#like she flaked on me so many times and i would always say like hey it frustrates me when you do that

[petruchio]

kind of wild that my friend of over 12 years and i just completely stopped talking like overnight and it was literally just bc i had, like, standards

[howlingday]

Your post about Senukin lets me think about that one manga when she makes Rotten Petals. Jaune as Ngân, Weiss as Lan Hà, and Trà Ly as Elm. It’s about two childhood friends with each other and Ngân wants to confess to her, but always chatting about her new boyfriend. But in reality, Lan wants him to NTR her because she believes her mom that a man should confess a woman first, not the other way around. (Her mom definitely says that as a joke, but Lan always listens to her). Yup, she’s an idiot. But her hopes and dreams are crushed because Ngân confesses he has a girlfriend.

--------------------------------------------------

Y'know, I wasn't sure how to do this series, even though I was interested. To be honest, I was mostly turned away by seeing the prologue (with some less than great voice acting) and not really digging with the plot. It seemed like too many characters for too much drama. Thankfully, there's this guy to provide decent voice acting without the prologue. Anyways, here's...

ROTTEN FLAKES

--------------------------------------------------

Weiss: (On her scroll) My my~! You really miss me, huh~? (Giggles) Oh, grow up~!

This is Weiss Schnee. She's a girl from my childhood, and my best friend. She's living at my place but she spends all day flirting with her new boyfriend on her scroll...

Weiss: Okay, okay... I'll come over to your place and we can cuddle as long as you want~. Oh my goodness, you pervert~! Don't be so lewd~! My best friend is nearby~!

Every time I plan to confess my feelings to her, she has a new boyfriend...

Weiss: Yes, yes, I'll be back soon. Don't rush me! If you want me that bad, then love me more~!

My best friend, even though she came over to my place to hang out, has been flirting with her boyfriend for almost an hour now. If only she could understand how frustrated I am because of this!

This feeling I have inside... Like someone took something precious to me... I hate it... I can't stand it! I've been by her side for years! We did everything together! I should be her boyfriend!

Weiss: Hm? Jaune? What's the matter?

I love my best friend. And I won't let her be take away from me ever again! I... I'm sorry...

Weiss: Jaune? Why are you so quiet?

Jaune: You've left me no choice... (Unbuckles)

Weiss: (Thinking) NO WAY! Is he going to- He wouldn't, would he?!

Weiss: Jaune, don't do-

Jaune: (Lifts shirt) I... I've been going to the gym lately. What... What do you think of my abs?

Weiss: Oh my... So... So these are your "gains," right?

Jaune: (Thinking) I know you so well... We've known each other for so long, I learned what you're into! When we were kids, you used to drag me to the gym to ogle all those sweaty muscles...

Weiss: Looking at your body makes me miss my boyfriend all the more~!

Jaune: Huh?!

Jaune: ...

Weiss: You've grown up so much, Jaune. Who would have thought that scared, little boy playing knights would have become the man you are today? Any woman who becomes your girlfriend is beyond lucky, if you ask me. You're smart, charming, and always kind and caring to those around you. It's a shame, really. You're totally my type, and yet all I can do now is be jealous of whoever the lucky girl is that catches your eye...

Jaune: Hey... You said that looking at my body makes you think of your boyfriend. What does he look like?

Weiss: Oh~? You want to know, huh~? See, he looks a lot like you, doesn't he?

Jaune: Oh...

Jaune: How do we look similar? I just don't see it. Why are you going out with a guy so... weird? He looks like a total goof-off-

OH... RIGHT... I WAS THE EXACT SAME WAY TWO MONTHS AGO...

Jaune: ...

Weiss: HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH...

Flashback~ I still remember how we met, all those years ago...

Jaune: (Kid) Um... Is this yours? I found this by the lake. You can have it~!

Weiss: Ah...

A kind-hearted boy suddenly appeared before my eyes.

Weiss: Th-Thank you...

And the next thing I knew, I fell in love with the same man sitting with me right now.

My mother was a wonderful woman...

Willow: Weiss, a girl should never confess her feelings first. A girl who confesses first is impatient, desperate, and aggressive. A girl who confesses first believes she is not attractive enough to be picked. No girl should ever be in a position where she must await approval or face rejection. The one who offers the diamond ring should be the man. Never be the first to confess, Weiss.

Weiss: ...

Even back then, I always wanted to be just like my mother...

Weiss: Yes, mother...

Weiss: To protect my pride as a woman, I can't afford to tell Jaune how I really feel.

Anyways...

Weiss: I've done enough waiting! I need Jaune to confess to me NOW! I only tell him I have a boyfriend so he'll get jealous and confess FASTER!. WHEN WILL HE NTR ME?!

Yup. That's right. Our heroine of this story is a fucking hopeless loser idiot.

Jaune: Actually... Weiss... There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about.

Weiss: Oh my! What's this? What's this tension I feel?! Is it finally happening~?!.

Jaune: I've been wanting to tell you for a while, but now... Now seems like the right time to tell you more than ever!

Weiss: (Shaking) There's no doubt about it! He's finally confessing to me after all of these years!.

Weiss: Jaune, I-I...

Weiss: Calm yourself, Weiss.

Weiss: (Sips tea) Hmph! Easy game~.

Jaune: I have a girlfriend now...

Weiss: SPPPFFFTTT!

Weiss: A... A girlfriend?! Why, who doesn't have a girlfriend?! Am I not your girlfriend, or at least your friend who is a girl? I am a girl, after all!

FUCK! WHY NOW?!

Jaune: Oh, sorry. I should clarify. When I say "girlfriend," I mean my LOVER.

LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?! LOVER?!

Weiss: HUH?!

As soon as the word "LOVER" was heard, Weiss was instantly on the defense!

Jaune: Um... Weiss?

In the five stages of grief acceptance, according to experts, humans go through an emotional process to come to terms with their experience of loss.

Weiss: LOVER? What is that? Is it served hot or cold?

STAGE ONE: DENIAL

Weiss: Wait one moment! Is Jaune really telling the truth? He could be lying, just like me. All talk with no evidence to back himself up.

Jaune: ?

The heroine of our story has revealed herself. And if that's the case, I'll make Jaune tell me everything!

[faewritesfanfic]

Halloween Night

Just a short ficlet I put together of Kore and Bailey hanging out on Halloween while they wait for Eden to get back. This is almost entirely tooth rotting fluff, with a little bit of lore.

Enjoy!

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

It was late Halloween night, and Bailey and Kore were sitting on a bench waiting for Eden. Trick-or-treating could be overstimulating at times, and along the route the siblings had planned were several safe spots to pause and take a moment to rest or smoke a joint. Eden had taken a moment alone to run into a nearby store to get himself some water and maybe something to eat. Kore and Bailey had stayed outside to keep an eye on the machete that went with Eden’s Jason costume, and swap sweets.

“You got gummy bears?” Bailey asked, looking over at Kore’s bag. Kore was in her candy corn kitty costume, while Bailey was dressed as Leatherface.

“Mm, I have Gold Bears.” Kore said doubtfully.

“I can still use those. Gimmie.” Bailey motioned with his hand, and Kore handed him the sweets. She felt a little bad for whomever was going to be on the receiving end of Bailey’s plot.

“Can I have that apple in exchange?” Kore asked, pointing.

“You are so weird. Why do you want the apple? I have Flake bars in here.” Bailey gestured to his bag, but got Kore her apple.

“It’s not weird! I just…” Kore took the apple, pouting as she tried to gather her thoughts. “We don’t get a lot of fresh fruit. I feel awful saying it, but the apples are sort of the best part of Halloween for me.”

There was a long moment of silence as Bailey started to feel a vein throbbing in his head. “Fu-uuck.” He growled out at last.

Kore leaned over to get a better look at him. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay.” Bailey grumbled. “My fucking sister gets decent food so rarely she thinks apples are a treat. Fuck me.” Bailey pulled his Leatherface mask off, and shook his head when he saw the look of worry and apprehension on his sister’s face. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at Oakley.”

Mr. Oakley had been the caretaker at the orphanage for as long as anyone could remember. He was an unpleasant, plump middle aged man who’s thinning hair had already gone white. Oakley syphoned all the money he could from the orphanage, but it was never enough for the miserable git. He extracted whatever money he could from his wards, and ruled them with an iron fist. They all had at least one scar that was caused by him, and many was the time an orphan would disappear only for Oakley to scrub all trace of their existence.

Kore wrung her hands nervously, but tried to look hopeful. “He has to let us go once we graduate. He’ll have no excuse then.”

“I dunno.” Bailey shook his head. “Something tells me Oakley’s got another way to screw us over. I can just feel it.”

Kore was quiet for a moment, then scooted closer to Bailey to lower her head and speak conspiratorially with him. “Hey, this isn’t forever.” She said, gently bumping her head against Bailey’s. “We’re going to stick together, and we’re all going to get out of this. By this time next year we’ll all three be sharing a flat. We’re going to be working, and because we won’t have Oakley leeching off us we’ll have all the fruit we want. I can work full time at the spa, Eden was thinking of learning a trade, and you can take that beautiful mind of yours and go to university.”

“You don’t know that, Kore.” Bailey sighed, shaking his head. “Anything could happen between now and then. We’re still not in the clear.”

“Be that as it may, I refuse to live in fear of what might happen.” Kore said with a shrug. “Bailey, if you go through life only expecting the worst case scenario you’re going to drive yourself nuts.”

Bailey leaned back, looking up at the ominously red moon. “Yeah, I know.” The truth was that Bailey always felt like he had to be on the lookout for the next problem his family would face. If something bad happened and he hadn’t seen it coming he felt like a failure. He doesn’t tell this to his sister. It’s a selfish impulse, but he doesn’t want her to worry over him. “Hey, what are you and Eden gonna get up to after this? Unless it’s that. Don’t tell me if it’s that.” Bailey said, casually nudging Kore with his knee in an effort to lighten the situation.

Kore rolls her eyes at her brother, but reluctantly goes along with it. “We found a book of Victorian ghost stories at the library. We’re going to read that, have some sweets, Eden will braid my hair, and we’ll turn in early.”

“Wait, what was that?” Bailey asked, arching a brow.

“Well after all the excitement of tonight it’s best to rest and–”

“No, not that part. Obviously.” Bailey snarked. “The part where Eden braids your hair?”

“Oh, that?” Kore shrugged. “Eden likes to help me brush and braid my hair. It feels nice, and frankly I have quite a lot of hair so I appreciate the help.”

“You two are forty and married. Unbelievable.” Bailey gave a defeated gesture. “Well, don’t wait up for me. Me and some friends are going to go throw rancid eggs at Leighton’s house.”

“That sounds like a lovely evening.” Kore said with a nod. “Remember to put sugar in his car’s petrol tank.”

“Knew I was forgetting something. Thanks.” Bailey leaned over to look in Kore’s goody bag again. “Hey, can I have those jalapeno chips?”

[strawberrytannie07]

~Coffee Date~

Jungkook x reader

A/n: Hi my sugar cookies! I hope you like this little idea I wrote! I’m not a great writer but I hope to get better and better as I write. This has a bit of fem!reader so just to let you know and it’s all fluff!! Enjoy

—~—~—~—~—~—~—~—~—~—~—~—~—~—~—~—~

The cold start of winter is tapping at your nose as you stroll down the street to your favorite little coffee shop. You had just moved to the beautiful city of Seoul, your dream science you were a small kid. Your mother and Father had traveled here on a business trip a few years ago, sending you pictures of the beautiful night sky, and all the sightings they had seen. You turn the corner to see the small shop when the door opens you are greeted by the amazing scent of coffee and the different kinds of baked goods. The warmth inside the shop was kind and pleasant. There were not many people in there along with you but there were a few. Some studying some chatting and some doing their own thing. “Hello how are you (y/n)!” the girl behind the counter cheered. “Hey Charlie im good a bit cold though!” you giggle back “Yeah it's getting a bit cold out there, you want your regular?” she asked writing your name on a cup. “Ah yes please,” you say pulling out your wallet pulling out some money, she shakes her head. “you're on the house as long as I work here!” she winks back at you “ charlie I don't want to get you in trouble,” you say to her. She just shakes her head and walks away to make your drink. You walk over to your favorite seat the one in the corner with the big window and the comfy seats. Small little flakes of snow started falling from the sky. You pulled your laptop and school papers out of your bag. Charlie comes over with y/f/d and sits down with you. “Soo how are your studies coming along?” she asks. You smile and open up your computer “It's going good I have a month left before I graduate, I'm kinda nervous about it to be honest.” You let out a dry giggle before taking a sip of coffee. “How has your job here been?” you as. “It's fun! We just got a new worker a few weeks ago, he's great at the job. Every time you come in he's off so you've never seen him.” you smile “Well that's good you're getting along with him nicely I guess” You smile she stands up “ ya know he's super cute and looks like he's your type” she winks at you, you roll your eyes and start to write your essay for your class. You were so excited to graduate, you had straight A’s in every class you had. But you were going to miss it once you were gone. You were going to be a fashion designer and a makeup artist for idols. “ hey y/n you need a refill?” Charlie asks “Yes please, will you let me pay for this one?” you asked her this time, still, she shook her head “you're my best friend that's all the payment, and you could talk to the new guy or just let me introduce him to you?” she asked you have been single for almost 6 years due to you just not finding the right one yet. You roll your eyes “Fine when?” you asked handing her your cup “How about tonight?” your eyes widened “I look like a wreck ” you laugh charlies mouth hangs open “Girl are you kidding me you always look good I mean it's 8 pm and you're wearing a gray turtle neck, black jeans that are tight in all the right places and heels your cute af girl. Me I would have just put on a shirt and sweatpants.” she shrugs you laugh “ok ok fine” She lets out a small victory dance and walks off to the back. You shake your head thinking she was just joking. A few seconds later, “y/n!”. Charlie says you look up and meet a pair of beautiful chocolate brown eyes. Your breath hitches and your heart picks up a few paces. As the man stops in his tracks after making eye contact with you. “y/n this is jungkook, jungkook this is y/n” he takes a step closer and leans down reaching his hand out. “It's very nice you finally meet you y/n,” he says his voice like sweet venom. “H-hi it's nice to meet you too” you reach out to grab his hand only for him to turn it around and give a soft kiss to the back of your hand. Your face flushes at this prince-like affection. ¨Well you two talk and ima go back to work im very busy you know.¨ she lies as she walks off ¨ Mind if I sit?¨ he gestures to the seat infront of you. At this you shake your head ¨go ahead¨ you took a sip of the warm drink in your hand, and you look up to see

jungkook already looking at you. ¨ you are very pretty you know¨ his words commanding a small smile from your lips. ¨Thank you Jungkook, you are very handsome your self ¨ to state. He lets out a short giggle, his voice alone would make the angels jealous. ¨so y/n, what are you doing after graduation?¨ he asked, assuming Charlie told him about you already. ¨Well to be honest I don't really know. I may just go right into my career.¨ you told him. ¨thats great!¨ he smiled and placed his chin on his hand that was resting on the table. ¨what about you jungkook?¨ you ask

desperately wanting to know what this beautiful man was into. ¨ oh well…¨ he rubs the nape of his neck. Your eyebrow raises in wonder ¨I want to be a singer and a songwriter.¨ he says scanning your face to see your reaction. ¨Really wow that's awsome!¨ He smiles ¨yea it's been my dream since I was a kid.¨ you close your computer to focus on jungkook to write your paper. ¨well do you sing out in public?¨ you ask leaning on the table. He shakes his head and you frown. ¨aw why not I bet you sound wonderful jungkook!¨ you praise. His cheek was covered in a tint of red. ¨I don't know I guess I don't really think I am too good you know, to be honest im scared of the public and what they will think about me¨ he tells truthfully. You scoff in disbelief, and you stand in your seat ¨Jungkook I bet you are better than anybody else and if they don't like it they´ll have to put up with me!¨ you say smiling ¨Yea and that's scary!!¨ charlie yells from behind the counter. You laugh and this brings a smile to jungkooks face. You are interrupted by the sound of your ringtone playing on your phone. You look at it and see it has a message from your father telling you it's time to come home for dinner. ¨ hey I have to go but it was really nice talking to you jungkook it was really fun!¨ jungkook stood up ¨yea it was nice talking to you to y/n, maybe we could do it again sometime?¨ he rubbed the back of his head. ¨sure here is my phone number, text me yeah?¨ you handed him a small slip of paper with your number, name, and a heart next to it. You wink at him as you leave the small coffee shop with your bags in hand. You didn't know but it felt like you had known jungkook forever, it was nice to be able to relax and have a good time that night. A ding on your phone snaps you out of your thoughts. You open it to see it's from an unknown number. ´can't wait to see you again princess, how about we meet tomorrow at the park??´ it read. Your lips pulled into a small smile and your fingers started typing a response. ´ I would love that my prince ´ you type and close your phone. You didn't know why jungkook had such an effect on you already but what you did know was you couldn't wait to see him again.



[calculated-chaos]

"Excuse me...pardon me..." I push through the crowd, employing a few polite shoulder taps and one less-polite elbow.

Finally, I'm in sight of the harried man. In his arms is a toddler, a little girl who beams and burbles, waving her pudgy little hands at the people around them. Her dark hair seems to be plaited into a mass of tiny thin braids, and I'm surprised that a child that age would sit still for as long as it would take to manage that.

Then one of the thin strands moves. It rears up to look at me. Several of the others follow its lead, turning toward me and flicking their forked tongues.

I stand there with my mind a perfect blank. Luckily, my customer service voice has repeated itself so many times, it can operate without conscious direction. "Can I help you find something, sir?"

"I'm not sure what I'm looking for," he says desperately. "I think she's got dandruff. Do you think baby shampoo would help?"

I peer at the little girl's head. Up close, it still looks like she has animated braids, thanks to the patterns of the scales. Clinging to the shiny strands are a few papery, translucent flakes.

And then it clicks. "No, sir, you don't want soap. These little guys are shedding! It'll probably happen a few times a year while she's young. Let her play around in a bathtub--don't leave her alone, obviously, but she'll probably want to soak her head in the water."

His shoulders sag as some of the tension leaves them. "That's it? We can do that. She loves bath time. She always wants to play in the bathroom after anyone showers."

I nod. "It's the humidity. And...hey, I've got an idea!" I lead him over to the adult hair-care section, to the rack with the barrettes and decorative combs. All the combs have wide, smooth teeth, but some have textured bits at the top.

I pick out one with a carved wooden pattern. "If she'll put up with you tucking one of these into her...uh...like this, it'll give them something to rub against." Very, very slowly, giving the little wigglers time to move out of the way, I slide the comb into the mass atop the little girl's head. She giggles. The tiny snakes flick their tongues at the new toy, bump it with their noses, and begin to twine around it ecstatically. Soon, we're looking at a toddler with a sweetly elegant (if slightly wiggly) updo.

"Sold," her father says decisively. "Dusey, say thank you."

"Tank oo!" says the little girl happily, and we head up front to the registers.

You get called over to the children’s section of your store. A father is surrounded by onlookers and is frantically asking questions and begging for help. He says to you “Look I know that my child is half human, but I’m trying to do my best. I just need the right soap and hairbrush!”

[pettydreamz]

tw+tldr//

i've never rly thought of myself being a doormat. but with each of my friends and past friendships too, when i say the stuff i've have allowed to happen and done for them outloud... maybe i am. i only realised later in life that i always had rose tinted glasses with my friends. i be so proud, and loving for them always wanting better for them (bc they deserve the damned best), i try my best to respect everyone's space (this can be debatable lol). i have tried to defend other friends, like i remember some friends saying why are you still friends with her if she still treats you that way, i would've dropped her by now, but i couldnt bc i loved her, she was my friend!

i used to drop off my friends to the bus or tram and end up coming home late. i bought so many of my friends expensive gifts, whenever they needed me or wanted to hang out despite, my schedule i will make time just for them. even now if any of my friends want to hang out, even on a work day - i'll work hard the day before so i can see them the following day. i'll shout(pay/treat) them out for an outing or to eat. i give them advice and it's their own perogative to take it. if they needed me to build them a bookshelf i would do it. if they needed me to stay up all day or night in a hangout, sleepover or call i will. i'll let some friends ghost me n flake on me multiple times. im sorry that it's my fault some could never fully be open with me no matter how hard i tried, that sometimes i do get frustrated about it but hey i cant force them to do anything especially when sometimes they dont listen. they are their own person, who can form their own thoughts n opinion at the end of the day. i let them peer pressure to do all sorts of things ^^;;;

i let friends be entitled to my time n energy bc i fucking love them. like soo many times i've been fucked over by people it just hurts sometimes when it's a friend. and ofc im not saying im perfect bc ew god no. but it sucks sometimes when you dont feel appreciated, valued or loved the same.

like for 2 years back in high school every friday i will hang with my friend after school and wait an hour after her tutoring was done, and pretend im not with her bc her mother didnt like e bc i wore FAKE GLASSES.

i let many of my friends physically, mentally, emotionally and even sexually abuse me but i thought it's ok bc theyre my friends.

i'll never forget when i was like 13/14 i was on a packed tram and a hobo why dry humping me from behind, and so many saw my uncomfortable face but noone saved me, i called who i thought was my best friend at the time after i managed to escape before it lead to worse and all she could say was LMAOOOO or ROFLLL or LMFAOO. ofc i had been sexually harrassed and assaulted many more times but yeah.. i still let myself trust her and all our other friends, who also hurted me.

i let my most of my gfs - guy friends bully me, when they had the chance.

i always put them on a pedestal bc if youre my friend, then you're already amazing!

you're so much better than all the guys who treated me in my life.

all i ever wanted was a true friend experience where i feel like you have my back n is open with me. so yeah when i start reassessing what a friend means... i will unfortunately vent my frustration n insecurities on a vent blog...

sorry if i dont seem trust worthy or whatever but ig im still subconsciously protecting myself as well, bc they themselves also dont make an environment that i feel safe to share, ironically enough. this mind had always tormented me and sorry i never let you in on it.

i dont expect a transactional friendship, where i do something for them and something expect in return. thats not a friendship. but i wish some saw how much i love and would do anything for them or at least try to..

[gotatext]

JUDE & NAOMI —  DAY TWENTY-EIGHT.

location :   kitchen.

time :     evening.

description :  jude cooks up a storm meanwhile naomi nearly slices her finger off because he asked her to cut one vegetable.

featuring :   naomi  /  @heatwayve

𝗷𝘂𝗱𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘀𝗲𝘆.

there’s a weird vibe in the villa, and it’s got jude pranging out. after everything that happened this morning with romi, and then her saying she doesn’t want to share a bed with him, it’s hard not to draw conclusions about seeing dante and romi flirting. he doesn’t want to be made out to be a mug. what the fuck had happened? he’d literally had them up against the sinks with their legs around his waist, and now they’re acting like it’s nothing? it’s shady. if they end up sharing with dante instead, he’ll be fuming. whatever. it’s not even a thing. he’s here to have a good time, not to get bogged down on day one because romi’s giving someone else attention. jude's in the kitchen throwing herbs in a pan with what might look like reckless abandon, but is actually pretty tried-and-tested, as he mixes up a tomato and basil sauce for his pasta bake. spotting naomi on her way somewhere, he waves her over, gathering some of the sauce on the end of his wooden spoon and crossing the kitchen to meet her. “hey, try this,” he says, catching her chin in his hand as he lifts the spoon for her to taste it. “think it needs more chilli flakes, or is it spicy enough?” he used to do those most intense spice king challenge youtube videos for clickbait, so his barometer for what’s spicy is kinda fucked. “feel like i’m always making you taste shit for me, naomi." he could make a joke about her willingness to put shit in her mouth, but he decides to save it.  wow. growth. "i trust your judgement, though.” she doesn’t seem the type to sugar coat. if something’s shit, she’ll tell him.

naomi santos

for once, naomi's kind of relieved that the weird vibes in the villa have nothing to do with her. head still reeling from the night before, naomi's kept a certain measure of distance from the bombshells, on the likely pretense of 'baggage,' many of them have let her have it. even jude, who over the past few hours has started to reveal himself as more trouble than even naomi had gathered on her first read. if she weren't quite as bothered about the romi/josh thing, maybe naomi would be getting on to him about it, but instead . . . well, maybe she'd just rather see how things unfold. "always? i met you today, babe," she laughs. "when i think i said . . . don't touch?" jogs his memory with an arch of her brow, shaking his hand away with a jerk of her chin. naomi grabs his hand with her own, pressing it against his chest like she's putting it back where it belong. she takes the spoon from his other hand,  not holding back from keeping eye contact as she gives it a taste. "that's supposed to be spicy?" she asks dubiously.

