#and THEN i ran to another doorway across my room when i realized the closet door might cause some problems
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earthquakes.
#imagine you are me. you have just received news that you are in fact covid negative. you are doing math homework.#then. blam! small earthquake#i'm willing to bet money i could get injured in a big earthquake bc tell me why i ran to a doorway & that doorway had a closet sliding door#-hanging off the side (bc it got unattached from the closet months go and we haven't put it back)#and THEN i ran to another doorway across my room when i realized the closet door might cause some problems#by then of course the earthquake was over but holy fuck man
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Spiderwebs #40: Parasite
Masterlist
content: lab whump, organs, starvation
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
However disastrous his attempt to leave may have been, it didn’t change a lot between them. Heather was upstairs all the time, so he was left to his own devices. They eventually returned to a sort of peace.
That morning, Jackie was curled up on the sofa, reading and gazing out the window at regular intervals. He had not spoken to Heather for about a week now, so he was startled when she burst into the living room.
She seemed to be preoccupied, with her hair in a rough ponytail, her white lab coat somewhat disheveled, absent-mindedly holding a pen in one hand. “Jackie, I’ve figured it out.”
He relaxed a bit, once he realized she just wanted to talk. “Yeah?”
“Yes, I’ve got it.” She hovered by the doorway, leaning one hand against the frame and clicking the pen with the other. “I think it’s a type of chemosynthesis. Wait, I’m sorry, I’m rushing—“ She held up a hand to pause him. “There’s parasites—actually, they’re probably symbiotes, but that’s not relevant. Microscopic ones. Inside you.”
“There is?” He frowned. “Can we get them out?”
“No, Jackie, you don’t understand. I’ve figured out why you’re immortal. The—the organism, it’s adapted for a specific purpose, and—“ She made a few grand gestures, trying to explain whatever abstract concept this was. “It’s… stem cells, you know?”
He did not, in fact, know. He shook his head.
“It’s—never mind, I’ll explain it later.” She ran a hand over her hair, which only messed it up further. “I need you to come upstairs with me. To the laboratory.”
“You have a laboratory?”
“Yes, it’s upstairs.” She was already turning heel and making her way out. “Hurry up, this is absolutely crucial for my studies.”
“Okay, okay, give me a moment.” He set the book down and hurried after her, since she’d already reached the hallway by that point. He did wonder what she was doing up there. It must have been important, considering how impatient she was acting.
He followed her up the stairs. The second floor was similar to the first, with a hallway leading to three different doors, plus a hatch in the roof above a folded ladder. He had only been here once, and he was blindfolded then. Heather stepped into the farthest door.
Jackie had been expecting something more theatrical, neon acids and smoke wisps and heavy-duty machinery, but it was a clinical place. Mostly clean slates of white, flat tables and counters. Very sanitized. She kept it tidy. It smelled overwhelmingly of chemicals, the same chemicals she cleaned her surgical tools with, which he recognized instantly. There were a few microscopes and sets of glassware, and other instruments he couldn’t name or recognize. Behind another door was a smaller area, what might have once been a walk-in closet or perfume room. There stood a deep freezer, buzzing and humming in the background, and shelves of storage, even more tools and containers all neatly lined up.
“Nice place,” he told her.
“Thank you.” She turned to him, holding a scalpel. “Don’t worry, I just need your skin.”
Ah. His… skin. “All of it?”
She shook her head with a slight, amused smile, before returning to neutral professionality. “A very small amount. I’m studying your cells, you see. I wanted a fresh sample.”
He did not trust her around scalpels, but it was better to just get it over with. He held his arm out. “Go ahead.”
She nodded once, then slid the blade across the side of his arm, where the skin wasn’t so close to the bone. It was a quick and precise motion, like ripping a sticker off. He winced and bit back a hiss of pain. She then placed the cut of skin onto a small, transparent plastic rectangle. It must have been satisfactory, because she nodded in its direction and set it down on a table.
Jackie watched blood well up in the wound, shallow though it was. Heather reached over and pressed a cotton band-aid over it.
“Thanks.” He lowered his arm. “Was that all you needed me for?”
“Yes, but you’re welcome to stay, if you’d like.” She moved a few things around, set a few things up—he wasn’t sure what exactly she was doing, as she had her back turned to him. “As long as you’re quiet. I prefer working in silence.”
He entertained her offer for a few minutes but quickly grew bored. Whatever she was working on, he didn’t understand any of it. He didn’t even know where he would start asking questions—maybe why do I have a parasite in me, for starters. But he was sure that she would explain it all in good time, once she finished her examinations.
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
Then they were back to their normal routine, back to the experiments, though Jackie thought these ones were much more pleasant than the drugs and the cassette tapes. They mostly did not involve him. He spent his days like that, reading or lounging by the window, sleeping on the couch or in the basement, killing time. He was allowed to wander around and do as he pleased, though he did visit Heather from time to time.
The organism, as it turned out, was what allowed him to heal so quickly. It had something to do with stem cells, although she couldn’t give him a straight answer. The important discovery, so she said, was that the organism could only exist inside his body. There was some special thing in his tissues that it needed to live. That was why it was keeping him alive. But she couldn't say what that special thing was, not for certain. Not yet, anyway.
“I don’t think you’ll age,” she told him once.
“Really? At all?”
She gave a noncommittal shrug. “I suppose you might age until thirty or thirty-five, but you won’t grow old. Aging is a form of tissue decay. If your cells can regenerate, they should be able to repair that damage. But I guess I wouldn’t know. We’ll see.”
Alive, even when it was inconvenient for him. Parasite was the right word. It was not symbiosis.
“That’s cool,” he said.
“Yes, it’s all very fascinating.” She continued musing over a few microscope slides.
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
She explained how the organism’s eggs hatched within seconds, the way it could multiply like a hutch of rabbits given a few minutes. The mature specimens could be killed with prolonged pressure or radiation, but the eggs were much more difficult to get rid of. Unless they left his body, at which point they would promptly die. She explained the marvelous regeneration of his stem cells, their undifferentiated, pluripotent, embryonic nature. She spoke of how it was nearly impossible to separate them from his tissues to prevent healing, how a lone cell could divide itself until they repopulated. He was even present for a few of her more exciting experiments.
“Wait behind me,” she said.
She had allowed him to follow her outside, where she had set up a Roman candle. She lit the base of a punk-stick with a lighter then tipped it forwards.
The Roman candle smoldered for a few seconds. She stepped back at a safe distance, meanwhile, putting her arm against his chest so he would do the same.
The explosive set off, amid a patch of ground cleared from snow. His heart—removed from his body, of course, and placed beside the explosive—was decimated to a few chunks of char. Bright sparks popped in the sky above them. And then, slowly but surely, the marred lump reformed, cracking and blooming into another heart. The flesh was rather discolored and misshapen. It wasn’t a pretty thing, but it was there.
“It would heal better in your body,” she explained. “The other tissues could provide healthier cells. It’s the same thing with low levels of radiation—it’s replaced your natural immune system, by the way.”
“Oh?”
“That’s why you never get sick. Even if something gets damaged, its destroyed and replaced. That does leave the possibility of autoimmune diseases and allergies, but you were lucky in that regard.”
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
Unfortunately, not all her research involved organs safely separated from Jackie. He enjoyed his break from being a subject, but there were some things hearts and skin samples couldn’t test.
They were in the kitchen, about a week later. Or, Jackie was in the kitchen, and Heather had just entered. She was hovering near him with a conflicted expression, which wasn’t making it easy to enjoy his breakfast.
“Do you need something?” he finally asked her.
“Yes.” She hesitated. “I need you to not eat anything for three days.”
He glanced at the open pantry. “Starting now?”
“That would be ideal.”
He pushed the pantry door closed with a disappointed expression. “Whatever you say, doc.”
It was a great contribution to science, she told him. It could help a lot of people, she told him. It could be incredibly valuable! Really, what was three days when compared to this piece of eternal knowledge? They could learn how he managed to survive without food—they could discover how he accomplished the impossible! It was a small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things. Still, whatever she told him couldn’t change the fact that he had to starve for seventy-two hours. He had done it before, and he could do it again, but he wouldn’t enjoy it.
During this period, he mostly lay in his bed in the basement, trying not to think of the kitchen with all its glorious treasures, every piece of food just out of reach. He considered stealing, but ultimately decided against it. Mainly because all the food was locked away. A padlock on the fridge, and one on each pantry door. Where Heather got all those locks from, he had no clue. But he would have given in if he could. The first hours of hunger were always the worst.
By the end he was rewarded with a bowl of pasta, and Heather with her answers: the organism produced energy for him when his body starved. It could create the necessary substances under certain circumstances, using certain chemical reactions, although it was only enough to keep him alive. Hence, the headaches and the fatigue. Jackie barely listened to any of this, however. The food preoccupied all his attention.
In the end, Heather might have thought these things were crucial discoveries, the crux of scientific knowledge, but he couldn’t care less. His worries had narrowed mostly down to base needs—food, water, shelter, a safe place to sleep. It concerned him a little, that he had reverted to such an undignified state of mind. Only animals thought of survival. People thought of living beyond that, to understand their nature, to have awareness and choice. But he wasn't in a position to want something more.
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
Taglist:
@theelvishcowgirl @lthrboy @whumpy-wyrms
@yassifiedinformation @creppersfunpalooza
@vidawhump
#whump writing#whump#my writing#Spiderwebs toyybox#lab whump#the chapter where Heather finally does some goddamn work for once#I also explain the immortality in this one#yayy
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American Amongst The Brits Chapter 3 (unedited)
He cleared his throat and then stepped toward me.
“Thank you for entertaining me on the train. I wanted to show you some support during your fourth year here. You have my family as your friend here in Slytherin.” He said and again stepped closer to me. He was so close that I could smell his breathe. I looked at his eyes and then his lips. Interesting they were a bit chapped. You would think someone so proud of themselves would keep their lips smooth.
“If you keep looking at my lips I might get the wrong idea Ms. Y/n.” He said. I looked back up at his eyes as he continued to try and press forward. I stepped back away from him and felt myself up against the wall and then noticed he stuck his hand on the side of my head trapping me between the wall and him. He smelled very nice. That is at least nice.
“Tell me what’s on your mind right now?” Lucius said.
A harsh knocking on the door came and Lucius stepped away from me and opened the door.
“Have a nice night. I hope you get settled quickly.” Lucius said and stepped into the hallway closing the door behind him. Fuck me. Had that knock not happened I am pretty sure I would have thrown myself at him. The accent is making it very hard for me to resist. Then the blue eyes. Yet, they weren’t the brown practically black eyes that looked at me. Those eyes made my knee’s weaken. I walked over to the closet and put my bag in it and saw more than just the Slytherin uniforms hanging up. I saw a few outfits that were not mine in here. At least they did not appear to be mine. They would have been skin tight on me if they had been but that’s if I was two sizes bigger. Maybe someone left them here. Hold on. If I am not mistaken he is just across the hall.
I walked over to the door and opened it up to see Severus and Lucius talking and the peered over at me.
“I am sorry to interupt but, there are other clothes in the wardrobe in the room. Was that left by mistake?” I asked. Lucius smiled.
“No, those were meant for you as well.” He said.
“Thank you.” I said and closed the door. Maybe I am a bit too big then. These clothes are two sizes too big. Maybe he thought I was bigger than I was. That was the only reason he could have bought the wrong size. However, the uniforms were in the right size so what was the excuse for bigger clothes when it came to normal one’s. Whatever. Just brush it off for right now.
It will be okay. One of these doors should be a bathroom right? I started to open up the second door and was greeted by another room but it was huge. This could not be a bathroom.
I felt around for a light switch and realized that there was not going to be one. I grabbed my wand and said Lumos. Some of the spells must be the same in both countries because the candles lit up and I stepped inside and my mouth fell open. This in fact was a bathroom. It was massive. There was a bathtub that I would not be using because that is gross, a shower, and a private toilet. I mean I am all for this. There was not another door so I knew I was not going to have to share with anyone else which was rather exciting. I stepped in and went to the bathroom. I went back to the closet and pulled out my toothpaste and toothbrush and went back to the bathroom. I looked into the mirror and started to turn the sink on. I wet the toothbrush put some toothpaste on and then ran it under the water again before brushing my teeth.
Hard knocking sounded on my door and with my toothbrush still in my mouth I walked over to it and opened it and saw professor Snape. I motioned for him to come in and he obliged. He stood in front of me and I turned away and walked back into the bathroom to rinse my mouth out and rinse my toothbrush. I put it away and then as I turned around to join him back in my room I saw him standing in the doorway of my bathroom.
“Ms. Y/l/n I think it would be wise if you stayed away from Lucius Malfoy. He is not a person you want to have around you.” He said crossing his arms across his chest.
“Surely he can’t be that bad can he?” I asked and walked past him and walked over to my backpack that I put in the wardrobe. I opened it and grabbed out some shorts and a tank top.
“If you want to stay here you can but, I would like to get comfortable in this space.” I said. He looked at me and then looked away.
“Very well, I just thought you deserved a warning before continuing being friendly with a Malfoy.” He sneered. He turned away from me and walked towards the door. Before stepping out he turned around and opened his mouth to say something but, stopped when he saw that I was no longer wearing my shirt.
He quickly turned back around avoiding making eye contact with me and then proceeded to walk out and close the door behind him. What a grumpy man. He should really try to be less out a pout when it came to life. Maybe then people wouldn’t talk so poorly of him. Surely he is capable of being kind. I can’t think about why he would be so mean. Maybe the students here are truly crappy. Maybe they don’t treat him right. I suppose it doesn’t matter. I put my clothes next to my bed and pulled on my shorts and tucked myself under the covers. It was nice and freezing down here. I preferred it to be cold when I slept so this was nice. Granted it was excessively cold. How does Professor Snape sleep down here with no heater. Maybe I can ask him tomorrow. I can feel my eyes growing heavy so I submitted to myself falling asleep.
~Snape’s POV~
Her thought’s are so loud. They are not like everyone else’s either. I mean a couple students here and there might have a weird thought or two about me but all it would take is yelling at them or scolding them in some way for them to disappear and hide from me. She was quite mesmerizing to look at. Her eyes were rather large and when she looked at me she didn’t try to look past me she made eye contact. That was different.
She keeps thinking about me. I heard what she thinks about me. She just walked into the dining hall and immediately once she saw me she started to talk about how handsome I was. It was rather nice to have someone think that of me. Rather that I was gorgeous but I would have preferred the term handsome. I suppose it could mean the same thing. I could care less about the fact that she pointed out my nose and wrinkled face but nonetheless she still thought fondly of my looks. I wish she would have looked at me longer at that moment but I could tell something about her was nervous. Maybe she feels out of place here. It is to be expected.
He teeth are jittering. Is she freezing? She was planning on wearing shorts to bed. Maybe I should take her an extra blanket and try and find someone in the morning to put a better source of heat in her room. Did she not notice the fireplace in her room? Before I get out of my own bed I should try my best to ignore the sound of her teeth. I closed my eyes trying to fall asleep but after just two quick minutes I was becoming rather annoyed with the sound it made. It was like hearing a Mandrake scream. It was terrible. The poor thing was going to destroy her teeth.
Fine I will get up and give her the dang blanket McGonagall tried to gift me one year. It was the last gift she had given me because I told her it was not necessary. She often tried to take pity on me which was enraging. I knocked on the door and when there was no response and a light snore coming through it I contemplated walking away. I took a step back ready to attempt to ignore it again when I heard some quiet come through the door. I reached my hand out to attempt to open it but then the door swung open. In front of me stood a very awake looking y/n and she did not have any reaction to me standing there.
“Ms. y/n, I think you should take this blanket to help you sleep better. It apparently warms up.” I said. I looked behind her and noticed that the fireplace was not lit.
“Incendio.” I said and held my wand towards the fireplace. It lit up and the room immediately started to radiate the heat into it. Why would she not light the fireplace? Was this woman mad?
“Ms y/n?” I said and snapped my finger in front of her. She stepped out into the hallways and looked past me and further down into the hallway. Something is strange about this one. Why is she ignoring me?
“Ms. Y/n I assure you this is not how you make an impression upon a new professor.” I said. Still no reaction and she in fact walks past me and further into the hallway. Another trouble maker. Potter should be fond of this one. I muttered a spell under my breath where the appropriate clothing was not intact and on me. I need to follow her to see where she is going. I looked down at her feet and noticed they were bare. What in the hell? Why does she have no shoes on if she is going to defy the rules? Is this her attempt on being quiet?
She made it to the stairwell and stepped onto the platform. Surely she is insane. I followed closely behind her and still received no reaction from her. It is like something has a hold of her but what? Once the stairs came to a halt to the main floor she began to walk again. She went to the main door and pushed it open. That’s odd. That is normally locked this late at night. She will freeze out there not wearing the proper clothing. Her shorts are short enough they don’t really cover all of her rear end. They must not be the proper size. Noted that if Lucius is going to buy her clothing he should be able to provide some other nightwear for her. She continues to make strides over towards the edge of the school. For someone who complained that she was unable to keep up with me she sure is making it in record time and I am unable to keep up with her.
What is she doing now? Why is she sitting in front of the whomping willow tree? Is she not aware how dangerous that is? The thing will kill her. I looked at her a moment longer trying to make it over to her but she laid down and that startled me. Why is she submitting herself to the dangers of the tree? The damn thing looks like its going to move. No, no we cannot have any casualties with the American. Too many people have already seen her so her existence at this school is known. It’s not like that would be something we could hide very well. If I heard right the Weasley’s are the one’s that enrolled her the day before everyone was to arrive. Lucius came into view before I made it to her and when he touched her he flew back. He was a good meter away from her. Noted I should not touch her.
“What the hell is she doing out of her sleeping chambers and why is she in front of that tree?” Lucius yelled at me.
“Matter of fact why is she wearing that out here?” He asked me while staring at he laid out on the ground. The tree was swinging its branches back and forth and came down just above her. It stopped just before it hit her. It brushed against her skin and then looked like it was gaining some life. What is happening. This is odd.
“Snape are you seeing what I am seeing?” Lucius said as he got back onto his feet and dusted himself off.
“Yes, quiet. I have come to the conclusion that she is asleep.” I said now clipping my voice when I watched her stand back up and then saw a ring on her hand. That looks mesmerizing.
“Do you see the ring?” I said allowed towards Lucius.
“Yes, it is beautiful. It kind of reminds me of the Fae.” He said. He is right that is what it reminds me of. However, they are not known to be just anywhere. Those come from a specific forest. It is not in America either. Something does not add up. I kept my eyes on the ring and it started to glow. I stepped around to look at her face and her eyes closed. Her eyelashes were long and rested gently upon the tops of her cheeks. She brought her arms out and raised her hands above her head now stretching to touch a branch from the tree. She is insane.
As her fingers brushed the tips of a couple branches leaves began to sprout on the tree. This is new. This tree is not in season to bloom. It won’t be for awhile and when it does bloom it shakes the leaves off. She is mumbling something to the tree and I can’t hear it. After another moment of her touching the branch the entire tree grew leaves and perked up into life. It began to bloom flowers. What is happening? How is she doing this to that tree? What were they teaching her in America.
“The tree is beautiful.” Lucius said. Moments later I peered back at her and she fell to the ground. Lucius ran over to her and I approached the remaining few feet.
“We have to take her to see Pomfrey. Something is not right and I can’t place my finger on it.” I said. Lucius picked her up before I could make a move to. What a shrew. Maybe he fancy’s her more than he is trying to show. Clearly she is good at making impressions.
“Let’s apparate there. We don’t know how serious this could be.” Lucius said. Before I even had a chance to say anything he already did it. What a piece of work. I followed soon and arrived moments after him. Pomfrey startled and looked at the both of us.
“Gentleman who do you have and why is she not dressed more appropriately?” She asked.
“She left her sleeping quarters tonight. I attempted to get her attention but she just ignored me. At first that is what I believed to be happening but, the more I analyzed her she looks like she was not in control. Her eyes appeared normal. She was walking normally. Nothing gave me the impression until she laid in front of the Whomping Willow tree.” I said and Pomfrey’s eyes widened.
“You just let her take a beating from the tree?” She yelled at me and Lucius.
“Actually, no something strange happened. She laid in front of the tree and when it appeared it was going to strike her it stopped. She stood up and touched the tree and now it’s in full bloom. She was mumbling something but, I couldn’t hear it. I did try and move her away from the tree but, when I tried to move her by grabbing her something pushed me away from her about a good meter away from her. It really makes no sense.” Lucius said. Thanks for taking the explanation out of my mouth. Dumbledore came into the infirmary with McGonagall. Wonderful everyone is here to see her in her undergarments. How unfortunate for Ms y/l/n that everyone gets to see her so exposed.
“Malfoy avert your eyes as well as you Snape.” Minerva spoke harshly to us. She grabbed the blanket off the bed and dressed it on her so she was no longer exposed.
“We heard what you said happened. No need to explain it again.” Minerva said and raised her hand up to show she did not want to hear another word from the men.
“Go now gentlemen, we will take care of this.” Minerva said.
“Like hell, I want to know what she is and how she did that.” Lucius said.
“Gentleman, it is clear that you are unaware of who her parents were.” Dumbledore said.
“What does that have anything to do with what happened?” Lucius said.
“One of which was a wizard the other a Fae-blooded witch. All of which born roughly the same day and same time. She has her mothers blood who was a Fae. He father was a well known wizard and I am certain Lucius you must have known him. He worked at the ministry for some time.” Dumbledore said and now Minerva stepped back from the American.
“May I get a name because surely that is impossible. There was no Americans I worked with.” Lucius said.
“It is because she was not meant to be an American. Her mother sent her away to be protected from Voldemort and another very powerful wizard. Someone who demanded her as a payment for her life. Instead of choosing to save herself and rid her of the child she saved the child and died shortly after.” Dumbledore added.
I sucked in a breathe.
“What does that mean for her? You never did mention who her mother was by name.” I mentioned.
“Her mother was Vergho. Named after the sign her birth follows. An earth bound Fae blooded Witch.” Dumbledore said.
“Sorry?” Lucius said and stepped back mouth gaped open.
“You knew her?” I asked.
“I heard of her. I heard of her death. I didn’t see it but hearing it was enough to terrorize my thoughts.” Lucius said and he cowered away.
“Anything I can do?” I asked Dumbledore.
“Protect her. That’s all I ask. Teach her that the ways she learned there may not have been the best methods.” Dumbledore said. Minerva stepped back up to her and grabbed her hand.
“I wonder if she has her mother’s wand and broom.” Minerva said.
“She does.” Dumbledore said.
“How do you know?” Minerva asked.
“Look at her hand. It has the markings. It would have called to her. It would have gone to her.” Dumbledore said.
“Does that mean?” Minerva said and then looked up startled at Dumbledore.
“It does mean exactly that.” He said. I despise when they do that. They don’t even bother to let me in on what they are talking about. I was about to dismiss myself when Pomfrey spoke up.
“There is nothing wrong with her. She is asleep. No spells, no hexes, nothing.” Pomfrey said.
“Im sorry?” Minerva said.
“Whatever happened, it was not from someone elses doing. It might have been her own head.” Pomfrey said.
“Very well, Snape will you make sure she gets back to her room?” Minerva asked.
“Of course.” I said.
“I could do it.” Lucius said.
“No, you will are no longer needed. Please go.” Minerva waved him off.
“Actually, I might need some assistance. Come Lucius.” I said. Minerva gave me a sideways glance and waved us off.
“Finally admitted you couldn’t carry her?” Lucius said going to pick her up.
“No, back away from her. You could have wandering hands. That is not why I need your assistance. Lets get her back to her room.” I said. I stepped over to her body and lifted her up with my left arm under her neck and my right arm under her knees. She was rather light. Did she ever eat?
“Did she eat dinner?” I asked.
“She was at the dinner table with Draco, I didn’t see her take a bite but, maybe he did. I will ask.” Lucius said. Useless man. A very useless man.
Y/n’s head is starting to toss a little. I think she might be waking up. We had made it to the stairs and descended to the dungeon. We made it to her door before Lucius opened it and we stepped inside. I placed her on her bed and thats when she startled and woke up.
~Readers POV~
“What the hell are the two of you doing in my room? Why are you watching me sleep?” I yelled out.
#fanfic#fluff#smut#pov#age difference#lucius malfoy#severus snape#harry potter#harry potter fandom#death eaters#y/n x severus snape#professor snape#y/n x professor snape#pro severus#snapedom#Spotify
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simple acts of intimacy that actually mean a lot T.H.
wc: 3.1k (fluff)
taking something out of your pocket
"Tom!" you called for him.
"Hey, babe," he greeted you. You had just gotten back from a shopping spree, and you were holding about seven heavy bags, two drinks in your hand. Harrison and Harry were seated on the couch in front of the two of you, Tuwaine in the kitchen getting more snacks.
"I didn't bring my purse," you huffed, out of breath from the walk. "Can you check for my phone? My wallet?"
Tom smiled softly in response, sending you an easy nod. "Of course," he said, moving to the pockets of your jeans.
He searched the front right pocket first, his fingers strong and warm and lean, and the touch made you giggle. He found your keys in the front right pocket, momentarily holding them up for you to see before moving to the next pocket. He found your phone and wallet pocketed in the back pockets, and then he was by your front again, searching your left pocket.
"Your chapstick," he held it up, and you giggled again as he opened it and applied it to his own lips and then your own. "They say you get more alike to your significant other, y'know," he smirked, and you laughed again with a nod.
knowing just how to calm you down
It was a dangerous scenario to be in in the first place, though it wasn't your's nor Tom's fault. After dealing with a rather rude man from the front desk, you were rushing out of the building, Tom barely trailing after you. Just as you were making it to the car, he rushed ahead of you, halting you.
"Hey- hey, hey, hey," he said, hands gesturing for you to slow. There were frustrated tears in your eyes, threatening to spill if any one move prompted them. You'd hope Tom could be the dam to keep them up. "It's alright," he assured you.
"No, its-! It's not!" You exclaimed, breaking your silence. "N-now I have find another way to do it and I can't t-"
"Love," he cut you off, hand caressing your arm, moving you into his embrace slightly. "He's an asshole- he had no right to tell you those things, okay? We're gonna find another way, but later, okay? Listen to me, listen to my voice," he whispered. "And look at my eyes," he moved your chin, engaging eye contact. "We're going to be alright."
A smile broke out onto your face for the first time, and you nodded, fully accepting his hug and hiding in his chest.
calling to make sure you've eaten
Calling in between takes and scenes wasn't uncommon, and especially calling during lunch. Tom had a tendency to forget to eat or take breaks; wearing the Spider-man suit was a big contributor to his re-prioritization, his reason for the distractions. Unfortunately, he tended to bring this habit onto the sets of different films. Luckily, you had paid mind to the habit, and made sure to check in on him everyday, especially if you weren't on set all the time.
"Hi, angel," Tom spoke into the phone after picking it up.
"Hi, Tommy!" You exclaimed excitedly. "How's filming?"
"Good, tiring. Miss you," he huffed out, still with a smile.
"Miss you too bubs, tell everyone I say ''hey.'" you replied. "Have you eaten today?"
Tom was nodding off silently to a crew worker who had asked him a quick question. "Hm?" he laughed a light one. "Oh, yes I have. Have you, darling?"
"I have, I have, no worries," you assured him. "Drinking water?"
"Just got a new bottle," Tom smiled. "Alright well," he trailed off disappointingly, "I hate this part but, they're calling me now. I call you when the shoots over. Love you, baby."
You hummed, "'kay, love you Tommy. And good luck!" You giggled before hanging up.
"Y/N?' Harry asked Tom, looking to the phone.
"Mhm," Tom smiled. "She says 'hi'."
wearing/borrowing clothes
"Hey, Y/N, have you seen my-?" Tom stopped short in his tracks, barely through the doorway. He smiled at the sight of you, a pint of ice cream sitting on the table in front of you, an open book in your lap and a spoon in your mouth.
You hummed, "What was that, hun?"
He eyed your figure, clad in his pink sweatshirt, before shaking his head. Upon realizing you weren't looking at him, he breathed out a laugh. "Never mind."
You hummed again, glancing up to him before smiling softly at him.
**
"Hey, love?" Tom hollered from within the depths of the closet.
"Yeah?" you shouted back, applying some lip gloss as you looked into the bathroom mirror.
"Does this work with my outfit?"
You laughed before walking over to him. You smiled at him: he was holding a baseball cap in one hand, your beanie fitted on his head. Though he loved his buzzcut, he also loved to wear matching hats, though this time you were wearing the sweatshirt.
"I like the beanie," you agreed.
He glanced up with a smile, setting the baseball cap down. "Me too."
zipping up/ unzipping
Tom was waiting in the living room for you. It was almost routine, that whenever the two of you were attending a gala or a premiere together, he'd wait to see your final look, and god he loved the reveal every time. This time, however, was one of the first times you were doing everything on your own, no makeup artists or stylists there to assist you.
"Tommy?" you yelled softly.
Tom's head perked up, and he slipped his phone into the pockets of his dress pants before making his way to the closed bedroom door.
"Yes, love?"
You opened the door, stepping towards him slowly. Tom was awestruck, mouth agape and eyes wide. You were absolutely stunning, from every and all angles, and Tom swore his heart leapt into his throat.
"Tom?" you repeated, waving a hand in front of his face.
It had just occurred to him that you had been talking and he had completely tuned your voice out, too taken up by the sight in front of him.
"Sorry- what?" he asked, finally looking at you.
"Can you zip me up?" you asked again, softly. You turned around, gesturing to your zipper. Tom smiled, fingertips softly grazing the lower portion of your back, before softly gripping the zipper. The fingertips of his left hand ran up your spine, his right hand with the zipper following along. He left a small kiss on your shoulder and you went straight back into the bedroom to get the remaining accessories for your outfit.
putting jewelry on for each other
After you chose a few rings, you walked back over to Tom with a necklace in hand. You placed both ends in his hands with a hopeful smile before spinning around, making sure your hair was not in the way. Tom clipped both ends and let the jewelry dangle off your neck. He left another kiss on your shoulder before you intertwined your hands.
remembering coffee/tea orders verbatim
"Go find us a booth," Tom whispered in your ear, hand on the small of your back as he gave you a nudge, and the two of you separated into two different directions, you towards the seats and him towards the line to the barista.
"Hi, how're you?" The barista greeted.
Tom returned a smile," I'm good, how're you?"
"I'm good, what can I get you today?"
"Can I get a hot chamomile tea with some lemon...?"
"Size?"
"Uhm, medium please."
The barista, Sophia, nodded. "Anything else?"
"Yeah uhm, a medium honey cream latte? Not too heavy on the creamer?"
"Got it. Will that be all for you today?"
"Yes I think so," Tom replied, handing her his credit card before moving to the counter to pick up the drinks.
When he had both, he made his way over to you, who found a booth by a window.
"Hey, love," Tom trailed excitedly, placing the mugs down softly. "I got your favorite."
"Light on the cream?"
Tom sat down across from you. "Light on the cream," he repeated with a smile.
dancing in the kitchen
A quick trip to the kitchen for some toast had started a mini concert by the sink and in front of the dishes. Tom was clad in a pair of sweats, white socks helping him slide on the cool tiled floor, his pink hoodie fresh on his torso.
The speakers were playing a playlist of his favorites, which also consisted of your favorites, because you had introduced him to several new artists and genres. Song after song came on, distracting him from the opening and closing of the front door.
