Ghost who hasn't wagged his tail in *years*, and then Johnny comes around.
It starts as just a slight swish, something that could be mistaken for him just moving his tail out of the way. And then it escalates. It goes from that, to full on, nearly tail-spraining wagging within the first week of them knowing each other. Worst part (for Ghost) is that he doesn't even realize he's doing it at first. Not until a few days after it starts, at least, when he accidentally knocks over Price's mug of coffee because Soap laughed at a joke he told.
He's both embarrassed and horrified; embarrassed because he's always thought he could keep his emotions in check and nothing like this has ever happened before, horrified because he's just covered Price in hot coffee because of his excitement like he's a pup that's still learning spacial awareness.
It's a few months of him forcing his tail to stop wagging so much later when he and Soap are made to share a bed together in a hotel room they misbooked for an event. Soap insists he can sleep in the chair or on the floor, but there's no way in hell Ghost is about to let that happen. He all but orders him to sleep in the bed with him. They lay there and talk for a few hours before they are finally sleepy enough to start falling asleep. Ghost hadn't slept proper for a few days, having just gotten back from a solo mission right before the 141 were whisked away for the event. He'd blame the lack of sleep for his loose lips later, as he mumbles a quiet "Johnny".
Soap hums questioningly, brought back from the brink of sleep by the thought that Ghost needs him. "What's that LT?"
Ghost sighs, and then answers in a way that surprises Soap as much as it warms his heart. "Nothin.. Just like the way your name feels. It's a nice name."
Soap can't help his smile as he pulls Ghost closer and kisses him on the forehead. Ghost's tail starts going as he smiles himself, the type of smile that seems reserved for Soap, and Soap alone. The type of smile that makes his nose crinkle a bit and makes Soap want to kiss it too, so he does. Ghost's tail only wags harder as he snuggles in closer to Soap, nuzzling his face against his chest as Soap wraps his arms around him.
Ghost drifts off to sleep feeling loved, protected, and more comfortable than he's felt in a very long time. Soap soon follows.
Dustin shows up at your door crying after an argument with Steve, and in the midst of trying to console him, you confess something you weren't even sure about until this moment.
Tags: Love Confessions, Dustin Henderson x Reader, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, steve harrington is a little shit, wrote this instead of sleeping, not beta read, men crying, Dustin Henderson needs a hug, literally sleeping together.
Warnings: None! Pure fluff and angst, chaste kisses, nothing more.
Word Count: 1.1k
It was just past mid night, and you had finally rolled into bed, when suddenly a loud clang against your window made you jump.
At first you just ignored it, thinking it was the wind.
But it just. kept. going.
Clang, clang.
You groaned and got out of bed, reluctant to even acknowledge it. Flinging the curtains open, you were surprised to see... Dustin..?
What was he doing at your house this late at night? It was way too late to be dealing with his shenanigans, especially on a school night.
But unfortunately, being his best friend, you were obligated to answer him.
"What?" You whisper-yelled out the window, only to be met with silence, "Hello..?"
Sniffle
What? Was he crying?
"C-can you just open the door?" He sobbed.
Well, fuck.
You practically sprinted down the steps, both irritated and concerned that Dustin Henderson was at your door.
"Dust, what's wrong?" You asked once you swung the door open. He was quite tense, shoulders stiff and uninviting.
"Steve and I got in a fight." He breathed out as he fidgeted with his hands, looking down to avoid your gaze. He never enjoyed eye contact during moments such as these.
"Come inside." You stepped to the side, letting him in before shutting the door behind him. He already knew where to go, bee-lining for the steps.
The walk up the stairs was silent. An awkward, uncomfortable silence that was unusual for Dustin. It's not like he'd never been to your house before, you'd had him over plenty of times. You guys would screw around with whatever new gadget he'd had acquired, and sometimes break it in the process. But he'd never shown up crying.
You sat him down on your bed, plopping comfortably beside him.
"Okay, so what happened exactly?" You said, hands crossed in your lap carefully.
He sniffed, wiping his tears, like he was preparing himself to give a grand speech.
"We uh, we were talking about how I'm leaving for college in a few months, and I asked him if he had ever considered applying anywhere. Apparently he took offense to that and started yelling at me about how I thought I was so much better than him for going to college." He paused, closing his eyes and letting out a calming, shaky breath.
"I said, um, I-" Blinking, he wiped his face with his hands. "I tried to defend myself, but he just wouldn't let up. He was treating me like a child. I called him.. terrible things. I said that it didn't even matter if he applied or not, cause no one would take him anyway." His voice wavered on the last word, the fidget of his hands getting progressively messier. "I-.. fuck. Why did I say that."
Eventually he began rocking back and forth, the well of tears in his eyes breaking your heart. Seeing him like this was like torture. Standing still and just watching him fall apart was agonizing.
You couldn't take it any more, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing him tight as the tears finally fell from his eyes.
"He- he's never gonna talk to me again! I can't lose him." Your shirt wrinkled as he fisted his hands in it, ducking his head into your chest. "I can't lose him, not like Eddie. E-eddie's gone, oh god." His breathing had become ragged, wrecked sobs leaving his mouth as he hyperventilated.
