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harrysgoldenline · 3 years

Note

can you pls write an angst where y/n went to her and harry's house that they bought or something like that in Italy to try to move on and go on with her life after harry broke up with her but then she never expected that harry will be there as well with his new gf.... you can end it whatever you like!! thank you

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: idk, sad I guess? also not proof read oops sorry lol

When In Italy

It has been three months since you’ve last seen or spoken to Harry. A very abrupt change after being together for four years, with constant talk of marriage and starting a family, the break up was something either of you really expected. It started as a break of sorts, eventually turning into a complete break up after only a couple weeks in a somewhat mutual way. With Harry's career taking off in so many different ways, with acting, the new tour and more, his life had changed completely and has left him very little time for anything else.

It went from daily phone and FaceTime calls, constant text messages and flowers being delivered to nothing.

“You really think that’s a good idea?” Your best friend asked you, concern plastered all over her face, “that won’t bring up too much?”

She had been sitting with you as you finished packing up your suitcase, trying her best to give you her support as you were going to be going on a spur of the moment trip to Italy and staying at the home of you and Harry, needing the much needed getaway and disconnecting completely. Seeing different things online about him all the time didn’t make it any easier and no matter how hard you tried to avoid it, he always found his way to pop up.

“I just need a break, everything here is a reminder to.” You sigh, “I just want a change of scenery. I think it’ll be good for me.”

“I hope so…” she frowned, looking up at you with a sad smile, “please don’t just sit there in the house all alone. Go out, meet some local Italian men!”

“I’m definitely not ready for that.” You say, forcing a laugh as you close your suitcase, zipping it up and placing it on the floor by your door, “but I will really try, I promise. I will call you if I need you and you can come out?”

“Hell yeah I can.” She laughs, standing up and giving you a hug, “and you’re really going right now?”

You bite your bottom lip as your eyes fill up with tears, nodding quickly as you look at her and she quickly pulled you in a tight hug.

“You can do this.”

***

You pulled your suitcase through the front door, waving goodbye to the driver as you turned around to close the door behind you as they left you alone in the house that has so many memories inside. You pause at the door, taking a couple deep breaths as you look around and try and keep your mind at bay before walking to the guest bedroom, deciding the main bedroom was too much and the guest bedroom was already way nicer than your apartment.

After taking the time to unpack, knowing you would stay awhile, you put away your things into the various drawers and closet in the room. You keep out a swimsuit and change into it quickly, sliding a simple dress overtop before walking out onto the balcony attached to the bedroom, taking in the smell of the ocean and beautiful view, memories overwhelming your senses.

“Well don’t you look absolutely stunning.” You can practically hear him say all over again, reliving the memory as if it was actually happening, “ ‘m the luckiest man in the world.”

You remember him coming up behind you, arms tight around your waist as his head rested on your shoulder, soft kisses being pressed along your shoulder as you leaned back into him, a large smile covering both of your faces before you leaned your head back, connecting your lips before he pulled back.

“I can’t decide…” He had whispered, connecting your lips again.

“Decide what?” You had giggled, turning around to face him, arms resting around his shoulders as his came around your waist.

“If I want to get married here or have our honeymoon here.”

You shuddered slightly as the memory came back, letting out a deep breath before packing a beach bag quickly and leaving the house just as fast, taking a walk down to the private beach and settling yourself in a lounge chair. Applying your sunscreen you could almost convince yourself it was him applying it on you like he always would do, large hands massaging it into your skin.

You push the thought away as you grab your phone, playing music softly to try and distract your mind. Your fingers hovered over your different social media apps, wanting desperately to just give it a quick click, wondering if you could get any update on where he could be from his fans, posts always finding their way on your feed. Instead, you hold it down, deleting all of the various apps and throwing your phone down on your bag, grabbing your book and letting the music play, opening to the first page to try and escape into the new world.

***

After a few hours been spent peacefully on the beach, you decided to head back to the house to take a nice bubblebath and order yourself some dinner, deciding that you would go to town the next morning in order to cook some of your own meals. The walk back to the house was more enjoyable this time and you began to feel a sense of hope as you approached the house, your heart not clenching in as much pain as it originally had done when you first pulled up to the house earlier that day.

Using your keys, you unlocked the back door, locking it behind you again as soon as you got inside, making your way to the bathroom right away and letting the water fill up the bathtub, pouring in some of the fancy bubblebath that you remember buying once from your favorite boutique in town, making a mental note to stop there again tomorrow.

Discarding your clothes, you hung them up, deciding you could use it once more as a cover up after not even going into the water, and you honestly didn’t even have the energy to even think about doing laundry right now, even simply showering was too much most days so you were happy to submerge yourself simply into the warm water, eyes fluttering closed as it embraced you with it’s comfort.

You began preparing yourself a mental list of things you could do tomorrow, forcing yourself to get out of the house and keep yourself occupied after locking yourself away in your apartment the past few months, planning on taking baby steps but knowing that even starting will be more like a push off a cliff.

Pulling yourself out of the bath once finishing cleansing your body, deciding to save washing your hair for the next day, you pulled yourself out of the bath, honestly just wanting to curl up into bed and go to sleep but knowing you needed to force yourself to eat something. So, you dry off, applying some matching lotion to your body, which made you feel a sense of pride of yourself as you made small steps to take care of yourself again, thanking the air of Italy as self motivation and threw on the robe that you swear was the softest one in the world.

A sudden sound coming from the house made you jump, a hand coming over your chest to try and calm your racing heart as your mind tried to think of all of the possibilities of who could be there, or maybe it was coming outside? Or honestly at this point you thought it could be your imagination as the memories that have been flashing into your mind have been so vivid it felt like it was actually happening. Your feet softly padded on the wood flooring, making your way to what you thought was the site of the sound, feeling bile rise in your throat at the sight before you.

It was Harry there, with one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in your life, laughing together.

You weren’t sure if they saw you, both of their hair wet as towels wrapped around them and it seemed like they had just got back from the beach, making you think that you must have just missed each other as you swapped positions. You slowly walk backwards, thinking of running out the back towards the beach and calling a car, leaving all of your clothes there.

You could see slightly into the master bedroom, seeing their suitcases sprawled and things laid on the couch as they chatted together, knowing they must have arrived when you were down at the beach, your presence unknown as all of your things sat seemingly hidden in the guest room which you were now desperately trying to go and hide in, but after it being too log since you been here, you accidentally ran into the wall, a photo that was hanging there crashing to the floor, glass shattering.

Two heads quickly snapped their way towards you, both pairs of eyes meeting yours as gasps left both of their lips, Harry’s face going pale as he saw you. You opened your mouth to speak, but with this being your first time seeing your partner since the breakup, no words were able to come out.

Spinning on your heel your ran back into the guest bedroom, pulling the suitcase out of the closet and messily shoving all of your clothes into it, tears stinging your eyes and unable to hold them in as they silently spilling on you cheeks, more coming as you heard the familiar steps coming your way, feeling the presence behind you and hearing the door shut softly behind you.

“Y/N?”

—————————————————————————

Part 2 anyone???

ALSO PLEASE READ THIS!!

I was wondering what people would think about me doing personalized little blurbs/imagines for people who donate to my tip jar? you could give me your name, prompt, pronouns, etc and i will write it just for you!! :) i’m trying to write more and it’s hard bc i’m a broke college student who needs to work but if people who WANT a personalized little fic with bucky or harry or something with their own name and such maybe I could do something like that? of course I will still be doing all normal requests and such but this way it’s kinda like a one time patreon for people who want to do something like that? idk please comment/send me a message/ask and let me know what you think!!!! let’s talk!

#harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles imagines #harry styles headcannon #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #harry styles writing #harry styles request #fic rec #harry styles #harry styles dirty imagine #harry styles one shot

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arrowflier · 3 years

Note

Arrow write the mickey spotting ian and kev fic challenge!

Had to do this while it was still topical lol, so here goes.

The first time was an accident. Well, sort of.

"Ian can help with that," Mickey offered, watching Kev struggle to shift kegs and pour drinks at the same time.

"Thanks man," Kev grunted, hoisting another keg. He waddled with it along the length of the bar, body hidden behind the counter, and set it down with a heavy thunk.

"Not easy though," he added as he straightened. "Don't wanna make him strain somethin' before your wedding."

He waggled his eyebrows at Mickey, tongue stuck out, and Mickey rolled his eyes.

He knew exactly what would come next.

"You think I can't lift a keg?" Ian asked from the stool next him. His voice almost broke on the last word with sheer disbelief. "I'm not some skinny kid anymore, Kev, I just got out of prison for fuck's sake!"

"Cause there were plenty of kegs there to lift," Mickey muttered into his beer, and almost sent it splashing over the old stained countertop when Ian shoved his shoulder too hard.

"Just point me where you need me," Ian told Kev, puffing out his chest.

Kev eyed Ian, then Mickey, then Ian again. But ultimately, he shrugged, and tapped the top of the keg he had just put down.

"Uh, this guy here needs to go out back," he said. "Brought in the wrong one."

"On it," Ian said, and made his way to it. He bent over at the waist, his hands reaching for the handles, ass stuck out in his too-tight jeans.

Mickey tilted his head, and sipped his drink, admiring the view.

"Whoa, whoa, not like that!" Kev said from behind the bar, arms out. "You're gonna hurt yourself, man."

"Then how," Ian forced out between gritted teeth, still leaning over, "would you suggest I do this?"

Kev came around, whacked Ian in the back until he let go and straightened with a huff. Then he took up position at another keg alongside the first.

"Lift with your legs, kid," he said, and dropped into a half squat right in front of Mickey's face.

Oh.

"Like this?" Ian relented, assuming position next to Kev, broad back stretched and straight over bent legs and strong thighs.

Oh.

Kev and Ian each hoisted their kegs, beginning their awkward walk away toward the back, and Mickey leaned so far back on his stool he almost fell off.

Well, he thought as he downed the last of his drink, eyes following two ridiculously built sets of shoulders strain their way across the room.

He could get used to seeing that.

---

The second time, it was definitely on purpose. He had talked Ian into trying out KevFit after his own misadventure--he was not eager to keep working out on his own, but Ian kept wanting to do new shit together.

They were only one round in at the keg lift station, Ian already grunting and heaving and sweaty next to him, when Kev came by.

"Good form, Ian," he congratulated, clapping a hand on his shoulder hard enough to make him drop the half-filled keg with a clatter. "Way better than last time."

"Gee, thanks," Ian answered dryly, wiping his forehead with the hem of his thin workout tank, and Mickey had an epiphany.

"Hey, Kev," he said slowly, like the idea was just occurring to him, "You got all this equipment rigged up, but how are you on basics?"

Kev's brow furrowed, his muscled arms going slack at his sides.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean like, pushups and jogging and shit," Mickey answered. "You know, the kind of stuff they do in the military."

He let his eyes widen, and turned them on Ian.

"Oh wait," he said, "that's kinda your thing, ain't it?"

Ian shrugged, looking confused.

"Uh, I guess?"

"Why don't you show Kev one of your old workouts?" Mickey suggested innocently. "He could add some things to the whole KevFit routine, maybe bring in more clients."

Kev perked up at that.

"Yeah, why not?" he said. "C'mon Ian, show me what you've got."

Five minutes later, Mickey was leaning against the "spring water" station, sipping from the flask he had snuck in from next door, watching two ridiculously tall, ridiculously strong fuckers take up half the open floor space doing increasingly impressive pushups. Right then, Ian had one arm behind his sweat-slicked back, Kev mirroring his form, and Mickey's eyes followed the rise and fall of their bodies with total focus.

"Excuse me," a wimpy, hipster-sounding dude said hesitantly from behind him, " but do you know when they're bringing out more waters?"

Mickey didn't even bother to look.

"Get lost," he answered, waving a hand in the guy's general direction. "Go drink outa the bathroom sink like a normal fucking person and let me watch my show."

---

The third time, he was pretty sure Ian was catching on.

Not that he cared, honestly--the view was fucking worth it.

"You call that a bench press?" He goaded his husband from behind the bench. "Kev's kickin' your ass, man, that's just embarassing."

Ian glowered, breath hissing out between his teeth as he pushed up again.

"I'm pretty much pressing you right now," he gritted out, "so I'm feeling pretty good about it, actually."

Mickey hid his grin behind a hand, feigning disinterest even as his eyes followed Ian's bulging arms up and down, lingering on the tight plane of his chest.

"Well he's pressing like two of me," Mickey countered, letting his eyes wander, "so you might wanna step it up, tough guy."

Sure enough, Kev's current weights were at least half again what Ian had, and he was doing an admirable job of lifting them considering that his gigantic self was too big for the bench. Mickey hadn't considered that when he invited Kev to check out the gym at their new place; it was designed for recreational exercise, not fucking seven foot tall body builders. The man's legs stretched out awkwardly off the bottom of the bench, knees bent but stuck up far too high for proper form. His broad shoulders dwarfed the other end, making it look like his upper body was just suspended there.

Mickey licked his lips, watching the shift of muscles under Kev's tanned skin--thank the lord the man shared his aversion to sleeves--and almost got chinned when he leaned too far over Ian's station.

The bar slotted into place without his help, Ian sitting up and wiping his face with a hand.

"Why don't you spot him for a while, then," Ian said. "While I go hit the shower."

He stood, making his way to the door, and Mickey paused, torn.

"Or I could give you a practical demonstration of my ability to lift you," Ian added over his shoulder, and Mickey was making his excuses to their guest and chasing after him before Kev could even finish another rep.

---

Ian never brought it up, after that, but Mickey still decided to cool it, just a little. Ian had seemed a little jealous, at the gym, although you'd never have known it by the things he said later--bet you like it when people look like they can throw you around, Mick--and Mickey did not need to throw a wrench into their marriage just for a little extra eye candy.

But then they were all at the pool together, the Gallaghers plus Mickey, plus Tami, plus Kev and Vee, and he really couldn't help it.

"Damn our men are hot," Tami had commented, sitting in a white plastic chair next to Mickey.

Mickey leaned back with a grin, taking a swig of lukewarm beer, and said, "You think that's hot?" nodding to where Ian and Lip were splashing each other over Franny's head in the shallow end.

"Watch this," he finished, and cupped a hand over his mouth to help his voice carry.

"Hey Ian," he shouted. "Bet Kev could beat you in a race."

"Hell yeah!" Kev called back from where he was manning the grill. "Name the time, man!"

Mickey could see Ian roll his eyes, and worried for the briefest of moments that his husband was done humoring him. But after a brief, hushed word with his brother, Ian was swimming to the side of the pool nearest Kev, saying "right now, backstroke, three laps," and Mickey was falling in love all over again.

"You do this a lot?" Tami asked, amused, as Kev stripped off his shirt and jumped in to take his place at the wall of the pool.

Mickey waited until they were off, arms wheeling wildly through the water and sending the sparkling spray onto sculpted, heaving chests, to answer.

"Define a lot," he said, not looking away from the spectacle as Ian and Kev hit the wall and turned, their swimsuits flashing through the water.

Tami snickered.

"Got it," she said, then, "thanks for sharing the wealth."

The race finished, Ian and Kev lifting themselves out of the pool, water running down their bodies as they clasped hands and went in for a shoulder-slapping bro hug. Ian looked back to where Mickey sat, and smirked.

"No problem," Mickey murmured, watching closely.

Ian leaned up to say something into Kev's ear, and Mickey squinted, like that would somehow help him hear it.

"Ogling the competition, Milkovich?" Lip's voice came from behind, and Mickey nearly fell out of his chair.

"The fuck are you talkin about?" he demanded, twisting around in his chair to look at Lip's knowing smirk.

"Nothing," Lip answered innocently. "Just noticed you've been watching Kev a lot lately."

Mickey scowled.

"And what's it to you?" he challenged. "Nothing at all," Lip said. "Just an observation." His grin widened. "And a distraction."

Mickey's eyes narrowed.

"A distraction from wha--argh!"

He cut off as he was lifted by two pairs of string arms, familiar ones wrapped under his own and different, strong hands holding his feet. He flailed, barely registering the flash of green eyes and a mostly bald head, before he hit the water with a splash.

By the time he surfaced, snorting chlorinated pool water out of his nose, it was to see two grinning faces looking down at him.

"Thought you might need to cool off after watching us," Ian said with a grin, laughing when Mickey tried to splash water into his face.

"Next time you want a show," Kev added, "just ask, man." He waggled his eyebrows. "I learned a few things when I worked that gay club."

Ian laughed again at Mickey's shocked expression.

"You need to work on your poker face, Mick," he said. "But it's okay, we don't mind."

He winked, then turned to walk away, leaving Mickey floating in the pool. Kev left with him, hips swaying slightly, and Mickey bit his lip and watched them go.

"Really?" Lip asked from the side of the pool, sounding disgusted, and Mickey just shrugged without looking back.

After all, if they didn't mind...

#daily speedwrite #gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #fanfic #kev ball #silly and random

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alrightberries · 3 years

Text

dante’s inferno

request: wassup homie could you maybe write a college au fic where levi and reader are rommies, then one day reader brings home an adopted cat without levi's prior knowledge? You could decide what happens next lol. Tysm 🥺

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack ❈ word count: 4k

❈ summary: college au. in which you bring a stray cat to your dorm and your neat freak roommate won’t let you keep it.

alternatively: a compilation of college shenanigans where you and levi are best friends who are bad with feelings (ft. an unamused cat named dante)

❈ trigger warnings: profanity. mentions of alcohol and smoking. implied smut.

a/n: this was supposed to be loosely based on the nine circles of hell according to inferno by dante alighieri— hence the title— but i did my research wrong so now it’s loosely based on the seven terraces of purgatory according to divine comedy. i’m keeping the title tho.

Inspired by this art by @ryuichirou on tumblr.

Permission to repost art was granted by the artist. Do not repost/edit the art without explicit permission from the artist.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

i. first terrace: pride

“We’re not keeping it.”

“But why?”

“We’re not keeping it.”

“But why.”

Levi’s tongue clicks in annoyance. His eyes glance next you where the offending creature lay on your bed; tail curling, paws kneading at his your favorite fleece blanket. Quite frankly he’s a little offended when the little shit has the audacity to glare at him back.

He’ll never admit it, but his ego’s a bit bruised because the cat’s glare was slightly better than his.

“I said no,” he firmly replies, looking back to you. “It’s bad enough I have to share a room with an anarchist who has no respect for boundaries—“

“One time, I forgot to use a coaster that one time!”

“—and now you expect me to share a room with a dirty fur ball who does nothing but eat, shit, and sleep?”

“He’s a cat, Levi.” You murmur, scooping the cat into your arms. “And he has a name,” you give a nervous smile when you see your rommate grit his teeth. He feels a headache coming.

“You named it?”

“Dante is not an ‘it’.”

Levi makes a move to step closer but immediately stops when the ‘Dante’ hisses at him.

“Aw, he likes you.” You coo.

“Clearly,” he replies unenthusiastically. “Listen,” he sighs. “I respect your cat’s pronouns but that doesn’t mean he’s allowed to stay. Or do I need to remind you of the mac and cheese incident?”

Okay, maybe he was on to something. If you got caught with a pet in the dorms you’d breach your third and final warning, and you’d be forced to dorm off-campus. The fact that you were still here after the mac and cheese incident was solely because Levi pulled some strings (aka asked Erwin, golden boy of the campus who owed him a favor, to pull some strings).