Hearing the commotion from the cooking room, you left your bags by the door, going upstairs to change into some comfy clothes and finding your boyfriend rocking out to some of Taylor Swift's Lover.
You giggled from the doorway, and he spun around to look at you, lowering the large metal spoon away from his mouth.
"Hi," you laughed again.
"Hi," he panted.
"What," you took a sip of water. "are you doing?"
"Dancing in the kitchen, obviously."
You nodded, drinking your water again with a smile.
"Care to join me?"
You set the cup down with raised eyebrows. "Thomas..."
Mariah Carey started ringing through the speakers, and the spoon went back up to his mouth as he started singing his heart out.
"C'mon, Y/N...." he smirked. "You know you want to," he held his hand out.
You rolled your eyes playfully before extending your arm, accepting his hand. "Fine.."
Tom grinned in victory, singing louder again, and you joined him, twirling him around as he did the same for you, toast long forgotten in the toaster oven.
knowing what food you're craving based on your attitude
"I'm bored," you whined to Tom, who was sitting next to you on the couch, looking at his phone.
He chuckled quietly as he clicked the device off. "Yeah, whaddya want to do?"
"Cuddle. I'm cold."
He grinned again, turning to you, caressing the skin of your ankle, which was splayed across his lap.
"Are you hungry, my cuddle bug?" he asked after pulling you into his chest, arms circling around you.
"Mhm," you nodded, fiddling with his fingers. "How'd you know?"
He grinned again, his face out of sight for you. "What if we eat... pho?"
You gasped, louder for dramatics, hand slamming down on his, halting your movements. "Thomas Stanley Holland how did you fucking know?" you whined, feet kicking lightly.
He chuckled again, kissing the back of your ear before opening the Ubereats app on his phone.
offering to drive instead
The gala was coming to a close, and you and Tom had both taken the clue to get ready to leave, heading out to the parking lot after saying your goodbyes to the present participants.
Rounding the car, you pulled the key out of your hand-purse, unlocking the car. Your hand was still intertwined with Tom's, about to separate to get into your respective seats, when he spoke.
"Do you want me to drive instead, love?"
You glanced to his eyes with a thankful nod. "Will you?" you asked, reaching to give him the key.
"Of course," he smiled, moving to the other side of the car, giving your temple a kiss as he rubbed your arm, taking the key from you and closing your car door after you had been seated.
remembering confessions from late nights or simple words that are forgotten by most
"Hey did you book the flights for next month?" You asked Tom, sitting across from him at the dining table, planner in front of you, a pen and your phone in each of your hands.
"Just up till the nineteenth," he replied, thumbs moving across the keyboard of his cell phone.
"Got it."
"Oh also," Tom looked up from his phone, forearms leaning on the edge of the table as he looked at you, focused on writing more details into that little book you loved so much. "I booked us a round trip to Mae Raem. I talked to Harry and I managed to get a week off from work, in between films I think."
Your eyes were fixed on the boy sitting across from you, hands frozen in their places.
"You what? "
"I booked us a flight To Mae-"
"I heard that part!" You exclaimed with a laugh. "Why the fuck are we going to Thailand?!"
"Well I just-" he looked off to different parts of the room, the tips of his ears turning scarlet as his cheeks heated up. "I remember you saying you wanted to go to this little place in Thailand and I just- I wrote it down so I wouldn't forget. I was just waiting until I had free time in my schedule."
"Tom you moved film times for this trip!" You laughed. "Why- how did you even remember that? It was like three A.M. when we were talking about those crazy dreams and shit," you laughed.
"I don't know," he put his phone down, fiddling with his fingers and knuckles. "You just sounded so passionate about it- I just remembered the sound of your voice, I guess. It seems like fun."
You clicked your pen, putting it down, and closing the planner. "Yeah, yeah it does."
remembering to buy something you'd forgotten to (grocery shopping)
"Oh fuck, I'm out of jaffa cakes," you huffed, closing a cupboard door.
"Let's go to the market then," Tom said, finishing his cup of tea.
**
A shower and a car drive later, the two of you were walking into the supermarket, Tom leaning on the cart as he followed you. You spotted the chip aisle, and headed straight for it. Tom chuckled at your behavior, suspecting that perhaps you were stocking up on your cravings-foods, knowing your period was coming too.
Aisle after aisle the two of you went before grabbing a few boxes of brownie mix. You saw the aisle with cereal, and left Tom on his own. He chuckled, moving over the next aisle.
"I think I'm done," you huffed, placing your last items in the cart. Tom nodded, putting a bag of apples into the cart before moving into a line for the cash register.
"Wait lets do the self checkout thing."
"Really?" Tom laughed at your suggestion before reluctantly agreeing, heading into the direction. He was scanning while you were bagging, the two of you moving like clockwork.
Tom paid the receipt before stopping abruptly. "Wait fuck, I forgot something."
"What?" you asked.
"Nothing, I'll meet you at the car."
"'Kay," you replied, rolling the cart out of the shop. Tom went off to find your favorite jaffa cakes, buying some extra danishes as well. When he paid, he added the items to the bags in the trunk before joining you in the front seat.
"Ready?" He asked, turning the engine on. You hummed a confirmation, and Tom changed the car's shift, driving home.
After the two of you brought the bags into the kitchen (in one trip, because two trips are for loser), you began unloading the items into their spots in the kitchen.
"Wait," you groaned after opening the cupboard. "I forgot the fucking jaffa cakes!"
"Ah ah," Tom spoke, pulling the sweet out of a bag he'd just unloaded.
You gasped, jaw slightly ajar as you reached for the food. "Oh. My. God," you looked at the wrapping. "I fucking love you."
Tom laughed, "Well," he was moving forward, his face two inches from yours, "it's a good thing I fucking love you too."
and finally, showering together
"Tommy! I missed you," You greeted him, rushing to your boyfriend, jumping into his embrace just as he closed the front door.
He groaned with a laugh, arms on your waist. "I missed you too, angel."
"Are you sore? Tired?"
He chuckled again, "mhm."
"Let's go get you cleaned up and we can go to bed then," you smiled at him, fingers running over the hair of his brows, trying to smooth out the stray one.
"Sounds like a plan, darling."
Making your way up the stairs, you ridded Tom of his coat. You went into the bathroom to turn on the shower, hoping to get the water warm, before pulling him into the bathroom with you.
"We can do face masks or we can fall asleep watching movies."
He booped your nose before answering. "Let's do the face masks tomorrow."
"'kay, arms up now, mister," you ordered him playfully, and he rolled his eyes before complying.
"My limbs still work, yanno-"
"Sure mister I-love-being-babied."
"I do not!" he denied, cheeks reddening.
"You secretly love it," you kissed his nose after removing his shirt, hands splaying across his bare chest and abs. He visibly shivered at your touch, and you smirked.
"Now get in the shower, you big doof," you playfully pushed him in the direction of the shower before stepping out of the bathroom.
Tom, unknowing of your full plans, hopped into the shower, letting the heated water cascade down his skin and drench his hair. As he was about to reach for the bottle of shampoo, you opened the shower door, your bare skin coming into view as you joined Tom in the shower.
His eyebrows shot up, movements stopped.
"Uh-"
"Hi," you said with a giggle. "Let me," you took the shampoo from his hand, squirting some into your hand before rubbing it onto the top of his head, fingers running through his unruly curls as he hummed contently at the feeling, always loving when you did anything to his hair.
"Rinse now," you said, moving to clean the strands out, ridding them of the suds. You repeated the process with conditioner (your conditioner, because though Tom would deny it, he secretly loved it, and cheered internally when you picked it up instead of his own) before reaching for the body-wash.
"Uh-uh, let me do this one," he took the bottle from your hands, starting to clean himself.
You laughed at his attempts before snatching the bottle from him. "You can't even reach this part of your back!"
"I'm a gymnast! I'm flexible enough to reach that!" he breathed out a laugh.
You giggled, shaking your head and letting your fingers caress his shoulder blades, his lower back as well as his ribs. You spun him around so you could continue on his chest as well, and his eyes were closed in bliss. When you finished, you walked him backwards under the streaming water of the shower head, arms wrapping around his lower stomach, hugging him, chin resting on his chest as he looked down at you.
"Thank you for this, love."
"Anything for you Tommy."
He kissed the tip of your nose and smiled.
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"It won't happen again, I swear" Yax?
Once Wakko ran out of the room, the first thing Yakko did was try and see if he could catch up to Max. He had to make sure things were okay- that Max didn't hate him. If he did- oh god-
Max was... everything to Yakko. He couldn't afford to lose him.
Thankfully, Max still hadn't made it outside, and was at the bottom of the foyer when Yakko called for him to stop.
"Max- wait-!" Yakko shouted as he scrambled down the steps as fast as he could. Thankfully, Max obliged, staying where he was.
"I... I wanted to apologize... for Wakko's behavior," Yakko panted, not bothering to stop to take a breath.
"It's cool, Yakko. I get it- really, i do," Max said, putting his hands in his pockets.
Yakko blinked.
"But..?" He tilted his head slighty.
"'But' nothing. I'll admit Wakko stepped up his game but it's most certainly not the first time I've been locked in a room before, Yakko," Max chuckled slightly.
"B-but you were all snappy before- I thought-"
"Oh, right- sorry about that. I was just-" Max sighed. "I'm just worried what Dad'll think. He's... a bit of a worry-wart sometimes," He scratched the back of his neck.
Yakko bit his lip. "What does that mean for... us?"
Us.
"Hey, don't worry. I'll figure out something that'll keep both you and your brother in the clear- as well as a way to also not make him and at your parents or the kingdom. This isn't my first time," Max reassured.
"How?" Yakko asked.
Max shrugged. "I'll think of something. I always do," Max punched his arm lightly. Yakko laughed.
"Speaking of your brother though..." Max said, and Yakko felt his tone change.
"Let him know I'm not mad or anything, despite lying to me and stuff. He's probably just confused," He said.
"Yeah..." Yakko kicked the ground.
"Also... don't take this the wrong way, but I really think you should be spending more time with your siblings. They probably feel a bit neglected or something, which is why he locked me in that tower and stuff- which from what I've seen doesn't seem like the type of thing he'd usually do," He said, and Yakko felt a knot form in his stomach from the guilt.
"Yeah, he wouldn't. He hates that place- grandma locked him up there twice when he was a kid... bad memories. I swear it'll never happen again." Yakko said.
"Ah..." Max nodded his head.
"But... you're right. I've been neglecting them... I'm just sorry it's gotten this far," Yakko sighed, rubbing his forehead.
"Like I said- no big deal. You just need to go to them and apologize and stuff," Max assured.
"Yeah, I'll do that," Yakko promised. Max smiled a little.
"Good," He punched his arm again. "Now, it's really dark out, and I really have to go before it's too late," Max gestured to the door.
"Right, yes- you need to get going," Yakko agreed.
"I'll write to you," Max swore as he started to head out.
"I know, I know," Yakko smiled.
With a salute goodbye, Max ran out and left the foyer.
Well, all things considered, that could've been significantly worse.
Which meant he totally snapped at Wakko for nothing.
Shit.
Yakko had some serious apologizing to do.
"Yakko? Have you seen Wakko?" His mother entered the foyer as Yakko began to climb back up.
"No, i ran straight to Max. Why? Is he not in his room?" Yakko asked.
"He's not in the playroom, his room, any of the closests I've stopped by- I'm getting really worried," Her voice cracked despite trying to keep it together.
Shit.
"It's been a long night, I'm sure you're just stressed out, mom. You should lay down- I can search for him," Yakko said as he reached the top.
"Yakko, he could be anywhere. I-i can't rest until I know he's okay... Oh god, I feel just terrible," She whispered that last part to herself, clearly also being overwhelmed with guilt of her own.
"Look, we can get the guards to look as well, it'll be okay, we can find him and apologize," Yakko held one of her hands and gave it a good squeeze. Lena squeezed back.
"I'll give the orders..." She said, before squeezing his hand once more and going down the stairs.
Yakko had some serious, serious apologizing to do.
.o0o.
The first place Yakko checked was the playroom, but as his mother had said it was empty. He thought perhaps there was a slight chance Wakko had been moving locations, as under the table was one of his favorite hiding places, but alas, he wasn't there.
He then decided it would just be best to look through every single room he stumbled into, but most were empty or full fo servants who just gave him confused looks before he awkwardly stepped out.
He did run into Scratchnsniff though, and he gave him a quick run down and he too agreed to help.
After an hour and a half of searching, Yakko's concern had nearly tripled as he ran out of ideas as to where he could be. He looked through every room, every closet, every nook and cranny but he was simply nowhere to be found inside the castle.
However, as he was about to start all over again, it occured to the crown prince that perhaps his brother wasn't inside at all- but hiding somewhere in the gardens.
In the dark.
Late at night.
In the cold.
Yakko hurried to grab a blanket, his coat, and a lantern before rushing out to the garden
It was a windy night, and the brisk air sent a chill down his spine almost immediately. However, he just tightened his coat as he began his search anyway, determined to make that apology.
He seriously shouldn't have blown up so much. Max wasn't even mad or anything- Yakko blew it way out of proportion. Mom was right- Wakko was just feeling neglected. Hell, Dot probably was too, which meant he'd have to apologize to her too.
God- with how many times Yakko called him an idiot it's no surprise he ran off and away like this. An insult straight from dear ol' Grandma.
Yakko really had been slipping these past few months.
Though Wakko did still cross a line... but that line could've been prevented had he just listened sooner and not neglected them.
Yakko truly was going to have to make it up to them- both of them.
For awhile, Yakko wandered around the garden, holding his jacket close when there was a gust of wind, and shouting his brother's name to no response. His worry grew more and more as it grew later and later and darker and darker.
He wasn't going to give up though, he needed to find him.
"Wakko!!" he called out once again.
Still no response.
Yakko began to worry more. He had practically searched all of the garden by now- if he wasn't out here he was probably outside of the castle walls, where he could easily be lost or scared or hurt or worse, even.
Oh god, Yakko had really, really screwed up.
"Wakko!!!" He called out again, feeling a lump form in his throat.
God- he couldn't start crying now, he still had to find him.
Yakko wiped his face before going into the last place he hadn't looked- the formation of hedges that led to the flower garden his parents loved working on the most. Yakko continued on in, calling for his brother over and over again, begging to be heard and for a response.
Still, nothing.
Until- out of the corner of his eye, he saw him.
He was curled into a ball and shivering tightly, with his legs curled up under his shirt to keep warm. His face was still tear stained from before, but he seemed asleep.
"Wakko!" Yakko gasped, running to him and quickly wrapping him in the blanket.
"Y-yakko-?" Wakko snapped awake, holding the blanket tightly.
"Wakko, we've been looking everywhere for you- why-?" Yakko stopped, realizing 'why' was a stupid question. "I'm bringing you inside- don't fight," he said, as he picked him up.
Thankfully, Wakko didn't, and Yakko successfully brought him back inside and he took his little brother to the family study and quickly put on a fire to help him warm up while his brother sat in silence.
"Wakko!" Dot appeared in the open doorway of the study in her nightgown. "You're okay!" She rushed and hugged him.
"Y-yeah..." Wakko looked at the ground, but still hugged back (though rather weakly).
"I'm glad you're here Dot- I need to talk to both of you," Yakko said, going to the door and closing it. Dot winced and took a seat next to Wakko. Yakko cringed at that, taking off his coat and putting it on a hook before sitting in a chair of his own across from them.
They all sat in silence a moment, with none of them really knowing how to start. God- how do you start a conversation like this?
"Y-y-yakko, I-i'm s-so, so, so, so, so sorry," Wakko sniffled. "I-i knew it wasn't right b-but I-i really thought he was gonna- i didn't wanna hurt you- I just-"
Yakko sighed. "I know, Wak. I'm sorry for shouting at you so much. You aren't an idiot, or a moron. If anyone here's the idiot, it's me," He admitted.
"I... neglected you two. I was so blinded by Max that i seriously hurt you guys and I'm really sorry," Yakko said.
"I-it's okay, Yakko-" Dot tried to smile, but Yakko cut her off.
"It isn't okay, Dot. I seriously hurt you two. I said some really hurtful things, and I need to own up to it." He ran his fingers through his hair as he looked at the fire.
Another stretch of silence.
"Do... do you hate me..?" Wakko asked so quietly one could hardly hear it over the crackle of the fire.
"Of course not Wakko, I could never hate you," Yakko swore.
"E-even though I locked your boyfriend away? A-and tried to soak him with water? And covered your hands in spices so it hurt? A-and took and read your letters?" Wakko sniffled as tears began to stream down his face as he gripped the blanket tighter.
"Wakko, I could never hate you, you're my little brother." Yakko said. "Though those things did really hurt, I know you've learned your lesson and won't do it again, right?"
Wakko nodded his head.
"And for the record Dot, I don't hate you either," Yakko looked at his little sister, who was hugging the pillow from her chair.
"Yakko...? Do you... consider us like friends?" She asked nervously.
"I think we're friends in a way... but in a different way I think family is more than that, you know?" Yakko shrugged, not knowing how to answer.
"Not... really..." Dot looked away.
It then occurred to Yakko that they hadn't had any friends either.
God- he had spent all this time begin upset they couldn't be happy for him when they literally couldn't understand-
Oh god- Yakko was deeply embarrassed.
"I'm so sorry for getting so bad at you two- I didn't know you felt like that. I-" He sighed. "I think you two need to start meeting some kids around the kingdom and elsewhere."
"But I don't want anyone else- I want you two," Wakko frowned.
"Being friends with other people doesn't mean we're gonna disappear on you- not anymore. I promise, I'm going to make up for all of the time I neglected you two." Yakko side tracked.
"And having friends is a good thing, it means you're growing as a person and forming connections outside of your family can be really rewarding," Yakko said.
Wakko bit his lip, still unsure.
"I'm not saying immediately, I'm just saying... perhaps it'd be a good idea. But we don't need to rush it- I still need to make up that lost time," Yakko chuckled weakly.
Neither of the younger Warners replied, both preferring to look at the fire sleepily.
Yakko sighed. "I think it's late- we should tell mom you're okay and we should go to bed."
"M-mom's worried about me?" Wakko sheeped.
"Of course she is, you ran off and were nowhere to be found for hours," Yakko said.
"R-right... I should apologize..." Wakko agreed with his elder brother.
"Yeah, I should go to bed," Dot yawned, which made Yakko chuckle.
"C'mon, let's go," He said, as he put out the fire, as both of sibs were clearly very toasty.
They didn't have to walk very far before they saw their parents, both looking very stressed before they saw their children and quickly ran to them, giving Wakko big hugs with a jumble of "are you okay? are you hurt?"s, etc. etc.
"I-I'm okay- I'm so sorry for what I-i did- I just-"
"I know sweetie, I know... it's just-" Lena sighed. "I'm just... I'm just happy you're okay now."
"We're both happy," William inserted himself, which made Wakko laugh a little.
"C'mon, let's get you to bed," Lena said, scooping her youngest boy up and carrying him to his bedroom.
"...can you carry me?" Dot asked William, who laughed and nodded, scooping her up too.
"Awww, what about me?" Yakko joked to his father.
To his surprise though, his father just smirked and grabbed Yakko with one arm and carried him away too.
Right, his dad was a knight. Sometimes Yakko forgot that.
Soon enough, he was dropped off at his and Wakko's room, and Dot dropped off at hers across the hall (though she got tucked in). The brother's changed into their pajamas and were about to go to bed, when Wakko stopped Yakko.
"Yakko..?" He asked.
"Yeah?" Yakko raised an eyebrow.
"Is... Max mad?" Wakko looked down.
"No, he's okay. It's not his first time being locked in a room, he was just tired and worried about his dad."
"...would you still be mad at me if he was?"
Yakko paused.
"No, I think I would've had my senses knocked back into me anyway," Yakko said. "Mom couldn't let me be an idiot for too long."
"Okay," Wakko bit his lip and turned away.
"C'mere," He opened his arms. Wakko quickly understood and gave Yakko a hug.
Yakko didn't realize just how much he missed Wakko's hugs.
"What you did did cross a line, but you get it now and that's all that matters: that you learn from your mistakes and make up for it, like I am," Yakko said. Wakko nodded.
"I-i'm sorry for making you worried too," Wakko said.
"It's okay... you're safe and here now, that's all that matters," Yakko hugged him a little tighter.
"...I'm also sorry I keep calling him your boyfriend..." Wakko said. "I know you don't like it."
Yakko laughed at that one.
"It's a little funnier now... but yeah, maybe cut that out for the moment," He snorted. Wakko laughed too, letting go of the embrace and going to his bed.
"G'night Yakko," Wakko said, blowing out the light by his bed.
"G'night Wak," Yakko said, blowing out his light and climbing into his own bed.
Both of them had made a lot of huge mistakes, and both were still a little more hurt than either would ever say, but both knew they wouldn't make those mistakes again. They were gonna make up for it,
No matter what it took.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 The End
#my fics#yakko warner#animaniacs#wakko warner#angst#max goof#feels#yax#dot warner#queen angelina ii#sir william the good#lots of apologizing folks B)#this took me awhile to write omstly due to procrastination#bc fr when i sat down it write it took like- 3 hrs tops#i was just hella procrastinating lmaooo#anyway hope y'all like it
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what happens in part 5? do they start dating?
A/n: slow your roll bud...all good things come to those who wait 😌
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Previously (Pt. 4)
Back pressed into a cold counter and both of you pulling each other impossibly closer. Grayson bites your bottom lip slightly, then pulls back, looking you in the eyes.
Panting, you watch him with hungry eyes and grip the hair on the back of his neck a little harder, pulling him back down to meet your lips.
“Honeyy, I’m home!” Mando’s voice sings as a door starts to open and Grayson pulls away so quickly he bites your lip again, this time hard.
“Ouch!” You yelp, hand going up to your lip as Mando and a group of people walk in.
He raises his brow at the two of us, a knowing smirk starting to form. Grayson swallows nervously, “Y/n uh-“ Grayson runs his hand through his hair, “she ran into the doorway. Busted her lip open. I was going to help her with it.”
You give Grayson a look that says, ‘that’s the best excuse you could come up with?’ and Mando just hums, crossing his arms, “Mhm, sure.”
“No, seriously!” You say, trying to sound convincing, keeping your hand on your lip, wincing in fake pain, “You know me- always running into things.”
Grayson laughs and you join in, the two of you looking at Mando and praying he doesn’t press the issue, “Riight,” he drawls.
Before he can say anything else, Ethan and everyone from the backyard comes back in and start greeting the new people. That’s when you really start looking at the rest of the group.
It’s Mando, Dylan, and Chase. Followed by Leah, Kayla, and Aly. You try not to groan outwardly at the sight of Kayla. She’s been trying to get Grayson to make her his girlfriend since sophomore year of college and even though he turned her down at least three times she hasn’t gotten the message.
It doesn’t help that you know, for a fact, that Grayson’s fucked her twice. That’s what started this whole thing because he was known for never sleeping with the same girl twice. In his defense, he only slept with her again because he was so drunk he thought she was our other friend Becca. But Kayla doesn’t know that, or she does and ignores it, either way she annoys the shit out of you.
“Alright! Let’s get everyone into their rooms,” Ethan announces and everyone gathers back around the island, Grayson, Ethan, Kristina, and you all standing on one side. Ethan pulls out his phone and goes to a list in his notes.
“We already wrote out who was staying where but if you want to switch rooms, it’s no big deal,” Grayson adds and Ethan nods in agreement.
“There’s two master bedrooms and then four separate bedrooms with two bathrooms to share. Me and Kris are in one master and Gray and y/n are in the other, Mando you’re with Ryan-“ Ethans voice is cut off by a cough.
He looks up from his phone and we look at an awkward, blushing Mando, “I was- uh- I was actually hoping to share with- um- Mia,” he stutters out and Mia blushes too.
You smile at the two and Grayson chuckles, “Thats fine, Mando. The room chart isn’t set in stone,” Ethan smiles too and erases something on his phone, typing something else.
You eyebrows furrow as what he said finally hits you. Oh hell no, “Okay, now-“
“Where’d you say I was sleeping?” You cut Ethan off and he over with raised eyebrows and Grayson blushes.
“You’re sharing with me,” Grayson says and you scoff.
“No, I’m not.”
“C’mon, y/n, it’s not that big of a deal. We’ve shared before,” Grayson sighs.
“Can’t I just share with Ryan?” At the sound of his name, Ryan coughs on his drink.
“I’ll share with him,” Kayla has the nerve to squeak out, raising her hand like we’re in a fucking classroom or something. She glares at you, then cuts her eyes to eye fuck Grayson, “If y/n doesn’t want to.”
Grayson looks at you, eyes pleading, “please, y/n. Please,” he whispers and you roll your eyes.
Sighing, you shake your head, “Nevermind. I’m fine, actually. Sorry to interrupt.”
Kayla scoffs and had the audacity to look offended, “seriously?”
You raise your eyebrow at her, “seriously.”
Ethan coughs and starts again, “Alrighty then- Mando and Mia- first room on the right. Ryan and Chase, second room on the right. Dylan and Aly- you okay with sharing a room?” He looks at the two siblings and they nod, “Okay, first room on the left. Kayla and Leah you’re in the second room on the left. Go off and do whatever,” Ethan dismisses everyone.
“Where’s our room?” You ask as everyone starts to disperse.
“Don’t worry, I’ll show you,” Grayson says.
“Oh, ok,” you say dumbly.
Grayson heads back over towards the door and grabs our bags. He nods his head in the direction of the hallway everyone walked down and you follow him. Heading down the hallway in silence, you realize he’s walking past all the rooms. We turn at the end, coming to a staircase, “I thought all the rooms were on one floor?” You ask, very confused.
“No, the main master was originally on it’s own floor. It was my dad and ma’s but when dad got really sick and couldn’t walk upstairs-“ He pauses for a second, you place your hand on his arm gently, knowing it’s hard for him to talk about it, “They converted two of the other rooms downstairs into one master,” Grayson finishes as we get to the top.
There’s a small hallway, two doors, one on the left down further and a double door to our right, “What’s down there?”
“The study,” Grayson says bluntly, and you know not to ask more about the room.
Instead, he opens the large double doors, “Oh my God,” slips out of your mouth as you walk into the large room.
Large doesn’t even begin to describe it, though. The ceiling’s vaulted with a dark wood. A California king bed sits on one wall, then on the same wall as the double doors there’s a leather couch, it faces a stone fireplace with a flat-screen above it, a bookshelf on one side, meeting up with the wall-of-windows that is across from the bed.
“Go look at the bathroom and closet,” Grayson says, obviously amused by your reactions.
Walking to the second set of double doors, you gasp audibly when you see the bathroom. The bathroom’s dark grey and emerald green. The whole left wall is a counter, two sinks and a built-in vanity at the end. The glass shower’s to the right, taking up almost the whole wall, there’s two rainfall shower heads and six other shower heads spread out on the walls. At the end of the shower, there’s a small partition with the toilet, giving it some privacy but not messing with the airiness of the room. The best part of the bathroom though, is the large window looking out at the mountains, above an egg-shaped tub big enough for almost everyone downstairs. Off to the side, after the toilet, is a door. Opening the door, you’re confused as you come into another room. This one’s smaller, but still bigger than your bathroom at home. There’s a seat in the middle, a ceiling-to-floor three-way mirror, and a door that leads back into the bedroom.
Seeing two more doors you open one, seeing a regular-sized walk-in, with wood drawers and shelves. There’s a few clothes already in here. Opening the second door, you stop in your tracks, “Holy shit.”
The closet is in an L-shape, a mini-crystal chandelier hangs over the middle of the room between two small, square islands. The walls are head-to-toe cabinets, drawers, and racks. It’s all in a lighter wood than the rest of the bathroom and there’s mint green instead of emerald. The seat in the middle is even mint green. Damn, Lisa boojee as fuck. Walking back out, you see Grayson putting his stuff in the smaller closet.
“Nice, isn’t it?” He asks, not turning around to look at you.
“How did your parents afford this?” It’s the main question that’s been on your mind since learning they owned it. Everyone knows the twins are upper-middle class but this? This is upper-upper class standards.
Grayson glances over his shoulder at you, “When one of dad’s old friends found out E and I were going to school out here, he gave the house to my parents for like, a fourth of what it was worth,” he shrugs and turns to you.
“That was so awesome of him.”
“Are we just going to ignore what happened earlier?” The edge to his voice takes you by surprise, looking up at him you see his expression is guarded but you can see the fear of rejection in his eyes.
“I-uh,” you bite your lip nervously, looking down at the ground before glancing back up at him, “I don’t know,” you shrug.
He narrows his eyes at you, “You don’t know?”
“Do you want to ignore it?” You try to sound unaffected but you can hear the emotion in it.
Grayson’s facade cracks slightly at the sound of your voice and your nervous attitude. He doesn’t want to intimidate you, “Look-“ he runs a hand through his hair, “Let’s talk about this in the bedroom.”
You nod silently and follow him out of the closet and the bathroom, sitting on the edge of the bed. He sits on the arm of the couch, facing you. Looking out the windows you still can’t believe you get to wake up to this view everyday for two weeks. It’s also a nice distraction from the 6’0 buff god staring at you.
“Are we going to talk about this like adults or are you going to run away again?” Grayson’s voice cuts through the tension in the room and you flinch at the slight infliction in his tone.
You take a deep breath, looking at him. Something in your gut tells you this is it. You are face-to-face with a fork in the road. Nothing is ever going to be the same and once you start down one road, you can never turn back. And as much as you want to ignore it and pretend everything’s fine- this talk is long-overdue.
You close your eyes for a moment, all your best memories together flashing through your mind, before taking you back to that party a few weeks ago. The memory is sobering and you open your eyes.
Staring into the green-and-brown abyss of Grayson’s eyes, you state, “Let’s talk,” in a voice calm enough to make the Dalai Lama think ‘dang, that’s a calm girl’.
A/n: okay okay i am so sorry for the long wait!! I hope you enjoy this part because it was so hard to figure out where I wanted it to go. There’s only going to be a few more parts but I am very very excited for what’s to come. Once again- thank you for the patience, love, and support I’ve gotten. It truly means the world! Also you know I had to leave y’all on a cliffhanger for now ;)
#grayson dolan#dolan twins#grayson#grayson dolan imagine#frat!gray masterlist#my writing#frat!gray#asks#anon#concept#grayson dolan concept#sophs blurbs
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Just Practice - Chapter 18
it’s finally over. here’s the last chapter. important notes at the end for those that are interested. thank you all so much for your support. it’s been a wild ride, and i’m glad i got to see it through to the end.
ao3 link
It was perhaps the first time that Annabeth had ever felt nervous standing in front of the Jackson residence. She shifted uneasily on her heels and wiped her palms on her jeans before knocking on the front door. Usually, she felt more at home here than anywhere else in the world, but she felt entitled to a little anxiety given the circumstances. Not long after, Sally opened the front door and showed her inside with a smile.
“Hi, honey. It’s been a while, huh?” Sally said.
Annabeth nodded and offered her a small smile. “Yeah. It has. Things have been pretty hectic lately.”
“Percy told me you were in the hospital for a while. Are you alright?” Sally said, closing the door behind her.
“Yeah, I just injured my leg at a meet,” Annabeth said.
“Oh no, what happened?” Sally asked, furrowing her brow.
“I, um, tore my ACL,” Annabeth mumbled. “It’s still recovering, but I can walk on my own now. It’ll be a while before I can start running again, though.”