𝗷𝘂𝗱𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘀𝗲𝘆.

she's caught him there. "okay. twice then." he's not sure he likes the pet name—it feels condescending somehow —and he kinda gets where she was coming from earlier. "uh, it's jude or nothing..." so the no touch rule only applies to him, apparently, his eyes heavy on her when she shifts his hand to his chest, his smile taunting him. no, he doesn't enjoy being manhandled by naomi, or being put in his place, but there's something entertaining about it. "supposed to be. clearly i've fucked it, though. more chilli flakes it is." he holds his hand out for the wooden spoon, not wanting to risk taking it from her and accidentally brush the slip of her wrist. it's like a fucking period drama. who's boundaries are that strict? live a little. "d'you want some? i've made enough for two." three if they have small portions. he probably should've asked romi, but he's already made them lunch today. can't be acting like a fucking simp 24/7 or he'll lose his street cred. naomi santosBOT — 01/14/2023 11:58 PMa smile tugs at the corner of her lips as he throws her words back at her. "okay," she concedes, a tilt of her head that could only be described as sassy when she looks back at him, drawing his name out, "jude." she pauses for a second before adding, "that short for something? judith?" clearly they're chatting now, so she passes the spoon back to him and hoists herself up onto the countertop with the palms of her hands, leaning back on them as she watches him work. "is this an olive branch?" she asks, trying to gauge his angle. her tone is still a bit teasing, though, lighthearted, like she can't be assed to take him completely seriously, "or are you grafting?"

𝗷𝘂𝗱𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘀𝗲𝘆.

he'd like to say he's immune to it — that naomi santos charm he'd spoken of — but he isn't. he's not sure if any guy would be if she was grinning at them like the cat that got the cream. but at the same time, he isn't going to be another claw-footed bath tool used to scratch naomi's ego, content to completely ignore her if it means she won't try to wrap him around her finger, too. "yep. that's me - judith dempsey. you got it first try. you want a prize or something?" he takes the spoon, returns to his sauce pot, and tosses in more chilli flakes, moving the sauce around the pan to keep it from sticking.  "nope. definitely not grafting," jude states, emphatically, almost a scoff in his tone. "i'm just being nice. i know, shocker." his eyes snap across to her, sitting pretty on the kitchen counter, which is a fat load of good to him. "if you want feeding, you'll have to at least look like you're helping. you can chop me up some chorizo if you want. or failing that, chuck us a beer."

naomi santos

"depends what kind of prizes you're offering," she remarks, an arched brow. she will be calling him judith from now on, though, since he's said that. she watches him out of the corner of her eye as he works, not much in the kitchen herself. "good," she states, as if she's the one who suggested that he not graft her, "seems like i'm not the only one with my hands full in here, anyhow. better keep up with what you've got." if anything that seb's said is enough to go by. it's day one and naomi herself isn't interested in getting caught in a bunch of trouble, another reason for people to write her off as the problem. "though i'm not sure being nice is the best strategy in here, wasting your time making besties with little ol' me," though this is entirely facetious. she's a formidable ally. if he's smart, he knows it. "you want my help?" lower lip juts out slightly, a playful pout. "i thought you were being nice?"

𝗷𝘂𝗱𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘀𝗲𝘆.

eyes narrowed, jude throws naomi a look that hangs in the balance between exhaustion and irritation, even if it only runs half-true. “it was a fuckin’ rhetorical question. but… sure, fuck it. what prize do you want?” as if feeding her isn’t enough. “i still get to say no if i don’t like it, because i’m the one granting the prize.” her single-worded response—good—is laughable enough that jude snorts, sudden and instinctive as a knee jerk reflex test. "yeah, good. okay." shaking his head, he turns the heat on his pan down. “i’m good at juggling,” jude shrugs. “good at card tricks too, if you’re interested.” turning around, he flips her the middle finger. “is this your card?”  he actually is kinda decent at close-up magic, having studied a book about it during one of his brief stints at juvie, back before he was a reformed bad boy on the hunt for love and the opportunity to better himself (or so he’d told the producers). but he’s not about to have a real conversation about card tricks with naomi. she’d probably call him a fuckin’ nerd. “who said i wanna be besties? who said i even wanna be friends?” he turns to look at her, eyes falling to the pout of her lower lip, and rolls his eyes. “you ever read that story about the little red hen? nobody wanted to help her farm the grain or fetch the wheat, so when she baked the bread she kept it all for herself.” apparently, it’s children’s literacy hour.  “don’t be a dick, naomi.”

naomi santos

she's not the kind of girl enticed by the hard-to-get thing. if a guy doesn't want her, she's not bending over backwards for attention when she knows she can get it somewhere else – it's the same with jude. she doesn't need his validation. "i dunno if there's anything you could offer me that i'd actually want," naomi drums her fingertips on the countertop, thinking out loud. "guess if this turns out to be any good, you could cook for me again." naomi narrows her eyes skeptically, "are you really? were you in the circus?" a short laugh, "'cause that'd explain a lot." there's a joke about a clown here somewhere that naomi's still piecing together. she can't help but grin, tongue poking out from between the left corner of her teeth, eyes shining as he flips her off. she's way more amused than offended by that, it's got its own uncouth charm. "are you one of those guys that do slight of hand magic to impress a girl at the bar?" she asks, "materialize a quarter from behind their ear or something? because that's an ick." she tilts her head as he refutes her statement, "okay," naomi pauses, still figuring out his angle, "so, what do you want to be then?" it's hard to construct the reason for his olive branch otherwise, not sure what it is he wants for her. but she doesn't even earn her own name if she doesn't find out. "okay, suit yourself," cheeky grin as she hops off the counter, "let me hold the knife."

𝗷𝘂𝗱𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘀𝗲𝘆.

“that's 'cos i don’t have anything you’d want,” jude agrees, half-laughing in response. he’s comfortable with this, the kind of jibing banter that wouldn’t be out of place in the pub back home. she’s got that british sense of humour down that most americans lack, unless she’s being straight up rude and jude’s choosing to interpret it as a joke. “cook for you again? you must be joking.” as if he doesn’t enjoy spending hours in the kitchen, chatting shit about ‘the right wine’ to pair with a shitty spag bol. he’d cook for everyone, if they let him. “yeah. how can you tell? i was an aerial silks artist,” he jokes, whipping his wooden spoon through the air in an elaborate display of choreography, and pelting the fridge with red sauce. “oops. that looks nasty. shame i didn’t see who did it.” her amusement only feeds his antics further, encouraging his stupidity, when he sidles over to naomi, nudges her knees apart with his hips, and plucks a twenty pence piece seemingly from between her thighs. “yep,” he says, and drops the coin onto her leg, returning to the pan. “have the ick, if you want. doesn't affect me. i’m not trying to fuck you.” he’s still not sure how much of that statement’s true. his cheeks lift up when she asks what he wants them to be, jude clapping back with “isn’t it a bit early for the ‘what are we’ talk?” before it can gather any steam. the truth is, he doesn’t know — all he knows is that she’s too interesting to just fuck and then not talk to, too entitled and affluent to ever graft seriously, and sadly too hot to avoid. he reaches for the largest knife in the chopping block, and hands it to her, fingers clamped around the blunt edge of the blade. sliding over the chorizo, jude can’t help but smirk. he leans back against the fridge, folds his arms across his chest, and watches her. “go on then. emasculate me.” there’s obviously a misandry joke to be made about watching her hack up a sausage but jude isn’t witty enough to think of one.

naomi santos

"yeah, you can say that again," naomi replies, a roll of her eyes. it's not actually malicious, though, almost jovial. it's kind of like they've taken the usual love island pressure off of this interaction, her insistence that she's not interested and him, likewise. naomi will choose to believe there's a small part of it that isn't entirely true because he's a man and she looks the way she does, but for the most part it is. "well, like i said, we'll see if this is any good first. not a promising start," she points out. naomi does like when people cook for her, though, wouldn't be surprising if acts of service were her love language, but she's in the best mood when she's being treated. "oh, that's a lovely mental picture," she snorts, not at all prettily, no effort to laugh cute, and tries to hide the amusement on her face when he brandishes the spoon toward the fridge. narrow-eyed glance as he stands between her, an arch of her brow that says, is this an attempt to seduce me? – because she's already laid out that it won't work. "i'm giving you advice, dipshit, i'm not the only one who'd get the ick from something that cringe," she tells him. "just trying to figure out what the fuck you want," she motions between them, "out of this." because if it's not a fuck, not friendship, not...anything, then what's he cooking for her for? her gaze on him is intense for a moment before she decides to just revel in the confusion and go along with it. she'll reach for the knife, a devilish grin back at him, sure to make eye contact as she brings the knife down over something phallic. "careful, i might think you're into that," she teases. granted, naomi's not exactly the best in the kitchen, doesn't cook much, and after he averts his attention, it doesn't take long for her to bring the knife down in the wrong place – narrowly slicing her own finger. "fuck," voice soft as naomi turns toward the sink quickly before he can make a jeering comment about her inadequacies.

𝗷𝘂𝗱𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘀𝗲𝘆.

jude’s never seen her snort laugh like that before on tv. there’s something uninhibited about it, like it’s a rare glimpse into the real, unfiltered naomi without the polish and the poise. maybe he’d like that version of her better. it doesn’t really matter since they’ve decided that they’re not friends, they’re not gonna fuck, he’s just gonna make her dinner and then they’ll go their separate ways or whatever the game plan is here. “glad you think so. you’ll have to come and see me when we do the tour.” he wonders how hard it would be to learn aerial silk as a joke⁠—not that he’d actually do it, it’s just funny to think about. would romi get the ick if he did close up magic? maybe—he’d have to ask them⁠—but then naomi asks what he wants out of this, and he’s no longer thinking about what romi likes, his focus fixed on naomi instead. “this?” he asks, amused, gesturing between them with the spoon. “what are you chatting about? this isn’t a thing.” if they air this conversation, the group chat will be fucking slaughtering him, not that it’s even worthy of airing. somehow, the situation he’s found himself in with naomi is more addictive to jude than straight up chirpsing her would ever be. he likes the uncertainty of it. he doesn’t feel the need to define every single relationship with a woman as ‘friend’ or ‘fuck’. it’s just dinner, no strings attached, he’s not even making it for her, he’s just happened to make more than necessary. romi’d told him that making her jealous wouldn’t do it for her. that doesn’t mean he can’t cook for someone else, can’t flirt with someone else, if this is even flirting. with naomi, it’s hard to tell. he doesn’t respond to the implication that he likes it. the emasculation part, not so much, but the bossy part? he digs that. 

watching her, he almost takes the knife to show her a safer way to cut, but he doesn’t want to mansplain how to cut a fucking sausage to her. she’s a grown up, she’ll manage. his eyes are darting between the bubbling pot of sauce and her hands when it happens. there’s only a second to register, her name slipping from his lips in a warning just as she brings the knife down, and cuts. “shit,” jude sighs, almost at the same time as naomi’s expletive, heat turned off the stove and spoon chucked in the pan almost as soon as it happens. “just keep it under cold water,” is all he says, already taking off at a jog towards the villa, almost smacking into angel on his way, a wayward ‘sorry dude’ as he hunts for the first aid box. luckily, it isn’t far from the door. he plucks it down from the wall, returns to the kitchen. it’s only been a matter of seconds since the cut happened. running on adrenaline but calm under crisis, he opens the tin, setting out a plastic wrapped piece of cloth, some disinfectant, a pair of scissors and a set of blue plasters. “here, just give it to me a second,” jude says, after sanitising his hands, half expecting her to bat him away. he takes hold of her finger beneath the tap, squeezing the finger a little. “no, it’s fine. a bit of bleeding’s good. it’ll get out any bacteria or whatever.” when the bleeding’s slowed, he guides her hand back under the tap, his heart rate starting to slow. “alright, looks like we’re not having chorizo in it then. maybe leave the chopping to me next time.” he can’t help but think this is a great out. do a shitty job for someone, and they’ll never ask you to do it again. 

naomi santos

"i know it's not a thing," naomi sighs, a roll of her eyes. "i just don't get you, that's all." a little exhale of breath, a mixture between a huff and a sigh as she eyes him. she knows that they don't have to define things, but that's in real life. right now, time moves quickly, and she's trying to decide whether jude is a friend or an enemy, and he's not giving her much to fuel the flame either way. what does he want from her? in all honesty, naomi's never in her life met anyone who's wanted nothing from her. so, maybe that's why she just can't believe it. still, she's drawn in, determined to find out why he's keeping his cards so close to his chest about this, about her. but maybe she shouldn't be complaining, she's got a guy cooking for her – even if he's so insistent on getting her insistence, a hair away from making a remark that pisses her off just a little too much. after she nicks the tip of her finger, naomi keeps her hand poised under the sink at jude's instruction. the corners of her lips curve upward, amused as she watches him scurry off – the way he's running, you'd think she was about to bleed out. by the time he returns with the first aid kit, which doesn't take long, she looks almost fond, genuinely surprised by the way he's jumped into action. "it's just a little cut," naomi says dismissively, a nervous laugh on her lips as jude takes her hand. "you sound more worried about the bleeding than i do." 

jude's focused on her hand, on the sink, and naomi is watching his face, lined with concern and a certain urgency. she grins, "you are so..." a scoff, "i don't know." unexpected feels like the right word, if she was held at gunpoint. "what're you gonna do now? give me a bandaid?" she leans over toward him, "hope they've got cartoons." it wasn't totally strategic, her error, but she will remind him of this any time he ever asks her to do something for him again. "you're the one who told me to start chopping anyway, i tried to sit back and look pretty – you weren't having it," she admonishes. "so, really, it's your fault."

𝗷𝘂𝗱𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘀𝗲𝘆.

eyebrows knitting together, jude shoots naomi a look that falls in the valley between confused and disbelieving.  “what’s not to get?”  from where he stands, he’s a pretty simple guy to work out. his motives and reasons for doing things aren’t all that complex. maybe what she’s struggling to work out is why he hasn’t made a move, which is simple, too.  “you’re not my type,” he shrugs, something teasing dancing in his eyes when they snap from hers back to whatever his hands are doing. one moment, it’s all a game—the next moment, he’s behaving like it’s life or death, and even naomi can spot it, dismissing his concerns with a laugh that’s kind of irritating. “i’m so what?” he asks, clearly put out, expecting her to say something like soft. it’s not soft to care about people, and even if he doesn’t have any care attached to naomi, there’s a side of him that’s nurturing, perhaps overly so, because it’s the kind of care he’s never received himself. by giving it, maybe he can be better than the people who were meant to parent him were. if he’s ever a dad, he wouldn’t want to fuck it up as monumentally as they did.

“yeah i am, actually.” as if the act of giving her a ‘band aid’ is equivalent to heckling her in the street. still, he’s attentive when he reaches for the first aid tin and plucks a plaster from it’s midst, peeling the sticky-back underside off and fixing it to her skin, the soft cushion flush against the cut. jude wraps the plaster around her finger, perhaps a tad too tight (that’ll fucking teach her) intensely aware of her eyes on his as he does it, biting down on the inside of his cheek to stop his teeth from grinding. “yeah, cool, fine. i’ll never ask you to do anything again. that what you wanted?” she moves closer and he stiffens, pressing a hand to her chest, just below her throat, to keep her there. “naomi,” he says, firm, a warning. it only takes a second for him to realise how stupid he’s being. obviously, she isn’t going to do anything stupid like that, not with him. not even if her being this close is making him think about it, which is probably intentional. he brings the bandaged finger up to his mouth, plants a kiss against the end of it, and goes back to his chopping, hoping to christ she leaves him alone.

naomi santos

she can't help but scoff, the arch of a singular perfect brow. "that doesn't explain why you don't wanna be friends," she points out, though she's got to revel on the fact that he's so fixated on turning her down, hammering down on the nail so hard he's gonna accidentally reverse it, "your denial is really convincing, though. want to tell me again how much you're not into me ? c'mon. for the viewers at home, " naomi goads him, tongue poking out between the corner of her smile as she tilts her head toward one of the cameras in the bushes. she's got nearly all the spots memorized by now, though sometimes she forgets about them. this is not one of those times. maybe he just thinks she wants him, needs him, oh baby, so he's got to shut her down to keep her from jumping on him. imagine the ego. there's annoyance in his features as she teases him for the way he's jumped into action, like she's struck some kind of nerve. naomi can't help it, though, it's not like she's had nurturing family members to look after her like this, a life full of hard edges that eventually taught her the best way to be looked after is to do it herself. if she doesn't make fun of it, she'll be forced to feel something about it. "strange," she says, finally completing her sentence, her gaze flickering up away from her hands to his eyes. "weird. i don't know. i'm still figuring it out." but soft is definitely not the word. "maybe don't do that funny little sprint in front of the girls you're actually into, though." .

a sharp inhale of breath as jude presses the band-aid to her cut, annoyance on naomi's features now because she's sure that was on purpose. but it's nothing compared to the way he cuts her off suddenly, hand on her chest like a physical barrier. she gasps, confusion evident on her features at first, brow furrowed together. he says her name, soft and low, and naomi wonders if he can feel the quickened beats of her heart beneath the palm of his hand – she'd just been joking around, but it's clear that she came too close, and something about that had spooked him. "what?" she laughs to cut the silence, grabbing jude's wrist so that she can move his hand off of her chest, "you thought i was going to kiss you or something? get real." but now she knows he was thinking about it. did he warn her to get her to stop, or was he trying to stop himself? naomi's aware that she might never know. nose scrunches curiously at the way he kisses the tip of her finger, like, that was fucking weird, but it occurs to her as he bristles and turns away that he regards her as trouble. he doesn't want to want her. fuck, that's amusing. so, she doesn't leave, hoisted onto the edge of the countertop instead, glancing over at him while he goes back to work. "where'd you learn to cook like this?"

[raineydays411]

Thanks T

 Summary: A dad is supposed to be your rock. Someone you can go to when times are hard. Someone whos supposed to protect you. WHat happens when your dad doesn’t fit the bill, and Tony does?

A/n: Hello yall! So this story hit really close to home for me lmao. It was mentioned that there aren’t any good dad/step dad Tony fics so I hope you like it. Everyone thank @alphaandromedae97 and an anon for this fic. 

Hope yall enjoy!

Your life was complicated. 

How can it not be when Tony “billionaire playboy” Stark is your step dad. 

Yes you read that right, step dad. It’s funny really, turns out he has a thing for waitresses that aren’t interested in him at first. That waitress being your mom.

They met when she was working a shift at the restaurant she works at, and he came in with Avengers. He expected her to fall at their feet like everyone else did, but she just scoffed and asked for their order. Pretty epic. 

Then one long montage later, and they ended up getting married. You were happy for your mom, of course. Deep down, Tony is a good man and you knew he’d do anything for your mom. And he’s always been nice to you, making sure you were okay with him proposing and then you moving upstate with him and your mom. He always made sure you felt included, maybe a little too much. He actually took interest in your life, which you’ll always appreciate. 

But you were a total daddy's girl by heart. You always felt like you had a close relationship with your biological father. He was a good dad, he took you out to movies, went to recitals, and always made sure to take you to the father-daughter dance your school district put on every year. It was your tradition. But after your parents divorced a few years ago, it seemed like he was getting more and more distant from you. He stopped calling as much, would skip out on your days to visit him and when you did visit, he’d lock himself in his office, claiming he had to finish some paperwork. It broke your heart, knowing that a man you were so close with, seems to be detaching himself from your life. But, in his defence he always managed to take you to the father-daughter dance. He always did. No matter how long the both of you went without seeing each other, no matter how long you haven’t spoken, he always made sure to take you. 

That act alone, reassured you that he did still love you. He was just busy. In fact, you were getting ready to go to the final father-daughter dance, as you were going to graduate this year and therefore you would be too old to attend the next year. This year was especially important to you. You wanted this night to be perfect. 

And you were positive your father would pull through as he has the past years.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were filled with excitement as you tried on multiple different dresses. You always liked this part of getting ready, the dress shopping. 

The confidence you feel when you finally found the right dress. The happy feeling you and your mother had, browsing through the dress shop downtown. Tony offered to buy you a custom designer dress, but you couldn’t accept. This was the shop you’ve been going to since you were a little girl, since you went to your very first dance with your dad. Call it nostalgia or tradition, but you couldn’t shop anywhere else. 

“ Hey ma! I think I found the one.” You shout from the dressing room, finally finding your dress after hours of searching. 

“Come out here and let’s see bug” She replies from where shes seated. You take a deep breath, soothing the wrinkles on the dress and walking outside. Your mother gasps as she see the gown. It was beautiful really. It was a glittery, lilac purple floor length dress with spaghetti straps. And it even had pockets! You were absolutely obsessed. Plus, you could probably use it as a prom dress if you really wanted to.

“Oh baby...you look so beautiful...” You mom says, tearing for the millionth time. 

“Ma, are you crying again?!” You laugh, “ Come on, that's the fifth time you’ve cried since we’ve been in the store!”

She laughs with you, sniffling as she wipes her tears,” I’m sorry, but you’re getting so big, it feels like it was only yesterday we were walking in this shop to get your first dress...and now...” She starts to cry again.

You smile softly, understanding what your mom was saying. You were in kindergarten when you first started attending these meetings, now you’re a senior in highschool. 

“Alright, no more crying. It’s a happy day for you. Has your father called texted you when he was going to come pick you up?” Your mom asked wiping her tears.

You frown, “ No, I haven;’t hear from him since two weeks ago when he said he wanted to get lunch.”

You can see your mom roll her eyes in the mirror, “ Mom he’s just busy. I’m sure he’ll call when he can.”

“Oh sure, I just hate that he doesn’t answer you fast enough.”

“I know ma, but he has work” You argue, “ He calls when he can, and that's okay.”

Your mom sighs, knowing that you were stubborn when it comes to your father. 

“ Well, let’s get this wrapped, Tony wants to get lunch and we need to convince him to get something other than shawarma.” 

You roll your eyes, “ God, what’s with that man and shawarma. It’s like his life line or something”

“I know!”

After the two of you buy the dress, you pick up Tony from the HQ. You loved the drive up there,mainly because of the scenery, but also cause you can see Cap running laps outside.

“Hell my love, hey kiddo” Tony greets switching seats with your mom.

‘Hey T” You greet, smiling at the man. 

“Did you find the dress?” He asks, driving away from his place of work and to a restaurant. 

“Yeah! It’s like the one I told you I wanted. I was surprised it was there to be honest.” You reply, “ Mom practically dehydrated herself shopping though.”

“Oh? How many times did she cry this time? Cause she was crying earlier when she was getting read-- OW! Hey I’m driving” He exclaims as your mom swats his arm.

You giggle at their antics, chest warming with the sight of your mom happy again.

“She cried five times while we were shopping. Five!”

“Five? I didn’t know the human body had that much water.”

The two of you chuckled as your mom made an offended noise.

“I hate that the two of you get on so well.” She pouts, “ And excuse me if I’m a little sad my baby is growing up so fast.”

You tune out the rest of their conversation as your phone buzzes. 

Dad

Hey kid, I’m gonna have to meet you at the school tomorrow. I have a meeting that’s gonna run late.

You

Okay daddy, I’ll see you there <3

You frown, your dad always managed to pick you up from the house. He used to take you to eat before the dance. And he always used to take the day off, devoting his time to you.

“ Uh oh, someone's frowning back there.” Tony remarks, “ What’s wrong kiddo, did a character off that show you like die/”

“Uh no, ma do you think you can drop me off at the dance tomorrow? Dad said he has a late meeting and won’t be able to pick me up.”

Your mother makes eye contact with Tony. They both know how your father has been flaking on you and how it breaks your heart that he does. It makes Tony especially mad because it remind him of his childhood. How his father really didn’t pay attention to him unless he was criticizing  his life choices.

“ Hey y/n, I can drop you off if you want.” Tony offers, “ I really don’t mind.”

You smile, “Thanks T.” 

“No problem kid.”

And with that he pulls into the restaurant parking lot. 

As your family is seated, you take a quick look around the restaurant, wanting to see the reactions of the patrons when they realize Tony Stark is in the building. But as you do, you see a man who looks very familiar. But before you can take a closer look your mom interrupts you.

“Y/n, you know it's rude to stare.”

“Oh sorry mom.” 

So you take a seat and continue with your meal. You tune out your mother and Tony’s conversation as you can’t take your mind off of that man. You take a quick glance back while your parents discuss the dessert menu.

That’s when you realize that the man was your father!

You stand up from the table and make your way towards the man. Surprised to see him there because as far as you know, he’s supposed to be in a meeting right now.

“Daddy?” You ask cautiously. The man tenses up before turning to you.

“Y/n? Honey what are you doing here?” You notice he doesn’t make an attempt to get up and hug you. 

