#is it wrong i want him to lose it and fuck me up so badly?
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mostlyghostlyy · 7 months ago
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Imagine he did this to you but you laughed in his face.
"Give it your best shot, Dale. If it's anything like it usually is, it's gonna be over real quick"
He'd be so fucking pissed
I have an idea for you.
Imagine being an absolute bitch to Dale. Usually, he'll take it on the cheek and give you a smile. Trying to be extra nice to earn your affection back. But what if he's in a particularly bad mood and decides he doesn't want to take your shit today. I have no doubt that man can drop his act and go straight sadistic.
Imagine the interrogation scene, his voice tone change. Oh my God. And now he's being absolutely horrible to you. Giving you a taste of your own medicine while he pushes you to your knees and degrades you <3
OHHHH MY GODDDD...truly only you have the power to make an ask higher quality than the writing itself - thank you ma'am ill give it my all
It was just like all the other times. Well, it looked just like all the other times. Yet again, that little flame in your tongue was firing off daggers towards your sweetheart - and it seemed to be going well, too. He always seems to take it fine enough, despite the obvious repression of the gritting of his teeth, or the tenseness in his jaw. He's rather talented at biting back his temper, especially when it comes to you.
In fact, on most days, your bold claims would almost make him laugh. To him, its more like a chihuahua yipping up at him from the floor below (though admittedly you are more than capable of genuinely wounding him if you catch him at the right moment). But not this time. God knows what's got him set off, wether it was another run in with that sarcastic little shopkeep, or perhaps a disagreement with Ruth, he's definitely not in the mood for your games. However, here come the games nonetheless.
At first, it wouldn't even seem like it was effecting him at all. He'd come off to you as eerily calm - almost a full circle contrast against his usual erratic state. His stare pierces a hole into some random section of floor, pulse unnaturally high compared to its regular idle state. His fingers dig mercilessly into his knees as he listens to your speech, waiting patiently for you to toss him that one final blow. And he knows you will. He's more than aware that eventually, one of your snide remarks will send him over the limit.
However, when it finally does, he has no interest in expressing it to you with words. Even if he did, I doubt he'd find them in any kind of timely manner. Something tells me he's not too great at talking about his problems (no shit). Waiting patiently for you to finally whip your head the other direction and begin to storm off, only to stop you right then and there with an iron grip on your hair. His fingernails press deep into the flesh as soon as he makes contact, a low rasp resonating from his throat and cutting you off just as soon as you begin to protest. "Aww, you don't wanna play anymore?" He doesn't sound all that playful himself. No matter what you say, he's dragging you towards himself until he's got your back pressed in against his chest. One hand maintains its place on your scalp, whilst the other snakes around to grip firmly upon your jaw. His breath is just as shaky as your own has become as he bends down to meet your gaze side to side, mouth mere inches away from the small of your neck. "It's no fair if I don't get a turn too, you know."
I can't imagine it takes much to set him off, really. It'd only take the span of a few months to quickly uncover all those little things that really make him lose it. But when you do finally push those buttons in the order that makes him tick, it's a matter of minutes before he's returning the favor.
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ilovemylawyer · 6 months ago
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finally got around to watching tazza (2006) and it sparked an evilive related inquiry in my mind...
you know in ep3 how ohjae holds his mic in a lil funny upright style?
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well peep this gamblingrelated gangster's eerily similar pose in tazza (2006)
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so my question is: is ohjae's stance a reference to this? is it a coincidence? is it referencing something even older that i haven't gotten to yet? are these two going up against each other in a 1v1 rap battle?
#ilml#relatedly there was a character in this with the same nickname i had already given one of the OCs in my current wip...#which is actually pretty cool#i wish dongsoo actually gambled in evilive#well no i don't but i just want to see him lose everything in each and every possible way#he's better as a mastermind but god do i want to put him on the casino cruise ship for extended periods of time#unrelatedly. one of the guys that i work with (IRL AT MY IRL JOB) went on a cruise recently and he was telling me about it..#it was his first ever cruise and he had a blast and he's already planning to go again because he enjoyed it so much#what exactly did he enjoy? the casino on the ship... yup... yupppp......... thats right..... casino cruise ship reality..........#but seriously re: these micboys... no way its a coincidence... right?#and also also re: my current wip... wading through ~17k of unedited/incomplete slop of it right now#it WILL take me a LONG time to finish. but i have basically every beat planned out (LIE) so it won't be too HARD it'll just take forever...#i have MOST of it planned but with the way i write new things pop up as i go... so... yeah... who knows...#itll be so fucking long lol its gonna be a pain in the ass.#i wish so badly i could share with you my funny plans and awesome snippets but alas... you must wait...#and i must also wait...#its so hard writing alone T_T#everything i have written for the past 5 years i have had a sort of writing partner to help survive the painstaking passion of storytelling#but in the case of evilive i am ALL ALONE and i drive myself fucking CRAZY in my docs alllll alone oh goodness all alone...#its my fault tho i should chat more on here but MY FEAR OF BEING MISUNDERSTOOD.. it is strong.. overwhelming.. very difficult to overcome#ok that is all. do you think ohjae's pose is a tazza reference OR do you think i am WRONG?#bye bye i love you! see you later!
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peachycocaine · 2 months ago
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Bothering him
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Pairings: thanos x fem!reader
Summary: you bother your boyfriend while hes on the game and he punishes you for it
Tw: language, degrading, fingering, overstimulation (thats honestly it booooo shame shame) 18+ minors dni
You went over to your boyfriend's house thinking you guys could spend some quality time together but you were terribly wrong. The whole time, he didn't even give you an ounce of attention. He was too busy playing his little game with his little friends while cussing out whoever was in the opposing team, you were getting desperate now. What was the point of coming over if he wasn't even gonna take some time off his game for you? You wanted his attention, his touch. You laid on his bed, watching him furiously smash the controller while cussing into his headset mic. "Nam su you fucking dumbass, the fuck are you doing? Youre so fucking ass youre gonna make us lose" he screamed into his mic, his eyebrows furrowing as his jaw clenched. He was taking this far too serious, you hated how he could give the game undivided attention but not you.
After what felt like decades you decided that if he wasn't going to give you attention, you'll make him. You get off his bed and walk up behind him, hooking your arms around his shoulders from behind. You planted soft kisses on his neck, he just moved his headset away from one of his ears "what do you want, senõrita?" He mumbled hurriedly before setting his focus back on the game, you pouted at that. "Nothing.. i want you right now" you said with need, kissing along his jawline now. "I cant right now senõrita. You're distracting me" he said dismissively, you frowned as you removed your arms off him. "Fine then, be like that." You stomped away, plopping down onto his bed once more.
Thanos was quick to notice the change in your mood and sighed. "Alright man, i gotta go. Girlfriend's bein' a total brat." He said into his mic before taking his headset off and switching his Ps5 off. He got up and walked towards you, crawling into his bed beside you. You just rolled to your side, your back facing him. "Nah, go back to your game. In fact, why don't you just marry it, fuck it and have kids with it since youre so obsessed with it?" You spat out the words. He just scoffed behind you "yeah no, you don't get to do this shit right now. I got off for you and you're gonna be a brat about it?" He defensively responds as he rolls you until you're facing him again. You just glare at him without saying anything and he scoffs at you "y'know what? Since you want attention so badly, i'll give you some" he snapped before he grabbed you by the throat and crashed his lips into yours.
The kiss wasn't gentle at all, it was rough and bitter. Your teeth clashed against eachother as his tongue explored your mouth. His free hand went straight to the waistband of your shorts, pulling it down eagerly along with your panties. He collected some of your slick before shoving a finger in, making you groan. "Fucking look at you, youre soaking and i've barely even done anything" he chuckles before bringing up the finger and licking your slick off of it. He spits on his hand and brings it back down to your pussy, spreading his saliva all around your cunt. He shoves two fingers in this time, you gripped his shoulders as you bit your lip. He pumped his fingers in and out of your tight hole, watching you squirm and moan all because of his fingers. He speeds up his pace, roughly finger fucking you. You whimper and clench around his fingers in response, making him smirk. He removes his hand from your throat, using it to lift up your shirt. To his surprise, you weren't wearing a bra. He squished your tit before smacking it "you like getting treated like this don't you, slut?" he said in a raspy voice. You didn't answer, too lost in the pleasure to be able to form words. He loved the effect he had on you. He felt your walls spasm around his fingers and he knew you were close to your climax, before you got to cum he removed his fingers. Denying your orgasm, you whined. "Su bong!! What the fuck?" You said in between breaths.
"Brats don't get to cum." Cockiness evident in his tone, he had that stupid shit eating grin on and it pissed you off bad. You let out a groan "hows that even fair?" You pouted and he simply just laughed at you. "You wanted my attention and you got it didn't you? And i never said i was gonna let you cum so.." the casualness in his tone made you wanna slap him. You were starting to grow frustrated, your pussy ached with need to release. "I really need to cum su.." you said in a whiny tone. He looked down at you pitifully, giving you a mock pout. "Does this needy pussy need to cum? Hmm?" His tone taunting as his finger started circling your clit, making you moan. You nodded eagerly while looking at him with puppy eyes. "But you were being such a brat, do you really deserve to cum?" He enjoyed each and every moment of your struggle. You were so desperate and frustrated you swore you could cry right there. He slapped your pussy a few times, shlap, shlap, shlap noise coming out each time his hand came down to your pussy. Your body jolted with each slap. "If you really want to cum, then beg for it. Beg for me to let you cum." He said demandingly. You sighed "please su.. please allow me to cum i won't be a brat anymore i promise" you sounded so desperate it made him pity you.
"Fine then, i guess i'll let it slide this time." He said as he inserted a finger into you, slowly pumping it in and out. You sighed in relief, moaning when he added a second finger. And it was followed by a third. You winced at the stretch, you looked at him in shock. "N-no you can't.. i can't take 3 fingers.." you said in panic as you closed your legs around his hand. "Yes you can.. and you will." He said in a stern tone before forcing your legs back open. You looked up at him with glossy eyes as he started thrusting his fingers in and out of you in a brutal pace. It hurt, it hurt so much. "Hurts su.. it hurts.." you whimpered pathetically as tears threatened to escape. He just looked down at you and smirked "you better take what i give you, you cant be too greedy." He growled as he fastened his pace, he was practically destroying your poor pussy at this point. Your back arched and your chest heaved rapidly, you were on the brink again. You felt your climax build up and you squirted everywhere, his fingers kept moving in and out of you, drawing out your orgasm. Your body twitched and shook as you were coming down from your high. You almost came down from your high until he started moving his fingers on your pussy again, slowly rubbing your clit.
You whimpered and shot him a glare. The pleasure was almost too intense now as you were still sensitive from your previous orgasm. "I cant take more.. su.." you said, your tone strained. "Yes you can" he whispered into your ear as he began sinking his digits into your gaping pussy. You whined as all three of his fingers slid back in, he moved them in and out of you and your whole body shook. "Too much.. no more please" you looked at him with pleading eyes and he grinned sadistically. "Weren't you dying for my attention though? You suddenly don't want it anymore" his breath hot against your ear as you whined. He began pumping his fingers faster, curling them inside you making you scream out in pleasure. It was all too much, your poor cunny couldn't take the overwhelming pleasure. You were so sensitive that each touch made your body shake violently. You let out high pitched pornographic moans as your pussy clamped down on his fingers impossibly tight. "Gonna cum again hmm? Gonna coat my fingers in your dirty pussy juices again? Come on, cum all over my fingers like the little slut you are." His words tipped you over the edge and before you knew it, you cummed a second time, making a mess everywhere. He lets out a satisfied chuckle as he watched your body tremble uncontrollably. "Good girl." He praised you as he kissed your hair, pulling out his fingers before bringing them up to his mouth and licking them clean.
He peppered your face with kisses and brought you closer to him, resting your head against his chest as he kissed the top of your head. "Good job baby girl" he said in a sweet tone, your affectionate boyfriend su bong was back again. You snuggled up against him and pulled a blanket over you two, falling fast asleep in his arms.
The aftercare is shocking ik, i feel like thanos would NOT give you any aftercare but it's okay to be delusional sometimes. Also this is a bit rushed cuz i've been dying for ideas and i wasn't really interested in writing this. If you have any fluff, smut, angst ideas pls lmk thx :)
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sungiepark · 1 year ago
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MOANER, GROANER, OR WHIMPERER ?
what sounds do the seventeen members make in bed ?
NSFW CONTENT ! MDNI !
a/n: GUYS i am so sorry i haven't written in so long ╯︿╰ i lose motivation for things VERY easily. anywho,,, if anyone has any requests or anything feel free to send them in ! ( just be prepared for me to take my time to respond ϵ( ‘Θ’ )϶ )
MOANER:
jeonghan:
when i tell you this man has the PRETTIEST moans i mean it. borderline angelic. every noise that comes out of his mouth has you on the verge of orgasm LITERALLY. he's upstaging you i'm sorry !
joshua:
the things i would do to hear him moaning.... 28:50 of the youngji interview is EMBEDDED in my brain. def more on the quiet side, his moans are pretty low in volume, but he is for SURE right next to your ear cuz he knows how much his moans affect you.
jun:
pathetic moans. PATHETIC. loud, whiny, GUTTURAL moans. he also has no shame. and i mean that. does not care how loud he's being. he has to let you know how good you make him feel, who cares about who hears ? also def makes those ah- ah- ah- sounds before he cums
minghao:
hao's moans are like josh's, low in volume but close enough for you to hear. gives me the vibes of someone who doesn't make much noise in bed, he prefers to focus on your blabbering, but when his sounds grace your ears, it is HEAVENLY. ( his moans are borderline whimpers too just saying )
seungkwan:
DEEP. DEEP. SO DEEP. yk that one good to me performance where he said "make some noise" in his deep ass voice ? yeah, that's his tone in bed. moans coming straight from the chest LAWDDDDDD. was pretty shy at first when it came to making noise, but after seeing how badly it affected you ( because who wouldn't go insane hearing them ), he just goes AT IT. unless he's in sub mode and is borderline sobbing
GROANER:
seungcheol:
bro. words could not describe how hot this man sounds ( i would know we're actually married ). GUTTERAL groaning. genuinely sounds like he is working out >︿< lets out a groan every time he pulls out, followed by a whimper when he shoves his cock back in :/
wonwoo:
practically inaudible with how deep his groans are. all you would be able to hear is this deep grumble. rarely likes making sounds in bed as he prefers to be all ears for your moans, but hey, sometimes good sex makes a man whimper okay there's nothing wrong with that :3
vernon:
kinda like jun, in the aspect that his groans have a pathetic tilt to them. every sound he makes, no matter how hard he tries to keep them in, just ends up sounding absolutely RUINED. im talking you'd think he was crying from how desperate he sounds ( maybe he is who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )
chan:
he's right on the barrier between groans and gasps. OMLLLL HIS LITTLE GASP WHEN HE FIRST SLIPS IN !!!!!!!!!!! no shame either he wants to let the whole world know he's getting the best pussy of his LIFE. anime girl ~gah~ kinda noises IM SORRY
WHIMPERER:
jihoon:
dooooont care what you think. he WHIMPERS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! his whimpers are very low in volume however, he knows that if the guys ever found out the little noises he makes for you he would be a goner. tries his hardest to hold the whines back, much to your dismay, but at least then you get the gorgeous sight of him biting his lip till it bleeds (/▽\)
seokmin:
man does not care how embarrassing his sounds are he NEEDS you to know how good you feel. he is the EPITONE of whimpers. men be afraid to moan in their girls ear, but seokmin is sobbing out "f-fuck oh m- oh my god- 's good, 's good-" and other barely audible curses :3
mingyu:
his whimpers are WET sorrynotsorry. im saying he's borderline drooling. dumb puppy can't help it if your cunt feels so good :( sobs, cries, just the most desperate and shaky words tumbling from his mouth ( if he can still form words is a different story ).
