your scalp with a floral scented shampoo.
“I don't know”, you reply. “Maybe that Eric Nelson boy? He coughed the entire week.”
“How inconsiderate. I should talk to him-”
“Don’t be like that. I’m sure he had his reasons for coming to school even if he’s sick.”
You cough again. Hedwig opens her mouth to say something, but closes it again and continues to massage your scalp with the bubbly shampoo. She continues to wash you until you’re squeaky clean. You’re tucked into the bed once again with Hedwig measuring up pain killers for your fever. The chef sneaks into the room with the chicken noodle soup and your heart sinks. You’re not the slightest hungry, but you’re unsure if you have the energy to fight Hedwig about that. But if you eat, you’ll most likely throw up or explode. So carefully, you try to eat a few spoonfuls. She watches you intensely. You wish that she could look away, just for a second so that you could breathe. 
“Are you okay?” Hedwig asks worriedly. “Do you need to lay down? Do you feel worse? Should i get something for-”
“No, I’m good”, you say, poking around in the soup with your spoon. “Just not very hungry.”
“You need to eat. Here, let me help you.”
Before you have the chance to say something, she has started to feed you again, just like she did before. Her hazel eyes glow with worry. 
“Hedwig, I will throw up if I eat too much”, you say. 
“Do we need to go to the hospital?” she almost stutters. 
“No, I just need to do this in my own pace. I don’t want more for now.”
“A-Are you sure?”
“Sure.”
She sighs, gives you one final look and then nods, giving up. Hedwig takes the bowl out of your hands and tucks you in again, making sure that you won’t be able to use your arms. She holds her hand on your warm forehead before letting her hand travel down to your cheek, caressing it gently.
“You’re so precious to me”, she whispers seriously. “I wish that I could take your pain away from you, I wish that you never had to feel any pain at all.” Hedwig kisses your forehead. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m never going away, you’ll never have to be alone.”
She looks so sweet, talks so sweet … and yet you can’t help but shiver and let your eyes wander off to the window … and gaze at the trees swaying free in the wind.
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puckbunnyera · 3 months
Text
New Friend | Luke Hughes
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• ──────────────♡────────────── •
genre: fluff (?)
word count: 1.3k
warnings: none
notes: first time writing on this account. will probably end up taking this down or heavily editing as my writing progresses because I'm not sure if I like this one. we'll see 🤷🏽‍♀️.
update: link to part 2 here
• ──────────────♡────────────── •
The smell of sweat, alcohol, and cigarette smoke overwhelms my senses as I sit at a booth in the corner of an overcrowded bar that my two best friends have dragged me to in Newark. Nausea swirls in my stomach at the sight of all the intoxicated bodies dancing and stumbling around me. After accompanying them to an intense hockey game between the New Jersey Devils and Chicago Blackhawks, ending with a 4-2 win for the Devils, they had decided that the success of their favorite team called for a celebration.
Not much of a party person, I decide to hang back at a table and keep watch of their belongings while they leave to go dance the night away amongst the other drunk people who litter the bar. To ease the anxious feeling in my chest, I pull my phone from my crossbody bag and open up my Kindle app. I choose the book I have recently been invested in, and I quickly become immersed in it. I'm not sure how much time passes by but I'm just reaching a really intense part in the storyline when a male voice grabs my attention.
"Do you mind if I sit here?"
Lifting my gaze from my phone screen, I meet with the gaze of a very handsome stranger. Shyness begins to take over as I realize that he's talking to me. My words leave me as I continue to stare at the guy in front of me. My lack of response must come off as apprehension because he quickly begins to apologize.
"Sorry if I scared you." He starts. "The bar is pretty packed and all of the tables are full. My friends ditched me to join the crowd and I'm not really a fan of these types of outings."
"It's fine," I reply as words finally find their way into my brain and out of my mouth. "I don't mind." I gesture to the empty seat at the other side of the booth.
"Cool." He nods, sitting down. "I'm Luke, by the way."
"Y/n." I respond. "Nice to meet you."
"I like your jersey." He refers to the Devil's apparel that I'm still wearing from the game I'd attended earlier in the night.
"Uh, thanks." A blush rises to my cheeks at the unexpected compliment. "It was the first jersey I saw in my size at the fan shop so I bought it."
"I'm assuming you're not a Devil's fan, then."
"Not really." I shrug. "My friends are though. I don't know much about hockey, but they love it. They convinced me to go watch the game with them tonight hence why I bought the jersey. What about you?"
"Kinda have to be considering I play for the team." He responds nonchalantly. His words leave me a little stunned and a lot confused.