But you couldn’t just let Dante go. There was something about him that felt so familiar; something about his black fur, thin silver eyes, unamused snarl, and overall grumpy demeanor. Especially endearing was the way he’d grumble and pretend to be annoyed whenever you tried to cuddle him but would complain if you stopped.

You just couldn’t figure out who or what he reminded you of.

Maybe you would’ve figured it out too if you weren’t so distracted with watching Levi and Dante stare at each other. Your eyes dart back and forth between the grouchy cat sitting on your bed and your grouchy roommate sitting on his desk. Both were slightly crouched over with their heads tilted up in a show of dominance; they were engaged in what seemed to be a glaring contest, gunmetal irises unamused and mouths taut in a snarl as they protected their territory.

You sigh. You really, for the life of you, couldn’t figure out why Dante felt so familiar.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

ii. second terrace: envy

Levi is not jealous. He’s not.

At least that’s what he tells himself as he sulks alone on his bed. His arms are crossed and his lips are in a pout, eyebrows knitted in distaste, occasionally glancing to your side of the room where you sat up on your bed. He’s sure whatever movie you chose to watch together is interesting and all, but right now all he could pay attention to was that stupid cat. Sitting on your stupid lap. Getting its fur stroked by your stupid hand. Getting all the love and affection his stupid self should be receiving.

It was him you should be cuddling, not Dante. Saturday nights were reserved for him and you, not you and a cat while he happened to be in the room. He’s been trying to make a move on you since high school and he can’t fucking believe he’s losing your attention to a cat. Sure, he’s always been too chicken to make a move and had to suffer seeing you get together with assholes— as per your type during your emo high school days— but this was a new low. He can’t wrap his head around the concept that he’s losing his longterm crush to a motherfucking cat.

When you coo at how adorable the fleabag was for what felt like the 50th time that night, Levi decides he’s had enough of the cuddle-hogging piece of shit.

Wordlessly, he crosses to your side of the room and lifts the cat from its perch, ignoring your protests as he sets it down on the floor and tells it to ‘scram, you little fuck.’ He uses a hand to dust your lap free of any microscopic cat particles Dante probably left behind before lying down his head down once he was satisfied. He grabs your hand to put it on his hair.

“Stroke.” He orders, eyes closing.

“What? No! You pushed off Dante.”

“He was in my spot.”

“You couldn’t have given up your lap pillow for one night?”

“One night?” He scoffs and turns to look at you. “You’ve been abandoning me for two weeks. That disgusting, tic-infested, rabies-carrying slob has no business sitting on your lap.”

“He’s not disgusting, you gave him a shower before you agreed to let me keep him. And I took him the vet to make sure he had all his shots. He’s clean, Levi.”

“Tch, good. Now throw him out and let him find someone else to freeload from.”

“Okay, what’s going on?” You guffaw. “You’ve been grumpier than usual. And why’re you being such an ass to Dante? He’s just a cat.”

“Don’t think he’s special in some way. I’m an ass to everyone.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re always extra mean to him?”

He doesn’t reply. His lips are downturned into a frown when he looks away with a click of his tongue, and you realize with a sigh you won’t be getting an answer from your cryptic roommate soon. Your fingers start mindlessly stroking his undercut when you get lost in your thoughts— a habit you developed through years of Levi using your lap as a pillow. He always complained the first few times you did it but you knew it calmed both him and you, and that it put both your minds at ease. Moreso Levi right now, apparently.

You’re keenly aware of how he seems to curl up into you the more you keep going. You watch as his shoulders slump down when you stroke the side of his face, and his eyebrows relax slightly. From your angle, you could even see the way his eyes close in content. Maybe even a tiny smile if you were being delusional.

Your lip twitches upward.

“Oh my god, Levi, are you jealous of a cat?”

“Shut up and play with my hair.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

iii. third terrace: wrath

“You owe me a new cravat.”

You blink up at your roommate. “What?”

“You owe me a new cravat.” He repeats. He pulls from his pocket a white piece of fabric— barely recognizable— torn into shreds, releases it mid-air. It gently lands on your open palm.

“Wait, did Dante do this?” You ask, eyeing the slik in your hands.

“Unless you went feral in the middle of the fucking night and decided to cut up my clothes, yes.”

“Oh my god, Levi, I’m so sorry. I swear Dante will never—“

“You actually owe me three cravats,” he interjects. “The first two I overlooked since they weren’t that expensive but I draw the line here.” His lips are downturned into a frown, eyes poorly concealing his clear distaste. “This one’s my favorite and it was made from silk.”

You eye the fabric in your hands once more before nodding in understanding, setting down the once beautiful cravat before taking out your wallet. It was only fair that you paid him back; he was being more than generous with letting your cat stay and keeping it a secret, and now you wonder how many bad things Dante’s done that Levi’s overlooked or simply never brought up with you.

“Sure, I’m really sorry. How much do I owe you?”

Levi doesn’t say anything. Instead he pulls out his phone and types something on what you could only assume was google, most likely looking for the same brand of the cravat your cat had just torn into shreds. You weren’t entirely sure how much those could cost, but surely you could afford—

“What the fuck!” You screech, eyeing the page with very, very hefty price tags listed. Holy fucking hell where did he even get the money to buy something so expensive. Gulping, you nervously look up at your unimpressed roommate. You already knew he was taking it easy on you; his aura was the only thing intimidating, at least he wasn’t giving you the murder eyes. And even though he was a man of his word, you were thankful he hasn’t reported Dante.

Still, it didn’t change the fact that Levi looked pissed beyond belief.

“Uhm... can I pay you with a check that’ll definitely bounce?”

“You will pay me in cash.”

“Fuck, fine!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

iv. fourth terrace: sloth

Levi silently works on his desk. His laptop’s open in fromt of him, numerous notes from classes and books from the library surrounding him. The gentle sounds of clicking and clacking echoe throughout the room as fingers typed at the keyboard, eyes concentrated and lips pulled taught as he focuses on his task. He’s on a roll. He’s almost done with this part of his research, nothing could snap him out of this, he just needs to—

“Levi, when do you think Dante will come back to me?”

He stops typing and grits his teeth.

This is how it’s been the entire night. Ten minutes of peace before you ask him some stupid questions that could’ve been answered with common sense.

“Fuck if I care.”

“Do you think it was something I did?”

He resumes typing. “Yes.”

“Do you think he’ll come back?”

“No.”

“Even after all we’ve been through?”

“Still no.”

“I miss him,” you sigh. “I miss him so much.”

“Then you shouldn’t have left the door open.”

It’s been a week since Dante escaped the dorm and Levi doesn’t understand why you’re still so depressed about it. I mean, you only lost a cat that you loved and treasured and treated like family. Surely a week of moping around in your pajamas and eating nothing but chips and soda was catharsis enough.

He hears you shift in your burrito blanket, presumably to turn away from him so you can sulk into the wall next to your bed. Good. Now he can get back to working on—

“Levi do you think Dante-“

“Enough.” He grits, slamming his laptop shut.

“Where’re you going?” You ask, eyeing the way he hurriedly stuffs papers and books into his bag along with his laptop.

“Out.” He replies, grabbing his keys and his coat. “I can’t stand this shit anymore.”

Your head is burried in your blankets when he slams the door shut and all you could do was slump down because great. You lost Dante, and now you’ve royally pissed off Levi.

Great. Just fucking great.

Unlike your cat, however, your roommate comes back hours later, just before curfew. He doesn’t bother with a hello— he never does— and neither do you, opting to stay hidden underneath the sheets. Though suddenly, there’s a dip in the mattress followed by a pur next to your head.

Could it be?

“Dante?” You murmur, lifting your head from underneath your cocoon of fabric. Small black paws and silver eyes meet your gaze. “Dante!” Immediately sitting up, you pulled him to your lap, scratching his little head and cooing about how much you missed him as he purred and curled into to you.

Levi would never say it, but he missed seeing you smile at the little fleabag.

You turn to look at your roommate. “How’d you find him?”

“Asked around the campus. He wandered into another dorm building and probably thought it was ours.”

“Well yeah but... I thought you hated him?”

“I do.” He replies instantly.

“Then why’d you find him?”

“I hate him, not you.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

v. fifth terrace: avarice

“I fucking hate both of you,” Levi grumbles, staring at the dorm.

Towers of boxes lined his supposed to be clean dorm room. He had a hard time prying the door open since it was blocked, and he wasn’t even sure how the boxes weren’t blocking out the light from how high they were piled. Dante’s sat on a stack of box directly next to the door, purring and flicking his tail around. Levi squints his eyes and glares at the little shit.

“You especially.”

“Mrow?”

Levi’s day had been, with no irony or sarcasm at all, amazing. He got a good grade on his research paper; the guy in front of him at the cafe accidentally ordered an extra serving of (coincidentally, Levi’s favorite) tea and gave it to him for free; and he got full marks for the presentation he’s been worrying about for weeks. His class even got dismissed early so he had an extra hour for lunch. He knew you didn’t have classes, so in honor of his great day he thought he’d do something nice and take you out for lunch. His treat, of course.

But any trace of his good mood vanished when he went back to the dorms and got greeted to a room that looked like it came from an episode of Hoarders.

This is what he gets for trying to be nice.

“Levi! Is that you?” You called out.

“What the fuck happened?”

You laugh sheepishly— at least Levi thinks you do. He couldn’t see you beyond the hundred boxes that took up your shared room. He hears some rustling and the sound of things being moved around before finally your head pops out from behind a wall of brown, smiling at him apologetically before walking towards him (and tripping a few times).

“Remember when I said I’d order some toys for Dante as a surprise?”

Levi’s eye twitches. “Don’t tell me—”

“I accidentally ordered 10,000 instead of 10. Online shopping struggles, am I right?” You nervously chuckle at his pissed off face. Levi was not in the mood.

Your smile widens as you make twinkly gestures with your hands. “So uh... surprise?”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

vi. sixth terrace: gluttony

The clinic is still when you first entered.

The harsh smell of alcohol and sterile metal makes your nose grimace, and the coldness of the thermostat brings goosebumps to your arms. Behind the wall, somewhete in the waiting room, cats are hissing, dogs are barking, and you could even hear the sound of birds angrily chirping and rattling their cages.

Dante cowers in fear on the silver table, and your heart aches. His ears are down and his fur’s standing on its ends, but you couldn’t comfort him. Not right now, at least. The veterinarian still needed to do a few more checks.

You gulp, “how’s... how’s Dante looking, doc?”

“Not good,” she murmurs. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and she takes a deep sigh as she eyes the information on the chart. “It’ll take months before he can walk properly again, possibly more if we don’t do anything about it soon.”

“Don’t tell me... is he—-”

“I’m sorry, my dear,” she sighs. “But your cat is heavily obese.”

The corners of your lips twitch down into a frown, and your palm is warm when you start to stroke Dante’s fur. He calms down a bit from your touch, less on edge but still guarded as he warily eyes the doctor’s gloved hands.

“But I don’t understand,” you reply. “I’ve been following the recommended diet you put him on, and I haven’t been feeding him anything other than the cat food and vitamins you recommended. How’s he still obese?”

“Well, we could look into other solutions, but for now I think we ought to look at whether or not Dante has an underlying health problem.”

Levi tunes out the chatter between you and the vet, bored eyes staring into nothing. He’s leaning against a wall and he’s watching the cat carrier. Your bag’s slung over his shoulders and your coat’s in his arms, and he was sure you didn’t even need him to be here for “moral support.”

He mentally scoffs. You probably just needed a chauffeur to drive you for free, and honestly, Levi would rather feel like a chauffeur than a coat rack.

His eyes make contact with Dante’s, and all the fear in the cat’s eyes is suddenly gone, replaced with a steely glare and bared teeth. A warning, one no one else notices but him.

Levi gives him a solitary nod, understanding what Dante wanted to say.

Don’t tell Y/N I’ve been sneaking to the neighbors.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

vii. seventh terrace: desire

There’s something about the buzz of alcohol and nicotine that makes Levi confident—- the liquid courage in his veins and the smoke in his lungs clouding his judgement. Perhaps that’s where he finally gets the balls to cross the room, drunken eyes on your equally intoxicated ones, before he pulls you in for a kiss.

The kiss starts slow, with lips just interlocking and lightly testing the waters. But then he feels your tongue make its way inside his mouth and your fingers weave into his hair to tug him closer, and Levi loses the last threads of inhibition he has. His tongue massages yours and one of his arm wraps around your waist, the other comes down to grope and knead your ass. He feels you walk backwards and your hand pulls at his tie, dragging him with you. Suddenly he’s trapping you against a wall, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around his hips so he could grind his crotch into yours.

Levi doesn’t expect his first kiss with you to be like this; messy and full of tongue and spit, full of fingers clawing at clothes and small grunts escaping your lips. He was hoping it’d be more romantic, with warm cheeks and fingers softly intertwining, shy kisses exchanged through little smiles.

But he’s not about to complain—- he’s wanted to be with you for years, and god he loved having you like this. Loved having you all hot and desperate, trapped between his firm chest and the wall. His cock is hard in his pants, and he just about growls when he feels you start to undo his belt, the fly of his pants coming down as you got on your knees and stared up at him with innocent eyes as you pull out his aching boner. There’s a cheeky grin your face when you pump at his length, and your tongue peaks out of your mouth before—

“Levi, are you okay?”

His eyes snap open, and he’s greeted to the sight of your worried face directly above his.

“Fuck!” he yells, and his forehead slams into yours when he flinches away. “Sorry, sorry” he quickly ammends when you yelp in pain.

He’s covered in sweat, he notices. Chest heaving, heart beating a little too loud for his liking, and he silently pulls the blankets over his cum stained boxers when you sit beside him.

God, he was really hoping you wouldn’t notice the fact that he came in his pants like a high schooler. And it was before dream you even got to suck him off. How much more pathetic could he be.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“Yeah, m’fine, it’s just...” your eyes are distracted, staring off into space. Fingers trace his thighs, and you sigh. “You were having a nightmare,”

Levi blinks. “What?”

“You were having a nightmare,” you repeat. “Kept tossing and turning and groaning in your sleep. And you kept making these... funny faces,”

“...right,” he nods. Sure, a nightmare. A nightmare he never wanted to wake up from.

It takes about ten minutes to reassure you that yes, he was fine, don’t mind the way his cheeks are flushed, he was just... shaken up from his nightmare, is all. Then you’re back to bed, sleeping the night away, and twenty minutes later he’s on his way back to bed too; this time with a fresh pair of boxers and a content look on his face, all thanks to him finishing off his fantasies in the communal bathroom during his shower.

The door makes a quiet click when he shuts it behind him, and he freezes when he catches sight of Dante sat up on your bed, tail flicking behind him as he gives Levi a knowing look.

Levi squints his eyes, and he threateningly whispers, “you tell no one.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

epilogue

The half empty room brings a frown to your face, and all you could do was pout as you sealed up the last of the boxes.

“Why do you have to leave again?” you ask, and Levi turns around as he finishes folding the last of his clothes. He shrugs. “Cats aren’t allowed in the dorms.”

You owed him your entire college career, that much was sure. The RA’s found out about Dante, and Levi had taken the fall to spare you. He wasn’t required to move out since it was only his first strike, but he insisted on doing so so that Dante wouldn’t be alone, saying he already found an apartment nearby and he’ll never hear the end of it from you if he didn’t take Dante with him.

Bullshit. Levi had a soft spot for Dante, you knew that much. He wasn’t doing it for you, he was doing it for himself. Though normally you’d be overjoyed to know that Levi really did secretly like the cat he pretended to hate so much, this time, you were just pissed. You couldn’t believe a fucking cat was stealing away the guy you’ve been in love with since high school. Sure, you were too much of a coward to ask him out, but he was basically your boyfriend already—- the entire campus knew you inadvertently had dibs on each other.

“Yeah but... do you have to leave me alone?”

“I asked you to come with me, and you said no.” He points out. “I still don’t see why when we’ve been roommates since we were freshmen.”

“It’s different off-campus!”

“How?”

“Because it’s like... it’s like we’re moving in together, y’know?” you reply. “And it seemed wrong to move in with you when we’re not even dating.”

“Let’s do it, then.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, handing you a spare key to what you could only assume was his new apartment. You glance between him and the key in your hands, and he rolls his eyes when he realizes that you still don’t get it.

“I know we’re doing this backwards since couples don’t typically move in before the first date,” he says before gesturing to Dante. “But we already have a son, and I know you’re his favorite parent. We can share custody until you can move in with me.”

You blink. “What?” Your brain stopped working when Levi referred to you as a couple, and you’re pretty sure your heart stopped beating too. At this point, anything he said went in one ear and out the other. He flicks your forehead.

“Hey— ow! What was that for?”

“You weren’t listening.”

“And you’re being a prick!” you grumble. “It hurts, y’know.”

He scoffs. “What do you want me to do? Kiss it better?” he scoffs.

Your mouth moves faster than your brain, “I’d rather you kiss me.”

Wait. What?

Before you could go back on your words, Levi shrugs. Warm palms gently grab your cheeks, pulling your face closer to his. Your eyes widen and you momentarily freeze, brain definitely not working anymore. He hesitates when you don’t make a move, but then you’re shyly leaning forward, and that was all the confirmation Levi needs.

“If you insist,” he whispers, and suddenly your words die on your tongue when his lips interlock with yours.

If you want to be added to the tag list, click this link!

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman imagine #levi imagine #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan imagine #aot imagine #shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk x reader #shingeki no kyojin imagine #snk imagine #writing

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fandomness--randomness · 3 years

Text

Not so Hard Run Ins {Reiner Braun x Reader}

Warnings: none, just fluff and embarrassing stuff lol

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: You just wanted to return a shirt Marco had lended you, instead you found yourself face to face with your longtime crush.... or rather face to chest.

inspired by this tiktok

Anyways - I love Reiner and his hella mommy milkers (I've loved this hoe since season 1, I am the ultimate Reiner simp)

Sasha let out a long groan as she stretched her arms high above her head. Her joints cracked and popped as she did so. “Gah! I’m so hungry!” She whined.

“Please - you’re hungry all the time.” You chuckled softly, landing a light punch across Sasha’s arm. The girl overreacted, splayed herself across the porch banister and placed the back of her hand across her forehead like some kind of damsel in distress.

“Oh woe is me! I have been slain!” She cried out.

Connie, who was walking from the training field with Jean and Marco, quickly joined in on the antics. He laid himself across the banister next to Sasha in a similar fashion and began to lament of their shared demise. Something about how if Sasha, his partner in crime and fellow prankster, died - he too would die of heartbreak and boredom.

Rolling your eyes, you walk into the cafeteria with Marco as Jean attempts to pull them out of their improve scene.

“When those two start acting up, I can’t help but feel old.” You muttered as you snatched a plate of whatever mediocre slop they had been feeding the training corps the last three years and some stale bread.

Marco chuckled. “Come on (Y/N), don’t say that. You’re only a few years older than us. It’s not like you’re some old lady who can barely walk.” He sat down on the bench gently while you plopped down without a care.

Rolling your shoulder, you scoffed. “I sure feel like it with all this hand to hand combat lately. I just want to get back to ODM training already.”

Two more, much taller figures than you and Marco sat down across from you with their own meals.

“Well now, if you’re an old lady does that make Bertholdt and I old men?” Reiner joked before taking a bite of his bread. “We’re the same age after all.” He added, sending you a soft smile.