"Dustin, Dustin." You pulled his face up to look into your eyes, pulling him all the way to lay in your lap. "Everything's gonna be fine. Steve will forgive you, okay?"
"You don't know that! What if he never forgives me?" The grip he had on your shirt turned his knuckles white, and the strength of his other arm around your back was near painful.
"Breathe." You laced your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer to your chest.
"What if you leave me? What- what will happen then?"
"Dustin, that would never happen." He was very clearly being bombarded with stress. From Eddie's death to college, it never stopped. But you were always there. This was no exception.
"You don't know that." He sobbed.
"Yes, I do. Look at me" He complied, red, swollen eyes looking up at you from your chest. "If there's one thing on this Earth I am 100% confident about, it's that I will never leave you. Dustin Henderson, you are an amazing, talented, man. I love you too much to leave you."
His eyes softened with your words, another, single tear falling from his eyes before he wiped them all away.
"You love me..?" He was almost confused, as if he hadn't spent nearly every day with him for the past 10 years. The way he looked like a kicked puppy as he stared into your eyes made you melt, making you smile.
"Yeah, I guess I do." You tucked a stray curl behind his ear, cupping his face. Although it's not like it did much, his hair wild and messy from all the ruffling of your hand in his hair.
"I love you too." He smiled for the first time since he'd arrived at your doorstep. A genuine, film-worthy smile.
He dove his head back into your chest, taking comfort in the way your perfume twirled in the air around you both. You continued petting at his hair, leaning your head down to rest on his as you twirled his curls in your fingers.
After a few minutes, he looked up at you, no more tears.
"Would it be weird if I kissed you right now?"
"No, not considerably." You smiled as he sat up a bit, trying to get more eye level with you.
Your lips met in a soft, chaste kiss. The softness of his lips making fireworks go off in the back of your mind; the emotional burden now released.
He pulled back after a few seconds, hand still cupping your cheek. He leaned his head into the crook of your neck comfortably, humming softly. It was all quite sweet, the feather-light touch of your hand in his hair, the way his arms wrapped around your waist.
The way his breathing evened out told you he was nearing sleep, so you leaned back and shut off your lamp.
"We can talk more tommorow. Sweet dreams, Dusty." You pulled your fluffy blue blanket over the both of you, leaning back into your pillows.
The only thing audible in the dark room was the sound of Dustin's breathing syncing with yours. You pressed a soft kiss to his head, slumber falling over you both.
A lot had happened that night, most definitely for the better.
Pairing: Tim Drake x Konner Kent (TimKon)
Warnings: Identity reveal, fluff
summary: Kon has a celebrity crush on Timothy Jackson Drake, he also has a real crush on his coworker(?) Robin. Lucky for him, they’re the same person.
Ananas comment: inspired by this TikTok
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You see, Konner Kent knew he had a type. Thinking about all his crushes, the pattern was obvious.
Sassy, smart, sick looking guys with eyebags large enough to replace his backpack.
So it was no surprise that once he saw Timothy Jackson Drake, he was hypnotised. Pale white skin, jet black hair, sky blue eyes… he looked tired yet witted the reporters like it was his job.
He had a voice that made him blush and god- he was a sucker for the way his muscle stretched when he moved.
Needless to say, Konner Kent knew he had now what many called a Celebrity Crush.
Tim Drake was a rich Gotham socialite. He was a CEO, had skipped a couple years in school and juggled two multimillion dollar companies at once. Yeah. That guy was his type.
Despite his little celebrity crush, his real life crush was even worse.
Fucking Robin.
Batmans protege. The boy that planned everything ahead, ran on energy drinks and had him dreaming of… things.
Sometimes sweet dreams, where they go on a date. Sometimes nightmares where Kon watches Robin get injured. Sometimes dreams that shouldn't be talked about. But always featuring Robin.
It was worse considering he didn't knew Robins identity but Robin knew who Kon is. It was never said explicitly but you know, Batman and Robin.
Now why was he thinking about this all? Because he was watching a Tim Drake interview on the TV right now. He had a classic suit on, white shirt and all. His tie was around his gorgeous neck- why was this man so Beautiful?
"Say, Mister Drake, is it true that you are funding the Justice League to some extend?" The reporter asked. They were always after stories like this so they could start and argument between the pro-hero and anti-hero communities.
But Kon was curious too, was Tim Drake funding the League?
"Excellent question, though I would like to know what the Justice League has to do with the opening of an orphanage?" Tim raised his eyebrows, crossing his arms on his chest. Kon looked away as if they made eye contact. Yup, he was hot.
"Hahaha…" the reporter laughed nervously. "Just curiosity, you see, there are rumours…" Tim smirked slightly, just enough to be visible but not enough to be mean or anything. "No Gloria, Drake Industries is not funding the Justice League. Nor is Wayne Enterprises. We are funding the victims they save."
"And what about the younger heroes?" The reporter pressed. She was pressing for something.
"Is there something specific you're looking for? An answer you want for your story? Today is about the orphans, not about heroes"
"Well, Superboy has seemingly saved a lot of kids and brought them to this orphanage. What are your thoughts on him?"
Kon remembered the building they were in front of, Robin had said they could trust it since it was a Wayne Enterprises project. So they brought the kids who lost their families in a disaster to this orphanage that was having its official opening at the moment.