"I can't tell if you're lying or not."
"I'm serious." He chuckles. "In fact, that's my last name and number you're wearing right now. Look me up if you don't believe me. Luke Hughes, number 43, of the New Jersey Devils. I won't be offended."
I do just that after picking up my phone from the table from where I had previously abandoned it after he made his appearance. Looking through the Google results, I realize that everything he just said is true.
"Okay, so you are telling the truth. But why would you just openly admit that to me? Aren't you worried that I might run off and tell everyone in the bar that I'm talking to The Luke Hughes? Or post it on the internet or something?"
"No." He shakes his head. "Call me naive, but I don't think that's the type of person you are."
"What makes you so sure?"
"Instinct or whatever you call it." He shrugs, a goofy grin on his face.
"What's it like, being on the ice? It seemed intense, and I was only watching it. I can't even begin to imagine what it must feel like to play."
"It is intense, but I love it." He replies honestly. "I always have."
We continue to talk back and forth for what seems like forever. Taking turns to ask each other questions and sharing random stories that have us laughing, almost to the point of tears. At one point during the conversation, he moves to sit on my side of the booth so he can show me a video of his brother falling off of a board while wake-surfing at their lake house in Michigan. He's in the middle of telling the story of the time he almost had to go streaking across his college campus when he's interrupted by a noticeably drunk man, a few others following behind him as he approaches the table.
"Lukey!" He exclaims loudly, making me laugh as he wraps an arm around the shoulders of a flustered Luke. "We've been looking everywhere for you."
"Who's your friend?" Another man questions as they file into the booth seat. The one embracing look shoves us over to sit on our side.
"I'm Y/n." I introduce myself.
"Nico." He greets me before pointing to the other men at the table. "That's Dawson, John, and-"
"And I'm Jack." The loud one from before interrupts. "I'm Lukey Pookies older brother." He lifts a hand and teasingly pinches Lukes cheek.
"My very drunk older brother." Luke huffs in annoyance and swats Jack's hand away.
"Nice to meet you." I giggle as the brothers begin to bicker.
As casual conversation begins amongst the group that has formed at the table, Luke scoots closer to where our shoulders and thighs lightly brush against each other with every slight movement and he leans in to whisper in my ear.
"Sorry about them." He smiles sheepishly when I turn towards him.
"Don't worry about it." I assure him. "They seem fun." He nods before turning to join the conversation.
It's nearing two in the morning when Nico, who seems to be the only sober one in the group aside from Luke, announces that it's time for them to head home. There are a few groans of disappointment, which Nico ignores as he begins to pull them from their seats. After they say their goodbyes and begin to walk away, Luke turns towards me.
"I know this is probably weird, and feel free to say no, but I was wondering if I could get your number." He questions, shyness washing over him. "This is the first time in what feels like a long time that I've been able to have a conversation with anyone, let alone a girl, whose intentions aren't to take advantage of my fame or status to influence their own. I would really like to get to know you more. As a friend, of course."
"Of course. I'm always down to make a new friend." I smile, a fluttering sensation forming in my chest as I take his phone and add my contact. A few seconds after handing it back, my own phone buzzes.
"I just texted you so now you have mine. I have to go but text me when you get home, so I know you made it safely."
He seems to hesitate for a few seconds, as if trying to make up his mind about something, before he leans in a brushes his lips softly against my cheek. When his face is visible again, he is sporting a bright red blush, mine surely looking the same if the warmth in my cheeks says anything. He says goodbye quickly before turning to run after his friends who are whooping and hollering, having seen the whole thing. I smile to myself as I gather mine and my friends, a giddy feeling running through every fiber of my being. I make it only a few feet from the table when I almost run into my friends, both standing in front of me, with shocked expressions on their faces.
"Tell us everything!" They exclaim as they each grab one of my arms and begin to pull me out of the bar.
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cosmal · 1 year
Note
✪ — sender  is  found  drunk  by  receiver, ❛ i just wanted to make sure you’re okay. ❜
tequila makes me sleepy
summary — pete comes to find you at a party after you call him.
content — tasm!peter parker x fem!afab!reader, drunk!reader, metnions of gross guys sexualizing reader
Peter doesn't have his mask on. He's been swinging about Queens trying to find the party you're at and he hasn't thought about how he's recognisable the entire time.
He thinks about how tired you'd sounded on the phone. How you'd begged him to stay on the phone so you wouldn't fall asleep. Thinking about it more makes him panicky, but he can't help it.
"Tequila makes me sleepy, Parker."
"Yeah? Where are you, honey?"