“I am so sorry to hear that. I would have visited, but I’ve been out all month doing more of those goddamned book tours,” Sally huffed.
“Oh, it’s no problem,” Annabeth said. “I appreciate the thought though.”
There was a pause and Annabeth looked around the living room without meaning to. Sally gave her a smile and said, “If you’re looking for Percy, he’s upstairs in his room.”
Annabeth flushed and nodded. “Thanks. I’m gonna head on up then.”
“I’ll be taking Estelle out shopping, and Paul won’t be home until later today,” Sally informed her.
Annabeth blinked, somewhat confused. “Oh, alright. I’ll see you later then.”
“You should have plenty of time to yourselves,” Sally said, giving her a knowing look. “I’m guessing that you’ll need it judging by the sorry state that my son has been in the past few weeks.”
Annabeth’s face turned even redder and she nodded and made her way up to Percy’s room. She paused in front of his bedroom door and screwed her eyes and took a deep breath. Annabeth heard him in the shower, which diffused her nervousness before she stepped inside his room.
Percy’s bedroom hadn’t changed much, if at all, over the years. The room was sparsely decorated - almost nothing adorned the cream colored walls. There was still a full sized bed nestled against one corner of the room, draped with a fluffy blanket he hadn’t bothered to fold. Blue curtains framed a window overlooking the willow tree in his backyard, the one they used to climb when they were kids. On the other end of the room was an office chair, piled high with messy clothes, sitting in front of a well worn cherrywood desk. The desk was littered with stray homework papers, half-empty energy drinks, and a bobble head of some athlete Annabeth didn’t recognize.
Annabeth wandered over and looked at the four photos he had taped to the wall above the desk. One of them was with his mother at the beach in Montauk from back when he was a freshman. Another was one of the entire family at an amusement park. There was one with him and all of their friends sitting in front of a bonfire at Piper’s birthday party that past summer. And the final one was one of him with her, his hand thrown carelessly around her shoulder as she leaned into the crook of his neck, a contented smile on her face. The soft look on his face, like she had just hung the moon for him, brought a lump to her throat.
“Annabeth?”
Annabeth jumped back and turned to see Percy standing in the doorway, towel drying his hair. He was wearing an old swim team shirt from middle school and his penguin pajamas. The familiar scent of his body wash clung to his skin, unmasked by the cologne he usually wore. There was a careful expression on his face, like she had caught him unawares.
“H-Hey,” Annabeth said breathlessly.
“I, uh, wasn’t expecting you for another hour,” Percy said cautiously.
“Sorry,” Annabeth said, rocking on her heels. “Should I leave?”
“No, it’s fine,” Percy said quickly. “Why don’t you sit down?”
Annabeth nodded and sat on his bed. Percy rushed over to gather the clothes that had piled on top of the chair and hurriedly stuffed them in his closet. He hung the towel from his open window sill to dry and sat across from her in the office chair.
There was an uncharacteristically nervous look on his face, but it actually comforted Annabeth. She would have felt awkward if she was the only one feeling apprehensive.
“I, um, didn’t see you at school this week,” Annabeth said.
Percy rubbed the back of his neck. “Needed some time off. I haven’t been feeling very good.”
Guilt bubbled in the pit of Annabeth’s stomach. She knew that was her fault, but that he was too nice to tell her that.
She cleared her throat and said, “Sorry to hear that. Are you doing better now?”
Percy breathed a laugh and shrugged. “More or less.”
There was an awkward pause before Percy gestured to her leg. “How’s your knee?”
Annabeth glanced down at it and quickly looked back at him. “Oh, um, it’s fine. I had surgery done a few weeks back and it went well. I’ve started doing physical therapy now, but it’ll still be a while before I can start running again.”
“But you should make a full recovery, right?” Percy asked tentatively.
Annabeth nodded and stared down at her lap, playing with her fingers. “Yeah, the doctors said there shouldn’t be any issues since it was only a partial tear, but we won’t know for sure until I finish therapy.”
“That sounds like good news,” Percy said carefully.
Annabeth mustered a smile and said, “Yeah. About as good as I could hope for anyways.”
There was another brief pause and then Annabeth said, “I, um, also talked to the coach at Berkeley and told him about my injury.”
Percy’s leg bounced up and down. “And what did he say?”
“Well, he wasn’t happy about it,” Annabeth began. “But they’re not rescinding my scholarship.”
Percy made to move out of his seat and give her a hug, a grin splitting across his face, before he thought better of it and sat back down. A crushing sensation formed in the hollow of her chest as his grin waned into a sheepish smile.
“That’s wonderful, Annabeth,” Percy said softly. “I’m sure that’s a huge relief-”
“I’m sorry for how I acted at the hospital,” Annabeth blurted.
The smile slid off Percy’s face, but Annabeth powered through anyways. “You were only trying to help, and I lashed out at you for no good reason. That was awful of me, and I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for that.”
Percy nodded in a clipped manner and said, “Apology accepted.”
Annabeth was surprised that Percy hadn’t tried to downplay the whole thing by saying it wasn’t a big deal. A lump formed in her throat - her words must have cut deeper than she realized.
“It really hurt, hearing all that, but you had every right to say it,” Percy continued.
Annabeth shook her head and said, “No, I- I was just being cruel.”
He offered her a strained smile and shrugged helplessly. “You were still right though. About all of it. There’s no excuse for me not telling you about Kara, for hiding so much from you.”
Annabeth pursed her lips and resisted the urge to argue with him.
Percy hunched forward in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair violently. “I’ve been thinking about it non-stop, trying to figure out why I did that, but I still don’t really get it. I want to tell you, so badly, but there’s a part of me that just can’t. It’s really fucking frustrating and confusing.”
He paused and exhaled forcefully. “Honestly, the only thing it’s made me realize is how fucked up I am.”
The pain and bitterness in his voice tore up Annabeth inside. “That’s not true.”
“It is,” Percy said, shaking his head insistently. “I wish I could just show you somehow. Make you understand-”
“Percy, good person,” she stressed. “Maybe you can’t see it, but I can-”
“Well, you don’t actually know me,” Percy snapped.
Annabeth must have looked as devastated as she felt because Percy’s eyes immediately swelled with guilt and repentance.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that,” he said quietly.
“No, you’re right,” Annabeth admitted shakily. “I don’t really know you. I thought I did, but I was wrong.”
“That’s not your fault,” Percy insisted. “I’m just- it’s fucking impossible for me to ever let anyone actually see me.”
Then who have I been seeing this entire time?
The thought hung heavily in her mind but she forced herself to ignore it. Still, she found it hard not to let despair swallow her whole. She couldn’t help thinking about how Reyna had said that at a certain point, you had to accept that there was really nothing that you could do. She was clearly out of her depth here. Honestly, she stood a snowball’s chance in hell of actually saying something helpful.
She sat there in silence and watched the conflicted look on Percy’s face. His lips were pressed in a thin line and his eyes shone with focused intensity, like he was at a swim meet. If this was only going to cause him so much pain, she never should have told him she wanted to talk. At the same time, she couldn’t help feeling like she needed to do something for him. Whatever he was holding inside was clearly eating at him. She couldn’t just leave it alone and act like it wasn’t her problem. Percy never would have done so if their roles were reversed.
Percy surprised her by punching his leg in frustration and releasing a shuddering exhale before he looked at her and spoke.
“No- No matter what, I can’t help thinking this all points back to Gabe.”
Annabeth furrowed her brow. “Your step-father?”
Percy nodded and said, “I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately. It’s weird, but he’s wrapped up in all this. I just know it.”
Annabeth dug her fingernails into her palms. Percy never talked about Gabe, but Annabeth had more than an inkling of what he did - how some days Percy came to school with a sullen look, wincing when he sat down, and gingerly probed parts of his body when he thought nobody was watching; days when he hardly smiled or even said a word to her and she would wordlessly slide him her homework at lunch to copy.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Annabeth said.
Despite what Piper said about needing to press Percy, Annabeth knew there were some wounds that were better left untouched.
Percy balled his hands into fists and shook his head. “No, I have to. Otherwise, I’ll lose you for good.”
Annabeth’s heart squeezed in her chest, so she took his hands in hers and said, “Look Percy, I don’t want to pressure you into doing something you’re uncomfortable with. It’s fine if there are things you can’t talk about. You have nothing to prove to me. No matter what, you’re still my best friend, and you’re never going to lose me. Okay?”
“Really?” Percy asked quietly.
The way his voice sounded, raw and bleeding, made self-loathing fester in the pit of her stomach.
“Yes, really,” Annabeth said tersely. “I’m so sorry that I forced you into a corner like this. I was wrong about what I said at the hospital. I did something terrible to you.”
“Don’t say that, Annabeth,” Percy said tightly. “It’s not your fault. At all. You’ve been nothing but endlessly patient with me. I- I’m just not strong enough.”
Annabeth shook her head. “You’re the strongest person I know, but you don’t have to do this all on your own. There’s probably not a whole lot that I can do to help, but at least I can help share your burden and listen.”
Percy was quiet for a minute before he looked at her with a hard gaze. “Are you sure about this? It’s not a very fun story to listen to.”
“Yes,” Annabeth said immediately.
“If it ever gets to be too much, let me know,” Percy said sternly.
Annabeth took his hand in hers and squeezed it. “Don’t worry about me. I’m here for you.”
Percy exhaled forcefully and nodded before staring down at his lap. A minute or two passed before he was ready to speak again, and Annabeth could see conflict and pain swirl in his eyes like whirlpools of emotion.
“He was nice at the start, you know?” Percy said quietly. “He wasn’t all that bad the first few months after they got married. Sometimes he’d get me some candy on his way home from work. Teach me how to throw a baseball. Normal stuff like that. But then, at some point, things changed. Still can’t figure out why. Like, was he just hiding how awful he was the entire time or did something change in him? Guess it doesn’t matter now.”
He paused for a moment and said, “The first time I remember him hitting her, I was eight years old. He was really tearing into me about getting in trouble at school, telling me how much of a fuck up I was, how I was a stupid kid who couldn’t do anything right, and mom defended me.”
“At some point, he got so pissed he chucked a plate at my head and barely missed. It shattered on the wall and gave me this,” Percy said, tugging down his shirt sleeve to reveal the crescent shaped scar on his shoulder.
Annabeth traced the scar with trembling fingers and tried to stomach the nausea and rage she felt brewing inside her.
“Mom went ballistic after that, but that just pissed him off,” Percy said slowly. “Gabe hit her so hard her head hit the wall and started bleeding. You can still see the dent downstairs in the living room. Then, he grabbed me by the hair and forced me to look at her, crumpled on the floor. I can still remember the stink of cheap cigarettes on his breath and him whispering in my ear, ‘This is all your fault, kid.’”
“Christ,” Annabeth whispered.
“Yeah, I know right,” Percy said, smiling wryly. “And that’s just one story - I have hundreds of them. Like, remember how I forgot my field trip form to the zoo in 5th grade?”
When Annabeth nodded, Percy said, “Well, they had to send me home because there weren’t any teachers at school that day. Mom was at work, so Gabe had to pick me up. He was super pissed that I made him miss his poker game, so he was bitching at me the entire ride home. At some point, I snapped and told him to fuck off. Next thing I know, he punches me in the stomach so hard that I puked all over the floor of his Camaro. Of course, that only made him even angrier, so he beat the shit out of me and made me clean up the mess.”
Annabeth tried to keep her voice steady. “Tell me you told somebody.”
Percy smiled humorlessly and said, “And who would I tell? My mom? The woman working three jobs, married to an abusive piece of shit that hits her, with a kid who only ever seems to fuck up at school and embarrass her? No, she had enough on her plate as it was. I couldn’t add more.”
“Then the teachers-”
“Annabeth, you remember how it was for me in school. The teachers hated me,” Percy said bitterly. “To them, I was just a trouble-maker. How could I turn to them? And besides, even if I did, what good would it do? Gabe would just deny it and take it out on me or mom later.”
Percy leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Eventually, I just got used to it. He was smart about it too. Always made sure my mom wasn’t around and that the wounds wouldn’t show anywhere someone might see. And over time, it just become something normal, and I got used to never telling someone about it.”
He paused for a moment and clutched at the fabric of his shirt, over his stomach. “Even telling you right now is like physically painful for me. Like my stomach is in knots and every cell in my body is telling me to run. A part of me keeps whispering, no matter how much I try and ignore it, that I’m not allowed to ask for help, that I- that I deserve this because it’s my fault.”
Annabeth took a sharp inhale and bit her quivering lower lip to keep from crying. She had always known Percy had had a troubled life, but she had never expected that it would be this horrific. He was the best person that she knew and he deserved so much more than this. It was profoundly unfair and tragic and wrong and she didn’t know how to fix it or if it was even possible to fix it.
“None of that was your fault, Percy,” Annabeth said tersely. “He was a sick, twisted piece of shit, and you shouldn’t believe a single word that came out of his mouth.”
“I’ve been telling myself that for the past five years, Annabeth, but there’s some part of me that doesn’t believe it,” Percy said softly. “That fucked up shit he did and said to me is still there, rattling around in my head, and I can’t make it stop.”
He balled his hands into fists. “He sort of beat into me that I was responsible for everything. It was always my fault because I was a bad kid or a fuck up. And he was kind of right too. Mom was having such a hard time back then and I never made things easier for her either, always getting into trouble at school. I tried to be a good kid. I really did. It just wasn’t ever good enough. I just kept letting people down and that hasn’t ever stopped.”
Before Annabeth could interject, he looked at her and said, “You asked me at the hospital why I never told you about Kara. The truth is that I hate myself for being so shitty to her. Like, I drove her into a corner and made her feel so insecure and alone that I forced her into cheating on me. I should’ve been a better boyfriend to her-”
“Percy, what Kara did was her own decision,” Annabeth interrupted. “Maybe you could have done a better job, but you can’t force someone to cheat on you. Kara even admitted that it was her fault and said she wanted to apologize to you for it.”
He stared at her for a few beats and a myriad of conflicted emotions flashed in his eyes before he shrugged noncommittally and turned away. Annabeth ground her teeth together and moved off the bed before she even realized what she was doing. She framed his face with her hands and forced him to look into her eyes.
“Listen to me, you are a good person,” Annabeth said tightly.
Percy averted his gaze. “I’m really not, Annabeth. I’m just trying to make up for the fact that I’m- well, me.”
“And I’m telling that it’s okay not to be perfect! Because that’s the standard you’re holding yourself to! We all hurt and let each other down, Percy. That’s fucking normal!” Annabeth fumed.
“What’s the fucking point if nothing ever changes?” Percy shouted, his voice cracking. “I try and try and try, and I still keep hurting the people I care about, and I’m just- I’m so fucking sick of it, Annabeth.”
“People hurt each other all the time, Percy, sometimes just by existing! You’re looking at a prime fucking example of that,” Annabeth shouted, jabbing a thumb at herself.
“Like, how many times have I hurt you through my own carelessness? And yeah, it breaks my heart sometimes knowing how awful I’ve been to you, but I’m trying to be better because you’re the most important person in the world to me and I don’t want to lose you. And I learned that from you! Because isn’t that what you’ve always done? Tried to be better?” she demanded.
At this, Percy was silent, and Annabeth sat back on the bed, sighing. “That’s what actually matters, Percy: the fact that you’ve never stopped trying. You don’t always have to nail yourself to the cross anytime you fail.”
There was a pause before Percy quietly said, “I- I don’t know how not to.”
“Well, it starts by acknowledging that it’s okay to put yourself first sometimes,” Annabeth said, softening her voice. “Your mom once told me that you would rather put yourself in pain to ease someone else’s suffering, that you feel responsible for how others feel. Like, I know that Gabe was the one that taught you that, but that’s really fucking unhealthy. You need to see a professional therapist or counselor to help you process all the shit he put you through and teach you a better way to handle it.”
“And what if that doesn’t work? What if it’s too late to help me?” Percy asked.
“Then we’ll figure it out when the time comes,” Annabeth said, repeating what he had told her at the hospital.
“I’m not sure I’m worth all that effort,” Percy said tightly.
“Well, I’m your best friend and I think you’re the sweetest, kindest boy there ever was and that you’re worth the whole world,” Annabeth said.
She thought he would argue with her again, but she was surprised when Percy scrunched up his face and looked away from her, blinking back tears. He rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand and nodded with a sniffle. Her heart welled up inside her chest and she felt a sense of fond exasperation rush through her, making her smile to herself.
Oh, you dumb, stupid boy.
“Thank you,” Percy mumbled.
Annabeth shook her head, even though he couldn’t see her. “There’s nothing to thank me for.”
It was a while before he looked at her again, and when he did, he looked up at her shyly through his stupidly long eyelashes.
“D-Did you mean what you said in the hospital?” he whispered.
“Hmm?”
Percy’s face turned a gentle shade of vermilion. “Um, about being in love with me?”
Annabeth’s face turned serious. “Yes. I should have chosen a better time, but I meant it. One hundred percent.”
“Oh.”
She couldn’t help the way her lips curled upwards. “That’s all you have to say to me? ‘Oh’?”
Percy’s face turned even redder. “Um, I’ve been dreaming about this moment for like seven years, so you’ll have to forgive me for the fact that my brain is kind of fried right now.”
Annabeth raised an eyebrow and tried not to look smug. “Seven years, huh? That is a long time to hold your peace.”
“In my defense, you always hated it when people said anything about us dating, so I tried to kill off that part of myself and fully commit to just being friends,” Percy said.
“I’m sorry about that,” Annabeth said seriously. “I must have hurt you a lot.”
“It was painful,” Percy admitted. “But I was happy enough staying by your side.”
“The whole fake dating thing was super tone deaf then on my part, huh?” Annabeth said quietly.
“I should have refused, but I couldn’t help myself,” Percy said, grimacing. “I wanted to pretend, even if it was just for a little while, that you actually liked me back. It was a pretty bad idea, but I even tried dropping a bunch of hints since I couldn’t tell you how I felt, in the hopes that it might change something, I don’t know.”
“Well, it wasn’t all bad,” Annabeth said. “It got me to realize a whole bunch of things. Without that whole fiasco, I don’t think we’d be where we are right now.”
Percy cleared his throat and said, “And where is that exactly?”
Annabeth sat up straighter and folded her hands on her lap. “Well, for starters, I’d like to start dating you. For real this time.”
“Are you sure?” Percy asked, furrowing his brow. “We’ll have to be long distance once the fall rolls around.”
“I’m sure,” Annabeth said firmly. “Besides, we’ll be in the same state.”
“Would be nice if we were closer instead of on opposite ends,” Percy said, sighing.
Annabeth shrugged and said, “It’s a five hour and forty-two minute drive, so not all bad.”
“And you know that off the top of your head?” Percy asked, grinning.
“I, um, checked on Google maps.”
Percy gave her a smarmy look and raised an eyebrow. “Hmm, so you came here today planning expecting to ask me out, huh?”
Annabeth shoved him and bit back a smile. “I checked back in December, you jerk.”
Percy made a show of wincing and said, “Alright, alright, take it easy.”
There was a pause before Annabeth folded her arms over her chest and said, “You still haven’t properly answered me, by the way.”
“I thought it went without saying that I would say yes,” Percy said, blinking.
Annabeth’s face turned a little pink. “I- I still want to hear you say it.”
Percy ducked his chin for a moment and looked at her shyly. “Yes, I would love to go out with you.”
Her heart beat a little faster in her chest and exhilaration washed through her. “Nice.”
Percy blinked for a moment and nodded sagaciously. “Yes, nice.”
Annabeth shoved him again and ended up tackling him off his chair and fell on the floor with him. He wrapped an arm around her and laughed, and the sound reverberated through his skin and warmed her right through her bones. They lay like that for a while, tangled in each other, while he played with her hair.
Eventually, she looked up at him and cleared her throat. “So what happens next?”
Percy raised an eyebrow. “Why are you asking me?”
“You’re the one with all the dating experience,” Annabeth protested hotly.
Percy tried for a shrug and said, “Beats me. We could go get some celebratory shakes at Martha’s maybe?”
When Annabeth was quiet, he looked down at her and said, “Did you have something else in mind?”
“Well, um, if you were open to it, I would like to kiss you now,” Annabeth mumbled.
A beat passed before Percy bit back an enormous grin. “Sounds agreeable to me.”
“Don’t make me deck you again,” Annabeth warned.
“Alright, you absolute terror.”
“Dullard.”
“Always so mean, Chase.”
“Shut up, Jackson.”
“Are we gonna kiss or what?”
“You’re supposed to be the one leading, dumbass. I’ve never done this before, remember?”
“Okay well, for starters, don’t bash your nose into mine like that.”
“Oh my god, I actually hate you.”
“What you have a problem with the way I’m ‘leading’?”
“Just shut up and kiss me, you idiot.”
“Alright, no need to get so testy.”
....
“Okay?”
“U-Um, yeah. Could we, uh, do it again? You know, just for practice?”
“Sure. Just for practice.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“Just so you know: it’s too late for take backs.”
“Too late?”
“Yeah, way too late.”
....
“I love you.”
“I know. Now, can we go back to the kissing, please?”
....
“You’re not gonna break my heart, are you, Annabeth Chase?”
“I won’t.”
....
“And I love you too.”
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Bathing
Smut Fic Fest Prompt: Bathing
Part Three of the Father’s Day Project
Word Count: 2134
Warning: Smut
Arm wrapped around Edyt’s waist, Finan waved goodbye to his children and in-laws from the porch as Leofric pulled his car from the drive. Edyt relaxed back against his chest with a sigh the second the car disappeared from sight. Finan chuckled, wrapping his other arm around her and pressing a kiss to her cheek.
“Tired?” he asked, smiling down at her. Edyt hummed in response, turning in his arms to wrap her arms around his neck.
“I love them,” she told him, laying her head on his chest, “but they can be exhausting.”
“Why don’t we go inside and relax?” Finan suggested, guiding her into the house.
“Have you seen the house?” Edyt asked, “Our day isn’t over until it’s clean.”
Finan sighed, knowing she wouldn’t sit until their home was in order. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and went to grab a trash bag from under the sink. Returning to her side, he pulled her into a proper kiss, one to make her mind clear and her toes curl.
“I’ll take the outside, if you want the living room,” he offered, forehead pressed to hers. She nodded, tiptoeing to kiss him once more, before disappearing into the living room. The outside clean up went quicker than he expected and when he made his way back into their home, he found Edyt already vacuuming.
Locking the doors, he made his way up the stairs to their bedroom. He paused a moment at their bedside to look once more at the cards his children had made, before making his way into the en suite. Edyt had insisted, when they’d been house hunting, for a place with a large tub. She would not settle for one that did not cover both her shoulders and her knees.
Finan turned the taps, allowing the water to warm before placing the plug. Opening the second drawer on her side of the sink, he produced a bath bar, filling the tub with bubbles, before drying his hands. Grabbing a handful of candles from the linen closet he placed them around the tub, near enough to shine light but not near enough to catch either of them aflame. As he turned the water off, he heard Edyt entering the bedroom.
“Finan?” her voice floated towards him from the other side of the door.
“Aye, love,” he said making his way to open the door, “I was going to grab us a bottle of wine, but if you want to go ahead and slip in while the water is warm.”
Finan flicked off the bathroom light and moved out of the doorway, so she could see the room that he had set up. Edyt nodded, pulling him down to kiss her.
“Aren’t I supposed to be spoiling you today?” she asked, slipping by him and untying the sash of her wrap around dress. Finan didn’t move, watching as she let the fabric fall from her body. She looked over her shoulder and offered him a coy smile, “I really don’t think we need the wine, Finan.”
“No,” he muttered, making his way over to her. He pressed kisses along her shoulder as he unclasped her bra and pushed the material down her arms. Edyt let the material fall to the floor and tilted her head to allow him more access to her neck. Finan’s fingers danced slowly down her arms, before finding their way up over her stomach. He held her breast softly in each hand, lifting them enough that he could need them softly, tweaking the peaking nipples.
His name fell from her lips as her head fell back against his chest, and he used the new angle to press his lips to hers. She kissed him back lazily, tongue swiping across his bottom. Breaking out of his hands, she turned to him, hands wrapping around his neck, as she pushed up on her toes to kiss him again. Her hands pushed his Father’s Day shirt up until she had to break their kiss to pull it over his head.
Edyt trailed her kisses along the newly exposed skin, fingers popping the button on his jeans. She moved back, slipping her underwear down her thighs as he pushed his pants down. His eyes never left her as he stepped out of them. He moved to her, hands cupping her face as he pulled her into another kiss.
“I love you,” he told her, before stepping into the bath. A groan escaped him at the wonderful feeling and Edyt laughed at him.
“I love you too,” she said, taking the hand he offered and letting him help her into the tub. She gasped at the silky feeling, waiting impatiently for Finan to settle down into the water so she could join him. She sunk into the water, her back against his chest. Her eyes fluttered closed as the warm water rose over her chest, enveloping her whole body. She felt Finan chuckle behind her, running his hands up her arms and over her chest.
“I missed this,” he mumbled, trailing his lips along her neck. Edyt hummed happily, as his hands wandered her form. He let his palm press against her lower stomach, “We used to do this all the time when you were pregnant.”
“Finan,” she warned, not opening her eyes. One hand stayed on her stomach, the other wandering back north to fondle her breast. “No more babies.”
“One more,” he barter, still caressing her skin. “Think about it. Another girl, brilliant and blonde, just like her mother.”
“We already have a girl, who is nothing like her mother,” Edyt muttered, gasping as he tweaked her nipple between her fingers. “Iseult is just like you. Give it a few years and she’ll be married and there will be tons of little feet running around.”
“Edyt, you can’t tell me,” he said, pressing a separate kiss to her neck after each word, “you haven't thought about it.”
“I have,” she admitted, turning her head to capture his lips, “I’ve thought about it alot.”
“Oh?” he mumbled, as she leaned up needing to breathe out of his embrace, his presence clouding her better judgement.
“You’re an amazing father, you know that?” she asked, soaping up a washcloth. She moved away from him and turned to face him. Sitting on heels, she ran the cloth over his shoulders and chest. “I love that about you. And my god, do I love seeing you with the kids, not just ours.”
“Trying to get my hopes up?” he asked her. She shook her head, smiling softly at him.
“No, I’m just saying I have thought about it,” she answered, moving back into his arms, legs straddling his waist and kissing him gently. “We’d be old parents. Say we got pregnant next week, which is unlikely, but let's pretend. You’d be in your fifties before it’s ten. I wouldn’t be far behind.”
“Is that such a bad thing?” he asked. Edyt shrugged.
“I wanted to spend our sixties relaxing, not raising another teenager,” she told him.
“She’ll be twenty by then,” he said, pulling Edyt to kiss him. Edyt laughed and shook her head, but let him kiss her anyway.
“We’d have to go to the doctor,” she muttered against his lips, “make sure we’re even healthy enough to try it.”
“I can make the appointment first thing tomorrow,” he answered, kissing her again while his hands ran down her, gripping her ass firmly.
“It’ll be a lot of work,” she gasped, as his kisses trailed south, pulling her out of the water enough to allow him access to her breasts.
“I love work,” he muttered, between the kisses he peppered along her chest. Edyt brought his lips back to hers, her hands wandering along his shoulders and down his chest.
“I’m not making any promises,” Edyt muttered against his lips, before trailing kisses back along his jaw, “but we can talk about it in the morning. Until then I think we could do with some practice.”
“Oh?” Finan said, grinning at her. “I think you’re right. We need to be ready when you agree.”
Edyt laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck as he pulled her closer, water sloshing around them. Finan captured her lips again, one hand tangling in her hair. Edyt moaned into the kiss as his free hand traveled south, gripping her ass. Edyt shifted, the tub suddenly feeling too small for their current endeavor. She could feel him pressing against her thigh. He moved his hand from her hair to tease at her entrance.
“Finan, we will make a mess,” she told him, pressing her lips to the spot just below his ear. He groaned as she sucked at the flesh.
“Messes can be cleaned,” he countered, slipping two fingers inside of her. Edyt moaned his name, head falling back as he moved his fingers in and out, thumb pressing against the bundle of nerves between her legs. Finan attached her lips to her neck, nipping and sucking along the flesh as he moved back down to her breasts. He flicked his tongue along the nipple, before blowing on his feeling his nails tighten against shoulders.
“You, sir,” she muttered, hands trailing down his chest, “are a bad influence.”
She knocked his hand away so she could grab his cock, stroking it briefly before lining him up at her entrance. Slowly, she sunk down on him. She moaned at the familiar stretching feeling, his hands gripping her ass firmly, helping her bounce on him. Finan kissed her, briefly, before returning his attention to her breast, the sloshing water splashed against his chin. He seemed not to notice, focusing on burying his face in the mounds. Edyt’s knees ached as Finan suddenly stopped her.
“Shower,” he muttered, realizing that the tub might have been a mistake. She nodded, an unintentional sigh of relief leaving her. She climbed out of the tub, turning on the shower as Finan followed. He wrapped himself around her, lips against her neck, cock grinding against her ass, fingers playing with the bundle of nerves between her legs. She melted into him, legs feeling weak as he touched her. She could feel her orgasm building, hips shifting against his hand.
“Fuck,” Edyt panted when he pulled his hand her. Chest heaving, she looked at him in disbelief.
Finan opened the shower door once the water had warmed, guiding her inside. The warm water ran over them, washing from the bubbles and soap from the bath. Turning she wrapped her arms around his neck, tiptoeing in order to kiss him. He kissed her back roughly, hands coming below her ass to lift her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he pressed her against the shower wall. The spray hit his back running down over her legs. Finan wasted no time, lining himself back up at her entrance. Edyt gasped as he entered her swiftly, setting a furious pace immediately, contrasting with the slow easy pace of the tub.
Edyt’s orgasm began its steady build once more as his thrusts pounded him into her. Her nails dug into his shoulders and she attached her lips to the flesh just below his ear, teasing the sensitive spot. Finan gasped, forcing her lips back to his in a passionate kiss. Edyt wiggled a hand between them, barely having to touch herself as she came. Her walls squeeze tight around him, causing his hips to stutter. His name came loudly from her lips with a string of unintelligible mutterings. His own orgasm approached rapidly. Edyt felt his heart racing underneath her palm, as he found his release.
Finan collapsed against her, forehead pressed to the shower wall as he caught his breath. He let her to her feet before kissing her gently. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to his chest. Finan laid his head on top of hers.
“I bet the bath is cold,” he mumbled, causing Edyt to laugh. Pulling away, she pecked his lips.
“I guess that means we’ll have to take a proper one tomorrow,” she said, grinning at him, “and we can start in the shower. Now though, I want to cuddle.”
“I can do that,” Finan grinned, letting her pull him from the shower. He wrapped a towel around her, using it to pull her to him and kiss her once more, before finding his own towel and drying off.
“I love you,” she giggled, as scooped into his arms. He twirled her around, before falling into their bed.
“I love you too,” he answered, pulling the blankets around them. He placed a kiss on her forehead, before rubbing his nose playfully against hers. Finan turned off the bedroom lamp, ready for their long day to end.
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Flames On My Skin
a smutty Rowaelin oneshot
Link to Hot Professors Collection Masterlist
Summary:
Ever since the day she’d met Rowan Whitethorn, Aelin had been promising herself two things: that she would rise above his taunting and be the better person, and that she would stop sleeping with him.
It turned out, she was terrible at holding herself to both of those goals.