"How am I supposed to know what they were thinking? Really, you are reading too much into this." Tim sighed, shaking his head disapprovingly. "But I would say Superboy looks hot, if that's what you're fishing for"
Kon.exe has shut down.
Timothy Jackson Drake knew who he was…
Timothy Jackson Drake thinks he's hot…
Wow…
"Superboy?" Robin called out for him. "What are you watching- oh, the interview from yesterday got aired?"
Kon looked at Robin, he was in comfortable clothes even though he had his mask on. "You watched it already?"
Robin nodded and dropped next to him on the couch, stretching his arms.
Damn, those arms did things to his heart.
"Media in Gotham City gets to other cities later on, since they want to monitor what news go out. Especially The Waynes"
"The Waynes? Why?" Kon tilted his head, confused. Hehehehe Kon-Fused.
"You wouldn't wanna know what news they keep only in Gotham, believe me…"
Tim was having flashbacks on the video of Bruce dancing in the iceberg Launge.
"They want to keep the "Professional Wayne Family" image outside of Gotham. Inside of Gotham, everyone watched them grow up so…"
Robin shrugged and leaned his head on Superboy shoulder. "Why are you watching this anyways?"
Kon looked away, blushing.
"It's… about the orphanage we dropped the kids at"
Robin nodded, yawning. "They left out the part where Drake says he wouldn't mind paying Superboy back in differentways if he ever got saved by him…" his voice was sleepy and deep and wait- what did Tim Drake say?
"What?"
Robin was already half asleep. "Wait, I need an Energy…"
"No, you need sleep" Kon wrapped an arm around Robins waist to keep him in place.
"But the new case-"
"Sleep" Kon pressed and pulled Robin on his lap.
He could blush over this later.
Robin yawned again and leaned into Kons neck. "Fine…"
Kon held his breath so he wouldn't wake him up.
Would it be wrong to peak under his mask?
Kons fingers started to trace the edge of the domino mask. No, he couldn't. Robin was trusting him enough to sleep on him, he couldn't ruin this by crossing a line that was clear since day one.
So, he closed his eyes as well.
Just a little nap wouldn't hurt.
Kon-El had arms around his neck. That's what he noticed first. The second thing was the smell of minty bubblegum and energy drinks.
Robin.
They lay next to each other on the couch with Robin half on top of him, arms around his neck. Kon was holding him close with his arms around the boys waist.
"Rob?" He whispered the name, he didn't actually want to wake him up but wanted to be able to say "I tried waking you up".
"So handsome…" he whispered into his ear. What time was it even? He tried taking his phone from his pocket but couldn't without waking Robin up. Giving up, he sighed and started stroking Robins exposed waist.
The TV was turned off, probably a team member that came by and wanted Robin to sleep. In his sleep, Rob looked so peaceful and eternal. His hair was slightly damp and on his forehead. Kon wished he could see his eyes…
"Kon…" Robin sighed, snuggling more into Kons neck. Kon smiled, putting his other hand on Robins head to stroke his hair.
With a yawn, Robin opened his eyes. "Superboy?"
Robin had a deep morning voice.
"Y-Yes?" Kon covered his face with one hand- the one that was in Robins hair earlier- to hide his blush. His hand smelled like Robin, clean and bubblegummy.
"What time is it?" Robin rubbed his eye, head still on Kons chest.
Kon smirked, "Don't know, birdie, you're covering my pocket"
Robin rose his head, looking downwards. He could feel something hard at the side of his waist. Kon always put his phone in his front-pocket. "Oh, I'll get it" Robin reached between them to pull the phone out of Kons pocket.
"It's almost 11!" Robin tried to wiggle out of Kons arms. Emphasis on tried. "Supes?"
Kon sat up with Robin still in his arms, changing his position so that Robin was sitting on his lab. "I want a face reveal, birdie." Kon rubbed his nose against Robins. "I really, really want to see your eyes…" Kon looked pleading, cheeks slightly flushed. "Don't you trust me?"
Tim looked away for a little bit, thinking it through. He did trust Kon. He knew Kon wouldn't blab it out or something… he just felt insecure. He didn't want Kon to see his face and think he's ugly or something.
"Fucking fine" Robin pinched his nose and peeled of the mask, looking down to his hands holding the dark green domino. Bruce is going to kill me…
"Happy now?" He smiled at Kon.
Meanwhile, Kon was trying not to have a heart attack. "Oh Rob…" Kon felt like he just hit the Jackpot.
"You're beautiful, Tim Drake" Kon smiled at Tim, liking his lip piercing.
Robin- Tim, blushed- he made Timothy Drake blush. "And you're blind, Konner Kent"
The time is exactly 11 p.m. It was pouring outside with the occasional lighting strike here and there. The air smelled of the usual musty, earthly aroma that came with the rain, and for once, the streets were somewhat empty.
Kim Dan was sprinting his way through the rain up to the penthouse. His person was soaked, he had little water beads forming at the tips of his hair, his light grey hoodie was now turned dark, and with his beat up sneakers now had a new coat of mud on the bottom.