Clenching your fist under the table, you turned your gaze to your dinner and fought back the oncoming heat to your cheeks. You’re not sure when it happened - but along the path of tough,constant training and awkward teenage development, you found yourself in love with the muscular blond. You didn’t think much of him at first, thinking he was just like the other stupid boys from your village that showed off their muscles in an attempt to woo girls like you and your friends.

But that idea began to crumble when his brotherly nature was revealed and he offered a helping hand to the other cadets when they needed it. The misconception was practically destroyed the day he offered to carry you back to camp after you had rammed right into a tree while using ODM gear. You had originally wanted to curse out Eren for being overly cocky and nearly crashing into you, which caused you to overcorrect and smash into the tree - but the feeling of Reiner’s muscular back against your chest was just too distracting. That night you practically ran to bed in an embarrassed mess.

Tonight would no doubt be the same if Reiner continued to joke around with you.

Shoveling some food into your mouth, you leaned onto the table with your elbows and pointed the old spoon at Reiner. “I’m - what - 3 months older than you? I’ve practically got years of wisdom on you.”

Reiner laughed at your remark just as the rest of your friends joined the table - Sasha and Connie sporting reddened ears and Jean nearly having a vein in his forehead pop.

Smiling at your fellow cadets, you let yourself fall into the flow of conversation. And although you loved and appreciated all your friends, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over to Reiner every once in a while.

Thankfully, there was no after dinner training - so the cadets had a few hours of freetime until the lights went out. This gave you the chance to finally get around to cleaning your laundry and refreshing your ODM gear.

While others found doing laundry to be a pain Sasha, you found the rhythmic pattern to be soothing and comfortable. Because of this, more than often, you would do laundry for yourself and few of your friends.

Popping your head into the giant dorm room, you called out to the rest of the girls. “Hey, does anyone need their laundry done? I want to get it done before it gets dark so give it to me now if you want.” Most of the girls shook their head, thanking you for the offer, but some of the others handed off small baskets of clothes and bedsheets.

“Thank you so much (Y/N)!” Christa exclaimed.

You smiled back at her. “It’s no problem. This way they'll be able to dry overnight if need be.”

Walking back outside with a few more baskets of laundry, you set to work. It was the height of summer and the sun was still beating down on the poor training corps. Thankfully, it hadn’t rained in some time so there was no lingering humidity that would prolong the drying process.

It was so hot and dry that your first round of laundry was done drying by the time you finished washing the entire load. Pulling the dry laundry off of the pins, you brought them inside and to their appropriate owners before going to the equipment building to clean and polish your ODM gear.

By the time you returned to the hanging clothes, the sun was starting to set.

You smiled in victory at the realization that all of the laundry had dried. Setting everything in the appropriate baskets, you lugged the now clean clothes and bedsheets inside. The girls who had taken up your offer thanked you again as they readied themselves for bed.

Taking your own basket to your bed (thank god for having the bottom bunk) you began to unload and fold the laundry. All was normal until you came across a large navy blue shirt. It was certainly too big to be yours and you didn’t own anything like this.

Then you remembered. Slapping a hand across your forehead, you let out a long sigh.

The week prior, Sasha had knocked you right into the mud during some after dinner training. Thankfully Marco and Jean were watching the two of you, so being the kind soul he was, Marco rushed into his dorm and grabbed an extra shirt for you to change into quickly.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you glanced out the window. The sun had set, but the torches outside and lights inside the other buildings were still lit.

Turning to Mikasa, you asked, “do you think I have enough time to return this shirt to Marco? Before lights out?”

The ravenette glanced at you, the shirt, outside the window, and then back to you. She nodded lightly. “Yeah, I think it’s safe. The sun set only a few minutes ago. Lights shouldn’t be called for another 30 minutes.”

Letting out a breath of relief, you jogged out the door and called out a thanks to Mikasa for her stable judgment.

It wasn’t uncommon for cadets to go back and forth between the dorms despite their gender. You and Sasha were often found invading Jean and Connie’s space to beg them to play cards with you two and Marco. Eren and Armin always seemed to be calling for Mikasa to come hang out with them too. But that was when the sun was out.

Going to the others’ dormitory building when the sun had already set was sort of...taboo among cadets, even if it was technically allowed.

No one just wanted to walk into the dorms when the chance of walking into the other cadets changing or even bathing were at its peak. But this was just a quick trip in and out. You’d be fine.

Slipping into the boys dormitory hall, you started the familiar trek to the dorm room Marco was in. It was practically ingrained into your head at this point (not to mention that the dorm buildings’ layouts were the exact same). You expected to run in and run out - no issues.

That was until you turned a corner and came face first with a wall. At least that’s what you would’ve thought if the wall didn’t let out a surprised grunt.

Horror flooded through your veins as you realized your cheek was pressed right against someone’s bare chest, the heat of their skin radiating across your face. Glancing up, that horror doubled - no, tripled - in size.

You hadn’t just ran into some random boy. No - you had just ran right into Reiner Braun, who was only clad in a towel around his waist with skin still damp from his shower.

The red blush you had pushed back at dinner came back full force. The two of you stared at each other for a moment in surprise. Reiner’s own blush spread across his cheeks and ears.

“He’s really warm.” You thought. “And a lot more muscular than I thought. Yet his chest is so soft. I feel like I could fall asleep on it.” You stared at his deep hazel eyes. “I really want to run my hands across his chest. Does he have abs too? Oh what I would do to be able to let my hands wander down furth-”

A droplet of water from Reiner’s hair dripped onto your nose.

“THIS IS FOR MARCO PLEASE GIVE IT TO HIM!” You screamed, shoving the now wrinkled shirt into Reiner’s chest.

Not waiting for a response, you turned onto your heel and ran out of the dorm practically screaming - a high pitched whine and curses following your wake. You didn’t stop until you had your face planted into the mattress and body huddled in blankets.

Your entire body was on fire as your friends questioned what had happened. Some were more worried, like Christa; while others immediately thought the worst may have happened like Mikasa and Sasha. Eventually, when you kept shaking your head and refused to come out of your blankets, your friend retired to their beds. All except Sasha, who sat next to you, swinging her legs back and forth as she waited.

Peeking out of the blanket, you looked up at her.

“I did something so embarrassing, Sash.”

#reiner braun x reader #reiner braun #reiner braun imagine #aot oneshots #attack on titan #attack on titan imagine #reiner braun and mommy milkers #I love this man so much #I just wanna hold his hand so badly #and ride his d!ck even more #{🥵 - thirsting}

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 3 years

Text

Rose Shampoo

Summary: After a hard day Alcina tries to take a nice bubble bath. But her own troubled thoughts keep her from enjoying it. Luckily her three feral children and their rubber ducks are there to provide a distraction.

Idk felt like doing something fluffy and cute lol. And what’s more wholesome than a bubble bath and rubber ducks?

Alcina listens to the thunder of water as it pours into the bathtub. She lets her dress fall to the floor and lifts it up to toss it into the hamper with the rest of her dirty clothing. She tips a dainty glass bottle, along with a trail of soft pink liquid comes the charming aroma of roses. She arranges a few candles upon the rim of the bathtub and puts the needle on the record player. It crackles and fizzes to life with an elegant violin melody.

She lights the candles, picks up her glass of blood-wine, and slips into the bathtub. She leans back and closes her eyes as the steam rolls off of the water and over her body. She can’t remember the last time she had bathed in water and not blood and she finds that, to her surprise, it is more pleasant that she remembers. It has been some time since she has had a chance to relax like this. To truly lay back and pretend, if only for a moment, that she is untroubled.

Her head has been aching lately, the product of stress and discontent. Perhaps if she remains in the bathtub long enough, these things will wash away. She takes a sip of her wine and set it aside, between two of the flickering candles. She watches beads of wax drip down the candles. In due time it will begin to trail down the porcelain and join her in the water.

She finds her shampoo, the same bottle she had used to create a light froth of bubbles on the surface of the water. She massages it into her hair until her head feels lighter, more elegant and then she tilts her head back to rinse the bubbles away. She only comes up with more of them so she momentarily turns the faucet back on again.

Alcina leans back for another moment, inhaling the delicate scent of rose petals. She reaches for the soap and begins scrubbing her arms and legs. For a moment she feels human again. And for that same moment she feels confliction. She contemplates whether or not she misses being human.

As she scrubs at her chest and belly, she decides that she doesn’t. Not at all. Mother Miranda had come to her too late, her body has already begun to age and it has halted right in the middle of the process. And she remembers why she has stopped taking baths. Why she finds showers to be infinitely better.

Showers leave her with less room to contemplate and scrutinize. Less room to dwell upon the scars on her arms and the wrinkles on her face. Less room to resent the softness of her belly that has come with age and spoils.

Feeling, once again, dizzy with insecurity she puts the soap aside and hugs her arms to her chest as though that can shield her from her private vulnerabilities. As though that could shield her from her own eyes and her own mind.

She rubs her hands up and down her face, she wishes that she could appreciate herself. Her musings are cut mercifully short at the sound of three sets of knocks. “Mother!”

“Just a--”

They do not wait for her to finish let alone dress herself before they barge in. Three doe-eyed children that look upon her with innocent eyes. “Daniela says that you forgot the most important thing!”

“What’s that?” She asks.

Daniela teeters on forward and holds out a rubber duck. “This, mother! You forgot your duck!” Without so much as a warning she chucks it into the bathtub knocking over a candle and the glass of wine. “Whoopsie.”

Alcina pinches the bridge of her nose and turns around to collect the wine glass and candle.

“You’re in trouble now, Daniela.” Cassandra sing-songs.

And by all means, she very well would have been had she not distracted Alcina from another downward spiral. She pinches the rubber duck between her fingers and observes it. It is such a hideous thing with googly little eyes and a vile color. “Disgusting.” She mutters to herself.

“Do you love him?” Cassandra asks.

“We named him Fredward.” Bela puts in.

“Fred...ward?” Alcina mumbles.

“I wanted to call him Fredrick.” Daniela says.

“And I wanted him to be named Edward.” Cassandra adds.

“So I said we’d name him Fredward.” Bela, ever the voice of reason, declares.

“That’s a...lovely name darlings.” Alcina chuckles. She plucks the duck back into the water. She doesn’t yet turn back around. “Why don’t the three of you get your other bath toys, in the meantime I will watch…” she sighs again, “Fredward.”

“Okay, mother!” They say in unison.

She waits for them to scramble out of the bathroom, without closing the door, to rise from the tub. She grabs herself a towel and tries not to think too much about the softness of her figure as she pats herself dry. Quickly she tosses on a night robe and hopes that the three of them will be back before she drives herself to tears.

She drains the tub, blows out the candles, and collects them all. Bela, Cassandra, and Daniel appear with more toys than there is tub space and that is without Bela’s bright red floatie.

“Daniela, where are your clothes?”

“It’s bath time, mother, I don’t need them!”

Alcina inhales. “Manners, Daniela. You wait until you are in the bathroom to disrobe. If Bela and Cassandra can wait, you can too.” She will teach these children yet.

But waiting is not Daniela’s strong suit. The girl darts past her and leaps into the tub. Frankly, Alcina is impressed that she has managed to leap so high. “I got Fredward!” She declares.

Alcina helps Bela and Cassandra into the tub. “What kind of shampoo do we want, darlings?”

“Coconut!” Cassandra declares.

“Lavender, please.” Bela smiles.

“All of them at once!” Daniela throws her hands up, several droplets of bathwater splatter upon Alcina’s cheeks. She dabs them away. “We need more bubbles too, mother!”

Alcina rolls her eyes. “Then you shall have more bubbles.” She reaches for the shampoo bottles. She hears Daniela screech with delight and, for now, bathtime makes her smile again.

#Alcina Dimitrescu #Lady Dimitrescu #Bela Dimitrescu #Cassandra Dimitrescu #Daniela Dimitrescu #Fanfiction #Fluff

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yungbud · 3 years

Text

Silent Treatment+X

Req? Yes! @madonnasinn said: Can you write a smut about Dom ignoring y/n over a petty fight they had a few days ago, and y/n parades in a very tiny skirt around him when they go out to have dinner with his friends (to get his attention). He then gets really mad because all the guys keep eyeing her, which she knows he hates so she tempts him and fuck in the restaurant bathroom 🤭 just a lil idea i had LOL

Word Count: 2.4K

Tw:Light choking, semi-public sex acts, a little bit of thigh spanking/smacking, idk smut obviously.

A/N: Feast

—

You sat in the kitchen with Dom. Well, Dom sat, you stood, washing the dishes as he talked to you about how the album was going.

“I’ve just been so stressed for the past three fookin weeks trying to get this done. I just want it to be perfect, you know? And I keep wanting to go back and tweak it but Gav tells me not to.” Dom ranted, absentmindedly picking at his nailpolish while he did.

You reached for the knob of the faucet, turning the water on to rinse off the dish in your hand, accidentally turning it too high and ending up being splashed with water, soaking the bottom half of your shirt.

That reminded you, tomorrow you had to do the laundry, then clean Dom and your shared room, then you’d have to shower– No, that wouldn’t work. You’d have to shower then do laundry before you leave, or else you’d end up being late for your appointment.

God, these last few weeks had just been so stressful. You felt like you barely had a chance to breathe, you’d finish one thing and up would pop the next. Oh, and you couldn’t forget lunch right after your appointment. You hoped there wouldn’t be traffic, you can’t be late because (Y/B/F) would only be visiting you on their lunch break, they’d have to go back to work straight after.

Who were you kidding, it’s LA, of course there’d be traffic.

Should you reschedule? You were both so busy as is and this was the one time your schedules had allowed you to meet up in what must’ve been months.

Shit, you thought, how long had it been? You began replaying the last few months in your head as you absentmindedly scrubbed at the plate in hand.

“And you’re not even listening.” Dom pouted.

“No, no I am. That’s great sweetie.”

“What’d I just say.” He tests, looking at you, his raised brow doing very little to hide the fact that he’s annoyed.

“You were talking about the uh- The uhm,” You paused, mustering all your brain cells to remember what he had just been talking about. The towel squished between your hand and the counter as you leaned against the sink, your fingers coming up to stroke the bridge of your nose as you thought “The drums, you just finished the last of it, right?”

The oven dinged, signalling the food needed tending too. Your mind flipped as you searched the kitchen for the oven mit.

Where could you have possibly put it if not right next to the oven where you could’ve sworn you left it. You spun, searching the other counters, even going as far as to look in the sink before realizing it had slid to the floor right below where you put it. Sighing, you leaned down to grab it, pulling open the oven to tend to tonight’s dinner.

“Uh, what else happened today?” You ask, trying to keep your mind on track. You were careful not to burn yourself as fussed with the food

“Shit, babe can you hand me the tongs?” You ask, reaching a hand out behind you. That’s when you realized he hadn’t responded.

“Babe?” You try again, turning around only to realize he’d already left. You scoffed, grabbing it for yourself before leaning back. Standing straight, you take a moment to bask in the warmth of the oven before closing it.

*~Three days later~*

Dom raised his head to look at you, your spoon clinking against the side of your bowl signalling your entrance of the living room. He looked back to the TV just as soon as he had looked over, obviously too invested in whatever he was watching to acknowledge your existence. A sigh of relief left your lips when your butt hit the cushions, leaning back into the inviting, cushiony supports.

“Ugh, this week has been so stressful. I feel like I haven’t had the chance to sit in like… forever.” You say, your eyes focusing on what was playing in front of you. It was an old episode of the great british bake off.

You laughed a bit, but it came off more as a hum.

“You know, I heard when contestants would cry, Mel and Sue would stand by them and use un-airable language so the footage wouldn’t make it to the final cut. Isn’t that so thoughtful?” You say, trying to perk some conversation out of the boy sitting next to you.

He wasn’t responding. Your eyebrows furrowed as you searched through anything you might’ve said to upset him recently. You couldn’t think of a single thing, come to think of it, what was the last thing you had said to him? Hell, when was it?

You realized quickly your last exchange was in the kitchen, and even that had been cut short by him leaving.

Yes, that’s right. When you had crawled in bed with him that night, he had been asleep and you were in such a rush the next morning you couldn’t remember if he was awake next to you when you woke up. He wasn’t exactly avoiding you as much as he was not talking to you.

Had he seriously been giving you the silent treatment for that long?

“Is everything okay?” You tried, sure you were only getting in your own head. Your eyes had completely left the TV at this point, focusing solely on the quiet boy next to you. There was no response, not even so much as a nod.

“You haven’t talked to me in almost a week.” You continued

“Doesn’t matter. Even if i did, you wouldn’t be listening.” Dom retorted

“I’m sorry i made you feel that way. It honestly was not my intention, i’ve just been so caught up this week.” You were sorry, but it seemed awfully ridiculous to have gone this long giving you the silent treatment just because you had been distracted.

The conversation ended entirely there.

Dom hadn’t said more than two words to you since your argument, doing everything in his power to avoid you. It wasn’t hard, after all he was a very busy man. Especially with the release of his new album coming up, there were interviews and meetings to be had, but at a certain point they became less of a responsibility and more of an excuse.

You were on twitter, you had seen his fans practically begging him to take a break, but taking a break would mean seeing you, and that just wasn’t something he had been in the mood to do recently. It was bad enough already that he had to go to dinner with you.

That was okay, you would help him get in the mood. Or, rather, out of his mood. If Dom wanted to be petty, fine, you could be petty.

You slipped the soft material up your legs, admiring your reflection in the mirror. If Dom was going to ignore you, you were going to give him something to ignore.

You knew this skirt would do the trick, every time you saw another girl or, fuck it, boy, prouncing around and one of these skirts even you nearly fucked them. Everybody looked good in these, it was a fact of life, you’d decided. You knew you definitely looked good, you almost had to stop for a moment and touch yourself to the sight, but glancing at the clock you realized you didn’t have nearly enough time for a bit of self pleasure.

You were practically already running late, spending all your time getting yourself ready to grab Dom’s attention. You added some finishing touches before heading out to the living room where Dom sat, waiting for you patiently.

Any other time Dom would’ve been right next to you in the bathroom, admiring your work on your makeup, outfit and hair, but today he stayed in the living room

You tried not to smirk as you made your way into his line of vision. The look on his face was completely worth the hours of tireless work, though. He’d turned his head to look at you, a distinct glare replaced by shock, his eyes widening a bit as they landed on your outfit. It was tight and loose in all the right places and only added to your stunning features.

“What?” You teased,

He tried to recover quickly, returning to his pouty state, not even bothering with a response as you followed him out the door.

You were sitting at the table, surrounded by you and Dom’s friends when someone finally made a comment on your appearance.

“You look really good, (Y/N).” Tom commented, everyone nodding in agreement as the conversation momentarily shifted to you.

“Thank you! I thought so.” You praise yourself, smiling down at your outfit.

The conversation drifted off again, a newfound confidence bubbling up in your chest. You reached over to Dom, grabbing his hand and placing it on your thigh. It stayed there for a moment before he moved it, and it continued on like that. You did everything in your power to remind him of how good you looked and how short your skirt was until he motioned for you to stand. A couple eyes turned to you as you walked off, but no one asked any questions.

Dom was practically dragging you, your feet fumbling as you struggled to keep up with his long strides. When you realized where you were headed you glanced at him, eyes wide, but he wasn’t looking back. His eyes were focused on the bathroom doors ahead, his jaw clenched, gorgeous green eyes shadowed by his black eyeliner.