Rating: E for Explicit- NOT intended for readers under 18!
Warnings/Contents: Enemies with Benefits, Angry Sex, Semi-Public Sex, College AU where they’re both professors
This was prompted by an anonymous ask, who requested a bunch of dirty talk one-liners in an enemies with benefits scenario. I took advantage of the opportunity to visit a world I’d envisioned but never actually wrote, where Rowan and Aelin are both professors at the same university and get off on the wrong foot. (Heh.)
Enjoy!
~*~*~
Aelin stormed into her office and slammed the door behind her, tossing the folder she carried onto her desk and growling as it exploded on impact, papers flying everywhere. The department meeting had somehow gone even worse than she’d anticipated, and given that she’d prepared as though it was a battle rather than a biweekly check-in that was saying something.
Rather than gather the papers that had scattered across her desk, she allowed herself to instead flop into her chair and lean back as far as it would go. Her hands found their way into her hair and began pulling the hairpins out of her carefully braided and coiled style. Gods, she had spent so long trying to look professional, trying to be the calm and collected professor and researcher she knew she was.
As he did for most things, Rowan Whitethorn had ruined that so effortlessly.
All it had taken him was a handful of subtly pointed remarks and she had absolutely lost it and snapped at him. She didn’t know what it was about him in particular; in her field she’d certainly dealt with difficult personalities before, and it wasn’t like their research interests aligned enough for them to be forced into working together overly often. But ever since her first day in Doranelle University’s psychology department, she and Rowan had been at each other’s throats to the point where Gavriel—Professor Albareda, he wasn’t her uncle while they were working, he was the head of the department—had threatened to sit them down and make them come up with an agreement and sign it.
She could be more mature than that. She would be more mature than that. She…
Fuck. I’m so wet right now, she realized as she crossed her legs and bit her lip.
This had been the other reaction she’d had to his presence for as long as they’d been working together. When she’d first seen him, the combination of broad shoulders and platinum hair with pine-green eyes had immediately piqued her interest, and she’d been about to say something vaguely inappropriate when he’d raised a single eyebrow and asked if her blouse was stained with coffee or intentionally patterned that way.
She’d made sure his shirt was stained too, but even that awful first meeting had done nothing to diminish her interest. It didn’t take a researcher with a specialization in theories of personality to realize that probably said something about herself. Unfortunately for her, she was one, and so she chose not to dwell on it for too long.
Thankfully, while they’d both been kicked out of the meeting she thought she’d seen him head toward his own office two halls away. The others would be in the conference room for another ten minutes at least, and likely closer to twenty. She had a little time. She could take care of things with no one the wiser and escape with the shreds of her dignity intact, so she could lick her wounds and fight another day.
Decision made, she let her hand slide under her own skirt.
She hissed as her fingertips traced along the waist of the panties she’d worn that day and then lower. Gods, she really was wet. This wouldn’t take long at all. Which was a good thing, as this was her office. At work. Fuck, that shouldn’t be turning her on even more.
Suddenly the door opened and she jumped into an upright position, hands smoothing her skirt back down. She hadn’t gotten very far, and it was possible—likely, even—that whoever had come in wouldn’t be able to tell. The flush on her cheeks was easily explained by the fight, and hardly anything else was out of place.
“Well, don’t let me stop you.” Fuck, that was his voice drawling from her doorway.
Aelin glared at the intruder, and sure enough that was Whitethorn leaning against the doorframe. “What are you doing here, Buzzard?” she asked, irritation seeping into her tone.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, all day. Especially while you were yelling at me earlier.” That last bit was said with his trademark smirk, and she hated how it made her want to melt.
“Funny,” she growled, “because I’d done such a good job of almost forgetting the last time we ran into each other.” They had wound up pressed against each other in a supply closet then, and for a dizzying moment she wasn’t sure if she wanted to do it again or forcibly eject him from her office once and for all.
“Is that so?”
She finally snapped. “What do you want, Whitethorn?”
His smirk broadened, a too-familiar light gleaming in his eyes. “I want you to touch yourself for me.”
Aelin sniffed, hoping the gesture hid the shiver she couldn’t quite suppress. “Full of ourselves today, are we?”
“You say that like you think I didn’t see what you were doing. Go on. Right where you left off.”
It was tempting, Aelin couldn’t deny that. It was a terrible idea, but it was so very tempting. Just like it had been last time, and the time before that. Still, she couldn’t resist one last snide remark. “Bold of you to assume that had anything to do with you.”
She slid forward in her chair, though, legs spreading slightly as she said the words. Whitethorn grinned and stepped fully into her office, closing and locking the door behind himself. Good, at least he had the tiniest amount of sense. “I’m assuming nothing. But I know what you were doing, and you know by now that all you have to do is tell me I’m out of line.”
It was an out, and even though she appreciated him offering it, she already knew she wouldn’t take it. As inadvisable as it was to be doing this with a colleague whose relationship with her was antagonistic at best, she just couldn’t bring herself to call it off.
If he was as conflicted as she was, it didn’t show in his face as he watched her fingertips trace up her thigh toward her core. “Gods, you’re so hot.”
The words were whispered, and rough as though they had been torn from his throat without his volition. The harsh yet soft tone in combination with his purring accent made her fingers twitch, and she gasped as they brushed over her clit through the lace of her panties. “I know,” she retorted, though she knew there was a tremble in her voice and she knew he would pick up on it.
“You’re holding back,” was his only reply. “Go on, take them off.”
“Why, so you can steal them?” She grinned as she slipped her fingers beneath the lace instead. “I would’ve thought that kind of thing was beneath you, Mr. High and Mighty.”
He grinned as well, though his eyes were fixed on the movement of her fingers. “I don’t care what you do with them. Stuff them into a drawer if you really feel a need to.” I just need to see. He wanted to say it, she could see it in his face, but something was holding him back.
Deciding to put her colleague out of his misery, she hooked her thumbs in the fabric and wiggled out of it, tossing the scrap of lace at him before settling back down on the corner of her desk and spreading her legs wide for him.
He caught the fabric easily enough, tucking it into a pocket before resuming his nonchalant stance. She knew better, though; she could see from the dilation of his pupils and the tension in his arms and hands that he was far from unaffected, and that was without the evidence that was rapidly making itself prominent below his belt. She grinned, reveling in the strange empowerment of seeing him struggle for composure. “I knew you just wanted to steal them. I better get those back.”
He rolled his eyes. “Shut up and touch yourself, Galathynius.”
She smirked at him, letting her hand rest against her upper thigh instead. “Say my name.”
Whitethorn scowled. “I did say your name.”
“You know what I mean. You want to watch me shove my fingers in this cunt, you can call me by my first name for a change.”
“Fine,” he sighed. “Shut up and touch yourself, Aelin.”
“Much better.” Anything else she could’ve said trailed off into a moan as she finally allowed her fingertips to properly circle her clit, free hand hiking her skirt up enough to grant her freedom of movement and him the view he sought.
She’d already been so worked up before this moment just from their argument, and the look in his eyes as he watched hungrily was only fanning the flames burning within her. But it wasn’t enough, even as she slipped one finger and then another into herself and curled them just the right way. A part of her knew it would never be enough, not like this.
Not when he was right there.
“I need to feel you,” she gasped, not even caring that the words left her even more exposed than her position under his heated gaze.
He lifted an eyebrow in response, even as his hands went to the buckle of his belt. “Do you, now?”
“Shut up and get in me, you arrogant buzzard,” Aelin snapped.
Whitethorn scowled. “You made me say your name, the least you could do is say mine while you’re begging me to fuck you.”
She supposed it was only fair, after what she had made him say just a few short moments ago. It was surprisingly difficult, though, to finally give voice to those few simple words she’d said all too often in her own dreams now. “Fuck me, Rowan.”
The words had an immediate impact on him, and she watched as his eyes closed briefly and his fingers fumbled over his fly. “Just for that, I’m going to fuck you until you beg me to stop.”
“Those are big words for a man who is not currently fucking me.”
The words did their job, goading him into freeing himself from his pants quickly and then just as quickly pressing into her. Her head tipped back at the pleasurable stretch of his cock filling her, laced with just the most delightful edge of pain. Fuck, he was bigger than she’d remembered, but the last thing she wanted to do was give him the satisfaction of saying it.
He could read it from her face, though, she was sure of it. He always had a way of knowing when her own mind was betraying her.
His hips stilled once he was fully seated inside of her, and she opened her mouth to snarl at him before it opened further on a moan she couldn’t hold back as his thumb found her clit. “Pity we don’t have longer.” His voice was deceptively light, but from the way his free hand clutched at her hip he was clearly struggling to hold himself back.
That was highly displeasing, but she could goad him into letting go and moving. She was sure of it. “Why’s that, so you can take twice the time to disappoint me by getting in me and doing nothing? Fucking move.”
“Careful what you wish for,” he taunted, but before she could even think to reply he moved his hand away from her clit to clutch at both of her hips as he pulled out and then slammed back into her.
Aelin gritted her teeth to keep him from getting the satisfaction of eliciting yet another moan from her. A second thrust caught her off guard, though, and she cried out and clutched at his shirt. “More,” she demanded. “Please, more—”
He thankfully cut her off by clapping a hand over her mouth before she could embarrass herself further. “Be quiet,” he hissed. “Or do you want everyone else to hear? The conference room isn’t that far from here, you know. Are you trying to get caught?”
She wasn’t sure if it was the tone of his voice, the thrill of danger, or the continued movement of his cock inside her. Gods help her, though, she trembled and came just like that, biting at his palm to hold back a whimper.
“Fuck,” he whispered before biting his own lip. His rapid thrusts slowed to a steady grind, and his free hand shifted so he could rub his thumb over her clit once more.
The movement made her whine into his hand; she was already so sensitive from having reached her peak once, and it had been earth-shattering enough that she didn’t think she’d be able to again so soon. “I can’t,” she sobbed, the sound muffled by his palm. “Please, I can’t, I—”
“You can. You can, I’m almost there.” Thank the gods, he seemed to realize they didn’t have time for him to draw another orgasm out of her. Instead he kept up the steady motion of his hips and his cock, letting his thumb stop its movements and simply rest over the oversensitive nub of flesh.
She tugged his hand away from her mouth and then surged forward, crushing their lips together in a sloppy kiss before biting his lower lip.
She couldn’t tell what it had been that pushed him over the edge; it could’ve been the kiss, the edge of pain from her teeth, or even simply the change in angle she had provided. Maybe it was a combination of all of those, or something else altogether. Whatever it was, Whitethorn hissed and his hips stilled, and soon she felt the warmth of his release.
They both clung to each other as they struggled to catch their breath, before finally separating. As he tucked himself back into his pants and adjusted his belt, Aelin stood on shaky legs and smoothed her skirt over her thighs. She would need to clean up soon, or the evidence of what they’d just done would be plain for all to see given the material of her outfit. But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being the first to leave.
Besides, she wasn’t altogether certain she could walk just yet.
He seemed to have no such problems, for he strode to her door and unlocked it again as she raked fingers through her golden waves to attempt to tame them. “So,” he drawled. “Same time next week, Galathynius?”
Asshole. She snarled in reply. “Get the fuck out of my office, Whitethorn.”
He smirked, though she automatically catalogued that the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “Whatever you say.”
The door closed once more behind him with a quiet click, and Aelin sighed and reached for the bottom drawer of her desk. She fumbled blindly inside it before pulling out a small package of tissues and—
Gods damn him. She’d forgotten she hadn’t tucked her panties away after all, and he’d just walked out of her office with them still in his pocket.
It seemed she’d have to meet him again after all. Perhaps in his office, in a day or two.
~*~*~
Tagging:
@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou @mymultiversee @swankii-art-teacher @rowansfirebringer @livsdriverslicense @courtofjurdan @danibutterr @woollycat22 @rowaelinismyotp- your tag isn’t working! Sorry!
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Can I Be Him? (Carol Danvers x Fem! Reader) Part two!
Summary: You and Carol have been the best of friends for years and years, to you it’s simply platonic. Whereas for Carol, she tortures herself constantly pining after you. The situation only gets worse when you get engaged to your boyfriend of three years and Carol has to leave for a mission (that could more or less take her six years to get back from).
The day before Carol has to leave, she admits her feelings for you, giving you two choices: to leave him and go with her or stay with him and get married.
Who will you choose and what will be your outcome?
Author’s Note: Second part to Can I be Him? You guys seemed to really like it as much as I did, so thank you all! And enjoy!!
Warnings! ANGST
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hey, Kevin,” Carol greeted bitterly.
“Carol? Oh, I didn’t know you were here,” Kevin comes into sight, a puzzled expression on his face when he sees both of you with tearful eyes.
“I was just leaving,” She replies dryly, moving towards the door and pausing near Kevin. “Congrats on your engagement, I’m sure you’re both very happy.” She stole a passing at you before walking out the door.
“Hold on,” You say to Kevin as you followed Carol out the door, closing it securely once you were in the hallway. Carol had made it down two flights before you shouted her name. “Carol! Carol, wait!” She stops mid-step and looks up at you as you descend the two flights. “Don’t walk away from me, not like this...”
“What’d you expect me to do, stay? Stay and watch you move on with your life?” Carol bit harshly. “I’m sorry, but that’s not happening.”
“I don’t want—“
“You don’t want what? Me to leave?” She prodded. “Well, you know what I wanted? I wanted to be the one you’d tell stories about—to be the reason why your eyes would light up—I wanted to be the person everyone would hate hearing about, because you’d talk about me so much. I wanted it to be me.”
You were silent for a few minutes before you finally opened your mouth to say, “...it is you.”
Carol had a wild urge to throw her arms around your waist and kiss the sorrow from every square inch of your face, but she couldn’t.
On second thought...
Screw it.
She moved in close, moving her hands to your cheeks, cradling your face gently. And you let it happen, anticipating the thing that would now seal your bond forever, you closed your eyes as did she and awaited the warmth from each other’s lips. You nuzzle into each other, the tips of your noses bumping against each other as you both went in close. Behind you, though vaguely, you heard a door open followed by approaching footsteps, before your lips were able to touch you gasped and pulled away, turning to run, but she reached out and grabbed your hand.
“Don’t go...please, don’t go.” She whispered.
“I’m sorry...” You cried, tears filling your eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
With that, you pull yourself out of her grip and run up the stars. You stopped by your apartment door, now too sick to go inside and face Kevin. Your heart sank when you heard her footsteps stride away from her spot, it sank deeper once you finally regained the courage to go back inside. As you opened the door, you heard Kevin on the phone, he sounded excited about something judging by the lilt in his tone. You stood by the doorway fiddling with your ring until you heard him hang up the phone.
“Oh, Y/N! Good, you’re back! I’ve made us reservations at the restaurant on 5th—“ He comes into your vision, taking notice of your eyes and the way that your lip quivered. “What’s wrong?”
“We need to talk...”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I swear that every word you sing, you wrote them for me.
Like it was a private show, but I know you never saw me.
When the lights come on and I'm on my own
Will you be there to sing it again?
Could I be the one you talk about in all your stories?
Can I be the one?
Can I be the one?
Can I be the one?
Oh, can I, can I be him?
Won't you sing it again?
Oh, when you sing it again,
Can I be him?
Oh, sing it again, yeah,
Oh, when you sing it again,
Can I be him?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
3:30 a.m.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You ran as far as your legs could carry you, feeling sorry for any disturbances that you could’ve—did cause. Your talk with Kevin ended on a note that you didn’t expect for a long shot. You told him the truth and gave him the ring back, you’d thought that he’d be offended, proposing to you the day before and the day after receiving the ring back. But Kevin—sweet Kevin—took it with class.
“In a way—I’m sorry too. I made things worse for you and Carol,” He said to you. “I was so determined to be that person for you...even though it was her the whole time.”
“You’re not mad at me?”
“I’m mad at myself. You two belonged together and I ripped you apart, you still belong together.”
“Kevin—“
“No, Y/N, go to her. And tell her I’m sorry.”
Now you were at the Avengers compound running like someone lit a fire under your ass, you had to find Carol, who most likely was asleep in her room. Resting up for the mission. You ascended the stairs with a quickness, the elevators took too long and you weren’t about to wait another second to be apart from Carol. Exhaustion be damned.
You made it to her floor, your legs warm and tense from the workout of the stairs. You knocked on her door with haste, no answer. You knocked again, still no answer. Now you assumed that she was ignoring you, which you felt you deserved after today.
You spoke up, now, “Carol? It’s me...Y/N, I know that you probably don’t wanna talk to me. If I were you I wouldn’t wanna talk to me either. But it’s over now—me and him—I wanted you to know that. I just had to let you know...even if—“ You twisted the doorknob to find that it was unlocked, making your way into the room.
Carol was always a neat person, drilled into her from the Air Force. Her bed was made, the small kitchenette spotless, and the floor looked like it had just been vacuumed. Disbelief spread across your face. No, she couldn’t have left. Not yet.
You walked around the room, scanning for any evidence that Carol was still here. You opened the closet searching for clothes, boots, ripped jeans, her super suit, anything of hers. But the only thing that was there...was an old Aerosmith t-shirt of yours hanging by itself.
Your mouth dropped open, and sadness crossed your features. You take the t-shirt holding it close to you. “No...”
You heard someone knock on the door quietly, you poked your head out to see Sam and Bucky standing there at the door. They’re tired, it showed in their eyes, they probably came over to tell you to shut up and stop making so much noise. But judging by the regrettable glance they shot you, it was nothing like that.
“Hey,” You breathe out, giving a half-smile.
“What are you doing here?” Sam inquired. “It’s three am, you okay?”
“We heard a noise,” Bucky says, his voice deep from his slumber.
“Where’s Carol?” You ask, clutching the t-shirt tighter.
They sigh in unison, looking to you with pity. Bucky was the first to speak up,
“She left, doll.” He says quietly.
“As soon as she got here...” Sam added.
You shake your head. “No...no—no, she said tomorrow morning—so she should still be here. Right? Carol wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye. She wouldn’t.” You were telling yourself more that you were telling them, and the more you said it, the more heart broken you became. “Please...tell me that you’re joking and she’s still here.”
They were quiet. Watching the two of them, it was all you could do, you could hardly contain your own tears, falling to your knees and sobbing hysterically...the realization that this was partly your fault, filled you with immeasurable guilt.
Knowing that now, you wouldn’t be able to see her until next time...whenever that was.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I swear that every word you sang, you wrote 'em for me.
Like it was a private show, but I know you never saw me.
When the lights come on and I'm on my own,
Will you be there, will you be there?
Can I be the one you talk about in all your stories,
Can I be him?
Can I be him?
Can I be him?
Can I be him?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Tag list: @captains-simp @blackluthxr @your-my-mission @wolfyalice-x @natblidaclexa @an-evergreen-rose @xxxtwilightaxelxxx
Read Part One Here!
#brie larson#captain marvel#carol danvers#carol danvers imagine#carol danvers x reader#carol danvers angst#carol danvers imagines#captain marvel imagines#captain marvel imagine
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A Cinnamon Bun too Pure for this World, part 4
The Dough is Rising~ A flashback
CW: Whump, loss of parents implied, abusive family member, multiple stabbing, hand whump, heist and robbery implied, conditioned whumpee, locked in a closet and Nathen destroying all of Cin’s hope and dreams.
Masterlist
*flashback chapter with Nathen*
Cin sat gripping the chair legs with his head down, tears dripped down his face into his lap.
“I’m so sorry for your loss.” A woman said. He didn’t respond, he just watched the pool of tears in his jeans grow larger and larger with every drip.
“It says here you don’t have any surviving immediate relatives. You’re 16, so...” She trailed off. A man quickly approached, whispering to her. She immediately perked up as she clapped her hands in front of her face, making Cin flinch.
“Wonderful news! It seems you have a very distant uncle-in-law! They’ll be informed of the car crash and we’ll let them know about your circumstance.” She said.
‘I have an uncle?’ Cin thought to himself. He never had any other family aside from his parents. A glimmer of hope washed over him.
-
Cin nervously stood by the social worker by the doorway. She was a very nice lady, he practically glued himself to her side like a lost duckling. He almost fell asleep against her hip until he heard a car pull up. He instantly perked up, watching a tall man with messy dark hair, a black leather jacket and ragged jeans climb from his car. The man glanced over at him, eyeing him up and down. Cin’s gut told him there was something wrong, but he shooed the feelings away. This man was nice enough to take him in! He must be sooo kind! Especially since they weren’t *technically* related...
Cin gave him a small smile and a wave when he approached. His eyes darted down to him, as he smiled back! He crouched until he was level with him.
“Hi there, you must be Cin. I’m Nathen” He gave him a warm smile.
-
“What do you mean I’m not going to school?” Cin asked, almost panicked.
“Homeschool Cin. You’re still doing school.” He sighed.
“Then who’s going to teach me?” He cocked his head to the side.
“I am, silly.” Nathen shook his head.
Cin just assumed he knew best. He had moved to another state, he had lost his family, and now his friends. But at least he had Nathen! He just got very lonely sometimes. Nathen started working, disappearing for days, but he would always show up with food and clothes for him. He never talked about his work and when Cin asked he would get defensive, sometimes angry, so Cin just decided to be quiet. He would keep the house clean and cook whatever he brought home.
-
“Nathen!” Cin called excitedly. He twirled around while holding something behind his back. “What.” Nathen mumbled under his breath, eyes glued to a computer screen he always kept tilted away.
“I found something I’m interested in!” He beamed, pulling out a pamphlet behind his back and proudly showing it to him.
“That’s nice.” He mumbled.
“You’re not even looking.” He waved the pamphlet to try and mimic those noodle mascots he saw across the street.
Nathen sighed as he pushed his glasses up, squinting. “College?” He raised an eyebrow. Cin nodded his head enthusiastically. “It’s a really nice college! It’s affordable, and it has a social worker degree!”
Nathen laughed. He laughed and laughed until he was wiping tears from his eyes. “College? Social worker? Why are you thinking about that stuff?”
“Because I’m 18 now! I just thought-” “-You thought what? I could afford college for you? I’m already working hard enough to keep you fed and taken care of.”
“But I-... I can get a job! I can help!” He pleaded. Nathen opened his mouth to shut him down, but paused. His eyes darted from him, to the computer as a smirk spread across his face.
“Alright. You can get a job.” He shrugged.
“Really! Thank you thank you thank you-!” “-But! You’ll be working with me and my group. It’ll be easy, even someone like you could do it.” He smirked. Cin beamed even more with those words. He wouldn’t be lonely anymore! And he got to work with his wonderful guardian! This would be the best job ever!
-
“Cin, this is Charlotte and Jackson.” Nathen introduced.
“Nathen! Why didn’t you tell me he was adorable?!” Charlotte shrieked, pinching Cin’s cheeks with her long sharp black nails. The touch wasn’t comforting in the slightest, but he was enjoying the attention.
“Aren’t you just as cute as a button! Nathen, we could use him as a distraction instead! I know, I’m a fine distraction, but why don’t we let the new kid in?” She smiled, flipping her long dark hair dramatically.
“Cin needs an easy job, he’s terrible at socializing.” He scoffed. Cin blushed, It wasn’t his fault he never left the house. He used to try and get out a lot, but Nathen would give him a slap on the wrist and drag him back home every time.
“Besides, wouldn’t want him to take your spotlight.” He smirked. “What are we doing?” Cin asked. The group grew painfully silent.
“You didn’t even tell him?” James spat.
“He doesn’t need to know, he has the easy job, remember?” They fell silent again. “If the kid talks, I’m ratting you all out.” He shook his head. “He’s not going to rat us out! He’s going to do whatever I tell him.” Nathen cranked his head to face Cin, his eyes burning with a twisted expression. “Right?”
“Right!” Cin squeaked. He had no idea what was going on, but he would be useful! Just watch him. Nathen stuffed a radio and a keycard in his hands and walked him over to a backdoor of an odd looking shop.
“When you hear my voice on the radio, you’re going to swipe the card right there and open the door, mmkay?” He asked.
“Mmkay!.... Wait, is that it?”
“Yep! That’s allll you have to do. You can’t mess it up.” He smiled. The group quickly disappeared as Cin was left standing alone by the door. He held the radio in both hands staring at it waiting for the order.
Five minutes passed.
Ten minutes passed.
Thirty minutes passed.
Cin was still staring intensely at the radio. By the hour, he had slumped against the door, lightly tapping his head against it barely clutching the radio in his fingertips. Where were they? Did they forget about him?
The radio crackled as Cin jumped, losing his grip on the radio as he juggled it in the air a bit.
“OPEN THE DOOR! *Crackle* DO IT NOW!” He heard Nathen bark. Cin stared at the radio with fascination before snapping out of it, swiping the card. He dug his heels in the gravel as he heaved the door open as out bolted Nathen and James carrying two bags over their shoulder.
“Let’s go let’s go! Move it!” He shouted, grabbing Cin’s arm and dragging him along. Cin had no idea what was going on, but he happily ran behind Nathen like they were playing some fun game. James slammed the door open as they tossed the bags in, Nathen grabbed Cin’s arm and pushed him in as they hit the gas.
“Wait! Where’s Charlotte!?” James called, looking back.
“We don’t have time, hit it!”
“We can’t just leave her! What if she got caught!”
“Then she gets caught! That’s on her!”
Cin stayed silent as he sat on the floor of the van. “Did… Did I do good?” He asked with desperation in his voice. All he wanted was a hint of approval from someone. Nathen looked back as his hand ruffled his hair. “Yeah, you did good.” He smiled. Cin beamed with pure joy. He had no idea what happened, or what he even did, but it made Nathen happy, so Cin was too.
Time went on and Nathen asked him to do similar things. Open this door, press this button, call us on the radio if you see anyone, small innocent things. Each time they would return with something, bags, a box or expensive looking things. Cin never questioned anything, because it was Nathen; the person he relied on.
They person he was nothing without.
-Years passed. Cin was 21 now.
“You said if I helped out you would let me go to college! Please, I really want to go!” He begged. Nathen was twisted with rage, he had no energy nor patience to put up with him today.
“I’m so sick and tired of you filling my ears with college trash! You’re helping us, Cin. We can’t do the big jobs without you! After all I’ve done for you, this is the least you can do to pay me back!” He hissed. Cin groaned with frustration as he bolted from the room, slamming the door behind him as he ran down the street. Nathen didn’t even try to stop him, he knew he would be back. Where would he even go? He had nothing without him.
It started raining, Cin held his arms as he walked cringing down the sidewalk as the cold rain showered. He stopped when he saw a bus stop with a man in ragged clothes huddled under the overhang. They both looked at each other, both looking rather lost. The man had messy hair and a long grey beard, dressed in torn clothes with a bag at his feet filled with random things.
“Are you okay?” Cin asked, sniffling.
“Pff, I should be asking you that.” The man said. Cin realized half the liquid on his face was tears as he quickly wiped his face.
The man slid to the side of the bench, making room for him as Cin nervously sat next to him.
“What’s bothering you?” The man asked.
“I… Nathen told me I’m not allowed to talk to strangers…” Cin muttered.
“Not allowed? You look like an adult to me. Although I will say, this is some solid advice from this Nathen boy.” The man chuckled. “I’m David, there, I’m not a stranger anymore.” He smiled. “Cin.” He smiled back.
“I just… I really wanted to go to college. My guardian won’t let me go, even thought I worked for it! I don’t understand why.” He murmured. The man’s eyes fell sad as he sighed.
“I’m sorry to hear that young man. But if you worked your fair share, you have every right to get a little demanding.” He chuckled. “Hmm? Demanding?’” Cin asked. “Yeah! Put your foot down! Tell him, ‘I worked hard, and I deserve it!”
Cin gasped as he held his hands over his mouth. “I’m allowed to say that!?” He gasped. “Of course you can! You’re an adult! You get to make decisions for yourself.” He smiled. Cin’s eyes darted to the ground as if he had just made a realization. “I can… Make decisions? For myself?”
“That’s right!” He smiled.
“I never realized I could do that!” He gasped, his mind running wild. “What about you? Why are you sad?” He asked.
“Bah, don’t worry about an old man like me.” He waved.
“No! That’s not fair! It’s your turn now!” He demanded. “Alright! Alright.” He chuckled, raising his hands in defeat. “You’re getting good at this demanding thing, I’ll give you that.” He smiled. “I lost my home last year. There was a job offer today and I cleaned myself up as best as I could and shot my shot! Well, I didn’t get the job and I guess I’m a little down about it.” He sighed, slumping down on the bench.
“You’re homeless? Then how do you live? Where do you eat?” He asked. He couldn’t quite fathom his lifestyle.
“I don’t some nights.” He sighed. Cin’s face went pale. “Did you get something today?” He asked. “.. Yes.” He coughed.
“Hmmm? Are you suuure?” Cin eyed. The man laughed as he crossed his arms with guilt. “Wait here!” Cin ordered. The man froze awkwardly as he watched Cin bolting off into a nearby store. He returned a couple minutes later with a bag in hand, filled with a stash of fresh food. Nathen had given him a couple of pocket change just to satisfy him for a little bit, but he never got a chance to spend it.
“No, sweetie, you need to save that for your education.”
“No! I insist. Hearing your story made me appreciate what I have more! I’ll be fine regardless if I give this to you or not. But it’ll mean a lot to you, won’t it?” He smiled.
The man stared at him for a moment before smiling, accepting the gift. “You’re a very kind young man. Don’t ever let anyone take that away from you.”
Cin giggled before starting to run off. “Thank you for the advice! I think I’m going to take it!” He waved behind his shoulder as he sprinted home with a wave of confidence.
He burst through the door, dripping wet as he announced “I worked hard, and I deserve it!” He shouted.
“Huh?” Nathen asked, closing the laptop.
“I-... I worked hard…” He trailed off. “And I deserve it, right? The college…” His confidence was slowly killed as Nathen rose to his height. “Where did you get those words from? Inspirational quotes from a car bumper?’” He scoffed. “N-no. A nice man.” He muttered.
“A nice what?” His eyes grew wide. “Cin! I told you you’re not allowed to talk to anyone!” He shouted. “But he was nice! And he was also right. I can’t stay here forever Nathen! I appreciate everything you did for me, but It’s time I… I made a decision for myself, and this is it.” He muttered.
“Oh, so the pup grew some fangs, hmm? That’s something I never expected.” He taunted. He draped himself into a chair, crossing his arms and legs. “I’ll tell you what, Cin. You help us with one more job, and you can go.” He said.
Cin’s eyes lit up like stars as he jumped up and down “Thank you thank you thank you!” He cheered. Nathen just sat thinking to himself with a twisted smile creeping across his face.
-
“You wanna what now?” Charlotte gasped. “Listen here, I got arrested last time because I was the distraction. We had to lose some of that money we stole to bail me out! You’re so lucky I didn’t rat you all out.” She crossed her arms.
“Yeah yeah, you won’t be the distraction this time. Cin is.” Nathen smirked.
“What? Nathen, he’ll get caught for sure.. “-No no! He’ll be fine. I got a plan.”
Cin looked nervous, twisting his fingers as Nathen stood him next to a tree outside an expensive looking shop. “Nathen? I don’t understand, what are we even doing?” Cin murmured. “Oh come now, don’t be shy! You’re just a distraction, so be you’re cute little helpless self, mmkay?” He smiled.
“Wha-...”