Kim Dan had been out at the library looking for books on how to treat insomnia. He knew about Jaekyung’s sleep troubles but he also knew that this may be a troubling time for him due to the fact that a big match was underway: The Championship. Ironically, Kim Dan had fallen asleep at one of the library cubicles because he had been so worried about Jaekyungs health. The only reason he actually woke up is because one of the librarians had to shake him out of his sleep.
Once he was in the elevator, he leaned against the back railing and allowed himself to relax. He let out a heavy sigh and allowed his shoulders to fall. He had made it. Even if he wasn’t punctual, he still made it.
After a while, he opened his eyes and looked around the elevator. The screen displaying what floor he was on caught his attention most. However, the numbers were unintentionally counting “up” the seconds ‘till his death.
51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59…
The closer he got, the more scared he got. Suddenly, his ears began to turn red and hot, his legs started to tremble a bit, and he could feel a tear forming out of his eye. He quickly buried his face in his hands to try and hide his discontent, but, by the way he was shaking, anyone who entered would immediately be able to tell that something was bothering him.
He had seen Jaekyung mad plenty of times. But, this time it just felt completely different. Jaekyung had asked Dan to be home. Usually he tells him. Also, Jaekyung had recently gotten better with controlling his temper and overall just being more polite. And now, Dan had ruined all of that progress with a simple nap. It was like Dan ran a mile with the inch he was given and he was scared of the consequences that would come with that.
As his emotions felt as if they were going to boil over the top, the elevator stopped. A simple ding would be the last thing that Kim Dan had ever heard before his demise, he was sure of it.
As the doors opened, he was scared to step out. He looked down into the tiny gap in between the elevator and the floor and he considered shrinking himself down and allowing himself to fall to his death. However, as the doors were closing, he was forced to get out of the elevator.
The walk from the elevator door to the apartment door felt endless. As Dan walked, his hands fumbled around his body trying to find his key while he stared straight ahead, numb.
When he finally approached the door, he stood there. He was deciding if he should run now while he has the chance and fake his death, or if he should prepare to essentially face his actual death.
When he opened the door, he was surprised to not see Jaekyung just waiting for him. Instead there was a trail of roses scattered on the ground. He took of his shoes and jacket, switched into his slippers, and he followed the trail.
Where it ended up was in the kitchen. On the counter, there was a small box with a cake inside of it. It was a small, vanilla cake with strawberry filling and icing. A simple slice of cake. Why?
Confused as ever, Kim Dan focused on looking around for Jaekyung. As he walked, he was thinking of a million different ways to say “I’m sorry” but no matter how he phrased it, he still couldn’t make this situation any better. Clearly Jaekyung had something special planned and Kim Dan just had to miss it.
The first place he checked was the living room. He knew that Jaekyung usually watched TV when he couldn’t sleep, and he was probably there just waiting to chew Kim Dan out.
When Kim Dan went there, Jaekyung was no where to be found. Not even a trace. The only thing that was in there was the teddy bear Jaekyung had won for Dan. Dan didn’t know why they kept that thing, but, he liked the memory behind it. Before he left the living room, he kissed the bears head. It was his way of paying “tribute” to that memory since he thought that that would be the only time he and Jaekyung would ever bond.
Anyway, Kim Dan rushed to Jaekyung’s bedroom. He 100% expected Jaekyung to be sitting up in bed, glasses on, face frowned. Though, Jaekyung also wasn’t there.
Now Kim Dan was starting to get worried. Did Jaekyung just leave? Was he so angry that he straight up just left? No goodbye? No explanation? No chance to explain? No hug? No anything?
Defeated, Kim Dan hung his head low and walked out of the room. He crossed his arms and started to hug himself. He wanted nothing else in the world except for Jaekyung to be happy, and the one chance he had to do right he blew it.
When he opened his door he was greeted by a series of colorful streamers that brushed past his face. As he looked around the room his eyes began to light up. He saw where Jaekyung had been this entire time.
Above the bed was a banner that read “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” and a ton of balloons were scattered on the floor. Kim Dan began to silently laugh-cry at the sight.
He knew his birthday was the day after the match, and he thought that Jaekyung would just forget about it or that he would just get a simple “happy birthday” text. He never expected Jaekyung to actually celebrate him. He was taken aback.
It seemed like while Jaekyung was waiting for Dan, he had fallen asleep with his party hat on and a party blower in hand. He had on a simple white shirt, sweatpants, and his hair was a bit messy. Even if this was lowkey to Jaekyung, it was big to Kim Dan. He had never felt appreciated by anyone that wasn’t his grandmother.
He slid into the bed next to Jaekyung and hugged Jaekyung’s back as tight as he could. Upon Kim Dan’s touch, Jaekyung sort of woke up from his sleep. He turned around to greet Kim Dan, but, he wasn’t all to happy. Dan let go of him.
“How hard is it for you to follow one simple fucking task? All I asked was for you to be home.” His voice wasn’t filled with anger. It sounded like he was hurt and confused.
Kim Dan propped himself up on his elbow and looked at the headboard, avoiding Jaekyung’s eyes, “I’m sorry, I really am. I just got caught up trying to do my best to help you before your big match and I just crashed. I fell asleep… I am truly sorry Mr. Joo, please don’t be mad!” On the last sentence, Kim Dan looked down at Jaekyung’s eyes and placed his other hand on Jaekyung’s cheek.