"Some party. Stay on the phone? Don't wanna fall asleep."
Eventually, he finds the party. In the back of his dizzy mind, he remembers you mentioning it on Tuesday when you were over at his apartment. He remembers how excited you were about it and how upset you were because he wasn't coming.
He lands in the alley beside the building and wastes no time in pushing through the front door. He stands in the front entranceway and starts to get frustrated. Most of the time, he hates his enhanced senses. Even more so right now because he can't hear you.
He blames it on the crowd. There are way too many people here for him to be focusing on just one. But it's you. He knows more about you than he does himself and he can't fucking hear you. He hopes that he's too overwhelmed. The reason why he can't hear you. Not because you've left and you're somewhere, drunk and unsafe, where he can't find you.
"Hey," he grabs the arm of some drunk guy, "where's the bedroom?"
Pointing down to the left with a wobbly arm, "Down that hall," he slurs.
Peter doesn't say thank you. He drops his arm and heads In that direction. Avoiding PDA and more rowdy drunk guys.
The relief he feels when he pushes open the door only lasts a few moments. He finds you, on your stomach with your face smooshed against your arm, asleep. Your sparkly dress rides up your legs to reveal enough bare skin to make Peter feel uncomfortable. He's grateful he's here right now.
The mattress dips down where he sits down by your head, and can't help himself from pushing your messy hair from your face.
Your lips parted, you wrinkle up your face when you start to rouse. Peter is selfish with his hands, squeezing at the fat of your shoulder, running a knuckle down your soft cheek. Slowly, you come to, blinking away your fatigue. Peter, and he's super sorry for it, thinks you're adorable.
"Hello," he says softly. He doesn't know why, but he feels guilty for waking you.
"Peter," you say, lips sticking together with blotchy gloss, "Pete, hey." This time when you say it, it's just understandable. He appreciates the fond hum to your words nonetheless.
"Hey," he says and pushes his thumb into your cheek. You groan because he's a nuisance but he doesn't care because you're okay.
You sit up on your elbows and he can tell you're trying not to wobble. He wants to stable you but doesn't know how to in your position. You seem as dizzy as he'd expect because you always are when drunk. You have the scars on your knees to prove it.
"What are you doing here?" you mumble, scratching at your face with a flippancy he hates.
He catches your hand and rubs your face for you. Gently, because he's not mean, he smooths the back of his hand down your cheek and pushes his fingers over your eyebrow and into your hair.
"Just wanted to make sure you were okay," he tells you. "You sounded bad on the phone, honey."
"Shit, I'm," you hiccup and he panics for a moment. "Shit I'm sorry, Pete, I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's okay," he says honestly. You did scare him but it's okay now because it was reasonable. And you're okay.
You sit up and swing your legs over the edge of the bed and he stables you with a hand on the bottom of your back. Pulling your dress down your legs, he frowns when you shiver.
"You cold?" he worries.
Nodding, you clearly regret it with a groan. "A little. This dress is horrible."
"You think?"
"Yeah, it's itchy and-" you're hiccuping some more and he hopes you don't make yourself sick, "it's too small. The guys here- they, they're gross."
Peter goes rigid. "They didn't do anything did they?"
You shake your head and there's a timidness to you that Pete wants to capture and keep forever. You, an image, rumpled clothes and droopy eyes. Despite how worried he'd been only ten minutes ago, he thinks you're amazing. It's terrifying, honestly.
"No, they just look at me..." you trail off and look at the wall over Peter's shoulder quickly, "They look at me like I'm a piece of meat."
Peter doesn't know what to say. He feels queasy.
"Well, they don't look at me like you are right now."
"Like what?" he lets his tongue catch up to his head.
"I don't know." You shrug and look at your lap.
Peter can't help himself. "I hope they don't look at you like I do. Like you're the prettiest girl in the room. If they do, they need to find someone else."
You let your head fall against his shoulder. "Pete..."
"It's true."
"They don't." He can hear your smile.
"They don't?" Peter now sounds half-offended. "Who else are they looking at like that? You're the prettiest girl in the room."
You have the decency in you to scoff. "You're unbelievable."
"I know," he says when you yawn. "I know. C'mon let's get you home."
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churipu · 4 months
Note
FIRST EVER REQUEST. WOOHOO!!
Id like to request jjk men with a reader that has atrociously long hair, like super duper long hair please.