And you also notice the second plate of food across from him and a napkin stained with what looked like lipstick.

“Um, T and Ma wanted to grab dinner.. I thought you were at a meeting?”

“This is a five star restaurant, and you just stopped in?” He asks ignoring your question, “ Of course Stark did..”

You wanted to roll your eyes. Everytime your mother was even close to being happy, your dad always found something wrong with the person she was with. But he seemed to have a strong disliking towards Tony for some reason.

“Um right...So you told me you were in a meeting? That’s why I couldn’t come over after dress shopping?”

“Right! A meeting...I’m currently in right now.” He says quickly looking towards the women's bathroom, “ You should go back to your table hon, my boss is really strict”

“Oh right, sorry” You say dejected, “ I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” your dad says with a soft smile, “ I love you Bug.”

You smile at the nickname your parents gave you, “ I love you too pop.” 

And with that you walk off, back to your mother and Tony. You can see they’re trying to hide the fact that they were watching by covering their face with the dessert menus.

“Oh here you are, we got you a tiramisu” Tony says nonchalantly, pushing the dessert towards you.

“Uh huh” You hummed teasingly, “ Dad says hi by the way.” 

“ Oh does he now?” You mom said not convinced, “ That’s nice of him.”

You hummed, mouthful of cake signaling that you were done with the conversation. Your family finished up their meals and signaled for the check. As you were walking out the restaurant, you turned to say goodbye to your dad, only to see his “boss” was back from the restroom.

Only this boss was a 5′3, brunette bombshell in a tight red dress and having her neck kissed by the man you call your father. 

Your stomach felt sick.

“Oh gross, I really didn’t need to see that.” You mutter catching the attention of Tony who was behind you. 

“See what kid?” He asks following your gaze, “Oh. Yikes is that even allowed? I didn’t know your dad was a vampire.”

You snort, “ Oh god T, that's disgusting.” 

He just laughs and pats your head, “ Come on, lets go before your mom yells at us.”

You smile, but you wondered why your dad didn’t tell you that he was on a date. Or that he was even seeing someone?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thoughts of your fathers secrets where wiped from your brain as you scrambled to get ready for the dance the next day.

Tony surprised you and your mom with a mani-pedi day at 10am and a hair appointment for you at 1pm. After you had to get shoes for your dress at the mall and then be home by 5pm to get your dress and makeup on, take pictures, and then be out the door by 7pm to take pictures with your dad, then finally be at the dance by 8pm when doors open. 

The whole day you were messaging your dad about how excited you are, getting similar replays back. He pays for you shoes and complements your hair. 

Your heart swells as you think about how hard it was in the beginning of the divorce. But your father always tried his best to spend time with you and made sure you knew he loved you.  

It was hard on you at first, but you appreciate that he tried for you. The fact that he’s been taking you to this dance since you were a little girl is proof enough. You were a little sentimental, this was your last dance after all. 

You smiled looking at yourself in the mirror. You looked beautiful in your dress. Your makeup was done to perfection and you had gotten a silk press in your hair. You felt like a princess.  You heard your mom sniffle.

“Mom, again?” You laugh,turning to face her.

“I’m sorry! You just look so beautiful!” she says with a sad smile, “ God, you grew up so fast bug” 

You roll your eyes, but feel the tears spring to your eyes as well, “ Ma! Stop I can’t ruin my make up” 

You both laugh as you fan your eyes

“You ready?” She asks, “ Tony’s waiting for you in the living room.”

You nod, gathering your things and walking out the door. You let your mom walk down the stairs first. You can hear Tony and you assume Happy in the living room. You finally make it down the stairs. It turns out it was Tony, Happy, and Peter Parker. Your mom was chatting with them and they all had their back turned to you. 

“Ahem.” You clear your throat, catching their attention.

You see Peter stiffen as he gazes at you and mutters a soft “Wow”

You blush, what can you say he’s a cutie.

 Happy gives you a comforting smile.

 And Tony?

He has a soft look on his face, “ Jeez kid, you clean up well.” 

You laugh, “ Better than you old man, what's up with the pants?”

He had on Iron Man pj pants.

“Oh hush.” He laughs, “ You look beautiful kiddo.” 

You look down with a grin.

“Oh pose for some pictures!” You mom says excitedly, “ Go Y/n, by your self first and then with me. Then with Tony.”

You sigh, knowing how long it was gonna take.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally after three million pictures, your mom and Tony drove you to the school.

“Okay bug, is your dad here?” Your mom asks looking around at the group. 

“Yeah! He should be inside.” You say kissing your mom goodbye and waving to Tony. You show the ticket and waltz in the gym. 

You smile and wave at classmates and parents. These people you’ve known since you were a child and who knew you. You finally got to the table you always sat at woth your dad. 

It was empty.

You frown and look at your phone.

Me

On my way pop!

It said the message was read.

“He must be on  driving” You think to yourself as you sat at the table.

But then twenty minutes passed. Then an hour. then two

You were still there, waiting for your dad to come. You sent five messages and they all remained unopened. 

You looked around the gym, seeing a few parents looking at you with pity in their eyes. You can barely stand it.

You got up and went to the restroom, trying not to cry. and in the restroom you tried calling you father, but you were sent to voicemail. The you finally got a message. 

Dad

“I’m so sorry bug, I can’t make it to the dance. I have a meeting today. :(”

You felt dejected. Humiliated. 

Your father has rearranged visitation days, skipped out on little crimonied and rectitals you’ve had, but this by far was the most disappointing thing he has done. 

He promised multiple times that he’d be here. Never has he ever skipped out on the dance before.  ANd he knew how important this was to you. Thi was your last dance, and he ruined it. 

You let yourself cry. You sobbed as you realized that your father has been distancing himself from you. That your relationship hasn’t been okay for a while. And you just didn’t want to let go.

You sigh as you realize you’ve been in the restroom for a while. You stand up and look at your face. Despite the red eyes and slightly red nose, your make up was pretty much intact.

“Huh at least my setting spray hasn’t let me down.” You say to your self. After a few mintues of calming down, you walk out of the restroom and bump into a figure. 

“Sorry” you mutter about to pass the person. 

“Gee you took a while in there, I told you not to get that coffee kid.” 

You quickly look up and se Tony.

Dressed in a suit, flowers in hand.

“Hey kid.” He says softly

“what..what are you doing here?” You whisper, tears filling your eyes again.

“Well apparently you need an rent a dad, and I happened to be in the neighborhood.” He jokes, then says, “ I’m sorry your dad didn’t come kiddo, and I know I’m not him, and quite frankly I’m glad I’m not. But I do love you like you’re my own, and well...yeah here I am.”

You stay quiet, looking at Tony in wonder. Touched that he did this for you.

“Of course if you just want to leave then we can just get out of here” He rambles nervously, “ But you gotta tell me kid cause I’m kinda freaking out.”

“Can we get ice cream after?” You ask him

“What?”

“After the dance, we should go get ice cream.” 

“Uh sure?” Tony says, “So what do you usually do at these things?” 

You laugh and steer him to the tables where they have all the activities at. You actually have more fun with him than you had recently wit your dad. Tony is definitely more competitive than your father and treats every game as a challenge. Not like something he’s humoring just for his kid. He celebrates with you instead of telling you to calm down. He chats with the adults, is nice to the kids, and does the goofy dances with you. Seeing Iron Man do the chicken dance is something you didn’t know you needed till now. He managed to turn this horrible night to one of the best ones you’ve had in quite a while. 

Finally the father daughter dance started to signal the end of the dance. Tony bowed dramatically and said in a horrible british accent, “ Lady Y/n?”

You laugh and make your way to the dance floor. You’re both quiet for a bit, snorting at how serious the other dads and their daughters look.

“Hey T?” You say softly, looking at the ground.

“Yeah kid?” 

“Thank you. It’s nice to know that one of my dad's isn’t a total asshole.” You say. knowing that this is the first time you referred to Tony as your dad.

His eyes get misty as he clears his throat,

“Anytime, bug”

[waitimcomingtoo]

Begin Again

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: when Tom learns you have a boyfriend, he decides to wait for you 

p.s. try and count all the taylor swift references 👀

Masterlist

“Is he coming?”

“No.” You sighed and put your phone down. “He just cancelled.”

“Shocker.” Oho rolled her eyes at you. You looked around the crowded club and tried not to get upset over that fact your boyfriend had flaked on you once again.

“He’s just busy. He said he’ll make it up to me.” You replied, but even you didn’t believe it.

“He always says that.” She reminded you. “And he never means it.”

“I know.” You smiled sadly. “But it hurts less when I pretend.”

“Screw him.” Oho decided. “You’re single tonight.”

“No I’m not.” You sighed.

“Yes, you are.” She grinned and looked over her shoulder. “Because that guys been staring at you for the past five minutes and he’s coming over.”

As if on cue, the guy she was looking at walked over to the two of you and held out his hand.

“Hi. I hope you don’t mind me interrupting.” He smiled. “I’m Tom.”

“Hi Tom. This is Y/n.” Oho pushed you towards him. “I have to go. Love you.”

Oho blew you a kiss before running off somewhere in the crowd. You gave her an angry look, but she was already long gone. Tom awkwardly cleared his throat and you turned your attention back to him.

“Hi.” You smiled weakly.

“Hey. Your friend seems nice. And you look nice.” He complimented. “I like your dress. I’ve never seen that color blue.”

“It’s a romper.” You said awkwardly as you looked down at your outfit.

“A what?”

“Never mind.” You waved your hand. “It’s new and I wasn’t sure if I liked it on me. So I appreciate the compliment.”

“Oh, you liked it? Because I couldn’t decide between telling you I liked the dress or that your smile caught my attention from across the bar and I just had to say hello.” He said suavely as he mocked the over used pick up lines you’d heard so many times before.

“I’m glad you went with the dress.” You laughed at his joke. “But you should probably try your luck with a different girl. I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh yeah?” Tom raised his eyebrow. “Where is he?”

“Home.” You smiled tightly. “He’s working.”

“What does he do?” He wondered. “Because there is no job you could offer me that would be worth staying home to work when my girlfriend looks this good in her rompee.”

“It’s a romper.” You laughed as you corrected him. “And for your information, he’s a musician.”

“A musician?” Tom said as he held back a laugh.

“Don’t laugh.” You playfully hit his arm. “What do you do?”

“I can’t tell you. You’re clearly flirting with me when you have a boyfriend.” Tom sighed and dramatically looked away.

“Oh. Well excuse me.” You laughed again at his humor.

“Fine. Since you’re begging.” He continued to tease you. “I’m an actor. How about you?”

“Journalist.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “So what brings you out tonight? You better not be stalking me for a story.”

“You caught me.” You joked and held out your hand as a microphone. “Can I please get a quote?”

“Yeah. My name is Tom Holland and I think you’re really pretty.” Tom said as he pulled your hand closer and pretended to speak into it.

“Well thank you.” You smiled shyly. “But if you’ll refer back to my previous email, I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh my God.” He tugged at his hair. “I totally forgot women can’t be pretty when they have boyfriends. I’m such a fool. Please don’t write in your article that I’m dumb.”

“I won’t.” You giggled. “I’m actually an investigative journalist but I appreciate the compliment.”

“Ooo. So do you solve crimes?”

“You know a comically small amount about investigative journalism.” You chuckled as you sipped your drink.

“Tell you what? You let me buy you a drink and I’ll let you tell me all about it.” He bartered.

“All right.” You decided after looking him up and down. “As long as you keep in mind that I have a boyfriend.”

“Trust me, I’ve been keeping him in mind since you mentioned him.” Tom assured you. “I’m picturing what it would be like to beat him in a fight right now. Op! I just won.”

“You’re kind of an idiot.” You shook your head as you laughed at him.

“After a drink, you’ll find out that’s it’s more than just kind of.” He shrugged as he lead you over to the bar. You spent the next two hours with him, drinking and getting to know him. You liked the way he threw his head back when he laughed, like a little kid. You also liked how he repeated things you said back to you, so you always knew he was listening. And most of all, you liked the way he made you forget all about your boyfriend ditching you.

When the night sky lightened with early morning sun beams, you and Tom knew it was time to leave. You couldn’t believe you’d spent the night in a club, talking to a stranger. You could believe even less that he respected the fact you had a boyfriend and didn’t make any moves on you.

“Well miss Y/n, I’ve had a lovely time chatting with you. It was enchanting to meet you.” Tom said as you taxi pulled up. You held out your hand to shake his, but instead he took it and brought it his lips to kiss the back of it.

“I had a really nice time as well.” You told him while a blush heated your face. “More fun then I’ve had in a while.”

“Then could we do this again sometime?” He asked hopefully. “Maybe somewhere less loud?”

“Tom.” You looked at him pointedly. “You know I have a boyfriend. I don’t want to lead you on.”

“I know.” He smiled. “But I don’t think he’s right for you.”

“You don’t?” You asked with faint hope.

“No. So I’m gonna wait for you.” He said matter of factly.

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask.” He shrugged. “I’m doing it because I really like you. And if I end up getting my heart broken, I’ll know it was entirely my fault.”

“You could be waiting a really long time.” You tried to deter him. “I could marry him.”

“You won’t.” Tom said smugly.

“How do you know that?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Because I feel it in my gut that you and I are meant to be more than friends.” He told you. “And I think you feel it too. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be having this conversation with me.”

You looked at him for a moment, sizing him up before you held out a hand.

“Give me your phone.” You requested. “Unlocked, please.”

Tom put his unlocked phone in your hand and watched you as you typed something on it.

“My birthday is next Saturday. Come to that address at 8.” You handed his phone back to him and pointed to the address you’d written in his notes app. Underneath the address, you had put your number and a little heart.

“Cute.” He laughed mockingly. “I’ll come at 7 and help you set up.”

“Oh, will you now?” You challenged him.

“Yup. I’m just that charming.” He said smugly.

“You might be right about that one.” You admitted. Tom dropped his act and smiled fondly at you for a moment. He put one hand on your waist and pulled you closer so he could kiss your cheek, your skin burning beneath him.

“I’ll see you on Saturday, darling.” He said as he pulled away.

“See you Saturday.”

~

“Oh.” You blinked when you opened the door that Saturday. “You really meant you were coming at 7.”

“I really did.” Tom smiled behind the grocery bag he was holding. “Happy birthday, darling. You look beautiful.”

“Thanks.” You laughed and looked down at your pajamas. “I haven’t even gotten dressed yet. And what’s in the bag?”

“Crisps and some extra alcohol.” He said as he handed the bag to you. As you looked inside, he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek and let himself in.

“You brought all this without me asking?” You asked in disbelief as he moved past you.

“I wasn’t gonna show up empty handed.” He shrugged. “I’m trying to impress you, after all.”

“It’s working.” You admitted and set the bag down. “I’ll be right back. I have to put on my dress.”

“All right. I’ll finish setting up.” He smiled at you before you went to your bedroom. You came back down a half hour later with your dress on and hair done. In the time you’d been gone, Tom had set up your kitchen like a real party. He had the chips in bowls and the alcohol neatly organized next to a stack of cups. You gasped a little, alerting him to your presence. He looked at you and his mouth fell open from the sight of you in your party dress. He pointed at you with a weak finger, his face red from awe.

“Is that a rumple?” He asked softly.

“Romper.” A laugh escaped from your lips as you corrected him. “And no. This is a dress.”

“Well then that dress looks amazing on you.” He smiled and pointed to his lips. “And I like the red lip thing you got going on. Classic.”

“Thanks.” You touched a finger to your lips and smiled. You had worried that the red lipstick would be overkill, but Tom crushed those fears without knowing they were there.

“I hope you don’t mind, I set some stuff up.” He gestured to the supplies. “And not that I looked through your cabinets, but you have a shocking amount of spoons.”

“All I eat is ice cream and soup.” You shrugged as you walked over to him. “Spoons are all I need.”

“Then let me take you out for ice cream tomorrow. My treat.” He offered. “And happy birthday, by the way. I was a little too distracted to say it before.”

“Thanks.” You smiled fondly at him. He was practically a stranger, yet he had gone out of his way to make your night special. He had taken on all the responsibilities of a boyfriend without being asked or expecting anything in return.

“Tom?” You asked suddenly as you looked at all the work he had done.

“Yes darling?” He replied while filling a cooler with ice.

“Thanks for coming.” You said with a squeeze of his hand.

“You’re welcome.” He put his hand over yours and squeezed back. “Now help me pick some music.”

A few hours later, the party was in full swing. Tom got to meet all of your friends, all of whom were curious about the handsome stranger who never left your side. As the night went on, Tom noticed how you checked your phone every few minutes. He was well aware that he hadn’t met your boyfriend yet, but said nothing. He could only assume the person you were still waiting on was him, and he hated the way your face crumbled every time you checked your phone.

“Hey, when’s your boyfriend coming?” He pulled you close to whisper in your ear. “I gotta see my competition.”

“He said he’ll be here.” You nodded unenthusiastically. “He’s just a little late.”

“Okay.” Tom smiled and dropped the subject.

You excused yourself at one point to take a phone call, and Tom immediately knew something was wrong. When didn’t come back to the party, he went around looking for you. He found you on the balcony with your back to him, looking woefully out at the skyline. You jumped a little when he closed the sliding door behind him and turned around. Your face said it all, so he stayed silent until you wanted to talk.

“He’s not coming.” You stated, and the weight of his absence hit you. It was like slow motion as you stumbled back a little while a tear slipped down your face. Tom opened his arms and pulled you into a tight hug as he rested his chin on top of your head.

“I’m sorry, darling.” He mumbled as he rubbed your back.

“He always does this.” You sniffled. “I just didn’t think he’d do it on my birthday. I would’ve been so happy if he showed up just this once. I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid.” Tom insisted. “He’s stupid.”

“He always makes me feel like this.” You sighed as you wiped your face. “Just so shitty.”

Tom stood there silently as you went on a slight rant about your boyfriend. He wordlessly dried your tears and listened to everything you need to get off your chest.

“I’m sorry.” You said when you realized you’d been ranting. “I can’t talk to my friends about this because they already hate him. They’ll just tell me to leave him.”

“May I ask why you haven’t left him yet?” He asked politely. “I saw your face when you read the text. It seemed like you expected this to happen.”

“I have to expect the worst from him.” You told him. “The only time he’s consistent is when he’s letting me down.”

“So why haven’t you...” He trailed off, not wanting to come off as rude.

“I love him.” You shrugged sadly. “I’ve given him two years of my life. I’ve put so much time and energy into him and our relationship. I can’t break up with him now. He’s the man he is because I made him that way. I taught him how to be a boyfriend, you know? I taught him how to have a relationship with a woman. If I break up with him, he’s just gonna be find some other girl to be that man for. I don’t want someone else to reap the benefits of my hard work.”

“Darling, I don’t think relationships are supposed to be hard work.” Tom said carefully. “You need to put effort into them, sure. But not like this. You shouldn’t have to fight to keep him in your life. He should willingly choose to be here for you.”

“I don’t want to end up alone.” You said after a minute of silence.

“You’re not alone. You have a room full of people in there who want to celebrate you.” Tom pointed to your apartment. “Don’t let your night be ruined by the one who didn’t show.”

“You’re right.” You let and a sigh and gave him a soft smile. “Thanks for cheering me up. I really appreciate you coming tonight.”

“Of course.” He smiled back at you.

“So that’s it?” You raised an eyebrow. “You’re not gonna try to make me dump him or tell me how much better I’d be without him?”

“Right now, I just want to make you smile.” He answered honestly. “It is your birthday after all. You deserve to be happy.”

“Whatever that means.” You smiled sadly. He smiled back and stepped forward to hug you.

“I like your shoes by the way.” He complimented when he pulled away. “You look really nice tonight. Too pretty to be wearing a frown.”

“Really?” You held out your foot and examined your high heels. “You don’t think I look too tall?”

“No.” He laughed as if it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. “Not at all.”

“He never liked it when I wore high heels.” You admitted. “He didn’t like it when I was taller than him.”

“Didn’t?” Tom asked carefully. “You used the past tense. Does that mean you’re leaving him in the past?”

“Maybe.” You decided. “That’s the best I can give you right now.”

“That’s good enough for me.”

You let Tom lead you back to the party and tried your best to have a good time. To your surprise, it only took a few minutes before your boyfriend standing you up left your mind. Tom suggested a drinking game, and you were laughing and smiling again in no time.

When the party ended, Tom hung back and helped you clean up. He ended up crashing on your couch just as you got a call from your boyfriend. You covered Tom in a blanket before stealing out of the room to answer the phone.

“Hey.” He said as soon as you picked up. “I just woke up and realized what day it was. I’m sorry about your party.”

“I’m sorry too.” You said after a minute.

“I swear. I’ll be there next year.” He tried to joke. Your face scrunched up in emotion, unable to comprehend him joking in a time like that.

“No.” You said through a shakey breath.

“What?”

“No.” You repeated. “No. I don’t want you there next year.”

“I was kidding, honey.” He said flatly. “I was just-“

“I wasn’t kidding.” You cut him off. “The mere thought of doing this for another year exhausts me.”

“What do you mean doing this?” His tone changed. “Being with me exhausts you?”

“Yes! It does!” You exclaimed. “But it shouldn’t. I shouldn’t have to try this hard to keep you around. It is exhausting to be in love with you. I constantly have to watch what I say so I don’t set you off and cause another fight.”

“I didn’t realize I was such a burden.” He said bitterly.

“Oh no.” You laughed humorlessly. “A burden is something forced on to you. I willingly chose to be with you. But you have never chosen me. I am constantly a footnote or an afterthought or simply left off the page. And you were my centerfold.”

“That’s not true.” He scoffed. “I love you. I’m just busy.”

“Busy with everything but me. You’re never home. And when you do come home, I never know which version of you I’m gonna get. Is it gonna be the version that likes me and asks about my day, or the one that gets irritated every time I speak?” You asked. “I have to hold my breath and guess every time I get the “I’ll be home in 5 minutes” text.”

“You knew my job required a lot of traveling when you met me. What do you want me to do? Quit?”

“You don’t have to. Because I’m done being exhausted. I’m done with you. And by the way, I wear heels now. Fuck you.” You angrily hung up and looked at your phone until a relieved smile crossed your face.

“That was impressive.”

You jumped and turned around to see Tom rubbing his eyes in his doorway. Your hand clenched around your phone when you realized he probably heard your whole conversation.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I’m glad you did.” He smiled. “I wouldn’t want to miss all that.”

“I think I just broke up with my boyfriend.” You smiled proudly, then your face fell.

“How about we go to sleep and process this all in the morning?” He said before you could start crying. “We still have an ice cream date to attend. And you need some sleep.”

You nodded and let Tom take you to your room. He kissed you on the cheek and gave your hand a squeeze before returning to the couch.

The next day, Tom let you sleep in as long as you needed. When you woke up, he had tea, eggs, and toast set up on your kitchen table.

“I hope you’re hungry.” He greeted you as you yawned. “And I bet you are after watching you take all those shots last night. I think you ate an entire lime yesterday, love.”

“I don’t remember that.” You laughed as you sat down in front of the plate. “But I don’t remember a lot of last night. I think that’s a good thing.”

Tom smiled sadly at you as you picked at the crust on your toast. He knew you were lying about how much you remembered. You knew exactly what happened last night, the good and the bad.

“My relationship is over.” You said quietly without looking up at him.

“I’m sorry.” He said as he took a seat across from you. “I know you guys were together a long time.”

“Yeah.” You smiled sadly. “Maybe too long.”

“I think it’s for the best.” He told you. “You weren’t happy with him. But you learned from it and now you can move on.”

“I hope I can.” You said while looking into his eyes. “I was so unhappy with him. I don’t understand why I miss him.”

“You miss the good parts.” Tom shrugged. “That’s normal. But it’s good that you let go. You have to let go before you get dragged.”

“Yeah.” You lightened up as you agreed with him. “You’re pretty good at this, you know. Do you console a lot of broken hearted girls?”

“This is actually a first for me.” He’s chuckled. “But I was eavesdropping when my little brother got his heart broken for the first time. So you can thank my mom for all this.”

“Well tell her I said thank you.” You smiled before sipping your tea.

“I’ll let her know.” He winked at you before putting his mug in your sink. You watched him curiously as he continued to act in a completely platonic manor around you. After all his jabs at your relationship before it ended, you figured he’d be happy now that it was over.

“I don’t get it.” You admitted. “I just told you that my relationship is over. Are you really not gonna make a move on me?”

“Why would I do that?” He asked in confusion.

“You said you were gonna wait for me.” You reminded him. “I’m single now. The wait is technically over.”

“You’re single but you’re in no position to be starting something new.” He said simply. “You were with that guy for two years right?”