ALL OF THE ABOVE:
soonyoung:
does not give a FUCK what noise he is making, he's just going for it. somehow sounds like whimpers, cries and growls all in one ?? also yes 80% of the time he is growling but are we suprised. just says any word that comes to his mind too. bro does nawt understand why people hold in their moans... if it feels good, it feels good you know ?
not proof-read ! lmk if there's any mistakes (づ ̄ 3 ̄)づ
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darkbluekies · 2 months ago
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King Edmund, Jerry & Hedwig drabbles: darling feeling insecure in appearance
Yandere!king x fem reader, yandere!mafia x reader, yandere!richgirl x reader
Warnings: mentions of not liking how one looks, Edmund not saying nice things about other women
Silas & Dr Kry version
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King Edmund:
You're the queen. You should be flawless, shouldn't you? Everyone wants Edmund, everyone wants to be in your position. Everyone's judging you, thinking that you're not worthy. The court gossip is always about you. Always your looks, your behaviour, your outfits. At some point, it's unavoidable.
You don't let anyone come into the bed chamber. You've barricated the door with an armchair, curled up in a corner to cry. Your dresses are ripped, your jewlery scattered all over the floor.
"This fucki—there we go", Edmund pants as he finally manages to force the door open. "What is going on in here? What have you done?"
The second he locates you and sees the tears on your cheeks, his face resets. Edmunnd runs over to your corner and sinks down in front of you. He takes your face in his hands.
"What's wrong?" he asks worriedly. "My jewel, what happened? Why are your dresses everywhere? And the diamonds?"
"I hate them", you sob through gritted teeth.
"The clothes? We can get new ones. Do you want new jewlery too?"
"Not those."
"Then what?"
"They ... they tell me I'm ugly."
His eyes narrow. "Who?"
"The ladies in court ..."
"Surely you don't listen to those hags?"
You break out into new sobs. Edmund stares at you, eyes full of fear. Fuck, you do. Not you. Not his darling. He holds your head in his hands, forcing you to look at him.
"I am King Edmund, right?" he asks. "Do you think I'd marry just anyone? Those bitches are idiots if they think I'd ever chose them. You, my beautiful girl, are all mine."
He holds you close to him, letting you cry.
"No one can even come close to you", he whispers. "i don't want you listening in on gossip, that's not what my girl does, right? My girl is perfect and doesn't listen to insecure bitches. Fuck, I love you so much, people like that rile me up."
He looks around at the room, at the ripped clothes.
"I will buy you a whole new wardrobe and new jewlery", he reassures you. "All the latest fashion from Paris. And you will show those sluts that you are the most beautiful girl in the entire world. They can shove their last year's fashion down their throats."
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Jerry:
If you ever show any type of dislike towards your appearance, Jerry will be the first one to let you know that you're wrong.
"Listen to me", she says and sits you down on the bed. "If I hear you say that you're ugy one more time — and I mean just one more time — I will lose it. Do you know many times I look at your photos on my phone when I'm not home and wonder how in fuck's whole world I managed to get you?"
You shake your head. Jerry wipes your tears and hugs you tightly.
"There's nothing in this world that I like", she says. "Everyone I ever loved is gone. You are all I have left and do you know how happy I am that it is you that i have left? There are billions of people in this world, and yet it is you. I couldn't have asked for anyone else. You literally turn me on more than you can imagine. I am so fucking attracted to you I am embarrassed, it's pathetic. I have to force myself to keep my hands off of you, otherwise you'd never leave this bed."
You sob out a chuckle and she smiles sadly. Your sobs make her heart ache. She doesn't have the words to formulate just how badly she loves you, how perfects she finds you. Jerry grabs your jaw in her hand.
"Get those thoughts out of your head now, okay?" she says, caressing your cheeks and kissing you. "I don't want to hear you say that about yourself. That makes me sad."
"I'm sorry, Jerry."
She lays down in bed and pulls you to her, letting you rest on her chest. Her acrylic nails scratch at your scalp.
"Do you want to know a secret?" she whispers in your ear.
"What?" you whisper back.
"You should hear how much I talk about you during my job. My boss is sick of hearing about you all the time ... and so are all the others. But they don't dare say anything to me, do you know why?"
"Why?"
"Because they see how happy you make me. They would protect you with their lives if they had to, just because of how important you are to me."
She wishes that you could see her the way she sees you, that way you would never doubt.
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Hedwig:
Hedwig have invited her childhood friends over, all from wealthy families, for dinner. Most of them are aspiring models, just like her. You felt misplaced. They're beautiful. Hedwig should be with one of them, not with you.
She notices that you're no longer downstairs and goes looking for you, eventually finding you in her bedroom.
"Why are you crying?" she asks quickly, closing the door behind her before running over to you. "What happened, sweetheart?"
You don't answer at first, feeling ashamed. Was it jealousy? Insecurity?
"Please talk to me", she begs softly, putting her hands in your lap.
"Your friends ..."
"Did they say something mean to you?"
"No, they're nice, it's just ..."
Her voice is as soft as could be. "What?"
"They're very pretty."
"So are you."
You shake your head and look down. "Not like them."
Hedwig's shoulders fall. She takes your hands and leans in towards your ear.
"I think you're prettier than them", she whispers and pulls back to meet your eyes. "You are everything I dreamt of. When I was a child and played with my barbies, I dreamt of having a relationship like Barbie and Ken, and do you know what? I got something much better. I could never have imagined, not in my wildest dreams."
"You're so pretty, I'm scared someone would take you ..."
"Trust me, no one can take me from you. They'll have to kill me to get me to leave you, and then I'll come back as a ghost to still be with you. I will never, ever have anyone else. You are everything I could ever want. You are so unbelievably pretty, I have to pinch myself sometime to remind myself that this is real."
She kisses your lips and rests your head on her shoulder.
"How about we don't go downstairs anymore tonight?" she asks. "Let's call it a night and just stay here?"
"But your guests-"
"They know where the kitchen is and they can entertain themselves. You are more important to me."
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luveline · 3 months ago
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this request may be a bit of a long shot, but would you be willing to write a drabble for mouth of september? maybe she gives the boys a scare either by going out and then not coming home at the time she said she would or maybe she faints from not having eaten enough? totally okay if you don’t want to or if you want to use this as a prompt for something else, mos has just been one of your fic series that i think about pretty consistently even two-ish years later.
anyway have a great day and hope you’re doing well jadey <3 love u
I love you! me writing this actually did feel like a longshot but not cos I didn’t love it and not cos I don’t love u, I hope you enjoy it!! been so long since I wrote this !!🩵 fem! 4k words
cw suicidal thoughts/suicidal ideation
It’s cold tonight. 
You blow on your fingers, feeling them warm, stiffness lanced for precious few seconds. You didn’t mean to walk so far from the house, not while the wind is racing like this. The corner shop just seemed to move around while you weren’t looking. You should’ve asked Sirius to go with you, he has a better sense of direction, even if he would’ve complained the whole time about the shit weather. 
Remus would’ve come and not complained, but he was sleeping at the time and waking him felt cruel. James would’ve come, racing around in Lily’s car, but then he would’ve followed you back into the house insisting on making you some supper or a cuppa or something, and what you’d wanted was to be alone. A bar of chocolate wouldn’t hurt either. 
Stupid travelling corner shop, you think to yourself. Stupid me for fucking losing it. Should’ve just stayed home. Can’t even walk to the shop. 
You take a deep breath. You give the streets a wretched, embarrassed glare and flop down onto the nearest bench. Fuck’s sake. Lost and freezing to death. 
If Sirius were here, if he heard what you were thinking, he’d frown at you with that dark pinch to his eyes and tell you to Stop it, now. 
He’s maybe half of the reason you’re out of the house tonight. Maybe all of it. It’s all complicated and horrible and everyone thinks it’s a bad idea but the thing is that Sirius himself isn’t complicated, he isn’t horrible. He’s kind to you in funny ways, and when you’re together Sirius makes you feel like you’re someone worth being kind too, which doesn’t happen often. 
Your self annoyance fades to something more familiar soon enough. Everything goes quiet, leaving you there with your heart, quick and slow beating, can’t seem to choose, and your cold feet. Your socks feel too tight. 
Your teeth start to chatter. You can’t sit here forever. 
(But wouldn’t it be better? If you stayed? Caught cold?) 
If you get poorly from the cold, you’ll feel miserable from the moment you wake up. You’ll be ill at work, which will make work worse. You’ll have to stay in your room so you don’t get one of the boys sick, and that really would ruin your week. Nothing means anything if you don’t get to see your best friends. 
You gather yourself up and turn toward the street you’d just walked down, determined to retrace your steps. 
In the distance, a familiar shape is jogging toward you. 
“Y/N?” James shouts, sounding as though all the breath in the world has been sucked from his lungs. He doesn’t stop jogging until he gets a few feet from you, where he bends to catch his breath. “Fucking hell!” His head snaps up. “Fuck, shortcake, are you alright?” 
You close the distance. “I’m fine.” 
“Are you?” He forces himself to stand, breathing hard as he grabs you by the wrist. “Are you okay? You scared me so badly.” 
You grab his arm back. “I’m really fine, I’m fine, what’s wrong?” 
“You’re what’s wrong, you aren’t home!” James swallows a lump. “You left a note, you’d be home by seven. It’s nearly ten. Remus rang me in a fit ‘cos he didn’t know where you’d gone, we thought–” James gives you an imploring look, though it’s so so sorry at the same time, you feel your stomach twist into a hard knot. “We thought you were having a bad night.” 
“James.” Embarrassment makes you soft-toned. “I’m really sorry I scared you, but I got lost, that’s all.” You don’t really like to lie, only James seems to need to hear it. “I’m glad you found me. I was worried I wouldn’t get home.” 
James gives a breathy laugh. “Oh, good.” 
You’re pulled into a hug. 
“Sorry,” you say. 
“No, it’s okay.” He rubs your back with force. It feels more for him than you, though you don’t exactly mind it. You can pretend as much as you want that you don’t like it when the boys give you affection, but they know it’s not true, and they know it’s alright to give it to you most days. “It’s fine. Everything’s fine as long as you’re fine.” 
“Fine,” you say. 
He pulls away. “Oh, god. Alright, let’s go back to the house. It’s freezing, you’re not wearing a proper coat?” 
“I didn’t plan on being out long.” 
“No?” 
He takes you by the shoulder to encourage you back the way you came. “Just wanted some chocolate,” you say. 
“I’ll get you some.” 
You both know it doesn’t add up. James doesn’t make you say much else, relieved you’re alright, and you fester in the guilt of worrying him so harshly. 
“Where are your glasses?” you ask. 
“I forgot them in the car.” 
“Where is the car?” 
“Remus thought you might’ve gone to the library, you were supposed to take that Sky-Fi back.” 
“Sci-fi.” 
“Right, the space books. He took it to see if you were walking home, I said I’d come this way, and Sirius…” James grimaces. “Not sure where he went. He was already out by the time I got to the house.” 
“How are we gonna find him?” 
“He’ll come back eventually.” 
You stick close to James’ side, dodging crisped up leaves and following him down the dropped kerb and finally onto a familiar road. “Guess I’ve lived here so long, I should’ve known the way,” you say. 
“It’s alright.” 
You bite your cheek for a second. “I’m really sorry, James, I– I didn’t– is it really ten?” 
“…Aren’t you cold?” he asks softly. 
“I didn’t think about it.” 
“I wish you would.” He pokes his tongue against his cheek. “I want to know if you’re having a bad night. It’s alright if you were. If you need more time, more help, it’s okay.” 
“It’s not like that… not all of it. I was walking to the shops, I swear. Just feel so,” —your voice slips into a colour of shame you despise— “weird sometimes. I’m sorry I made you worry. I don’t know why I keep doing this.” 
“Is this a common occurrence?” 
“Not the walk, just. Just this. Making you worry. I didn’t mean to make everybody worry.” 
“Well, I am worried. When you disappear for a couple more hours than you say you will, it’s scary.” James gives you a shrug. “I love you, I’m gonna wonder where you are.” 
“But–”
“I worry about Sirius when he goes to the pub until who knows when, worry about Lils when she does too many hours at work. I worry about Remus every day, his eyes are worse than mine ‘cos all he does is read,” he says with a laugh. “It’s fine.” 
“I worry about you too,” you say. 
“About what?” he asks, stricken. 
“Remus told me you can pop your knee out from your kneecap when you weight lift. I know you think it’s fun and stuff, but that’s scary.” 
“I’m getting fit!” He rolls his eyes. “Lily likes my abs.” 
“Well I liked you when you were soft.” 
James cackles at your poor fake-flirting. “I’ve never been soft, take that back! You know being captain made me solid as a rock.” 
“James?” a voice calls. 
You look up at the same time. Sirius is sitting on the wall in front of the house smoking; he takes a harsh, quick drag and stabs it out so hard that ash sullies his fingers as he stands. 
“Oh,” he says, blowing the smoke from his mouth quickly, his breath a ragged thing as he bounds across the road to hug you. “Sorry.”
You don’t get what he’s sorry for. “It’s okay.” 
He smells so strongly of smoke it’s like he’s blowing it under your nose, but he’s not so sharp to the touch. You falter at being touched kindly, feeling tension in his back as you curl an arm around him. 
Sirius digs his face into your neck. 
“Hey?” you ask quietly. 
He steps back suddenly, an accusing fist held between your two abdomens. “Where have you been?” he asks, and there’s the sharpness to match his smell, scowl turning his grey-blue eyes to pitch, lashes in a furious tangle. “You can’t do that. You can’t just disappear for hours.” 
“I’m sorry–”
“It’s not okay.”
“She said she’s sorry,” James interjects, “maybe let’s leave it?” 
“Being sorry doesn’t erase the last two hours of us panicking, though, does it?” 
“She got lost–”
“James, it’s okay, it’s–” You shake your head. “Maybe you should go inside to warm up? You’re not wearing a coat either.” 
“I was in a rush.” James gives Sirius a warning look. “I’ll make you a cup of tea. Five minutes and I’m coming back out.” 
James trudges up the garden path to the house. You twist your hands together, staring into Sirius’ face, wanting to see every bit of his anger, keeping tabs on all of it so as not to be surprised. You should’ve known he’d run out of patience with you eventually. He’s had to deal with your awful moods more than anyone else. 
“I’m sorry.” 
“Do you realise how scary it is to worry you’ve hurt yourself?” Sirius asks starkly. 
You flinch. “It doesn’t exactly feel great for me, either.” 
“That’s not what I’m saying.” Still, he softens. You feel like you’ve cheated. “I don’t understand. You got lost? How far away from the house were you?” 
“I don’t know, I was trying to go to Del’s.” 
“You’re not being honest with me, or any of us. It’s not fair. My heart is like a fucking racehorse,” he says, pressing his hand to his chest, fingertips smudgy with ash, “’cos all I’ve thought tonight is that you’d gone off and jumped off of a bridge or something. I know you wouldn’t.” He lets his hand fall. He quietens. It is almost apologetic, how he slows. “I know you wouldn’t. I knew you’d come home. But please don’t make me think about it.”