(eg. do some get mad becuz the hair is everywhere. Do some help you make your hair)
I hope your taking care of yourself and staying healthy and hydrated <3 mwah mwah
JJK MEN + PARTNER WHO HAS LONG HAIR
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featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, choso kamo x reader
warnings. cursing (toji)
note. hi nonnieee, congrats on your first request mwah mwah. as a person who used to have ATROCIOUSLY long hair — some people weren't happy, including me (which is why i decided to chop it off >:() and nonnie baby, i hope you're also taking care of yourself <33 also, i'm gonna be closing the requests as of now while i try to finish the other requests, and it will be opened back if everything is done! thank you.
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GOJO SATORU. loves your hair, no questions asked. he loves playing with your hair if you both are just chilling in the house, the male always tries to look up easy hairstyles to do for beginners — which never ends up good.
gojo once got your hair stuck in a brush because he was too focused in watching the tutorial, and he contemplated chopping your hair off. but you threatened him, and so he spent approximately one and a half hour to untangle your hair.
after that day, he never tried a new hairstyle in fear of doing something wrong again. but he still and does play with your hair, twirling it around his slender fingers and caressing it — sometimes he helps you with drying your hair after a shower, and he helps on your hair care routine.
"so i just put the tonic on? how much should i put? four dose of pipettes?" he asks you, looking at the small pipette in confusion.
"baby, no— just four squeezes are enough." you informed, a bit worried about your hair now; but the male did extremely well, even giving your scalp a quick massage.
"did i do good? can i do it again next time, please please?" he asks you, pulling you into his chest, "it's fun, i'm like your personal hairdresser."
you rolled your eyes, "sure, sure. free of charge, right?"
the male rolled his eyes, "of course not, there's a price to it. i get a kiss after, one for the tonic, one for the massage. deal?" he proposed, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips.
"i like that deal. deal."
TOJI FUSHIGURO. he hates it. on certain occasions — absolutely despises your hair when you're both cuddling, it gets into his face, his eyes, his mouth, everywhere where he doesn't want it to be. but out of that, he's perfectly fine with it.
"ah, fuck— doll, 'm going to cut your hair one of these days and make it look like an accident," he groans out, gently brushing your hair aside as your back was pressed onto his chest.
"cut my hair, and i'll cut this relationship short."
toji chuckles, pressing a light kiss on the area between your neck and shoulder, "you're mean," he mumbles into your skin.
as much as he said he'd cut it (as a joke), he'd find your hair really fun to play with sometimes; and his fingers would reach out to the edges of your hair, playing with it while his eyes are focused elsewhere. during movie nights, he'd be unaware of his lingering fingers in your hair as he watches; you didn't mind though, letting his hand just roam in your hair until the movie ends.
the male looks intrigued by your hair care routine, toji would always be there to watch you put care into your hair. sometimes offering to do it, and when he messes up he asks you to take over because he was scared of ruining your beautiful hair.
"ah, shit. i can't do it baby, you take over." he mutters out in annoyance, sliding the hair tonic over to you after failing to pump in the right amount of liquid into the pipette from his strong grip.
the male looks up hairstyles and sends the link to you, asking: "can you try this hairstyle, wanna see you in it." and is never disappointed with the result.
he makes himself the small spoon so your hair wouldn't get in his face — not that he's complaining, he likes being held by you.
"what're you doing, toji?" you asked in confusion, seeing the male curled up in bed.
"being the small spoon," he mumbles out.
and from then on, he is now the small spoon (he loves it, but would never admit it, telling you that it's just because of your hair).
CHOSO KAMO. he is the best at doing hairstyles, especially pig tails. choso is so delicate with your hair, treating every strand like they're his own. and he was the first one to offer to do your hair when he sees you slightly struggling with trying out a new hairstyle.
he would be independent to look up new hairstyles and come to you, asking if he could try doing your hair.
"hi y/n," he appears behind the bedroom door, peeking slightly with a small smile, "can i do your hair?"
when you tell him yes, he gets so happy and skips on the bed. telling you to sit down in front of him while he follows the tutorial patiently — and when he's done, he's always giddy to hear your reaction to his work. such a cutie.
"cho, this looks really pretty, thank you," you kissed his forehead, and the male shyly smiles at you.
choso sees you putting on a lot of things on your hair after a shower and he began looking up hair care routines on the internet, how to do them step by step, remembering everything so he could be the one doing your hair care routine for you.
"baby, baby! i wanna do your hair care routine," he tells you, tugging your hand with a smile on his face.
you, of course, let him. trusting him with it — and choso delivers perfectly, doing the steps you usually do with the right amount of things. it makes him really happy when you tell him thank you and awarded him with a kiss or two.
choso loves and adores your hair, he treats it like his own.
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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