“Dom, what are you doing?” You began to plead, uncomfortably aware of the fact that you were about to walk into a bathroom with your boyfriend in front of the whole restaurant. You glanced around, checking for any cameras or onlooking eyes. There were none in sight, but you knew that didn’t mean much.

Your head clobbered light as he pinned you to the stall, his eyes burning into your own. Your gaze faltered, looking everywhere but him. Normally sex with Dom never made you nervous, he had always managed to make you feel safe and comfortable, but going from complete silence to being pinned against a stall in The Olive Garden so abruptly made you timid. His hand pressed down on your shoulder, your legs bending until your knees hit the tiled floor, staring up at him through your lashes. Dom hastily unbuttoned his pants, maintaining his gaze, er, glare on you. Your eyes flickered from his own to his hard dick springing from its constraints, watching as he stroked himself achingly slow before his tip slid past your lips, sliding himself across your tongue a few times, his head leaning back as he felt the warmth of your mouth surround him.

You hollowed out your cheeks, eyes remaining on his expression. When you reached up to replace his hand with your own you felt a harsh tug on your hair. It took you a moment to realize what he wanted from you, but when you realized you let your jaw go slack. Dom’s hand remained wrapped around the base of his cock, shoving it down your throat unexpectedly, causing you to gag.

Your mouth hung open, weary not to let your teeth scrape against him as he thrust into your mouth. You pulled back a bit as you gagged, your head lightly hitting against the wall behind you. Dom continued to push forward, his hard cock pushing farther and farther back in your throat. You were pinned between his thrusting hips and the bathroom stall, you had no choice but to let him fuck your throat.

Not that you were complaining.

Well, you couldn’t.

You gagged around him, hands coming up to grip at his hips as he continued to use your mouth to get himself off, angelic moans falling from his plush lips.

Dom finally took mercy on you, pulling away and grabbing your chin with his thumb and forefinger, staring down at you.

“You look so pretty gagging on my dick.” He says, wiping the tear coming from your eye. His hand makes its way down to your neck, wrapping around it and pulling you to your feet.

“Or maybe it’s just that fucking skirt.” He adds, slapping your thigh before lifting the skirt up to reveal your lace underwear. A groan slips past his lips, bringing his fingers against your core. You let out a sigh of relief as his fingers rubbed against your clit, glad to finally get some relief after all this time. It was short lived, though, as he pulled you to your feet using the grip he had on your throat, tilting your head up to look at him.

The air around you seemed to freeze, your eyes roamed eachothers faces, desperate for one another. His lips came against yours slowly and then all at once, his hand remaining around your throat as his tongue slipped its way into your mouth. The hand that wasn’t wrapped around your throat remained between your legs, working steadily at making your legs shake for him.

It was almost embarrassing how ready you were for him, so needy that the slightest touch beckoned a whine. Things became heated again quickly, his hands moving from your neck to your thighs, a quick hop before you wrapped them around his waist.

Dom reached between your legs, trying his best to move the material without dropping you, eventually giving in and letting you do it instead. Reaching between your legs, you wrapped your hand around him, lining his hard dick up with your aching core. He paused there for a moment, enjoying the feeling before pushing himself in. His lips reconnected with your own, thrusting into you a few times before sighing and setting you back to the floor. Your eyebrows furrowed up at him, unsure what to do before he was spinning your around, pinning your face against the wall. You felt him slide between your lips once more before pushing in. It took him a moment to find his rhythm, but soon you were being pounded against the bathroom stall, pathetic moans falling from both your lips, Your senses clouded by pleasure leaving you completely lost to your surroundings.

You would have to be petty more often.

#Yungblud #yungblud smut #yungblud fanfic #yungblud x reader #dominic harrison smut #dominic harrison angst #dominic harrison fanfic #dominic harrison x reader #yungblud angst #submission

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atalho-s · 3 years

Text

Light Up The Dark

Part 1 | June

pairing: bartender!tom x famous!reader

warnings: some smut +18 (in this particular chapter it’s nothing TOO explicit, but miniors be aware), swear words?, drinking, let me know if anything else!

words: 4.9 k

summary: y/n is a famous horror writer. Her books are on the lips of the people and her face is on all the magazine covers of promising young people.

She has just moved to Los Angeles, the city of celebrities and luxury, when she starts to get a writer's block as she starts writing her newest book. A way to distract herself and seek inspiration leads her to have her destiny mapped out with a simple waiter named Tom who has a delicious british accent.

What happens when her inspiration comes back only after she spends a night with him and she only manages to write after being in the company of that guy she just met? Maybe he'll become her newest addiction.

a/n: english it’s not my first language, so i’m sorry for any mistake! this is a series i started writing a while ago, i hope y’all enjoy :) the reader it’s from brazil here, but you can replace from any country you want lol And obv i’m not from LA and never been there, so if i say something out of reality it’s bc of that 😂

"June arrived at the restaurant, sat down near the bar and looked around vaguely. The strange people's faces made her think better and maybe drink a shot of tequila too.

She opened his folder with the horrifying photos of the mysterious case. She felt sick to her stomach.

People said that by then she should have been used to see this kind of thing, but that was repulsive.

She wish the nightmare she had the night before was a way to solve that puzzle, but believing in the afterlife now wouldn't help her... If...If..."

- Damn it... - Y/n slammed her fist on the table. - Writer's block sucks. - She said and took the last sip of her tea.

It s been a week since she couldn't write anything. She would write maybe two paragraphs, maybe even three if she got lucky, but she always ended up erasing it, because she always turned into something meaningless or too cliche.

Damn the time she had promised to deliver something to her editor by the end of the month. But she hadn't counted on the lack of ideas when she agreed to that.

She got up from her chair in frustration and crossed her arms, pacing, as if her creativity had gone out for a walk and she was waiting impatiently for it to come back.

Why had she agreed to write a new book in the first place? She didn't need money. Their previous four books were already making huge profits, and they were going to make a new television series based on one of them.

So why writing another one? Maybe because, she had been having too many nightmares lately. Many family and friends told her to see a psychologist, see if she didn't have some hidden trauma. But looking for a psychologist? Admitting your weaknesses and personal things to a stranger? Never. That would be horrifying.

Writing helped. Transferring his fears to pages was hers gift. When she wrote she didn't have nightmares, didn't see things, wasn't sad. It was like a drug, a calming medicine.

Maybe fame was also making her restless lately. She hated being the spotlight, being the magazine cover of promising young people. She hated to see her name highlighted. But she loved having readers, yes. She loved when someone felt good reading her books or in the good sense of the word: terrified by her stories.

At the height of her 25 years, he never thought her books would become famous at that point. She had always enjoyed writing since she was a child, but working with it was just an unattainable dream. Until, at age 19, she quit her hideous job as a hotel receptionist and decided to publish her first story.

Obviously there were many rejections, until a publisher agreed to publish their work. From then on, her books became more and more known. They called her the new horror genius, the mystery queen, and sometimes even "Stephen King's lost daughter."

She didn't think it was all that. But she accepted the descriptions gladly. No wonder her books didn't come out of the top spot on the best sellers.

Another thing that motivated her to continue with that story, was a phrase from her own idol mentioned, Stephen King: "good stories are those that stay in the head for a long time". And God only knew how that story had been with her for far too long. She always wanted to put it down on paper, so here she was trying to put into words what her head brought up as random thoughts.

But now she was having one of his first creative blocks. Obviously she had already had it with previous books, but nothing as frustrating as this one. She had been trying hard for days, which was exhausting.

She looked at the clock on the wall: 11pm. Who knows if she took another break before starting writing again? Maybe it would help to come up with more ideas.

She thought about watching a show or movie, but he wasn't in the mood. She looked at her long polka dot pajamas under her favorite warm robe and snorted. Go out? On a Thursday night? On a cold night? No way.

But what if it helped her have more writing material? Watching people on the street really helped. If June, the character in her book, was in a bar, maybe if she went to one too it would help to have something to build on.

Writers did it all the time. Describe places that already existed, situations similar to which they lived. So, it wouldn't be new. Maybe she'd even put the location in her tribute if helped she got out of her creative block.

She took a deep breath and went to take a shower. It was decided, she would go out. She put on her best jeans, a Ramones T-shirt with a leather jacket. It wasn't a fancy outfit, but she didn't intend to go somewhere fancy anyway. Her stylist would have been dying to see her now, but she didn't care one bit.

She went out pressing the bottom of the elevator. Y/n had lived on the top floor of a building for 2 months, right in downtown Los Angeles. Sometimes she didn't even know why she chose to live there, she hated the big city and what came with it: paparazzi, celebrities, crazy people who feel superior, wealth and luxury. She came from a humble family, so she always felt like an outsider.

Y/n arrived downstairs and left the condominium calling a taxi that was passing in the street just in time. She walked in and closed the door, crossing her arms, trying to ward off the cold.

- Good night miss, where are you going? - the driver asked looking at her in the rearview mirror.

- Good night... Actually I don't know, do you have any suggestions for a bar around here?- she asked looking out the window. She didn't even bother to look for suggestions for places nearby.

- Well, it depends on what you're looking for... Something luxurious or something fun? - He said and a smiled played on the corer of her mouth. Luxurious was the opposite of fun indeed.

- Something fun, of course.

- So, I suggest the new Seven Devils bar, it's less than 20 minutes from here... - he said.

- Interesting name... Could be. - She said shrugging.

- The name is kinda creepy, but the place is cozy and welcoming, I went once. - the driver said starting and entering the street that was practically empty for being a weekday.

- Cool... - Y/n said looking at the city lights through the window.

After nearly twenty minutes the taxi stopped in front of what appeared to be a small door with a security guard in front of it. The neon sign indicated the name of the place, it seemed a mysterious place for those who passed by without knowing it.

- Thanks. - Y/n said handing the driver the money.

- You're not the Y/n Y/l/n? I didn't want to say anything, but I'm a fan of you, I love your books, they help me pass the time while I wait for passengers. - the driver asked turning a little with one of the Y/n books in his hand. - Could you sign this for me?

- Sure! - Y/n spoke excitedly taking the book from his hand and leaving a message along with her signature. - Thanks for the tip of the place. Have a good night... - She said opening the door.

- No, thank you, have a good night miss. -he said and she smiled closing the door and the taxi left leaving her alone looking at the door in front of her.

She approached the security guard who wished her good night, giving her room to enter, after she showed her ID. Y/n entered a little afraid of what she would find. The door behind her closed and she looked around. It was really cozy as the taxi driver said, it had a part with several tables, which were a little empty and a bar with stools around. The place had a good atmosphere, one of those that people go there to meet and chat with friends, in the background there was a kind of pop song that she wasn't sure if she knew or not.

He slowly approached the bar and sat down on one of the stools. A woman with several tattoos appeared behind the counter and came to serve her.

- Good night! How can I serve you?- she asked with a smile.

- Good night... Hm... Maybe a martini? - Y/n said taking a look at the drinks on the shelf behind the attendant.

- Okay, I'll be back with your order, anything else?

- That's it for now, thanks. - She replied smiling and the attendant walked away.

Y/n kept looking around, watching people, maybe looking for some inspiration. Something that would turn the key in his mind. Many who were there were in groups of friends and were talking animatedly, laughing. Some young and some older, in suits and ties, perhaps coming out of work.

Until one guy in particular caught her attention. He wore the black uniform with the name of the place, with an apron tied around the waist of the same color, and was picking up some glasses from some empty tables. He had dark brown hair slicked back and eyes the same color, very expressive and large. A boy's face from the outside, but on the inside had a mysterious and confident air.

He balanced a tray full of things with an greatest skill in one hand and smiled at some people, he seemed charming because everytime he left a table he left people whispering and giggling embarrassed behind his back.

He walked over and entered the bar placing the tray behind the counter, came close to the other attendant who already had the Y/n martini ready and she could hear him talking, soon realizing he had a perfect accent.

- Sally, you can leave it to me, go take your break. Whose martini is it?- he asked taking a look around.

- Oh thank you, my feet are killing me. It's the girl over there. -she said indicating Y/n with her head and he looked at her, making Y/n realize that she was staring at him for too long, so she looked away embarrassed.

- Okay. - he said looking at where Y/n was sitting and stopped in front of her with the glass. - Good night miss, here is your order. - He spoke with a british accent. Only at that moment did Y/n realize that his accent was well loaded and God only knows how much she loved that accent.

- Oh yes, thank you very much. - She said raising her eyes to look at him and smiled then he blinked with one of his eyes and gave her one more look, before going to deliver another order to a man who was sitting a few benches away.

Y/n felt a shiver all of a sudden, that boy had made her legs a little weak and she didn't really know why. I mean, he was handsome, very handsome and he had a special charm, but it wasn't that much, was it? Maybe it was because it had been a while since she'd dated anyone. When was the last time? Two months ago? Since she had moved in she hadn't gone out with anyone, she had locked herself in her apartment and was writing like crazy. She didn't have time to go out, not even with her friends when she was working on a new book. Which brought them dissatisfaction from time to time, not just because she didn't hang around with them, but because she didn't even go out on one-night stands.

She never been the one that going out with a guy just for sex, she had to have some good first dates and maybe she would take him to see her apartment or go to his apartment. Friends of hers thought she was too old in her spirit, but what can he do? If she couldn't be bad girl once in a while. For a moment she thought, "For this english guy I would be" but shook her head away from the thoughts. She went back to analyzing him, dammit why did he have to be so fit? She could see that the T-shirt he was wearing highlighted his muscles that were only left to her imagination, she found herself biting her lip a bit and snatching her martini off the counter, taking a big sip.

The attendant approached again, drying some glasses with a towel, and took one more look in her direction where she looked away quickly making him smirk. He stopped in front of her again, bracing her arms on the counter, making her swallow hard. He didn't know why she was so nervous, he was just a guy, no biggie.

- I like the shirt. - He pointed with a smile, which made her think he had a beautiful and endearing smile. She looked down and then looked at him smiling too.

- Thank you... Ramones is everything... - she said and drank the last sip of her drink placing the empty glass in front of her right after. - Can you serve one more?

- Sure...- he said, still smiling, took the bottle and filled his glass again. - Trying to distract yourself on a thursday night?

- Yeah... you could say yes... - she said taking another sip. - Have you worked here for a long time?

- In fact, it's been almost six months since I moved to the United States and I've been working here for four months. -he said putting the towel that was in his hand on his shoulder.

- Hm... You're from London?

- I am, wow how did you find out? - he asked raising an eyebrow playfully and she smiled.

- Yeah, your accent really doesn't give out anything ... - she said and he gave a low laugh making her have more goose bumps.

- You also have a different accent, have you lived here for a long time? - he didn't know who she was, which was good. But it also wasn't like she was recognized all the time, despite her face being on magazine covers, she was still a writer, so she was only recognized by those who liked to read or who vaguely remembered her face.

- I was born in Brazil actually, but I've lived here for years, lived in another city for almost five years and now I've decided to come to Los Angeles two months ago...

- I see ... - he said organizing some drinks that were on the counter. - Do you like it here?

- More or less... It's a busy city, isn't it?

- Yeah, it's not for anyone. - He said shrugging. - I like it, I like the rush, but the glamor part really isn't me. - the attendant said and she smiled.

- You're right... I mean, I don't like the glam too much either... - She looked away at her nails.

- What do you work with? - he asked and she looked at him again.

- I'm a writer...

- Nice! What do you write? - He asked curious looking at her with attention.

- I write horror and thriller books.

- Interesting... I would never read, actually I'm not much of a reader anyway, but I wouldn't, because I'm terrified of those things. - He said crossing his arms and she laughed.

- Oh, it's not that terrifying, it's just stories. - She said leaning her elbows on the counter.

- Still, I prefer to have my good night's sleep intact. - He said and she laughed making him smile looking at her.

When she was about to say something, a customer signaled for him and he excused himself going towards the man who was furthest away.

Y/n sighed. She still didn't have any new ideas about her story, but she was entertained by that conversation. She liked not being recognized, she liked him not being interested in her books, for a moment she felt oblivious to anything, liked feeling disconnected from her world.

He returned shortly after and they started talking again. They talked about bands, movies, superficial celebrities and even politics (an important topic in Y/n's vision, who was very firm with her ideas, thankfully he had passed the test). She found out that he was the same age as her and that he moved to the US to look for something that would give him money or a perspective on life, ended up getting that job and intended to stay until he found a different area. The hours passed and they kept finding subjects to give their opinion or questions to ask each other.

- Did you go to college? - she asked after a while.

- No, I don't think I'm smart enough for that, or have the patience. What about you?

- Everyone is smart enough. I started going to business school, but I dropped out when my books started to pay off...

- Wow, your books should give you a good amount of money to be able to drop out of college and dedicate yourself to them...

- Yeah... You could say that. - She shrugged.

- You know looking at you closer like that...- he said getting a little closer and she held her breath for a moment. - I've seen you somewhere...

- Really? - She said raising her eyebrow and drinking from a straw, now with a different drink.

- I don't know, you're not strange to me... - he said putting his hand on his face thoughtfully.

- Well, I hope it's from somewhere nice. - She smiled and he smiled back looking at her. - Do you have a girlfriend or are you married? - Y/n asked and regretted a little, what was she thinking? He wasn't married, as he didn't have a ring on his finger as she'd noticed. But what was her intention by asking that question? She didn't even know, she just knew it had escaped her.

- Neither darling. - He replied smiling a little mischievously and she felt butterflies with the way he called her by that nickname and with that accent. - How about you?

- Neither ... - She replied avoiding looking at him, those eyes hypnotized her and she didn't like to feel at his mercy of a guy she had just met. She took the cell phone disguising but paid attention to the time. - My God, it's already 2:00 in the morning! I completely missed the time.

- I think the company ended up distracting you. - He said still not taking his eyes off her and she felt her cheeks heat up.

- Yeah, the chat was really good... But I have to go... - she said getting up.

- If you wait I can take you home, I'm already leaving, the bar is already closing. - he said and Y/n looked around seeing that some waiters were already collecting some things from the tables.

She thought for a moment, take a ride home with him? It didn't make sense, she had just met him, but at the same time she had enjoyed talking to him so much. He didn't seem like a bad person, but even so you would never know for sure. At the same time she never took any chances, why not let that pretty boy take her home? Finally, she thought: you know what? Screw this.

-Erm, ok...- She shrugged. - I'll go to the cashier to pay and wait for you outside?

- No need to pay darling, it's on me. - He spoke winking and she smiled.

- Oh no, I'll pay no problem...

- Your company has paid off your debt, it's ok. - He replied and she took a deep breath rolling her eyes.

- If you insist...- she said giving up.

He came out from behind the counter and motioned for her to follow him, arriving at the front door where the security was.

- Tuwaine, you can let her pass, it's on me. - He told the big guy and he looked at the english man, sawing his eyes suspiciously and smiling right away. Making Y/n laugh inside.

- Meet you outside? It will only take a few minutes - the attendant said and she nodded, leaving in the cold night.

She leaned against the door with her thoughts. She had come here just to get inspiration and to have her creative back, but she was coming home with an english guy. She didn't even recognize herself anymore, but to say she wasn't anxious (in a good way) was a lie.

She was lost in her thought, until minutes later he came out wearing a denim jacket, which made him look even more handsome.

- Let's go? - He said and she followed him to an old car parked right in front of the bar.

He opened the door for her to get in and she thanked him by sitting in the passenger seat, pulling on her seat belt as he closed the door. He sat down next to her right away, also putting on his belt.