Jaekyung took his hand and cupped it over Dan’s, “I waited for you. I was excited, I wanted to tell you… so many things.” Jaekyung looked away from Dan, “I don’t want you to-”
Just centimeters away, Dan was nodding off.
Jaekyung sighed. He tried so hard to be serious, but he couldn’t hide his smirk. He wasn’t happy, but he wasn’t angry. He was disappointed. He had so many feelings bottled up, he had so much that he wanted to say, but he also knew how much he hurt Dan, and he wanted nothing but Dan’s forgiveness and companionship.
He sat up a bit and just admired Kim Dan. Of course, he still smelled like outside, and his hair was still a bit wet, but Jaekyung didn’t care. With the sound of the rain outside draining all of Jaekyung’s thoughts out, he watched Dan sleep. He liked the way Dan’s nose twitched sometimes. He liked the way the air that came out of Kim Dan’s nose smelt. He liked how he managed to look like such a sleeping beauty when he slept no matter the condition. He liked everything about this man, but why couldn’t he just say anything?
Jaekyung took Dan by his waist and pulled him closer. This time, Jaekyung was the little spoon. He held Dan’s waist and dug his face into Dan’s chest. He hugged him as tight as he could. Dan also hugged him back, ish… He took his arms and wrapped them around Jaekyung’s neck. Even though Kim Dan was a notorious sleepwalker, Jaekyung felt like he was going nowhere tonight.
Jaekyung closed his eyes, tightly, this was one of those moments that he wished would last forever. He looked worried. He knew that their time together was limited and he wasn’t ready to face that reality yet. For now, he was going to live in ignorant bliss.
Though he couldn’t fall asleep, he lay there simply listening to Kim Dan’s heartbeat and feeling the way Kim Dan’s chest rose up and down as he slept. Even though nothing went the way he wanted tonight, he was pleased enough to have his person with him. And he was determined to keep it that way not just for the Championship, but forever.
AUTH NOTE: Hi 🥹 This is like my first time finishing something and publishing it ever so please give me any criticism (I can take it). I would start on AO3, but that seems like it’s for the big league pros and I do NOT fit in that category.
I like this manhwa and I am sad to see it end! I have a lot of fandoms I would like to write about if this does well so stick along!
The first time it happens is a fluke so monumental that when Hitoshi wakes up he sits up almost in alarm because he slept.
He slept down in the common room, smushed against Bakugo's chest, Denki pressed to his own back and a blanket haphazardly thrown over all of them. A bleary look around reveals that almost everyone from their class is still downstairs and in some sleepy cuddle piles and Hitoshi blinks against the sting of the still running TV.
A quick glance at the clock reveals that he's been asleep for at least five hours already which is his personal record this entire year and it's confusing.
It's so confusing that it takes him way too long to see Aizawa perched at the kitchen table, working on some papers with only the help of one measly little lamp.
"You're going to ruin your eye like that," Hitoshi mutters, carefully untangling himself from his classmates, the shock of him being asleep still tingling in his fingertips.
"And you're going to ruin your back like that," Aizawa gives back without looking away from the paper and Hitoshi huffs out a breath as he ambles over and goes straight for the coffee machine.
"What are you doing here?" Hitoshi wants to know because Aizawa and Yamada have their own apartment, a cozy one, a home, so there really shouldn't be any reason for him to spend his night here with his class.
"Keeping vigil. All of them are prone to nightmares. Nightmares means waking up with their quirk at the ready, which is fine if they are alone in their own bed. This—" he nods towards all of the cuddle piles "—is kind of dangerous."
"Oh," Hitoshi breathes out because he never even thought about that before but of course it could spell disaster if Bakugo wakes up in a panic and explodes whoever is closest. Denki could shock them all to death. Mina could dissolve them on the spot.
Yeah, Hitoshi sees the danger.
"You woke up in a panic, too. Was it a dream?" Aizawa asks and Hitoshi cringes.
This is something he never brought up with them, because he knows the only solution is to take meds and he'd rather die and never sleep another minute ever again than do that. But he also promised himself he'd never lie to Aizawa or Yamada and Aizawa did just ask him a direct question.
"No," he admits and shuffles on his feet, willing the coffee to brew faster so he'll at least have something to hold on to.
Aizawa doesn't speak again but his entire face practically screams confusion at Hitoshi, who sighs.
"I don't sleep. Much. Normally. Especially not around other people," he admits and then finally he's able to burn his tongue on his piping hot coffee.
"What do you mean you don't sleep much?" Aizawa sounds honestly caught off guard and Hitoshi tries his best to hide behind the cup.
"It means just that. I just slept like—five hours all at once," he says after he confirms it again. "I think the last time that happened was before my quirk manifested."
"So it's a side-effect?"
"I guess so," Hitoshi says with a shrug. "I'm always tired but it's not debilitating. It's not something that makes me unfit to be a hero," he rushes out because Aizawa could probably pull him out of the hero course for this if he so choses and Hitoshi really doesn't want that.
"Do meds help?"
"I don't know. I never tried and I don't want to."
"Okay. Do you feel differently now that you slept for a while?"