“Yeah.”

“Imagine how much you’ve changed in those two years.” He began. “And how much of that change was directly related to him. You have to get to know yourself first before you can start something with someone else.”

“Oh.” You realized he was right. “You’re kinda freaking me out with how good you are at relationships.”

“It’s easier from an outsiders perspective.” He laughed. “And don’t get me wrong, I absolutely still want to be with you. But you don’t need a boyfriend right now. You need a friend. And I’m happy to be that.”

“You’re a really good guy, Tom.” You told him as you put your hand over his. “It’s been a while since I’ve been around a really good guy.”

“I do what I can.” He shrugged shyly and laced his fingers through yours.

“Well you’re doing a great job.” You smiled. “So I want to make you deal.”

“A deal?”

“You keep on being my friend while I get to know myself again, and I’ll wait too.” You proposed.

“I like that deal.” He grinned. “But I have a lot at stake here, so I’m gonna need some collateral.”

“Collateral?” You raised an eyebrow. He smirked at you before leaning across your kitchen table to kiss you. You kissed him back right away, tasting the honey from his tea on his tongue. He put a hand on your face and softly brushed your cheek with his thumb before pulling away.

“There.” He said softly. “So you know what you’re waiting for.”

“Ah. I see.” You held back a smile. “So when our deal is up, I have to give it back? Is that it?”

“Smart girl.” He winked and sat back in his seat. “So, do we have a deal?”

You looked him up and down before holding out your hand for him to shake.

“We most definitely have a deal.”

PART TWO

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[jt-artsandfics]

Jealous and protective pt3.

This one's gonna be a lot longer then normal just becuase it has alot more charcaters but since Bi-han already has his own with this I'm leaving him out of this lot. (As much a it pains me) I'm keeping these all with the gender neutral them becuase I find it easier writing that in a whole unless someone partially ask for a set gender. So without further delay enjoy.

Warnings: swearing, curssing, gore (it's mortal kombat), nsfw hinted in some spots, Sex. Talk of sexual harassment.

Rain- Jealous and protective

-Rain despite what he believes, he is a very jealous man. Not to mention he is very over protective borderline possessive.

-He as killed people for the fact he does not like them nesr you and has made it clear on multiple occasions to others. But Rain can be quite sweet when alone.

- he may be egotistic but he also has a soft spot of his S/o.

-He loves showing his partner off but at the same time wants no one to know about them. It was very much a learning curve with his S/o very different cultures, life experiences and such.

-This man hasn't had the best experience with lovers, has been turned down on multiple occasions.

-So once he has you, your gonna have a hard time getting him to let go of you.

-this man gets it many fight becuase of you.

-does not like other Kombations being near you, and has made it very clear to everyone to stay away from what is his.

- for someone known for being a traitor he's loyal as fuck to you as long as you do not betray him.

- man radiates bratty bottom energy an the knows he does.

-------

" Hello my treasure" Rain whispers as he pulls his lover into his embrace. They smile lightly as he rest his head in the crock of their neck.

"Hello my Prince, where have you been off too?" They ask lightly running their hands up to his masked face and slowly remove it. He smiles lightly as his lover runs their hand over a bruise in the side of Rain's face.

"Babe did you get into another fight?" He lets out a huffed breath while trying to look away from his lover only to have them grab his face and force him to look back at them.

"Rain baby, look at me" they say softly as his eyes flick to then. They smile lightly at him and press a soft kiss to his lips. He hums in contentment arms snaking around his lover. His lover pulls away gentle running their hand up to pull away the rest of his head gear.

"So.. who pissed you off and how badly do They look now?" They ask lightly making him laugh gently. His S/o runs their hands thought his hair pulling at the soft strands

"I discarded his body, you will not find anything left of that wretched man." He huffs pulling them closer as he holds them.

"Now what did he do to piss you off so badly Rain?" They ask pulling him in for another kiss. He hums lightly once again enjoying having ha I lover in his arms and indulging in the moment.

" he called you my Whore, and he bragged about how he could make you scream, as you can guess. I did not take kindly to that" it's quite between them again as she sighs into their shoulder.

"I do not enjoy degenerates who do not know their places, they will learn to respect you or end up dead" he said moving away and grabbing his lovers hand. They walk thought the quite corridors together.

"Rain, thank you. I know you might not understand it from my side but thank you for telling me. I know I'm not the easiest to love and I know you are trying your best too. So knowing that you're willing defend me over something like that, it.. it means alot to me" They say to their lover. Rains eyes flick over to his treasure. Pride filling him.

"No one gets to touch you, you are mine. To love to make scream and to claim" he can see their face go bright red at his comment.

"Love you too my Prince"

Johnny Cage - jealous and protective

Younger Johnny is alot more jealous then older Johnny. But older Johnny is more protective.

Young Johnny- this man could rival Rain with his Ego. He gets jealous when people take your attention away from him.

-He is kinda an attention whore.

-he likes making sure people know you are his weather that be thought leaving marks on you, giving you gifts or always hanging off you.

-he's very hyper, he does calm down as he gets older but this man is very energetic and wants to fight any and everyone who flirts with you.

- man radiates the " I'm a kick your ass becuase I want to show off and so they can stare at my ass"

Older Johnny - older Johnny has alot more life experience, he doesn't get jealous as easy as he used to but he is very protective.

-Man's a Dilf he's knows what he wants and knows how to make people back off and leave you alone.

-will wrap a protective arm around you, place a kiss on your cheek and as you if this guy is annoying you.

-unlike his younger self he radiates "if you hurt my S/o I'm going to deck you into next Tuesday"

-------

Young Johnny

"Johnny!, Johnny are you ok?" The man looks up and smiles his face bloody. He pulls them into a hug kissing their forehead as he stands victorious.

"You know you don't have to fight every person who talks to me babe" they sighs wrapping their arms around his shoulders. Johnny laughs lightly as he picks his partner up and heads for their seats.

"Baby!, that guy slapped your ass what else what's I suppose to do, stand back smile and wave?" His lover gives him a worried smile. He leans down to kiss them into for them to push him away a little.

"Nuh uh your lip is busted you have a black eye, before anything, I am patching you up you gonk." They say to him as the pull out a handkerchief and begin to wipe the blood off his face.

"You know one to these days Johnny your gonna get into a fight that your not gonna win, and I'm gonna have to pick you broken and blooded body up and put you back together" they sigh givign him a quick peck on the lips. Johnny smiles brightly pulling them closer and deepening the kiss.

"Well as long as I have you to put me back together sweetheart then I'll happily enjoy every moment of it" he says which earns him a punch to the shoulder from his s/o

"Hey what was that for!" "Becuase your an idiot, but I guess your my idiot huh?" Johnny gives a lopsided smile to his lover pressing another kiss to thier lips.

"My hero huh?" He asks earning a snort from his lover before they cover their mouth.

------

Older Johnny

Music plays in the background of the little area that had been converted into an office for Johnny. Both himself and his S/o are working away filling out reports and fixing up files for his daughter.

"Baby do you have those report for me?" Johnny ask turning around to face his S/o. A small smirk crosses his lips as he sees them bent over a desk digging thought some boxes. He gets up quietly making his way over to them.

" already on your desk hun, along with the incident report from yesterday" they call back to him. They only forward feeling a set of hands grip their hips.

"Hum.. well I see another incident report coming up soon" he chuckles pulling them closer as the stand back up.

"Oh well you, get to do the paperwork this time babe" they say giving him a kiss on the cheek as they continue working thought files.

Johnny pulls them away front he table gentle and spins them around to the music softly dancing and swaying hips.

"Johnny, holding out on the good moves are we?" They ask with a chuckle pulling him in for a gentle kiss. He picks them up and sits them against the table hands roaming lightly.

" Yo!, I didn't know older me was getting it on with that hottie!" A very familiar voice calls out front he door way making both johnny and I groan.

"Kid you have five second to get the fuck out or I'm decking you into next tuesday" he says turning around and giving his younger self a death glare of a life time. His younger self take the hint and disappears but can be heard in the distant going off about it.

"God i hate him, he so insuffable" Johnny grumbles earning him a laugh from his partner. "Is that jealous I hear baby, do you miss your golden days?" His lover says trying to get under his skin.

"Not a chance, besides I doubt he'd be able to keep up with you" he chuckles. "Well I do have to say younger you is very much a brat. Glad to see you aged like fine wine" they reply pressing another kiss to his lips.

"Keep that up baby and I'll be railing you into tomorrow, this old man still have some life in him" he jokes earning him a look from his lover.

"Bring it on then hot stuff"

Kabal- Jealous and protective.

- kabal gets jealous when people over step their boundaries when it comes to his lover.

- he doesn't take shit from any one who wants to try and flaunt their good looks. He knows he looks like shit but he'll be damned if someone takes the one good thing he still has.

- he loves showing his S/o off. And spoiling them, but some people (Kano) decided to make cracks about it and he loses his shit at them.

- he loves cuddling with his partner to make sure they are safe.

- he hates having to leave for missions becuase he worries about them.

-has and will beat the shit out people who don't back down from flirting with is S/o even after they have stated they are claimed.

-been in to many brawls with Kano over the mans foul mouth when around his partner.

-sweet beef jerky man. You look after him and help him with things and he's gonna be puddy in you hands.

- please give him love man's been thought alot.

-------

"Sweetheart! Have yo uy seen my moisturiser?, I'm starting to flake again and it ain't pretty" Kabal yells our from the bedroom. His s/o quietly makes their way to the door way.

"Big box on the top shelf has a collection of them in it, I got a whole lot for you when I was shopping so we don't have another accident" they say walking up behind him and pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

"What would I do without you" he says leaning back into them lightly. They laugh lightly pressing a kiss to his neck and pulling away.

"Trip crash and burn, no pun intended baby. But that's mostly how it would go" they chuckle. He shakes his head and heads to the shelve with the box of lotions, moisturizers and pretty much any available skin care thing in it.

"Would you mind doing my back while I get what I can reach?" He ask lightly even tho he knows they would never pass down the opportunity to touch him. He strips off his shirt leaving on only what was necessary of his gear.

His s/o hovers over his back gently pouring moisturiser onto his back and lathering it up. Kabal sighs feeling his lovers hands gentle run over his back pressing into sore spots and flakey areas.

"Hey babe, I have some of the guys coming around tonight, just let me know if any of the bastards step out of line ok?" He ask looking over his shoulder to them.

"Ok baby, I'll let you know if I need you to knock Kano out again" this makes Kabal laugh as his lover continues to take care of his back.

After finishing up on his shoulders and back Label roles over onto so that he can face his lover. "Gods I love you, you know that" he says pulling them down to lay on his chest.

"Baby let me finish doing you moisturiser then you can cuddle ok" they say beginning to repeat the process again.

"Kabal you Cunt!, where you at?" Kano yells put from the kitchen before malign his way to the bed room to find Kabal laying down with his S/o on top of him. Kano leans against the wall taking a mouthful of beer before staring them down again.

"Your beers shit, get something decent like fucking XXXX gold or Iorn Jack becuase ethos is like drinking piss" Kano huffs as he finishes the bottle.

"Good to see you too Kano, you only one here so far?" Kabal as he sits up. His S/o moves from his lap and gives Kano a small wave.

"Hi Kano" "hey love, and yea only me here so far other fucks are probably pissed out of their guys, might show don't know wirh them fellas" Kano replys before heading back to the kitchen.

Kabal throws on a shirt and he and his S/o make their way to he kitchen to find Kano making himself at home.

"So you gonna break anyone else arm tonight becuase boys and I have bets it being Wade who has a go at em" Kano says, he opens another beer and puts his feet up on the table.

"Kano, feet off table. And if he decided he's gonna try it he's gonna get broken. Y/n is already aware" he explains earning a smile from his S/o.

"My bets on James, man's been getting hands. Remember Kano if he has a go and I break his nose you'll owe me" Y/n says wirh a bright smile.

"Hahah Kabal you got yourself one of a kind"

--------

Hasashi Hanzo- Jealous and protective.

-when Hanzo gets jealous a part of scorpion shows it's head. He's death glare is a killer.

- he tends to distance himself more becuase he does not wish to hurt his S/o

-other times he with become clingy becuase he just want to be close, he wants to tryvand prove to Himself that he is aloud to be happy again.

-his jealous stems from a few things but mainly his own thought. Nightmares and dreams cause him the most pain with it.

-and after all who wants to try and hit on Scorpions S/o other then Johnny. (Man ahs no care for his life)

-very beefy and warm man, needs a good hug and to be told he's doing well. He just wants someone to tell him he's doing great.

- man's a grumble blanket, his glare tells people to fuck off as it is. And not only that it's very well known that you are the partner of the Grandmaster of the Shirai Ryu.

-------

Hanzo's brow twitches as sweat roles down his face as he sleeps. Eyes flickering under his lids as he fights in his sleep. His S/o peacefully asleep beside him as he fights his dreams.

The room begins to heat up more then normal. Blankets scatter as Hanzo shoots ups his eyes glazed.

"You will not touch them!" He yells. His s/o shoots up blanket throw off them as they look to their lover.

"Hanzo!, baby, hey it's just a dream your ok" they say moving to him. His head shoots to them. His glazed eyes focused on them.

" Scorpion?, scorpion I need you to let Hanzo come back to me ok?" Their voice is gentle as they place their hands on his chest.

"I can not, you will get hurt, we must protect you" he says voice filled with pain as he continues to scan the room.

"Babe, we are in the fire gardens, in your room. Come back to me honey. What are five things you see?" They ask, scorpion twitches under their touch.

"I see you, Satoshi's baby blanket, the walls, our blankets, Harumi's orchid" he says as he pulls them closer his lover rest against his chest and his eyes fade back into the sweet chocolate brown.

"Now handsome four things you can hear" they say kissing thier lover softly. " I can hear cicadas, your voice, the wind and my heartbeat" he whispers. His lover runs thier hands thought his hair untangling small knots and curls in his hair.

"Now three things you can feel baby" they whisper to him as he pulls his lover to lay on his chest as he falls back onto the bed.

"Your lips, your heartbeat, your skin" he says curling up around his lover. "Baby, talk to me are you ok?" They ask kissing Hanzo softly on the cheeks and then his lips.

"Forgive my sweet love, I did not mean to scare you." He replys, they move to lay on top of Hanzo straddling him. "Hanzo, baby you don't very have to apologise for something like that, understand. You have been thought so much and I am never going to hold that against you. They are both quite for a moment.

"My dream, you were taken from me, forced to love another. I became jealous that someone had taken you from me, I let scorpion take over. But no matter how close I came to you I could never reach you" Y/n can see the tears shimmer in his eyes.

"Its ok hun, I'm not going anywhere, I'm right here with you. And I know you will fuck up anyone who tries to take me from you." They smile pressing their lips to his. Both humming in contentment.

"Let's go back to sleep baby, I'll keep away your demons" they whisper as he rest his head against their chest.

---------

Kuai Laing- Jealous and protective.

- Kuai out of the lot is a lot more closed off to jealous, he does experience it but stays quite about to msot times.

- he becomes very cuddly for the fact he doesn't wish to lose his lover.

- man can be scary when needed.

- he really is the definition of a polar bear. Cute cuddle but also ready to rip someone's face off if they hurt his family.

- kinda man who is really shy in person but is a monster in bed.

-him being jealous transfers to that he may not say it with words but his actions speak very loud.

--------

"Kuai, I've been looking for you" the cryomancer peaks up hearing his lovers voice. He turns to see them walking towards him. He's smiles lightly patting the spot beside him.

"Forgive me I've been meditating most of this morning" he says lightly. His lover moves to sit close to him, they place themself in his lap and wrap their arms around his shoulders.

"Now a little bird told me that you might be feeling down, am I correct?" Kuai smiles shaking his head.

"My live I have you now why would I be feeling down about the most precious thing I love" he says pulling them a little closer.

"Hmmm... well then I believe your shadow of a brother has been spreading rumours babe, sad you were a little jealous of him being back" at that Kuai sighs leaning his forehead against his lovers.

"I do not knwo why he spread rumours, I am quite happy to have him back, I do not particularly like the way he 'whores' himself out" the cryomancer replys earning him a small giggle.

"Has he tried to make a move on you?" It hurt him to ask, he didn't believe his beloved would go for his brother after choosing him for his personality and enjoying his company but he still wished to be sure.

"He's made a few.. comments but no hasn't tried to get in with me baby, besides I happen to enjoy my cryomancers shy, easy to rile up and a sweet kisser" they remark leaning down to pull him into a kiss. He returns it before pulling away.

"As much as. Would love for this to continue beloved, I do have work that had to be done." He sighs.

"I'll see you tonight them my handsome, strapping and gorgeous man" they say giving him one last kiss before disappearing.

"Bi-han we need to have a word"

[deleteddewewted]

Hey comadre! I saw you asked for a fluff request, and I came to deliver 💜 I think you might be intrigued by the idea!

Shinsou who has been bullied his whole life, with the bullying growing harsher his middle school years. When he begins his high school life in UA, he remains distant, not allowing himself for others to get close to him, and for them to hurt him, because he has developed that trauma. He then successfully transfers over to the Hero Course, and his seat partner is the chubby/curvy girl of the class. She is friendly and welcoming towards him, but he remains to give her the cold shoulder, although he saw her intentions genuine, but he still keeps his guard up. She then goes and sits with him during lunch, her explaining that she understands why he gives off the cold shoulder to his peers. She explains she has underwent being bullied herself, by her weight and such. She tells him that as time passed, she learned to love and accept herself for who she is, and offers to help Shinsou in a similar manner. To help him learn to trust people and she asks if he puked accept her as a friend. He accepts and their friendship grows, with him starting to develop feelings for her, and wants to spend more time with the person who saved him from his own troubles 💗

My heart and soul needed this, thank you comadre!💜

(I may or may not have used some of my personal experience being body shamed in here so....yeah, thats your heads up.)

Misery and Company

Emo/Himbo Shinsou x F! Reader (Reverse Comfort)

TW: Mentions of bullying, Mentions of Body Shaming, Leading on

He remembered the constant laughter that was present in his life. Everyone would assumed it was a great childhood but to him, to someone like him, it was never the paradise that it was thought to be. The laughter was at him not with him. Kids pointed their fingers towards him and blamed him for all of the problems that would happen throughout the school day.

“I didn’t do it!” As a child, he didn’t know any better. He assumed that he could scream and yell like every other kid and be listened to. He found out quickly that he didn’t get that right. The teacher quickly told him off and called his parents. They came to pick him up from school and started to ask all kinds of questions. Did your quirk go off? Why did you do it? Is it that hard to listen? He didn’t bother to try to make connections after that. Friends were a waste of time. A liability. An opportunity to suffer unnecessarily.

When Shinsou reached middle school he suffered from the increase of villain comments. His quirk became the center of attention, it didn’t matter if he had good grades or was nice to people. His quirk was the focus, always was.

“You can get away with everything you want!” He’s heard that one about a million times already. It always managed to irritate him how much people cared about what he did with it. He hated the eyes. The voices. It only made his internal monologue become aggressive with himself. The constant reminder that he was less than the others for being born with a quirk that used people. It made him want to scream his head off.

“Yeah, I’m aware. Um, can we stop talking about it now?” He wasn’t a pushover but he knew that he could just say what he wanted. He purposefully asked a question to get the other student to stop talking without using his quirk. The last tithing he wanted was for someone to accuse him of using his quirk on them.

That night, Shinsou worked on his homework at his desk. His parents were away on a work trip so he had the entire house to himself. He looked at the time and groaned when he realized it was already one in the morning. He walked into his bathrooms and looked for his toothbrush. When he looked up at the mirror, ready to brush his teeth, he couldn’t help and stare at himself. His eyes held bags under them, dark and heavy as if he hadn’t slept in days. The faint smudging of the eyeliner he put on only making his eyes look even worse. He was tired and alone. His parents weren’t there to comfort him and with his quirk making it difficult to connect with others, he had no one to speak with other than himself. He dropped his hand down and just stared at his reflection. The image became hazy as he continued to stare back at it.

His face felt warm. He couldn’t stop the river that flowed down his face. He didn’t ask for his quirk, he also didn’t ask to be born. Shinsou couldn’t stop the rattling within his chest nor the stuttered gasps as he tried to breathe. He looked up at his reflection again, this time noticing the red and swollen eyes that belong to him. That night, Shinsou laid down to sleep on top of the covers and stared blindly at the uncovered window. He vowed to never become attached again. Not to classmates, not to family, and definitely not any possible friends.

Going to UA was a dream come true for him, the ability to be closer to your heroic dreams was closer than ever, but not for him. Shinsou had to watch as the heor course students acted like entitled brats, everyone in the school bowing to them like they were some great thing. He hated watching them boast, hated everything about them, to be honest. He wanted nothing to do with them, so why did they want something to do with him?

“Uh, sorry but I was wondering if you’d like to sign this petition?” Shinsou looked up from the book he was reading and stared straight towards the holder of the voice. It was a short chubby girl with a clipboard in her hands. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for his answer to her question.

“No thanks.”

“It’s for a local shelter, it’ll help abused and abandoned pets find a good home-” Shinsou wanted to be left alone. He sighed out loud and closed his book while rubbing his eyes, the eyeliner smudging.

“I said no. Now leave me alone.” Shinsou watched as the girl flinched at his annoyed voice.

“S-sorry, I’ll just leave you alone.” She quickly walked away from him, nearly entering a jog as she left him behind. Shinsou couldn’t help but become disappointed with himself. The girl was being nice to him and he snapped at her. She wasn’t even benign annoying, he just felt tired. He could hear how some people around him mumbled about the exchange he packed his things up and left towards his class.

He did see the girl again from time to time. He found out she was in the hero course and that she was in the A class as well. He would spot her on occasion but he did interact with her during his hero course admissions test. She wore her hero costume with pride and honestly, he had to look away for a moment, she looked like power itself. He couldn’t help feel intimidated in her presence. She didn’t come up to him yet so he had to come up to her. He intended on apologizing for his behavior a few months back, he didn’t mean to snap at her and he never found the opportunity to do so.

You watched as the indigo-haired boy awkwardly made his way towards your group. He wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes but instead focused on the floor below him.

“Hi, I’m Shinsou Hitoshi.” He extended his hand out to you but you just stared at him like he grew a second head. He felt awkward again, he was expecting you to at least call him a dick but the silence made his stomach become tight.

“Nice to meet you Shinsou, I’m L/n Y/n.” You felt bad for being quiet for too long, you couldn’t help it. He was really pretty to look at especially since he wore eyeliner that sharpened the appearance of his eyes.

“Oh, uh yeah. I um, wanted to apologize for my attitude a while back. It was rude of me and uhh, I know that saying I was in a mood isn’t a good excuse but-”

“It’s fine, I get it. I can be annoying so it’s ok.” You gave him a bright smile and a clap on the back of his shoulder.

He tensed when he felt the heat of your hand on him, he couldn’t help but lean slightly into it. His ears reddened and not wanting to embarrass himself more than he did already, he quickly pulled his mask up to cover his ears and face.

“No- yeah- I mean no, you- you weren’t annoying, I was just in a mood and it accidentally let it out on you. Sorry about that.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at you briefly. You just smiled at him again and got closer to his person.

“Hey, do you mind if i-” You grabbed the bottom part of his mask and pulled it down slightly, your face closer than ever before to his own. He stopped breathing as you got closer, he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about his breath. He smelled like coffee and for some reason, it made him feel embarrassed if you were to found out about his dependency of it.

You reached out with your pinky and brushed some of the black flakes of his eyeliner away from his upper cheek. You blended the smudged eyeliner on the bottom of his eye out and pulled his mask up again to cover his face.

“There! Just wanted to clean up your makeup. It’s really well done, by the way, wish I could do my own eyeliner as clean as your own. Do you wear eyeshadow on the bottom lid or is it just eyeliner with you?” You weren’t mocking him for his dressing and styling choices, many of his old classmates did.

He told you about what products he uses and yes, he did use eyeshadow for his bottom lid. You just smiled at him and occasionally added what you used. He enjoyed talking to you, you were nice to him and allowed him to speak his mind. He couldn’t help but want to know more about you. Unfortunately, your conversation had to come to an end since his group was the first one up, but you both agreed to talk after all matches were over.

His second year at UA was better but he still felt awkward around everyone. Everyone, discluding Bakugou, was nice to him. You especially made it your duty to be around him all the time. He enjoyed your company but he found himself still pushing away from him at times. The constant lingering feeling of possible betrayal being prominent in all of your interactions. It didn’t matter how many times you helped him do his makeup or how many times he did your own, didn’t matter if he showed you his favorite video games to play, nor if he introduced you to his parents and had you in his room playing those same games with him for hours. He was still nervous, paranoid that you’ll stab him in the back. Scared that you’ll turn around and show your true colors. That you’ll take everything you know about him and tell everyone so you could all mock him again.