- Hey, before we go: I didn't ask for your name! If you're going to take me home at least I have to know that- she asked realizing that she didn't even know that yet and he looked towards her smiling.

- Tom Holland. - He said stretching his hand. - Nice to meet you.

- Y/n Y/l/n- she said, squeezing his hand. And you can't deny that she felt butterflies in her stomach as she felt her skin on hers.

- Your name is not strange to me, I must have read it in one of your books in some shop window. - He said starting and leaving with the car.

- Yeah, who knows ... - she said and he turned on the radio leaving the volume low.

They were exchanging a few words until she indicated that they had arrived at the building where she lived. Tom parked and looked up in a daze.

- Wow, you really have money... - he said and she took off her belt turning towards him.

- A little bit...- she replied crossing her arms. - Well, thank you so much for the ride...

- You're welcome darling. - He said turning his eyes to her. Again that nickname that sounded perfect on his lips.

She turned around, but when she was about to open the door, she turned back to Tom, who was leaning with one hand on the steering wheel and watching her with attention. The next words escaped her again and she was afraid she'd regret it.

- Tom, do you want to come in? - She spoke still holding the door and the boy smiled.

- Sure ... - he said taking the key from the ignition and she shook her head slightly leaving.

He followed her and they entered the building. Tom looked at everything admired which made Y/n smile a little to herself. They entered the elevator and she pressed the penthouse button causing him to raise an eyebrow.

- You really must be a great writer. - he said and she laughed.

He leaned his back against the elevator wall, putting his hands in his pocket and looking her up and down, making her shy. He kept looking at her and it was making her nervous.

They were silent until the elevator opened after a while and they got out. Y/n put a password on the door and it swung open with a small click, she took held the latch and motioned for Tom to enter.

After the two of them entered she closed the door again behind her and watched Tom standing further on, looking around.

- Nice apartment...- he finally said.

- Thank you... - She leaned against the table at the entrance. She didn't know what to do next, maybe it had been a bad idea to bring him here. Why was she so impulsive that night? -Tom, I don't know why I invite you in, sorry...-she said a little nervous looking at her feet. He turned towards her, approaching and stopping in front of her.

- Are you sure you don't know? - He asked and she raised her head, seeing those brown eyes. She bit her bottom lip watching him closely. Damn he knew how to hypnotize her. He took another step and placed a hand on either side of her on the table, cornering her - Your body says otherwise, love... - he said softly feeling her breath hitch slowly and approaching his face to hers, alternating the look of your eyes to her lips. Y/n found another nickname that was perfect when he say.

He finally closed the distance by pressing his lips to hers. His lips were soft and warm, as if they were meant to be kissed. She returned the kiss willingly and when she laced her fingers in his neck, he licked her lower lip slowly asking for passage in which she opened them letting his tongue explore her mouth.

His hands gripped her waist and roamed her body greedily. As he kissed her, he caught her from behind her legs and sat her down on the entrance table, biting her bottom lip shortly after, provoking a low moan from her. He smiled against her lips and trailed kisses to her neck, attacking her skin with desire, making her throw her head back a little.

She grabbed his hair and pulled him back so she could kiss him. Which he gladly reciprocate. His kiss was urgent, but without being rude, he tasted like mint, making her want him even more.

His fingers found the button of her pants and he undid them quickly pulling them out, tossing them aside. When he came back he took her calf and kissed her leg up to her thighs, making her sigh. He moved up the kisses until he caught the hem of her shirt and pulled it up a little, kissing her stomach as well. Y/n didn't know what to do but feel goose bumps with every touch he gave. He then hiked up her shirt and she lifted her arms where he pulled her off, tossing along with her pants that were also on the floor.

She was just wearing her underwear in front of him, it made her a little excited and embarrassed at the same time, but the way he looked at her made her feel confident. He went back to kissing her body, this time kissing each covered breast in turn and reaching for the back of her bra and opening it. She helped him out tosiing to the side and he stood between her legs just watching her for a second, making her feel her cheeks heat up.

- Perfect... - he said with a low voice, as it was for himself and bent down to her breasts kissing each one of her nipples and then sucking them deliciously. Y/n moaned and bit her lip to keep her moans from getting louder, tangling her fingers in his hair again. He looked into her eyes for a few seconds and smiled slightly lowering his kisses to where she wanted him most.

He reached the hem of her panties and pulled them out slowly, kneeling between her legs and she looked at him with expectation. He returned the look and gave that smirk again.

- Look at you darling.... - That damn nickname. - Extremely wet and I haven't even touched you yet... - he said approaching and devouring her right away making her throw her head back with pleasure, biting her lips again to not sound so pathetic with her moans that insisted in wanting get out. - Oh, please don't drown out those wonderful sounds you make, I want to hear how good I'm making you feel. - He said in a husky tone, returning to his task after and she parted her lips letting her moans spread through the apartment.

****************************************************************************************

Y/n woke up the other day in her bed. She didn't even know how she got there, she just had flashes of the night before and how good she felt in each moment. She stretched and looked to the side seeing she was alone. She got up and put on a robe who was on the side of the bed.

After going to the bathroom and doing her morning hygiene routine she walked around the apartment looking around to see if Tom was somewhere else in the house, but found nothing. Which was understandable, it wasn't like she expected him to stay there and have breakfast with her and all.

She arrived in the kitchen and made black coffee and lean against the countertop. What that simple waiter had done to her was ridiculous, in a good sense, she felt great and kept remembering that accent that was stuck in her mind. He had consumed her in a way she had never imagined it she could be.

Taking a deep breath she set down turning her notebook on. Then opened her book and started writing.

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #bartender!tom #waiter!tom #tom holland x famous!reader #bartender!tom x writer!reader #tom holland series

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kim-ruzek · 3 years

Text

family we chose

Summary: spec fic for season nine bc that photo of paddy with painted nails Sent me. (Ft. Dad!am and cuteness)

Warnings: Cute adorableness and the possiblity you may die from how fluffy it is.

Word Count: 3.6k (lol can you believe I thought this would be 1-2k?)

Read on AO3

Notes: Paddy + painted nails + Theories = me going fucking crazy with feels.

“Adam, are you done yet?” Makayla calls to him, her voice a whine. Six year olds are not known for their patience, and Makayla is no different.

“Almost,” Adam replies as he finishes up putting away the freshly washed plates from their dinner. Makayla is old enough that she can play, happily and contently, by herself without his participation but during dinner she had asked him if they can play princesses and who was he to say no?

Especially when it helps distract her from the awkward questions she’s asking about Kim, and the clear anxiety and worry which is clearly plaguing the girl, the missing presence of her adoptive mother hanging over them both like a dark cloud.

It’s day two of Kim being in the hospital—day three, if he was to count the night Kevin and Jay found her. She had been in surgery for hours, and it had killed Adam to have to stay away, to not he at the hospital, but Kevin stayed on the phone with him and he was grateful for that.

And it was easier knowing that he was doing what Kim would want, that he was looking after her little girl, helping to preserve some normality in Makayla’s life.

When he had looked after her that night, he had just told her that Kim was busy at work, and he could see that Makayla had sensed that wasn’t just it, but for the most part she believed him. The next day was more difficult, however.

They knew that Kim is going to be okay. She has quite the recovery ahead of her, and she’s nowhere near ready to leave the hospital—she hasn’t even stayed awake for more than five minutes, and even that might be too generous. And so Adam had the task of telling Makayla this.

In his years as a cop, he’s had to do a lot of notifications and telling people that their loved ones are in the hospital but it never gets easier, and none of it could prepare him for having to tell Kim’s six year old.

It had gone better than Adam had thought, with him discovering that he’s a little better at this whole thing than he assumed he’d be. But Makayla’s worries and fears was clear; Adam having to reassure her that Kim will be coming home, and that in a few days, she’ll be able to see her.

“And,” Adam had told her with a smile, hoping to distract her. “Until then, we can have lots and lots of fun together.”

His goofy smile and his light hearted voice seemed to reassure her, as she had smiled at him them, an adorable toothy grin that somehow—even though it makes no sense to as why—reminded him of Kim.

Makayla had asked him if they could make Kim a card, to which he obviously said yes, and they had a fun evening with card, paint and glitter and Adam thought that maybe he’ll actually be able to do this. She did, however, when night came ask if she could sleep in his—Kim’s—bed and, although it sent him briefly into a panic, he immediately said yes, wanting to be able to report to Kim that he did everything right.

“Adam!” Makayla calls impatiently again and Adam laughs, shaking his head slightly.

“I’m coming,” he says, walking to her and taking a seat beside her. His bones complains about how low to the ground he has to be, but Makayla’s bright smile makes it worth it.

“Okay then, lil darlin’, how do we play princesses?” He asks her and her smile widens at her new moniker he’s given her. He called it her yesterday, right after yet another thought that Kim and her may not be blood related, or even known each other for long, but there’s already so many similarities between the two came to him.

“I’m not that small, Adam! I’m third tallest in my class!” Makayla had initially protested to the lil part of name.

“I know you’re not that small,” He had agreed, even though to him, she is, obviously. “But you’re lil darlin’ because you’re Kim’s daughter and Kim is darlin’.”

He had then momentarily freaked out, because he’s not sure how she feels about being called Kim’s daughter, and because he was scared that she’d think he was forgetting all about her mother, the one who raised her for six years.

But Makayla didn’t seem to mind, in fact, she seemed to beam wider at it. She made it clear that she liked Kim and her having matching monikers, and that she’s Kim’s junior—and thankfully, she didn’t ask why Kim is darlin’, as Adam had no idea how to answer that.

Makayla, now, in response to his question, jumps up and runs to her bedroom. She’s back shortly after, with a box filled with princess outfits, and bright materials, like a fluffy neon boa scarf.

“Here!” she places the box down, smiling proudly. Adam eagerly returns the smile, before fishing out a tutu out of it. He holds it up, grinning goofily at her.

“Somehow I think this won’t fit me.” He jokes and Makayla giggles.

“Of course it won’t, silly. You can use some of Kim’s clothes!” Makayla tells him.

Makayla quickly chooses what clothes she—and he—is going to wear, wrapping the neon boa scarf around his neck proudly. And then she’s going back to her bedroom, coming out with a smaller, more delicate box.

“First, we need to put on this!” She exclaims, opening the box to reveal kid makeup, nail polish and some stickers. Adam raises his eyebrow.

“Kim says we have to put it on before the clothes, so we don’t get the nail vanish on it.” Adam thinks she means varnish, her mistake making his heart constrict at the adorableness. Makayla then grabs this sheet, putting it over the rug.

“And we need to make sure we don’t mess the carpet,”

With that done, Adam peers into the box. “Okay, what colour do you want to paint my nails?”

It’s not a sentence Adam ever thought he’d say, not at this time anyway, but he doesn’t mind. Not even when Makayla’s eyes fill up with glee and mischief as she happily exclaims;

“All of them!”

Adam isn’t one who takes much photos, especially as he got older and more serious, and had less things in his life he wanted to document. But he takes lots after him and Makayla dress up, wanting to have a record of this for when Kim is properly awake.

And, if he’s honest, for himself, as—despite the love of his life being in hospital in the ICU—this is the happiest he’s been in a while. He snaps photos of not only Makayla, but himself, capturing his made up face, the tiara on his head and his multi-coloured nails.

Makayla is at school the next day, and Adam is in Kim’s hospital room. He’s showered and washed off his face, and in his clothes, obviously, but his nails are still painted. Makayla seemed to be really happy at him letting her paint his nails—saying offhandedly that her uncle never used to let her paint his nails—so he kept them. That, and because he couldn’t find the remover for it, of course.

“Hey, Kim.” Adam says softly. Kim’s not awake, still sleeping and if it wasn’t for the bruise on her face, the hospital gown, and all the wires surrounding her, Adam would think she looks so peaceful, like she’s just slumbering in her bed at home.

She’s off the ventilator, now, and Adam thinks that he’ll be able to take Makayla in to see her tomorrow, even if she’s not awake when he does, because she doesn’t seem as scary, as hit and miss and near death.

He’ll never be able to get the image of her lying attached to the ventilator, the day after they found her. Adam had dropped Makayla off at school and headed straight to the hospital. Kevin had met him outside, and warned him it wasn’t pretty, and he thought he was prepared—but nothing could ever prepare him for that.

Adam sits down next to her bed, now, lightly holding her hand in his. He’s immediately brought back to all those years ago, to when she was shot the first time, and she was in the hospital. He feels just as sick as he did then, feeling as if half of his heart is gone.

He can’t help thinking how this is the reverse of then, too. Back then, he had to hide how he felt from everyone, the only one who knew was Kim. And now, now he doesn’t have to hide it, everyone in his unit knows just how much he loves her, but Kim doesn’t—or rather, perhaps, can’t see it, for whatever reason.

He’s caught up in this thought that he doesn’t notice her stirring, her eyes opening. He only realises she’s awake when she squeezes his hand—weakly, still not strong—and his eyes look up from the spot they’ve been staring at and to her face.

Kim’s eyes are only half open, heavy lidded, but she’s awake and she’s looking at him. Currently, the only people who has gotten to see Kim, awake, is the doctor, the nurse and Kevin and Trudy. Adam knows he’s needed by Makayla, but he can’t help but feel envy, jealousy, that others got to have her see them and he hasn’t.

But now she’s awake, and she’s looking at him. There’s a smile dancing on her lips, soft and gentle but so, so Kim. His mind can’t help but go back to that first time she was shot again, and about the smile she gave him then, when she realised he was there, with her.

“Adam,” Her voice is barely there, dry and hoarse, coming out a little more than a whisper. But his heart skips a beat at hearing her say his name, and he knows he should calm himself, because Kim has made it clear that dating isn’t on the table—even if he thinks her reasons are nonsense—but he can’t because he loves her, because he nearly lost her, because he’s spent the last few days looking after her daughter and wishing she was his as well, because she’s awake and she’s looking at him and she’s saying his name.

“Hey, Kim.” He says again, managing to catch himself just in time before he accidentally slipped out a darlin’ instead. Her eyes glance down before glancing back up, her smile widening.

“I like the nails.” Her smile is playful, teasing and even though her voice is still dry, he can hear the amusement in it. Adam looks down at his hands, still around hers, and he feels oddly exposed, that it’s apparent just how desperate he is for them to be a family.

“Makayla and I played princesses.” He tells her, proudly, shrugging off any feelings of desperation and insecurity. He then pulls back from her hands, reaching into his pocket for his phone.

“I took photos—if you want to see?” He offers, watching as Kim’s eyes light up. She instantly tries to move, to adjust herself so she’s sitting up more and he immediately stops her, jumping to help her instead.

Kim shifts over, encouraging him to sit down on the bed so that she can see the photos with ease. She’s been in the hospital for days, and the sterile smell clings to her, but he can still smell her, the essence that’s just Kim as she rests against him. He tries to calm his beating heart, but that’s impossible whenever Kim is around him, whenever she is on him.

Especially right now. When all he can think about is how much he loves her, and how domestic this all feels, showing her photos of her daughter, the daughter Adam’s been looking after.

Adam is showing her the photos, getting near the end of the mass he took, when he realises she’s stopped cooing. He thinks she must’ve fallen back asleep—understandable, depending everything her body has been through—but when he looks down at her, she’s still awake.

She’s not looking at the photos, but at him. There’s a softness, affection, in her expression and Adam doesn’t quite know how to read it.

“I love you.” She says then, her voice the clearest it’s been. He blinks, stunned, not expecting that to come out of her mouth.

“Kim—” He goes to say that they don’t need to talk right now, that he doesn’t need to hear this, but she continues, fixing him a look—a look that reminds him a fair bit of Trudy—telling him to be quiet.

“When I was in that warehouse, dying, all I could think about—other than Makayla—was you. I even called out to you; all I wanted was you, to have you save me. I thought I was going to die and all I could think about was how we’ve left things, how I’ve pushed you away. You’re my person, Adam. I know, now, I’m never going to want anyone else and all what I’ve been trying to convince myself about you, about us, it’s bull. I love you, and I never want to be scared that I’ll die without you knowing that ever again.”

This is everything Adam has wanted to hear for years, and exactly what he’s been desperate for ever since, right before Kim fostered Makayla, they slept together again. It’s embarrassing how many nights he’s spent lying awake, staring at his ceiling, wishing for her to say this to him but now, when it’s actually happening it, all he can do is stare, stunned, at her.

“Kim,” He says again, her name leaving his lip sounding quite like a plea. Hearing her say this, hearing her tell him this, it means more to him than he could ever describe and he doesn’t know exactly how to express that, how to express the thoughts and feelings in his mind, in his heart.

“Look, we don’t need to like. I don’t expect anything from you. I know we have stuff we need to talk about, I can’t click my fingers and make everything that’s happened between us okay. But I needed you to know this—I thought I could wait, until I’m better. But you—you let Makayla paint your nails,” It’s so much more than that one gesture, Adam can tell. He can tell from how she says the words, the way seeing his nails painted means so much to her, that it signifies something so much more important than just him having fun with her daughter. And he can tell because he knows her, knows Kim better than he even knows himself.

And he understands exactly what she means, excited what she’s feeling. When he let Makayla paint his nails, he did hope that it would show Kim that he’s taking his role seriously, taking the fact that he’s their family seriously, but that wasn’t why he let her. Adam let her because she’s an adorable child, because she’s Kim’s daughter, because she deserves to be happy. He wasn’t thinking about what he could personally gain from it, it was just something he did without much thought, something that just made sense to agree too—just because Makayla asked.

Adam can see that Kim understands that, and that’s what’s resonated with her, that’s what’s making her look at him like that, with love and adoration and utter affection, a look he hasn’t quite seen in her eyes since the day he proposed to her.

It’s the first time since Kim was pregnant and let him in that hope blooms in him; that Adam has hope that finally, finally, he’ll get his girl again.

He softly strokes his thumb against her hand, before lifting it up and giving it a gentle kiss. “I know, darlin’.” He doesn’t hesitate or hold back now, knowing that it will be received well, and Kim smiles at it.

Adam notices then that she’s looking tired, and realises that her body needs more rest. He gently puts down her hand. “Rest, now. We can talk more about this—us—when you’re better. You need to rest and recover, because I know there’s an adorable six year old who misses you very much.”

Kim smiles again and Adam’s heart warms at the sight of it. “And darlin’? I love you, too.”

She falls asleep shortly after that. Adam doesn’t particularly want her too, not ready to stop seeing her awake, to talk to her, to see her smile and hear her voice. But he’s okay with it, because she wants him and she might be asleep now, but they have all the time in the world, the rest of their lives, to be together.

A couple days later, Kim has gotten stronger and needs less wires, the bruise on her face going down and colour returning to her face. She’s still got such a long recovery ahead of her, and she still needs to be in the hospital for a few more weeks, but Adam can finally bring Makayla with him.

The six year old is very excited, waking Adam up at an unholy time in the morning, practically jumping around the place. She’s made Kim another card and several pictures—some of which includes Adam in them, which warmed his heart—and while she understands Kim can’t come home just yet, she’s still very happy she can see her.

Adam walks through the hospital to Kim’s room, Makayla on his hip—although the way she’s bouncing, squirming with barely contained excitement, it’s a miracle Adam is able to keep hold of her.

He’d have let her bound ahead, walking by herself, if it wasn’t for it being a hospital, Adam wanting to make sure she’s contained and doesn’t cause any destruction.