Nathen pulled out a pocket knife, placing the back of Cin’s hand to the tree as he jabbed the knife all the way through, pinning him to the tree. James' eyes went wide, Charlotte gasped, Nathen smiled, as Cin screamed…
Blood fell down his arm dripping off his elbow as he was stuck frozen in shock. His breathing spiked as he couldn’t stop screaming. The pressure and sharp pain imbedded into his hand pulsing with every twitch and quiver.
He blinked his eyes open to see he was alone, the sound of pounding footsteps approaching as a man dressed in uniform ran up to him.
“Hey! Are you-” His voice cut off at the sight of the knife pinning the man to the tree. Cin was hyperventilating as he tried to control his shaking. The man called an ambulance and soon, there was a small crowd of people who worked in the store trying to help keep him calm.
“How did this happen?” Someone asked.
Cin tried to answer, but he couldn’t find the words. His mind was bewildered into terror and confusion. In the end, he never spoke a word. An ambulance came as they carefully removed the knife, giving him a towel to put pressure on the wound. Nathen miraculously appeared with a terrified expression.
“CIN! I’ve been looking everywhere for you! What happened?” Nathen gasped, grabbing his shoulders. Before he could try to choke out a word, Nathen was already speaking over him talking to the paramedics.
“Thank you so much for helping him! He’s my little baby nephew, he ran off on me and I’ve been looking everywhere worried sick!” He cried. Cin fell silent with wide blank eyes. Nathen assured he didn’t need the ambulance, he was going to drive him to the hospital himself, because he must be so scared. A doctor said to contact the police as soon as he arrived at the hospital, as Nathen assured them he would.
Instead, he drove him home. Countless bags were filling the bag seat of the car that weren't there before. Cin was then dragged home by his arm and thrown onto the floor sobbing.
‘W-why!! Why did y-you do that?” He sobbed, clutching his bleeding hand.
“Because, it was for your own good. Cin, just look at you.” He said, crouching down as he tried to crawl away. “But y-you did s-so much to me!” He shouted.
Nathen took his chin as he forced him to look up, thumbing away a tear. “For you. I did so much for you, Cin. Why can’t you see that? You were sick, sick with all these fantasies about leaving. You really think you can make it out there? All by yourself? Without me? I’m the only one who ever loved you, who took care of you. You owe me everything.” He hissed, taking his hand. “And now?” He muttered, pulling out a knife. In a second, he was on top of him pinning his hand to the floor. Nathen used one knee to pin his chest, another pinning his right hand, with his free hand holding his wrists to the floor over his head.
“And now, I can do…” He muttered, plunging the knife into his palm next to the first cut.
“Whatever”
Stab
“I like to you.”
Stab
He drove the knife into his left palm over and over again. Cin cried and begged the entire time with barely any air left in his lungs, squirming to try and elude his attacks. Blood fell into the cracks of the floorboards beneath them, eventually, Cin was lying motionlessly on the floor. Four, inch long marks were through his hand as he was dragged over to the closet and thrown in.
“There’s nothing you can do to pay me back, Cin. So you can stay right here where you belong and bleed until you become a grateful little brat.” He spat, slamming the closet door.
Cin collapsed his back against the wall clutching his hand. He was left to twitch and whimper the entire night until he learned to be grateful to who he was indebted to… Until he learned his place.
He was… The only one…. Who cared about him… After all.
“Cin?” Richard asked, sliding the closet door open. Cin was on the floor nicely tucked into the corner with his hair pressed against the wall.
“Are you okay?” He asked. Cin’s left hand was twitching with phantom pain as he silently nodded his head. “Why are you in here?” He asked.
Cin’s eyes darted around a little bit. “It’s comfortable here...” He quietly murmured.
“It’s comfortable out here too though. Don’t you want to rest on the bed?” He asked. Cin glanced up at him with a skeptical look, tilting his head to the side. “I’m... I’m fine here...” Richard stared down with a concerned expression. Cin looked at him like he was expecting praise for stuffing himself in the closet.
Richard crawled into the closet and sat next to him, brushing a strand of hair from his eyes so he could make eye contact. “Were you thinking about him?” Richard asked. Cin guiltily nodded, pressing his nose into the corner in an attempt to hide. “No no, it’s alright. He can’t hurt you anymore, okay?” Richard soothed. He didn’t understand where Cin went mentally when he was like this, stuck in his conditioned responses when he got scared or confused.
Which unfortunately, was all the time.
His left hand would twitch when he would respond with his conditioning. Hiding in the closet was apparently a response when he was scared. Richard was slowly picking up on things that were triggers as he would try to avoid them, but they were difficult to root out.
“Why don’t we get comfortable on the couch and watch a movie with popcorn?” Richard asked. He peeked an eye out at the mention of popcorn. After much reassurance and comfort, Cin eventually found himself on the couch with a big bowl of popcorn in his lap with a small smile.
@milk-carton-whump @whumpasaurus101 @sillypizzazineoperator @as-a-matter-of-whump @alien-octopus @unicornscotty @yesthisiswhump
ʕっ• ᴥ • ʔっ Thank you for reading!
#whump#whumpee#whumper#caretaker#conditioned whumpee#stabbing tw#stabbing whump#whump stories#whump writing#manipulative whumper#possessive whumper#whump flashback#controlling whumper
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dopamine and epinephrine, just don’t mix
Summary: Kuroo thinks back on his relationship with Y/N. How will those memories hold up to reality?
Pairing: Kuroo x fem!reader, Bokuto x fem!reader (platonic)
Word Count: 5351
Warnings: Angst. Toxic behaviors. Cheating allegations. Adult language.
A/N: A special thank you to @twilightwrites for this prompt.
Side note: I know the drinking age in Japan is 20, I realized as I was writing the last paragraph of this that I messed up, so we are just gonna let it slide because my head hurts lol
September – 2013
“Kuroo-san, do you understand what I’ve just explained?” He just nods, the meaning of the words is known, it’s just the weight of them that just hasn’t hit him yet. It not until he���s walking across campus, his feet dragging against the sidewalk, that the weight of his advisor’s words land on his shoulders.
You failed to maintain proper grades to continue not just in this department, but in this university. Your enrollment has been terminated.
Kuroo shakes his head, how exactly would he explain this to his grandmother? She was so proud of him for getting into university in the first place. He really was great at disappointing those he cared for lately.
* * The sidewalks are busier than he’s used to, he was always in class at this time and he ends up brushing against a few people as he maneuvers his way to the nearest convenience store. The dinging of the welcome bell draws him from the jumble of thoughts he was having. The cool air from the refrigerated unit, grabbing several cans of lemon flavored chūhai. It was cheap, didn’t taste all that great, but he didn’t care.
There are three empty cans piled next to his foot, his hand tightens around the fourth one, it caves under his fingertips. The blend of alcohol on an empty stomach has Kuroo on the verge of tipsiness.
He hears a soft laugh and feels himself stiffen when he sees (h/c) hair as his mind blanks. It’s been almost a year since he’s seen her, a flash of the malice words exchanged and the sound the door made as it was slammed crosses his mind.
Suddenly he’s self-conscious of how he looks, quickly running his fingers through his unruly hair (not that that would help) and scrabbles to pick the cans up and cram them into his bag. He doesn’t fully hear the name, but enough to know it wasn’t her, making him feel a bit ridiculous.
Dopamine: hormone and neurotransmitter that's an important part of your brain's reward system; associated with happiness and pleasure.
June – 2010
“Can you tell me where Ko-chan is?”
Kuroo turned to see an unfamiliar face staring back up at him. She tucked a stray piece of her (h/c) hair behind her ear, nervously biting her bottom lip, and Kuroo instantly thought she was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. So much, that instead of answering her, he just stood there, staring.
“Bokuto-san is this way, L/N-san.” Akaashi said as he walked up behind her.
She smiled at Kuroo, apologizing for bothering him before following Akaashi over to where the rowdy ace of Fukurōdani was. Once Bokuto’s eyes fell onto the girl, he ran towards her, wrapping her into a tight hug, thanking her repeatedly for bringing his extra gym bag all the way to the training camp.
Kuroo waited until Bokuto was alone before he made his way over, trying to figure out how to work in his question. “Bokuto, who is that?” Bo looked over to Akaashi who was talking to this mystery girl before looking back at Kuroo with a sloppy grin on his face. “Why? Interested?”
Kuroo felt his head getting fuzzy, like when he held it over the edge of his bed for too long, “I was…uhm…just wondering.”
“That’s Y/N. We grew up together, but in fifth grade she moved away, just recently moved back.”
That explained why Kuroo didn’t know her even though her and Bo came off extremely close.
“She’s single.”
Kuroo felt his face start to burn, embarrassment covering it as he tried to speak, but all that came out were broken parts of a sentence. “Oh, well…I don’t…bother…just…yeah.”
** Y/N was standing in the doorway of the gym, watching as Bokuto hit down each practice set Akaashi sent his way, he truly had gotten even more powerful since they were children. She rubbed her hands against her arms, trying to warm up, she tensed when she felt a slight bit of weight on her shoulders.
She turned around to see a messy raven-haired boy standing behind her, his oversized red jacket draped over her shoulders. “Rooster boy!”
“Huh?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow, unsure of how to really respond.
“Ko-chan told me to call you that.” She smiled up innocently at Kuroo and he felt himself get weak in the knees.
He mumbled something to the effect of ‘horned owl bastard’ underneath his breath which seemed to make her laugh just a little bit. He ran his fingers through his hair, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious about the state of his hair.
She turned back around, eyes wide in awe as Bokuto slammed another ball onto the other side of the court, Kuroo couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like if she looked at him like that, but blocking wasn’t as flashy as spikes were and he didn’t want to get ahead of himself. He turned around on his heel, getting ready to head back to where the rest of his team is.
“Are you trying to play hard to get?” “Huh?” He looked back at her, she had spun around, a devilish smirk on her smirk.
“You gave me your jacket even though you only have a t-shirt on, but you don’t tell me your name or ask if I want go somewhere to talk.”
“Oh, I thought you wanted to watch Bo play, I…uh…didn’t want to bother you.”
She slipped her arms into his jacket, zipping it up, “nah, I can see Bo play at school.”
“Did you want to go talk somewhere?” “I don’t go places with strangers.” She tilted her head, giving him a knowing look.
He shook his head, “I’m Kuroo Tetsurō, nice to meet you…?” “L/N F/N. Likewise Tetsu-chan!” She grabbed his hand, “c’mon, let’s go!”
He felt the blood rush to his cheeks as his feet moved on their own, following this mystery girl and he already knew that he was gonna have his hands full, not that he really cared.
* * December – 2010
“Y/N?”
The two of them were in Kuroo’s room, something they did often on the weekends, sometimes working on school work, other times just enjoying each other’s company. She’s flipping through a magazine, her chin rested on her palms as she looked over her shoulder at the middle blocker, a smile on her face. Kuroo was leaning against his headboard and couldn’t help but forget what he was about to say.
“Tetsu-chan?”
“Are you a carbon sample?” He smirked when she gave him a puzzled look, “because I want to date you.” Her face lit up as she pushed herself up, sitting up while crossing her legs as she faced Kuroo. “Oh! Oh! Oh! I have one too!” She clapped her hands in excitement, “you look sweeter than 3.14!”
He laughed before he shook his head, “no, Y/N, I’m asking you out.”
“You’re asking me out using a science pun?” His face went completely red, cheek burned as he rubbed the back of his head. “…yeah.”
“You’re such a dork!” She started laughing, falling over to the side as her giggles filled the now empty room. When she finally composed her, wiping the tears that had fallen down her cheeks, she smiled up at him, “but I guess that means you’re my dork.” “That a yes?” Kuroo held his breath, worried that she was about to reject him because looking back on it, it was kinda lame, even for him.
She crawled up to Kuroo side, leaning into it as he wrapped his arm around her waist, “it’s a proton positive?”
* * September – 2013
Kuroo staggers up the stairs, thankful that he only lives on the second floor of his apartment building. He drops his bag near the door while he kicks off his shoes as he makes his way to the closet in his room.
The apartment is pretty bare for someone to be living there. The furniture that’s there is just what’s needed, the bare minimum through the apartment. A bed and night stand in the bedroom, couch and TV in the living room area and the only reason he had a TV stand was because Kenma almost had a heart attack when he saw Kuroo had it sitting on the floor.
Y/N was supposed to decorate it, that had been their deal when the subject of moving in together came up. The plan was to get an apartment between the universities they had planned to attend and she could decorate it however she wanted, all Kuroo cared about was getting to come home to her. But it was obvious that day never happened, they didn’t even make it searching for apartments together before things fell apart and Kuroo picked an apartment closest to his school.
He’s rummaging through the bedroom closet before pulling out an old tin box, the kind that trading cards come in. Wiping off the thin layer of dust that has accumulated on the top, he slowly opens it, a flood of emotions washes over him.
* * March – 2011
“Y/N seems really happy.” Bo said, the three of them had all met up to see a movie that recently released.
Kuroo was happy that his girlfriend and best friend were also close, it made things a lot easier and he didn’t have to worry about them getting along, even if they had technically known each other longer. “I hope she is, I’d do anything for her.”
“What are you two whispering about?” She snuck up behind them, popcorn in hand, placing her chin on Kuroo’s shoulder.
“Guy stuff.”
“Laaame!” She shook her head, walking towards the theatre where their movie was playing, “we’re gonna miss the trailers!”
** “Where to next?” She looked between the boys, eager to keep their night going.
“I should probably head back, I don’t want to worry my grandparents.” Kuroo glanced at the time on his phone, he knew the movie might run late but he didn’t think they’d be out this late. He felt bad as he watched her face drop, clearly not the answer she was expecting.
“Yeah, it is getting a bit late.” Bokuto agreed with a slight shrug.
Y/N dragged her feet along the sidewalk, her shoulder dropped which caused both boys to share a look.
“Is this about what we talked about earlier?” Bokuto asked, pulling her into a side hug.
Kuroo looked between them, curiosity filling him as he tries to think if she told him anything that was bothering her, but he can’t. “What did you two talk about?” She shook her head, “it’s nothing.” She looked up at him, giving him a small straight smile.
Part of him wanted to ask her again, to get her to open up and talk to him about it because it was bothering her then it bothers him, but he didn’t. He tried to find comfort in the fact that at least she could tell Bo about it, at least she had someone, but it still hurt that that someone wasn’t him.
* * May – 2011
It had bothered Kuroo for weeks now that it seemed Y/N was confiding more and more into Bokuto that she was him. He was her boyfriend, he was the one she should be going to, right? Then why was she continuously going to their friend?
His irritation started to splinter into other aspects of his life, tests that he should’ve passed he didn’t, blocks he should’ve made he missed, but the boiling point came when Fukurōdani played Nekoma and she came decked out in Fukurōdani colors, cheerfully talking to Bo and his team. He knew it shouldn’t bug him like it was, she attended that school, but what still pissed him off were the comments he heard as they walked by the team.
Comments from other team members and what seemed like potential classmates of theirs repeatedly saying different variations of how cute her and Bo looked together, what a great couple they’d make and the way that she would hang onto Bo’s side.
The game was long, Kuroo spend half the game lost in his anger and the other half moving on auto-pilot as his body seemed to move on its own. Somehow Nekoma ended up winning, but that didn’t change the way he felt as he practically stormed off the court towards the locker room. He understood how important Bo was to her, that they were best friends and had been for longer than he knew either of them, but that didn’t alleviate the anger that radiated off of his shoulders nor did it stop him from slamming the doors he walked through.
“Tetsu-chan!”
He didn’t stop, just continued to walk down the hallway and toward the main entrance, acting as though he’s the only one there.
“Tetsu-chan!” She reached out, pulling his duffle bag’s strap back towards her.
He refused to turn around, having a feeling that he’d lash out and he didn’t want to do that. He needed space, time to cool down, he didn’t want to give her the ultimatum of him or Bo and he had a feeling if he opened his mouth, that’s what he’d say.
She looked at his back, unsure of why he was so upset, his team had just won, shouldn’t he be more excited? “For someone who just won, you’re acting like emo Bo.”
Kuroo’s eye twitched, just hearing her compare him to Bo so effortlessly was painful and caused his thoughts to spiral. Did she want to be with him? Would she rather be with Bo? He clenched his fist, hating the way he felt and hating himself more for feeling that way. He hated the ugly jealousy that wrapped around his chest, weaving around his lung, making it harder to breathe as it tightened. He yanked his bag strap away from her, leaving her standing there as he stormed out.
** A few weeks went by and communication between Kuroo and Y/N was awkward and basic, simple “hello’s” and “yeah, you?” filled most of their exchanges. It all came down to Bo inviting both of them over to his place and essentially locking them in his room, forcing them to talk to each other.
“Tetsu-chan.” She bit down on her lip, tears filled her eyes, the reality of how distant they had grown weighed down the atmosphere, “are we breaking up?” “What?” His head snapped up, finally looking her. He didn’t want to break-up, he wasn’t even mad anymore, he just didn’t know how to get back to where they were. It felt weird to just try to just back in as if nothing had ever happened.
She wrapped her arms tightly around herself as if creating a wall between them, an attempt to brace herself from the pain that seemed to be coming. She tried her hardest to keep her lip from quivering. “’Cause this is a very shitty way of doing that. You could’ve just called.”
He wasn’t sure what was going on, she didn’t look like she wanted to break up, but she sounded like she was ready for one. What sense did that make? The room almost felt hostile, “so I look like the guy that’d break up over the phone, is that what you think of me?” “Did I say that? No. But it’d be better than dumping me in Bo’s room!”
“I didn’t say I wanted to break up!”
“Then why have you been avoiding me?”
“You hurt my feelings!” Kuroo voice raised a bit louder than it had been, both of them pausing in their spot. The tension immediately disappeared and she slowly walked up to him, an adorable pout on her face.
She threw her arms around him, sobbing into his chest, “I’m so sorry!” “It’s fine, it’s stupid anyways.” He rubbed circles on her back, pulling her in closer to him.
She protested, claiming anything that bothered him couldn’t be stupid and demanded that he tell her and he did. That he knew it was rather silly to be jealous of her supporting her school, but it made him wonder if she was embarrassed to say she was with him. That he knew it was important for her to have friends and he was glad Bo was one, but she wanted her to see him as someone she could go to in the same she could to Bo because as lame as it sounded, he didn’t like feeling like the odd man out.
She reassured him that it was nothing like that and told him that she saw where he was coming from. She told him that if the roles had been reversed, she would’ve definitely felt the same way that he had and that they both needed to work on their communication skills because they both agreed neither of them wanted what they had to end.
They walked out of the room together, holding hands and Bo looked excited to see they worked things out, wrapping them both in a huge hug. Kuroo thought he felt confident in what she said to him, but then he saw how she seemed to just naturally gravitate towards Bo even when he was there and that sinking feeling he had weeks ago at their game came back, this time plowing into him like a wrecking ball.
* * September – 2013
Kuroo accidentally kicks the box as he staggers to stand up, the memories proving to be a bit too much for him. But something in him made him want to see the task through, to see everything that he was holding on to, but to do that he needed alcohol.
His phone starts to vibrate in his pocket, he takes it out immediately pressing the button on the side to silence it then presses it again to send it to voice mail. Kuroo knows who it is, it’s the only person who would be calling him: Kenma.
He opens the fridge, pulling out what few cans of beer he has before shuffling back to his room, flopping down in the stop that’s still warm from him sitting there just moments ago. He puts his phone on floor near him, glancing at the screen as it lights up from a text notification.
Kenma: Missed Call (4) Text Message (15)
Technically he had no reason to avoid his best friend, but he didn’t feel like he deserved Kenma’s kindness because all he had done lately was mess things up. He didn’t want Kenma to tell him everyone messes up and he can fix things since he knew that it was too late to do any of that now.
He pulls out a small pile of printed photographs, some printed out on the mini polaroid paper from the camera she wanted for her birthday. She was his first serious relationship, between school and volleyball he never really gave dating much thought, but it was different with her. She kept him on his toes, made him want to be better, he really could see a future with her, but he screwed it up and now all he had were these pictures.
Pictures that ranged from dates to study sessions, from volleyball games to random adventures through Tokyo. Looking at them made him wonder if she kept the matching ones? Did she have a box too?
A bit of beer splatters when he cracks open the tab and he frantically wiped the picture across his thigh, drying it but smearing the liquid across the photo. He wanted to believe that he tried hard enough to make things work, that he gave it his all, but when he thought back to that night, her words told him differently.
Epinephrine: surges at panic/emergency; provokes stress response— brings out arousal of extreme emotions like fear and anger.
January— 2012
“It’s really not that big of a deal!” She said for the fourth time within the last five minutes, but Kuroo wasn’t listening.
“It is!” He shook his head, pacing her bedroom, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to control what he said if he sat down, he needed to walk this anger out of him.
“He was the first person I saw, Tetsu.” She really didn’t mean anything by telling Bokuto she had been accepted into her top two choices for college, he literally happened to be the first person she saw after getting the news. They’d been dating for two years and he still got jealous when it came to Bo and she wasn’t sure why.
“You just don’t get it.” He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to even out his breathing, he really didn’t want to fight with her.
“You’re right, I don’t. I don’t get why my boyfriend gets so upset when I tell my best friend things.”
“Because you told him first! I should know first!”
She snorted, “this is stupid. I mean honestly you sound like a child.”
“A child, nice.” He grabbed his jacket from her desk chair, shoving passed her as he walked down the hall before slipping on his shoes and going right out the front door.
She followed him, yelling at him to stop, yanking on his arm when she finally catches up. “I’m sorry.”
He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there as she repeatedly apologized, tightly wrapping her arms around his torso.
“I don’t know why I get so jealous.” He sounded defeated and he was, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t place why he felt so threatened by Bo. Maybe it was because he knew her longer, knew parts of her that he didn’t or maybe it’s because deep down he just didn’t feel like he deserved her.
“I know.” She buried her face into his chest, still hugging him. She believed that he didn’t know why he felt that way, but she was still tired of dealing with it, regardless of how much she loved him.
* * April – 2012
It was the weird time between graduation and university getting ready to start, Y/N was over at Kuroo’s, his room now filled with boxes. Things didn’t bounce back to normal the way it did before when she thought they were breaking up, after their latest fight things were kinda awkward. They still hung out, but it was mostly just them sitting in the same room both engaged in something alone.
Kuroo looked over when he heard her giggle, raising an eyebrow before humming.
“Yukie sent the group chat some pictures from graduation.” She handed her phone to him, scooting a bit closer so they could look together.
Most of them were harmless, to be fair they were all harmless, but Kuroo started to question them as they went through them. There were ones of Y/N with Yukie and Kaori and some with various team members. Then they got to ones with Bo and both of them stiffened, neither had mentioned him unless they had to since their last fight. There were ones with Bo hanging on an unamused looking Akaashi, but the one that Kuroo hated was one of Bo next to Y/N, his hand “too low” on her hip for his liking.
He pushed himself off his bed, trying to calm down, but he knew this time he wouldn’t be able to.
“Tetsu, it was just a picture.”
He made an annoyed sound, something between a scoff and a laugh, as he shook his head. “He didn’t have to put his hand on your hip like that.”
She rolled her eyes, “it’s just a stupid pose. Everyone does it!” She flipped through the pictures, zooming in on Yukie’s arm that was wrapped around her waist, “see! Look! Her arm is around me, that make you mad too?” “It’d be different if you weren’t practically begging Bo to fuck you!”
The words hung heavy between them, for Kuroo it was a weight of his shoulders to get the words out but for Y/N, it knocked the wind out of her lungs. They were supposed to look at apartments today, find one to live in together while going to college, but a fight like this wasn’t in the plans. At least not for her, she was hoping that they could mend things and start over since they’d be moving away from Bo.
“W-w-what?” Her face was scrunched up in disbelief, the words still not being fully processed.
“I mean the way you flaunt yourself in front of him in that skirt!”
“Skirt?” Her face went deadpan, “you mean my fucking school uniform?”
28 months, they’d been together for over two years and she couldn’t he said that to her, couldn’t believe that he felt that way. Tears started to fill her eyes, for months she walked on pins and needles, carefully edited her words around him and now she had to hear the person she loved the most say the worse kind of words to her.
“You know what I mean! Don’t twist my words!”
“I’m not and I can’t believe you!” She wiped the tears from her face aggressively, “I have done nothing to cause you to feel this way!”
“I’m just making it up? It’s just in my head?” “YES! Bo is our best friend. Friends, that’s all we have ever been!” She started to look around the room, trying to find the sweatshirt she brought with her, she couldn’t have this fight again.
“Friends don’t act like you two do.”
“Boyfriends don’t act like you do!” She took three steps towards Kuroo to grab her sweatshirt before she turned and walked towards his door. She hesitated, thinking Kuroo would call out to her, but he doesn’t, instead he just let her leave.
* * July – 2012
They didn’t get a shared apartment like they had planned to. Kuroo stayed in Tokyo while YN moved to Kyoto, choosing a completely different university than she originally intended. For most of their first semester in university they barely spoke at all, neither really making it a point to reach out. Ironically, if it wasn’t Bokuto they wouldn’t have known how the other was doing, how the other was dealing with the upgrade from high school to college.
Then Bokuto mentioned a Fukurōdani vs Nekoma game, invited both of them and both eagerly accepted. Which lead to a very awkward game, each sitting on the opposite side of Bokuto, who was far too busy cheering on his old team to notice. Bokuto ran off after the game, Akaashi had called, leaving the two to awkwardly walk home.
They get close to her house, both lingering on the sidewalk, kicking imaginary rocks to act as if they had something keeping them outside.
“Y/N, I’m –“
“I think we should break up.”
“Y/N, I –”
“No. I don’t want to hear any excuses anymore. I tried so hard to make this work, but what you said to me hurt Kuroo, it really hurt.”
Kuroo. When was the last time she called him that?
“I never did anything to make you think those things, I wouldn’t do that. I really did love you, but I can’t keep doing this. It’s not healthy.”
* * September – 2013
It had been over a year and he stilled kicked himself for not saying anything to her that night, for letting her walk away without even trying to hold onto their relationship. But that night he discovered that everything he thought about them was a lie. He thought that he had been trying to keep them together, that he had been trying his hardest to be a good boyfriend, but he was the one who tore them apart. He was the one who got it in his head that she was acting a way that he knew she wasn’t, he knew that Bo was just her friend and what made it even worse was after their break-up, Bo and Akaashi announced their relationship.
Not only did he lose his girlfriend, the only girl he’d ever loved, but she eventually told Akaashi what happened and when Bo found out, he was livid. Even Akaashi hadn’t seem Bo as mad as he was when he called and told off Kuroo for ever thinking that about him and Y/N. Maybe all of this was what he deserved, he had been truly awful as a boyfriend and a friend, but even with that awareness, he still missed her. Still wanted her back, wanted to truly be able to fix things with her because he knew he could be better given one more chance.
* * October – 2013
Being back at home isn’t as bad as Kuroo built it up in his head to be. His grandparents weren’t thrilled that he wasn’t going to finish up this semester, but he promised them after some time, after he could clear his head, he would go back.
He picked up a part-time job at a convenient shop, just needing something to force him out of his thoughts because somehow being back at home was even worse than being alone in his apartment. Even though he knew she was hours away, it didn’t stop him from almost breaking his neck to see if every girl passing with (h/c) was her. He hadn’t seen her up close since their breakup, so he didn’t know if she had long, short, buzzed hair, hell he didn’t even know if she had colored it differently.
“You didn’t forget my (favorite flavor) tea, did you?”
Kuroo stops in the middle of ringing up a customer at the sound of a familiar voice. Over the last year and a half, he swore he had heard it several times, but this time he is positive that it’s her. He looks up just in time to see her smiling at someone that the aisle is preventing him from seeing and he feels his heart thump into his chest.
He wants to step away from the register, to tell them to just give him a moment, that’s all he needs with her to try to get her to just hear him out, but there’s a pretty long line and she disappears deeper into the store.
“Kuroo?”
He looks up from ringing up the few items that were placed on the counter and it was her. Her in person, not in his dreams or random memories that flooded his mind when was alone. He wanted to ask her to wait for him, to give him just a few minutes to talk to him, but the person next to her wrapped his arm around her and his heart sank.
“Are you on break from school?” She tilts her head to the side.
“Just thought I’d take some time off, clear my head.” He told them the total price, the mystery man handing him the amount. “What about you?” She clears her throat, shifting a bit awkwardly which isn’t missed on either man. “Bo invited us to celebrate him signing to a pro team.” “Ah. So this is…” The man quickly introduces himself, Kuroo doesn’t bother to catch his name, but the title he gives himself sticks in his mind: boyfriend. He wants to be mad, how could she just move on like that? How could she just forget everything they had and start over with this…guy?
“We should get going, Y/N.”
“It was nice seeing you.” She gives him a small polite smile, taking the man’s hand as they walked out of the store. But she pauses before going through the door and for a brief moment Kuroo holds his breath, hoping she’ll tell him she wants to talk. She doesn’t, instead she shakes her head with a small laugh and follows her boyfriend outside.
That’s the moment Kuroo realizes that he no longer has a place in her life to go back to, that no matter how hard and tightly he holds onto the memories they made, he would never get her back. And that realization shook Kuroo to his core.
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the countdown | kevin hayes
a/n: @hockeynetwork ran another wonderful fic exchange this season! i had the lovely @fanfics-for-the-hockey-fan and one of the questions i asked you was for your favorite tropes. you gave me “families are super close and have a bet going on who realize they are in love with each other first.” this is...not quite that 😂 but similar and i hope you enjoy anyway 💚
8:43 pm
Olivia slams her car door shut and checks her watch, swearing as she jogs around to the passenger side to gather everything she’s brought. Besides her activity ring judging her for not meeting her goal, she’s late and she’s going to take so much shit for that.
She practically jogs to the door (or, well, as best as she can in her high heeled booties), plate of her famous chocolate chip cookies in hand, and then stops abruptly right on the front porch when the door opens before she can do it herself.
There goes her hope of just sneaking in.
It’s Jimmy. Of course, it’s Jimmy, with that classic Hayes shit-eating grin on his face as he greets her, even though this isn’t even his fucking house. “Livvy! Rolling in 45 minutes late even though you’re the closest one here.”
“This is honestly so rude of you.” She complains, even as she pulls him in for a hug. She wouldn’t have expected any less from Jimmy, who gives her just as much shit as her own older brother does and always has, ever since they were all kids growing up together in Dorchester. “This is how you treat me, after I show up here with cookies I made especially for you?”
His eyes light up, like she knew they would, even though they both know they’re not just for him. But her chocolate chip cookies are a big hit with all of them, and instead of calling her out on it, he reaches for the plate. “I’ll just take those from you now; put them somewhere safe.”
Olivia laughs. “Nuh-uh. Lemme in; it’s cold as fuck out here.”
Jimmy finally steps aside so she can follow him in the doorway, and only then does Liv hand him the plate of cookies, so that she can take off her coat, revealing the sparkly tank she’d dragged out of her closet just for the evening. “Where’s the champagne?” She pouts, as he leads her on a familiar route deeper into the house. “You came to greet me at the door and didn’t even bring me bubbly?”
“Kristin probably drank it all already.” He jokes, which is straight blasphemy, because she knows his wife set aside at least two bottles just for the two of them to share the minute she walked in the door.
“My girl would never!” Olivia says confidently, and sure enough, the second the two of them walk into the family room to join the rest of the families, his wife is holding up two flutes of champagne with a large smile on her face.