He’s gone pale in the cold, his hair in twists and tucked haphazard behind his ears. In his thick bomber jacket and his jeans, he could’ve just hopped of the bike, windswept as he is, but it’s the mark of worried hands having pushed his hair back repetitively rather than the weather, though the longer you stand there in the wind, the more tangled it becomes. “I dont get why you’re so determined to be alone,” he says. 
You don’t want to talk about it. When do you ever? More than ever, you’d like to stalk past him and slam your bedroom door, let him know you’re fine by yourself and seething, let him stay ignorant to you as you squirm in a bed you’ve come to hate. How often do you lay there wishing you could be alone forever? It’s not fair to anyone. It doesn’t make sense. They all love you and you feel sorry for them, ‘cos you tricked them, ‘cos you’re nothing worth thinking about for long. 
Sirius won’t stop frowning at you. It makes the drowning feeling worse. 
“I’m sorry,” you say again, hoping this time it’ll stick. “I don’t know what happened, I just wasn’t thinking. I don’t feel very well.” 
“I know.” He scoffs to himself. You relax at the hint of self-deprecation. “It’s not your fault. I’m fucking furious with you but I know you can’t help it.” 
“Sorry.” 
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry. For saying you’d jumped off a bridge, that’s horrible, but you really fucking worry me sometimes and I’m so relieved that you’re okay that it’s making me horrible.” 
“You’re not horrible.” 
“I’m mean.” 
“You’re not.”
“No, I am. You’re the only person who doesn’t see it. Or at least doesn’t say it.” Sirius rubs his face, scraping a stray hair from his nose. “Sorry for shouting. Here,” —he holds out his arm— “let’s have a proper one.” 
He hugs you nicely, no force to it, less lingering smoke. The scratch of his cheek catches yours, his hand at the bottom of your back, your jacket and shirt rising with every sweep of his touch. You press your closed eye to his hair. 
“Why didn’t you come and sit with me or– we could’ve talked. Could’ve just led in bed, doesn’t matter, I would’ve gone to the shop with you.” He squeezes you, pressing his nose to your shoulder. “I can be morbid. We can be two miserable layabouts together.” 
“I didn’t…” You cringe. “Sirius, it’s not on purpose, I swear. I didn’t do it to make you worry.” 
“I know that, Jesus.”
“Sorry.” 
“It’s fine. I’m just glad you’re home.” 
You pull apart as a car turns onto the street. That’ll be Remus. Another for your troupe of worry. 
“What do you think, is he mad at me too?” you ask. 
“Remus?” Sirius gives you another half hug. “‘Course not.” 
And true to form, Remus climbs out of the car with a fond smile. “Hey, where have you been?” His hair ruffles in the wind, scars turned palest purple in the cold. “You need to learn how to tell time.” 
You let him hug you. “Sorry.” 
“That’s alright, let’s go inside though. Have some tea. Did you eat much today?” 
You ignore the question. “Tea,” you say. 
“Yeah.” 
Remus ushers you down the path to the house, Sirius on your other side like bodyguards. 
“Thanks for, uh, looking for me.” 
Remus takes you by the forearm. “We’ll always look for you. But next time, wake me up first.” 
You nod gratefully. “Uh, okay. Thank you.” 
“Stop saying thanks. It’s alright, Y/N. It’s fine.” 
That’s what you’ve all said, but it doesn’t make it true. 
James goes home, though he doesn’t want to. “I can stay,” he says over the rim of his mug, half-pleading, wanting you to ask him to. “We can have a sleepover.” 
You insist that you’re really fine, he has work tomorrow, it’s late. When he doesn’t move, you say, “I feel bad enough that you were out looking for me in the cold.” 
Your voice is pathetic and scratchy and he can tell you’re going to cry, they all can, so he doesn’t push it anymore than that. He goes home, and you go to bed, and Remus follows you up a little bit later with a glass of juice and some thick, buttered slices of teacake. 
“You okay?” he asks, climbing into bed next to you where you’re laying down. 
“Fine.” 
“Didn’t eat much today?” 
“No.” 
“Have the juice, at least.” 
You take the glass. 
Between your sorry sips, Remus picks at one of the slices of cake, steals looks at you, though he doesn’t try to hide what he’s doing. 
“Sorry about today. Didn’t mean to worry you.” 
“You can stop saying sorry.” Remus lets his head tip from one side to another. “I can hear it in your voice that you don’t want to say it. Not that I don’t believe that you’re really, actually sorry. But you keep repeating it because you’re worried I want you to do that, and I don’t.” 
“It’s what I should say.” 
“Well, you’ve said it.” Remus turns to you, all bookish and rakish at once, lovely but tired, and he must be giving you a similar appraisal. “I wanted to be your friend the second I first talked to you. It wasn’t guilt.” He shakes his head. Wasn’t ’cos they’d played that prank on you with the shoe-eating goo, spied on you crying in a school hallway, overwhelmed. “I just liked you, and that was without any sort of knowledge of what you’re like. Now that I know you, I couldn’t be rid of you. Truly. I love you, you know that?” He smiles gently. “Even when you need time and you disappear. Please… don’t really go anywhere though, will you?” 
“I won’t.” You decided a long time ago that ending your life wasn’t in the cards. There are terrifying moments, numb ones, blink-and-it’s over ones, where you feel like it’s the only option you have. But it ends eventually, or it sinks into a background to be forgotten until the next time it aches. 
“Are you eating properly?” he asks. 
“Remus–” You shake your head as he brings a hand to your forehead, like he might stroke your hair. “You don’t have to do this.” 
“You don’t like answering, that’s all.” 
“No, I don’t.” 
“I’ve made you talk much more than you would’ve liked to, tonight.”
“I like talking to you. To all of you.” You rest your head on his thigh. “You really are my favourite people in the world, Remus. I wouldn’t… wouldn't give you up.” 
“Good,” he says, stroking your forehead just a few times. “‘Cos we can’t be without you.” 
Sirius finds you collapsing in on one another a little later and rounds the bed to lay on your other side. He doesn’t bother sitting as Remus did, pulling the blankets up and slipping in beside you without worrying about what parts of you are touching parts of him, nor the slip of your back where your shirt’s riding up, nor how warm it is under the quilt. He grabs the end of your t-shirt and pulls it flat over your stomach, before his hand spreads out there, and you realise half-heartedly that he’s hugging you from behind. The room is barely seeable. Remus is nearly sleeping. Your tea cake went uneaten, left stodgy and dark on the nightstand. 
“This okay?” Sirius asks. 
“Yeah.” 
He burrows nearer, rubbing his nose against the back of your neck, then taking a long breath of you. 
“Are you mad?” you ask. 
“Not anymore.” 
You can’t believe that any of them could love you so much as to look for you. That James would want to stay the night, and that he’d let you turn him away. If you had any energy left in you tonight you would’ve done the same to Remus, and then Sirius. James won’t be happy when he finds out they’d slept in the bed with you and left him out, but he’ll forgive it eventually. None of them should care so much about you, what’s special about you? What’s even really good? What’s worth it? 
Sirius breathes behind you. He doesn’t seem scared to touch you, not worried to lay as close to you as your bodies will allow. His heat sinks into you. 
“Know any poems?” he asks, letting you shift into his back as he pushes an arm beneath you, curling, really holding you to him, a spoon of a hug. 
“What kind did you want to hear?” 
Sirius doesn’t answer. You hold still as his hand begins looping over your stomach. 
“I can’t remember anything right.” 
“Can you guess at one for me?” he asks. 
You stare at Remus’ falling chest. You’re lucky to have good friends. 
“I read one a few days ago, a couple of times, it was only a few lines.” You wait. Sirius doesn’t say anything, so you start to relay the poem slowly, stringing the words together as they come. “The world was a… nautilus shell... And the world was a grain of sand.” Your voice is odd, but the lines come to you regardless. “The world was a honeycomb… And the world was a strip of tender bark.” 
Sirius lets his lips warm your neck, asking softly, more touch than sound, “That was the whole poem?” 
You take his hand where it’s against you. “That’s it.” 
He nods. 
The world was a nautilus shell. And the world was a grain of sand. The world was a honeycomb. And the world was a strip of tender bark. You run through the poem again, three times, tripping over strip and tender and bark as Sirius’ breath warms your nape. 
“Please don’t do that again,” he says. 
“I didn’t mean to–” You force yourself to stay still. “I would never do something like that to scare you.” 
“Nobody in this room or out of it believes that you went on your walk tonight to scare them.” His nose tips down your neck. His hand spreads wider over your stomach. It feels so weird, so warm and rigid. It’s the best touch you’ve ever been given, and it doesn’t matter because you’re so ashamed of yourself —you went on your stupid little walk with at least some bad intent, and your friends noticed because they love you when they shouldn’t bother. This is a stain now, something you’ll remember. “But I can’t take it. Do you get that? I can’t take it. James found you two hours ago and I still feel like I don’t know where you are.” 
“Didn’t mean to.” 
“I know, love.” He actually does kiss your neck then, quiet smack of a real kiss. “I know. I know.” His forehead presses to your shoulder as he settles in. “You’re okay. I’m not mad.” 
“Me neither,” Remus croaks. 
You let yourself relax enough to feel tired. Warmth from either side of you threatens to bowl you over. 
“How are you feeling now?” Sirius asks. 
“Fine.” Always fine. They deserve better honesty. “I didn’t want to hurt myself. Jus’… I needed to move, like, go, and I hate this part. I don’t think it should matter that I’m not– that I don’t feel well.” 
“Don’t get upset,” Sirius says quietly. 
“I’m not.” You sound tight. “When I want to be somewhere, it doesn’t make sense that it matters. In the moment, I don’t remember that you…” 
“Love you?” Sirius asks. 
“I know why you were worried, I promise. I don’t live in a bubble. I know I’m selfish.” 
“Not selfish.” 
“It was, though.” 
“You’re thinking about it like we have a problem with what you did, and it’s my fault because I got so mad, but it’s not really that you did it.” His hand curls shy of your breastbone. “I was mad, but– darling,” —you squeeze your eyes shut— “you’re not on trial. You don’t have to prove your way out of this, all we need to know is if you’re alright now.” 
“Not really.” 
Remus gives a half-sleeping mumble. 
Sirius sits up in bed to look at both of you. “We love you. We,” —he gestures between you and Remus emphatically— “aren’t going to stop. No matter how many walks you go on, how many scares you give me.” He frowns at you sympathetically. “We’re not getting any further, are we?” 
“Sorry.” 
“I’m sorry.” He grimaces, dark around the eyes. “I’m a right prick and I’ve made a right mess of everything.” 
“It’s okay,” you whisper, chancing a touch, terrified you’ll be reprimanded for it but knowing, as you know he loves you, that you’re allowed. The tips of your fingers touch his collarbone. Sharp thing. 
He pulls a jib, lips all up and thinned like a smirk gone wrong. “Love you.” 
You must’ve petrified him. He’s never so open with his feelings, even when it’s half-joking like this. 
“I love you, too.” 
He makes another face. Good enough, it says. 
“Make me hot chocolate?” you whisper. 
“Mm, come on.” He pulls you from the bed by your wrists. “Don’t complain when it’s gritty. I’m not skilled as Remus.” 
“Quite right,” Remus mumbles. 
You hug him quickly before you leave. 
416 notes · View notes
tojikai · 2 years ago
Text
Sundered 7: TIES
Pairing: Gojo x reader
• Part 1  |  Part 2   | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Alt. Ending
Genre: Angst
tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments, mentions of sexual assault
word count: 6.0k
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And he was happy. But never the happiest.
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Naomi couldn’t count how many calls she had made but the wetness in her cheeks is proof of how frustrated she already is. “Please, pick up.” She bit the inner side of her cheeks, tapping her feet on the tiled floor. Naomi regrets what she did. She regretted that she still proceeded despite knowing how wrong it was.
She warned herself not to be greedy at the beginning of their relationship. She remembered telling him they’d take it step by step, not rushing anything because they were determined to make it work. Now that she’s thinking about it, maybe he’s only determined because he wanted to forget about you so badly.
“Mom, please. He threw me out.” Naomi spoke on the phone, tapping her feet as she stood in the middle of her room with her things around her. She took all the things necessary and left. Satoru would probably put everything she left in the trash but that’s the least of her concern right now. She lost everything she had with Satoru and it’s all because of her stupidity.
“What did you expect? You sexually assaulted my son and you want me to help you?” The woman hissed at her. Naomi was naive; thinking that she’ll have her back just because she wanted her for Satoru. “If anything I could even get you arrested—” She began but Naomi was quick to defend herself.
“You’re part of this. Didn’t you basically tell me to use a child to keep your son?!” Tears of anger pooled in her eyes as her hands shook in fear, fury, and heartbreak. Naomi remembered when Satoru’s mom would free her schedule so she could spend time with him and Yui. She would suggest activities and let Naomi tag along and that’s how they started to fall for each other.
Or rather, that’s how she started to fall for him while he just wanted an escape.
“But I never told you to do that to my son! Naomi, do you really think someone would side with you on this?” Every corner of Naomi’s room felt like they were closing in on her, ready to squeeze her till she was nothing but dust. Of course, no one would be with her. No matter what Satoru’s mother told her, she still chose to follow it so the blame’s on her.
“For someone who finished school with flying colors, your mind is dull.” She chuckled, letting Naomi hear all she truly is. “You got a pretty face, you know? That’s another reason why you caught Satoru’s eyes easily.” At that point, Naomi didn’t know if it was still a compliment. She’s pretty and kind, and smart and perfect for him, like she said. But why can’t she have all of him?
“But I’m afraid that pretty face would be useless now. If I were you I’d go start over alone somewhere far.” She clicked her tongue, cutting Naomi’s thoughts off every time she tried to voice them out. “Like, imagine graduating only to get jailed over some dumb, desperate shit? Naomi, you screwed up. And that’s why you lost all chances with my son.”
Naomi shook her head, the warmness of her emotions dampened the smooth skin of her face. “No, you made me…” She breathed out, covering her mouth before running her fingers through her hair. “I didn’t want to do that…No.” She bawled and bawled but the line only went more and more silent.
She fucked up and she’s right. The shame and the loss of self-respect are not something she could live through in this city. She must go, she must leave. Like how they always did when she was a kid; fleeing the scene with her embarrassment of a family who can’t live without humiliating them. They have no decent source of living so they gotta strive.
Now, she’s doing all of it again, all while losing all of it. Again.
“Save yourself. I won’t let them know of your plan. After all, you were once of help to my child. I’m truly sorry.” With that, the call ended; with Naomi sitting on the floor as she put a balled hand over her throbbing chest, and the thought of going away to start as someone new settled in the middle of her head. Naomi learned a lot from all the troubles she went through.
This time, she learned that you could have someone's body but their heart could still be somewhere else.
—-------------------------------------------------
“What is it?” Satoru heard through the phone speaker. Taking a deep breath, he shut his eyes, letting relief flood his veins and calm his shaking flesh. “When are you free?” There was a long pause before Satoru’s father replied, “You know I can make time.” Clearing his throat, Satoru massaged his temples, thanking the heavens that his nightmares weren’t real.
“Let’s meet later if that’s alright.” He whispered, scared that his voice would break. Satoru knows that he is the only link between the relationship of his parents. Just like how his older brother would’ve been the connection his father was hoping to keep his first, real love close. Until they got tired of it all; the matters brought by his mother. And him.
Just like how she drained Satoru out. And right now he just wanted to run away from her too.
“Of course, just send me the exact time.” Satoru nodded as if his father could see him, “Are you alright?” He asked after a few seconds as if sensing the trouble from his son’s voice. “Yeah, much better now, at least.” Satoru rubbed his eyes as he shook his head, eyeing the negative results of the vaginal swab test. “Dad, Mom can’t know.”