Shinsou, due to his fears, started to pull away from you. No more hanging out with him, no more doing each other’s makeup, no more eating lunch together. Shinsou ignored you every time you tried to speak with him, always turning himself away from you or being rude in some manner. It did discourage you at times, made you feel like you were back in middle school with the cute guys in your grade only speaking with you to make fun of your interests afterward. You thought that maybe he was going to be different but you guessed not. You kept away from him as you processed the situation but that also gave you the chance to watch him. You noticed that instead of sitting with your guy’s other classmates he would op to sit on his own within the cafeteria at a faraway table or somewhere else. You noticed that he not only avoided you but the rest of your classmates. He was back to how he was in his first year.

You couldn’t keep watching him be alone again, you didn’t want to leave him alone. You made up your mind and made your way towards Shinsou. He was sitting outside of the cafeteria eating his lunch while reading a book that was placed on his lap. He looked tense as he continued to read and nervous at any sound that made itself known. You felt bad for him, from what he told you about his own school experience, more of the lack of, you assumed that he was bullied for his quirk. He never used it on you and he never spoke much about it. He never gave you any details and never told you how his quirk activities, he just avoided the conversation entirely but he was always excited to listen to your own though.

“Shinsou.” You watched as the male jumped in his spot on the floor and direct himself towards you.

“Shinsou, can we talk for a bit?” He averted his eyes and began to pick his things from the floor, shaking his head as he did.

“N-no, sorry. I have to go-” You got in his way and crouched down to meet him at eye level.

“I know you have nowhere to be at. Please, talk to me for a bit.” You placed your hand on his own and stared at him. Shinsou didn’t want to meet your eyes. He didn’t want to see the disgust in them or the hatred you felt for him.

What he didn’t expect was for you to place your hand on his cheek and gently guide his gaze to your own. His eyes were wide and watery, he didn’t understand why you were being so gentle, so kind with him. Didn’t you want to be angry with him? Your own eyes were soft, a small smile present on your face.

“Shinsou, what’s wrong?” Your voice was gentle and your touch never leaving him. He took in a breath and spilled everything and all of his troubles to you. Once he finished, he was welcomed by a hug.

You pulled him into your own body and shared your warmth with him. You gently brushed his wild hair as you allowed him to cry to his heart’s content. He needed someone to listen to him, someone who would just let him talk. You were that person for him. Once he felt better, he pulled away from your person and rubbed his eyes. His eyeliner was running and smudging severely on his face. He pouted slightly at his destroyed makeup but then looked at your uniform. You had black smears all over your jacket and shirt.

“I-i’m sorry L/n. I didn’t mean to ruin your uniform.” You just chuckled and shook your head at him.

“It’s fine Shinsou, you needed to let it all out.” He began to take deeper breaths and eventually sat next to you. His head gently laying on top of your own.

“It… it was frustrating you know? I thought that I was the problem and I still feel like I am at times.”

“I get what you mean, I also had to deal with bullies.” Shinsou lifted his head and looked at you confused. You had to deal with bullies? Why? You were nice to everyone, why would anyone want to hurt you?

“I think it’s obvious as to why Shinsou.” Shit, did he say that out loud?

“Yes, you did.” You gave him another smile and took his hand. You compared him to your own. Your hand was smaller than his own but it was rounder, chubbier, just like the rest of you. You found it adorable how different the both of you were.

“I’m overweight, man. People tend to hold a preconceived idea of what overweight people are like.” Shinsou still couldn’t understand.

“So?  Why would anyone bully you for something you don’t have all that much control over?”

“Because they’re mean. It’s a power trip for them.” You began to play with his fingers, taking note of the muscles that you weren’t aware existed within them.

“I used to have a crush on this guy and for the longest time, my classmates made fun of me because of it. They always said that I was too fat for him or that id hurt him if I leaned onto him. Typical mean comments about my appearance and how I was unloved.” Shinsou began to frown and got closer to you. His body heat becoming a welcoming presence to you as you recounted your own struggles.

“Then one day he asked me to hang out with him. We ate lunch together and we spent time together. I thought he was interested in me just like I was interested in him. He once got close to my face and made it look like he was about to kiss me before reaching for something behind me. We laughed it off as an accident but I noticed the small blush on his face. I was excited.” You pressed on each of his fingernails and wiggled his fingers in between your pointer and thumb.

“I thought that this was it, he liked me back. Our school dance came and everyone was asking out their dates for it. I thought he was going to ask me to go with him but that didn’t happen. He pulled me towards him in the middle of class with everyone watching us, a lot of the other girls were jealous of me because of it.” You noticed the chipped nails polished on his nails and began to scratch it off.

“He cupped my face and pulled me closer to him. We were going to kiss.” You stopped playing with Shinsous hand. Your hand falling onto the ground limply.

“He gripped my face and pushed me away saying “Did you really think id like you? You’re such a joke L/n.” ” You pulled away from Shinsou, your hand rested on your lap instead of anywhere near his.

“I felt so alone, so gross, so….fat. It hurt but it was made worse because it was in front of everyone. Everyone saw how he treated me and made fun of me. No one did anything, not even as I ran away crying. Instead, I got comments about my weight. I got called some really mean names that day and the following. I didn’t go to my school’s dance, I didn’t want to be made fun of again.” You didn’t hear a thing from Shinsou. He just sat there looking at you like you were crazy.

“Their assholes.”

“I know.” You looked at him and smiled. He came closer to you, grabbing your hand from your lap and interlacing them in one another.

“But I don’t feel like that anymore. I don’t care is a better way to phrase it. People can have their opinions, either nice or mean. I can’t dictate that.” Shinsou scooted closer to you as you continued talking.

“But I can dictate the way I think about myself and the people I want to be around me.” Shinsou couldn’t help himself anymore.

He leaned in towards you and placed his hand on your cheek. His lips gently pressing onto your own and unmoving. You felt your heart fluttered but it quickly turned to amusement. He just pressed his lips to yours and wasn’t moving, He wasn’t moving. He had his eyes closed and pressed into you, it was beginning to bruise your lips. You pulled back slightly and looked at his face. He had his lips still puckered and his eyes closed. You giggled and quickly kissed him again before he pulled away. You on the other hand did move and deepened the kiss.

Shinsous heart soured as you kissed him back, his lips no longer hurting but feeling gently caressed by your own. He couldn’t help the small gasps that escape him nor the way he pulled you closer to him. When the two of you parted, Shinsou looked at you with sleepy eyes. He wanted this and he wanted more.

“I like you L/n.”

“I like you too Shinsou.”

[blackenedwhite97]

Coming Out [Poly! Erasermic x {Fem}Reader]

Hello! this was a requested fic from like before Christmas. I'M A MESS I KNOW I'M SORRY! I’ll be catching up at some point, I'm in my final sem at uni and have MAJOR senioritis. Me no do unless me have to. Instead, now I just spend my time staring at the existential abyss the threatens to swallow my ceiling and think about everything I'm procrastinating. But I digress...

Content Warning: This story is of a negative experience coming out as poly to your family, this deals with rejection from the reader's mother, father, and a grandparent. This story demonstrates Homophobia, xenophobia, traditionalist and conservative values and attitudes and may be triggering to some folks.

This story includes a Polyamorous relationship

Polyamory: the practice of engaging in multiple sexual relationships with the consent of all the people involved.

Word Count: 3.7 K (A baby story)

Y/N --- 4:06pm

Hey can my roomates come to dinner?

DAD --- 4:06

You mean the gays?

Y/M --- 4:08

Please don’t call them that. Neither of them are gay anyways, there’s more than just gay or straight.

DAD --- 4:10

Yeah whatever. Let your mom decide.

MOM --- 5:12

Sure, they can come.

Mom --- 5:23

Gma might be coming dinner tho. Maybe talk to them?

That conversation should have been enough of a warning for how the evening was going to transpire. At news of your grandmother attending dinner, you panicked and tried to back out of your plans. You had been growing steadily farther apart from your parents anyways, barely seeing them more that once a year if that. It’s not like they didn’t have their suspicions anyways, to them you were a single woman living in the big city sharing an apartment with two gay men. Not that they’d ever been to the apartment. If they had they might have notice that one of the two “bedrooms” was being used as an office. Earlier on in the relationship you were so deeply uncomfortable being around your parents alone, that you had Shouta come with you every visit because you were so paranoid you were just going to come out on the spot.

At first your parents were sure that you and Shouta were together. He had subconsciously cleaned up quite nice the first few times he met your parents anyways, wanting to make a good impression on them if you finally did tell them about your polyamorous relationship. Then as time went on you got busier and started to see them less. Shouta’s parents lived in the suburbs and you saw them on holidays, plus Shouta had come out to them as being bisexual a long time ago and hadn’t felt much pressure to hide the polyamorous nature of your relationship to begin with. Hizashi’s mom was still a city dweller in her 60’s and on top of doing the cute mom things like baking fantastic cookies and handing down family jewelry to the daughter in law, she’d also taken Hizashi and Shouta to their first pride in Tokyo and had an in-home recording studio where she recorded for local punk bands. She was, quite literally, a cool mom.

You gnawed vigorously at your thumbnail, not quiet biting the whole way through, instead riddling it with dents and cracks. Chewing your nails wasn’t a habit you’d always had, it became a sort of silent worry thing you started to do when you got to your agency and had to remain still and quiet during briefings, no matter how terrible the news was. Your ruined nail beds were an atrocity to Hizashi, who had paid several times for you to get a manicure to get your nails short and evenly trimmed so you could manage them on your own. You still somehow found a way to gnaw on the short squared off nubs of your nails though, and it drove him nuts. Shouta cared less, his hands were in ridiculous shape, he was callused and bruised, cracked and flaking all over the place and Hizashi would regularly force moisturizer on them. Shouta cared more about figure out the root stress, it’s not that Hizashi didn’t, he just didn’t know how to, so he settled for pampering you.

“It’s dead.” Hizashi huffed from the bedroom door. “Obliterated, actually.”

“Hmm?” You looked up from your phone, you hadn’t been reading any of the messages in the chat for a good few minutes and just let your eyes unfocus instead. You yanked your thumb from your mouth and hid it below the table like a child caught with a sweet they’d snuck from the kitchen before dinner, you knew he saw.

“Your nail.” Hizashi gently patted the end of his hair with his special fluffy towel that he’d convinced you and Shouta he needed to control his frizz (which he didn’t have) and padded towards the kitchen table where you sat. He placed a kiss on the top of your head as he strode around you.

“What’s up, love?” he murmured softly, leaning against the table next you. One of his legs propped up on the chair to your right and leaned down to look at your phone screen.

“This is going to go horribly.” You breathed, panicked as you set your phone down on the table.

“You don’t know that.” Hizashi looked back up at you and smiled sweetly.

“Not everyone’s mom is a cool rocker lady in her 60’s who lives in the heart of downtown still and is fully supportive of her child’s bisexual polyamorous relationship with their childhood best friend and an ex-small-town girl with an ultra-conservative family.” You huffed out in one long breath.

“That was oddly specific.” He chuckled softly. “What about Sho’s parents, they’re conservative?”

“Yeah, but his parents are at least polite and send us both Christmas gifts every year and keep any and all of their shittier opinions to themselves because they want their son to be happy.” You groaned dramatically, dropping your head onto his thigh, using the extra meat to muffle the noise.

“Y-your-” Hizashi’s leg twitched from the vibrations of your groan. “Your parents want you to be happy too, Y/n.”

You groaned into his thigh, trying to explain the difference between your parent’s and Shouta’s. Hizashi laughed and gently grabbed the side of your face, lifting it so you were no longer muffled by his leg.

“Try again.” He instructed.

“They only want me to be happy if it fits into their rigid frame of what acceptable happiness looks like.” You explained again.

“Hey,” Hizashi ran his thumb back and forth across your cheek, “have faith, baby. They’re your family, they love you.”

If only he’d been right.

Shouta was the know it all, the one that way always right. Hizashi on the other hand was quiet used to being the one that was not always right, he had no hubris about his intelligence what-so-ever. So much so that sometimes you and Shouta had to remind him that he was intelligent and offered a lot of knowledge and wisdom in many many ways: public speaking, social relationships, radio scripting, he spoke two languages fluently as well. However, this one-time Hizashi wished dearly that he had been right, that he was an insufferable know it all who never got it wrong. It was a different twisted feeling in his gut, sitting the back seat watching you try to keep it together in the front seat, than the usual mild embarrassment that faded after a couple of minutes when he was wrong about something. That was damn near luxurious compared to the painful knot tearing into his stomach.

The silence in the car was so dense and absolute that it almost physically gagged Hizashi and Shouta, the two of them were too afraid to say anything and break it. It felt as though the heavy silence was keeping you from breaking, as if it were applying enough pressure at all sides to keep the thin veneer of composure you were managing together. You felt it too, along with the heavy weight that was nearly crushing your chest, the thick doughy lump clogging your throat and the tremble in your lips. You took a deep breath, it getting caught halfway and freezing in to an unrealized sob that you pushed down.

Shouta huffed and pulled off to the side of the dark country road, slowing into the gravelly shoulder. He turned in his seat to face you, undoing his seat belt so he could fully turn his body. You kept your eyes out the window, trying with all your might not to let the tears that clouded your eyes to fall. You knew you’d need to cry about this, about your parents and their conditional love. You knew that this was something you would need to deal with, but you didn’t want to at this moment. You wanted to go home, take some sleeping medication and go to sleep, you wanted to wait until the open wound in your chest had stopped bleeding to begin treating it.

Your father was being facetious about your living arrangement as usual, whenever he was faced with Shouta and Hizashi his first reaction was to constantly point out that fact that you were a woman living with two men and that if they weren’t gay that one of them should have married you by now. Shouta and Hizashi had taken these comments like water rolling off of a duck’s back, Hizashi even grinned and mumbled something about your father tempting him. You could have kept your mouth shut, you could have kept your cool but Shouta’s hand was brushing against your thigh and you felt it tense into an annoyed fist. Something about Shouta’s minimal reaction lit a fire in you, more like an explosion. It was a surge of very sudden and very ferocious courage that lasted a split second and no longer. You’d practically shouted it, the ringing in your ears drowning whatever words you’d used out.

You were met with complete and utter silence, shock and fear thick in the air. You’d almost believed for a moment that you hadn’t done it, that you’d just shouted randomly and just scared everyone. But then your dad stood up, his shocked open mouth flattening out into a hard straight line, this jaw swelling as he clenched it.

“W-what?” he growled, stepping back from the table as if you were a threat.

You were ready to backtrack, you were so ready to just laugh and pretend you were fucking with him. But you spared a glance to Shouta and Hizashi, their faces pale and guilty. They, regardless of what you could say in an attempt to cover up what you’d just said, were basically admitting to it already. You instinctively shrunk back into your chair like you’d do when you were younger at the dinner table whenever something uncomfortable would come up. You could tell everyone was at a loss for words, the difference was that you were scared and at a loss for words, Shouta and Hizashi were shocked and at a loss for words and your father was steaming angry and at a loss for words.

Your mother, who had always been the least confrontational of the two turned away from you and almost in a show of disgust immediately went to comfort your grandmother. It was as if you were an afront to goodness, an act of moral atrocity being committed in front of them. Your father began to barrage you with passive aggressive questions and accusations towards Shouta and Hizashi. He was trying to understand while at the same time refusing to give you a chance to explain. You stopped listening after the first few sentences that came out of his mouth, falling back into an internal monologue filled with regret. He must have said something exceptionally terrible because in an instant Shouta was standing, his arm reaching out to separate you from him and he was shouting. Shouta never shouted, he barely voiced any form of annoyance or frustration in general when it wasn’t a learning moment for his students, but here he was on his feet volleying harsh word with your father.

Hizashi, you realized was attempting damage control, his hands raised and his voice lower than either of the other two men’s. You blinked back into the present, as noise filled your ears, you mother was crying, your father and Shouta were shouting and Hizashi was rambling panicked. You took a couple of deep breaths and stood up on shaky legs, gripping Shouta’s protective arm for support, and looked your father in the eyes. He faltered at the direct eye contact and you saw an opening where there was less shouting to contend with.

“Stop,” you hissed through gritted teeth. “this is why I never wanted to tell you! Why I was perfectly okay with living away from you guys for the rest- This is why I haven’t been home.”

Your mother gasped a ragged, tear-filled breath. She’d expressed before that she’d wished she could see you more often, that she’s noticed you’d been coming home less and less. You’d been good at covering it up, saying you were busy with work and simply couldn’t get the time off. You knew that what you’d just said hurt her, not in the way it should have. It hurt her because you’d just told them it was their fault that you felt unwelcomed here and not because you were afraid of your own parents.

“How long?” she breathed.

“Three years.” You sniffed, hand tightening around Shouta’s wrist.

“THREE?! THR-” your father bellowed in disbelief. “For three years they’ve been brainwashing and forcing themselves on you?!”

Suddenly you understood why Shouta had leapt up, you had just now caught up with the conversation. Red hot anger flared up in your chest, the mere insinuation that you were being forced in anyway to be with your partners filled you with utter rage.

“No!” You growled, for the first time in your life matching your father’s volume. “For three years they’ve been by my side, showing up at the hospital when I got hurt at work, celebrating my promotions at the agency, helping me make a home that I feel safe in and actually fucking caring about me!”

There was silence again, this one was thin but not light in anyway, like it was a delicate thread barely holding a great weight from falling and crushing you.

“We care for you.” You mother said darkly.

“No,” you swallowed hard, “you haven’t for a long time.”

“Get out.” You father growled.

Hizashi was already moving, grabbing your coats from the back of the chairs and pulling Shouta by the arm away from the table. It took you a good long second to move, even then it was because Shouta latched onto your shoulders and Hizashi tugged him along.

“I’m sorry.” Shouta whispered, his hand finding yours in your lap. You kept your eyes focused out the window at the pitch-black fields with barely visible for off golden dots of light. You couldn’t talk.

You heard Hizashi shuffling around in the back seat, scooting closer to you and his hand joined Shouta’s, pulling up onto the storage compartment between the seats. It was cracking, that veneer.

“It’s not your fault.” Hizashi murmured.

You sniffed hard, biting int you bottom lip. Of course, it wasn’t your fault that your parents didn’t accept you, that you weren’t good enough or right for them, that you weren’t on par with the apparent morality of the rest of the family. It wasn’t your fault that they were backwards people with terrible ideas of how a person should be. It still didn’t hurt any less that you couldn’t meet those backwards ideals, that you couldn’t be the right kind of person for them.

“Y/n,” Shouta whispered, gently grabbing your chin and turning your face towards them.

They were looking at you the way a mother looks at her crying baby in the first few months, the desperate need to connect and nurture glowing in their eyes. They were filled with worry, with pity, with understanding but also, with fear. No doubt, what had just happened had been traumatic for them too. Looking into their emotion filled eyes you felt that veneer shatter, falling away and unleashing that mournful sobbing that had been trapped inside.

Shouta pulled you towards him, holding you firmly to his chest placing his head atop yours. You vaguely felt Hizashi disappear from you for a moment, but you were too preoccupied with the trembling muscles seizing violently in your chest. Then you felt him sliding in behind you, only now realizing he’d stepped out of the car and slide in through your door as he shut it behind him. He draped himself over you rubbing circles into your back.

“It’s not your fault.” He murmured into your hair over and over again.

At first you didn’t really focus on it, thinking it idle words of comfort but the more he said the more it sunk in. The more your realized that you were holding onto the hope that there was something about this, about you, that you could fix. With every repetition of those four words that false hope chipped away and that heavy weight in your chest began to fall away. It was still painful, it still felt like you had a pen festering wound that you’d never fully heal from, but it also felt lighter. It felt as though a burden you’d believed was yours to bear was suddenly the responsibility of the many.

“You don’t have to change,” Shouta whispered softly as your sobs ebbed into weak beaths, “they do.”

That reignited some tears, to hear what you needed to said so plainly. Shouta was good at that, putting those intangible thoughts and feelings into plain words. You cried until the tears and the worry and the late hour caught up with you, until your head felt heavy and waterlogged and you slumped backwards into Hizashi sniffing. You cried until your wavering breaths evened out and your tired mind fell to silence. Hizashi pulled you into his lap and cradled you against him like a parent holding and oversized child, running his hand slowly through your hair.

When you awoke you were swaddled thoroughly with the fuzzy blanket from the couch Shouta hated because it shed and sandwiched between the two men who snored away. As you blinked in the early morning light that just barely peaked through the blinds you noticed the red rims around Hizashi’s eyes and deep-set circles under Shouta’s as if they both been awake all night. Shouta was still in his dress shirt and Hizashi had stripped down to his boxers and pulled his hair back into a sloppy bun. Neither were properly snoring which told they hadn’t been asleep for very long.

You tried to ignore what had happened last night, what had led to the heavy feeling in your head and crusty dry eyes and tight cheeks. You tried to pretend that they had stayed up for work, that they you had swaddled yourself up in the blanket nor because you were sad but because you just wanted to be cozy. Then you heard a phone vibrate on the nightstand and any and all work towards denial washed away as you dreaded checking it. It could just be a work thing, it could be Hizashi’s phone even though he’d never had it on silent even once since you’ve known him. It could have been Shouta’s vibrating against the wooden table even though you could see his slightly peeking out of his back pocket.

You sighed and sat up, daring the smallest of glances at the nightstand. It was your phone screen that was lit up, several notifications on the screen. You groaned and laid back down, scrunching your eyes shut begging for sleep to suddenly and miraculously take you. It buzzed again and you huffed. Fine. You’ll check it. I guess someone could be dying. I do stop that from happening for a living.

You very cautiously crawled over Hizashi and reached to get your phone, electing not to look at it until you settled back between your boys. You scrolled though your notifications, weather, news, a work email, a second email from a contact that made your blood run cold and three missed calls and two answering machine messages from the same contact. Grandma. Your hands trembled at you unlocked your phone and typed int your voicemail password. You held the phone up to you ear and listen to the first message which was more or less just some frustrated grandma noises and mumbles about the inconvenience of technology, followed briefly by a set of hellos. If you hadn’t been ready to shit yourself, you’d have laughed. Then the second played and you had to take a deep breath to hold yourself together enough to keep listening.

“Hello? Hello? Y/n? Oh shi- well this is just ridiculous. Y/n, I don’t know if you can hear me, or maybe this is your answering machine, I don’t know I can’t hear too well but-” her soft worn voice said into the phone, “I want you to know that I love you. Your parents love you too, even if they did not act like it tonight.”

She paused and your eyes welled up with tears, a lump forming in your throat. It was this strange feeling of pure sadness but also happiness and relief.

“Those boys,” she continued, “probably would have killed your father last night if they had the chance. I’m not saying I get it, but they sure do love you, sweetheart. I quite like the blond one he is very-”

The message cut off and the automated voice asked you what you wanted to do with the message. All you could do was laugh, laugh and cry. You were still sad, still in pain, but it was already starting to feel less life-ending.

“Hey,” Shouta mumbled blearily, “S’okay. I’m here.”

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close, trying to pull himself from sleep. You hugged him back and massaged the back of his scalp gently.

“Listen to this.” You sniffed.

He nodded and you pressed repeat, listening to the whole second message through again. You watched as a smile spread across his sleepy lips and he laughed softly. He pouted suddenly when it ended, his eyebrows pulling together as much as his drowsy state would let them.

“What?” you asked, worried he’d heard something you‘d missed.

“Why does she like Zash more?” he grumbled, barely awake now.

You smiled and curled into him, electing not to answer knowing that he wouldn’t like being told that Hizashi is more sociable than him. Besides, you smiled to yourself, he’d be asleep in a matter of seconds.

You were still hurt; you still had that big open wound in your chest. But with Shouta and Hizashi at your side you knew you’d heal; you knew they’d give you anything you needed. You knew that your grandmother was right, that these two boys loved you very much.

[alltooreid]

Invisible String

Although Spencer Reid and the Reader don’t find themselves in a romance with each other until well into their adulthood, their relationship has been decades in the making. Almost as if something as been pulling them together all these years. 

A/N: sorry for such a long wait but i’ve been struggling a lot mentally as of late. i hope you guys enjoy this one shot!! As always requests are open and heavily encouraged!! And of course this is inspired by the taylor swift song of the same name :)) Also keep in mind although the following scenes are heavily inspired by some scenes in Criminal Minds, elements of them have been slightly altered to fit in Y/N as a character.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Type: a cute strangers to lovers fluff fic!