There are many perks to being a cop, and being able to weave through the hospital with ease just with the wave of your badge is one of them. Although, Adam’s badge isn’t around his neck, Makayla having claimed it for herself.

“Can I wear it?” She asked him that morning, when he explained to her why he was wearing it around his neck, on display. He had agreed, not only because she’s too cute to say no to, but because she’d be carried by him, which would clearly show the other adults around that he was a cop, even if she was wearing it.

“Uncle Kev!” Makayla greets Kevin enthusiastically as they approach Kim’s hospital room. Kevin’s been sitting with Kim until they arrive, and at Adam’s text that they had, he had clearly headed out, ready to greet them.

“Hey, M.” Kevin ruffles Makayla’s curls, the girl grinning as he does so. He then nods in greeting to Adam; the two men still need to have a long conversation—in which Adam knows his role will be too listen, the only words being an apology—and they won’t be totally fine until they do, but there’s an understanding between them.

“How is she?” Adam asks Kevin, discreetly asking if Kim is tired, so he can prepare Makayla for that.

“Good, getting better and better. She’s been napping all morning, so she’s ready for this little one,” Kevin ruffles Makayla’s hair again. “Now, M, Adam’s explained that Kim’s gonna need to take it slow? That it might be scary—but she’s okay, she’ll be home before you know it?”

Kevin’s years of raising his siblings is displayed in how he talks to Makayla, using a soft, but adult tone?

After Makayla nods in answer to Kevin, Adam’s walking into Kim’s hospital room, the six year old on his hip. Kim’s sitting up in her bed, ready and eager to see Makayla. A wide, happy grin overtakes her face as soon as they enter and Kim sees Makayla.

Adam puts Makayla down as soon as they cross the threshold and she wastes no time running up to Kim’s bed. She does hesitate before jumping onto the bed, taking a step back and cautiously climbing up at the end, not wanting to accidentally sit on Kim.

Adam watches this, and watched how then Kim guides Makayla into her arms, her daughter immediately snuggling into them, looking happier than she’s looked in days. The scene tugs at Adam’s heart; they really do belong together, that is clear, their bond strong and true.

“Come cuddle, Adam!” Makayla then looks back at him, smiling that grin of hers, beckoning him over enthusiastically. He hesitates, not wanting to intrude on the moment, on Kim’s reunion with her daughter, but then Kim smiles at him; a big, loving smile which invites him over.

“Kim, guess what?” Makayla turns back to Kim as he heads over. “I’m lil darlin’! And it’s not ‘cos I’m short, but 'cos I’m your daughter!”

The way this makes Kim feel is clear to Adam, her expression open. She responds to Makayla, but she catches his eye, and Adam knows exactly what she’s trying to express to him.

When he reaches her bed, Kim pats her other side, encouraging him to sit down with them. It’s a tight fit, Adam barely on the bed, but it’s nice. He lifts up his arm, wrapping it around Kim, and she leans into him, Makayla snuggling against her still.

Makayla quickly urges Adam to pass her bag to her, so that she can show Kim all the stuff she made for her. Kim’s face lights up at them, looking with awe and wonder and love but all Adam can think about is how well the three of them fit together, that they’re already like a family.

There’s so much to discuss and work out, but Adam is looking forward to what the future holds if this is even a small glimpse into what it’ll be like.

#burzek #chicago pd #cpd spoilers #<- bc it refers to a bts pic #kim burgess x adam ruzek #chicago pd fanfiction #ree writes #ree's.writing #adam ruzek #kim burgess #Makayla Burgess

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matbarzyy · 4 years

Text

4 times you made Mat’s apartment feel like home and 1 time you didn’t

A/N: This is my first ever attempt at a 4+1, I figured it’d be fun to try. This is angst so that I don’t always post fluff/smut, I like to mix it up lol. It was supposed to be a relatively short one and I somehow ended up at 5k so enjoy I guess.

Word count: 5210

Warnings: Heartbreak I guess

One month.

It was the longest you had gone without seeing Mat since you had moved in together. You were both buzzing for him to come back so you could be sharing the same space again, you could never get enough of each other.

“Hello beautiful,” Mat’s grin was the biggest you had ever seen on his face, it was the kind of smile he could never fight off even if he wanted to.

“Hi handsome,” You returned the greeting with the words you used every time he called you. It started off as a joke but quickly became a habit that made both of your hearts flutter.

Mat didn’t hesitate to step forward and engulf you in a tight hug, his bags forgotten by the door.

“I missed you,” He breathed out, squeezing you against him and bathing in the feeling of holding you again. You smelled like home. It was everything he had been dreaming of alone in his bed, your warmth, the way you fit perfectly against his body.

“You’re never going anywhere without me again,” You mumbled against his chest, knowing you wouldn’t be pulling away for another minute or two at least.

You said it every time, you hated being away from him, but after you settled down together for a few days you went back to your usual mood. Mat needed to move, he loved hockey and visiting his family or travelling for games. You loved coming with him for those things, but sometimes he had to go alone and you were both okay with it.

Things never changed. You loved each other more than words could describe, some time apart would never break that. Every time Mat came home he still felt the exact same way about you, and you felt the exact same way about him. It was comfortable and safe to be together, you made each other happy.

“Do you mind if I go shower quickly? And then we can get cuddled up in bed?” Mat kissed the top of your head, rubbing your back gently as he pulled back to look at you.

“Can I come in the shower with you?” Your arms remained around his torso, refusing to let him go, and a soft smile grew on his face.

“Of course baby,”

There was nothing sexual about it, although you could never lie about what seeing Mat naked did to you. It was intimate and comforting, something you desperately needed after missing out on hugs and kisses for so long.

“You have no ideas how many times I dreamed of this with you,” Mat guided you under the stream of water so that you could rinse off the soap he had been rubbing over your body.

Steam was building up in the room, making the mirror foggy and warming up the air. You liked it that way, it meant less fighting between you and Mat to be under the hot water.

“It’s been the same here for me,” You kissed his jaw and guided him to turn around so that you could rub his back. “I think about you constantly,”

“You wanna go on a date tomorrow night?” He spoke softly as the tension fell from his muscles. You were magic.

“Of course,” You kissed his shoulder blade. “We always go on a date the day after you get back,”

“I know,” He hummed, turning back to face you. “I always look forward to it, it makes things feel normal again,”

“Mat?” You whispered because of how close he suddenly was, his hands at your waist and his forehead resting against yours.

“Mmh?”

“I love you so much it still overwhelms me every time I see you.” You told him without shying away. Mat was your safety, the person you confided everything in, and you opened your heart to him without hesitation.

His lips found yours without a reply, but the way he kissed you told you enough. You wrapped your arms around his neck to get closer and felt his own tighten around your body, pulling you in until the rest of the world disappeared. Mat murmured something against your lips when he gently pushed your back against the wall, but his lips were still so close to yours that you couldn’t decipher the words.

What he said didn’t really matter, Mat was home.

“It’d be cute if we had a puppy,” Mat finished folding your favorite blanket on the couch to tidy the living room. It was all he had found to keep himself busy, but since the place was already clean there wasn’t much for him to do.

“Mmh, yeah, maybe,” You smiled at him as you looked up from your laptop, barely hearing his words but replying anyway because you didn’t want to ignore him.

You still had a lot of work to do but Mat was being the most distracting person ever. He thought it was fair, it was his first weekend home in a long time and he hadn’t spent time with you apart from sleeping in at least three weeks, if not a month. He had then spent two days away and just got back. He knew it wasn’t like he left for a roadie or some other long trip, but he had still expected you’d catch up on quality time together.

“What kind of dog would you want?” He interrupted your focus once more, hoping it would start an actual conversation that would stop him from being so bored. He knew there were other things for him to do, but nothing he wanted to do without you.

“I don’t know Mat,” You half sighed, frowning as you struggled to put the end of your sentence together.

“I think a golden retriever would be cute,”

“I’m still working, you mind giving me just another hour of quiet?” You eventually tore your eyes from the screen to give him your full attention. It was what he wanted, but not exactly like this.

“Yeah sure,” Mat tried not to take it to heart, you didn’t sound snappy, but he still felt like you didn’t want him around.

He missed you and everything you used to do together, he couldn’t help being needy, and your rejection, although justified, hurt him.

You bit your lip as you got through the last of your emails, doing everything you had to get done by the end of the night while Mat stayed in your shared bedroom on his own. You almost called him over to tell him he could watch something with you while you worked, but it would be too distracting for you and you didn’t know if he was mad at you.

“Hey champ,” You quietly opened the door to the bedroom, tiptoeing to your side of the bed because it was the closest. “Can I join?” You knew he’d be watching hockey for a while still, and while you weren’t particularly in the mood to focus on a game you just wanted to be with him.

“Course,” He glanced at you but focused back on the screen quickly. He was clearly in work mode too, watching players carefully to see what he could pick up from them to up his game.

You hesitated for a second, wondering if you were bothering him, but you climbed into the bed anyway. Mat opened an arm wordlessly, inviting you to cuddle, and you didn’t need more to come rest against his side. Your eyes fell shut faster than you thought they would, you were too tired to focus on the game and the warmth of Mat’s body was all you needed to start feeling sleepy.

His body slid down with yours, putting you both under the covers while you blinked your eyes open. You didn’t realise it had been that long, and you stirred a little as you tried to look at him.

“What…”

“Shh,” He kissed your forehead, pulling away to grab the remote and turn the TV off. “Go to sleep,” He didn’t let you move much, wanting to keep you in the position you were about to fall asleep into.

“You were watching the game,” You mumbled, not complaining that you had to keep your head on his chest. It was warm and comfortable, you liked feeling his heartbeat under your palm where you rested your head.

“I don’t care about the game, just wanna cuddle you,” He usually watched players carefully, but he had only put this one on to wait for you. There was nothing he wanted more than to be in bed with you, every problem of the day long forgotten as you held onto each other.

Right there, watching you fall asleep on his chest, Mat felt at home.

“What are you all dressed up for?” You looked up from your work to see Mat just finishing to button his shirt.

“I just got back, it’s date night,” His heart deflated when he realised you had forgotten, but he felt a little bit better when you closed your laptop without hesitation.

“Shit, I’m sorry. What time do we need to be there?” You glanced at your watch and bit your lip nervously.

“In half an hour, it’s fifteen minutes away,” He had picked a restaurant you mentioned wanting to try, but now that he thought about it he figured he should have made reservations somewhere he was curious about.

“I’ll hurry, we might be five minutes late?” You hoped he wouldn’t be too mad at you.

Somehow, you would have preferred a little bit of anger you could talk out than the disinterested shrug he gave you as he replied.

“Sure, it’s whatever,”

You were still thankful he never, ever raised his voice. You couldn’t take that, he had known from the start that it would only make things worse. You had enough bad experiences with men yelling in your life and you didn’t want to have to deal with more, so he had promised to always talk things out with you. He promised that no matter the temper he sometimes had on the ice, that would never be him off it.

It was part of the reason you trusted him so much. He was a wall of muscles compared to you, but you were never scared of him because he had always acted as soft as a golden retriever puppy around you.

Mat busied himself on his phone while you rushed to put on a nice blouse with trousers you recently bought. You tied the look with a pair of heels and put on a little bit of makeup before grabbing your purse and phone to meet him at the door.

“Okay I’m ready,” You followed him quickly, heading to his car while you ran your hand through your hair in hope of making it look alright.

“You’ve been working insane hours lately,”

“So have you,” You didn’t want to be mean, but Mat was always training. Working overtime wasn’t that common for you, once you were out of the office you were the most normal person, whereas Mat’s job followed him everywhere and was much harder to plan around.

“I guess yeah,” He nodded, eyes focused on the road.

Things were different lately. You were distant, barely doing anything with him, and he knew part of it was his fault too. It was one of those hard times when everything felt out of place, but they had never lasted so long in your relationship before.

“The position for general manager is open, I’m really hoping I have a shot at it,” You explained to hopefully settle the mood in the car. There was a reason you were pushing yourself until late at night, and Mat felt bad for reacting that way.

“Oh wow, shit that’s good,” He cleared his throat. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“You were busy,” You shrugged it off, trying not to make him feel like it was another dig at him.

“It doesn’t mean I don’t care,” His palm faced up when he rested his hand on his knee, hoping you’d take it.

“I know,” You placed your hand in his and squeezed reassuringly.

Dinner was still a little uncomfortable, but it wasn’t as bad as the moment you spent in the car.

It was hard to place why, but the conversation felt forced. You had never found it so hard to talk to Mathew before, things had always flowed between you, but for the past few months you had grown on your own sides without sharing as much as you used to. The hockey season was just starting and you were following it, but you didn’t know as much as you should about what was going on with the team.

Mat told you about the guys and you struggled to catch up, not knowing much of what had been going on with any of his friends lately. You used to be tight with his team, they were like family, but you couldn’t even remember the last time you had even seen Tito.

Things were different, somehow, you had drifted apart and you were both clinging to something that would bring you back together. The drive back from the restaurant was quiet, music from the radio filling the gap that neither of you could acknowledge out loud.

You didn’t know where you fit in the bed that night, holding your pillow rather than Mat because he was taking too long in the shower. He never did that before, on any other date night you would immediately go to bed together, cuddling or more. Mat rarely took more showers than he needed unless he had something heavy on his mind, and he certainly never took that long in them.

You were half asleep when Mat slid into the bed behind you, burning hot from the water as he wrapped himself around your body to spoon you. You naturally relaxed against him, the tension you didn’t realise you were holding in your shoulders disappearing when he left a kiss on the back of your head.

“You know I love you, yeah?” Mat snuggled closer and made sure you were both comfortable under the covers.

“I love you too, so much,” You grasped his hand in yours, bringing it up to your lips to kiss his knuckles.

As silence filled the room your hearts still beat together, soft thumps lulling you into a peaceful sleep. There were things to talk about, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed. Mat knew that no matter what, you’d forever be his home.

“It’s just a week,” Mat told you as he put his bags by the door, Tito was already on his way to pick him up, it was only a matter of minutes now.

“Yeah,” You tried to smile weakly, but he didn’t make the same effort.

“Can we talk about whatever the hell is going on with us?” He forced himself to bring it up now. He didn’t want to come back and pretend everything was fine when it wasn’t, some issues needed to be addressed before he left.

He knew that when he came back you’d both fall back into each other, blaming this week of distance for everything that was wrong, but there was more to it.

“I feel like we’re falling apart, Mat,” You voiced the fears that had been in your mind for weeks. “I just… I don’t know. I should be excited you’re going to play, or sad you won’t be home, but things have been so empty lately,”

“It feels like it won’t even change anything,” He nodded, glancing down at his feet. You were both weirdly calm about starting this conversation, days of apathy towards each other leading you to feeling numb.

“But that used to be a good thing, it didn’t matter that you were home or away, we were always fine when we talked,” You didn’t understand how or when things shifted. Mat had always been your safety, your person. You could talk easily and feel close no matter how much time you spent apart, so how was it that you were never close even when he was home lately?

“We don’t talk though,” He pointed out, making you frown although you knew what he meant.

“We do,”

“You know it’s not the same,” He shook his head a little, biting his lip to bite back tears as he thought of a way to tell you what he needed without hurting you.

He couldn’t find one.

“But-“ You didn’t want to acknowledge how wrong things were. It was still okay, there were no big fights, things could all be fixed.

“Please don’t,” His voice was soft, apologetic for the words that were about to come out. “This isn’t working the way it used to,”

“It still works, I love you,” You couldn’t look away from his eyes, and Mat tried his best not to stare at the floor or somewhere else in the room. He could see the pieces of your heart falling apart one by one, and it was all his fault.

“I love you too, that will never change but… we can’t keep on going on like this,”

“Maty please,” Your voice cracked and your heart rate picked up from the panic that took over your body. His words had never scared you more than they did right this second.

“I’m sorry, you know I don’t want this anymore than you do,” His chest tightened, it killed him to see you like this. There was nothing he wanted more than to hug you, but it wouldn’t fix anything.

“Then don’t do it,” You couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks, barely bothering to wipe them away.

“I’ll be gone for a week, and I think it might be good for us to get a break,” He tried to soften the blow as well as he could. “Maybe we can just think about this for a bit rather than try to talk or whatever, and we can… we can have a conversation when I get back,”

“So what? We’re just going to ignore each other for a week until you come home and tell me you want to break up with me?” You took a step back when he tried to reach for your hand. The look of hurt that finally became obvious on his face was nothing compared to how much of a mess you already were.

“I don’t want to break up with you,”

“It doesn’t sound like you’re very sure about that,” Your chest shook with a single sob, forcing you to bite down on the inside of your cheeks.

His silence told you everything you needed to know.

It was suffocating.

Your eyes searched his for a sign that he still wanted you, but they lacked the spark they used to have whenever he looked at you.

“I don’t want to fight with you,” He eventually spoke up, his voice soft, like he was afraid anything he said could break you.

“I don’t want that either,” You were too shocked to say anything, the weight of his silence still hanging in the air.

“So let’s talk when I get back, okay?” He concluded before you could process anything else, completely numb and frozen on the spot.

“Okay,” You vaguely felt his lips brush over your forehead, and a second later the front door was falling shut behind him.

Calling in sick to work was your only option.

You could barely drag yourself out of your bed, let alone take a shower, get dressed and head to the office.

You didn’t receive a single text from Mat, not even when his flight landed. He always told you he had arrived safely. Always. Checking your phone for what felt the millionth time since you woke up made you sigh. The screen was still blank apart from a couple of notifications from your friends trying to make sure you were okay.

You weren’t, but they knew that already. They’d understand if you took ages to reply, so you kept on ignoring them as you buried your face in Mat’s pillow and shed some more tears.

How could he do this? How could he leave for a whole week and never want to talk to you? You were struggling not to call him with every second that passed, it consumed every bit of energy in your body, so how was he having fun with his friends and playing games at his best while you couldn’t even bring yourself to eat?

The only answer that came to you was something you never thought you would ever consider.

Mat didn’t love you anymore.

He fidgeted with his phone on the way back from the airport, wondering if you remembered what time he was supposed to land. He hoped you did, because he still didn’t text you. He had gotten plenty of time to himself, too much of it even, and if it wasn’t for the team keeping him busy he would have never made it through so many days of not talking to you.

He had made up his mind. It was easy once he was out of the apartment, all he had to do was imagine himself coming home. The only thing he wanted when he pictured that was you, and it told him everything he needed to know. No matter what was wrong lately, there was a way to make it better. You were the love of his life and he’d never give up.

Now all he had to do was come back to you and fix it.

“I’m back,” He called out after closing the door behind himself, leaving his bags down and listening carefully to see if you were home. You were always there to greet him, surely you had to be there.

You came into view a second later, dressed in leggings and an old concert t-shirt that was so worn out the band logo on it was almost gone. Your hair was messily pulled back, but the thing that hurt Mat the most was the look on your face.

He had seen you in plenty of messy, lazy outfits, but you were still always smiling. This was different. The bags under your eyes told him you hadn’t been sleeping, and you were so pale he worried you’d pass out right there in front of him.

His heart almost stopped knowing he caused this. He was the reason for your pain, and he needed to fix it.

“Can I hug you?” Mat stepped forward hesitantly, but you moved back and shook your head, tears already brimming in your eyes.

“I love you so much Mathew,” You wrapped your arms around yourself, not knowing where to start but with the way you felt.