He’s almost sure that the request would prompt questions from his father, knowing that he’s aware of how close he is to his Mom. But he was surprised when he simply agreed, murmuring an “Okay.” before letting his son end the call. Satoru pictured him on his office chair as he nodded away, brows furrowed with worry like he always is when it comes to family matters.
When Satoru was a child, his nanny would tell him that his father wasn’t always so workaholic when his ex-wife was still there, co-parenting with him. After she ran away and left, his father started to immerse himself in work more. He knows that he tried with his mother since they were already there and married. But it was just never the same.
His father was happy with them. But he could never be the happiest again.
Leaning back on the chair, he put a hand over his eyes and let his frustrations stream down his cheeks. He let out a shaky sigh, grabbing the papers before looking at them in a brighter light. It’s negative. Nothing happened. You woke him up just in time. He tapped on Naomi’s contact, quickly typing his last message before attaching a photo of the results.
‘I’m mailing the rest of your things tomorrow.’ It only took a minute for her to respond with an apology but Satoru doesn’t care anymore to read it. He blocked the number as soon as he made sure that she received and read the message. He doesn’t want to be anywhere near her.
He knows he is wrong for not telling her about his feelings as soon as he can. But that doesn’t equal what she did to him and what she almost got them into. Satoru checked the clock before sending the time to his father, hoping to end all of this mess before the mess ended him.
His mother has been calling him nonstop, and he always had to pretend that he was not home during the previous days. He stayed in watching movies with his little girl, sending you videos and pictures every now and then. He slept in her room during those days, a desperate attempt to calm his brain down. His head hurts from overthinking.
Putting the papers back into the envelope, Satoru took it with him to his room. He made sure to put it in his bedside drawer, just in case some other shit comes up. If this happened before, he’d probably think that Naomi is not that kind of person. But after what she did to him, all of the trust and admiration she has for her went to waste.
Changing into something more comfortable, Satoru tried to take a quick nap. He doesn’t want to look this tired when he meets his father. He’d probably convince him to get a general checkup just to make sure that nothing was wrong. Satoru knows that if it weren’t for him, his father wouldn’t ever put up with his mom. He’d probably spend his whole life searching for his ex-wife.
A few hours of nap felt like nothing because when Satoru woke up, he still felt tired. The only difference is his heartbeat doesn’t sound like it’s trying to come out of his chest anymore unlike when he was waiting for the results. A little progress is still progress; just like how he’s trying to make it all up to you.
If Satoru’s being honest, he’d fall down to his knees and beg you to take him back if you asked him to do it. The only thing stopping him is his brain telling him how happy you are right now and how he wouldn’t want to destroy that. He can’t force himself to stop thinking about you but he can force himself to move on if it’s for you.
Satoru leaned his elbows on the kitchen counter, reading a text from his father saying that he was on his way. Another text was from you; it was a picture of Yui holding up a coloring book and a crayon. He was just with her earlier but he misses her already. He wondered if he could visit when he doesn’t have other things to do even if it’s not his schedule yet.
Sending a response with a small smile on his face, Satoru heard the doorbell ring, signaling his father’s arrival. He peeked through the spaces of his window curtains to ensure that it was him before opening the door. Satoru’s still unsure of what he’ll say but he hopes that his father can give him a better solution.
Satoru thought that if he ever cut ties with his mother, it’d be for you and Yui’s safety. He didn’t think that it’d be for him too. “Dad,” He gave his father a hug as he stepped in, following his son as they walked to his house. “What’s going on?” He asked as soon as Satoru closed the door. They walked to the kitchen, settling on one of the barstools.
“It’s because of mom…” He began, placing a glass pitcher atop the counter.
—---------------------------------------
“Smile~ We’ll send this to Dada.” You cooed, pointing at the camera as you tried to take a picture of your daughter. At first, she didn’t want to do it, wanting nothing but to play with her book and crayons but when she heard that her Dad wanted to know about it, she got real creative with the pose. “You don’t listen to Mama, anymore.” You pouted at her as you hit send.
She scrunched her nose, sticking out her tongue at you before picking on her colors. You still can’t forget how dead Satoru looked when he dropped Yui off. You wondered what he talked about with his mother that caused him to be like that. Even with the soft tone of his voice, you could hear roughness that probably came from the lack of sleep.
If it concerns you, then you definitely have to know. His mother probably said something bad about you, but you doubt that it’s affecting Satoru by how he was talking and looking at you. He just looked so done with all of it, but even so, there was still a tender look in his eyes when they met yours.
You sighed while looking at your phone as you waited for a text from Toji. He’s been so busy with work lately, you’re just glad that you already talked about your problems. You had a feeling that it wouldn’t end well had it stayed unsaid for a couple more days. It wasn’t completely back to normal, but at least, you’re both trying to make it better for each other.
“I would try,” He whispered to your ear as he hugged you from behind, “I can’t promise not to think of her–“ You turned around, looking up at him with a solemn look in your eyes, “I’m not asking you to not think of her, that’d be selfish of me.” He nodded, kissing your forehead, “Alright, what I mean is, I won’t make any comparisons.” You hummed.
“I need you to stop worrying about Satoru and I.” You put your head on his chest, “I know it’s easier said than done, but I just want you to know that I am with you.” Your fingers traced figured on his skin, “I’m keeping that in mind.” He placed his cheek on top of your head, sighing deeply as he let go of you.
“I’m taking Megumi to my Mom’s.” He pushed your hair back with his fingers, making your eyes flutter close as you felt his face get closer to yours and his breath ghosting on your lips. “I’ll see you later.” He pecked your lips, “Take care, I love you.” He murmured as he gave you a long kiss, before turning to get their stuff.
One thing that you notice about Toji is that he never waits for you to say anything back. You don’t want to take the words lightly, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t feel the same way as him. You still have a long way to go, and you don’t want to rush anything. When you mention it to him, he just says that he needs you to hear it.
“Mama, look!” Your daughter pulled you out of your head as she showed you a picture of a cat, “Dada buy Yui.” You looked closely at the picture, laughing as you realized that she was talking about the cake that they ate. “Yeah, you're right! That's what Dada bought you!.” You patted her head as she giggled.
“Yui, baby. Did meemaw come to see you?” You held her small hands, trying to keep her attention to you. “No. No meemaw.” She pulled at your hair gently, trying to color it with her crayons. “What about…what about Naomi?” You can’t help but chuckle as she pretended to think, eyes looking up as she pouted her lip.
“No Naomi!” Her answer gave you a bit of an insight. You would assume that maybe she was just busy, but hearing about how Satoru’s mother reduced her workload made you doubt it. Satoru sent you tons of pictures during his time with her but you thought that Naomi just wasn’t in the frame.
If the ‘talk’ between her and Satoru didn’t end well, you could only assume that he already told her about it. He’s probably down because he wouldn’t want to hurt her like that. With all the progress Satoru has made, you doubt that he’d be so happy to have broken a heart. She was still once a friend to him.
A heavy feeling settles in the middle of your chest, like an anchor weighing your heart down, thinking about how his mother would probably find a reason to drag you for it. But if that’s the case, you’re sure that Satoru wouldn’t let harm come to you.
With how gentle Naomi was, you couldn’t think of a worse thing to happen.
——————————————
“What did she do this time?” His father looked away, clicking his tongue. If one would ask Satoru, his parents would’ve probably divorced years ago if it weren’t for him. His father knows how he is with his mother, and the thought of giving him a hard time switching between the two of them pained him.
Satoru wished that he thought about it too before he decided to go and selfishly start over with someone else. Your words the night he confessed to you echoed in his head. He came to a realization that you probably wanted to ask him to come back but held yourself back as he let you know how happy he was with Naomi.
And he was happy. But just like his father, he was never the happiest.
“I don’t really know how to open this up to you…” He bit his lip, “…But I just want this to be over, Dad.” Satoru felt so vulnerable at that moment. The only time he had a talk this serious with his Dad was when he found out about your pregnancy. It was just more of a news, unlike right now, which is a call for help.
“Naomi…Mom and Naomi talked about…” His father’s eyes coaxed him as if sensing his distress. “Naomi tried to…” Shaking his head, Satoru breathed out. “Naomi wanted to conceive. Because our relationship was falling apart.” He can see his Dad’s brows pull together to a scowl, probably getting a hint of what happened.
“She talked to Mom about it and she…” The man sat up straight, bouncing his leg like he already knew what his wife did. “She said Mom brought up the thing about how you and him got together.”It was hard to talk about this to his father, knowing how sensitive it can be for him. “Naomi told me about it. I recorded it, just in case—”
“Satoru, what did your girlfriend do?” Satoru looked down, fingers fidgeting like he was a kid again. “And your mother’s involved? What happened?” Rubbing his face, Satoru threw away all his fears. If he’s not going to fix these problems, then who will? “She got me drunk, and then she tried to sleep with me.” He blinked fast, watching his father’s face.
“I heard her talking to Mom on the phone, and I took it from her. That’s how I found out that she played a part in all of it.” It was hard for him to accept. The person he used to protect, the one he always tried to understand was the same person who betrayed and put him in this position; the position that also made his father the person he is today.
Another long silence surrounded them. His father’s hand was balled into a fist, covering his mouth as he blankly stared at the marble surface. “Where’s Naomi?” His father pulled out his phone, and Satoru could tell just what he was about to do. “I don’t know. I’m sending her things away. I’m cutting her off. I’m filing a protective order against her and mom–“
Satoru didn’t get to finish his sentence before his father spoke again, probably finally taking in the information he just provided him. “I’m divorcing your mother.” His mouth fell half-open. His voice was low, serious, and full of all the grief that he’s been feeling for years ever since he lost his first wife and son. “And I’m sending that woman to jail.” He added, raising a finger.
“There’s…I don’t want that.” He breathed out, earning a questioning look from his dad. “You don’t have to send her to jail. I…I messed up if I just told her that I still have feelings for Y/N, then she wouldn’t have resorted to that. She wouldn’t have talked to Mom and this wouldn’t have happened.” He stood up, leaning on the counter as he squeezed his eyes shut.
Satoru thought about it too when he caught her in the act. But after some reflection, he realized his shortcomings, his mistake of not just telling her about what was really going on. Even though there was no excuse for what she did, Satoru can’t help but feel like he’s the one who caused all of this to happen. And he probably really is; a victim of his foolish choices.
“But other than that, I don’t want Y/N and Yui to be caught up in this. I don’t want to expose them to this kind of problem, they’ve been through so much because of me already. I just want to do better this time.” Thinking about dragging you into another mess made Satoru feel weak. He promised to make it up to you, and he’d do anything to prove that.
His father put his phone down on the table, taking in a deep breath just to calm himself. “But you’re not stopping me from divorcing your mother.” Satoru doesn’t know if it’s right to agree to that. It felt like he was encouraging the separation of his parents; celebrating his mother’s heartbreak.
But his father’s been suffering heartbreak for years. It’s only fair to set him free.
“It’s up to you. I…” Satoru shook his head, sure of the decision he was about to make. “...I don’t think I can just forgive and forget what she did. It’s not something small, and I’m not a kid anymore, Dad.” His eyes itched, ready to let his tears go any minute. “I don’t even know if I still want to be associated with her.” He turned away, sighing as he blinked away his pain.
When he and Naomi went for the examination, he made her spill all the details regarding the said conversation with his mother. It took everything in him not to fly into a rage while breaking down as he heard of it. All this time, his mother saw him as a pawn to keep his father, regardless of whose life she was tearing down; Satoru’s, his father's ex-wife, and his first son.
“I wanted to take you away when you were a kid.” His father admitted, looking ahead as he reminisced of the decisions he made. “I wanted to just take you and raise you with your brother. Of course, with the hopes of getting my ex-wife back.” He leaned back, tapping on the screen of his phone. The bitter tone in his voice can’t be missed.
“That was my plan when I found out about you. But when you were about a year and a half old, she disappeared. All I knew was she was…tired; drained of all the chaos that our son and her were exposed to. What with having to co-parent with me as I was with your mother.” His eyes played the emotions he chose to hide away many years ago.
“I know you know about this. She and I got divorced. I thought it was over for us, I thought I made the right decision to turn away and try another start. And I was dating your mother. Then we had you.” His arms were crossed and Satoru could almost see the similarities between his feelings to how he used to feel about yours and his relationship.
“Then, realization came running for me; haunting me in my sleep. I was ready to get her back again, but it was too late. She was already gone.” Satoru absently poured water for his Dad, listening intently to his story. “So, I felt like the only thing to do was to marry your Mom. I reminded myself that still have you, I can’t just spiral down.” He smiled at Satoru.
“I tried to convince, tried to brainwash myself that it’d be fine. That I could learn to love her and I did. Just not the kind of love that lovers have.” If his mother could hear his Dad right now, she’d get shattered. Satoru doesn’t want to see that, but she would have to. She has to understand that she’s putting this man through.
“I loved her because she loves me; because she cares for you and me.” Leaning over to pick up his glass, he looked his son in the eyes. “But true love is unconditional, Satoru. It should not have a reason.” He took a sip, pursing his lips before continuing. “Reasons might vanish, and when it does, so will the love you feel for that person.”
In the middle of it all, Satoru could only think of you. Why does he love you? When did he realize that he loves you? How did it happen? He doesn’t have an answer for it. He cannot find a reason for it. He doesn’t remember loving you just because you put up with him, he doesn’t remember falling for you just because of the life you created together.
All that he knows is that one day, he woke up and he already knew that he was in love with you. Like he’s been doing it for years; like that’s all he’s ever known.
—-------------------------------------------------
“I’ll keep in contact with you regarding the proceedings.” Satoru’s father spoke on the phone, stepping inside his mansion and smiling at his helpers. He asked Satoru if he wanted to have a word with his mother but the thought of having to look at her after what she tried to make his ex-girlfriend do makes him feel dizzy.
“Honey, you’re home.” The woman tried to welcome him with a kiss and open arms but he quickly turned his head, rejecting her. “Come up to my office, we got something to talk about.” The mask of a loving wife was quickly covered with fear and dread.
“What about in our room? So, you can rest.” She nodded her head once, trying to coax him but he was tired of closing his eyes and numbing his heart from feeling the pain and regret of having to lose the love of his life for the comfort that this woman offered him before. “In my office. It’s not a small matter that I could sleep on.”
Leaving the woman baffled, he made his way upstairs, not waiting for her to walk beside him. There was a deafening silence in the big room, save from the footsteps of her husband and the door of his office slamming with such force that it sent a crack in her heart.
She took a deep breath and ran her palm on top of her dress, thinking of all the reasons she could give him just to prove her innocence. She didn’t want any of that to happen. She didn't think that Naomi could be so dumb as to come up with such a heinous and unpleasant plan.
That wasn’t even what she did to Satoru’s father. It was just working to keep them together. And that’s why Satoru came.
With her found determination, she held her head high. Swallowing the terror rising up her throat as she let her thoughts convince her that she did nothing wrong. She never explicitly told Naomi to do that, she’s the one who schemed that. There’s nothing to be afraid of.
She walked up the stairs, caressing the smooth, cold surface of the handrail. Satoru wouldn't allow anything to happen to her. He’s her boy, her pride and joy. He’s the only ally she had when his father was openly pushing her away.
Satoru wouldn’t just ruin what she and his father had because of baseless information from his sick girlfriend. Entering the office, the man sat on his swivel chair. Forehead pressed to the heel of his hand. “What is it, dear?” She smiled sweetly at her husband, appearing unaware of what he had in mind.