Word Count: 3.9K

Content Warnings: typical criminal minds case discussion, mentions of child trafficking when discussing this case, but no real detail. slight spoilers for season eight (beginning maeve stuff) and tiny spoilers for season fifteen (briefly mentions max but nothing really important to the plot at all)

“Time, curious time Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs Were there clues I didn't see?”

You had met Spencer Reid 3 times before you had really met him.  

It was almost silly to think about it now. Now that you and Spencer have been dating for 3 years, it was strange to believe there were so many chances for you two to meet years earlier.

When you were sixteen years old, you got your first part time job. You worked at a self-serve frozen yogurt shop called Iced Dreams. You hated it so much. Your manager was a total creep, your older coworkers were rude and condescending to you, since you were one of the youngest people working there, but most of all you hated the uniforms.

Consisting of a very stupid looking hat, bright pink with randomly embrodiered teal patterns, an outdated bright teal shirt, it had been given to you from a dirty bin in the back, and judging by the sewn in shoulder pads, it had to be at least a couple decades old.

So one day, you didn’t wear the hat.

It wasn’t entirely purposeful. You couldn’t find it, you searched your room, you searched your car, so eventually you had to leave without it to prevent being late. Still, as you clocked it and passed the box of extras in the office something made you decide to leave it alone.

You were about 8 minutes into your shift when your manager approached you. “Y/N? Where’s your hat sweetheart?” You hated this man so much. You had gone to your parents time and time again, recounting his creepy behavior towards you and the other teenage girls who you worked with, but they refused to let you quit.

When you had started working there, he used to enforce this ridiculous rule that all the female workers had to wear skirts as part of their uniform, but you had gathered all the sixteen and seventeen year olds who worked there and all threatened to quit if he didn’t change the policy. So you were no stranger to breaking and defying the rules.  

“Yeah I couldn’t find it, sorry.” you shrugged.

He chuckled and reached his hat out to touch your face. You jerked back, you almost wanted to refuse to wear one of the stupid extra hats just so that you could get fired.

“Well, Y/N its policy sweetie. No matter how special you are to me you still need to wear the hat. There’s extras in the office.”

“No way I’m wearing one of those. I bet they have like lice or something.”

He pursed his lips and sighed “Well I suppose that beautiful hair is just too pretty to wear a used hat huh. . . What do you suggest? If you’re working you have to wear it.”

You laughed, “Well you could let me go home.”

He paused, “Why don’t you go sit in the office, I’ll come talk to you in a minute.”

So you did, for about 10 minutes you sat in the office, surrounded by frozen yogurt flavor marking posters and boxes of old uniforms, and each passing minute you feared for the worst. Maybe you were actually getting fired? You really didn’t want to go that far, because, as much as you hated it, you really needed this job.

When your manager finally came to talk to you he held a small salted caramel frozen yogurt, your personal favorite flavor, and a twenty dollar bill. He handed them both to you.

“You seem so stressed Y/N, why don’t you take the day and go get lunch. My treat,” he said, smiling that weird twisted smile that always made your full body shiver.

However you were broke as hell, and no teenager in their right mind would ever pass up free food, so you took it, grabbed your keys and started to leave

Yet as soon as you walked out the back door you dropped your frozen yogurt, cup fully upside down, onto the pavement. You cursed, you hadn’t even taken a bite of it yet, and it looked like he had put coconut flakes on it, and you loved coconut. Still, you had your twenty bucks, and that was a pretty sweet pay out considering you were only clocked in for about 20 minutes.

So you got Chinese food, and spent what was supposed to be your shift in the shopping mall across town, completely and blissfully unaware of the fact the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI was dragging your manager away in handcuffs.

➽───────────────❥

Young Spencer Reid had only joined the FBI about a month ago. Despite being a genius, and providing crucial information to the solving of cases, he was aware of the most obvious. He was only twenty two years old, and he was scrawny as hell.

He felt this intense need to prove himself, especially to make Gideon proud.

So when they got a case about a the kidnapping and sex trafficking of teenage girls, he saw it as something he could really involve himself in. Based on the profile, it wasn’t going to be a large, strong, confident unsub who Morgan needed to tackle. This man would be ugly sure, but he would be a manipulative mastermind. Reid could work with that, he could prove himself.

He surprised everyone with his sheer work ethic and determination to find this man, and through consistently revising and delivering the profile soon enough they got a hit. A young woman in her early twenties called the tipline and reported her own manager. Insisting he fit the profile perfectly, and described how strangely he treated the minors who worked there, and how he almost exclusively hired young girls, treated them great and then switched as soon as they became legal.

So Garcia did her magically digging, and soon enough the FBI was tearing up a frozen yogurt shop, looking for any evidence of pedophilia. Garcia was even brought along, as she was pivotal to discovering any secret files in his computer.

At first, all they could find were strange compilation videos and under employees skirts. Spencer, and the rest of the team, were struggling to connect how he could get so many videos from an angle like this without anyone noticing or reporting him, until Gideon uncovered an old dusty pair of shoes, in which the right one held a small camera at the toe.

Although this was absolutely disgusting, it wasn’t enough to prove he was running the ring or kidnapping the girls, so Garcia kept digging. Meanwhile, Spencer tried to make himself useful by checking out the back of the store.

That’s where he found your clock-out receipt.

“Hey guys, we might want to take a look at this,” he shouted out.

Morgan grabbed the paper from his hand, “Ok, I don’t get it kid, it’s trash.”

Spencer pointed to the details on the slip, “Yeah but it says here she clocked out 18 minutes ago after only working for 23 minutes and 46 seconds. If this guy is our unsub, this girl could be in a lot of trouble.”

“Maybe she’s still here, has anyone checked out the parking lot yet?”

Spencer shook his head, and followed Morgan out the back door. There they discovered some almost completely melted salted caramel frozen yogurt.

Morgan bent down to investigate, “Yeah, we gotta get this to the lab, but I can tell you right now that there’s clearly more than just coconut topping this yogurt. It also means we have another victim.”

Spencer crouched down as well, “Not necessarily.”

“What do you mean kid? We’re missing a teenage girl and we’ve already found illegal evidence on this guy's computer. She’s in trouble.”

“Well judging the shape and inscription of these pills it appears to be some pretty strong rohypnol, almost certainly prescription grade. And ingesting it like this means she probably would have begun to feel its effects fairly early, I would predict 15 minutes. She clocked out 18 minutes ago, so even if she left exactly at that time she would have certainly crashed her car on the way home. The nearest residence is 8 minutes away from here, we’re in a complete shopping district. There’s only two cars out here and neither have a passed out driver, so I would bet she didn’t eat any of it. Also, the only spoon out here is still wrapped in plastic, “ Spencer analyzed.

Morgan sighed, “Well what do we even do then?”

Before Spencer could answer Hotch opened the back door. “We got him.”

Spencer turned to Morgan, “I’m sure her phone number is somewhere inside, I say we call her and make sure she’s ok. She probably doesn’t even know this is happening right now.”

So he did find your phone number, and although he initially pushed the phone to Morgan, he just chuckled and pushed it back.

“No way pretty boy. You’re the know-it-all with all that profiling out there, you can call her,” and before he could protest Morgan left, so Spencer was left to call you.

And strangely, for it being the first time he would ever interact with the love of his life, he thought nothing of it.

And that was the first time you had met Spencer Reid.

➽───────────────❥

The second time was years and years later, when you were waitressing night shifts to make extra money. You had never forgotten meeting Spencer Reid the first time, but this was the first time you would ever see his face.

You were slightly concerned when you got a call from a man, whose name you had now long forgotten, claiming he worked for the FBI. Although you weren’t incredibly surprised to hear your manager committed such heinous crimes against children, you were taken aback by how close you had come to becoming one of his victims.

But that was 9 years ago. In your college days it became a fun story you told at frat parties, but you were 25 now. Sometimes you would think about the incident when you couldn’t sleep, and if you were feeling feisty you would use it as an icebreaker or a “two truths, one lie” statement, but otherwise you didn’t really think about it.

You had plenty of other things to worry about, in fact, that’s exactly why you worked so much. It was so much easier to forget when you were constantly preoccupied with complaining customers and terribly awkward blind dates.

You had just sat this man, incredibly handsome, however it was clear he was on some kind of date. His reservation was for two, and he spent way too much time adjusting his clothes and table setting for him to not be trying to impress someone special. He also brought a gift, which judging by the packaging and shape, seemed to be some kind of wrapped book.

Even though he was 15 minutes early for his own reservation, he still looked really nervous, almost like he already believed she might not show up. You couldn’t help yourself, you had to go talk to him.

“Anyone ever tell you you should model?” you started with.

He looked up “Excuse me?”

“Sorry for being so bold, you just look so familiar,” he weirdly sounded very familiar as well, but you didn’t tell him that. “Are you sure you haven’t modeled? You have excellent bone structure. I bet you could.”

He laughed to himself, “yeah I’m sure.”

“Well your date is very lucky either way. I wish I had a boyfriend as handsome as you. Actually I wish I had a boyfriend period, but that’s a whole other story.”

He chuckled, and although you knew in your heart that you shouldn’t be flirting with him considering he was 15 minutes away from being actively on a date talking to him made you feel something you hadn’t felt in a long time. “What happened with your boyfriend? Do I even dare ask?”

“Well I kind of always knew he wasn’t super interested in me, but I really liked him, so I did my best to ignore his wandering eyes,” you sighed. “That didn’t stop him from leaving me for his coworker though.”

“That’s terrible.”

You smirked, “That’s not even the worst part, he broke up with me over a 27 second phone call. He didn’t even let me respond, he just kind of hung up.”

“I’m sorry, no one deserves that. Especially not you. I’ve only been talking to you for a couple minutes and I can tell that.”

“Oh really? What makes you so sure?”

“I’m pretty good at reading people.”

You smiled, “Well I should probably stop flirting with you now, considering your date hasn’t even started yet. And don’t worry, she’ll show, you’re so handsome she’d be stupid not to.”

He looked confused. “You were flirting with me?”

You laughed, “I thought you were good at reading people?”

He smiled back at you, and it made your heart soar, this silly, pure goofy smile that made you want to replace his date and have dinner with him right then and there.

You walked back to your hostess stand. A couple minutes later you noticed the handsome stranger on the phone. You thought nothing of it until later when a woman came in, clearly nervous, holding a gift bag.

“Can you give this to Spencer Reid for me please?” You recognized the name, the man you were just speaking with had filed his reservation under it.

“Um, yeah sure, aren’t you going to go in? He’s at that table over the-” but before you could finish your sentence the woman was gone. Your heart sank, poor Spencer, how could someone drop their date off a gift but stand them up anyway? That’s just cold.

When you get up to bring the gift to him, he’s already heading out of the restaurant himself.

“Sir? Spencer? Dr. Reid?” he turned his head. “A lady came in and dropped this off for you.”

His face dropped, it almost looked like he was about to cry. “Thank you,” he said as he looked up at you before leaving.

He ran out the door, both gifts in hand and whipped his head around a few times before sighing and speeding off in one direction. Even before you learned what happened after that and leading up to it, you felt terrible for the handsome stranger.

How could you not for someone so clearly distressed? Someone so clearly in love?

➽───────────────❥

7 years and a divorce later you were spending your Saturday in a park, strangely contemplating love itself. Although you barely remember that night all those years ago when you spoke to Spencer, he did. Vividly. In fact, on this Saturday you both were in a public park, contemplating your many failed attempts at true love.

It was your first wedding anniversary without your husband. Although you had only been married for two years, you still were having a hard time navigating life without him. 

You started to wonder if you would ever find the true love you had been wishing for since your youth. Was 32 too late? Had you lived out all of your opportunities?

When you were little your mother had told you that all soulmates were attached at the left ring fingers, by small, incredibly thin strands of gold string, invisible to the naked eye. She insisted that these strings were constantly trying to pull you and your soulmate together, and that when life was ready for you two to meet, you would. 

Until then, you would have small, mindless interactions. Things you wouldn’t think about, maybe even things that weren’t interactions at all. You would get the same commercial jingle stuck in your head. You would both get an intense craving for the same food. You’d have the same dream. 

As a kid you were obsessed with this idea, you thought it was so romantic, and you fully believed everything your mom told you about it. You always asked her for more stories, and at bedtime you refused to sleep unless she would tell you more.

But now you were sure soulmates, true love even, didn’t exist. The invisible pretty gold strings your mother weaved fantastic stories with were completely fabricated. If they weren’t, you would have seen the clues by now.

Right?

➽───────────────❥

Spencer Reid was given an assignment from his therapist. He had to spend his Saturday off trying to interact with a stranger. Making friends with someone other than his colleagues may seem like a simple task for some, but it was something the young genius had almost no experience with.

He understood that it was probably for the best. He wasn’t exactly great with relationships of any kind, but especially not romantic ones. It didn’t take a genius to know that a couple of flirtations, a dead girlfriend he had only seen once, and a long time unrequited (or at least he thought unrequited) infatuation with his best friend and godsons’ mother was not a very great track record.

He, just like you, was also beginning to believe that he was hopeless when it came to love. That 38 was too old, that his time to meet someone and have the children he dreamed of had long passed.

But right as he was about to call JJ, to see if she would invite him in on the case Garcia had started to work on, he saw you.

Unlike you, he remembered your face and your interaction vividly. That almost date with Maeve was one of the biggest defining moments of his life, and what are the chances that the waitress from that very night was now less than 30 feet away from him, reading under the green leaves of a tree.

He wasn’t going to say anything, until he saw the book you were reading.

The Narrative of John Smith.

It must have been a sign, for what he wasn’t exactly sure yet, but it just had to mean something. The universe had to be reaching out to him, he had experienced crazier things.

And just as he was about to walk over to you, to close the gap between the gold strings tied around your ring fingers, a child interrupted his train of thought.

“That’s a strange haircut.”

➽───────────────❥

Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid were finally reuniting after many years. They barely got to see each other these days, but even though he was teaching and working at the BAU, Spencer still was willing to clear his schedule to second Derek suggested they meet up.

Morgan was excited as well, both to see his friend and to hopefully help him get a date. Sure, he had liked what he had heard about Max, but he wasn’t exactly surprised it had only lasted a couple months between her and Spencer. They just seemed too different.

Plus, now he got the chance to play wingman again, and he was ecstatic about that. Spencer not so much.

“I don’t know Morgan, it’s only been a couple months since we broke up. Wouldn’t it be too early to start talking to other people?”

“Pretty boy, you and I both know that the rate in which you’ve had relationships is not even close to the average. You need to balance that out somehow.”

Spencer sighed, he knew Derek was right, but he still felt strange.

“Morgan, have you ever heard of the red string of fate?”

“No, but I’m sure I’m about to hear all about it.”

“It’s an East Asian philosophy, based on the discovery that the ulnar artery connects the heart with the pinky finger, actually that’s where the belief in pinky promises come from. The reason it’s integrated in so many different cultures is that-”

“Kid, you’re losing me here,” Morgan interrupted. “Finish your thing about the string.”

“Oh yeah, sorry. It’s the idea that human relations are predestined by a red string that the gods tie to the pinky fingers of those who find each other in life. Legend has it that the two people connected by this thread will have an important story, regardless of the time, place or circumstances. The red string might get tangled, contracted or stretched, as surely often happens, but it can never break. Essentially, the idea is that although we might not realize it, our lives move in a pre-ordained direction, guided by invisible strings that are woven into the fabric of the Universe itself. And all the while, the red thread connecting us to our distant soulmates is getting shorter.”

“Well it’s an interesting theory kid, but it’s a lot to think about. I mean, we’re in a bar, let loose a little bit. Not every interaction has to be about getting closer to your soulmate. And sure, maybe you’ll meet them one day, maybe even soon. But you’re here now, and just because your one true love may not be, doesn’t mean it’s not worth it to be here.”

Spencer sighed, “You’re right. I don’t even know if I believe in that anyway, maybe I’m just looking for something to explain this all.

Derek patted his friend on the shoulder, “okay pretty ricky, this is how it’s about to go down. I’m going to buy you two drinks. You’re going to take both of them, and go find someone, anyone here to go talk to.”

“Ok, I think I can do that. Who?”

Derek looked around, trying to find who he believed would be the best match for his friend. “How about her?” he asked, pointing at you.

Spencer couldn’t believe it when he looked. There you were, the girl, the one he had met three times before, even if he could only remember two. The woman he knew was some sort of universe sent sign that Saturday he saw you underneath the greenery. The girl he was so close to talking to before he was interrupted by Max’s nephew. The woman who (and he obviously did not know this at the time) he would marry 3 years later. The one who would carefully knit the baby blankets for all of their friends and exes. The one who he would adopt 3 children with. The woman who, he was now sure, was at the other end of his invisible string. The girl he needed to talk to right now.

“Is it just me,” Morgan said, “Or does she look kind of familiar?”

“Yes,” Spencer responded, “yes she does.” He got up quickly and started making strides towards you.

“Wait!” Morgan called, “You forgot your drinks!”

“I don’t need them!” he shouted back. When he sat down next to you, you smiled. It made his heart soar, you had this silly, pure goofy smile that made him want to ask you out right then and there.

Instead he settled on the only conversation starter he could think of.

“Have you ever heard of the invisible string story?”

And you couldn’t help but laugh.

“A string that pulled me Out of all the wrong arms right into that dive bar Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons One single thread of gold tied me to you”

- Thank you for reading! Please reblog and let me know what you think :))

[legguk]

here I am again!! with chapter 2!!

( chapter 1 in case anyone missed it )

chapter 2: things are changing

word count: ~4,8k

——————

You were almost asleep, the waterfall sounds never failed to calm your soul, the distant symphony nature conceived you always following you throughout the day. Your stay at the Beneviento's state has been satisfactorily peaceful, your routine consisted of watching over Miss Beneviento and Miss Angie, administrate the house and cook for them; although you heard many legends and myths about the veiled woman, they all proved themselves wrong, Donna Beneviento was not a merciless sickening creature and Angie is not a disturbing – well, that's up to debate – maniac doll. They were kind, lovely, graceful, even. Energetic and serene, enthusiastic and gentle, intense yet lethargic; yes, those were Donna and Angie, opposites — The sun and the moon.

“Human! Donna requires your assistance!”

Ah, speaking of energetic. Angie hops through the garden to meet you sitting on a pile of soft snow, facing the waterfall, pleasantly starting the day.

“Donna needs someone to help with the fabric! Hey, are you hearing me?!” The doll pokes your right arm repeatedly, forcefully drawing your attention to her – if she had eyebrows, you can be certain they'd be very frowned now.

“Ah, yes, Miss Angie, I'm hearing you! I apologize for not responding at first” You support your hand on your thigh as you stand up, patting away any flakes on your work pants.

“Hm! I shall forgive you this time, human. But I won't have mercy next time!” It's the fourth time she says this. You play along, bowing to her as if she's the queen of the castle; her hands go to her hips, eyes closed, taking in the adoration you give her, silly little doll, if she only knew how she brightens up your day with only a few simple mannerisms.

You enter the house accompanied by Angie, the cozy ambiance greets you on a warm hug, contrasting the cold weather outside; the fireplace burns leisurely, the dancing flames sounds creating a piece of background music for this lovely morning. There's a certain smell in the air... Ah, chamomile tea and fresh chocolate and cinnamon cake, Donna's favorites – she must be in a good mood today – although you weren't expecting your lady to be baking, you were not going to complain, either.

“I thought you needed help with sewing, Miss Beneviento?” In a jump, she turns around, she must've not heard you coming in;

She lets out a long hum, probably calculating her next words “I did... Not... I apologize.”

You give her a reassuring smile and say there was no problem; the moment you were about to make your way out of the kitchen, a quiet 'Wait!' that was barely said out loud filled the air. “Perhaps... You would want to have some tea?”

The veiled woman sounded hesitant, yet full of determination... And honestly, how could you ever say no? Not just because the cake looks delicious, but because you know Donna made all this effort for you – she would never eat a whole cake by herself, she barely bakes anything since you came around... and did she ask Angie to come up with an excuse for you to get inside? – So it would not only be rude but also be very inconsiderate of you to refuse her request.

“I'd love to,” You say without hesitation.

All of the tension on the woman's shoulders went away, a relieved sigh left her lips as she settles the tea kettle on the table along with delicate ceramic cups – they were beautiful, elegant blue roses were painted along with the whole structure, a true artist's work – Oh, the cake looks divine, you cut a small piece for yourself, getting a small grunt of disapproval from Donna, who puts a larger piece on your plate - you return the favor, cutting a big piece for her as well - you both chuckle, it was moments like this that made you grateful for having her in your life. A lovely company, a thoughtful friend... You cherish each other, you know your place in her heart, and she knows hers in yours as well.

“Are you having a tea party without me?! The nerve!!” Angie stomps her way to the kitchen table, climbing on her high chair and facing you both on – what you believe is – disbelief;

“Oh please, Angie,” your lady says in a breathy response. She has lifted her veil to eat now, even though you've been here for several months and have seen Donna's face multiple times, you understand what her veil means to her and never once asked her to take it off; she's wearing it today because she's nervous – that explains the tea – Today the lords are having a meeting called by Mother Miranda herself to discuss 'village business'... You've been around long enough to know what they talk about in there; Beneviento never feels much thrilled to meet with her 'siblings'... And from what she says, you wouldn't be either! Imagine a 9'6 feet tall lady yelling at the robot man while a fish guy wants to participate in everything... You wonder what Miranda was thinking when she got them.

“Hey!! I'm talking!” The doll snapped you out of your thoughts about the soon event, making Donna giggle at your confused 'huh?'; she even finished her piece of cake already, for how long have they let you drift away?

“My apologies, I was quite distracted” Donna frowns her eyebrows for a microsecond, but decides not to say anything.

“Y’know, Donna was thinking of visiting the big lady this weekend” – Miss Angie rests her little chin on her hands, facing you.

“Oh, that's nice of you, I'm sure the girls are missing you two” You answer without putting much thought to it, as you take the fork with cake to your mouth.

Angie sighs comically loud, what made you look at her with a questioning look “Are you that dumb?? Donna is asking ya to come with us! Gosh!” ...Oh.

Oh

Donna wants you to go? That's– That's new. You're just a maid, you don't belong in the family visits... But now Donna is asking you to go. You feel your cheeks grow rosier as you almost choke on your fork – how embarrassing – “Ah, of course I will accompany you! Thank you for being kind enough to allow me to go, Donna”

She smiles, and that's when you smiled too, a peek of her face is all you need to go through your busy week - her serene expressions, the sweet sound of the giggles you steal from her, the way her nose scrunches when she's concentrated - you could spend the whole day listing every bit of her you wish you could frame and save from time's merciless tricks, but for now, her smile is all you want to focus on.

“Please, you're family.” The woman sounded so certain of what she just said, her voice was so filled with love you could almost grab it and keep it in your heart. You're family... that's how important you are to her now. Things are changing.

A few hours go by, the weather is significantly warmer outside, but still cold; the sky is bright grey, little snowflakes descending to meet the fresh layer of snow on the ground. Donna is putting on her veil and adjusting her doll's dress, the meeting will start soon; Lord Heisenberg will pick the girls up, take them there and bring them home safely, in return, you will go to his factory once a week to deliver some desserts and sweets and do him some company — he's a funny man... You worry about him sometimes, but he's not that bad, after all.

“Please take care, put on more clothes, and have the rest of the tea” Donna's left hand touches your shoulder while her right arm holds Angie close to her chest; you are all by the door, you're holding it open for them.

“Don’t worry my Lady, I will take care.” You give her a courtesy bow, receiving a light giggle as a response – the doll rolls her eyes and kicks her feet frenetically, telling Donna off for taking so long to get in Heisenberg's exquisite carriage. You wave at the man from afar, who lowers his hat a bit, his nice way of greeting you. The metal horses neigh and take off, the wagon disappearing into the horizon.

xxx

Angie's excited rambling saturates the once calm atmosphere of the house, Karl just dropped them off, coming to the door with them.

“Here they are, kid, no scratches.” He puts a cigar on his mouth and looks into the house through his dark glasses, taking in the ambiance.

“Why, thank you, Lord Heisenberg – ”

“Tsk. Cut the ‘Lord’ shit, just call me Karl.” He interrupted you, although he sounded annoyed, you knew he was befriending you “You’re basically family, no? We all know how Donna cares for you – honestly, it's annoying.”

“I- I’m sorry, what did you mean by that?” The man laughs at your rosy cheeks and stutters, waving his hand, he takes a drag of the cigar, walking to his carriage “I’ll be waiting for cookies, girl”.

You wave back, closing the door and looking at the living room, where your ladies are making themselves comfortable.

“You won't believe what happened today!! The bird lady gave us a baby!”