“Livvy!” Kristin cheers and Liv finds herself being pulled into the blonde for a hug and a glass of champagne being thrust into her hand before anyone in her own family can even say hello to her. “You’re here, finally.”
“Oh my god!” Olivia takes a sip of her champagne and rolls her eyes, exasperated. “Every person in this room has been more late to something than I am right now! Jack’s never showed up to Thanksgiving on time or without a hangover in his life and nobody says shit!” She deflects to her younger brother, who holds his hands up innocently.
“We’re not talking about me right now, Livvy.” The grin on Jack’s face widens, somehow. “We’re talking about you lying to all of us.”
She’s absolutely taken aback by that because she hasn’t? She’d panicked in the group chat earlier about getting stuck on a call at work, and then stuck in traffic, which set her back getting ready to come over here and meet all of them. She would have been on time. She’s always on time. “What are you talking about?” She frowns, as a tall person drops an arm around her shoulders and squeezes. “I haven’t lied to anyone.” She looks over at Nolan and pulls a face at him, and then laughs as he deadpans one back to her.
She’d been sure that her long time best friend’s roommate had hated her when they first met, but Kevin had been quick to assure her that was just how Nolan was. It hadn’t taken her long to realize that was true. Beneath Nolan’s resting bitch face that put hers to absolute shame, was an absolute sweetheart; she hated having to admit she was wrong to Kevin.
“To anyone?” Jimmy and Mike, Liv’s older brother, are looking at each other with this ridiculous look of both disbelief and mocking. “Not lying about anything?”
“You saw me literally last week?” She addresses her brother. She’d gone home for Christmas; they’d sat with all their cousins at their grandmother’s and had a great time, just like always. “What the fuck are you on?”
“Olivia!” Her mom snaps, half-heartedly, not even looking away from the conversation she’s having with Liv’s dad and Kevin’s parents.
But Mike merely grins at her. “I don’t know, Liv.” He says, as she’s lifted off the floor and twirled around. “You tell me.”
But she can’t really hear anything he says after that, too busy laughing and shoving at Kevin, trying (unsuccessfully) to get him to put her down. He does, finally, but leaves his arm around her shoulders, even when she tries to shove her shoulders against him in retaliation (a wildly unsuccessful attempt, he goes absolutely nowhere, she really just ends up bringing herself closer to him). “Here’s my girl!” Kevin cheers, shaking her enough that she almost spills what’s left in her champagne glass (and she would have killed him for wasting such a commodity). “ I told you to take off today.”
“Ugh, I wish I could have.” Except they have this huge launch in the first week of the year and they’re still putting finishing touches on, so that was absolutely not happening. It’ll be a miracle that they finish on time as it is. She’s going to pop so much champagne once this goes off.
Kevin, who’s definitely familiar with this work project that she’s been bitching about for months now, laughs; he knows she couldn’t take off earlier, even if she’d really wanted too, and he squeezes her shoulders once. “A few more days and you’re done. Forever.” She clinks her glass against his beer in a cheers. Bless. “Thank god.” He continues. “I don’t like the person you are when you’re 3am deep in emails, Livvy.”
“Lies.” She elbows him, the only time she can really get some leverage against him, when her bony elbow manages to find the spot just under his ribcage. “You love me all the time.”
“Well that’s cute.” Mike says, in that dangerous voice that Liv always finds hard to read. “Just the nicest couple of liars.” And it’s the way he says couple, that really does it for her, but it goes right over Kevin’s head, if the way he just leads her to the kitchen to put down her cookies and get a plate of food, is any indication.
-----
9:23 pm
“Okay, spill.” Kristin says, the second she manages to get Liv alone, not a terribly easy feat, as Liv’s been doing everything she can to avoid that.
“Spill what?” Kristin’s got that look in her eyes, like she’s not going to let this go...whatever this is.
“Whatever’s going on with you and Kev.”
Olivia blinks. “There’s nothing going on with me and Kev.” Except that’s maybe not exactly true. It’s not a lie- there’s definitely nothing going on between them. They’re still friends, definitely still friends. But...there’s definitely not nothing between them either.
There’s too many late nights on one of their couches, spent doing absolutely nothing but talking. Too many lingering touches that don’t lead anywhere. Too many glances across a crowded room where she feels like a magnet is pulling her there in the first place, and then can’t seem to pull herself away.
So like. There’s not nothing. But nothing’s changed; they’re still goofy Kevin and organized Liv, best friends taking on the world (in Philly, now; together again, finally).
“Bullshit.” Kristin calls her out, but Liv’s saved by the arrival of one of Kevin’s sisters, who tries to wrangle them in for a picture before they all become too messy later.
It’s an easy reminder though, of how well these people all know her. So it’s probably time to lock it down for the night.
-----
10:05 pm
It’s quiet in the kitchen, where Olivia has made herself busy cleaning up after stopping in the bathroom. She’s gathered up leftovers of anything that needs to be put away, separated into bags and containers for everyone to take home, and then started on the dishes, when suddenly she feels a finger poke her side, before an entire arm wraps around her stomach.
“Stop that.” Kevin murmurs into her ear, trying to tug her away. “They’ll still be dirty for us tomorrow.”
“It’s fine.” She fights against him. “The whole thing took me like, five minutes.”
“You’ve been gone for fifteen.” Kevin says, wrapping his other hand around her waist and lifting her away from the sink. “And that’s not the point.”
He sets her down on the other side of the counter; the sink’s not even in reach anymore. She gets her revenge by wiping her wet hands on his henley, but Kev doesn’t even blink, still staring down at her. “I was almost done!” She protests.
“We can clean the kitchen tomorrow.” Kevin says calmly. “Come hang out with us. I know you’ve got this thing about cleaning and order and shit but I swear to God, Nols and I are not going to fight you on this; you can put everything back wherever you want to put it tomorrow.”
Liv bites her lip so he won’t see her laugh, but of course he knows and a grin immediately stretches across his face. “I’m going to hold you to that.” She says. “I’m finally reorganizing your spice shelf.”
“It’s chaos and we like it that way.” Kevin grins and it’s only when she shakes her head, and the ends of her hair actually hit his face does she realize how close he is.
“It’s anxiety-inducing,” She corrects, smiling right back as Kevin brushes her hair back from her face. “And I don’t know how you two ever get any food made here.”
“Meal service.” Kevin shrugs, but his voice is almost overshadowed by the sound of a gasp behind her.
When she and Kevin both go to look though, the hallway is empty, and Liv shrugs right back at Kevin, before they both grab fresh drinks and join their families again.
-----
11:18 pm
Once Nolan eliminates her from the annual beer pong tournament (fuck him AND his bony elbows that were definitely over the line), Liv drapes herself over her mom’s shoulders and squeezes. Across from her, the Hayes’ both laugh, and her dad just rolls his eyes fondly, but Olivia knows her mom and knows she doesn’t care.
In fact, she welcomes it. Her mom squeezes her hand and she’s grinning, always happy for these moments with her children. “Tough loss, kid.”
“It’s fine.” Liv says, not at all bitter. “Nols is a cheating cheater who cheats. Kev will avenge me.” He’s already up by three cups; it’s looking pretty good.
There’s more laughter, and then her mom is squeezing her hand again. “We’re really happy for you, you know.”
Liv’s a little tipsy, so she doesn’t really question the strangeness of that statement. She kisses her mom’s cheek and hugs her again. “Love you guys too!” She says, and then goes back to watching Kevin clean up for the rest of this game.
-----
11:55 pm
With five minutes to midnight and Kristin crowned as this year’s beer pong champ, the attention turns to the countdown and a flutter of activity toward preparing their traditional midnight champagne toast.
Olivia accepts her glass from her mom and then wanders off to find her phone quickly, dead set on getting a picture of the toast for an instagram post in the morning. It’s still in the kitchen, where she’d left it when cleaning earlier, and she grabs it off the counter, ignoring most of the messages on there in favor of checking the one from Kristin (what she could possibly have to say when she’s literally across the room…).
It’s not actually a text; it’s a picture. A picture of Liv and Kevin, right after Kevin had beaten Nolan at beer pong. She’d thrown herself at him; he’d lifted her up in celebration, both of them laughing and cheering. They look happy and perfect and like something...it’s practically a boyfriend filter...except it’s two of them, her and Kevin.
Definitely not nothing.
“Whatcha looking at?” Kevin’s voice surprises her; she’d been so focused she hadn’t even heard him come up to her.
Liv’s so not the risk taker in this friendship; Kev’s the one dragging her out to new places and new things while she’s the one telling him to take a step back and think things through. And yet, even though it’s the scariest thing in the world to show him, it somehow doesn’t feel like she’s diving in headfirst at all as she tilts the screen a little for him to see. “Kristin sent me this.”
Even though he’s standing right next to her, Kevin still takes a step closer and his free hand, the one not holding his flute of champagne, slides around her waist. “Hey!” He grins, squeezing her gently. “It’s us!”
“Yeah,” She says, much more quietly. “It is.”
He’s quiet for a moment then, but doesn’t move away either. “It’s a good picture of us.”
“It is.” She repeats, agreeing.
“That’s not why you showed me this, is it?”
“No.” Liv swallows the lump in her throat nervously. “It’s not.”
“Livvy.” Kevin says gently and that’s it. That’s all it takes for her to open up.
“I’m so tired of this, Kev.” She shakes her phone, like that’s going to explain everything. “This-this in between thing. This more than friends, but not quite more. I hate it here! I hate looking at this picture and seeing what Kristin sees but knowing that what she sees is wrong. I hate the uncertainty, I hate feeling like there’s this thing but then neither of us does anything, so it just lingers.” She takes a breath, set on continuing, but Kevin jumps in before she can.
“You just hate not knowing something.” He grins.
“Kevin.” Liv snaps crankily, but before she can say anything else to him, he’s pressing her back against the counter and kissing her.
She’s vaguely aware of her champagne crashing to the ground, never more thankful for the fake plastic flutes that their moms always insist on, but Liv really can’t be bothered, even by spilled champagne, as she grips Kevin’s hips to pull herself closer and sinks into a truly amazing first kiss.
“Aw, hell yeah!” She hears from behind her, and pulls away reluctantly, noting the equally annoyed look on Kevin’s face. “I knew it, let’s go!”
It’s Jimmy, looking entirely too pleased to find his brother making out against a counter than he eats off all the time. Actually, it’s all of them- Jimmy, Kristin, Nolan, her brothers, Kevin’s sisters, their parents. All staring at them with bright grins on their faces and bickering.
“I told you-”
“We all fucking knew-” Jack shoves at Mike.
“-they’ve been together for ages.”
“Hey, back up! Just because they were making out now, doesn’t mean they’ve been together for ages; I had New Year’s in the pool!” Nolan pouts.
“I’m sorry,” Liv says, apparently sounding terrifying enough that every one of them stops talking. “There was a pool?”
Every one of them freezes, but for barely a moment, before they’re all talking over each other again and bumping into each other in their haste to back up. “Come on, we’re not even going to ask when this happened?” She hears Jack complain. “There’s $500 on the line here!”
“It’ll stay that way.” Kevin calls and Liv buries her face in his chest to hide her laugh. “Not telling you now!” A few groans echo back into the kitchen as he looks down at her to confirm her agreement. “We’re not telling them...ever, right?”
“Oh, it’s you and me to the grave.” Liv confirms, pulling him down for another kiss.
#kevin hayes imagine#kevin hayes fanfic#hockey imagines#hockey fanfic#hockey fanfiction#nhl fanfic#nhl fanfiction#nhl imagines#my hockey fics
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Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (Chapter 3)
(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2)
series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind. you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.
word count: 2.5k
warnings: a brief and half-assed description of theoretical male masturbation. that’s it. lol.
moodboard by @evnscvll, if you’re not following her what are you doing with your life???
As the afternoon was just starting to wind down into the evening, you went for a stroll along the side of the lake; it was your new daily routine in this place, and you’d done it every afternoon for the past several days. You found yourself looking for Sebastian outside, and being oddly disappointed when he was nowhere to be found. It took you a bit to appreciate that the strange feelings and behaviors you were exhibiting were a crush. You hadn’t had one in so long, not since you’d met your husband, that you almost forgot what it was like. This one felt particularly childish, exceptionally misguided, as you knew so little about the man. What was it that made you want to be around him anyways? There were plenty of guys you’d met since getting married that were, on paper, worthy of a crush. Successful, kind, good-looking... who knows, maybe if you’d been lonely and desperate and saw one of them hammering nails shirtless in the sun, you’d have been in the same predicament you are now.
And that was exactly why you needed to get your mind off this guy ASAP. You were just projecting your loss onto him. You’d been feeling neglected and unattractive because of everything that had happened with your husband and he had been kind to you. And helpful. And handy in a way your husband had never been. And so devastatingly hot.
He must know, right? you thought to yourself as you took in the scenery, just barely making out grey-ish shadows of mountains in the distance. He must know that he looks like that, and exactly the effect he has on women.
...And a decent portion of men, probably.
The idea of him being overwhelmed with attention of that nature made you feel slightly jealous. He was probably the exact kind of person you weren’t in high school: a heartbreaker. Yes, this was the narrative you needed to keep yourself from falling any further into this crush; you two were sworn natural enemies-- him the heartbreaker, you the heartbroken. A guy like him probably didn’t even give a girl like you the time of day.
Except, he had. He’d been friendly and attentive. Maybe he works for tips or something? Why else would he be giving you any of his energy?
No, that was specifically not the line of thinking you needed at the moment. Does he think about me when I’m not around? Could he think of me as much as I think of him? you found yourself wondering anyways.
Either way, he could never beat me at overthinking, you smiled to yourself. I always win at that one.
You’d almost spent too much time outside; it was nearly too dark to see by the time you made it back to the cottage. Clearly the bustling city had trained you to stay up late, but out here, you had no recourse if the sun set while you were outside without a flashlight.
It was so late, in fact, that Sebastian was nowhere to be found when you passed through the living room— and since he was certainly not working outside with no light to use, you figured he’d gone to bed. By now you knew where his room was, but you’d never seen it. Not that you wanted to. It was none of your business.
Making your way up the stairs, you tried to avoid the creakiest spots in case he was asleep. It wasn’t that late though, he was probably just… doing whatever people do before bed when they don’t have a television. Reading a book, maybe?
You shook your head to no one in particular. You shouldn’t be thinking about him so much. God, having a crush was exhausting.
Oh god, what if he, you know… took care of himself, before bed? It’s a fun way to end the day and wear yourself out for sleep, certainly. You felt your face turning hot just imagining him in such a compromising position. You didn’t even mean to imagine it, it just sort of happened. Maybe right now, just as you were struggling to keep quiet on this rickety old staircase, he was trying to keep quiet as he stroked his cock, the muscles in his arm flexing with each movement, that perfect bottom lip caught between his surprisingly white teeth.
Probably not. But it was a nice thought.
Just as you stepped into your room and shut the door behind you, you thought you saw something in the corner of your eye. Turning to look, you realized that there was a rat running across the floor. With an embarrassingly girlish scream, you ran and jumped on your bed, trying to see where it went while keeping elevated; you know, just in case it tried to run up your leg like in a cartoon or something.
Creaking outside alerted you that someone was running up the stairs. Your door flew open to reveal Sebastian, wearing only pyjama trousers and a very concerned facial expression.
"Este totul în regulă?"
"There's a rat!" you screeched.
"Ce?" he asked with a furrowed brow of confusion.
You tried to explain, but how could you? Pointing to where you saw it last, it was gone, so you turned back-- only to see it running towards him! Screaming again, you pointed to the rodent barreling towards his feet and, finally, he understood.
In fact, he understood your situation better than you realized he would, so much so that he jumped up on the bed with you with a blood-curdling scream of his own.
"Şobolan!" he yelped, and you weren't sure there was room on this bed for two people afraid of rats but here you were anyway.
You both watched it scurry into a corner, and he seemed to relax a little.
"What are we going to do?"
"Stai așa," he said as he raised a finger as if to indicate 'wait', "ma voi intoarce."
He lept from the bed straight to the open doorway and dashed down the stairs. You figured he might come back with a broom or jar, so you were beyond surprised to see him come back with an enormous shotgun, quickly pumping it and bracing the stock against his shoulder.
"Unde este?" he asked quickly, closing one eye to look over the sights.
You nearly screamed your protest. "Jesus, Sebastian! Don't shoot it!"
“Ce vrei sa fac?!” he squawked in reply.
“I don’t know!” you replied. “Just put the gun down!”
He looked a little disappointed but lowered the barrel.
Hearing a squeak and a scurry from the corner of the room, you jumped off of your bed and found yourself hiding behind Sebastian.
“Nu sunt la fel de curajoasă pe cât crezi,” he said as he turned back to look at you.
“I can’t sleep here,” you admitted with a sigh. “We can set a trap in the morning, or hope it escapes on it’s own…” you trailed off, talking mostly to yourself as you made your way back downstairs. Sebastian shut the door quickly with a shudder before following behind you.
You pulled a blanket off of the loveseat as you passed through the living room, dragging it with you to the couch.
“Nu te pot lăsa să dormi pe canapea!” he protested when you laid down and covered yourself with it— after leaning the gun against a wall, thank god. You wondered where it was normally kept for him to have grabbed it so fast.
“I can’t sleep in my room,” you explained.
“Poți să dormi în patul meu,” he announced, pointing down the hall.
“What?”
“Poți să,” he repeated slower, pointing to you, “dormi,” he laid his face on his hands and feigned sleep for a moment, “în patul meu,” he pointed to the hall again.
“There’s another bedroom down the hall?” you asked as you sat up a little, not having realized there was a third bedroom.
“Da,” he nodded with a smile.
You got up, the blanket still wrapped over your shoulders, and followed him to the room down the hall and around the corner.
As he opened the door, you smiled but sighed as you realized you couldn’t sleep in here. The bed was still disturbed from where he’d jumped out of it; there was a picture in a frame by the bed.
“Sebastian, I’m not going to steal your room just because I’m afraid of a probably-harmless rat,” you sighed. “I’ll take the couch—”
You turned to walk back into the living room but his arm across the doorway stopped you.
“Te rog ia-mi patul și voi dormi pe canapea,” he instructed, motioning away from his chest towards the living room to, apparently, indicate he would sleep on the couch in your place.
“I can’t let you—”
He gently grabbed your wrist, getting your attention.
“Nu e nicio problemă,” he soothed. “Noapte bună!”
He basically just shoved you into the room after that, shutting the door behind you. You supposed it was the best option, but you still felt a little guilty that he was being kicked out of his own bed.
You turned and looked at the very bed in question. Realizing you should change the sheets, you began to search the room for a linen closet or chest that might have a spare set.
You weren’t intending to snoop, per se. You really just wanted the sheets… but it was a nice glimpse into the personal life of a man you knew so little about. A room says a lot about someone, of course.
The picture on the bedside table was of a family with a small boy; it looked like it had been taken by an instant camera, the sepia tones evoking a bygone era. You assumed that the boy was Sebastian, considering the faint resemblance. He looked happy, and so did his mother; his father less so, but it seemed stoic more than negative. Next to the photo was a card which rested partially open— thankfully, you couldn’t read it even if you wanted to, but you could also see the signature inside from where you were standing: “Iubesc, Mama.”
You weren’t sure if it meant ‘love’ or ‘sincerely’ or something else, but it made you smile. You figured his mother must miss him with him living in Hungary for work. You wondered if anyone missed you back in London.
A lot of his clothes were strewn in a pile on a chair in the corner. Relatable.
Inside a small white paper box, you found a silver locket— oddly enough, no picture inside. While ignoring the fact that you obviously were snooping because you would never look for queen-size sheets in a white paper box, you wondered why he would have something like that. Maybe it was a relic from a previous relationship, and hopefully not a current one; maybe it was his sister’s or his mother’s. Hell, maybe it was his: you weren’t the sort of person to say a guy couldn’t rock a silver locket. He had the masculinity to spare, surely.
You gave up after searching the closet and the side bathroom and finding no sign of linens. Surprisingly, he owned a lot of shirts. They didn’t seem to get much use. He wouldn’t mind if you stole one to use as pyjamas, right?
Pulling a soft button-up from the hanger, you stripped and changed into it, loving how small you felt with it on. You snuggled up into the sheets and took a deep breath as you realized you were surrounded in the smell of him. Oh, this was a very dangerous game to play. You needed to be avoiding this infatuation, not indulging it by playing girlfriend. It was almost like you two shared this bed, like he would come back any moment and pull you into his arms, kiss you goodnight. You saw the light from the living room go dark through the crack under the door and felt another pang of guilt for his night spent on the old sofa. Maybe in the morning you could convince him to take a day off or something, just so he could relax for once.
Your last thought was of him as you drifted to sleep. You wished you could say that wasn’t true of every other night.
The next morning came early; he slept with the shutters open, something you hadn’t noticed when it was dark out. The sun shined directly into your eyes at about six in the morning.
“Must be an early riser,” you mumbled to yourself as you got up and used the side bathroom, splashing your face to perk yourself up a little. When you left the hallway tentatively in pursuit of breakfast, all that was left of him was a Sebastian-shaped dent in the couch. As you began to make a pot of coffee, you heard someone step into the kitchen behind you.
“Good morning,” you greeted as you turned around and smiled at Sebastian.
“...Cămașă mea,” he realized, pointing to you with raised eyebrows. You glanced down and remembered what you were wearing, feeling yourself blush a little. Maybe you should’ve put on pants…
“Oh, this… yeah, sorry, I hope you don’t mind…”
“Îl porți mai bine decât mine,” he shrugged, and it seemed to be a vague approval, so you kept on making the coffee.
“You want some?” you offered, pointing to him and a mug as he stepped past you and sat at the table.
“Nu, mulțumesc,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand. You nodded and poured your own, sitting across from him and sipping quietly. You hadn’t noticed he was holding a book before; the shirtlessness, as always, distracted from that sort of detail. But now that he pulled it out and continued from where he must have been before, you laughed a little. It was clearly a Romanian translation, but the title was Dracula.
“Isn’t that a little stereotypical?” you giggled.
He looked up from the book at you, and you pointed to it. “Ah, Dracula!” he said.
“Yep, I’ve read that one.”
He made a little hissing noise, holding his fingers up and curling them, and you realized he was doing a vampire impression. You laughed again.
“You don’t make for a convincing vampire, what with the healthy glow and all,” you smirked. “But feel free to bite my neck any time.”
For a second he made a serious, almost shocked face like he had somehow understood what you’d said, and you straightened up from sudden fear. But he only nodded and returned to his book, relieving your anxiety a bit. You realized that just because he didn’t speak English didn’t mean you could say whatever you wanted; maybe you’d given more away than you meant to with your facial expression. Or maybe he really had no idea that you’d said anything notable at all and it was just a coincidence.
Maybe you needed to change out of this man’s shirt before it drove you even more insane.
~
@mariahthelioness29 @navybrat817 @navegandoaciegas @mandalorianspace @2smittinkittin @maizyistrash (it won’t let me tag you :(( fuck tumblr) @honeygingergemini @msmarvelwrites @honeyloverogers @toozmanykids @dangertoozmanykids101 @fleeingdawn-blog1 @readermia @fanfuckingtastic04
#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x y/n#sebastian stan fluff#sebastian stan fanfic#sebastian stan x you#just a reminder that this is a love actually au... this will come into play again next chapter lmao
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Touch (Pt 6)
Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader
WARNINGS: 18+ only please! Drug abuse/withdrawal, adult language/themes, heavy angst, past trauma/abuse, anxiety/panic attacks, PTSD, fluff, pining, slow burn, eventual emotional SMUT. *please pay attention to the chapter tags as these warnings will apply at different times*
Synopsis: When you first joined the LOV to lend your healing quirk, Dabi terrified you. Not interested in attachments, he wanted to keep it that way. That is, until he needs your help. (Slow burn, soft Dabi).
Special thank you to @salvator-heartbreaker who has helped me hash out this chapter and some future plot details; this would not be as amazing as it is without her help!
Chapter warning: Buckle up, y’all. This chapter is LONG. Like, 12k words long (separating it into multiple chapters was NOT an option). Prepare yourself for a roller coaster of feels. Also, please PLEASE be aware of the warning tags.
Recommended Chapter Songs: Overdose by grandson/The Drug In Me Is Reimagined by Falling in Reverse
Part 1 Part 5
Artwork credit to @hellowon31 on Twitter (https://twitter.com/hellowon31)
Part 6 - The Long Night
After Dabi left, you cleaned up the various items around the room. You placed the pills back into your bag from where they were in your pocket. A moment later, you decided against that location and put the bottle under your pillow within your pillowcase. You changed your mind again, taking the pill bottle into the bathroom to stuff it with cotton. It would keep the pills from rattling. You returned the bottle to its hiding place under your pillow. If Dabi came back looking for more, you wanted to have them within reach and not where he’d immediately look for them. You placed the damp washcloth in your hamper and drank some water before lying in bed with your phone in your hand.
You were only on your phone for a few minutes before you felt sleep start to drag at your eyelids, so you turned off your light and put your phone on your nightstand. Sleep was elusive, however. You stared at the ceiling pensively. Something nagged at your mind, but in your groggy, tired state, you couldn’t figure out what it was. You felt each minute tick by with painstaking slowness, frequently checking the time on your phone while your thoughts ran a mile a minute. It mulled over what had transpired, what was said and done, and how you felt… It was like flipping through an entire novel in a matter of seconds and then trying to describe a specific, obscure scene hidden within its pages.
By your fifth minute, you gave up and sat up in your bed. Your hands went under your pillow, feeling the familiar bottle in your fingers.
Realization hit. You quickly turned on your lamp. You pulled the bottle out of your pillowcase and spilled the contents out onto your comforter. You counted the amount and your breath stopped.
No.
You counted again.
FUCK.
You always made it a point to know exactly how many pills you had of anything you carried, but especially so for these pills.
You quickly put the remaining medication back into the bottle, counting them as they fell in with a tap. Then, you got up out of your bed and hid the pills inside an unused pair of shoes which you then put into a black duffle bag in the top of your closet. You only hoped Dabi didn’t come looking for them. At this rate, if he was willing to steal from you, then he’d be willing to rifle through your things.
Betrayal, cold and hard, soaked into your bones. You tried to reason with yourself, to talk yourself through what you knew about addiction, what you had learned in med school. But taking what was learned in a textbook, with no emotional attachment, and applying it into this situation did little to assuage the feelings roiling within you. This wasn’t hypothetical. This was real.
Even worse than the betrayal was the cold hard fact: Dabi could kill himself. And all because you left him alone for less than a minute. Did he already take them? How long ago did he leave your room? Your brain didn’t have time to do the math as you dashed across the hallway to his door.
You didn’t bother to knock – not this time. Thankfully, Dabi must have been so out of it that he forgot to lock it. You barreled in like a fiery chariot knocking down Hell’s gate, slamming the door behind you loudly enough to wake the dead. You didn’t care. In that moment, nothing else mattered but getting those pills back.
Dabi sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. He looked up at you groggily when the door slammed. His movements were noticeably slower, his pallor a sickly grey and shining with sweat.
“You took my pills.” You seethed. “Give them back.”
“What?” Dabi slurred.
“My pills, Dabi! Three of them are missing! Give them to me!”
He looked down at his hands as if confused by what they were. “I don’t have them.” He replied.
“Bull-fucking-shit!” you shot back. “I swear to God, Dabi, I will search this room until I find them.”
He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. “I already took them. And stop fucking shouting.”
“You what???” You gasped. “What the fuck, Dabi?? Why would you do that??”
He stood up now, angry at your presence, at your justified rage that he knew he was responsible for but didn’t want to face. He was barely keeping himself together as it was. His insides felt like a writhing, fiery snake. His head felt filled with cotton. And underneath it all, the pain hummed low like a purring beast. He couldn’t decide if the pills he took were actually working or not. The relief he thought they’d give him evaded him like a shadow.
“I told you I needed more.” Dabi replied.
“Dabi, you can O.D. on this!” you shot back.
“I’m not gonna O.D.” Dabi scoffed as he swayed on his feet. He fought the sickness rolling over him in waves, great crests threatening to drown him like a raging sea. He didn’t need this right now. Not with you here. Fuck. When did he get so fucking weak?
Your body instantly became poised to catch him if he fell. He needed to throw up what he took. That was the only option. Your mind frantically tried to assess if he was weak enough for you to overpower him, to try to put your fingers down his throat to trigger his gag reflex.
“Your drugs are weak as shit compared to what I was taking before. I can handle it.” He continued. “I know what I’m doing.” His eyes were unfocused as they tried to stare down at you.
Suddenly, the wave crested, higher than he could tread. Immediately his mouth began to water in sickly preparation, his gag reflex kicking in while his gut clenched. He stumbled to the bathroom, shoving you aside in the process, just in time to empty the contents of his stomach. It was clear, made of only the water he drank and the partially dissolved pills that he had stolen.
A wave of relief washed over you while Dabi emptied what remained of the drugs into the toilet. A part of you was still angry, wanting to give him an ‘I told you so,’ but you held back, instead keeping an eye on him from the bathroom doorway to make sure he was okay.
Once he was done, he leaned back against the bathroom wall, a pained grimace on his face, the metal rings pulling along his cheeks. His breaths were ragged and heavy. “Fuck.” He muttered. He should have eaten the stupid crackers. What a fucking waste.
Once you were sure he was okay for the moment, you paced back into the bedroom to try to calm your nerves. He threw up what he took. That was good. Of course, that also meant there was no telling how long your meds would stay in his system now, and once they started to wear off, he’d continue to suffer through withdrawal since you couldn’t give him more right away. This was just the beginning for him.
A knock on the door resounded into the room, interrupting your thoughts.
“Don’t answer it.” Dabi rasped from his spot next to the toilet.
You stared at him for a moment and waited while discomfort settled over you like an itchy blanket. You understood his need for privacy, but you also needed help… at least to have someone bring some water and food. It was going to be a long night and at this rate, Dabi was going to become severely dehydrated
Another knock came through, more persistent this time.
“Dabi,” called Toga’s voice. “Are you okay in there???”
Twice’s muffled voice followed. “He probably wants to be left alone. Fuck this guy.”
“I’m not gonna just leave him, Twice. You heard him in there.” Toga replied in annoyance.
Dabi groaned in frustration, his head in his shaking hands in denial. Why did it have to be Toga of all people? She was annoyingly persistent, poking her nose where it didn’t belong and not taking hints when her prying wasn’t welcome. The last thing he wanted was her and Twice standing outside his door while he hurled into the stinking toilet. They’d probably barge in without permission. You seeing him like this was bad enough – but at least he could excuse your involvement as the team’s medic, even if the vulnerability ate away at him. But letting them see him like this? He’d rather light everything on fire.
“Make them go away.” He whispered hoarsely.
You leapt at the opportunity, rushing to the door. You opened it to see Twice in his usual gear and Toga in a pink pajama set, her hair pulled back into twin buns. Her hand was outstretched as if ready to grasp an invisible doorknob.
“Hey guys.” You said through a fake bubbly smile. “It’s okay, I’m in here with him.”
“What the hell is going on??” Twice demanded.
“We heard a door slam, and yelling, and I’m pretty sure I heard someone throwing up.” Toga said crossing her arms.
They heard yelling – did they hear what you had shouted at Dabi? About him taking your drugs? You mentally scolded yourself for being so loud earlier. There had to be some way you could play it off.
You felt your skin get hot with embarrassment. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’m helping him out.”
“What’s wrong?” Toga asked nosily. “Is Dabi hungover? He sounds like he’s hungover.”