Oh, how she wished she was just unaware of it all. She wished that she didn't know what the problem was. She wished it wasn’t what she thought it was and that she was just overthinking because of how– “I want a divorce.” Those four words halted the spinning of her world.
“What?” She raised her brows, checking if it was just her mind playing tricks on her and making her hallucinate. “I want a divorce. And I want it as soon as possible.” His eyes no longer held any emotions towards her; no sadness, bitterness, fading love. None. Not even pity.
“Listen, honey, I didn’t think that Naomi would do–“ She took quick steps towards him, hoping to get him to listen. “So, you knew about it?” He glared at her, “You knew about it and you didn’t tell me anything?” He shook his head, and she could only open her mouth.
“Doesn’t matter. Satoru told me everything.” He stood up from his seat, towering over her as he stared her down. “It’s nothing like that–“ She breathed out, panicking. “I’m not really interested in what you told Naomi. I’m just thankful that my son’s safe.” He stepped away from her.
“What I want to do right now, is to be free from this.” It’s over for her. All the alibis that she was composing, thinking of for this moment are useless. He doesn’t need an explanation, this was simply the final push that he needed to kick her out of his life. And probably out of Satoru’s too.
“Please, don’t do this. We’re already too old to–“ She tried to grab his hand and he only grabbed it with the other to put it away. “You’re right. We’re too old, our son’s too old for me to still pretend that we want to be in this position.” Shaking her head, she stepped in front of him, blocking his way. “Please, listen. I wouldn’t do something that could harm–“
“I know,” His voice was calm. “Of course, to harm him wasn’t your intention, right?” She nodded eagerly, thinking that he was finally listening to her. “But you wanted to decide for him. You got in between him and Y/N, then pushed this woman on him because you thought you knew best for your son.” Tears fell down her eyes, and she lost all hope.
“Now, look at what you did to him.” He gritted his teeth, stepping forward to get her out of his way. “But this is not just about our son anymore. This is also about me, finally choosing to do what I should’ve done a long time ago.” Opening the door, he spoke to her one last time. “All you have to do is sign. The actions that your son will take is all up to him.”
With that, he left her with all of the nightmares of their past coming back. How he only wanted the best for his sons, how he wanted to take full custody of Satoru, how he wanted to get back together with his ex-wife, and how he only married her because she was gone. She was never the first option. She was never the original pick.
She wasn’t chosen, she just happened to be already there.
—————————————
“Hey,” You heard Satoru speak as Toji opened the door for him, nodding. This was kind of similar to how they first saw each other but you’re just glad that this time, it’s a lot calmer. Megumi ran to his father, peeking up at Satoru as he waved at him.
“Yui, your Dada’s here.” Toji left the door open to let Satoru in. Megumi was holding onto his pants, staring back at Satoru. “Yui Dada,” He picked his toy up, staring at a distance before walking closer to him. “Blue!” You laughed from the kitchen, as you packed some snacks for the little girl.
Today, you’re going to the zoo as Yui requested. The animal drawings from her coloring book got her asking you to call her Dada late at night, just to babble about it. “He’s referring to your eyes,” Toji spoke as he went back to the living room to pick up some of the toys.
“Megumi, it’s not good to point at people, what did I tell you?” He warned the toddler as he went back to your room, eyes meeting yours as you made your way to Yui's room. “Ah, yes. Yui and I have the same eyes.” Satoru smiled at the child.
“Dada!” Yui ran towards him, stomping her shoes extra hard to show him how they light up with dancing colors. “Woah! Did Mama buy you those shoes?” He opened his arms, urging the little girl to run to him and she happily did, giggling as she nodded. “It’s awesome!” You smiled at how he tried to flatter his child, encouraging her to do a little jump.
“Where are we going today?” You asked her in a playful tone as you put the lunch bags on the coffee table in front of them. “Zoo!” You watched a Satoru give her a sincere smile, patting her hair gently while complimenting her little butterfly clips. “I’m sure Megumi’s been to the zoo before.” He poked the little boy's tummy.
“Yeah. Animals. Bears and lions.” He stood behind you, peeking at Satoru as he talked. Megumi isn’t usually shy, but he doesn’t easily warm up to people. “We went there on his second birthday.” You almost jumped at Toji’s voice behind you as he picked up his child. “He’s a smart kid.” Satoru answered with a friendly smile.
“You guys should come. If you want..” It surprised you that he was initiating something like that. Although, you know that Toji wouldn’t be so comfortable with that and would most likely reject the offer, it’s still nice to see that Satoru’s trying to make an effort to get along with him.
“That’d be nice but his grandma's waiting for him,” Toji answered, chuckling awkwardly. “Dada work,” Megumi added, earning a hum from his Dad. Making sure that the bag is packed with everything Yui needs, you zipped it up. “You ready to go now?” You tapped the toddler’s cheek, feeling Satoru’s gaze at you.
“Alright, let’s get going.” Standing up with his daughter in his arms, he took the bag from your hands. He put the toddler down to hug her friend goodbye, before walking hand in hand with her outside. You laughed at how she kept squealing with each step she took, looking up to see her Dad’s reaction.
“You guys have fun, alright? I’ll just lock the doors before we go.” Toji pulled you to him, giving you a kiss. “I’ll be back later.” You put your hand around his neck, standing on your tippy toes before pecking his neck. With that, you walked out the door to join your toddler who was patiently waving at you from her car seat.
“Okay, it’s zoo time!” You wiggled your brows at her as you slammed the door shut, making her giggle. You checked your face in the mirror, trying to ignore Satoru’s soft eyes as he watched you. “How are you?” You tried to start a conversation but it was quickly interrupted as you searched around for your daughter’s binky.
“Maybe we left it inside,” Satoru spoke, opening Yui’s bag to help you find it. “Yui, where did you put it?” Remembering how she placed it on the coffee table as she showed off her outfit to her father, you started to unbuckle your seatbelts but Satoru stopped you. “It’s alright, I’ll get it.” He was already stepping out of the car before you could stop him.
Satoru jogged up your steps, knocking a few times before proceeding to open the door. Toji was just about to open it for him when he entered, “It’s Yui’s pacifier. She left it.” He put on the most polite smile he could muster, wanting nothing but to get rid of the awkwardness between them if they were both going to be in your life.
“Oh, alright. I thought it was someone else.” Toji let out a rather awkward chuckle, not knowing how else to react or what else to say. But just as Satoru uttered ‘thanks’, Toji remembered the thing he’s been thinking of for almost a week now. “Uh, Satoru,” He called, making him pause as he held the door open.
Her brows raised, waiting for him to say something. Toji doesn’t know if you’d be happy about this but it’s better than just letting his feelings, thoughts, and opinions all pile up inside of him. This is for you and Yui. Not just for him.
“I’ve been thinking about our situation with Y/N and… I was wondering if you could set aside a bit of your time for a chat?”
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hairmetal666 · 1 year ago
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Steve doesn't date, not anymore. He goes to bars, clubs, picks people up and makes it clear it's just for the night; that it can't, won't, be for anything more.
He falls too fast and too hard; wants so badly to be loved that he loses himself to it. So, he doesn't date and he's fine. More than fine, actually. Not worrying about finding someone, about falling in love, lets him truly enjoy his life; maybe for the first time since childhood.
He goes with Robin to visit her parents in Hawkins, wakes up at the ass crack of dawn to go for a run. With the sun barely up, he doesn't expect to come face-to-face with Eddie Munson, smoking on a park bench.
They startle each other in the early Hawkins quiet, Eddie jumping hard enough that he drops his cigarette into the dirt at his feet.
"Christ, Harrington!" He snarls a little.
"Fuck, Eddie." Steve fights to catch his breath. "What are you doing out this early?"
He glances up, finds Eddie's eyes raking over this body in a way that makes him go hot all over.
"Haven't been home yet." Eddie smirks. And he can see that's true, Eddie is fully dressed, faint lines of mascara trail across his cheeks.
"Had a show?"
"Something like that." Eddie's cheeks pink, and he pulls a chunk of hair over his face.
Understanding dawns, and Steve points at him, delighted laugh bubbling in his throat.
"Don't--"
"You had an all night Hellfire meeting?" Steve cackles.
"Shut--Harrington, shut-up." But he's smiling too. "I'm in town this weekend. Dustin insisted!"
"You can tell him no, you know?" Steve giggles.
"Like you ever could."
Eddie stands then, and they hug, quick and tight. He practically crumbles into his friend's body, but then, that's nothing new. Steve breathes him in, immediately comforted by the familiarity of tobacco and leather and sweat and weed.
"I'm at Rob's. Come say hi?"
Eddie nods and they trek back together. They kept in touch, after Vecna, and their chatting is easy, like it's not been six months since the last time.
Eddie stays for breakfast tells them with a smile, "I was gonna call but--I'm moving to Chicago. That's why I'm crashing at Wayne's for now, stopped on the way--"
The rest of his words are smothered by the force of Steve and Robin's hug, Steve's heart beating an elated rhythm he doesn't bother investigating.
--
When Eddie makes it to town, they hang out as constantly as an adult with a day job and a touring musician can. It's nice, good, to see Eddie sitting on their couch. To watch him smoke a joint on the balcony. To hangout in his bed as he works on new music. It's just like the summer of '86, before they all went off to find their futures.
They're closer than they've ever been. Crashing at each other's apartments, sharing clothes, meeting for coffee and drinks and meals. There's not a day or night when they're free that they don't spend together.
Steve knows he's falling for Eddie; was halfway there already, and now--well, Eddie's beautiful and funny and smart and talented. He doesn't make a move, though. Because Eddie'll leave, like they all do, and losing Eddie will crush him more than anyone else ever has.
--
In June, Eddie's gone for a month, touring across the midwest. The day he's expected back, Steve's in the kitchen, rolling up fresh pasta, simmering sauce on the stove.
Robin stomps in, eyes flashing. "What are you doing?"
"Making dinner?" Steve raises an eyebrow.
"Steve."
"Robin."
They glare at each other across the kitchen. Steve breaks first. "What's wrong with making our friend dinner?"
"I don't want either of you to get hurt."
Steve freezes, swallows. "I'm not--I'm--I wouldn't."
"Just. Promise you'll be careful?"
He nods, squeezes his hands into fists. "Course, Rob."
And he means it, he really does, but when Eddie lets himself in, Steve runs to the doorway to pull his friend into a tight hug.
Eddie huffs out a burst of air on impact, laughing lightly. "Miss me, sweetheart?"
"So much," Steve whispers. He presses his nose into Eddie's neck, breathing him in, and he doesn't miss the way a kiss is pressed into his hair, the way Eddie's breathing him in too.
They fall into their natural rhythm immediately, Eddie following him to the kitchen, cooing and posturing that Steve made him dinner.
As Steve serves up the food, Eddie wraps his arms around his waist, leaning against his back. God help him, but Steve can't help relax into the hold, turning his head until their eyes meet.
Desire bleeds from Eddie's gaze, and Steve's breath hitches. He wants this so badly, knows he shouldn't, but he lets himself lean in until they share air.
But--he can't lose Eddie. He can't.
He turns away, lets the moment die. Eddie doesn't stay over that night, and Steve pretends like it doesn't make his stomach hurt.
--
They aren't as close after that.
Steve keeps telling himself it's because they're busy. The school year's starting up, Steve's got lesson plans to write; Eddie made an EP, it got interest, he's taking meetings in New York and LA. It's okay that they're spending less time together.
Until Eddie stops returning his calls.
He tries not to worry. But one call becomes two, becomes three, and he can't help it. He goes over, dread a knot in his stomach. Eddie opens the door, and he's shirtless with sweatpants slung low on his hips, hair loose and streaming around his shoulders. He looks happy.
"Steve? What are you--"
"You weren't answering my calls, and--can I come in?"
Eddie winces. "It's not a good time, Harrington."
He stands there for a second, stung, not sure what to say.
"Eddie, I--"
"Babe?" A voice calls from inside the apartment. "Who's at the door?"
Steve freezes. Can't think, can't move. He hopes it isn't obvious that his heart is shattering, but Eddie's blinking at him, panic written in the lines gathering on his forehead.
"Steve, Stevie, please," Eddie is saying, but he can't do this. He can't do this.
He walks away, all the way home, numb to everything around him.
The phone's ringing when he gets to the apartment. He ignores it. Goes to his room, locks himself in, crawls into bed.
The phone keeps ringing. He keeps ignoring it.
It isn't supposed to be like this. They weren't dating, weren't trying for a relationship; Eddie's supposed to be his. He curls into himself, sobs until his ribs hurt, until his eyes are as heavy as his heart, and he falls asleep.
--
Steve startles awake, disoriented, to someone knocking on his bedroom door. He has no idea what time it is, how long he slept, but he expects Robin to be waiting in the hall.
It's Eddie. Hair in a messy bun, face flushed, eyes too bright.
"I'm sorry," falls out of Steve's mouth before he can think of anything else.
"Steve, I--I don't--" Eddie shakes his head. "Do you want to be in a relationship with me?"
"Yes," Steve whispers. "But I can't lose you, Eddie."
Eddie reaches out, slender hand, cupping Steve's jaw. "I need you to really listen when I say this, sweetheart. You will never, ever lose me. Not a chance."
"You can't know that," Steve says. Tears break free, cascade down his cheeks. "I used to think who could ever leave me? You know, back before Nancy. But I realized that actually no one would stay. And I can't--with you I can't--"
"Sweetheart," Eddie chokes on a sob. "I'm yours. Have been for years. I will never, ever leave you, no matter what we are to each other. But I can't be in some of a relationship with you. You have me wrapped around your finger, and I--I need it all, Steve."
"I want you to have it, Eddie." He presses his hand to his heart. "This belongs to you, but I--I couldn't survive you leaving."
"I would stay, Steve. I will. I promise on everything I have, everything I am, that you would never, ever lose me."
Steve stumbles into Eddie's arms, totally gone, and their mouths meet in a clumsy kiss. It wrecks Steve, tears him apart, renders him down to his smallest parts only to build him back together. He knows now for certain that there is no one else in the world for him.
They break apart, but don't move out of each other's orbit. "I love you," Steve whispers.
"Stevie, sweetheart, I love you more than anything." His fingers wind their way into Steve's hair, gentle, holding him. "I promise you'll have me for forever--fuck, longer than forever. My soul will find yours wherever we end up. I swear it."
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avionvadion · 2 months ago
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This Trey discourse is getting ridiculous.
Tell me you don’t understand the dream without telling you don’t understand the dream. Tell me you don’t like Trey or understand his character without telling me you don’t like Trey or understand his character. For starters, the reason most of the fandom disliked Trey early on- book one. He didn’t stand up to Riddle’s mother or stop Riddle from being a tyrant.
Argument one: he was a child. A ten year old child whose parents were being screamed at for five hours straight (something of which BOTH Idia and Leona are horrified by, and those two had some strict upbringings themselves) while listening to eight year old Riddle wailing and sobbing for his mother to stop. That shit is traumatizing. Have you ever been screamed at unjustly as a kid? It’s terrifying. It haunts you. That kind of memory latches on and never lets go. Not without help.
Argument two: Trey is 18. He is a big brother. Not a parent. He didn’t raise his little siblings either, as his parents have a seemingly good relationship with each other and their children. He hasn’t seen Riddle in years, and while excited to see Riddle at the entrance ceremony he was quickly rebuffed by the now cold and steely Riddle who grew up under his abusive mother’s rule. He and Cater then worked with Riddle to dethrone their horrible then-dorm leader, and Trey was then sacrificed to the position of vice dorm leader because the entire dorm took a vote. Still, he did his best as vice dorm leader- not wanting to lose his head or watch their dorm mates stumble accidentally onto the execution block.