“Hey, don’t-” He felt himself crumble at your broken tone. How could he have done this to you? How could he have left you thinking he’d ever want to break up with you?

“No, stop,” You sniffled, trying your hardest not to break into sobs. You had prepared yourself to say this in your head, but you couldn’t realise how much harder it would be once you were facing him. “I just- I don’t get where you stopped loving me,”

“I didn’t,” He replied instantly, his eyes widening and his heart sinking in his chest.

“That’s not true,”

“Why are you saying that?”

“Because this week has been the worst week of my life,” You clenched your fist so tightly your nails dug into your palm. The pain was grounding, it was always better than acknowledging the ache in your chest. “And you just went about it like it was fine,”

“I just needed some time to think,” The guilt was so overwhelming he felt sick in his stomach. You had never doubted his feelings for you before, he was always good at reassuring you, but he had ruined years of trust before leaving.

“I don’t need time to know how much I love you,”

“Love isn’t all you need to keep a relationship going,”

“Well, it sure as hell can’t keep going when you don’t have at least that,” You bit your tongue as you hinted to where this conversation was going.

It was the only way to make it right. If Mathew didn’t love you anymore you had to let him go.

“You don’t want this anymore,” His shoulders dropped and he had to catch himself against the door, ready to collapse. Tears filled his eyes, blurring his vision.

“This is all I want. You’re all I want, but I can’t have that if you don’t want it as much as I do,”

“I don’t want to be without you,” He wiped his cheeks repeatedly, annoyed at the flood but unable to stop it. His voice trembled as he continued, short quick breaths making his chest shake. “I’m sorry I left like this, but we can work on this- I- I just got home… Just let me make this right,” He couldn’t bear the thought of being alone here, without you. You gave the place life, you gave him life. He had no home if he wasn’t with you, he couldn’t let you go like this.

“Mat… I’d go to the end of the world for you, I don’t even think you realise… I- it’s been so hard for me, I’ve had to keep up and deal with so much,” You couldn’t even begin to count the reasons you shouldn’t have gotten together in the first place, and Mat knew it too. There was a lot to sort out on both sides, but you had decided to ignore it all together to make it work no matter what. “It was all worth it to be with you, and I’d do it a million times again, but I’m not strong enough to do this if you can’t love me the way I love you,”

“I do love you,” He needed to repeat it a million times again, but you wouldn’t listen. Mat lip trembled as he thought he couldn’t even hold you to make it better.

“Not in the same way,”

“Don’t do this please,” He begged, knowing where he messed up but refusing to let it happen so easily. “How- how can you think I don’t love you?” He choked on his words. “After everything, I- I just-”

“You said it yourself, this isn’t working the way it used to,” The way you reused his words made him feel like you were stabbing him straight in the heart. This was all his fault, so why was there nothing he could say to make you believe he loved you?

“So we’re not even to try and talk about how we can fix it? I didn’t need to think about my feelings for you when I was away, I’ve always loved you, I love you, I-”

“There’s no way to fix this, look at us!” You interrupted and motioned between the two of you, the space that was there was unnatural. It was the first time he made it through the door and didn’t immediately cross the distance to hug you.

“I can’t lose you,”

“I’m sorry Mathew, I’ll… I’ll come get my stuff over the weekend,” You had already made plans to sleep somewhere else, but you didn’t have the heart to pack before he made it home.

“No,” He stayed in front of the door, shaking his head vehemently and clenching his jaw while you took a step closer to the exit. “You can’t do that!” His voice boomed through the apartment. You shrunk on yourself before he even realised what he had done. “Baby no,” His eyes widened in panic. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice, I’m sorry,” He repeated, watching the tears flood your cheeks.

He left without reassuring you he still loved you, he let you think he wanted to break up with you, and just as he tried to fix it, he managed to break the most important promise he ever made to you.

“Let me go,” You sniffled, waiting for him to move.

Mat could do nothing but step aside.

+1.

Empty.

It was a fitting word for both the apartment and Mat.

He should have been happy to be home, but this place wasn’t it. He thought it would be for some time, but nowhere would ever feel like home unless you were there.

Dealing with you leaving had turned him into a wreck, so for some time Tito told him he should come live with him. It helped a little, he wasn’t as lonely and it stopped him from getting in his head.

He knew he’d have to come back eventually, Tito had his own life and Mat couldn’t constantly be in the middle of it.

Everything he was normally happy to find was missing. The plant on his coffee table was dead from the lack of water, and he thought it was a pretty good representation of how things were going for him lately.

He didn’t get to come home to you, he didn’t get a hug, he didn’t feel his heart flutter at the softness of your voice when you said you missed him, he didn’t feel your warmth or take in the sweet scent of your perfume.

Dropping his bags in the bedroom was torture.

The closet was open, showing off the empty half he couldn’t bring himself to start using. He remembered how he used to joke about being annoyed his shirts always ended up in your pile because you wore them so much.

The apartment was dead silent, it left plenty of room for Mat’s thoughts to take over his mind.

He missed you like hell. Every time he thought he was over it he turned around and got reminded of you by the smallest thing. Finding a hair tie under his bed felt like a slap in the face, a painful reminder of what used to be. Mat knew it probably ended up there after he took it out of your hair one night because he liked running his fingers through it as you both fell asleep, and his thoughts then moved on to the bed itself.

He could barely look at it, let alone sleep in it. The bedsheets no longer smelled like you although he still used the fabric softener you liked, your pillow remained untouched now that he was done crying into it, and Mat had to clench his jaw to keep tears at bay as he moved to the living room.

The soft red blanket you had bought to bring colour to the place was still on the couch. He slept with it when you left, and his pillow was still resting against the armrest. He almost considered moving for a moment, there were plenty of places to live in New York, he didn’t need to keep this apartment if he couldn’t even deal with standing in the bedroom anymore.

He knew it might help, but it wouldn’t fix anything. He’d have less reminders but just as many thoughts.

He’d never find a home without you.

I’m not 100% happy with how this one turned out but I don’t have a lot more energy to give it so I’m posting it anyway. Hope it was still okay to read for you guys, comments and feedback are always much appreciated.

Please reblog!

#mat barzal #writing #fluff #angst #mathew barzal fic #mathew barzal imagine #mathew barzal fluff #mathew barzal angst #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal angst #nhl imagine #nhl fic #isles13 #islanders

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drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

We’re Gonna See It Through

Bishop Losa x Reader

Based on the Title Prompt ask that @dorkofclanlavellan sent me a little while back. I typed the summary that I would do and then I couldn’t stop thinking about it so...here it is lmao

Warnings: Language, angst, Bishop getting in his feelings

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: I’m sorry to hurt our mans like this but sometimes that’s just how it is.

Bish Taglist: @masterlistforimagines @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @multiyfandomgirl40 @sillygoose6969 (I know I have my taglists separated by character so if you’re on one and not another or if you just want me to put you on all of them let me know! Sorry if I’ve made it more confusing than necessary lol)

You were fast asleep by the time Bishop came home. You had given up on trying to stay up to wait for him. He was coming home later and later, and with everything falling apart at work, you were having to leave earlier than usual. It felt like for the past three weeks or so the two of you had hardly even seen or spoken to each other. Truthfully, you could use each other more than ever now but the two of you just couldn’t seem to time it right.

He walked into the house, quietly shutting the door behind him. He spotted a note on the counter, managing a small, exhausted smile as he read it, “Saved you some dinner in the fridge. Pop it in the microwave for 2 minutes. And, if your day was really bad, skip dinner and go right to dessert. Picked up a pint of your favorite Ben & Jerry’s and put it in the freezer. I love you. xo”

Despite all the shit that was going on with both of you, you were still trying to make things work as best you could. Bishop knew that, and he wished that he knew how to let you know that he could see that you were putting in effort and that he appreciated it. But he was in the same boat as you and felt like he hardly ever got to spend any time with you lately. Things had been crumbling with Galindo and the club and it was taking up more of his time than he would like. You had always been understanding of his commitment to the club, but even he knew that everyone’s understanding had its limitations.

He ate dinner, being mindful to stop the microwave before it beeped so that the noise wouldn’t wake you up. He also took a few spoonfuls of ice cream before going to shower off the shitshow that had been his day. When the two of you had first moved in, you had been bummed out that the bedroom didn’t have a bathroom attached. And, while Bishop knew that it would have been convenient, on nights like this he was glad that the bathroom was down the hall so he had less of a chance of disturbing you. He knew that you needed all the rest that you could get.

He quietly crept into the room after his shower, hanging up his towel and pulling on a clean t-shirt and pair of boxers before slowly crawling into bed beside you. He gently wrapped his arms around you and you subconsciously scooted back so that you were pressed against him, still fast asleep. He took a deep breath, soaking in your scent and the warmth emanating from your body that had been trapped under the blankets all night. Almost instantly his eyes drifted shut and he fell asleep.

You woke up early in the morning, your alarm not even beginning to awaken Bishop. You took a deep breath as you shut it off, enjoying the feeling of his arms around you for a moment before carefully removing yourself from them so that you could get ready for work.

You lingered in your bedroom doorway for a moment, watching Bishop sleep peacefully in the middle of the huge bed that the two of you shared. Your heart ached, wishing for everything to go back to normal. You rested your head against the doorframe, taking a deep breath to fight back the tears you could feel stinging at your eyes before finally making yourself leave for work.

Most of the morning had flown right by, but you were currently an hour deep into a conference call that was making you want to gnaw your own arm off. Your phone buzzed lightly on the surface of your desk and you checked to see who was texting you, happy to have a distraction for a minute. You opened it to see a text from Bishop.

“Sorry I missed you this morning, sweetheart. I love you”

You smiled despite the knot in your chest, “I love you too. Will I see you tonight?”

It seemed like the three bubbles were on the screen for an eternity before you finally got a response, “I hope so. I’ll let you know if I’m going to be late again”

You pressed your lips together, making the choice to not respond. There was nothing really for you to say at that point. You knew that you should bring your attention back to the call that you were on, but your head was completely clocked out of the office by this point. You found yourself scrolling back through your most recent texts with Bishop. About ninety percent of them were one of you apologizing to the other for running late, or missing plans, or not being able to wait up for the other because you were too tired. It felt like your throat was closing up as you bit back a sob. If this was going to be your future you weren’t sure that you wanted it. You loved Bishop but you couldn’t handle a lifetime of feeling alone.

You knew that you weren’t going to be able to handle staying in the office. You unmuted yourself on the call, “Hey guys, sorry to cut out so suddenly. Some family stuff just came up and I have to go. I should be back tomorrow. Just shoot me an email with whatever I miss,” you didn’t wait for a response before hanging up and grabbing your purse. You all but ran out of the office building to your car.

Once you were sitting in the driver’s seat, the tears began to flow. You sobbed into your hands as you tried to think about what you were even going to do now that you left the office. You waited until the tears slowed and your breathing went back to normal, and then decided that your first stop was going to be home. You needed to be in clothes that were more comfortable that what you had on.

When you pulled into the driveway, you were hoping that you’d see Bishop’s bike, but no such luck. He had already taken off for the day and it made your chest feel heavy. With a deep sigh you got out and walked into the house, looking around as you made your way to the bedroom. It all felt so much duller and emptier now and you hated that you felt that way about the place that was supposed to be your home. You knew that Bishop was gone because he was out on club business, and you didn’t want to be the partner that showed up at the clubhouse and dragged all your personal shit into the MC, but it was tempting. You just wanted to have a real conversation with him for the first time in weeks.

You decided that you would wait to see if he texted you with an update. If he said that it was going to be another late night, you’d go to the clubhouse. You had earned that. In the meantime, to try and keep your mind occupied, you decided that staying in the house wasn’t doing you any good at all. While you had spent a considerable amount of time alone lately, none of it was really “you time”. So you decided to try and make the afternoon all about you.

You grabbed yourself your favorite excessive coffee order from the café down the street, and took yourself shopping. Even if you didn’t end up buying anything, spending the afternoon trying on fun outfits was a welcome distraction. It felt nice to simply do something for yourself after feeling like all of your energy lately was being spent on everyone else and no one else was bothering to return the favor.

You were changing into what felt like your hundredth outfit of the day, and for the first time in a while you felt happy. It felt nice to be taking some time for yourself despite the circumstances that landed you there in the first place. You slipped into a cocktail dress that had caught your eye while you were wandering through the store. It wasn’t a dress that you would necessarily have a lot of occasions to wear it, but something about it told you to try it on anyway.

It felt nice, and looked even better. After zipping up the back, you took a moment to look at yourself in the mirror and you felt a smile creep across your face. It wasn’t anything overly fancy, but that was part of what drew you to it in the first place. The dress was a deep burgundy color and it was short, but you knew that Bishop always loved seeing you in short-shorts and mini-skirts anyway. It clung nicely to your body but it wasn’t suffocating you. it had long sheer sleeves that made you feel a little elegant, too. You smiled as you grabbed your phone out of your purse and took a selfie to send to Bishop.

“For our next date night?” was all you said along with the photo.

The response came before you could even set your phone back into your purse, “Absolutely. Please tell me you’re buying that”

You smiled, shaking your head slightly as you responded, “Guess you’ll have to take me on a date and find out for yourself”

You bought the dress, along with a few other cute items that had caught your eye. You didn’t want to go overboard, knowing that retail therapy had hurt your bank account on more than one occasion. You found a place to eat lunch and gave yourself time to sit, relax, and people-watch. The afternoon ticked by and you still hadn’t heard anything from Bishop. You were hoping that no news was good news and maybe he’d make it home at a decent hour for once. You could only hope. You could only distract yourself and stay away from home for so long before you had to head back.

You were parked in the driveway, staring at the home you supposedly shared with Bishop, not that either of you were there all that much these days, let alone there together. All the lights were off and you didn’t want to get out of the car. You took a deep breath and reached to unbuckle your seatbelt when your phone started to ring.

It was Bishop’s name flashing across the screen, and you almost didn’t want to pick up. You sighed, hitting the green button, “Hey, baby,” your voice was soft, hopeful, “everything okay?”

There was a pause, “Um, yea. Everything’s okay. I just, it’s going to be another late one. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You took a deep breath, “Okay. Thanks for the heads-up.”

He could hear the detachment in your voice, “I’ll make this up to you, sweetheart, I promise. I know things have been off lately.”

“It’s alright. Take care of the club. Get home safe.”

“I love you,” his tone conveyed that he was saying it because he meant it, but also to see if you were going to say it back.

You were trying not to let your voice crack, “I love you too,” you hung up before he would be able to hear you crying.

You cried it out in the car for a few minutes. Part of you knew that it was going to happen, but another part was still hopeful that maybe things were going to be okay, that if you tried to put it out into the universe, it would happen. But there was no amount of positive thinking that could change the reality of the circumstances you were in.

After taking a few deep breaths, you turned the car back on and pulled out of the driveway to head to the clubhouse. You weren’t going to cause a scene, but you were going to have a face-to-face conversation with Bishop. This all had to stop—you couldn’t feel lonely indefinitely. You loved him but you knew that you both deserved better than that.

You walked into the clubhouse and it was all silent. There was no one around save for EZ standing behind the bar. His eyes grew wide when he saw you—he could see that your eyes were puffy from crying. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say to you or offer you. You sniffled slightly, trying to gain enough composure to talk to him without breaking down.

“Bishop around?”

He nodded towards the back room, “They’re all in Templo. It might be a while. Do you…do you want me to get him?”

You could see the anxiety on his face at the thought of interrupting Templo. You gave him a small smile and shook your head, “Not necessary, EZ. Thank you, though. When they come out, can you just let him know that I’m outside waiting for him?”

He nodded, “Of course. Do you want a beer or anything?”

You thought about it for a moment before nodding and walking over, gratefully accepting the bottle that he handed you, “Thank you.”

You strolled out of the clubhouse and onto the small deck. You took a seat on top of the picnic table, your feet resting on the bench. The sun was just starting to go down and the sky above the compound was lit up in a million different colors. You quickly wiped the tears off of your face before taking another swig from your bottle.

You dug around in your purse and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. You really weren’t much of a smoker, just when you were stressed. Suffice to say that for the past weeks you had been smoking a lot more than normal. You lit it and inhaled, holding it for a moment before exhaling the smoke and watching it swirl and dissipate around you.

Time seemed irrelevant as you sat on the table. You didn’t look at your phone, didn’t really try to keep yourself busy with anything besides nursing your beer and smoking your cigarette. When both of those were done you didn’t get another, just letting yourself stew with your thoughts as you waited for Bishop to finally have a moment for you.

The sun had long since set by the time you heard footsteps on the deck behind you. He didn’t say anything at first as he sat down next to you, his leg pressing lightly against yours. He rested his hand on your thigh and you almost broke down.

“Everything alright?” he asked the question despite knowing the answer.

A humorless laugh came out of you as you wiped tears off of your cheeks, “That seems like a pointless question at this point, doesn’t it?” you dropped your face into your hands, taking a shaky breath before forcing out the question, “What are we even doing anymore, Obispo? I just, I feel like we aren’t even really together anymore.”

“I know it’s been difficult lately but—”

“You realize this is the first face-to-face conversation I’ve had with you in over a week?” you shook your head, “And I had to come down here and sit out on this fucking deck for god knows how long just to get some time with you. I can’t…I think about the rest of my life and I just, I can’t,” a sob broke your sentence, “Forever is a long time to feel like this, Obispo.”

“It won’t be like this forever, though, Y/N.”

“How can you be so sure? I, I know that I’ve been keeping my opinions to myself because the club is your thing and it’s really not any of my business, but fuck, I feel like I’ve lost you. You know, I looked back through our texts today. And with the exception of a very small handful, all of them were apologies. They were all apologies and cancelled plans and just,” you tried to take a breath to calm your voice, “I can’t keep doing this. I know the club is a priority and I respect that. I respect it enough to not try and make you choose. This,” you gestured to the clubhouse, “is where you need to be. And that’s…fine. But I can’t stay in that fucking house alone all the time.”

“You think that I don’t want to be there with you?” he was never one to get loud with you, but his tone was frigid, “You think that I’ve liked having to be away from you so much these past few weeks? I’m not enjoying the bullshit that I’ve been having to deal with.”

“I’m not saying that you do. But there’s always going to be bullshit, isn’t there? We’re both always going to have bullshit going on. But it looks different for you than it does for me. Most of the time I can drop most of mine at the door, but you don’t even get to make it to the door. We can’t even try to be there for each other when all of this is happening and that’s just not fair to either of us. We shouldn’t feel so alone when things are falling apart.”

“I’m sorry that you’ve felt alone.”

“You haven’t?”

The question made him pause. His concern was always trying to be there for you, and he knew that he hadn’t been. But he could feel that you were always trying to be there for him despite his absence. He sighed shaking his head, “No, I haven’t. And it’s on me that you’ve been feeling that way. I’m sorry that I haven’t been there for you the way that you have been for me,” he gave your leg a light squeeze, “But you can’t leave, please.”

“What do you want from me, Obispo?”

“A little more time,” there were tears in his eyes and it hit you that you had never seen him cry until this moment, “Please, Y/N, just give me a little more time. I know that this has all been hard on you, and that I’ve been far away from you in every sense. But I can do better—I will do better. I just, I need you to give me the chance to prove it,” he nodded slightly as he wiped tears away before they fell down his cheeks, “We can get through this.”

“How?” it felt like it took all of your strength to say one word.