"I feel—kind of muddled right now, actually," Hitoshi gives back and he's not sure he likes this feeling.
"How come you slept down here?" Aizawa wants to know next and isn't that the one million dollar question.
"No fucking clue," Hitoshi sighs out and his eyes flick back to where he just woke up, smushed between Bakugo and Denki, surrounded by most of his classmates.
Aizawa hums under his breath, clearly done with this line of interrogation and in all honesty, Hitoshi is thankful for it, because he doesn't seem to be mad and that's really all Hitoshi can ask for, especially once that muddled feeling gives way to a clarity in his mind Hitoshi has only very rarely experienced.
And that is something he very much likes, he realises, so he dedicates all of his newfound brainpower into finding out what made him sleep that night.
~*~*~
The obvious explanation would be that he felt safe or something close to it being surrounded by his classmates, so when the next movie night rolls around, Hitoshi is front and center, wedged between Mina and Kirishima on the couch, Denki sitting on the floor right in front of him, and he's trying his best to fall asleep, but nothing happens.
He stays wide awake until everyone shuffles off to bed and then Hitoshi watches the second part of the movie.
~*~*~
If it's not his classmates in general then maybe it were the two specific ones he woke up with. Denki will be easy enough to convince to sleep spooning him, so that's what Hitoshi does, but again, no dice. He stays up all night, expect this is kind of worse than before because he barely dares to move.
So Denki is a bust.
~*~*~
Getting Bakugo to agree to let him sleep with his head on his chest again is a sure-fire way to get himself exploded which would mean eternal rest but that hardly counts as sleep, so Hitoshi rules it out.
At least for now.
There are still other things he can try first that will result in less physical harm.
~*~*~
Hitoshi tries the couch. Maybe it was just the change of location that helped him along even though he changed families and bedrooms so fucking often in his life he barely can keep count and—surprising absolutely no one—the couch doesn't do it for him.
And worst of all, he ends up with a fucking backache. Aizawa can never know.
~*~*~
Hitoshi rules out the TV as background noise without even trying it because that's the fucking story of his life and it never ever helped him sleep even once.
~*~*~
At this point, Hitoshi is getting desperate, so he convinces himself that it was that one very specific blanket that helped him sleep so he steals that clean off the couch and wraps himself up in it for an entire night.
A night he spends staring at his goddamn ceiling because the blanket is doing shit for him.
~*~*~
He tries recreating the specific combination of foods he consumed that night but of course, that is a bust, too.
~*~*~
Hitoshi has to admit that maybe, possibly, it could be that Bakugo was part of the reason he was able to fall asleep, even though he doesn't like it. He'd rather chalk it up to a miracle bestowed upon him by the gods because that makes his quest of achieving a good night's sleep once more just as likely.
Still, Hitoshi is no quitter, so he makes a plan. While at it, he realises that he completely overlooked the fact that maybe he simply slept better on someone, so he gets Denki to help out again, but nothing.
So his next step is stealing one of Bakugo's shirts.
Thanks to his quirk Bakugo always smells faintly sweet and maybe Hitoshi just latched on to that. It's a valid thought, though it doesn't make his idea any more viable because stealing one of Bakugo's shirts proves to be quite difficult.
The guy never leaves his laundry unattended, so that is a complete bust and that means Hitoshi has to steal a shirt straight from him.
His best bet for that is the locker room and he does manage to get his hands on a shirt, but it's sweaty as fuck and smells like it, too, and Hitoshi really is not desperate enough to try sleeping with that, so he stuffs it right back where he found it.
But that means he needs a shirt from Bakugo's room directly and that only leaves him with one option—breaking in.
Hitoshi rationalises that it's a good practice for his eventual underground career as he climbs onto Bakugo's balcony.
The Baku-squad is out today, which means Bakugo is out, which means it's prime stealing time.
And Hitoshi's plan is all good and great, right until he comes face to face with Bakugo through his balcony door.
"Fuck," Hitoshi mutters, just as Bakugo yanks open the door.
"The fuck are you doing, eyebags?" Bakugo spits out and his hands are already dangerously sparking, which of course makes Hitoshi panic.
"Hi?" he weakly offers, and Bakugo's eyes narrow dangerously at him.
"Not hi. Why are you on my balcony, trying to break in?" he demands to know and yeah, okay, good question.
One Hitoshi doesn't really have an answer to so his brain blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.
"You wanna watch a movie?"
Bakugo seems to be taken just off guard by that because he blinks, rage clearly forgotten for a moment.
"I'm here because I didn't want to watch a movie with the squad, so what makes you think I'm up for a movie now?"
"It—would be with me?" Hitoshi weakly offers. "And we'd do it here?"
Bakugo musters him for a long moment, raking his eyes over him and then over the balcony as a whole, and Hitoshi sweats clean through his shirt. He's already seeing himself flying right off the balcony, or being exploded on the spot, but then, to his absolute surprise, Bakugo steps to the side.
"I decide the movie," Bakugo barks out and Hitoshi is too stunned to do anything but nod.
He has no clue how he got here, but he finds himself stretched out next to Bakugo on his bed, their sides pressed together and a laptop precariously perched on their legs with a movie Hitoshi hasn't paid a lick of attention to playing.