Trey, at the start, wasn’t particularly close to Riddle because Riddle wouldn’t let him be, and as someone who was traumatized by what happened when he WAS A CHILD likely struggled to speak up against Riddle’s harsher rules, and that most likely muddled together with Trey’s wish for Riddle to be happy. Going against Riddle would lead to conflict, and Riddle is short tempered as is. Trey likely believed that standing up to Riddle would make things worse instead of better.
He learns quickly from Adeuce later in book one how wrong he was, but that’s beside the point. The best Trey could do in the position HE DID NOT WANT was to give advice to his dorm mates and attempt to be Riddle’s voice of reason, acting as the peacemaker and struggling to keep any situation from escalating.
Something of note here, that I find particularly fascinating, is that it’s been stated by several characters that Riddle’s reign, though tyrannical, was nowhere near as bad as the last dorm leader- who was chaos incarnate. That plays a part in why Trey and Cater both were so willing to go along with Riddle’s iron ruling, even though both knew he was going about being dorm leader the wrong way.
There was no controlling or manipulating of Riddle- despite what Leona and Idia, who have ZERO CONNECTION AND INTERACTION with Trey and Cater prior to this dream, believed. There was no stopping Riddle, either. The best they could do was appease him and keep him calm.
Now, onto his dream.
We learn that Trey and his family “laugh” about what happened with Mrs. Rosebitch. This isn’t an, “oh they weren’t affected by what happened” situation, it’s an, “oh they were so badly affected by what happened that they can’t even talk about it properly because it’s so fucked up that they just laugh instead”. That’s called a trauma response. That trauma is so deeply rooted in Trey because he’s never learned to process it, that it’s there in his dream instead of being omitted.
Trey is also dreaming of a world in which Riddle has no stressful responsibilities. They’re at school, but his mother can’t reach him there, and Chen’ya- a childhood friend of Trey’s who was THERE when the Clover family got screamed at by Mrs. Rosebitch- is dorm leader instead. Riddle is not held down by what happened, and is seemingly “freed” from his mother’s cruel hand. Heartslabyul has become a safe space.
One built by Trey and Chen’ya, something they had unknowingly tried to do as children for Riddle (as they were unaware of the abuse, but had been a shining light for sweet baby Riddle who lived in the suffocating darkness) but failed- and paid severely for it.
Now, onto Fandom problem number two: the Round Bois.
I’m seeing people call Trey a “feeder” and are behaving harshly towards him because of it. But that literally couldn’t be farther from what’s happening. For example, let us take a look at his conversation with Vil (I brought my freaking receipts; this boy is my FAV of Heartslabyul) during Vil’s lab coat vignette.
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We know Trey likes to bake.
He bakes for the Heartslabyul parties, and often gives Adeuce pastries to bring to Ramshackle to share with Yuu. But we learn in his New Years vignette that he bakes as a form of stress relief, too, to work his thoughts out and/or distract himself. It is a comfort to him. A safe space. And he knows whatever makes he will likely bring a smile to someone’s face. He enjoys baking, and he enjoys seeing people enjoy his sweets.
If someone is stressed, he encourages them to eat sweets- or cake with lots fruits, though that’s specific in this vignette because he just made a strawberry cake and was trying to find someone to give it to because it was one cake too many, lol, and Vil happened to be stressed out from something Rook said.
Trey isn’t being a “feeder” here or in his dream. He saw someone stressed and went, “Hey, I have a solution, why not try it? One slice won’t hurt and it’ll make you feel better/put you in a better mood.”
Baking is Trey’s solution, and a reliable source of comfort. He likes seeing how happy people are from the things he bakes, and he knows eating sweets can make other people happy. That’s why he goes out of his way to find someone to give the extra cake he accidentally made to- because it’ll put that person in a good mood and the cake will have a “good home” to go to.
Trey’s dream was basically giving Riddle and their other dorm mates a life where they could be happy and enjoy themselves without fear. A safe space. He could bake to his heart’s content in this massive kitchen his dream Heartslabyul provided, and everyone around him are happy and overall stress-free.
The reason they’re all ROUND BOIS???
It’s not because Trey was a “feeder” and fed them to that point, it’s because the dream-versions of his friends lacked self control and there was no one to stop them from eating sweet after sweet after sweet. They just happily ate whatever it was Trey baked, because he baked a lot- not to “feed” them, but because baking is something he greatly enjoys doing.
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goldfades · 3 months ago
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blurb based of joes frustration at the end of the game pretty plzzzzz
it’s not the first time you’ve seen him like this, jaw tight, eyes stormy, the weight of a thousand unspoken words pressing against the set of his mouth. but tonight feels different. sharper, maybe. rawer. his shoulders slump as he sinks onto the edge of the couch, the post-game silence clinging to him like an ill-fitted coat.
you don’t say anything at first, because what’s there to say? you know better than to try and fill the cracks with empty words—he’d see right through you anyway. instead, you linger in the doorway, arms crossed loosely, studying the way his hands rub at his face, frustration bleeding through the spaces between his fingers.
“rough one,” you offer finally, voice quiet, testing. it’s not much, but it’s something.
he doesn’t look at you, just shakes his head in that way that’s less no and more don’t even start.
“joey—”
“not tonight.” his voice cuts across the room, low and strained, and it stings more than you care to admit. not because he’s angry—it’s not the first time the aftermath of a loss has made him short—but because he won’t let you help carry the weight. he never does.
you hesitate, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. you could leave him to stew in his own misery, give him the space he seems to want so badly.
but then again, that’s never been your style.
you push off the doorframe, making your way toward him despite the tension crackling like static in the room. the air feels heavier with every step, but you don’t stop until you’re standing right in front of him. he still doesn’t look up, but you can feel the heat of his frustration radiating off him, see it in the way his leg bounces like a drumbeat he can’t silence.
“i’m not trying to fix it,” you say, your tone soft but steady, letting the words settle between you. “i just don’t want you sitting here drowning in it alone.”
his hands drop to his lap, and finally, finally, his eyes meet yours. they’re tired, bloodshot, and edged with something sharp enough to cut. “i don’t need a pep talk,” he mutters, his voice a low rasp. “i know what went wrong. i don’t need anyone telling me how to feel about it.”
“good thing i’m not here to give you one,” you reply, easing yourself down onto the couch beside him. close, but not too close. it’s a delicate dance, one you’ve learned to navigate over time. “but i am here. whether you like it or not.”
his gaze flickers to you for a moment, a brief flash of something softer breaking through the storm before he looks away again. he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, head dropping into his hands. “it’s just… god, it’s so fucking frustrating.” the words come out ragged, pulled from somewhere deep and aching. “i know we’re better than this. i know i’m better than this. but tonight… it felt like nothing i did was good enough.”
there’s a beat of silence, heavy and loaded. you let it hang there for a moment before leaning back against the couch, your head tilting slightly as you watch him. “you ever think that maybe it’s not all on you?”
his head snaps up at that, and you can see the protest forming on his lips before he even says a word. “it is on me,” he argues, voice sharper now, cutting through the quiet. “that’s my job. that’s what being the quarterback means. i’m supposed to lead, supposed to—”
“supposed to be perfect?” you cut in, raising a brow.
the question hangs in the air like a challenge, and for a moment, he just stares at you, his jaw working like he’s trying to find the right words to throw back at you. but then he exhales, the fight draining out of him just as quickly as it flared up.
“it’s not about being perfect,” he says finally, quieter now, almost like he’s trying to convince himself. “it’s about…” he trails off, his hands running through his hair in a way that makes it stick up in every direction. “fuck, i don’t know. i just hate losing.”
“i know.” your voice softens, the sharp edges smoothing out as you reach over to nudge his shoulder gently with yours. “but it’s not just about tonight, is it?”
he doesn’t answer right away, but the silence says enough. you know how he gets—how the losses pile up in his mind, not just the ones on the field but the ones in his own head. every missed pass, every fumble, every moment where the weight of the world feels like it’s on his back. it’s not fair, but he carries it anyway, like he doesn’t know how to do anything else.
“you’re allowed to be mad,” you say eventually, your voice low but firm. “you’re allowed to be frustrated, to hate losing, to feel like shit about it. but you don’t have to shoulder all of it alone. that’s what i’m here for, joey.”
he doesn’t say anything, but the way his shoulders drop just a fraction tells you he’s listening. you reach out, your hand finding his on the couch between you, your fingers brushing lightly against his knuckles. it’s a small gesture, but it feels like enough.
for now, at least.
his hand shifts on the couch, brushing against yours for just a second before he grabs it. firm, almost desperate. it’s a small move, but it catches you off guard—joe’s never been one to reach out like this, not when he’s all wrapped up in his head. but then he’s tugging you toward him, his grip strong enough to make it clear he’s not letting go anytime soon.
he doesn’t say a word as he pulls you into his arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck. the hug is tight—bone-crushing, really—but you don’t mind. if anything, it tells you just how much he’s been holding back.
“i hate this,” he mutters against your skin, his voice muffled but no less raw. “i hate feeling like this. like i let everyone down. like i’m not good enough.”
“joey…” you start, but he shakes his head against you, cutting you off before you can say anything else.
“just—let me get it out, okay?” his words come fast, tumbling over each other like they’ve been bottled up too long. “the offense couldn’t get going. the o-line was all over the place. and me? i was fucking useless out there. missing reads, throwing late… i don’t know what the hell was wrong with me tonight.”
you don’t interrupt, don’t try to argue with him or tell him he’s being too hard on himself. you know better than to try and fix it for him, not when he’s like this. instead, you just hold him tighter, your hand moving to his back to rub slow, soothing circles.
when he finally pulls back, it’s only to sink down onto the couch, pulling you with him until you’re lying back against the cushions. he rests his head on your chest, his weight pressing into you in a way that feels grounding, like he’s letting himself find a moment of peace in the chaos.
your hands move without thinking, running up and down his arm in that slow, rhythmic way you know he likes. it’s a small thing, but it’s enough to make his breathing even out, the tension in his body easing bit by bit.
“it’s not all on you,” you say quietly, your voice breaking the quiet that’s settled over the room. “you know that, right?”
he doesn’t answer right away, and for a moment, you think maybe he’s fallen asleep. but then he shifts, turning his face into your shirt, his voice muffled but steady. “i know. i just… i can’t help feeling like it is sometimes.”
“you don’t have to carry it all, joey,” you murmur, your fingers tracing idle patterns along his arm. “that’s why you’ve got a team. that’s why you’ve got me.”
he doesn’t respond, but the way he relaxes against you says enough. and as the silence stretches on, the only sound his slow, steady breathing, you let yourself hope that maybe, just maybe, he’ll let himself believe it, too.
↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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elderwisp · 1 month ago
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◁ || ▷
[ light rattling ]
Frances: The hell?
Frances: Christ. Atlas. Atlas! Wake up!
Atlas: Hmm? Oh! Hello you. 
Frances: Found you.
Atlas: Good job but you never really needed me to tell you that. 
Frances: Are you sober? 
Atlas: Definitely coming down, that’s for sure. 
Atlas: [ rustling ]
Frances: You decent?
Atlas: [ snorts ] Sure. What? Did you want some? Should have told me sooner since I’m empty. 
Frances: You promised me this would stop. That was our deal.
Atlas: Promises are such a big commitment for something with such little return. I need something consistent, something I know. 
Frances: Did he really mess you up that badly?
Atlas: Don’t.
Frances: Because everything changed when he came into our lives.
Atlas: Stop.
Frances: You can’t even acknowledge him because you know it’s true.
Atlas: Stop it.
Frances: ROWAN! His name was Rowan and he ruined everything!
Atlas: Ruined everything?! Hah… Hahaha! No, no you’re wrong-
Frances: You’re so delusional you can’t even see it. Of course you can't, how could you?
Atlas: Get out. 
Frances: I am trying to help you!
Atlas: I said get out-
She grabs him by the shoulders
Frances: Were we not enough? Was I never enough? I’ve been here the entire time! All he ever did was leave you! I... I shouldn’t have said that. 
Atlas: [ voice breaks ] oh god…
Frances: Hey. No, no. I’m sorry. 
Atlas: [ whispers ] He didn’t ruin me, he only set me free. 
Frances: This is the price of freedom?
Atlas: No, this is the price of a heartbreak. This part is my fault. 
Frances: You can’t keep blaming yourself. 
Atlas: What makes you think I was in the right?
Frances: Because you’re my brother. I know you.
Atlas: [ small huff ] And you should know you can’t change a thing. 
Frances: I can. You’re going to get better. You have to. 
Atlas: How naive do you have to be to believe it’s a choice? I-
Frances: Are you ready to lose it all?
Atlas: … Say what you came here to say, Frances.
Frances: I don’t want this to be the rest of our lives. This has to be the last time. It needs to. [ pauses ] It needs to be or else I’m done. 
?: [ hurried knocking ]
Frances: You expecting someone?
Atlas: Trouble.
Frances: What?
?: [ banging ] I know you’re in there Atlas! Open the fucking door!
Frances: What did you do?
Atlas: You should… Stay here. Don’t come out until I say so.
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wannabeschyulersister · 9 months ago
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under pressure
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You were going to kill Richie. Strangle him until he was blue in the face. What sane person would send someone 47 texts while they were at work?
The door to the Bear was locked but you pounded on it until Fak answered it. “(Y/n)! What are you doing here?” He genuinely looked happy to see you.
“Hi Fak. Where the fuck is Richie?” You got straight to the point.
“He’s uh, in the back I think.” Fak knew better than to keep babbling on when you were upset.
You walked across the recently buffed floor to find the tall motherfucker that doesn’t know basic texting etiquette. Once you walked into the kitchen, it was pure chaos. There was shouting (mostly coming from Richie).
“Richie!” You yelled causing everyone to stop in their tracks.
Richie’s eyes widened a little, “Hey-“
You moved towards him and immediately shut him up, “You texted me 47 times! My phone literally froze from all of the texts! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
“What’s wrong with me?! I was textin’ you because your boy is losing his fuckin’ mind!” Richie shouted back.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Richie grabbed a piece of paper off the counter, “Look at this shit! He’s changing the menu every fuckin’ day and also has this bullshit list of non-negotiables.”
You grabbed the paper from him (more like snatched it) and quickly glanced over it. It did in fact seem like Carmen was losing his mind.
“This doesn’t give you an excuse to text me like I owe you money or something!” You handed him the paper back (more like threw it) and made your way to the back in search of Carmen. He wasn’t in the office or near the lockers. You opened the back door and he was leaning against the wall.
He looked up when he heard the door opening and was surprised to see you. “Hey, I thought you were comin’ later tonight.”
“That was the plan but Richie is a dick.”
Carmen chuckled and reached out for you. You set your bag on a nearby box and let him pull you closer. He rested his head on your shoulder, “I think I’m fuckin’ this up.”
“And by “this” you mean the restaurant?”
He nodded a little against you, “Everything is fucked.”
“It did seem a little chaotic in there today. Richie said you want to change the menu every day?”
“It’s what the best restaurants do. It’s insane, I know but we have to try.”
“Doesn’t it seem a little insane to try that though?”
“It’ll be worth it. I don’t want to let anyone down. Everyone’s countin’ on me. I want to get Syd a star. I want to help Richie and Fak. Tina. And Marcus-“
You placed your hand on the back of his head soothingly. “I know, Carm.”