“Stomach flu.” You improvised. You hoped they believed it. If they did, it’d give Dabi a reason to be left alone by the other league members for a few days while you helped him out.
Neither of them showed any doubt with your explanation. Toga made a disgusted face while Twice sighed. “Well, that’s a fucking relief. But keep the damn noise down!”
You smirked at his dual reactions. “Sorry, Twice.”
“Do you need anything?” Toga asked. “Water? Food?”
“Drugs?” Twice chimed in.
You froze like a deer in headlights for a moment before you realized he probably meant the kind that wasn’t illegal.
“Water and food would be appreciated. Something easy on the stomach, like crackers. And bananas if we have any left. I already have the other supplies I need.” You commented. Then, you remembered - Shit. Your supply bag was still in your room….
“Sure thing, big sis!” Toga replied through a cheery smile, her fangs prominent. “Come on, Twice. You can help me carry stuff.” Twice followed after her and you closed the door with a breath of relief before the sound of Dabi retching again made you go check on him.
His fingers grasped the toilet seat while his body shook, his knuckles as white as the porcelain they held onto. Spit dangled from his parted lips, his nose running, his eyes squeezed shut as he fought his body’s reactions to his poor choices.
After a minute, he leaned back and carelessly wiped his face with his bare arm, the fluids glistening on his skin in the light of the bathroom.
His face was pulled into a grimace, eyes squeezed shut against the brightness, his body slumped against the wall. “You should have taken Twice up on his offer.” He said with a forced grin through wet lips.
“Not funny, Dabi.” You scolded. “Drugs are the last thing you need. Besides, you know that’s not what he meant.”
“Well I certainly don’t think water and some fucking bananas are going to fix this.” He replied sourly.
“Better than your solution of taking six of my pills.” You shot back. “A lot of good that did you, huh?”
He opened his eyes to give you a cold glare, his mouth opening to protest. But his words were cut short by another round of vomiting, nothing coming up but thin strings of yellow bile from his empty stomach while his gut spasmed and clenched. You furrowed your brow. His nausea was getting worse, his vomiting more frequent. You wanted to use your quirk to alleviate his pain, but you couldn’t. Not for this. If his body couldn’t register the pain signals his gut was sending to his brain, then there was a chance the vomiting would stop. Throwing up was what he needed to make sure the stolen pills were out of his system.
Even aside from the vomiting, there was the issue of using your quirk too much, too soon. You could no longer fall back on your pills to manage your own pain if you pushed yourself too far. Your lower back itched uncomfortably, as if the very thought woke up the scarred nerves there, old memories threatening to follow in their wake. You pushed them aside forcefully by focusing on the man in front of you.
If you over-exerted yourself too soon, you wouldn’t be able to help him later when things got worse. Once these pills wore off, which you weren’t sure when that would happen, you wouldn’t be able to give him new ones right away. You were already short three pills after his little stint, and even if you did give him pills, his body might still reject them if it wasn’t ready for them. That would only make things exponentially worse. It was better to skip a dosage now and get back on track with the remaining medication you had. You’d pair what you’d allotted for him with your own quirk as an added relief; you only hoped the combination would be adequate until his pills became available for pickup.
Once he was done dry heaving, you handed him a hand towel from the hanging bar next to you. You had no idea if it was clean – he probably used it to dry his hands after washing them - but it didn’t really matter. It was better than using his arm again. He took it in silence, his eyes avoiding yours in what you could only describe as shame. Your heart clenched. You knew he didn’t mean for this to happen. No one ever does. You wanted to reassure him, to let him know it was all going to be okay, but words escaped you. How could you even begin to tell him something like that while he’s retching into a toilet in the wee hours of the night?
Before you could think of something to say, there was a familiar knock on the door. You forced yourself to step away and answer it. Sure enough, Toga and Twice were there, their arms full of offerings.
“Here you go.” Toga said, her arms filled with six water bottles. Twice also presented an array of items in his arms – a box of saltine crackers, some canned soup with a pull-top lid, and a couple of bananas.
“Thanks.” You replied, taking the items and placing them on Dabi’s desk. You were grateful neither of them tried to enter while you unloaded their arms; perhaps they really did believe Dabi had the flu and were too scared of catching it.
“You can go back to bed if you want. We’ll be fine.” you suggested.
“Let us know if you need anything else!” Toga offered with a toothy grin. You smiled your gratitude and closed the door as they turned to leave.
Once you heard their footsteps fade down the hall followed by the closing of bedroom doors, you returned to the bathroom with a water bottle in hand. You knew food wasn’t going to be an option for a while, but at least this might help. Even if he threw it back up, it was better than bile. But before you could even hand the bottle to him, he convulsed, hugging the toilet again, gagging and coughing. You knelt next to him patiently, ready to offer the water in your hand or the towel now forgotten on floor… whatever he needed.
He spit the drool dangling from his mouth and continued to hover over the toilet bowl with a groan. Everything hurt. His abs, his throat, his sinuses… his head was still muddled from a variety of factors – dehydration, lack of sleep, the drugs. He hated himself, reduced to a useless fucking puddle like the loser he was, and all while you were here watching him. You, who even though he let you down - even though he stole from you - continued to stay and care for him. He didn’t want that for you, and he didn’t want the guilt of your presence continuously reminding him of how he failed you while his body fell apart on him.
“Get out of here.” He said gruffly. “You don’t need to be here for this.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” You replied. You knew he was pushing you away and you understood why, but that didn’t matter to you. Sure, you were mad at what he had done, but you also understood he couldn’t help it. His obvious shame was apology enough for now, and his well-being was more important to you than his pride.
“Leave.” He growled.
“I can’t.” You could feel tears start to sting at the corners of your eyes. You didn’t want to leave him. Not like this.
More dry retching overtook him, and guilt began to creep on you like a thorny vine, choking your words from your throat. He couldn’t fight you on this even if he wanted to; was it really fair to stay when he asked you to go? He made his decision clear – he wanted to be alone. Where were you supposed to draw the line between forcing your care on him for his safety versus respecting his need for privacy?
You stared at him as you warred within yourself. He obviously wasn’t going anywhere any time soon, and on the upside, he did throw up some of those pills. But what about later, when the pills wear off and the hunger returns? Could you trust that he would come to you, looking for what he knew you had? Or would he go elsewhere, and risk his safety on something potentially worse? You wanted to respect his wishes, but your body wouldn’t move.
Dabi’s world was spinning; round and round he went, as if the toilet had been flushed and he and his rejected pills were being washed away like the trash that he knew he was. He was breathing heavily now, painful groans falling from his lips. “Get the fuck out, Y/N.”
The sound of your name on his lips for the first time smacked you, your breath catching painfully behind the lump in your throat. You struggled to suppress the tears threatening to unleash themselves down your face. He said your name. He had never said it before. You had imagined that the first time he’d say your name would be a sign of trust and intimacy. This wasn’t that at all. Instead, it was a weapon, a foul word that stung you like a whip.
He didn’t want you here. Maybe your presence really was just making it worse for him. He’d focus more on not wanting you around and fighting your hep than he would actually trying to fight his withdrawal. You had to leave and hope that he would be able to come out of this on his own.
Without a word, you loosened the cap on the water bottle and set it on the floor next to him as a final offering before getting up off the cold tile to leave. You left the bathroom, while the sounds of his continued retching filled your ears. Each cough and gag from his battered throat deepened your guilt, reminding you how your irresponsibility had contributed to him getting into this mess. Yes, he stole from you. It still angered you. But at the same time, you were the one who had all your mental faculties and still left drugs within his reach when he came to you for help.
You placed two water bottles and the crackers on the nightstand for him. Then, you took the half-full trash bag out of his trash can and made sure it was near his bed, just in case he needed to throw up again later.
With one more glance at him through the bathroom doorway while he sat doubled over the toilet, you made your way to the door.
Please be safe, please be safe… you silently pleaded.
Just as you put your hand on the doorknob, you heard a thud.
“Dabi? Are you okay?” you called.
Only silence greeted you. A cold panic set in and you rushed into the bathroom to find Dabi unconscious on the floor, face down in a puddle of water. The water bottle you had left had tipped over, the cold liquid spreading across the bathroom tile and soaking into Dabi’s clothes. You pushed your panic aside as you immediately switched into emergency mode. You knelt by his side and rolled him over onto his back, cupping his face in your hand. His skin felt hot to the touch.
“Dabi??” You called. No response. You checked for a pulse and felt it fluttering beneath your fingers. “DABI??” you shouted as you lightly smacked his cheek. He didn’t respond. His color was lifelessly pale, but his chest rose and fell in slow breaths. He was breathing. You checked his pupils – dilated. He definitely still had your drugs in his system. How much, you weren’t sure. Once again, you were grateful that he had managed to throw up what he could.
His skin was burning. Was it already hotter than a moment ago? Was it a fever from the withdrawal? Or was it his quirk acting up, going haywire without him being able to consciously be in control of himself? The idea of his cremation randomly unleashing itself in the small bathroom made your throat dry up with dread.
You had to cool him down somehow. Dabi’s bathroom had a walk-in shower just a foot away, and you gave a silent thankful prayer to the universe. A bathtub would have made this entire fiasco exponentially more difficult.
First, you had to remove his clothes. They were trapping in his body heat at the moment, compounding his fever.
It wasn’t easy. Dabi was lean, but he certainly didn’t lack muscle, and what he lacked for in bulk, he made up for in height. It was awkward in the small space as you pulled his sweatpants off of him, exposing scarred legs with metal staples curving along his thighs. You left his boxers on. You couldn’t bring yourself to take them off of him while he was unconscious. His head lolled to the side while his eyes, now half-lidded, stared with an empty, unconscious gaze. His shirt was next, wet with sweat, water, and specks of bile. The fresh bandage that you had recently applied fell off as soon as the cotton fabric wasn’t there to hold it in place. The wound was healing, but it was still pink and raw. The slightest amount of pressure would reopen the sensitive tissue, undoing your hard work.
You needed your med kit.
Once he was undressed, you rolled him to his side. You didn’t want him to aspirate if he ended up vomiting again. Then, you ran the shower to let the water warm slightly. It needed to be lukewarm – cool enough to bring down his fever, but not so cold that it would shock his system and make him shiver. Shivering helped to increase body temperature, and that was the last thing he needed.
Once the water was running, you took one last look at the man laying unconscious on his side before making a mad dash out of his room and into yours to grab your medical bag by your bed. There was no time to double check the supplies in it; you only hoped you had what you needed. You grabbed a couple of clean towels from your own bathroom before running back into his room, thankfully unnoticed in the empty hall. It took less than a minute.
You bandaged his wound back up quickly, while he was on his side. It wasn’t the neatest work, but it would do for now. Already, his body temperature was noticeably higher than when you had left him. There was no time to check it with your thermometer - it was a race against the clock, now.
You rolled Dabi back onto his back to try and rouse him once again, picking him up slightly so he lay in your lap, while you called his name and cupped his cheek. His eyes fluttered open slightly, his head shifting at the sound of your voice, before his eyes closed again. You cursed under your breath and laid him back down the way you had him before while you checked the water temperature. It was warm enough, or so you hoped, since his own temperature kept rising. You turned off the water briefly to retrieve the unconscious man.
Finally, you were ready. You tried to grab Dabi from under his armpits, but his skin was almost too hot to touch for an extended period of time. Definitely quirk related. You grabbed a spare towel and tried again, this time protecting your hands and arms against his scalding skin. You wrapped your hands around his chest, your arms under his armpits, and began to drag him to the shower stall. You tried your best to be mindful of his scars and staples, hoping that dragging him across the floor wouldn’t tear anything. For a shower that was so close in proximity, it took a painstakingly long time to get him into it and properly positioned before you could step out and turn the shower back on.
Lukewarm water sputtered out of the showerhead, drenching his body from the chest down. The water steamed upon contact, reacting to the heat rolling off of him like asphalt on a hot summer’s day. Dabi stirred slightly, roused to consciousness by the sensation and the change in temperature. He looked around groggily until his blue eyes settled on you. You waited for him to say something, but no words came as his dazed eyes seemed to lose focus. The only sign that he was still somewhat conscious was the occasional slow blink while he watched you take a wet washcloth and squeeze it over his head to let the cool water soak his hair and dribble down his face and neck. The water trickled down his forehead to his brow, and you tenderly wiped it away with the washcloth to keep it from getting into his eyes. You followed the contours of his face with the cool cloth, along his jawline, across his cheeks.
Dabi closed his eyes for minutes at a time, only opening them briefly as you adjusted the water temperature slightly and again as your ran your fingers through his wet hair, moving the dripping strands from his forehead so you could see his face better. Color slowly began to creep back into his skin, the water no longer steamed. What you were doing was working, and you were grateful – so grateful – that you hadn’t left him yet. The rush of time slowed down. Dabi’s eyes closed again as you quietly hummed to yourself as you cared for him. It helped to calm your nerves and pass the time.
After what felt like ages, you finally checked his temperature, this time with the temporal thermometer you had in your bag. The number that beeped back at you satisfied you enough to turn the water off. You gave Dabi’s shoulder a small shake, and his eyes opened to look at you under heavy lids.
“Come on.” You whispered. “I need you to stand up.”
He licked his chapped lips as he braced himself into a standing position with your help and made the two feet distance to sit on his toilet, his wet boxers dribbling puddles of water onto the floor. You covered him in two towels, one for his head and one for his shoulders, before you stepped out of the bathroom for a moment to get him fresh clothes.
You realized quickly that he’d need to change out of his wet boxers – something you hadn’t considered earlier when you undressed him. You gulped briefly. Could he even do that on his own right now? He still was out of it and needed assistance just to stand.
There was no way around it. You’d have to help him.
You grabbed a pair of fresh boxers, black jersey shorts, and a white tee before returning to the bathroom. He was in the position you left him, the only difference being that he was now leaning against the wall while he sat on the toilet. His eyes were closed at first but they opened slightly when you nudged him gently. He still looked completely out of it.
Even so, you talked to him. “Dabi,” you whispered. “I have to change your boxers so I can put dry clothes on you. I’m going to help you stand up.”
He gave a slow blink but made no attempt to move or speak. As you wrapped your arms around his chest to help him up, he didn’t fight you, leaning his weight into you just enough to rise slightly from his sitting position. You weren’t sure how conscious he really was for this. Was he aware of what was going on, of what you were doing? Or was his body going through the motions, barely registering his environment? You hoped it was the latter.
“I won’t look.” You promised. You looped your fingers into the wet waistband and pulled it down, before letting him sit back down on the toilet. With your eyes respectfully averted, you pulled the wet material off the rest of the way down his legs and off his feet. You quickly dried his legs off before grabbing the clean boxers you had set up on top of his sink, the only dry spot left in the bathroom. Through the use of touch, you were able to put his feet into them and pull them up just above his bent knees. His shorts followed until both items were pulled up as high as they would go in his sitting position.
“One more time.” You said. With him braced against you, you grabbed both waistbands and pulled his clothes on. A moment later, he was sitting back down, properly covered. You proceeded with your administrations now that the hard part was done. You dried his hair with the towel still on his head, and then dried his torso and arms using the towel on his shoulders. By the time you were helping him with his tee shirt, he was starting to show some cognizance, pushing his arms out through the holes himself once you got them into position.
Quickly you flushed the toilet he was sitting on, washing away the contents from earlier, and gathered the soiled clothes and towels from the floor before taking them to the laundry hamper in his room. It was still dark outside, and you wondered what time it was. 3:30am? 4? You had no way of knowing; you had left your phone in your room. With the situation no longer critical, your adrenaline finally started to drop. Exhaustion pulled at you, a heavy blanket threatening to smother you until you surrendered. You were so tired, that even Dabi’s bed looked inviting at this point.
You forced yourself to keep going.
You grabbed one of the water bottles from his nightstand, hoping that you could finally get him to drink something now that the vomiting was over and he was starting to gain awareness again.
When you came back to the bathroom, Dabi looked up at you as you entered, his eyes truly seeing you for the first time.
“You’re still here.” He slurred, his voice raspy.
“You noticed, huh?” you gave a small smirk, an attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere.
He was quiet for a moment and looked down, confusion on his face. “I told you to leave.”
“Yeah, well I was going to, but then you passed out on the bathroom floor.” You replied. “I couldn’t just leave you there.”
He didn’t respond. The fight in him was gone for the moment. He was placid now, almost childlike. You opened the water bottle and handed it to him, but he turned his head away.
“Please, Dabi…” you begged.
He looked back at the item in your hand and stared at it for a moment before finally taking it and taking a small sip. He grimaced painfully.
Of course; after all that vomiting he did earlier, his throat probably hurt like hell.
You pointed at his neck. “May I?” You hoped he understood.
He seemed to. He lowered the water bottle from his lips to allow you access to his throat, and gently you placed your hand over it, feeling the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed against your cool touch. Your quirk seeped into him like honey into a cake, coating his throat and washing the burning pain away.
He swallowed again, this time without flinching. His eyes stared at you, still hazy, but with the hint of something lively in them –a flicker of kindling. He took your hand from his neck and moved it down to his abdomen.
“Here.” He spoke.
You understood, but you hesitated. Would you be able to keep your quirk focused on just the nerves of his muscles? Or would it go deeper than that, impacting the nerves in his gut? That could have its own effects – he won’t feel the burning in his gut, but he also won’t feel hunger for a while, and may not feel that urge to vomit again even if his body needed to later.
“Just a little bit.” You replied.
You felt your quirk trickle into him, like water through cracks in concrete. Once your quirk felt the resistance of the deeper layers of muscle and tissue, you pulled your hand away. If you pushed any further, it’d be too much. He might feel some pain still, but it should be mitigated at least.
“Drink more now. Please.” You ordered.
He obliged, drinking the water in large, thirsty gulps for the first time that evening. Once he was done, he wiped his mouth and handed the empty water bottle to you. You set it on his sink next to the faucet, in case it needed to be refilled later on.
“Come on,” you said. You kneeled down and put his arm around your shoulder, helping him stand. “Let’s get you into bed.”
He didn’t respond; instead, he let you lead him out of the bathroom to the edge of his bed where he fell into it. You debated on whether or not you could leave him there and finally retreat to your room for much-needed rest, but you decided against it. The meds that were flowing in his system were going to start wearing off soon. He will be hungering for more, and you won’t be able to give it to him this time. If you left him alone here, he’d either somehow end up back in your room hunting for that hidden bottle, or he’d go out on the street to try to score whatever he could, no matter the consequences.
There was no choice. You had to stay. And when his pain became too much, you’d help out as best you could. Maybe you could mitigate the symptoms enough to last him until tomorrow evening. By then, you could start him back up on your pills.
You hoped you could handle it. You’d already used your quirk three times tonight - twice just now, and once earlier when you treated his burn in your room. Already, the environment seemed a little harsher to you. Light was brighter, noises louder… It wasn’t too terrible just yet, but all of your senses were heightened more than they were before. The damaged nerves on your back, always hidden by your shirt, itched irritably. It was still bearable – for now.
A sense of trepidation filled you. You’d gone so long without over-exerting your quirk… it had taken only one time to experience it, and you vowed to never let it happen again. Then again, you never expected to be single-handedly dealing with drug addiction and withdrawal for a man who takes enough opioids to take down an elephant.
You peaked at him in his bed where he lay curled up on his side. His eyes were closed for the moment, but you weren’t sure if he was asleep or not. Without disturbing him, you managed to steal a spare pillow from his bed. Then, with a heavy, resigned sigh, you laid down in front of his door, his pillow your only comfort. If he tried to leave, he’d have to go through you. The window was unguarded, but you weren’t too worried – you were three stories up. The building was an old hotel, so all fire escapes were located at the end of the hall, and he was in no condition to try to climb down the rusty drainpipes.
Despite the hardness of the floor and the coldness of the air, sleep claimed you within seconds, the scent of Dabi enveloping you.
As you slept, Dabi stirred restlessly in his bedsheets, his mind drifting between a vague wakefulness and dreams.
There was humming. Someone was singing. It soothed him.
He blinked.
You were talking to him, but he couldn’t make out the words. Something cool and wet passed across his forehead. Was this real?
He blinked.
Your face peered up at him, filled with a loving concern as your hand cupped his cheek, your thumb stroking across his stitches softly. Was THIS real?
He blinked.
He stared at himself, his scars gone, his hair a deep red. His blue eyes echoed his other self like an infinite row of mirrors.
He blinked.
He tried to speak, but pills kept falling from his mouth, choking his words. He couldn’t breathe. His other self stood before him, hands cupped and outstretched as the pills filled them and overflowed, scattering over the floor like a child’s marbles.
He blinked.
All he could see was a blue sky, but there were sounds. The sound of children’s laughter, the sound of a ball being kicked. The was a faint smell of dirt in the air. He was happy.
He blinked.
A woman sat near a window, bathed in sunlight with a white bundle cradled in her arms. Something about her was oddly familiar, yet he couldn’t place her. She sang. “My little Shouto. My sweet, little Shouto…” A baby cooed. Her face turned to him, but her features were hazy, hard to see through the dust that danced in the sunbeams. She reached out a long, slender hand. “Come here, Touya. Meet your little brother.”
He blinked.
He saw the woman again, standing at the end of a lake dock in a white dress, her hair billowing like a white flag of surrender. The lake was smooth as glass, a white mist ghosting over its glossy waters. He knew her.
Mother.
He tried to call to her, but his words were silent, falling from voiceless lips like birds with broken wings. She put one foot out over the water and fell silently, disappearing beneath the murky depths without a splash. A cold dread filled him. Frantically, he ran towards the water, but before he could dive in, the water on the lake erupted into orange, writhing flames. The wood beneath his feet crackled and charred, flames licking at his legs, his arms, his face. The dock broke and suddenly he was drowning, boiling water filling his lungs. Unseen hands grasped at his limbs, pulling him down, down, into the darkness, his flesh turning to ash beneath their touch.
Dabi woke with a shout, his eyes wide and filled with a wild fear. He felt restrained, his legs unable to move.
“Hold him down.” Said a familiar, gruff voice. The smell of cigarette smoke choked him. “I told you this would hurt, kid.”
Suddenly, your face came into view, hovering over him with your hands on his shoulders, shaking him. “Dabi. Dabi!” you called. You stared down at him with worry, dark circles under your bloodshot, tired eyes.
You were here.
The waking nightmare lifted and suddenly he was gasping for air like a deep-sea diver, heavy breaths filling his lungs as he broke through the surface into consciousness. “Y/N?” he said, his voice sounding strangely strangled to his ears. His eyes looked around frantically, taking in his room. A dark twilight was starting to emerge from the clouded, early morning sky outside, dark blue-grey contrasting with the yellow light seeping from the edges of his closed his bathroom door. The colors framed your face as you spoke to him
“Hey, it’s okay.” You said soothingly. “It was just a dream.”
His bedsheets were tangled around his bare legs like a snake. Dabi kicked them off and sat up in his bed with a wince. “I need some water.” An open water bottle appeared in front of him, which he gratefully took and drank.
“Are you okay?” you asked.
Dabi handed the bottle back to you without looking. “I’m fine.” He said gruffly; more so than he intended. But he wasn’t fine. Everything hurt. His head was pounding. His damaged nerves were starting to scream while his body felt as if it had been forced into a box that was too small, aching in places he never thought it could ache. Underneath it all, humming low like a wild animal growling a warning, sat an uneasiness - a dark, nervous energy - threatening to envelop him and wrap him up tightly in despair. Flashes of dreams – or were they memories? – threatened to drag him back down into the darkest parts of himself.
Dabi grappled for control, but he was losing.
You placed a concerned hand over his and he withdrew from your touch, the affection foreign to him. The heavy weight of shame sat deep in his gut as he took in your weary face. Somewhere, beneath the noisy din of his mind, a thought occurred to him: this was taking its toll on you too.
“Why are you still here?” he asked as he laid back onto his damp pillow, his arm over his eyes.
“Because you need me.” You replied.
He clenched his jaw. “No, I don’t.” The words were feeble and weak in his mouth, not an ounce of truth in them. You both knew it.
“I’m too tired to argue with you.” You stated as you rubbed at the bridge of your nose.
“Then go to bed.” He replied.
You wanted to growl in frustration, your own exhaustion making your fuse especially short. If he could just not fight you every step of the way, that’d be great.
“The last time I almost left, you fainted on the bathroom floor in a puddle of water while your body tried to combust itself. So no, I’m not leaving.”
Your tone allowed no more room for argument, your words forcing Dabi to sulk silently. He sat up from his reclined position, his long, scarred legs swinging over the side of the bed to plant firmly on the ground. His leg began to bounce and jitter, an attempt to relieve the irritated, unfocused energy that swirled inside of him like a cyclone. He felt like hell. He was a desert, his body and mind parched as the drugs in his system began to dry up. Even the slightest bit of movement set his nerves ablaze, pain coursing over his skin like a wildfire. He was tired… so fucking tired.
You reached across him, your proximity allowing him to smell the shampoo in your hair as your arm and shoulder pressed against him. For the briefest of moments, he felt something akin to peace break through his stormy mind like sunlight. It was short-lived though. Your closeness left as quickly as it had come, taking the sunshine with it.
“Hey…” you whispered next to him, a pack of crackers in your hand. You opened the packaging and handed him one. “Try to eat something.”
“I’m not hungry.” He replied.
“I don’t care. You need to eat.” You replied.
He didn’t have the strength to fight you. Begrudgingly, he took the cracker and nibbled on it. There was no pleasure in it, his jaw going through the motions like a machine as he chewed and swallowed.
You continued to talk to him, your voice soft, as you handed him another cracker. “You’re going into withdrawal again.” You stated.
“I know.”
“It might actually feel worse this time.”
“It does.”
Your face blurred as another wave of fiery pain washed over him, making him double over, the cracker crumbling like ashes in his fist. He gasped and panted against it, his body shaking from the stress.
You placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Let me help you.” You said. “Let me use my quirk.”
For the briefest of moments, Dabi’s pained expression lifted, and you could see the desperation in his eyes. “It won’t be enough.” He replied.
“Let me try.” You begged.
He stared at you. It was either this, or drugs.
He nodded.
You took his hand in yours and began to trace your fingers along his staples, your quirk seeping in. He inhaled a sharp breath. The pain dissipated where your touch landed. It soaked into his aching bones like heavy rainfall on a burning forest. There was a moment of clarity, the sensation so shocking that it distracted him from his suffering. Slowly you let your hands follow up the length of his arm, following his scars and leaving a humming numbness in its wake. Then, you took his other hand to continue the same treatment on the other side.
Dabi stared at his painless hand in vague fascination. It didn’t seem like it belonged to him. His vision blurred, memory replacing reality.
His hands were smaller now, the stitches gone. The skin was bubbled and blistered, and he could hear his own quiet sobs as hot tears rolled down his cheeks.
“Hey, sweetie.” A soft voice called. Pale, white, delicate hands wrapped around his own damaged ones.
He looked up to see his mother smiling at him. It was a sad smile, full of love, but never quite reaching her tired eyes.
“It hurts.” He sobbed.
“I know.” She soothed. “It’s okay.” A cool frost began to ghost over his damaged skin, soothing the burning, throbbing pain.
“Why does my quirk hurt me, mommy?” he heard himself ask.
“It’s my fault, honey.” She whispered, tears stinging her grey eyes.
“It’s not your fault.” Dabi whispered.
Your touch on his collarbone pulled him back to reality on a thin, white thread.
“What was that?” you asked, your fingers pausing in their work.
“What?” he replied, disoriented.
“You said ‘it’s not your fault.’” You replied with a confused look. “What’s not my fault?”
“Nothing.” He responded as he turned his head away from your prying gaze.
You didn’t pursue it. Dabi was grateful. Instead, he felt your cool touch return to his collarbone to trace along the muscles of his neck and shoulders. While your touch helped initially, the cloud of suffering followed close behind from the places you had yet to reach, a parade of aches and throbs blaring their horns against his brain. His body focused on the noise and continued to shiver and shake while he struggled to keep himself focused.
His face was next, so you cupped his cheek in your hand and gently returned his averted gaze to you. His blue eyes locked with yours, and you stared into them for a moment, captivated by their beauty, aching with their suffering. He didn’t deserve this. Any of this. You could only hope that what you were doing was enough, that it could make a difference.
Your fingers rushed and fumbled clumsily across the lower half of his face and beneath his eyes. You couldn’t quite explain why. Perhaps it felt too personal, even after all you two had been through so far. You barely touched his lower lip, the sensation of its roughness sending electric tingles up your fingertips. You desperately wanted to slow down, take your time, and cherish. But you couldn’t. Such exploration was far too intimate to happen here, now, under such heavy circumstances.
You paused for a moment in your administrations as sweat started to break across your brow. The light from the bathroom felt unusually bright to your eyes and you could feel a headache start to form. A shiver began to take you as your body became increasingly sensitive to the cool temperature of the room, each soft gust of air from the open window feeling like an icy blast. Even your hearing was more sensitive – you could hear Dabi’s heavy breaths as his body struggled; you could hear the early morning sounds of songbirds beginning to sing as the sky gradually lightened outside. The rumble of a car passing by on the street sounded like a freight train. All of your nerves were beginning to tingle, and you became increasingly aware of the texture of the clothing on your skin, the feel of Dabi’s staples beneath your hands. Most of all, the scarred nerves on your back were beginning their own little dance, sending small shoots of tingling pain up your spine.
It was already happening. The feedback from your quirk was starting to cross the threshold into painful overstimulation. It was happening far sooner than you had hoped. But then again, you’d already used your quirk three times within the past eight hours, and your body was already at its limits in other ways. Even quirks could be impacted by physical fatigue, dehydration, hunger… it was like trying to run a marathon on zero sleep and an empty stomach.
Dread settled into your empty gut, making a home there out of wild, thorny weeds. They tangled themselves in your limbs, slowing your movements as your mind began to race. Would you really be able to help him?
Your worried thoughts were interrupted by the sound of multiple ‘dings’ coming from Dabi’s phone that sat neglected on his nightstand, as a series of text messages came through. Each ding vibrated your inner ear at the loudness. A few minutes later, you heard the sound of bedroom doors opening and closing in the hallway. Your hands froze over Dabi’s skin as you waited and listened. Muffled voices vibrated on the other side of the thin walls, your sensitive ears picking up every word.
“Why the hell do Kurogiri and Shigaraki have us getting up so goddamn early?” Twice complained.
Spinner’s voice answered. “He said he’ll explain it to us downstairs. Something about our next mission, I guess. Something to do with the Yakuza.”
A loud yawn came from Toga. “Couldn’t it have waited?? I still need my beauty sleeeeeep….” She whined.
Magne’s voice soon followed. “You’re already beautiful, sweetie.”
“You’re the best, Magne…”
Their voices faded as they entered the old elevator at the end of the hall, it’s off-key ding marking the closing of the doors.
A heavy silence followed. You and Dabi were alone now, the entire floor empty. A confusing combination of relief and anxiety washed over you. The privacy was good, but then again, there was no one around to help if you really needed it.
You returned your gaze to Dabi who sat in silence while his withdrawal continued to wash over him. If your quirk had helped so far, you couldn’t really tell. His breaths were still labored and his vision unfocused as his body shook slightly. He sat there as if waiting. Waiting for you? Or was he still falling in his mind, waiting to crash hard across the sharp jagged rocks of his withdrawal before you could catch him?