It isn't long before his eyes droop, before he slides down and lists to the side and when no biting comment comes, he just lets it happen.
And that's how Hitoshi wakes up, hours later, his cheek smushed into Bakugo's chest, who is just as fast asleep as Hitoshi was mere moments ago.
For a moment Hitoshi wants to bolt, but Bakugo is warm, and the bed is cozy, and his thoughts are still comfortably muddled, so instead of doing the smart thing and getting out to preserve his life, he presses closer to Bakugo, listens to his heartbeat and goes right back to sleep.
Hitoshi didn't really expect to still be alive come morning, but he wakes up after a full night of sleep to Bakugo getting ready for classes.
"Took you long enough," he gripes and stands in front of the bed. "Get ready, classes start in twenty."
Hitoshi makes a displeased sound but he does force himself out of bed, only to come face to face with Bakugo, who doesn't move away.
"You don't sleep much, do you," he says and it's not even a question.
"Not really," Hitoshi gives back and comes to the conclusion that he just slept like eight hours. At once.
This is absolutely unheard of.
"You slept here."
"You—seem to have somewhat of a calming influence on me," Hitoshi admits and realises how batshit insane his words are a moment too late.
"Calming," Bakugo repeats and he manages to make it sound like an insult.
"It's just your—" Hitoshi trails off and gestures at Bakugo at a whole.
"You didn't come here to watch a movie," Bakugo correctly infers and Hitoshi sighs.
"No. I wanted to steal a shirt to see if it's your smell that helps," he admits, cringing with how awful that sounds and Bakugo's eyes narrow at him. But Hitoshi is in it now, so he bravely continues. "I figured that would be easier than asking you to sleep with me again."
He winces as the words leave his mouth and Bakugo doesn't seem very pleased either, though he doesn't immediately move to strangle Hitoshi.
In fact, what he does do when he finally moves, is to turn away and dive right into his closet. Hitoshi is about to make a really inappropriate joke when something hits him right in the face.
"Uh," he intelligently says when the cloth—a shirt, apparently—falls down into his hands and Bakugo is very decidedly not meeting his eyes anymore.
"Take it and get he hell out of here, you're going to make me late," Bakugo mutters and for once in his life Hitoshi does just as he's being told and flees the scene.
~*~*~
The shirt—no matter how much it smells like Bakugo—does nothing for him.
~*~*~
Hitoshi is sitting on his bed, Bakugo's shirt in his hands, contemplating life.
He has barely slept a wink last night, and even though the shirt gave him something to cuddle up to that smelled like Bakugo, it didn't help with actually falling asleep and Hitoshi should be used to it.
But it seems that now that he's tasted what it's like to get a good night's sleep his body is no longer satisfied with whatever meagre minutes he can scrap together and he's been kind of out of it all day.
And it absolutely does not help that apparently he needs Bakugo to sleep. As in, the real person and not just something that smells like him and how fucked up is that?
He doesn't even like Bakugo. Well—he didn't, before this, but watching a movie with him had been kind of nice, no matter how fast Hitoshi had fallen asleep and Bakugo had been nice to him, too. He hadn't killed Hitoshi and he hadn't unceremoniously kicked him out and instead relinquished one of his shirts to him, which is just—nice.
Hitoshi sighs and tries to prepare himself for another sleepless night, when someone knocks on his door.
To say that he's surprised when he comes face to face with Bakugo is an understatement.
"So?" Bakugo snaps out, his hands stashed in his pockets.
"So?" Hitoshi gives back because he isn't quite sure what Bakugo wants.
"Did it help, troll doll?"
"Oh, ah—no. It didn't. Sorry. Wait," Hitoshi says, rushing back into his room to get Bakugo's shirt.
When he turns around, Bakugo is inside of his room, and the door behind him is firmly closed.
"Uhm," Hitoshi weakly says because maybe now is the time where he gets exploded.
"That movie has a second part," Bakugo says, pointedly avoiding eye contact and Hitoshi blinks.
"A second part," he repeats because he doesn't quite understand what Bakugo is getting at.
"That we should fucking watch, you idiot," Bakugo snaps out, clearly fed up with Hitoshi's slow processing and before Hitoshi really knows what's happening, they are stretched out on Hitoshi's bed, except this time, Hitoshi didn't get a chance to even pretend, because Bakugo wrangled him into place, so that Hitoshi's head is already resting on his chest.
He can already feel his eyes sliding shut.
"That's—you're really nice," Hitoshi mutters, and he's already so sleepy, he doesn't even feel ashamed of cuddling up to Bakugo, pressing his ear harder to his chest to hear his steady heartbeat better.
"You tell anyone and I'm going to kill you," Bakugo says almost friendly, which makes the threat all the more real.
"Sure," Hitoshi mumbles and goes completely boneless against him. "But like. Thank you. And sorry."
Hitoshi feels the need to say that at least because this can't be nice for Bakugo in the same way that it's nice for him because it's not as if Bakugo has any problems sleeping.
"'s helping me, too," Bakugo admits after a moment and Hitoshi forces himself to stay awake long enough to hear him out. "Nightmares make it hard, sometimes. Didn't have any with you there."
"Mh," Hitoshi hums because that's nice.