“Together, the way we always do. You’re right, forever is a long time. It’s a very long time to be without you and I can’t see my life being that way. We can figure this out. We promised that we’d be there for each other no matter what and that’s exactly what we’re going to do. I’m a man of my word, or at least, I try to be. We’re gonna see it through, Y/N. We’re going to figure this out.”

Despite how hard it was for you to say everything that you had said to him, you had to admit that your heart felt a little lighter solely from being able to actually see him and talk to him. You were still hurting, but you wanted to believe that he meant what he had said and that the two of you were going to work on things going forward.

“I want to believe you,” you looked down and interlocked your fingers with his.

“Please. If we end up having to have this conversation again, I won’t ask you to stay. But please, give me a chance. We can get through this.”

You took your hand from his and held out your pinky, “Promise?”

He smiled, nodding as he locked his pinky with yours, “Promise.”

He pulled you into a tight hug as you cried into his chest. The weight of the last three weeks poured out of you as he held you. he pressed gentle kisses into the top of your head and rubbed your back, knowing that this is what you’d been needing all along that he hadn’t been there for. He told you over and over again that he loved you, and that it was going to be okay. And, despite the weight in your chest, you believed him.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered as you wrapped your arms around him, “I promise.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #bishop losa #bishop x reader #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa x you #obispo losa #obispo losa x reader #obispo losa imagine #bishop losa fanfiction #bishop losa angst #my writing #drabblesmc #fanfiction

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whyarewecalledtheshipname · 3 years

Text

kh3, recoded spoilers:

another part to my data boys as gummiphone assistants crack lol. Basic concept: Data Sora and Data Riku get sent to Riku's phone to accompany him on his ventures through unreality.

in this installment: Riku realizes his kh munny doesn't work in Unreality, so Data Riku pulls some bs in order to help Riku win prize money in a motorcycle race.

warnings: some cussing, ig, crack

___

“That’ll be $25.03.”

Riku blinks. He looks down at his munny. He doesn’t know how to divide a single munny into “point three” munny. He’s never needed to do that back home.

He does the next best thing, and holds out twenty-six munny.

The cashier reflexively reaches out his hand, then pulls away. He stares at Riku’s hand, then glares at Riku’s face.

Riku pulls his munny back just an inch. “...I’m sorry, I only have twenty-six.”

The cashier squints, then glares again. “Is this a joke or something?”

Riku’s phone rings in his pocket, but Riku feels himself growing confused, and doesn’t want to add the data kids to the mess. “I don’t understand. What’s wrong? Is it the total?”

The cashier looks to the side, as if attempting to take a mental break from the situation, before turning back to Riku. “Dude, stop with the prank. You already ordered your food, just—”

“What is it?” someone calls from within the kitchen of the restaurant.

“Hold the food,” the cashier calls back. “This guy’s trying to pay in marbles or something.”

“What the fuck?”

Riku blinks. What did that mean? The word, the marbles, the prank, all of it?

“I’m sorry,” Riku apologizes again, and he knows Data Sora is going to give him a talking to for it. “I’m—Cancel my order, I—”

The cashier sighs, and taps on the monitor of the register. “Alright, man, just—don’t do this kinda stuff; no one watches prank videos anymore.”

Riku nods, despite not understanding a word being said, and ducks out of the restaurant, munny in hand.

He wanders the streets for a good while, until his confusion and embarrassment simmer down. Only then does he finally answer his phone, which hasn’t stopped ringing incessantly.

“Hellooo?!”

Riku braces himself. “What is it, Sora—”

“Riku! What was that? What happened? Why didn’t you answer? And what did I tell you about over-apologizing?”

“I was busy,” Riku quickly answers, if only because otherwise, Data Sora would keep asking questions.

“Busy not eating! And right when you finally decided to! Go back!”

Riku thinks about the munny he’d stuffed back in his pocket, and feels his earlier frustration returning. “And what? They wouldn’t take my munny, and I don’t think it’s because of something I did.”

Data Riku scoffs, and it’s the first sound he’s made this whole time. “That’s why I was calling you. Was there a weird “S” looking symbol on the menu?”

Riku doesn’t have to think twice. It had stood out to him instantly. “Yeah.”

“I thought so. That symbol represents the currency here. Your munny from home is different, and it won’t work here.”

“Then why didn’t you warn him?” Data Sora chides, lightly smacking Data Riku's elbow.

“I didn’t check until just a while ago, okay?”

Data Sora gasps, his mild anger seemingly vanishing. “Riku? Not planning ahead?”

Data Riku rolls his eyes, but Data Sora’s antics instantly improve Riku’s mood.

“So now what?” Riku asks, and now there’s less tension in his voice. “I haven’t run into any monsters here, and who’s to say they’d drop munny anyway?”

Data Sora crosses his arms into his usual thinking pose, humming. Data Riku, on the other hand, raises an eyebrow at Riku. The little smirk is back, and Riku can’t believe he used to do such a thing.

“I think I found something,” is all Data Riku says.

Data Sora’s arms fling out beside him in surprise. “Huh?”

Data Riku answers by strolling over to his beloved keyboard, and calling up a holographic display.

Riku blinks, and Data Sora gasps.

“So,” Data Riku asks cheekily, “do you remember how to ride?”

~<~>~

“How did you know about that?” Riku asks as he follows the gps on his phone. He glances up to read a street sign, then looks down at his phone again.

Data Riku scoffs. “Come on. If there’s one adventure of yours I have data of, it’s your time in The Grid.”

“That makes sense.”

Data Sora is turning from one Riku to the other, eyes wide. “Huh? Adventure? Grid? What’re you guys talking about?”

Data Riku points at the hologram in the middle of the room, and Data Sora is transfixed on it once more.

“What I understand so far is that you have to sign up for these things in advance,” Data Riku explains. “Because it’s an official event, which is the only kind that will even give you a chance at winning prize money.”

“Prize munny?” Data Sora asks. “I thought munny was no good here.”

“Currency,” Data Riku clarifies. “Money, different from ours. Or at least this world’s equivalent of munny.”

Riku turns a corner, and suddenly he hears the echoes of squealing tires. It sends a rush of excitement through Riku’s veins.

An obvious hole in their plan then makes itself known.

“How am I supposed to race? I don’t have a bike.”

Riku’s words cause Data Sora to turn back to the hologram from before, and he practically drools over the flickering image of a motorcycle. “Biiike…”

Data Riku keeps typing without missing a beat. “I was going to focus on the process of registering you for the races in the first place, first. But—” and Riku’s screen suddenly shows a different display “it’s done. Almost. Basically.”

Riku scans the webpage on his screen, slightly distracted by the increasing sounds of revving engines and the smell of burning rubber.

“This is the login screen for current racers,” Data Riku’s voice explains. “This will serve as a pathway between the gummiphone and the servers housing the roster data. I’ll do some tweaking, and if all goes well, you should appear on the roster as if you’ve been entered the whole time.”

Something about this situation feels vaguely familiar to Riku, but’s it’s a barely-there sensation that’s interrupted by the sound of Data Sora snoring in the background. Riku smiles. “What do you need me to do?”

The gummiphone screen switches back to the room in the datascape. “Here? Nothing,” Data Riku answers. “What I do want you to do is find me a vessel.”

Riku stops walking midstep. “What?!”

Again, Data Riku doesn’t even blink at his monitor. “It’s not for me. It’s for you. Or, more accurately, your bike.”

At this, Data Sora wakes up from his standing nap. “Bike? What bike?”

Both Riku’s smile.

“Exactly,” Data Riku says. “I can’t just make a bike out of nowhere, not out there. The code needs to exist within something tangible, preferably something which’s code I can simply rewrite.”

Riku nods, and looks around. “Alright. What exactly could you use as this ‘something’?”

The display on Riku’s phone screen changes, flickering between various images of different types of electronics.

“Any smart device should work. They’re like your gummiphone, devices that can be personalized and connect and interact with you as its user and other compatible devices.”

Riku commits the appearance of said devices to memory, and resumes his search. “Where could I find one?”

“...Go into that restaurant.”

Riku looks at his phone to see what Data Riku is referring to. Across the street is what looks like a fast food place, but Riku doesn’t understand.

“Why? I can’t buy anything there. That’s the whole reason we’re going through all this trouble to win prize money at the races.”

Data Riku is grinning, and it’s unsettling. “Just go in.”

Against his better judgement, Riku listens.

Once inside the restaurant, Data Riku instructs Riku to approach one of the booths labeled “self-checkout”. In the booth is a large tablet fixed in place, where it seems customers can place their order themselves without the need for a cashier.

Riku is about to experimentally tap at the display, when suddenly, the tablet starts to seemingly leak pixels—

—until it disappears in a shower of code.

“Oop—”

“Okay, leave the building,” Data Riku instructs.

Riku blinks. “What—Where did the screen go?”

“Don’t worry about it, just leave.”

Riku gapes at his phone. “Are you—Are you stealing?”

“Mind not announcing it to everyone here?” Data Riku’s arms are crossed. “And don’t forget we’re the same person. If I’m stealing, you’re stealing. Now let’s go.”

“Excuse me?” a voice calls, and Riku spots a woman in a uniform walking toward him. “Sir, do you need any—?”

Of course, this is the moment Data Sora decides to join the fun. “We’re stealing?! Awesome!” His voice rings clear from the phone speakers, and the woman balks.

Riku panics for a second, then bolts out the door. Behind him, he hears a voice shout, “What the fuck?”

He isn’t of a mind to ponder the word meaning this time.

On his phone screen, Data Sora is cackling, throwing his arm over Data Riku’s shoulder, who’s having way too much fun at Riku’s expense.

“I can’t believe you just stole a whole tablet,” Riku grunts as he flees the scene.

“Thanks for the vessel,” Data Riku answers, sounding unusually cheerful. “Hurry and get to the track.”

“I’d get there a lot faster with that bike you promised. It’s the least you can do after stealing from that restaurant. I can’t believe—”

Data Sora is still having the time of his life. “Way to go, Riku!” And Data Riku looks way too proud of himself at the praise.

Riku rolls his eyes after glancing over his shoulder for any pursuers. “Teenagers.”

“Alright, jump!”

“What—”

“Jump!”

Riku sees the pixels up ahead, glittering and reforming into a familiar shape.

He jumps.

And he lands on something solid just as the pixels settle into their new form.

People, cars, and buildings all flash past Riku as he crashes down the street, toward his original destination. Data Sora is absolutely losing it as he watches from the gummiphone (which Riku had docked on the console), and looks like he might pass out when Data Riku emulates the scene within their world, with the two of them cruising on a shared bike.

“Wait,” Riku shouts over the wind, and the engine. “Couldn’t I just sell this thing for money?”

“You’d really sell something that you stole?” Data Riku calls back, grinning when Data Sora wraps his arms around his waist.

Riku would swerve into a post if he could focus on the gummiphone for more than a split second at a time. “I didn’t steal anything; that was all you.”

“You keep telling yourself that.”

___

i didn't even get to write him actually racing lol oops. and there's a whole other side to this i'm imagining where sora drags yozora to the very same races riku is about to pop up in, sort of a rapunzel/eugene vibe lmao. yozora really doesn't know why tf his heart tells him to put up with sora's shit but he does it anyway. my poor amnesiac boys.

i also know i didn't really explain my bs logic for how data riku turns a tablet into a motorcycle (i never even mentioned the motorcycle once it appeared either LMAO). i would have, in data riku fashion, but it would've made for a block of text full of made up nonsense lol

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azucanela · 4 years

Note

Ahh i'm glad you write for them, thank you so much for answering my question :) may i ask for Dabi, Shigaraki and Toga headcanons w/ a female reader that likes to sing but is kinda shy about it? and like one time they catch her singing and are just speechless because her voice is so beautiful? Thank you so much :)

HEARING THEIR SHY S/O SING[HEADCANNONS]

[ft. dabi, shigaraki tomura, and toga himiko]

SUMMARY: in which Y/N can sing but nobody else knew that, until they did, and let me tell you they were SHOCKED.

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

WARNINGS: implications of death, implications of nsfw, almost nudity bc towels, embarrassment, dabi being a perv, blood, injuries

A/N: this concept makes me happy lol, dabi’s is my favorite kjsahkjfshdkjh anyways ofc bb thank you for requesting! this is adorable :D

DABI

in all honesty, you’re probably singing in the shower and dabi is super nosy and has zero shame, so he kinda just comes into the bathroom while you are showering, like a perv

he hears you singing in the shower because he randomly shows up to your apartment, and he kinda just listens from outside for a hot minute because WOW, there is no one else it could be, unless you lived with a ghost who took 30 minute showers just like you did

he sincerely doubted this was the case

he’s vibing tbh, after he collects himself, he’ll kinda just take a seat on the toilet with a small smile on his face, and you won’t hear him unless he decides to sing along just to give you a heart attack

probably realizes that the reason he didn’t already know you have the voice of a literal angel is because of the fact that you’re a shy bb, and he’s gonna savor this while it lasts

he will tease you though, when you come out of the shower, grabbing your towel and then opening the shower curtain to him just sitting there, dopey smile on his face

“hey doll.”

you curse him out, cheeks warming, you lowkey forgot that you have no clothes on as you cuss him out, and he APPRECIATES the sight before him

you being angry is a TURN O N, angry and naked? even better

i think you know where this about to go

anyways as you curse him out for invading your privacy, you do be feeling EMBARRASSED because you were singing your heart out in there and he was just listENING

the audacity.

“you’re a really good singer, babe.”

Now you are more embarrassed and it suddenly dawns on you that you are not wearing clothes, just a towel to cover your body, and you are glaring at this mans because what the-

“what were you even thinking?!”

“that i would listen to my beautiful girlfriends equally beautiful voice.”

the type to ask you to sing for him, he has no shame like i said, will randomly say, “i like this song, think you could sing for me?”

you’re shy and like nO

he’s like, “come on babe, a private session ;)”

yeah he really likes this whole singing thing and will hype you up, but subtly, like hes constantly complimenting your singing voice because it really is just super pretty and he wants you to know this so that you’ll sing more

already comes to your home randomly, but this will increase in frequency because he really wants to hear you sing more AND catch you singing in the shower

LOWKEY

REALLY REALLY LOWKEY

LIKE R E A L L Y LOWKEY

i can see him asking you to sing him to sleep, it reminds him of his childhood because he finds comfort in your voice, and this would be the only time he’s shy about it

you’re just like WHAT internally, because if you express your shock externally he IS going to retreat back into himself and you will have lost your chance at a emotionally available Dabi

my type is emotionally unavailable people sigh

SHIGARAKI TOMURA

most confused award goes to this mans

you’re probably just singing along to your music as you clean your room, he told you he was dropping by, hence the cleaning, you are also dancing because why not vibe

he opens the door, you don’t hear him with your earbuds in, and he kinda just freezes at the door because thats your voice

your actual voice

he listens for a bit because it sounds pretty and he likes it, he’s really confused, but he likes it, and you

tbh this is a really domestic moment and tomura is really shocked that he’s enjoying leaning up against your doorway as you treat the broom in hand as a mic and belt out some nice lyrics

kinda hates that he likes it

they you turn around after finishing the song with a dramatic little ending, and open your eyes to see your lovely emotionally constipated boyfriend standing there, albeit uncomfortably, his arms are awkwardly crossed and he’s squirming under your gaze

“so... is that your quirk?” genuinely thinks you are such a good singer that it is your QUIRK to be a literal ANGEL

you’re too mortified to answer because shyness, mouth gaping open as you grapple for words and you feel your entire body heat up in embarrassment. You genuinely are contemplating jumping onto your bed and screaming into your pillow before suffocating yourself with it.

“how long have you been standing tHeRe?” your voice cracks and you lowkey wanna cry because WHAT EVEN IS THIS DAY

he kinda shrugs, “few minutes.” he’d mumble and then look up at you, he is equally nervous at this point, “you have a nice voice.”

“thank you,,,,”

he’s too awkward to ask you to sing for him, but he would try and encourage you to sing, because he really does want to hear you again, he just can’t find a way to ask you

literally this is stressing him out, just start singing randomly and he’ll appreciate it so much, don’t make him ask p l e a s e

he is definitely gonna start stopping by randomly way more often, in hopes of catching you singing once more, because thats just an experience he wants to happen again

would probably bring it up that you have a pretty voice to other league members in hopes that they’ll bully you into singing so that he doesn’t have to

sometimes he wishes he didn’t tell them though because he kinda just wants to keep you and your talent for himself

isn’t the best at hyping you up, especially not outright, definitely the most awkward of the three, but he’s going to try, purely because he thinks that if he boosts your confidence enough then he’ll hear you sing more and he won’t have to outright ask you to sing for him because that would be painful for the both of you

“you know... you sing good.”

“thank you...?”

“this is a nice song.”

“yeah,”

“sing it.”

sounds really demanding but he’s trying his hardest okay.

understands if you don’t want to sing in front of others due to your shyness, he’s awkward too, so as long as you sing for him its chill

he likes the intimacy of the moments when you sing for him and him alone, it just makes him happy to have that, especially since you are shy about singing.

TOGA HIMIKO

oh knife wife, love of my life,

that rhymes

toga is probably the most outwardly supportive of you and your singing endeavors, bbg is gonna be so happy when she finds out you can sing, unlike the other boys she won’t have time to savor it because she will immediately start talking about it

probably breaking into your home through your window because she needs medical assistance and cannot tell if the blood on her belongs to someone else or not, you are her go to because hospitals are a no no for a villain such as herself

she sees you through the window, and she can kinda hear you singing as you cook in your kitchen, though you aren’t that visible and the window blocks out most of the noise.

genuinely contemplates breaking the window so that she can hear you better because it already sounds so pretty??? how??? why didn’t she know about this, why didn’t you tell her?

the audacity honestly what are you doing

she opens the window with class instead, effectively breaking into your home, but you don’t hear her as she closes it and re-locks the window

she’s gonna be speechless for a hot minute, now that she hears your voice clearly, she’s beginning to wonder if the blood is hers and shes dead, because you have a voice that belongs in the heavens literally what-

wondering how she didn’t know about this as she bursts into your kitchen covered with blood, “Y/N BABY YOU CAN SING?”

you nearly drop the knife in your hand and cut your foot off at the sight of your bloody girlfriend like, for several reasons

one. how the hell did she get into your apartment. two, why is she covered in so much blood???? three. she heard you singing. oh god she head you singing. time to panic and die

you kinda freeze and your mouth gapes open because you are so confused and panicked right now as your hands begin to gesture vividly while you search for words, trying to avoid her gaze and questions as your face heats up

this shock and panic distracts you from the fact that she broke into your house covered in blood as you respond, “i mean anyone can sing-”

“you sing GOOD.”

brags about you being such a good singer ALL THE TIME, literally how she introduces you to people, much to your dismay

will ask you to sing for her with no shame, unlike dabi she isn’t even going to shut down if you say no or find it weird, she’s just gonna keep asking until you agree to do it

would not be opposed to falling asleep to your similar voice, in fact, your voice is one of few things that calms her down

she’s literally just so excited about the fact that you can sing, like WOW, the whole league is gonna know so fast, she’s just

SO HAPPY

she’s literally going to be hyping you up 24/7 like even if the conversation has nothing to do with it, she’s going to tell you how amazing you are and try to help you overcome your shyness because your talent must be SHARED WITH THE WORLD

just a super supportive gf at the end of the day we love toga

A/N: the vibes are immaculate, sing for your evil lover, that is the point here

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