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#except… oh wait….. i do. and there’s ice on the streets!!! feels good feels organic
fingertipsmp3 · 2 years
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2022 heard me saying that it was a shit year but at least it didn’t try to kill me as many times as 2021 did, and was like ‘y’know what? Let’s end this bitch’ and made me sprain my knee again
#hahahahahahahahaaaaaaaa i hate it here#i don’t even know what happened this time. i was just in the bathroom existing and i guess i skidded on the laminate floor but i didn’t even#realise i’d done that until i heard the pop and felt the searing pain#and had to immediately sit on the ground and rest my head on my calves#we’re talking full just……. i got folded; essentially#it went back into place obviously but it hurts like a bitch and i am so tired#i told my mom immediately because if i don’t complain about something then it didn’t happen. & she was like ‘i think when you dislocated it#you weakened the joint’ fucking great sandra that’s fab. (my mom’s name isn’t sandra). i have a fucked up knee forever at the age of 26#does anyone want a timeline? okay so i dislocated my knee in october of 2021 by falling down in my own house and now i don’t wear slippers#anymore because i tripped over loose slippers and i still get flashbacks. that was the worst pain i’ve ever felt. i screamed the house down#anyway i put my own kneecap back into place (while screaming) which was probably my first mistake because now it is fucked#back in.. i think april? may? probably may. i wrenched it again while trying to sit on a table#it stopped hurting within the week but that was because i wore the brace and took enough codeine to cause chaos in the united states#and it’s been fine for months. until tonight apparently. which is fine and cool. it’s not like i have a dog to walk or anything#except… oh wait….. i do. and there’s ice on the streets!!! feels good feels organic#my mom has offered to walk mabel for me but it is looking like i’m going to cancel the sound bath thing my friend wanted to go to on monday#which on one level is fine because i don’t know how badly i want to pay £12 to lie down on the floor and be assaulted by sound#i can definitely do that here. maybe the experience won’t be as good with my shitty bluetooth speaker but like.. crucially; it’s free#anyway. tl;dr i am once again in pain. thank you for your time#personal#rant
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beetsandskzreads · 3 years
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silent bright summer night
bang chan x gn!reader, y/n works with skz and became their friend (the ultimate dream haha)
genre: tooth-rotening fluff, slight angst with a happy ending
notes/warnings: nothing intense, this is very fluffy, there's brief mentions of cheating, long distance, y/n's exes, fear of abandonment, slight insecurities, deep talks, reader and chan are slightly wine drunk, y/n and chan are whipped, y/n makes it explicit they want to date someone very warm and caring (aka chan), i don't think that's a warning tho djsjs just saying
scenario: on a balcony, at a beach apartment on a summer night of vacation, y/n opens up to chan about their past and current lovers. what y/n doesn't know is why chan is so interested listening to it.
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It was 1:01 am when chan and I found ourselves in the balcony that overlooked the city and it's bright lights on a summer night. Skz had gone to sleep right after all of us came back from a night out of lots of fun, buying stuff on stores by the beach, having ice cream, seeing the view of the city lights reflecting on the sea water, appreciating street artists...
The two of us had been talking the whole evening, we hung out as a group but mostly just spoke to each other and laughed at the members jokes, both of us having a sparkle in our eye every time we saw the group happy. There was this unspoken pleasantness, a bliss, calmness in the air but with a lot of excitement. Chan was so happy to be around the sea with "the kids" as he refers to them and being at the beach almost 24/7 this week, it was like his natural habitat, his home, a comfort place. It left you feeling even softer for him, and as you shared your love for the sea, your feelings were at a peak. You liked Chan, and you loved this place as much as he did.
The night was so great, everyone was out like a lightweight as soon as we arrived to the vacation apartment we're in. Chan and I were testing the theory that a glass of wine would help us get drowsy and help us fall asleep as well, since we both have trouble falling asleep and felt nothing but a remaining excitement from the night out. It came to me especially because of the enthusiasm of talking to him, we were connecting so well, I didn't want this to ever end.
And so we drank (one glass quickly becoming the whole bottle) and we talked for what felt like hours on end, that neither of us wanted to cease.
- My ex best friend, she never quite knew how to choose guys, she always went for the ones that would never turn her way, the ones who obviously wouldn't care about her, not because of her, but because they were really careless guys, walking red flags. - I told him, I couldn't remember where exactly the conversation started but we were talking about nice people picking shitty people to date.
- What about you? - he asked
- Me? I barely even like guys, I mean I do, but I'm really picky actually, I don't allow myself to fall for cold people, I wouldn't forgive myself if I took interest in someone rude, I try so hard to take care of myself so I either stay alone that way or I find someone who makes me feel better, who knows how to take care of me, after all we chase happiness, I think a caring person could do that, someone gentle who isn't scared of emotions or who at least is open to face that fear with me by their side.