“Oh– Oh no, Angie– Miranda gave us a flask to take care of..”

“A baby!”

“...A flask”

“A baby in the flask!” – Donna sighs in defeat, rubbing her temples. Angie points to a square yellow flask on top of a ceramic counter, there's a label on it, you come closer to read it.. ‘Legs’.

...Legs? It can’t be actual – Oh, you're starting to feel sick. “Um... Donna...?'' You hesitantly look at the woman, who sighs heavily and lifts her veil, her expression says it all; her eyebrows frowned upwards, lips sealed and her eyes have a disappointed tint to it. She slowly nods, her gaze going from you to ‘Mother Miranda's gift’.

“I understand if you want me to put it away in the basement.” She's willing to do it for you? No, she's your lady, you should do it.

“I suppose I should–” Once again you are interrupted, this time by the eager doll, who jumps in your arms with the flask on her hands – When did she get it? How did you not see her? – “I hope Ethan won’t try to take it back!” Your head tilts to the side, a silent question to both of the girls.

“Ahem... Ethan is... Rose's father... And Rose is, well...” – Oh, heavens. – “Mother captured him and Heisenberg made him go through a ..‘death maze’..” Donna's fingers go up and down on a quotation mark sign.

“But he ran away!!” — A dense silence fell onto the room, the atmosphere suddenly grew uncomfortable, at least for you.

“Are you alrighty?” Angie turns to face you, her eyes traveling your whole face, your expression is blank now; what the hell was going on? This is all too much to take in at once.

“Is he dangerous?” That was the only thing you managed to say among so many questions you wanted to ask Donna.

“Well... He did escape Heisenberg's plan...” Then he is, that's what she's saying.

“How long ago was that?”

“The escape? two hours or so! We stayed there with Heisenberg trying to find out what he did wrong, dumb metal man...” You hum, your semblance should look horribly tense, because the next thing you remember was Donna's hand being so lightly placed on your left arm as if you were a shattered porcelain doll about to break with any rougher contact.

“Miss Angie, would you mind giving us a moment to speak in private?” – You lower the doll and take the flask from her hands.

“Ya know Donna and I are connected, right?” The smaller girl was quickly taken out of the room by her master — and you swear you heard a quiet ‘shoo, shoo’. The lady of the house now stands in front of you, a concerned look on her face, matching yours.

“Miss Donna, I'm worried about this whole situation... Maybe we should be careful. Do you understand what I mean?”

“I am afraid I do...” She looked nervous, her fingers fidgeting and interlocking with themselves; there's silence for a long moment, both of you meticulously measuring your next words, surprisingly, Donna is the first to speak; with a heavy sigh, she stands up straighter.

“If anything happens, you must go to the castle, please.”

“But my lady—”

“Alcina will know what to do, that man won't get past her state, her girls are probably hunting him now – if they haven't found him already. Still, if something happens to me or Angie, you know who to ask for help, okay?” — You nod — “Promise me, please.”

“...I promise.”

How you were going to regret this later.

She shyly smiles with the corners of her mouth as you take her hands in yours, your way of saying ‘everything will be alright’. The woman opened her mouth to say something, but her words died in the air, her sudden frozen reaction sent chills down your spine – what's happening? – she looks straight at the door, her semblance growing more and more despairing.

“Miss Beneviento?”

...

“My lady?”

...

“Donna?!”

Her gaze hesitantly made its way from the door and fell upon you, her hands are slightly shaking – is she starting to hyperventilate? – she tried to speak, but not even a whisper was heard. After a few tries, her shaky and breathy voice met your ears – “He’s here.”

You are petrified, the grip your hands have on hers grows tighter, what does she mean, he's here? He can't be here. That would mean getting past House Dimitrescu and the only way someone could do that is by k—

Oh no...

You can tell that is exactly what Donna is thinking about as tears threaten to fall from her glossy eyes. Lady Dimitrescu can't be... dead... can she? What about her daughters? Oh, poor things...

“You must go.” Your lady's voice got your attention again, her trembling tone barely allowing her to properly speak, so she led you by the hand to a room with aid kits and hand-made medicines; she handed you a bag containing some of it and pointed to the door.

...Is... Is this how she is going to send you off?... Not even a ‘goodbye’, or a handshake, at the very least? Your eyebrows frown and your lips part open, you hold the bag against your chest closer to you. “...My lady..?” Now your voice is trembling as well. She avoids your gaze, standing firmly at the same spot.

She calls Angie, who floats towards you, pushing you through the house to the front door. “I’m sorry, but ya promised.”

She and the other dolls corner you at the door, your back meeting the hardwood board; you can hear your heart shattering as you're being so abruptly banished from the house.

“You can't even say something?! After all we've been through? Is this really how you want to send me away?!... Please, Donna.”

After overlong minutes of deafening silence and a torturing lack of response, you see a now veiled figure stand in front of you, a few meters away; her hands are by her sides, fidgeting with her dress' cloth, her head hangs low, her gaze meeting the floor.

“I didn't know how to...” she murmured.

You feel warm tears wet your eyes as you walk confident steps toward the woman you care so much for – you leave the carrier on the floor – your arms are wide open, embracing her as you bury your face in the crook of her neck; some seconds pass by before her own hands go up to your back and grab your clothes — she's crying on your shoulder and she's soaking it, but you don't care because you're also damping her dress. What felt like an eternity as you were hugging went by too fast, you gradually drift away from each other's embrace, slowly picking up the bag and snuffling, you know you can't stay there; if there's any chance of Donna surviving this, it depends on you.

You hug Angie one last time, the other dolls gather around you and their little arms do their best trying to hold you too, how you loved Donna's marvelous inventions. They all follow you to the back door – where you would try not to cross paths with Ethan – You grab the bag tight, you're leaving.

“I will come back.” You smile as a reassurance, hesitantly going through the door and closing it, you breathe in sharply – can't stop now.

Donna watches you say your last words to her and smiles morosely, waving at the closed-door – “Please don't...”

You were almost crossing the bridge to leave Beneviento's state, everything was going fine, the man didn't seem to show up... Maybe Donna was just mistaken and everything is alright.

— But like a shot, Angie's maniac laughter gets to your ears and smashes any kind of hope you had of Ethan ignoring their house. You hold yourself, Angie's threats can be heard from here; you know Donna won't be able to hold him for much longer, you must be faster.

xxxx

“Lady Dimitrescu!”

You're here. You're finally here. But what the hell happened here?

The chilly air makes your lips tremble a bit, your arms instantly hugging yourself; walking here was no easy task, but that's none of your concern anymore. You go through one of the castle's demolished walls, you look up, there's a hole in the roof and the levels above, just beneath it there's a... carcass of God knows what, although it looks like a rotting dragon. — Oh God, did it kill Lady Dimitrescu?.. Or perhaps she killed it?

You keep marching carefully yet hurriedly; you find the doors open and the handles smeared with blood, feeling apprehensiveness tightening your chest, you make your way inside of the castle. You look around and process the ambiance, the unexpected warm atmosphere of the house falls upon you like a blanket, but the comfortable feeling disappears the moment you see blood splashed all over the walls, corpses of lycans and monsters ripen in half and splayed on the floor... A crimson path marks its way through the rooms, and maybe you should follow it.

“Lady Dimitrescu?”

As you follow the sanguine liquid trail, you spot a huge stiff figure laying on the floor, covered in wounds and painted scarlet red. You rush to help her, not even certain if she was still alive.

“My lady!”

She grunts, a surprisingly low growl leaves her lips as she sits up, holding onto a cloth around her body for dear life, you walk closer to her slowly and steadily, but her cry of pain as she holds a wound on her side makes you run to her – how it pains you to see someone like this. Yet, you take quick steps back and almost freeze in place when she unleashes her terrorizing long and sharp claws, why is she doing this? You're trying to help, and she needs it.

You bring your hand to your chest, not because you're afraid, but because you feel your heart beating so fast it might explode. – “Please, Lady Dimitrescu, let me help!”

“Out.”

Her voice was like a rumble of thunder and it reverberated through your whole body, giving you goosebumps; for a moment, all you could do was obey and step away, your gaze still fixated on her, but something clicked in your mind — you made a promise.

You can see a clear change in the woman's expression as you stand your ground.

“Leave. I will not repeat myself.”

You can't go, even though you truly want to, you want to go back to your Misses, you want to run away from this woman who might behead you any instant, you want to leave; all this flashes in your mind as you look at the big main doors. You grab the clothes on your chest with an absurd strength, come on, you need to be brave now. You sigh, Donna has no idea of the impact she has on your life.

“Allow me to help.” You try to sound certain, but the thought of Donna and Angie invades your mind and brings you to the verge of tears again.

Feet taking more steps closer to the Lady, you can't look at her, not like this, almost crying, that'd be pathetic.

Although it seemed impossible, her nails grew longer and her eyes were intensely trying to burn holes in your head, she is indeed terrifying, but you must not fear her now, you trust Donna, she said Alcina would help. You move your arms to the front of your body as a peace sign, you don't want to cause any harm. Still, she shows her teeth and looks at you with a feral cast, like a beast ready to devour its prey. You gulp, just a few more steps and—

An unhesitating metal swing sound cuts through the air; you scream, you shout at the top of your lungs as you feel her cold claws rip your face and throw you away with much force. Hot blood squirts and spills from your face and chest — you can't make a noise anymore, your lips are parted, mouth open, searching for the air you suddenly don't have anymore, your hands go to your face, trying to figure out either to press your wounds or hide it from the woman. You spend some more moments in anguish, trying to find your voice, but not even a whisper would make its way out; you were struggling to open your left eye, it hurts so much, everything hurts, burns, aches — pain washes over you and adrenaline runs fast in your veins. A raspy and agonizing scream builds up in your chest and leaves your throat way louder than you expected, getting the Lady's attention. Good.

Stupid loyalty, foolish attachment, cursed be all the fondness in your heart that is making you do this. You need to do this, don't forget why you're here. Your shaky hands reach for your bag, pulling out a flask of treatment disinfectant, you assemble your last strengths to crawl your way to her and kneel up, stretching the hand with the flask out; you can't stay like this for long, your body is giving up on you – the moment she takes the medicine, you collapse right in front of her, not even caring about being safe or not.

xxxx

It's dark. Cold. Unbelievably silent. You’re alone now, only you and the abandoned hopes that still wander above your head, both yours and hers — speaking of her, where is Lady Dimitrescu? You need her help. but as it seems, you must aid her first — You breathe stiffly and out of tempo, your clothes and hair are drenched, and your face has a bit of crust on it, probably dry blood.

Elbows up first, then shoulders, push your back up and now you’re on your hands and knees, still facing the floor; it all still hurts, your body aches from being so brutally tossed at the floor. You can’t move nor feel your face — not much of a good sign — Your left eye is locked shut, God knows what will happen if you try to open it. Your vision is blurry and dark, as if it’s dirty, which makes sense if you consider all the blood in your face; you cannot see well and… Perhaps, your left eye might go blind... — let’s pray it doesn’t turn that way.

From a pool of blood underneath you, there's your reflected image, you make some effort to see the damage that woman did to you: three big claw marks cuts through your face, one striked your lips, cutting up at a point you can see part of your gum, the other is right in the center, it striked the bridge of your nose and your left eye, and the last one got the side of your forehead and a bit of your hairline. Well… Let’s focus on the not so bad things for now.— At least your body and hair are fairly fine.

A small drop that hits the pool’s liquid and creates small scarlet waves makes you notice you have been crying during this whole process, tears washing over your wounds and making them sting, only to find their way into the crimson beneath you. You take your time at this position, everything is so quiet, so peaceful, the wind and the birds chirping try to fill in the devastating mourning and obscure silence of the castle — they don’t succeed.

… Now, thinking about it, you don’t want to keep facing your — shattered and ruined — reflection, so you heavily exchange your weight to your legs, sitting on your knees.

Air escapes your lungs for a millisecond as your gaze meets the lady of the house — was she watching you the entire time? How did you not notice her? Heard her? — She’s standing away from you, almost hiding in the shadows; at some point of your unconsciousness, she must have gone to her chambers since she got rid of those bloody sheets that wrapped her and is now wearing a proper robe that cascades to the floor.

Neither of you dares to break eye contact — an unspoken dialogue — Alcina has a dreadful look on her eyes as if she’ll murder you right this instant; now that you realize, she’s clean, although her hand still presses the injury on her side, it must be a severe one, as she looks healed from all the others. You decide to stand on your feet, your shaky legs not collaborating; your body is still limp, your joints hurt and there’s this constant pain in your lungs as you breathe, however, you keep your gaze locked with hers. The moment you opened your mouth to speak, she abruptly interrupted you.

“I shall give you one chance. Who are you and what are you doing at my house?”

Her words were like a knife and her tone was a flame burning you alive, her frowned eyebrows and threatening eyes sent shivers down your body — that or the excruciating wintry breeze that kisses your injuries — you are petrified in place. You gulp, your mouth opens and closes multiple times, but nothing comes out, nothing but only a whisper: “Donna...”

Her eyes squint and her lips form a pout, she walks closer to you, bending her torso so she meets your face.

“You know Donna Beneviento?” — You nod twice.

A hum leaves her throat but she doesn’t look any less suspicious of you, she grabs the sides of your face, carefully enough to not open your wounds any further, and brings you closer to her by lifting you at a point your feet barely touch the floor — how little effort it took an injured woman to do this, well, not any woman, she’s Lady Dimitrescu. Who is about to behead you if you don’t decide to speak — Yet, she stops and stares deep into your soul, a command: proceed.

“I-I was sent by Lady Beneviento” You stutter so much you need to take a deep breath before continuing. “She needs help, Ethan is—”

“Ethan?”

“Yes, Ethan Winters, he found them and n—” She suddenly drops you, the thud of your body hitting the ground makes you gasp for a second, you couldn't even hold yourself up. She stands straighter now, her expression is cold and serious as she looks forward — what is she wondering about? Will she help you? She takes her time staring at the horizon, time enough for you to slowly pick yourself up, limps slightly trembling.

A heavy and low sigh fills the air as she closes her eyes, arms hanging on her sides, as her golden gaze meets you again, you almost frown your eyebrows seeing how unexpectedly her expression changed. She was so revengeful and ferocious a few moments ago, now she looks… fatigued — shattered, if you will — . The woman unhurriedly walks out of the room, leaving you without a proper response. Will she help? Will she not? Good lord, all this tension even made you forget the pain you find yourself in. Perhaps the medicines you brought will do better for yourself than for her. You bury your hand inside of your bag and pull out some pills and flasks for your injuries, following Alcina right away, clumsily sprinting to match her quick pace.

“Lady Dimitrescu! Wait, please!”

——————

heeyyaa I actually posted chapter 2!! yk the drill, if you read it till here, thank you and I love you!! please like and/or reblog if you want me to post the next chapter!!

( posted on Ao3! Name: “The woman in your castle” )

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Fully Completely 3

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), violence, mutual irritation, harassment

This is dark!Loki x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s a new face in Birch and he’s come to haunt your door.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, and Little Bones

Note: On to part three. Sorry for being a human disaster.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 3: Or it will move right through me

💀💀💀

Jerome annoyed you as he picked through your tool box and clicked the ratchet noisily. He was excited but impatient and complained that you were taking so long. You told him if he wanted to pay out of pocket for labour, you could finish faster. 

You sat by his bike, parts strewn at your feet, and bent your head to look under the tank. You still had a lot to go and hadn’t yet added anymore of the gross chrome to the frame.

“Do you realise how filthy this is gonna get?” you huffed as you sat up and leaned your elbows on your legs, “not to mention how ridiculous it looks.”

“I like it. It’s just my style,” your brother grinned, “I don’t remember you spending this much time on Bucky’s ride and you and him--”

“He had me replace the tailpipe, you want nothing short of a rebuild,” you scoffed, “and you’re not the boss.”

“Don’t remind me,” he rolled his eyes, “guess it could be worse though. It could be Steve.”

“Thank god it’s not,” you chuckled, “I don’t know how many women had to toss beer in his face before he latched onto that mousy one at the bakery.”

“She’s nice,” Jerome shrugged, “far as I know. She doesn’t talk to anyone but Steve.”

“I wonder why,” you tisked, “he has insecurity written across his forehead.”

The tinny bell rang and the door whooshed open as the wind caught it. Jerome glanced over and dropped the ratchet noisily into the drawer of the tool box. You growled in warning as you spent much of your spare cash on those. He apologised quietly as he squared his shoulders at the man who appeared.

“Hey,” Bucky wiped the flakes from his hair and blew out a shiver.

“Bucky,” Jerome said rigidly.

The other man nodded and stepped further inside the garage. He shoved his hands in his pockets and paced aimlessly around the concrete floor. You watched him as you fiddled with the bolt in your hand.

“You wanna head down to the bar?” It wasn’t a question as Bucky came to face you, “I gotta talk to your sister.”

“Sure,” Jerome replied sharply, “you got it, boss.”

Bucky grumbled and waited for him to leave. He sniffed and kicked his toe into the floor.

“So… what’re you doing here? Been a while so must be urgent,” you sat up on the rolling stool and stretched your back.

“The whole town’s talking about it. You fighting him,” his brows drew together, “I told you I’d take care of him.”

“You didn’t,” you said evenly, “so I did.”

“I talked to him--”

“And said what?” you snorted.

“Look, you don’t understand. You said it yourself, you don’t care about my business. You don’t get what’s going on but what I need from him is bigger than your temper.”

“Excuse me? This is my fault? He broke into my shop, he followed me from that diner and he put his hands on me,” you stood and tossed the bolt away, “what do you want me to do, Buck?”

“First, I want you to remind yourself who I am. We’re not fucking anymore so that mouth isn’t as cute,” he warned, “and I want you to play nice.”

“All you have to do is keep him away from me. How hard is that for a man like you, huh? You’re the big dog.”

“Watch it,” he pointed at you, “I won’t tell you again.”

“He’s here to deal with you, not me,” you insisted, “he grabbed me, I defended myself, and I’ll do it again.”

“This isn’t grade school anymore, you can’t fight the boys,” he sighed.

“What are you saying?”

He was silent as his jaw ticked and his blue eyes strayed to the ceiling. You stepped closer and gripped your hips as you stared him down.

“There’s nothing else I can do for you. Nothing else I will do. He’s your problem.”

He met your glare and you scoffed in disgust, “you’re fucking serious? What do these idiots have on you?”

“It’s not what they have on me, it’s what I want from them. I’m planning for something bigger than Birch, that means there’s gonna be some sacrifices,” he shrugged.

“Sacrifices? Is that what you call it? Well, here’s one for you, the next time you get a little scuff on your tank or your headlight starts to flicker, you can head down to Carl’s,” you scowled.

“Don’t do this,” he gritted through his teeth.

“I can get business without you. I do better work than Carl, you know that. So go, I’ll deal with that asshole on my own, how I see fit.”

He inhaled and lifted his chin. He closed his eyes and thought. 

“Damn it,” he swore, “you can’t make anything fucking easy. What is it with you women and your god damn--” he lifted his hand and stopped himself, “you get in the way of my business, and you won’t be so worried about Loki.”

“Oh yeah? That’s what he said about you,” you mocked, “what’s with you men and your egos?”

His lip curled and he breathed through his teeth. His eyes lit up and he punched his palm as he turned away quickly.

“I hope he has his fun with you. Maybe he can fuck some sense into you,” Bucky growled, “God knows I tried.”

“You weren’t that good,” you snipped.

He kicked the shelf of wipers hung near the front of the shop and grunted. He stormed to the doorway and stopped to look back at you.

“You’ll be wishing it was me…” he hissed.

He waved you off and continued through the front door, slamming it behind him loudly. You stared at the scattered packages of wipers and bit down on your tongue. You wanted to run out and strangle that idiot but you knew how he could be. It was the reason you broke off your little fling; he was too much like you. Hard-headed and volatile.

💀

You weren’t going to change just because the town was overrun by asshole men. You were standing your ground and that meant you were going to finish your club sandwich and enjoy one lunch without interruption. 

The café was busier that day as the snowfall dwindled and the streets were mostly cleared as the plows made their regular rounds. You looked through the window as the school kids stopped by the bakery for hot drinks on their lunch and circled the rim of your mug with your fingertip. You sensed it was only the lull before the storm.

Further down you could see the corner of The Asp and heard a rumbling engine. Your shop remained empty except for Jerome’s bike. Since Bucky’s visit, you were too worked up to concentrate anyway. You wanted to take your wrench and knock every man in town in the head with it.

Nora brought your sandwich as Kimmie didn’t work on the weekends and your side of soup. You would eat both and leave satisfied. You wouldn’t let anyone ruin your day off. Well, not that you had very much to do aside from that.

You dipped your crusts in the tomato soup and stared at the seat across from you. Empty. Perfect.

You scooped the last of the bowl into your mouth and wiped your lips with the napkin. You stood and gulped up your coffee. You left money on the table and headed out. A peaceful, solitary lunch all to yourself.

You skipped the shop and continued down the street. You pushed into the hobby shop you rarely ventured into, more a bookshop if you were honest. You greeted the man at the counter with a smile. When you were a girl, you remembered he ordered you a special set of paints as the ones in his store were all dried up. Lu, you recalled his name.

You went to the shelves of models and looked over the new arrivals. You took the Smokey and the Bandit Trans Am off the shelf and smirked. Your father had one just like it when you were a kid. It wasn’t exactly new. You grabbed a bottle of black paint with it, always running low on the stuff, and headed for the counter.

Lu punched the buttons on his till and you heard a creak. Light footsteps emerged from the basement of used books as you opened your wallet.

“I didn’t take you as bookish,” Loki’s voice made you cringe.

You didn’t answer and counted out the bills for your purchase, “actually, you got any glue? I didn’t see any on the shelf.”

“Hmm, oh,” Lu turned and bent to reach into a box, “haven’t stocked up but these came in just before the storm.”

He added the orange and white tube to your bag and you added another bill. He counted out your change and handed it to you.

“Quite interesting what small towns can hide,” Loki didn’t wait to step up to counter and stood close, his sleeve against yours, “An antique edition of Whitman. One of the only Americans I read.”

You looked down at the worn tome, the edges fraying and the letters faded. It was marked up to a couple hundred. You could appreciate a love for reading but you weren’t entirely sure some old paper was worth all that.

“I’ll need the reading material as my visit has been prolonged,” he mused as you grabbed your bag and headed for the door, “my brother is due to return so I will stay in his place… get to know the town of Birch more intimately.”

You hid your disgust at his words and continued out the door. His exaggerated tones stuck in your head as you passed the window and absently swung your bag. You hated him. You really did. You should have bashed him over the head with that dumb book. 

You thought of that day in the snow and smiled. You knew that shame lingered in him. You would have no problem repeating that scene.

You came up to your shop and stopped short. The burly redhead who arrived with the pestilent man stood at your door, peering in through the window, angling his head as he tried to see around the blinds. You cleared your throat as you neared.

“Something I can help you with?” you asked dully.

“Oh, ah,” he turned and laughed at himself, “I thought… Loki, I thought he’d be here.”

“No. He wouldn’t be,” you said, “he’s down at the book shop.”

“Thanks. He apologise?” He prodded.

“You seem to know him well. You think he did?” you challenged.

“Ah, nah,” he smiled awkwardly, “s’pose he didn’t.”

“S’pose he didn’t,” you echoed, “it would be smart if you kept him away from here.”

“Yeah, uh, should do,” he sidled past you and you listened to his heavy boots clump along the beaten snow.

You took out your key and unlocked the door. You closed it quickly behind you, that man’s presence set you on edge. He hadn’t shown any of the venom of his associate but he was loyal to him. You double checked the locks on all the doors and made certain all windows were closed. 

You went up stairs into your apartment and stripped off your coat and boots. You sat at the small table where you ate those dinners you didn’t forget and unpacked your new model. You sorted the pieces and spread out the instructions. The image of the car on the box brought back nostalgic memories. You wouldn’t know all you did about bikes if it wasn’t for your dad. You missed him every day for the last… too many years.

You lost yourself in the tiny parts. You hunched over the table and carefully dabbed glue onto the plastic. Your eyes began to itch as the windows dimmed and you got up to turn on the lamp. You kept building well after dark and finally left the half-finished car on the table.

You stretched out your limbs as you stripped down to only your loose tee and yawned. You fell into bed and turned on the old tube television. You hit play on the VCR and the loud previews blared from the boxy speakers. You rolled yourself in your comforter and sat through the same movie trailers you’d watched a dozen times.

You were never a romantic but you the movie was another shadow of your childhood. Your grandma used to watch Kathleen Turner whenever you went to her place. She would serve you yogurt and berries and turn on the cheesy action flick and if you slept over, she would put in the sequel right after.