“I can’t disappoint everyone. I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“Carm, you make me proud each and every day. What you do in that kitchen is magical. Sure, sometimes a little dramatic,” that made him laugh, “but you’re amazing at what you do. This place, it’ll start off bumpy, it wouldn’t be easy. But once you all settle into your groove, people will be fighting to get into this place.”
Carmen tightened his grip on you and took a deep breath. He lifted his head and looked at you. You could see the anxiety practically written on his face. He was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. You wanted so badly to take the burden off of him.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He mumbled before kissing you softly.
“You’d have to deal with Richie’s crazy ass by yourself.”
Carmen laughed again and rested his forehead against yours, “What a nightmare.” You loved looking into his beautiful blue eyes.
“When Sugar is out on maternity leave, I want to step in to help.”
Carmen was a little surprised about what you said, “Really? But- but what about your job?”
“I’ve talked to my boss. I’m going to use some vacation time and then reduce my hours so that I can do both.”
“No, (Y/n). I can’t have you spreadin’ yourself so thin. I don’t want you stressed.”
“I’m going to be fine. I want to be here with you and to help the others.”
“(Y/n)-“
“Carmy, I’m not taking no for an answer. Don’t you want me around more? I’ll take some stress off of your plate. I’ll be here late nights with you with no one else around…” you trailed off hoping he’d catch the hint.
He smiled a little bit, “Late nights?”
You nodded, “Yes, late nights.”
“I like the idea of that.”
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lcriedlastnight · 9 months ago
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Y/n and Lando are arguing, y/n confesses her feelings in the heat of the moment, and Lando kisses her
thanks for your request anon! sending hugs and kisses.
tw: fem!reader, she's hella short, lmk if you want me to add anything.
w/c: 733
you cannot remember what you were fighting about anymore. what you do remember is that it started because some girl had hit on lando and you had gotten jealous. of course you were far too prideful to admit that the thought of lando with anyone else except you made you feel sick to your stomach, so instead you just gave him the silent treatment. was it wrong of you? for sure. did you feel bad? were you going to give in, admit you were in the wrong and apologise? fuck no.
"i don't get why you won't just tell me whats wrong! you always fucking do this! all i wanna do is help and y'make it extremely difficult!" lando yells. well it's a half yell half just talking extremely loudly at you. you frown as his voice raises in volume.
"there's nothing to tell you. i'm fine." you protest, arms crossed over chest as you stand in the middle of your shared kitchen. your standing still while lando is pacing around the place like a madman. you understand why but it does not make you any less jealous.
lando runs his hands through his hair with a deep sigh as he tries his best to calm down.
"look, if you aren't telling me because you think i'll be mad or get upset or whatever, i promise you i won't. i just wanna make you feel better, honey." his voice is significantly softer than before and his face seems less uptight too. the sight makes you happier because you were worried that you had gone too far with this whole thing. all you wanted was for lando to know that entertaining that girl had hurt your feelings but you could not find the confidence to do it. the driver watches as you hesistate.
"c'mon, love. you can tell me anything. you know that." lando utters, hands coming to run up and down your arms.
"i'm fine." is your reply. lando loses it, stomping away from you.
"fucking hell!" he shouts your name, frustrated.
"don't shout at me. you're the one not listening. i said i'm fine." you reply, feeling yourself rise up to match his level of frustration. lando scoffs at your words, clearly not believing them at all.
"yeah, sure and if i didn't ask you what was wrong then i wouldn't care about you or your feelings but if i do then i'm - what even am i doing wrong right now? how can i possibly be in the wrong right now when all i want to do is care about you and your feelings?" lando says exasperated. his hands coming to run through his hair again, making it ten times as messy.
"i just said that you're not listening to me and you've just proved my point! all i want is for you to listen to what i say!" you shout back at him, arms waving in the air.
lando stares at you and for a minute, for the first time in twenty minutes, the apartment is quiet. it is only seconds later that lando is striding towards you and smashing his lips onto yours. your immediate gasp helps him deepen the passionate kiss as his hand grips the back of your neck. you react as soon as his tongue touches your own. your own hands coming to grip at his shoulders. the kiss is sloppy and kind of pathetic until you pull away, panting for air.
"why," you breathe out, trying to catch your breath. "why did you do that?" you ask the brit, eyes staring into his own.
lando gives you that smile before replying "you told me to listen to you more and i thought i heard you say kiss me." he shrugs. you so badly want to roll your eyes at him but affection takes over your body instead as his cheesy grin makes butterflies flutter in your stomach.
"and next time, i would appreciate if you just told me that you were jealous instead of me trying to force it our of you." lando whispers in your ear, the feeling of his breath so close to your skin sending a wave of goosebumps down your arm. you scoff as you burrow your head into the crook of his neck as he laughs, the fight already forgotten about. seems like all you needed was a kiss or two.
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miange1 · 1 month ago
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hiii :)
i wanna request something with lo'ak? i saw something where he likes to call the reader "mama?" i kinda want something like that but with male reader please? smut as well😓
sorry if it's weird💔💔
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LO'AK SULLY
male reader, human reader, reader lwk autistic and is into the ocean, feminization, submissive top lo'ak, it's cute for like two seconds before they start fuckin, praise kinks, sweet talk(mustve been the wind), i wanna jerk off but, i miss my friend
note: skibidi
"mornin' mama." your head turned over for a moment, a small smile to your face before you turned back and continued your task.
"told you to stop calling me that lo'." your fingers messed around with the trinket, twisting and turning it. it was a sort of camera to help monitor the plants lifestyle, grace claimed she absolutely needed it or else she'd strangle someone.
"mh," he shrugged, kneeling behind you and his eyes curiously watching you work. how he called you that nickname was an honest accident. you had been talking his ear off— voice moving at a thousand miles per hour explaining things you found in the ocean and how much more cooler and interesting it is rather than the one back on earth.
he was completely love struck, eyes hooded and tail softly and slowly wishing around. "you're so pretty mama.." and he had instantly snapped out of it when you stopped talking, face hot and your expression filled with embarrassment.
ever since then it kind of flowed out.
"watcha makin'?" his head tilted and you looked back up at him. "you want something." you knew he did, you could just tell.
a wince went through his teeth, eyes averting you a moment.
his bigger hands lightly moved yours from the trinket, leaning down so his head could rest into your stomach. a small 'umf' noise came from you as he put himself onto you.
his lips kissed subtly above the fabric of your shirt, tips of his fingers grazing underneath it. "i just..missed you.." indicating he wanted to fuck you.
"missed me?" he nodded, inching your shirt up just a bit more. he wasn't slick, he knew that but he just needed you so badly he was going to lose his mind.
"so much mama," he gave you that look, that look that made your dick shoot up and he'd do it on purpose to get what he wanted.
despite you telling him that you weren't too keen on the nickname, every time you wanted to tease him, or make him feel like he was melting, you used the nickname.
lo'aks tail swished around behind him, hands in the same spot as before except you were completely nude. your cock tip leaking uselessly onto your stomach whilst lo'ak would inch the tip in before trying to go inside more and more.
you could already feel him in your stomach and he was barely half way in. you took in all of his sounds, the squelches and his little squeaks of when he thrusted inside just right.
he would just whine and whine— 'mama' over again, sometimes shortening it to 'ma' and try to dig himself inside deeper
"oh lo'ak..god, just like that..just how mama likes it, hm? so good.." your eyes closed in pleasure, fingers tangled in his hair and tugging on it just to hear a strained moan from time to time.
his eyes focused back up on you, filled with complete patheticness and submission. his hips stuttered a slight bit, breathes becoming more broken up and separated.
"ah, stop." and he did, almost instantly the moment you had said it. "wha— what, why?" he was afraid he had done something wrong, it was almost adorable.
"no reason," you kissed his nose, making his heart flutter and a deeper shade of blue come onto his cheeks. "mama.." he mumbled, realizing you had done that on purpose.
"shh.. keep going im sorry."
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oh-no-its-bird · 7 months ago
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Obkk modern au where where Kakashi and Obito are online friends who have never seen eachothers faces. It's a years long friendship (and mutual silent crush) where they've helped eachother through what was truly the darkest parts of eachothers lives.
But irl they also happen to know eachother from childhood due to having gone to the same schools and shared the same classes, and they fucking DESPISE the other. You can not stick them in a room without someone starting a fight.
When they interact irl, play into specifically the early dynamics of obkk, with kind of superficially happy/dumb Obito and a "follow the rules to the letter" grumpy overachiever Kakashi
But when they're online, play more into the older obkk dynamic.
Where Obito shows that he has a pretty big mean streak/humor and a serious talent for playing dumb; where he overlays his happier side irl for just social reasons.
While Kakashi shows he's actually super lazy and imperfect with most other factors of his life outside of work/school (and ofc downplays his actual work ethic when it comes to work/school, framing himself as doing bare minimum when he should really do more (bc he genuinley believes that)) and has a pretty wicked sense of humor himself, a love of over-romantic, fluffy porn, and a habit of using endless "cute" emotocons
Kk: Did my proposal today, it was so bad... I really slacked off this time on it. I was so nervous they'd tell me no (。﹏。")
Kk: I guess the other presentations must have been pretty bad too because they picked mine anyways? I feel so lucky (╥﹏╥)
Ob: it's ok even if you tried your best!! Im proud you were able to do even as much as you did.
Ob: I'm glad you got it, at least one of us won their proposal today. That jackass had a fucking 30 slide detailed slide with 6 DIFFERENT PIE CHARTS and a scheduled water break inbetween. Fucking kissass
Kk: nooo im sorry ( •̯́ ^ •̯̀)
Ob: it's whatever. Just glad you got the thing :)
Ob: want me to kill your boss tho.
Kk: lol
Kk: I'll help hide the body ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧
And then one day Obito does some sort of very mean prank on Kakashi. And it goes uhh. Badly.
I mean, badly for Kakashi. Obito thinks it went great!
That is till he gets home and finds his best friend for a decade, and crush for even past that decade, texting him about a very specific mean prank that got pulled on them.
Wait. No. Wait. WAIT. FUCK.
So like. Obito is a bit conflicted now. He doesn't know what to really do here??? Like. What if it ruins everything with his best friend??? But also hey best friend why the FUCK are you such a BITCH.
But also also, suddenly Obito is recontextualizing SO many of their interactions— from Kakashi suffering the devistating loss of his father when he was especially annoying, to explanations of why he reacted certain ways. And oh my god Obito is... also a kind of a bitch???
Obito has NO idea what to do and is just swinging so violently back and forth on what are really his only two options.
And sometimes he's like gleefully feeling vindictive bc after arguing with irl Kakashi, online Kakashi is ranting about "that same asshole again" at work, so Obito is like "I KNEW it was getting to u, haha you're NOT better than me after all!!!"
But then later he feels kinda bad about it bc like. Aw wait no he actually might have genuinley hurt the person he loves. And also he doesn't want to lose getting to see the real Kakashi, a mix of both of his masks, by fucking this up and choosing wrong.
Anyways Kakashi finally somehow figures it out on his own, they fight, they make up, they make out.
The end yay happy ending
There's an alternate universe where neither of them every found out about eachother and continued to be friends online and hate eachother to escalating degrees offline. But one day they start to slowly shift in dynamics. Irl they get closer and online they get so much angrier and more distant. Till we've swapped and now online they just have this GIANT fallout but offline they're actually in love now. And this continues till they're about to get married/no longer on speaking terms with eachother. And so on their wedding day they reach out again online but ONLY to hate on eachother like "oooo fuck you I'm so happy rn I just got MARRIED."
"Oh yeah you bitch??? So did I. And my husbands better than anything your ugly ass could ever pull"
"FUCK YOU MY HUSBANDS FUCKING AMAZING AND YOURS IS PROBABLY LOOKS AND ACTS LIKE SHIT"
"OH YEAH????"
"YEAH!!!"
"PROVE IT!"
And then they very sharply turn and take simultaneous photos of eachothers furious faces and then angrily, instinctivley press send.
And then they stop. And then they have a moment of dead silence.
And then they begin to have an actual, physical fist fight in front of the uncut wedding cake with ALL of their friends and families watching. And the photographers with their very ready cameras.
There was a lot of cake.
Yeah that was ah uhh. Interesting
The good news at least is now they have a photo of them fist fighting like they want to kill eachother while covered in wedding cake in a frame that says "happy marriage <3" on it, and they like to joke about it (to many, many peoples horror)
The end yay happy ending x2
If I were to write this fr I think I'd legally have to write both versions bc both are excellent
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writingthroughmyass · 7 months ago
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Service Animal (Part one)
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My mans Logan Howlett X Reader (afab)
Part two here
WARNING: This is soooo self insert it's not even funny. I get weird migraines that present like absent seizures and thought it would be nice to get a warning beforehand by my favourite babygirl Logan (like my own personal service animal). This is gonna be in three parts, it's mostly finished and ends in smooshing so be ready for that ;)
UPDATE: turns out my migraines are actually mini strokes :)
The after effects of using your power was kicking your ass.
In a daze, you made it to your private room and went straight to your bathroom. You felt the nausea rising up in your throat and quickly opened the toilet lid to throw up. 
The multiple alternate realities of what could have happened tonight flashed before your eyes. Ororo, Jean, Scott, Logan, all collapsed on the floor, dead. Their screams played in a relentless loop in your head; you were dissociating badly. Your surroundings melted away until there was nothing but the countless ways they could have died if you hadn't bent reality to avoid it. 
Always. It's always like this. 
Gradually, you begin to return to your body, only to realise there was someone in the room with you, holding your hair back. 
Terrified, your body snapped up from its kneeling position to face the intruder. 
“Woah, hey, it's just me. Calm down.”
“L-Logan?” you slurred, suddenly feeling self conscious of the smell of your breath. 
“I knocked and called out but you didn't answer. So I came in to check on you.” 
You eyed him, feeling suspicious of how out of character this was for him. 
“Why are you looking at me like I'm lying? I'm not totally heartless,” he said defensively.
“Why'd you come in the first place to see me though? I thought you were pissed with me,” you grumble.
When you'd overdone it with your powers, Logan threw a hissy fit and yelled at you for going too far. While you knew it was out of care, it still rankled you that he was acting as if you were a child. You knew what you were doing. 
“I… just had a bad feeling,” he said quietly. “Y'know how I've got my heightened senses. I could tell something was off with you.”
“I'm fine. Just need to rest. This is normal for me.”
You turned around to the bathroom sink and grabbed your toothbrush. You gave your teeth and tongue a quick clean, wanting to just wash all the blood off your body so you could sleep. 
It felt like you had a raging hangover from drinking Everclear all night. 
When you turned from the sink you noticed Logan was still there. 
“Uh… need something? I wanna get ready for bed and pass out.”
“Yeah, I need to know you're okay,” he says.
“I told you, I'm fine. I'm going to shower so please leave.” 
Your patience was wearing thin. But you were also aware that some of it was nervousness coming out as aggression. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards him, although his attitude left much to be desired. His behaviour tonight was quite frankly really sweet and it was psyching you out. You were already in the midst of losing touch with reality and his actions were so contradictory to his usual self that it was causing you a psychotic break. 
“You're not listening to me,” he ground out, losing some of his own patience. “I'm telling you that something is wrong with you.” 
You stared silently at him, mouth slightly hanging open. 
“Okay, that came out the wrong way.” He was ruffling his hair in agitation. Cute. “What I'm saying is- I'm… ah…”
“Please, Logan, I just want a shower so I can go to bed…”
“Look, I'll just wait in your room and I'll leave once you're in bed safe, ‘kay,” he says, turning to the door and walking out, shutting it behind himself. 