- I get it, it's hard to get by if you don't have emotional support, a partner should be able to provide that support, yeah. Did you ever... find someone like that?
- Yeah, in the past I did and even now I do know someone more than ideal... I guess my ex partners when I was young were going through a soft phase tho... I guess everyone has an emotional limit they were scared to cross... once I found that barrier the relationship stoped evolving, reached a dead end and so there was nothing left for me anymore and I left, plus, you know, cheating, long distance, a bunch of stuff really... it wasn't meant to be and I'm okay with that.
- What about that someone right now?
Silence ruled for about 3 seconds before I knew what to say. That someone right now is him. Ever since I've known him feels like he's the only man ever, but I don't think I'd tell him that, not soon anyways.
- What about 'em?
- What's that person like? What makes you trust they're any different from your exes?
- Sometimes I fear they're not, but I set the bar really high and I reset it constantly, to make sure I'm seeing it right, sometimes they seem so perfect to me that I wonder what good have i done in my past life to deserve to be around such a bright person. Of course they make mistakes too, but even the way they deal with them is so... mature, it's so easy to just solve things communicating, it's insane to me. Then I remember it's probably because they're eventually gonna leave me too, or just not reciprocate my feelings and after they break my heart I'll probably loose all hope in love, be heart broken for two years until I decide I'm gonna focus on myself again... it's a cycle after heartbreak, but with this person I'm really scared, because they mean more. I'm way too deep in before I've even expressed my feelings, it's gonna be devastating. - I'm rambling, the wine made me do it.
- What makes you think they wouldn't like you back tho?
- I'm not sure I just... it would be too good to be true and it's complicated... he's amazing and I'm just not sure if he'd be into me, I mean, I think I'm lovable and I think I'd be a great lover, I just don't know if I'm his type or if he'd consider me. We have a bit of an age gap, I'm not someone who's typically pretty or specially good looking, I have my charms but I have no idea if that's enough for him to be in love. It's complicated with each others work too... - I notice chan's gaze on me, he has his head leaned on his hand on the table and he's looking at me with bright eyes, eyes that look tired and a little drunk but somehow, he manages to look at me in a way that makes me feel adored, I don't know why you have to make me feel so much love, Bang Chan - Why are you looking at me like that?
- You have no idea how other people perceive you, do you? - he ignored your question, probably because of his drunk-ish drowsy state - Everyone I know likes you, see, you're a naturally kind and caring person, you're attentive to people's needs, you make sure everyone feels comfortable around you... that's so appreciated by everyone. I think you're exceptional y/n, you have this charismatic way of existing, a refreshing and comfy presence everyone can feel, but to me... it feels like home. You feel like home y/n. So... I have no idea who that person is but I sure as hell know they'd be more than lucky to have you as a partner and they're definitely dumb if they let you go.
- Are you dumb? - my heart's pounding quicker as I'm about to do something I didn't plan on doing ever.
- Huh? No, why w-
- Because that person is you... I like you, Chan. In a more-than-friends way - I interrupt him quickly before I lose my newly found courage.
Chan could've sworn his heart stopped for a few seconds. Suddenly sobriety hit him like a truck. It was the alcohol that made you say that, he thought, but he wished it was true and you didn't drink enough to be lying about this kind of stuff, you had a full on conversation and you seemed pretty sober.
- Y-y/n are you sober? - he tries to navigate through the situation.
- Oh my... yeah I am, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything, it just rolled out of my tongue. I'm sorry... - you said as you panicked and tried to go back inside, regret filling up all your organs.
"I messed up" your brain keeps repeating as desperation starts entering your body, until Chan grabbed your hand, stopping you from leaving.
- Wait! You don't need to apologize, I'm glad you told me... You didn't think I'd say all that about you if I didn't like you as well, did you? - he asks suggestively.
- I don't know - you blush as you realize what he's getting at - You're just so nice to everyone, I didn't make a big deal out of it.
- Well, you should've made it a big deal, the biggest deal actually because I've been trying really hard to show you how I feel these past few days and you were so clueless I thought you were purposefully ignoring the signs because you didn't like me back.
- I'm sorry Channie, I just didn't want to assume stuff and get heartbroken if it wasn't true.
-Well it is true, so you don't need to worry anymore. I really like you too, y/n. And I've wanted to say it for a while too, I was just wondering if it was a good idea since you work with us, but I can't contain my feelings anyways... you always treat me so softly and you look after the kids really well... It just feels like you were made to be by my side, you're the embodiment of the person I've always dreamed to be with, and these past few days with the kids and you... it just felt like we were the perfect family you know? I don't think I could be without you by my side anymore... - he stops, he's been staring at your eyes the whole time and now they're starting to water.