That's good for both of them.
"Sweet dreams, you sleepy idiot," Bakugo snorts out and Hitoshi wants to protest, because he's really, seriously never this sleepy but before he can form the words, he's already gone.
Joanie’s arm was covering her face as she slept, stirring awake ever so slowly. The bright sunlight spilled through the cracks in the blinds, making the room feel slightly warm. She brought her arms down to her sides as she turned her head to the side, staring at the back of her girlfriend’s head.
Her hair was short. It stopped just past her ears and was done in a hurry— resulting in a shaggy haircut that was hard to enjoy. That didn’t stop Joanie from liking it. She thought it was pretty. She thought the poorly bleached color was pretty, and she liked the look of outgrown roots revealing an almost reddish brown. Truth be told, she only liked it because it was Ponygirl’s hair. She knew the hair was considered ugly by most, but she couldn’t help but admire how the sunlight hit it.
She brought her hand up and brushed her hand across the yellowish, almost white hair. She wrapped a few strands around her finger and felt the slightly scratchy but somehow soft texture she’d grown quite acquainted with. A smile formed on her lips as she twirled her hair around her finger. Despite the bleached texture, it moved smoothly and didn’t get too tangled. Joanie chuckled to herself slightly, shifting her legs to the best of her ability to move them to a colder segment of the sheets.
She brought her hand down to Pony’s shoulder, just letting it rest there. Being with Ponygirl was enough, but she’d begun to get slightly anxious whenever there was ever any uncertainty about Pony’s whereabouts. It was a shared concern the gang had about, well, anyone in the gang. After Windrixville, they’d wound up closer than ever. Especially Pony and Joanie. She supposed any physical contact helped subdue that anxiety.
She reached her hand under Pony’s hair and scratched her scalp gently, almost as if she were scratching a cat. She knew she’d absolutely hear it once Pony woke up— something about ‘You got dirt in my hair!’ or something along those lines, but Joanie really couldn’t care about that right now. Ponygirl was used to being covered in dirt and grime anyway, in fact it was kind of gross. She’d track dirt into the house and Darla would yell at her about it, as well as everyone else in the gang.
‘Just use the damn doormat!’ She would yell about ten times a day, the thought pulling a giggle from Joanie. Of course, Joanie respected and cared for Darla just as much as anyone else. Just… not so much that doormat. Nothing a broom couldn’t fix, anyway.
Speaking of which, “Dallas I swear to God, you bring so much dirt into this house one more time, I’ll beat you with your own cane!” Darla hissed on her way out the house. Dally said something in return, but she was too quiet for Joanie to hear. Actually, Joanie wouldn’t have known Dally was even here if not for Darry yelling at her. Ponygirl shifted around, making Joanie pull her hand away from her hair. She rolled over to face Joanie, still sound asleep. How could she sleep through Darry’s yelling?
Joanie’s eyes ran over Pony’s sleeping face, how her eyebrows furrowed and her leg jerked every now and then. Bad dream, she supposed. Bad enough to stir her awake. Joanie watched Pony’s eyes flutter open, hazy and dark as she searched her surroundings until she found Joanie. She took a moment to recognize the fact it was Joanie, and not Sodapop. Joanie waited for her to say something, but she didn’t. Neither of them did. They just stared at each other.
And then Pony pulled herself closer to the older girl. She grumbled under her breath as she wrapped her arms around her torso, pushing her head against the crook of Joanie’s neck.
“Bad dream?” Joanie whispered, getting nothing but a nod in response. “New one?”
Ponygirl shook her head, “Windrixville.”
“Ah,” Joanie nodded, bringing her hand back up to Pony’s hair, carefully placing her fingers against her scalp. Her other hand found itself holding Pony’s shoulder tightly. The latter had begun to have a new recurring nightmare. Every night, it was either about her parents or about the church. It stopped mattering if there was someone next to her or not. For the better or worse… she’d also stopped waking up in the middle of the night from them. She’d been enduring them all the way through, and that couldn’t be fun.
“‘M still tired,” Pony complained, noting how Joanie began pressing soft circles against her scalp, and how it undoubtedly messed up her hair.
“Go back to sleep,” The hand on Pony’s shoulder moved to the small of her back, pulling her closer and forcing her to straighten herself out of her curled up position.
“I’ll just have another nightmare, not worth it,” and while Joanie hated how bad Pony’s dreams were, she couldn’t ignore how mellow her voice was in the morning. Her usual high-pitched defensive voice was much softer in the morning.
“You wanna get up, then?” She asked, pulling a slightly agitated sigh from the younger girl.
“Eventually, ‘m fine being here with you right now.”
Joanie nodded in return, “I think Dal’s here. Maybe I can force her to make some breakfast?”
an F1 RPF carlando friends to lovers multichapter fic by papayabrain
Masterpost
Summary: Lando’s best friend Carlos is invited to the 2022 Norris Family Holiday. Absolutely nothing crazy could happen during a week away in Croatia, right?
i.e. Lando’s family help get these two idiots together.
Rating: T
Chapters: 2/6 (work in progress)
Prompt: A fic about Carlos holidaying with Lando's family 👀 meeting his siblings, and niece! Playing sports and fishing. Just happy summer vibes.