Fuck. 
You just wanted to be alone so you could have a good cry. You were incredibly confused about what in the world was going on but now you were really getting scared. And Logan's words were not helping. 
What if he's right and this time your connection with reality has been completely severed? But what else were you supposed to do? Let them all die? Even with your special training with Charles, your power was so unruly and chaotic that it was terrifying. You had to be careful or there would be no way back. 
You got undressed and turned on the shower, stepping inside. It was only once you were under the hot stream of water that you realised you'd left your pyjamas in your bedroom. You groaned aloud. Fuck, now you'd have to walk in front of Logan in nothing but a towel. Why the fuck was he here? You wished he'd just leave. 
You watched the dried blood wash away from your skin, turning the floor of your shower a bright red. 
You felt your stomach drop and your head turned fuzzy. The sound of your shower disappeared. The safety of your surroundings melted away. 
Scott, his eyes gouged out from his head. Ororo’s limbs crumpled every which way, her eyes clouded over not because of her powers but because she was lifeless. Jean, her neck holding on to her body by a thread, her cranium blasted open and her brain dripping down her face. 
Logan, on the ground, ripped to shreds, his Adamantium bones showing through his torn flesh. And the wounds weren't healing. 
It was always like this. As if you were being punished for playing god. It was as if all the horrible realities you prevented from happening still lived on but solely in your mind, driving you insane. It left scars of trauma on your psyche, Charles had told you. So you had to be careful in how you used your powers or you may become completely untethered from reality. A fate worse than death. 
Vaguely, you could hear yourself mumbling and gasping and swallowing loudly, trying to find some kind of equilibrium in the mess of your mind. 
You were trying desperately to connect back with your body but at the same time you didn't want to because it only meant having to fight this same battle over and over again. 
Seeing your friends die before your very eyes in hundreds of thousands of different ways, experiencing each traumatic story to its conclusion. Only to have it all unravel into a reality where none of it happened, but the whiplash makes you doubt this reality too. It's always too good to be true. You feel it in your bones that you don't deserve this. That the way you twist reality is wrong and one day it'll catch up to you in the worst possible way. 
You feel water running down your face and remember that you're in the shower. You try to ground yourself and come back to your body. You hear the water splashing, feel the ground beneath your feet, the solid embrace around you. 
You try to move but you can't. Finally, you snap fully to your body. Your mind is groggy, feeling like you'd been hit by a truck. But there's the unmistakable warmth surrounding you, dense and as unyielding as brick. 
Your face is roughly yanked upwards and you open your eyes.
“Fuck, finally! Are you alright?” 
You stare blearily, mouth open and dry from the adrenaline that had been pumping through your body just moments ago.
Bright hazel eyes. Huh. So pretty. You'd never noticed. 
You realise you're not supporting your own weight. You're finally aware that Logan has you in an embrace, holding your body up, one hand around your waist and the other on your jaw as he looks into your face. The water on your face isn't from the shower, you realise. It's your tears. 
“Bloody hell, please say something,” he says angrily. You feel some of your own anger flare up in response. What's his problem? 
“Fuck,” you croak. 
You feel his chest vibrate against yours as he laughs, suddenly aware that you're as naked as the day you were born and this man is fully clothed standing in your shower, getting his white singlet wet. Giving you a bear hug…
Your brain short circuits as you try to come up with words, feeling your whole body heat with embarrassment. 
“W-what are you doing in here?” you manage to slur.
“Helping your ass,” he says roughly. “Can you stand?”
Fuck, good question. Can I stand??
“C-close your eyes first,” you demand. 
“Bit late to be feeling shy now don't you think?” he teases with a wink. 
“Just close ‘em!” you yell at him. 
He laughs before complying. 
You extricate yourself from his arms, turning off the shower, then navigate carefully around him to exit the cubicle. You grab a towel and cover yourself, making a mental note to grab a clean one later since this one was definitely dirty now. 
“Okay, open your eyes and get out, please.”
He turns to look at you.
“Don't think that's a good idea, bub.”
“And why is that?” you huff impatiently.
“What if you collapse in the shower again?” he says matter of factly.
“I've been having these things for a long time. I've managed to survive so far so don't stress about it.”
“It's different now though, isn't it? You've been having these for a long time, you said so yourself, and they're only getting worse instead of better.”
You sigh heavily in frustration. You hated that he was right. 
“So what exactly are you suggesting?” 
Your heart was beating like crazy. He better not suggest what you think he was going to suggest.
“I'm sure old Chuckie boy wouldn't mind lending you his shower chair for the night,” he smirked. 
You laughed out loud despite the tension in the room. He always managed to make you laugh. 
“Yeah, I'm just going to wake up an old man in the middle of the night to ask if I can borrow his shower chair,” you joked, lightly slapping him on the shoulder. 
He laughed along with you then you both shared a few moments of comfortable silence. Only for him to break it with-
“My other suggestion is to shower with me so I can make sure you don't faint and hurt yourself.”
You stared at him distrustfully.
“Hey, look, I'm not being a pervert, it's just the only solution I can think of on the fly,” he placates, hands raised as if to say I'm innocent and unarmed. 
“Right…”
You stopped to think for a second, your muddled mind trying to make sense of the situation. 
It made you especially uncomfortable that you didn't exactly have your full mental faculties about you. 
But Logan was a good friend. You'd fought beside him many times before and you saw that you could trust him. But… he was still a man. A man much bigger and stronger than you. 
“Can I trust you?” you asked falteringly. What a stupid idea to ask the opinion of someone fully in power over you. 
“I promise I won't do anything without you wanting it. This is entirely your choice.” 
You looked him in the eyes, trying to find a trace of falsehood in them. But you only saw honeyed eyes, dripping with conviction. The same conviction you'd seen many times before when he was protecting those he loved. 
You felt yourself feel a little calmer. 
“Okay… but you better not break your promise. Or I'll sick Charles and his shower chair on you.” 
“I won't. I just want to keep you safe,” he said in a low, serious voice. 
You felt a fluttering behind your ribs. Fuck… I'm about to shower with this incredibly attractive asshole.
“Okay… you get in first,” you said. 
“Yes, ma'am,” he said a little too cheerily. 
You turned around to give him privacy to undress. You heard the rustle of his clothes then a thump as he dropped them on the floor of your bathroom. 
Should've known he'd be a slob…
You heard the shower turn on and you braced yourself for what was to come next. 
You turned towards the shower, keeping your head down and eyes averted. You removed your towel and stepped into the shower, still not looking at Logan and ignoring his presence, which was hard to do in your little shower. Thankfully he was turned away respectfully.
You stood behind him, turned away from his body. You took your soap and began to lather it over yourself as you usually did when you showered. 
“Would you like a hand with your back?” Logan spoke up. 
You paused as you weighed up the question in your mind. 
“Sure,” you said quietly, trying to keep yourself calm. 
This is totally normal. We're just friends having a shower. Together. 
You turned your back and heard him applying soap to his hands. Slowly, gently, as if you were made of glass, he began to rub your back, starting with your shoulders. You felt yourself give an involuntary shiver.
“Are you cold? Do you need the water a bit hotter?” he asked you. 
“No, it's fine. The temperature is okay with you?” 
“Yeah, bub, just perfect.” 
His hands felt massive against your back. He massaged your neck for a few seconds before moving down your shoulder blades towards your middle back. 
“Did-did you want me to do your back too?” you asked, trying to hide how nervous you were. 
“Since you're offering, sure,” he said gruffly. You turned towards him at the same moment he turned away from you, unfortunately catching a glimpse of his insane fucking abs, but thankfully managing not to make eye contact. 
You soaped up your hands and began with his neck, trying not to notice how thick and muscular his traps were. 
God… this is hell but also heaven. 
You ran your hands across his ridiculously broad shoulders and down his middle back, avoiding going too low lest you caress his stupid, tight ass. 
“I'm going to wash my hair, okay?” you told him, unsure of why you were asking permission. 
“Don't know why you're asking my permission.” Fuck. You were being weird. “But I can do the same right?” he responded, holding in laughter. 
You felt your face go hot.
“D-do what you want,” you said petulantly. 
You took the shampoo bottle, squeezing what you needed for yourself before handing it to him over his shoulder, which he thankfully kept turned to you in respect. 
You both washed your hair in silence. You already felt a bit better. You dreamily thought of your bed as you rinsed the shampoo from your hair. 
You then grabbed the conditioner and squeezed some into your hand. 
“Need the conditioner?” you asked Logan.
“What for?” he asked, confused. 
“For your hair, duh.”
“Nah, I'm good. Haven't had to use it so far in my life, won't start now. Need a hand with washing your hair?” 
You knew he was trying to be helpful. But it felt so, so wrong. Like overstepping your relationship as friends. But then again… would you ever get the chance again to have an incredibly sexy man wash your hair for you? 
“Sure,” you said stiffly.
Silence, then his hand moved around you to grab the bottle from you. 
“Ah-” you already had some conditioner in your hand. You were about to tell him but decided to keep quiet as he worked on your hair. 
His fingers… so thick and strong yet gentle through your hair, over your scalp. You couldn't help but to close your eyes and enjoy the sensation. 
It was over too soon and he stepped away from you again. You tipped your head to rinse your hair, giving your face a quick scrub with water while you were at it; fuck your skin routine, you were going straight to bed. 
“I'm going to step out first,” you informed him. 
He grunted in reply and you stepped from the shower, grabbing two clean towels from your bathroom cupboard. You covered yourself with one and half turned your body to Logan, gaze still averted from his direction. 
“Here ya go,” you tried to say cheerily, offering the towel to him.  
“Thanks,” he said and grabbed it from your hand. You quickly moved to the door. 
“Wait until I say you can come in,” you said before closing the door behind you. 
Fuuuuucccckkkkk.
This was not helping you to relax at all.
You dried yourself quickly and threw your pyjamas on. 
“I'm done!” you called through the door. 
He stepped out with his towel wrapped around his stupid, slutty waist. You could see his happy trail adorning his abs. His enormous pecs, his dog tags resting in the dip of his gorgeous chest. 
“Hey, bub, my eyes are up here,” he teases. 
You swallow thickly and glare at his stupid, smirking face.
“Have I ever told you I hate you?” you retort, only succeeding in making him laugh. 
“How are you feeling now?” he says softly, suddenly serious. 
“I'm… exhausted. I usually sleep a lot after an episode.” 
He nods in understanding. 
“You'll be okay if I leave?”
This gives you pause. If you were being honest to yourself, you'd say, “Please stay. I don't want to be alone tonight.” 
But you weren't honest with yourself. 
“Thanks for looking out for me, Logan. I really appreciate it and sorry for putting you out. I'll be okay. You can go to bed now if you want.” 
He looked at you in silence. He stepped towards you, so close that you had to look up to keep eye contact. You could feel the warmth radiating from him. Fuck he runs hot. 
“You mean it, right? You're okay to be alone?” 
You stared at him, a little bit dumbfounded. Was he able to read minds or something? 
“Yes, I'll be fine. I'll be in bed so I can't exactly fall,” you chuckled. 
He didn't laugh with you. Only watched you carefully. 
“Okay. I'll respect what you say you want,” he says carefully. 
Again, this is so out of character for him that you second guess yourself whether you're in reality or not. 
You watch as he turns to the bathroom and grabs his clothes from the floor then goes towards the door to the hall. 
“Hey-w-wait-y-you're not going out like that are you?” you stutter in disbelief.
He turns back to you. 
“What else am I going to do?” he asks incredulously. 
Clueless.
“Put your clothes back on,” you retort.
“Ew, you're a bit of a slob, aren't you? They're dirty and covered with blood and who knows what or who else.”
You deadpanned. 
“What if… what if you stayed here for the night?” you blurted out without thinking. You flinch at your own words.
Logan pauses with his hand on the door knob. 
“I don't exactly have my pyjamas here with me,” he says slowly. 
“I've already seen and touched you naked. What's the difference?” you hear yourself say.
What the fuck am I saying?
“I-I mean, surely I have something that can fit you,” you amend quickly. His face seems to go slack in surprise.
“Wow. You really want it, huh?” he smirks at you. 
You ignore the heat that overtakes your whole body. 
“N-never mind! Fuck off already,” you say sourly. 
“Hey, I'm just joking,” he laughs. “I can definitely stay if it helps you feel better.” He smiles at you and you feel yourself melt a little bit. 
“It… it would. Help me feel better, I mean.” 
Having him near you would help remind you that this is real, you justify. 
“Alright then,” he nods to you. “Some clothes would be great.” 
“Ah, sure, give me a second.” 
You quickly go to your wardrobe to locate the loosest pair of pants you own. He'll just have to sleep shirtless, there's no way you have a top that will fit over his broad shoulders. 
You find a dark grey pair of trackies and turn back to him. 
“Try these.”
“Thanks,” he says as he takes it from your hand.
As he moves back to the bathroom you jump into bed to wait. Your bed never felt so fucking good. 
You've barely settled under the covers when Logan reappears from the bathroom, his hair still wet and dripping down his neck. You do your best not to stare. 
He moves towards you and lifts the covers to slip into bed with you. 
This is just a sleepover, you tell yourself. Like when you have a friend over for the night.
Logan slots himself into your bed alongside you and you become suddenly aware of how small your double bed is. The frame creaks loudly from the weight of him and his Adamantium bones. 
“Comfy?” you ask.
He turns in the bed so he's facing you. A smile slowly makes its way to his face and you find you can't breathe for a second. 
“Yeah, definitely,” he murmurs. 
“Alright, sweet, g’night then,” you say quickly, turning away from him to still your beating heart. Fuck, I hope he can't hear my heart right now.
“Are you sure you're ready to sleep? Your heart is beating pretty fast,” he points out cooly. 
Mother fucker.
“So… you have heightened senses right? Kind of.. like a dog?” I'm not thinking straight, why am I trying to piss him off? 
“Thought you were going to sleep,” he grunted. The sound of his gravelly voice did something to you. But you ignored it. 
“It just kind of reminds me of those service dogs, y'know the ones that can sense when their owner is going to have a seizure? I mean, I know I don't have seizures exactly, but I guess it presents sort of like one.”
“What are you trying to say?” he asks gruffly. He doesn't like it when people compare him to dogs. You're just grateful you can't see the look on his face right now. 
“I'm just wondering how you can tell? What is it exactly that you're sensing? It's always interested me,” you say honestly. 
He grunts again and goes quiet before answering.
“I can smell it. Can't even explain what it actually smells like. But that's how I know, although it isn't always accurate.”
“That's really interesting.” And you mean it. It really is interesting… although the implications concerning his sense of smell have you a little bit paranoid… 
“So that's why I'm telling you to listen to me when I fucking tell you to stop with your powers. You could've killed yourself tonight,” he grinds out, anger in his voice. 
“Logan… you need to understand where I'm coming from. You all died tonight. Like literally, right before my very eyes, you were all dead. What do you expect me to do?” 
You feel tears pricking your eyes, the lump in your throat is choking you.
“I… I can't talk about this right now okay?” you tell him, trying to keep your voice steady. 
“Okay… okay, I'm sorry,” his voice softens. “Please, just get some sleep, okay? Guide dog’s orders.”
And just like that you're laughing again, feeling a tear running down your cheek to your pillow. You were so grateful to have him in your life. You were also grateful he couldn't see you crying right now. 
“Alright, g'night, puppy,” you tease.
“‘Night,” he says softly. 
A minute passes and you can already feel yourself starting to drift off. You smile to yourself, knowing that you have your own personal “service animal” to keep you safe tonight.
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