He had more scars you needed to tend to… on his legs, his back, his left side just below his ribs, and over his hips, the dark tissue disappearing beneath his shorts. This wasn’t even counting the rest of the pain he felt everywhere else in his body simply from not having any drugs in his system. You were only able to do damage control on the parts that hurt the most. What if it wasn’t enough? It wasn’t a possibility you had considered before.
You swallowed, your mouth and throat dry. You had to try.
“Let’s take off your shirt.” You said. “It’ll make it easier for me to reach your other scars.”
He didn’t respond to you, his gaze unfocused.
Scars… scars….
The word echoed in his mind, and he followed it as it led him down an invisible road to another memory.
“Eww, look at his scars!” a kid said to his friend, his finger pointing.
The friend wrinkled in disgust. “Gross!”
“Dabi?” a voice called. He turned and saw his sister. His brow furrowed. Something wasn’t right. The name didn’t match the movement of her lips…
“Dabi??” your voice cut through, and the memory disappeared.
Dabi looked up at you, confused. “Hm?”
“Your shirt. We have to take it off.”
He silently lifted his shirt over his head, while you watched him with worry. It wasn’t hard for you to figure out what was happening. He was having long moments of non-responsiveness, getting repeatedly lost in his thoughts. You didn’t know much about him, but you could hazard a guess that this guy probably did not have a happy backstory. Villains never did. No doubt the lack of drugs in his system was bringing up that backstory for him right now. The concern, however, was that that was something that was completely outside of your scope. Physical pain was one thing. Mental pain was an entirely different beast. All you could hope for was that your physical treatments could help him enough that he could handle his mental issues by himself.
You took a moment to assess his body and how it was responding to your quirk. His leg no longer bounced, and the shivering was reduced. He showed no hesitation or pain when he removed his shirt. It was definitely doing something.
It gave you hope.
You kept going, your hands washing over wherever the scars presented themselves. Your relief continued to pour into him, but it was impaired now, impacted by your body’s need to limit itself. It was like holding your hand in increasingly hot water – at some point your body was going to recoil to protect you before you burned yourself. You were pushing yourself dangerously far, but you didn’t have a choice. If you stopped now, all of this would be for nothing.
As you struggled to treat every damaged part of him, your heightened senses became worse and worse. And the scar on your back… the one that you always kept covered, the one you never told anyone about because of what it represented… that hurt the most. It burned nearly as fresh as it had when you first got it, a hot searing pain, and panic started to seep into your mind.
You forced yourself to focus on the present, to keep yourself in control. Your hands were on his legs now. You counted the staples as your fingers passed over them.
One, two, three, four, five…
This was the reason you needed your meds. Everything else you could handle on your own. But the scar… the scar always hurt if you pushed too far, and the memories associated with it were never far behind. And this was the farthest you had pushed in a long time
Six, seven, eight, nine…
But you couldn’t take your pills. And you couldn’t cry. Dabi would see it, and there was no telling how he would respond. You silently clenched your jaw and hoped that he didn’t notice the sweat across your skin or the way your hands were shaking now.
Finally, your hands reached his feet, and you couldn’t deny your fingers rushed across the staples that marked the end of your journey. Your touches were done, your quirk spent. Your body was tensed now, each muscle tightened in an attempt to keep yourself together.
You looked back up at him and watched him intently, hopefully, forcing your eyes to focus on him and only him, as you tried to tune out the rest of the environment that was demanding your attention. His body no longer shook. But his eyes were still glazed over and his hands were still wrapped around his core. Was he still in pain? Or was he holding himself for comfort?
Although the battleground of Dabi’s body was more balanced now with your help, the war within himself was far from over. His muscles still ached where your hands had yet to reach, and his head still hurt almost to the point of sickness. But most importantly, while your touch soothed the physical, the mental was left unbarred. The demons of the flesh were replaced by demons of the past, as memory after suppressed memory crashed back into Dabi’s defenseless mind.
“Don’t stop.” He begged in a strained whisper. “I need more.”
Your eyes widened. You didn’t have any more. You gave everything you could and now you were hanging on by a thread.
You no longer had the will or strength to hold in your emotions. Tears slipped down your cheeks, wet roads marking your failure, your failure to subdue his suffering as you had promised.
“I can’t.” you sobbed.
He stared at you foggily, confused by the tears on your cheeks. Were you crying?
“Are you crying??” demanded a deep, angry voice.
Dabi squeezed his eyes shut against the sound, as memory mingled with reality. It sounded real.
Dabi knew he was hallucinating from the withdrawal. Years of dependency had the wires in his brain crisscrossed, and now they were misfiring as it tried to process the trauma he had neglected. Even so, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his father was here. He sensed his towering, overbearing presence, could feel the heat of the fire rolling off of his broad shoulders. He wasn’t ‘Dabi’ in that moment. He was ‘Touya,’ small and weak. He couldn’t suppress the fear that followed, crawling up his skin like a thousand ants. He wanted to run from it, but he couldn’t.
This was hell. He was in hell. He couldn’t make the voices stop, couldn’t make the memories disappear. He was cornered, with no way out.
Dabi craved surrender, to satisfy the addiction and let it wash over him. He wanted it drown his shame and agony, leaving nothing but that comforting, vengeful rage he was so used to. It was the only thing that worked, the only thing he believed in. If he could just get the right drugs, enough drugs, then all of this would go away. It was his only option. Earlier was just a mistake, his broken mind reasoned. He wouldn’t have thrown up those pills if he ate something, after all. This time… this time, he’d be okay. He ate those crackers, didn’t he?
Desperation fueled him, fear and exhaustion consumed him as he locked his eyes on you with intense purpose. “I need those pills. NOW.”
You shook your head vigorously as your words fell from your trembling lips. “I don’t have them.” More tears slipped down your cheeks.
“ARE YOU CRYING??”
A child sobbed.
“Get up. I SAID GET UP.”
Dabi’s blood went cold. He knew this memory. No, no, no…
Dabi leapt out of his bed, nearly knocking you over in the process.
His frantic eyes spotted your medical bag against the wall and before you could even get off the bed, he was dumping its contents all over the floor. Scissors, gauze, over-the-counter pain medicine, and a variety of other items rolled across the hard wood with a clatter. You winced. He threw the bag aside when he couldn’t find what he wanted.
“Where did you put it??” Dabi demanded. His world spun, but he managed to find the wall with his hand and used it to brace himself up.
“I can’t tell you that.” You replied as you stood up.
“So now you’re keeping them from me?” he seethed.
Now that he knew the drugs weren’t in the room, you knew he would try to leave. You made yourself stand up, stifling a cry with a bite of your tongue as your shirt rubbed against your back, to position yourself between him and the door. Fear coursed through you. Even though he was weakened from all that he’d gone through, you knew he could easily overpower you.
You put your hands out towards him cautiously. “We either deal with this now and be done with it, or we deal with it all over again later when the pills run out. You’ve already been through so much. Please, Dabi, don’t give up. You can fight this.”
“You’re pathetic. Weak, like your mother.”
He covered his ears, a futile attempt at blocking the voices from within.
He couldn’t. He couldn’t fight this. The pain was too much, the exhaustion too heavy, the emotions too raw. He needed the drugs. His survival depended on it. Without them, he would go insane. Hadn’t he suffered enough? He wanted to scream, to break things, to ignite his cremation and send everything to ash, including himself. But he didn’t. Perhaps it was the cowardice of dying, or the dissatisfaction of unfinished business, or even the simple fact that you were here with him. Instead, he tried to step around you, but you matched him move for move, blocking his exit. He was trapped.
“Get the fuck outta my way.” Dabi growled.
“No.” you said firmly, even as your body shook in fear and pain. Your eyes were trained on his hands. What if he decided to use his quirk? He wouldn’t… would he?
His face contorted in rage. Betrayal, his mind seethed. You cared more about protecting your precious stash than you did about him. How could you be so fucking selfish?
“You just want to keep the pills for yourself.” He spat.
His accusation shocked you. “W-what?”
“Admit it. You’re a fucking addict just like me. THAT’S WHY YOU WON’T LET ME HAVE ANY!”
“I’m not!” you protested. “Dabi, I’m trying to help you!”
“I’m sorry!” Touya begged. “Let me try again. I just wanna be like you! I wanna be a hero, too!”
“You’ll NEVER be like me! You’re a DISGRACE! A failed experiment!”
“No, no, NO!” Dabi shouted as he squeezed his eyes shut, his fists pounding his head. He opened his eyes, a wildness in them that terrified you. He grabbed at you then, his long fingers wrapping around your biceps with shocking force as he prepared to physically move you from his path. You cried out in pain, his touch like knives against your sensitive skin.
“Dabi, stop it, you’re hurting me!” you cried.
Your frantic words cut through his crazed mind. He stared at you, bewildered, taking in the terror in your eyes, the tears on your face. He saw his hands gripping you, your arms bent up in front of you defensively in fear.
In fear of him.
He let you go, stumbling back a step. He stared at his open palms in horror, his chest heaving. He’d grabbed you. Hurt you. It was his worst fear come to life. He really was like him.
His hands morphed before his eyes, the scars and staples vanishing, and suddenly they were bigger, rougher. They were his father’s hands. And as he looked up, he no longer saw you. Now, he saw his mother, her eyes holding the same fear yours did a moment ago, a fear he’d seen countless times as she tried to defend her children. Those eyes were now trained on him, and it felt as if his soul was being ripped to shreds.
“I-I’m sorry.” He stuttered. He needed her forgiveness. Did he even deserve such a thing? He fell to his knees with a choked sob. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He repeated.
You stared in shock as you watched him fall apart before you, rambling apologies and broken words falling from his lips. You whispered that it was alright, but he couldn’t hear you, too far lost in whatever nightmare he was stuck in. You knelt next to him and placed a gentle hand on his back, rubbing small circles in the space between his shoulders.
He could feel it… his mother’s touch, cool on his back and warm on his soul. He was falling and no longer knew where he was. He only knew that this touch between his shoulder blades was an anchor to a place he couldn’t reach, a place he longed for but never believed existed for him. It was an exoneration, made of mercy and love, sewing together his broken pieces with a golden thread. He wasn’t worthy of it. He cried.
Tears rolled down your cheeks as you bore witness to his agony, this unknown monster that haunted him as he sobbed, completely dismantled and unaware of your presence. There was nothing you could do, no way you could help him through this. All you could do was be here for him. You wouldn’t let him go through this alone
You wrapped your arms around his head as you buried your face into his black hair, your own tears running down into his dark strands. His body responded, lean, strong arms wrapping around your waist as he pressed himself against your stomach and suddenly the two of you were entwined, with him halfway in your lap, gripping you like a child would his mother as his body shook and his tears ran hot into your clothes.
With every inch of you on the brink, your body screamed at his iron-like grip around your waist. Even so, you twined your fingers into his thick hair, bracing the palms of your hands against his sweating skull. With one last surge, you drew what you could of your quirk, scraping the dredges of your ability, and pushed, deep into his brain where the pain still sat like a bullet in a wound that couldn’t heal. A choked sob escaped your lips as your body was pushed passed its threshold, your world exploding in color, sound, and pain. Dabi’s own sobs fell silent and his body went limp in your lap, his arms around your waist going slack. He was unconscious.
A deafening silence fell across the room, slowly replaced by the sounds of daily life from outside – the bustle of traffic, someone’s radio blaring, people laughing. It felt out of place in contrast to all that had transpired and clashed harshly with your ears. The sun was completely up now, the grey haze of morning burned away. It seeped past the cracks in the curtains, a beam of light streaking across the floor to kiss the face of the man now passed out in your lap. The brightness of the sunlight made you squint against it, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. You watched the tension in his face disappear, furrowed brows and wrinkled forehead smoothing over, his lips parting in a relaxed breath. It was the first time you’d ever seen him look so peaceful.
You watched as your tears fell on his pale cheek to slip down and catch onto a metal ring. Suddenly, you were doubled over him, sobbing violently into his shoulder. The rollercoaster of all that had happened crashed over you in unrelenting waves as your body screamed at the entire loudness of the world around you. As you cried, the broken man beneath you slept. There was no waking him now; his own exhaustion had claimed him once you hit his withdrawal at its source.
After what felt like ages, your sobbing subsided, and your tears dried up. Your body and soul were spent. They screamed for relief, for silence, for sleep. Slowly, you removed Dabi from your lap before finally staring at him, asleep on the floor. There was no way you could get him back into his bed, but you’d do what you could to make him comfortable. Even the slightest bit movement was agony, but you forced yourself forward with painstaking slowness. You managed to get the pillow you had borrowed under his head and draped his blanket over him before you grabbed a water bottle for yourself and downed its contents. You followed it up with a banana, although your stomach roiled slightly, the pain in your lower back bringing forth a wave of nausea that you fought with clenched teeth and deep breaths through the nose.
Every movement was stiff and calculated to try to mitigate your own suffering as you gathered the items Dabi had emptied across the floor earlier. When you finally left his room, it felt like entering another dimension, the hallway oddly quiet and peaceful.
On tired, aching feet you crossed the hallway to your room and entered. As soon as the door closed behind you, you dropped your bag and headed straight for the bathroom. As you passed your closet, you eyed the duffle bag stashed up high in your closet, your mind longingly thinking of its hidden contents. You did your best to ignore it. The idea of having to go through it all again because you couldn’t exercise self-control was enough to keep you from giving into temptation.
Instead, you pulled your over the counter pain relief pills from your medicine cabinet and took four of them; they might not work as well as what you were used to, but it was better than nothing. Your body screamed for sleep, but you knew that sleep would elude you as long as your senses were going haywire and your back burned.
So, you closed your bathroom door to plunge yourself into darkness and turned on your bathtub, adjusting the temperature to an equilibrium that matched with your own body. You undressed yourself, slowly, grateful to no longer feel the itchiness of the cotton on your skin while the soles of your bare feet complained about the cold hardness of your bathroom floor. Once the tub was full and the faucet turned off, you entered the water slowly and submerged yourself until only your mouth and nose were above water.
Immediately, a familiar, comfortable silence fell over you as the water entered your ears and muted your hearing, your closed eyes blocked out any remaining light that the bathroom door couldn’t eliminate, and the water caressed your skin in a gentle, numbing embrace.
This was what you needed – sensory deprivation. Or, at least the best you could do with your current situation. A heated pool was more ideal of course, but clearly not an option right now. You could feel the edges of the tub press on your skin where you couldn’t quite fit or where the water wasn’t quite deep enough to fully support you with its buoyancy. But still, it was far better than anything else you had at your disposal.
If it weren’t for the fear of water getting into your nose and lungs, you would have fallen asleep right there in an instant. Instead, you lingered, your mind filled with memories and thoughts of the gauntlet you had somehow managed to survive. You wondered if Dabi would remember all of it when he finally woke up, or if some of it would get lost or buried.
Will he be okay after you used your quirk on his mind? You hadn’t thought about it when you did it – your instinct took over, fueled by desperation and emotional turmoil at seeing him fall apart in front of you against his will. You’d never used your quirk like that before, and it scared you.
There was nothing you could do but wait. Wait and see what happened.
You left the bathtub once the water started to get cold and dressed yourself in your softest article of clothing before falling into bed. Your blackout curtains did their best to block out the daytime, but nothing could be done for the noise, the old windows made of thin glass. But fatigue pulled heavy, its weight stronger than your quirk’s feedback. Time lost its meaning as sleep finally found you, pulling you into its gentle arms while visions of Dabi filled your dreams. __________________________________________________________________
Part 7
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Taglist (always open!): @lemonfvck @vs-redemption @inanabsentia @sheedaabee @toshiuwuu @marydragneell @chillinwithmybakubros @genuinelytodorokisbitch @sam-i-am-1025 @redflannel @axerrri @necccomancy @miadraws0 @hot-pocket01 @hopelessdisasterr @dummythiccwitch @villainsdeku @aquzairus @officialtrashbusiness @hemdem018 @purplesweethart @doebopeepeebbod @ghost-of-todoroki @marvel-philosophy @lysawayne @udontneedtokno @citrussaurus @littleladdty @starsforannie @zunmie @mae-rd @mrsreina @ohh-takuuu @ih8beefnoodles @kellyyween @jojoniles @steale24
#dabi x reader#dabi x you#dabi#touch#dabi touch#soft dabi#angst#TW: drug abuse#TW: drug withdrawal#TW: withdrawal#TW: abuse#tw: mental health#TW: emotional breakdown#TW: mental breakdown#TW: sensory overstimulation (not the fun kind)#TW: sensory overload#dabi is not in a good place#Dabi is a todoroki#Dabi is Touya#Touya Todoroki
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Day 23: Dukeceit
I’m very aware it’s October. But I will get all these prompts done!
@tsshipmonth2020
Day 23 - At a certain age you switch bodies with your soulmate for 24 hours. (I may have changed this one slightly, too.)
Content warnings: kidnapping mention, food/coffee mentions, homophobia mentions (though none is really seen), just so much caffeine.
The first thing Janus noticed when he woke up was that this was wrong. Very, very wrong.
Which, to be fair, was an accurate reaction, seeing as he was in the wrong room.
His initial thought was that he’d been kidnapped, but no, that couldn’t be right. It was just another bedroom, not a basement or a van or whatever kidnappers used. It was a regular, teenage looking bedroom, with clothes littering the floor and the desk, large posters haphazardly stuck at every angle on the wall, and a phone charging on the nightstand next to him. So, definitely not a kidnapping.
When his mind finally cleared from his post-waking haze, he sighed in resignation. Apparently the universe had decided that today was the day he would switch bodies with his soulmate, on the day he had specifically set aside to study for a huge biology test that would make or break his grade in the class. Hopefully the school took pity on him and let him redo it. If they believed him, that is… he wasn’t exactly the most honest student.
Groaning, he threw the blankets off him and stumbled to the full body mirror on the door, inspecting the reflection. His soulmate was cute, he’d give him that, but it did nothing to disperse the internal confusion at seeing someone else looking back at him in the mirror. It also felt super weird to be attracted to… well, himself, at the moment, technically? He pushed a strand of white hair, dyed lighter than the rest of the black locks, out of his face and leaned forward, trying to decipher if the eye color was brown or murky green, when the door flew open and hit him in the face.
He yelped upon hitting the floor, rubbing his forehead, and glaring up at the intruder.
“Who the hell are you?” He hissed before he could stop himself, meeting the eyes of a very confused guy standing in the doorway. Blinking, he looked back into the mirror, and then back to the newcomer, wondering for a second if he was hallucinating. It took him far too long to remember the concept of twins, mentally facepalming as the other spoke.
“What do you mean, who the hell am I? Really, not one of your best pranks, Remus.”
“I’m not pranking you. I’m not Remus.”
The other merely blinked, staring at him blankly, until a look of realization crossed his face. “Oooohh! You’re his-”
“Yeah,” Janus snarked, getting back to his feet, “I am. Who are you?”
“Uhm, I’m Roman. Your- I mean, his brother. Remus’ brother. What’s your name?”
He brushed nonexistent dirt off his pajama top, an old and ripped oversized t-shirt, and responded, “Janus.”
“Janice? Huh,” Roman wrinkled his brow, casting a look behind him before stepping in and closing the door behind him, “I could have sworn Remus was gay.”
“I’m not a girl, you deflated airbag. I’m named after a Roman god, and I am very much male.”
Roman was at a loss for words, watching Janus approach Remus’ closet and look through it scrutinizingly. “He has good taste.”
“That’s what you call good taste?” The brother asked, peering over his shoulder at the chaos of ripped cloth and mesh and leather. He was frankly shocked there was any left in the closet, seeing as there was what appeared to be enough for a whole other wardrobe on the floor.
“I wouldn’t personally wear it. I’m more classy than that. But,” He picked out a weathered jean vest, adorned with pins and spikes, “Hot.”
Roman tried to hide his eye roll. “You’ll get along with him well. I came up to get you- er, Remus, but now you, I guess. For breakfast.”
Right on time, a woman’s voice carried up through the house, calling for them. Janus shrugged and followed Roman out the door, abandoning his discovery on a chair and pulling up the first hoodie from the floor. He didn’t generally like to wear oversized things, so he was surprised that the almost blanket-like garment was so comfortable.
“Ah, took you long enough. It’s getting cold.” Janus took in the downstairs area, a small kitchen and dining room in one, leading off into a living room. It was all comfortable, the sunshine raging through the picture window on the wall closest to the table, highlighting the steam rising off the food.
Janus stood at the bottom of the stairs as Roman took his seat opposite his parents, gesturing to the seat next to him.
“Remus, sweetie, everything okay?”
For a solid second, he forgot that he was supposed to be Remus and just stared blankly at the woman who had spoken.
“That’s not Remus. It’s his soulmate.” Roman said absently around a bite of food.
Their mother’s expression turned to delight, standing up immediately and engulfing Janus in a hug that he didn’t return, “Oh, welcome, darling! It’s so nice to meet you! Join us for breakfast, and you can go about contacting Remus later. Sound good?”
“I guess.” He didn’t seem to have a choice either way as he was ushered to sit next to Roman, his plate pushed a little closer to him by the mom. The dad was just taking him in, chewing slowly, and everything in Janus was yelling at him to look away. But Janus was never one to shy away from a stare off, so he kept eye contact, hoping that Remus had the same glare that his own face did. He must have, since the man finally looked back down to his plate.
“What’s your name, sweetie?” Jeez, did this woman always have to use pet names?
“Janus.” He responded simply, pulling in his first bite of food. It was good, he’d admit, but his own house never had these kinds of… family get-togethers, and to say he was uncomfortable was an understatement.
“Janice? Huh, must be weird being in a boy’s body, yeah?” Her face clearly conveyed that it was supposed to be a joke, or maybe some fucked up icebreaker, but he was more annoyed by his name.
“I’m actually-” He was cut off by a sharp kick to the shin, coughing slightly to stifle a curse, and turned to Roman expectantly. The glare out of the corner of his eyes was something Janus wasn’t anticipating, same with the almost imperceivable shake of his head. The message was clear. Forcing a small smile on his face, he turned back to the parents, who were still wholly focused on him. “Yeah, it’s weird for sure.”
Usually, lies slipped off his tongue with no hesitation. He had to learn to survive, growing up as he had. But this one felt wrong, and so utterly bizarre, that it seemed to burn the roof of his mouth. If that’s what it took though, and he was very sure that Roman’s cutting him off had been to prevent outing Remus, he could take that.
The rest of the meal was filled with small talk between him and the parents, in which he learned that he wasn’t all too far from his own house, where Remus would be waking up. Even so, he didn’t recognize the neighborhood he was in. It was definitely nicer than from where he lived, though, and he doubted that Remus would know where he was either. Poor guy.
As soon as it seemed socially accepted to leave the table, he did so, loading his dishes into the washer and dashing upstairs. It was only nine in the morning and he was exhausted, dropping onto the bed and noticing the little glow in the dark dinosaurs on the ceiling for the first time. Rather, the remains of glow in the dark dinosaurs. Remus must have taken scissors to them, separating the heads and attaching them to different bodies. He was specifically entranced by a T-Rex with a Pterodactyl head when Remus’ mother’s words flooded back into his mind, and he remembered that he should probably try to get into contact with Remus. One look at the phone on the nightstand, though, and he was getting up with a groan and padding down the hallway.
It wasn’t hard to distinguish Roman’s room from the other doors; it was the only one with his headshot taped to the front with a star under it, his name written in bold letters across it like a Hollywood star. Janus rolled his eyes and knocked on it, walking in at Roman’s call.
“Can I use your phone?”
“Why?” Roman gave him a hard side eye from where he was splayed across his bed, a script in his hands that he was most likely trying to memorize.
“I want to call Remus. And unless you know the password to his phone, I can’t get on it.”
“Ah. In full honesty, I don’t even want to know what the cretin has for a password.” With no further convincing, he handed Janus his unlocked phone and went back to scanning the papers, quietly muttering lines to himself while giving Janus the occasion glance.
He typed in his own number and held the phone to his ear.
“Hello?”
“It’s odd hearing my own voice through the phone,” were Janus’ first words to his soulmate. The voice on the other line, his voice, gasped.
“Oh shit! Ooooh shit! I would have called, but I couldn’t remember my own number!”
“That’s Remus for you.”
“Stop eavesdropping,” Janus snarled, taking a step away.
“If it’s loud enough to hear, is it really eavesdropping?”
Janus lowered the volume of the phone in response, flipping Roman off. “Hi, Remus, I presume.”
“I see you’ve met Roman. Pain in the ass, huh?”
“You could say that.”
“Okay, first things first. You’re hella hot.”
“I’m flattered.”
“Second, where am I?”
Janus chuckled, which sounded odd coming from vocal chords he wasn’t used to. “About twenty minutes away from your house. Did you want to meet somewhere to switch back?”
“Fuck yes. I want my teeth back.”
“Your-” Janus ran his tongue along his teeth, noticing for the first time that they felt different than what he was used to. The general shape, the curve, it was all new, and odd, and suddenly it was all he could think about. “Why the hell did you have to say that?”
Remus snickered, “Whoopsies.”
“How about Edison’s Bakery, on Westland? It’s pretty much in the middle.”
Roman gave him a thumbs up, mouthing ‘good choice’, at the same time as Remus almost squealed in glee. Apparently, he liked the place.
“I’ll take that as a yes. In half an hour?”
“Yessss.”
“Before you hang up, what’s your phone password?” He physically recoiled at the response, earning a snort from Roman. “I’m not typing that.”
“That’s the only way you’re getting into my phone.”
“Hold on, how did you get into mine?” Remus only chuckled, and the line went dead. Janus sighed and tossed Roman his phone back, hitting him squarely in the chest. “Not much of a conversationalist, is he?”
“Remus abides to the laws of social constructs about as well as he abides to the laws of nature. That is to say, not at all.”
“What should I wear? When I go to meet him?”
Roman looked taken aback. It made him scowl in embarrassment, rolling his eyes at the other’s face.
“I don’t know what Remus likes to wear, dumbass. Don’t get a big head.”
“Uh, the ripped grey jeans with the patch on the thigh and Green Day shirt are his favorite. He usually wears something meshy underneath, but-”
“I’m not wearing mesh.”
“Figured.”
Like all of Remus’ clothing, Janus learned very quickly, the Green Day shirt was also full of holes. Whether his closet had been raided by moths, or it was just his aesthetic, he didn’t know. He could see why mesh would go well under it, but there was no way he would stoop to that level, so he threw on the jean vest he’d first seen and went back to Roman’s room to get approved.
Deciding against seeing the parents again (Janus didn’t understand his instinctual hatred for them, but it was strong), he scaled the drainpipe outside Remus’ window and used his soulmate’s phone for directions to the cafe (despite the disgust he felt at typing in the password), since he still didn’t know the exact directions from this strange neighbourhood. After deciphering the bus map, he hopped on the next one to arrive, grateful that he’d found enough spare change in Remus’ horribly unorganized wallet for bus fare.
Surprisingly, he wasn’t nervous by the time he got to the cafe. He’d have thought his nerves would have eaten at him already, telling him to just turn around and live as Remus for the rest of his life, but they were surprisingly calm. There was just something about meeting a soulmate that didn’t mess with him. They were soulmates; they were kind of supposed to be perfect for each other. That’s the whole point.
It didn’t take long for him to spot himself in the almost empty bakery, propped up against the large window in a way he would never stand, tracing the patterns on the ceiling with his eyes. Janus sidled up to him- himself? The concept was enough to make his head spin- and, ignoring the slightly Inception-esque nausea of looking at his own body, smirked.
“You’re getting fingerprints all over the glass.”
Remus spun to him, grinning widely, and without further adieu, grabbed his hand. Janus’ vision tunneled before going completely black. A sound like an intense air rush overwhelmed him despite the fact that there was no wind, his ears popped almost painfully, and his mouth went completely dry, but when he opened his eyes again, he was staring back at Remus. Actually Remus. In his own body and everything.
“Oh, my teeth, how I missed you,” The taller crooned, making a show of running his tongue across the outside of his teeth.
“You’re odd.” Never before had Janus been so happy to hear his voice.
“That I am,” Remus said with too wide a grin, tilting his head to the counter. “I waited for you.”
“Glad you had the decency.”
“C’mon, Jay,” He tightened his grip on Janus’ hand, who was surprisingly okay with the nickname (despite having punched people for using it before), “I love their energy drinks.”
“Their what?” Janus had been going here since he was a little kid, and he knew for a fact they didn’t have energy drinks. The overtired barista heard him though, shooting him a look of pure disdain.
“That’s what he calls it. We like to call it the Abomination unto God. I don’t know how his heart doesn’t give out from it. One pump of every flavor, five shots of espresso, top it off with black coffee.”
“Is that legal?” Janus asked incredulously.
“Technically, I just ask for how many espresso shots they can fit in a cup. She was the one to limit it to five.”
“He asked a trainee on their first day working. They filled the whole cup with espresso.”
“I was vibrating.” Remus said dreamily, as if the memory was particularly fond. Despite Janus’ protests, Remus ordered his monstrosity of a drink, pouring at least three sugar packets into the cup to his rising horror, and sat down happily. It was almost enough to make him not want his coffee anymore, watching his soulmate take a long glug of the sludge in his cup.
“So, Janus,” He said when he finally put the half empty cup back onto the table, “How did you find my family?”
Somehow, Janus could sense the underlying question, taking a sip before responding. “They’re fine. Your parents rub me the wrong way, so to speak, and Roman’s a bit of a prick, but they’re fine.” He watched as Remus tossed his cup back again, fiddling with the sleeve on his cup, “I didn’t out you, by the way.”
That was enough to dampen the mood, Remus suddenly looking sullen as he stared at his hands. He blinked rapidly, taking a shaky breath before responding with a quiet thank you.
“They think I’m a girl. So that sucks.”
“They’re homophobic as shit.”
“I figured that out. Is Roman-”
“Gay as they come.”
Janus swirled his drink in his cup, watching the coffee stain the edges. “What will happen if they find out?”
“I don’t want to think about that. Getting disowned, at best.”
They both went silent, almost in solidarity. What could you say to that?
“Do you live alone?” Remus asked out of the blue, drinking more and having the audacity to chew the sugar from the bottom of the cup.
“My mom’s out of town for work right now.”
“Dad?”
“Never knew him.”
“Shit.”
“That about sums it up.” The two of them chuckled.
“So…” Remus started, finishing his concoction and throwing the cup into the garbage can by the sugar station, startling the barista. “We’re soulmates.”
“What led you to that conclusion?” He deadpanned, watching Remus as he took a slow sip of his coffee.
“Hardy har har.”
“Yes, we’re soulmates,” Janus agreed, “Must we make it complicated?”
“Eh,” The other said with a shrug, “Ride with the tide, see where it goes?”
“Works for me.” As Janus finished off the last of his coffee, he could see Remus’ hands had started to shake violently on the table, and could feel his leg bouncing up a storm underneath it.
“C’mon, get up,” Janus laughed, pulling Remus to his (somewhat unsteady) feet, “Let’s go to the park and get your energy out. Hopefully I can get you home before you crash.”
“Aww, you do care.” Remus cooed, laying his head on Janus’ shoulder as they left the shop.
“I believe that’s the point, dumbass. Now, I’ll race you to the park. Three, two, one, go!”
Remus took off at a full caffeine-induced sprint to the park just down the street as Janus continued his leisurely pace, laughing the further Remus got without realizing he wasn’t following. What had he gotten himself into?
Nothing he didn’t want, that was for sure.
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