Your rituals kept you sane. You found it was easier to know what to expect and given your temper, it was better not to be surprised. You were always the trouble child and you regretted all those times your dad had to come talk to the principal or walk you home from school. You promised him you would be better.

Still you didn’t regret what you did. He always told you to stand up for yourself. Hell, he taught you how to throw a punch and all your best insults were inherited from him. You smiled as you thought of him and hugged your pillow as the intro played and the credits flicked up one name at a time.

You drifted off in the glow of the television and the sound effects sank into your dreams. You were still in Birch but thick vines had grown around all the buildings and billowing leaves shrouded the skies. The town had turned to jungle and you could hear the growls and grunts of beasts unseen.

You spun as a twig snapped and a snake uncoiled from a branch and fell into the brush at your feet. You stepped back and it slithered towards you. You stumbled and ran away as you could hear its skin smoothly glide through the grass at your feet. You tripped as its long body wrapped around your ankles and you crashed to the ground.

You struggled as the snake constricted your body and wound its neck around to face you. Its green eyes shone as its black scales gleamed. Its tongue flicked against your cheek and you felt its hot breath as it opened its mouth and revealed long, frightening fangs. You screamed as its bite loomed and you woke with a start.

The visions of the wild jungle faded but the heat did not. You blinked as an amber haze took over the room and you fought through your messy blankets and tumbled onto the floor. Your curtains were alight along with much of the wall. You bachelor was blazing with orange flames and you could barely see the door through the smoke.

You coughed and scrambled to your feet. Your eyes streamed and you blindly ran for the door and flew down the stairs. The shop was almost entirely engulfed as you reached the lower landing and you fumbled with the front door as flames licked closer and closer.

You burst out into the frozen night and your feet were numbed by the ice and snow. You retreated from the burning building, your life set aflame, and turned back as you reached the sidewalk. Sirens screamed and made you wince as you crossed your arms and chattered against the cold.

“Pity,” the slither made your skin crawl, “though I suppose it is a blessing you at least saved yourself.”

You glanced at Loki as your vision blurred with the tears of realisation. Everything you had was turning to ash before you. You blinked away the droplet and sneered at him. He smirked and you knew. He smirked and he knew. It wasn’t an accident.

[astranva]

Reason To Hate You.

// masterlist //

Word Count: 5k

Category: Angst

Warning: Some strong language, as usual. Just angsty. It’s good for the skin and some soul cleansing.

Summary: He loves her, but has no time to show it even when she asks him to. But she’s had enough, and Harry writes a song.

Based on Reason To Hate You by Rhys Lewis.

..

You were sure when Harry sang “comfortable silence is overrated” he wasn’t joking, because maybe your boyfriend appreciated the uncomfortable silence more, or at least he had been showing so.

Familiarity was out of the window when it came to the both of you, because that would be an understatement. Your friends and families had joked about it for the one year and 7 months of your relationship, about how you were one soul in two bodies, how alike you and Harry were and how the differences completed one another.

You knew when he was stressed, sad, nervous, even when he was a combination of every emotion there is and it had always assured you that he, too, knew you like the back of his hand.

One look at you and he’d offer the best support; let it be a shoulder to cry on, a celebratory dance, or a shared cup of blueberry yogurt.

But quietness had barged in like an univited guest, one you weren’t ready for and the more you thought about it, you would have never been ready for it.

Empty was one word to describe it; the bed, the kitchen, the living room, the balcony, the house, the trips to the grocery’s – the relationship.

It began around the time of Fine Line’s release. Biting back your tongue, you had managed to not feel small whenever you listened to all the tracks on there that Harry had on his ex, especially the one that had his ex talking at the end of.

But Harry had showered you with love and assurance, telling you that he couldn’t believe he had ever lived without you by his side and how he had never felt this sort of love with anyone.

You, too, had showered him with affection and the undivided pride you felt for him, making sure all your friends and family purchased the album, playing it at all times, working online so you could accompany him to some of his press because he needed you there with him.

“Mom’s birthday is coming up. I think we should get her that dress she talked about last time, remember it?” You had asked one night as you lied in bed, eyes on your boyfriend as he moisturized his face while standing in nothing but his boxers.

Harry glanced at you before looking back at the mirror one final time before walking to the bed, “I don’t, no.”

“The Marc Jacobs o-“

“When is it?” He rushed, getting under the cover, turning away from you before turning his head back to look at you.

Your lips parted before closing again, before you replied. “Friday.”

“This Friday?” And at your nod, Harry pursed his lips, “I’m sorry, baby, I can’t make it. Have a meeting all day to talk about tour.”

“But H, you knew about this for two weeks.”

“I did?” Sheepishly, Harry asked.

You slumped before shaking your head, “It’s alright. I’ll just tell her you had an emergency or something.”

“You do that.” He nodded, reaching behind him to give your thigh a squeeze, “Get whatever gift you want, pay with my card.”

You didn’t reply, watching as he let his head down on his pillow, back to you as he got comfortable, the only light in the room coming from the lamp on your bedside table.

On the day of your mother’s birthday, you remember the halfhearted smile you offered to her when she asked you where Harry was,

“Says he’s really sorry. Family emergency, but this is from the both of us.” And then you had given her the neatly wrapped present, a card attached to it with a birthday message from you and Harry, only that it was only you who had written it because Harry was up and out of the house the minute you opened your eyes that morning.

And then it happened, again, and again, and again,

and some more.

“Good morning,” you had smiled at him one morning, watching as he rubbed his face before he approached you, capturing your lips in a kiss that had the butterflies in your stomach cheer and dance, “How did you sleep?”

“Fine, love. What about you?” He smiled tiredly, hands on your waist and chin on your shoulder from behind as he watched you flip the cheddar cheese and omelet toast on the pan.

“Great.” You smiled when you felt him rub your skin from over your nightgown with his fingers. You turned off the stove before turning, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, leaning to peck his lips, “Hey, I know we always get Chinese takeout for our Sunday night date but how do you feel about Thai?”

And instantly, Harry tensed, guilt already taking place on his face and the smile on your face faltered at the change of demeanor, “Y/N, I’m sorry, lovie, I can’t make it tonight.”

“What? Why? We never skip on our Sunday night indoor date.”

It was a ritual you and Harry were devoted to since the very beginning of your relationship, and not once had neither of you flaked on it, always having plans around it but never during it because it was when the both of you would kick your heels up, pig out, watch a movie, talk, and just get ready for the start of another week.

“Told you I’m going to Miami for a few days to meet with the director for Watermelon Sugar, baby.”

“You’re travelling?” You frowned, “You never told me.”

Harry paused, eyes going slightly big before he looked away for a moment before looking back at you, “I’m sorry. It must have slipped out of my mind with how hectic everything has been.”

You didn’t reply, suddenly feeling a tad uncomfortable with your position which had you remove your arms from around him and turn, holding the pan and moving out of his grasp to put the toast on his plate.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. It’s just my job and I can’t reschedule.”

You sighed, feeling as if your heart strings were being tugged at. Nevertheless, you managed to give him a small smile. “It’s alright, H. I understand. You gotta do what you gotta do.”

To be honest, if anyone had a say in this, they’d say Harry took advantage of how accepting you were, but you would never. You would never say – nor admit – that he was taking advantage of all your “I understand”s and “I get it”s, because you knew he was busy. You knew he loved you. You knew it, until you weren’t so sure anymore.

Standing in the corner of Adam and Emi’s living room, you sipped on your Sprite as you watched people from Harry’s band and those behind the album mingle, your boyfriend standing out of earshot but in front of you, conversing with Tom – Kid Harpoon – and Naomi, his hands moving around as he talked which made you smile a little.

“Why are you standing here all lonely?” You felt a nudge to your shoulder before you looked beside you, seeing Sarah leaning on the wall beside you.

You shrugged, “Just watching.”

“You never texted me yesterday after your date. How did Harry react to your dress? Did you end up wearing the white sh-“

“We didn’t go.”

“-oes? Or- Wait, what?” Sarah frowned.

“We didn’t go on the date.” You repeated, avoiding her eyes by looking down at the small soda bubbles in your cup.

“Oh,” Sarah’s shoulders slumped, taking notice of your gloomy mood, “Oh, um,” she cautiously looked at you, “You were dressed.” She mumbled with a frown, genuinely sad for her friend.

You chuckled, putting your weight on one leg, “So was he, but we had different intentions, I guess. He had a meeting with Jeff.”

“Y/N…” Sarah, with a frown, offered a hand of support on your shoulder.

With a small, very fake smile, you looked at her and shook your head, “It’s alright, really. He’s been busy with tour and the press and all that.”

“Doesn’t make him less of an arse, you know?” She raised an eyebrow.

You only chuckled, looking down at your shoes, “Don’t worry about it. Hey, at least I got to watch that show you’ve been bugging me with.”

You were patient; something many of the people you knew in your life always praised, some even were in disbelief at how patient you were with the shit life threw at you. Like that one time your laptop lagged in the midst of your presentation at uni and instead of freaking out, you remained calm, collected and patient, and it was why you ended up acing that presentation.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t feel like crap, because you did.

Since communication was key, you had decided to do just that – communicate. Harry was better than you when it came to confrontation. For a long time, you had trouble with approaching anyone and telling them that things weren’t fine, but as yours and Harry’s relationship blossomed, you learned to.

It was why you had decided against going to bed early one night and opted to stay and wait for Harry’s return, knowing that it was the only time you would be able to see him with how tight his schedule had been.

In a crewneck of his and plaid pj pants, you sat on the couch with a cup of green tea in your hands, watching a talk show that you mentally criticized as shit in your mind before you heard the click of the door.

Taking a breath to steady your heartbeat and breath, you put aside your tea before you clutched your hands together, cracking your knuckles nervously as you heard the sound of Harry’s home sliders against the floor.

His face showed confusion at the light being turned on, knowing that by that time, you usually slept, but he saw you sitting there, too in your head as you looked at your fidgeting hands to notice that he was a few steps away.

“You’re still up.” He stated in surprise, watching your head snap to look at him.

“Um, yeah,” you nodded, “Was waiting for you.”

Unknowing why, Harry smiled to himself as he approached you, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple, “Yeah?”

You nodded, “Can we talk?”

And then his smile slightly faltered, eyebrows furrowing in slight worry before he sat. “Are you alright?” His hand reached up to brush your hair.

You hated how loving he was that moment, how he made you feel. How he showed you care when he was there for a few minutes, but you hated how he had trouble showing you that by making time for you.

“Harry,” you began and he immediately felt like shit because you rarely use his name, “Are you ever not going to be busy?”

“What?”

You felt stupid, not knowing how to articulate how you’re feeling but gave it another go anyway. “It’s just that, you’re never here anymore. It’s always the album, meetings, press, and when it’s none of those, then you’re out with your friends-“

“Is this about me cancelling that date?”

And you knew he was starting to get defensive and you made note that you hated that, too.

“Which one?” You asked tiredly before sighing, turning fully to look at him, “I’m not asking you to choose between me and your job, your life, but I’m just asking you to make time for me. I just feel out of place, Harry, and it sucks.”

“You know this album is important to me, everything about it.”

“And I absolutely love all that for you, I’m so proud of you,” you held his hands, “I just miss you, that’s all.”

“But Y/N, that’s-“ Harry let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes for a moment, “That’s my job.”

“It’s not your job to cancel on our quality time more than twice to be with your friends, all of whom you see everyday.”

“I see you everyday.”

“Seeing me when I’m sleeping or kissing me goodbye is hardly anything, Harry.” You said gently.

He contemplated it, staying silent for a few moments as he looked down at your joined hands. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just, make time for me, for us – please?”

You had kissed then, almost like a promise, and for the first time in a long time, you cuddled.

You wished you received enough assurance that he was trying, wished to see it, but it seemed like too big of a wish to come true.

You had a career of your own, one you were proud of and worked hard for, so when one day your boss asked you to their office to break the news of your promotion, your smile might as well have resembled a painted one like the Joker’s, from ear to ear.

Your colleagues had cheered for you, even interns approaching you to tell you that you deserved it, and they had all decided that a celebration was due. While they were planning for the celebration, deciding that it would take place at a nearby pub the following day as it Saturday and Friday was a good day to recover from hangovers, you took out your phone, composing a text to Harry.

‘H, please be home early tonight. Big news! 🥳 Love you!’

“You sure you don’t want to join for a quick drink? You earned it.” Your colleague Mariah asked as she walked you to your car.

“I’m sure. You go have fun and we’ll meet tomorrow.”

“Hey, tell your boyfriend to tag along!” She said as she waved before leaving.

That day, you went back home, showered and changed before cooking a nice meal for yourself and Harry.

You had checked your phone multiple times, checking if you might have missed a response or missed a call but granted, your phone only notified you of few congratulatory messages from people in your workplace and your family’s Whatsapp group after you had shared with them the news, none from the one person you longed for.

When the clock struck 8 that night, you found yourself grabbing your phone, tapping on it until you were calling his phone. One missed call, you called again and that time, he answered.

“Baby, I’m in the middle of something.” Harry rushed.

“What is it?” You found yourself asking.

“Mate! You fucking cheated!” You heard him laugh, sounds of different people in the background, “Don’t wait up, yeah? I have to go now. Love y-Wait, I’m coming!” And with one final laughter from him – a sound you had always loved and cherished but that moment, it only made you feel like crying – he hung up.

You stared at your phone, eyes stinging and nears getting itchy, swallowing the lump in your throat before you angrily tossed the phone onto the couch before walking to the kitchen to eat your share of the food. No way in hell were you going to sleep sad, angry, and on an empty stomach.

You hated how small you felt, how you felt unwanted in his world. It wasn’t like you wanted much either, just some time.

It was why the following morning as you got ready for your day at work, you might have loudly closed a drawer or two before looking over at Harry’s sleeping figure.

Huffing as you looked into the mirror while adjusting your top, you were unaware to Harry stretching and rubbing his eyes before you heard him.

“Good morning, love.”

Your heart raced, turning instantly to look at him. You tried to smile but when that failed, you turned back to give yourself a final look before grabbing your bag, mumbling a halfhearted “good morning.”

“Leaving early?”

You nodded, “Yeah, I want to grab donuts before I go.”

Harry smiled sleepily, “You usually get them donuts when there is good news.”

“I got promoted.” You said, still avoiding looking at him as you walked towards the door, lingering by it before you finally looked at him, finding him looking at you with a grin.

“Really? Baby, that’s wonderful! Congratulations, Honey. You deserve this. C’mere.” And he opened his arms, making grabby hands at you.

That moment, you also hated how you couldn’t fight the urge to go to him because that was exactly what you did. You walked towards him, sitting beside him and letting him embrace you, peppering kisses on your head.

“I’m proud of you.”

You sighed, wrapping your arms around him as you closed your eyes. “You are?”

“Of course. Always am.”

You smiled, nuzzling your head into his neck.

Harry wasn’t dumb – he felt it. You missed him, and he, too, missed you. He just couldn’t seem to say no to all the plans that he was invited to – except yours.

“They’re celebrating me tonight. Do you want to come?” You said, and although it was a little muffled, he heard it.

“Tonight’s Steve’s birthday. Remember hi-“

“Oh my God.” You rolled your eyes, pulling away from his embrace, shaking your head at yourself before letting out a chuckle, “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Why? What did I- Y/N, you know I can’t miss it. Steve has helped a lot with the album, it wouldn’t be right.”

“He helped with-“ You laughed bitterly, “Right, and I have never helped you with anything. Nothing at all.”

“Don’t take it like that, Y/N.” Harry huffed.

“I’m not taking it like anything, Harry. It doesn’t matter. Don’t wait up. Oh wait,” you stood, giving him a sarcastic smile, “You never do.”

And with that, you were out.

Any other time, you probably would have felt guilty. You would have felt like running back into his arms the moment he opened them. Only, he hadn’t called you, nor had he opened his arms.

There you were, sitting on a stool at the bar as your friends danced and drank, sulking with an untouched cocktail glass, staring at the door every time someone walked in.

But 7 became 8, 8 became 9, and before you knew it, you had driven one of your very drunk colleagues home at 12 and you were back home at 12:30, too sober for your own liking. That was a pathetic celebration, you thought.

You weren’t sure why but the moment you stepped foot inside your shared home with Harry – it was initially his but by the 12th month of your relationship, he had asked you to move in – you couldn’t stop the tears.

Ugly sobs broke the silence in the house, your body shaking with the extra weight of emotions it carried for months.

Maybe it was because even then, Harry wasn’t home and surely, he wasn’t beside you as your friends celebrated a big event in your life. Maybe it was because you received a notification that Harry had posted to his close friends story list on Instagram, the story being him holding his phone with the front camera, Harry singing along to a Queen song with Alexa Chung as she had one arm around his shoulders, her other hand holding a cup that resembled the miserable cocktail you had earlier to celebrate yourself.

But you were packing a suitcase.

You were neatly folding some of your clothes in it, putting some of your undergarments in the zipped-up area. You hadn’t bothered to quit crying, you figured that you owed that yourself.

One thing Harry didn’t expect to return to was to see you out, closing your car’s trunk as you stood in your black sweatpants and a grey hoodie, comfortable sneakers on your feet and your hair left with no hairbands or as much as a clip as if you hadn’t bothered to do anything with it.

Quickly parking and turning off his car, his eyes had glanced at the time quickly, finding it reading 2:21AM. Harry was quick to get out, noticing your movement to your driver side halt as you heard so.

“Where are you going?” He asked as he approached you, feeling worried and scared as he stared at the back of your head as you were yet to turn.

But you did, and Harry found himself staring your puffy eyes, tears in clouding the color he loved too much and his heart broke.

“I’m leaving.”

If it was possible, his heart would have beat its way out of his chest.

“L-Leaving wh-where? What?”

You sniffled, wiping your eyes with your sleeve, “I’m leaving, Harry. I’m done.”

“Y/N, baby,” he cooed, stepping closer, “Let’s talk, alright?” He gently put his hands on your arms, only to have you shrug them off, breaking his heart even more and causing a lump to form in his throat.

“No! We’re not going to talk, Harry. I’m done talking. I’m done waiting. I’m done being alone in this fucking house – in this- this fucking relationship!” You cried.

“Baby, please,” his jaw clenched as he tried to control his breathing and to push back the tears, “Y/N, please. Don’t do this.”

You shook your head, “I gave you everything. I tried everything and it’s just not working. I’m done giving, Harry. Please, just understand.” You stepped closer to him, cupping his face, “You’re never here for me anymore and I’m done holding on to the ghost of you.”

“What can I do? Anything, please,” his nose reddened, eyes going tearful as he was just about to melt in your hands, watching you shake your head, “Please, lovie, anything.”

“I’m done.” You whispered in the midst of a sob, leaning forward to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “I tried.”

And with that, you got into the car before speeding off, leaving Harry standing there, his heart seeming to wave him off as he watched your car disappear.

//

He was shit.

He had tried to contact you, even tried to visit you at your work only to get told that you were taking a few days off.

He messaged you everyday for 3 weeks, called and left voice notes.

His friends felt bad for him when they knew, but they felt worse when he broke down one day when his band visited to check up on him,

“If only I wasn’t part of all of this! If you didn’t drag me into all of this shit, she would have still been here! Right here in her fucking home with me!”

“Hey! You got no one to blame but yourself. You’re the one who decided to blow her off every time, even when Mitch and I asked you about her and gave you an earful so don’t fucking put the blame on anyone but yourself, Harry!” Sarah had knocked some sense into him, “I love you and all, but this is all you and whatever will happen next will be you. Don’t wait for anyone to pick up your mess because it’s about time you act and show her you love her.”

He deserved that.

Harry had tried countless of times, visited your old apartment only to face an old man holding a puppy who had no idea who you were.

He found himself sitting in his studio one night – where he slept because he couldn’t bring himself to sleep in your bedroom – his journal perched up as his pen worked on it. It was like he didn’t need to think about it, he went on auto-pilot and before he could realize it, he had written a song.

You weren’t any better. 2 months later and you were still avoiding his calls. It didn’t help that you got another phone and number but kept your old one, only to know that he still remembered you and you felt pathetic for it.

His fans were bombarding you with questions on yours and his whereabouts, saying that you’ve been inactive for way too long and it wasn’t like you to not interact with them, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t pretend that everything was fine when it wasn’t.

By the 3rd month, you began to go other places than your workplace.

You met up with 2 of your friends, giving them short answers and “yeah”s as they talked. With your mind being somewhere else, you unlocked your phone and opened Instagram, checking your explore page.

And there it finally was; a picture of him. His beard and moustache had grown, untrimmed and messy as his hair. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, yellow sweatpants and a grey hoodie worn along with his running shoes while he walked.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you opened the photo, checking the caption to read it;

‘Harry out a few minutes ago!’

As fresh as your favorite home baked pastries this photo was. Your eyes moved from him to the shop behind him, zooming with your fingers before letting out a gasp.

“Y/N? Is everything okay?” One of your friends asked.

“I have to go.” You quickly said, slinging on your bag before you shot out of your seat and outside, frantically looking left and right before walking towards the shop you had seen in the picture.

You didn’t even know what you were doing. Hell, you shouldn’t have been doing that, looking for him like that.

You panted, reaching up to place a hand on your rapidly beating heart as you stood in front of the shop.

God, you felt stupid.

“Y/N…”

You heard it, then you felt it; his hand, gentle on your shoulder.

You turned, coming face to face with the man you had sworn up and down was the love of your life – and you knew he still was.

He snatched off his sunglasses, as if they played a trick on him but they weren’t because you stood right there.

“You’re here.” He breathed out.

Harry’s green eyes were staring into yours, hand still on your shoulder.

At the feeling that rushed through you; one that made you feel that one more minute and you would be in his arms, kissing him and going back home with him, you slowly shook your head. “I have to leave.”

“No, please, please, a minute. Just a minute.” Harry pleaded with wide eyes, desperation in his voice.

“If I stay for one more minute, I won’t control myself. Please let me go.” You closed your eyes as you spoke softly.

“I can’t.”

“You can. You did it more than once.”

One final jab to his heart, you turned, rushing to cross the street before getting in your car.

//

The news of a sudden single drop was everywhere.

Friends and family texted you to ask if you had heard the song, most asking you to “please talk it out with Harry, he seems really sorry.”

Your coffee, sat waiting for you as you read the wave of tweets that crashed on you from fans, most of asking you what your friends and family asked of you, some others apologizing on his behalf, some others questions if the song was about you to begin with, and some others giving you shit for “breaking Harry’s heart.”

You were quick to click on a YouTube link that was attached to a tweet of a fan reacting to the song, sitting up straight and suddenly feeling nauseous as the screen changed.

Harry Styles – Reasons To Hate You.

Your stomach dropped as you saw him. In a white tee and black shorts, his hair was held back with your light blue clip while he sat in a chair behind his mic in the comfort of your home studio, holding the black guitar you had gifted him for his 26th birthday.

“Can you just lie to me

And ruin these memories

'Cause I've gotta forget somehow

So I'm begging you, burn us to the ground,” Harry sang as he played the guitar.

“Cause I know it's over

But I don't know what to do

So help me get over

Help me get over you,”

With no intentions to stop the tears, you let yourself cry, reaching up to stifle a sob by putting a hand to your mouth.

“And tell me you love somebody else or something

Or say you've been unfaithful to me

'Cause I need a reason to hate you, a reason to let you go

A reason to move on 'cause without one I know I won't

So tell me you love somebody else or something

Or say you've been unfaithful to me.”

He had looked up to his camera, and as he did, you felt like he was physically there and singing for you.

“Where do we go from here?

Do you just disappear?

'Cause I don't think I can be your friend

When it feels like the break isn't gonna mend.”

You stopped questioning your moves, and as proof, you had no idea what you were thinking when you grabbed your car keys and bolted out of the studio apartment you had rented, the song still playing.

“'Cause even after all this time, I'm hoping I can change your mind

'Cause hope's the only open door left to choose

So let me out for good because I know that I'm not strong enough

To stop myself from feeling things for you

So don't give me the truth.”

And you drove to him, right back to your home.

The song had replayed itself 4 times before you were finally out of your car and rushing to the door, ringing the bell and knocking, cursing yourself for forgetting your keys back at that apartment.

The door opened and there he stood, in the same clothes with the same clip holding back his hair.

Harry didn’t have time to comprehend before you threw yourself at him, crying into his chest.

“You’re such an asshole.” You cried, “How can you release something like that, you shit?”

He held on to you, hiding his face in your hair as he took you in.

“Next time, even an album won’t bring me back, you understand?” You mumble, feeling his arms tighten around you as he kissed your head then shoulder.

“There won’t be a next time.”