How could you not cry when he's saying the things you thought you'd only ever hear in dreams?
- Why are you crying sweetheart? - he whispered, as he wipes a tear with his thumb, the other hand holding your hand as he stands closer every second.
- It's just... I'm so... happy - you smile through your tears - I'm so happy to hear that, you said it in such a beautiful way too... I feel exactly the same, it's like I've gained a family with you guys but you... I've grown really attached to you, feels like some parts of you are tangled in my heart in ways I couldn't tear apart if I wanted to... I'm drawn to you and when I'm with you it's comfortable, blissful, it's right. You're so good to me, it's unbelievable, but it's true, and it warms my heart. - you say as your foreheads touch and your smile grows, his eyes showing so much adoration for you, you could melt.
Suddenly you share your first kiss together, a soft yet passionate mix of sensations, and it felt like everything you ever felt around Chan but better.
You stare into each other's eyes, smiling like the little lovely goofballs you both were, noses touching, ocasional little pecks filled with giggles because you were whipped for each other.
- So this means we're exclusive lovers now, yeah? - he asks with a blushing face, a very silent giggle and a huge, uncontrollable smile.
- Definitely, yeah - you answer biting your lip until eventually you let out the largest smile you ever had.
Needless to say, you didn't leave that balcony to go to sleep that evening. In fact, you two watched the sunrise kissing and cuddling, talking about the feelings you had for each other, when they started, why you liked each other, covered by a blanket, not wanting to let go of each other now that you were openly romantic.
Han found you both sound asleep, you on chan's lap, head on his neck as his arms wrapped around you gently, on a chair in the middle of the morning. He obviously called all the members to watch you two as they assumed you two finally got together. All of them saw it coming, Chan wouldn't shut up about you and had written what could be an entire album about you.
They were happy at least you'd be around more often to cook your delicious food. And you both blushed really hard once you woke up to lot's of teasing from the kids, it was fine tho, you liked it just like this, it was home.
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Bath Bomb
Pairing: Bakugou x reader
Warnings: Bakugou
⋘ ──────── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──────── ⋙
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"Come on, girls! Let's go here next!"
You giggled with your friends as you hurried to keep close with one another in the crowded street. Today was one of your bi-annual girls' day out with all your gal pals from the former class A.
It so happened that this outing was planned and organized by Yaomomo, and she had decided to take you all on a shopping trip to Harajuku. Everyone was already laden with bags, some even assisted by Ochaco in lightening the heavier ones.
The store Momo had pointed to was a quaint LUSH store, where pink neon lights glowed in the windows.
All seven of you eagerly crowded into the store, breaking off into smaller groups to wander around. You ended up with Toru and Mina, wandering over to one of the walls packed nearly floor to ceiling with colorful bath bombs.
"Look at them all," Toru breathed, carefully bringing one up to her invisible nose for a sniff.
You walked around with them, occasionally pointing out a particularly cutely shaped or colorful one.
Suddenly, you felt a hand alight on your arm. "(Y/N)!" Mina said, barely stifling a giggle. "Look at that one!"
Your eyes followed the direction her finger pointed, finally landing on an egg-shaped turquoise bath bomb. Except, it wasn't meant to be an egg. This was unmistakably a grenade.
"Oh, I get it," you said. "Bath bomb, and it's a grenade. That is pretty funny."
"Well, yeah, but what I meant was—" Mina paused to grin and wiggle her eyebrows at you. "I think you might be able to enjoy that with a certain explosive someone, perhaps?"
Heat flooded into your cheeks as you realized she was talking about your fiancé, Bakugou Katsuki. Now that she mentioned it, it did remind you of him. The mold it had come from was similar to the very real explosives he kept on his hero belt.
"You should totally get it!" she went on, practically bouncing on her toes.
You picked one up, feeling its shape and weight. It was easily the size of your palm, and you finally let your hand take it up to your nose for a quick sniff. Lavender and rosemary greeted your senses. It was a very pleasant mix and you held it up so Mina could get a whiff of her own.
"Mmm," she said, briefly fluttering her eyelids closed. "Yep. You're getting that."
She pulled you with her so you could grab a tray together, gently placing it in the little holder. Everyone browsed for another twenty minutes or so before finally checking out. You had decided on an additional bath bomb for yourself along with something called a bubble bar, but you were truly the most excited about the distinct blue-green grenade that innocently rested at the bottom of your bag. As your group left the store, you couldn't wait for a chance to try out what you'd bought. It would be a nice way to surprise Katsuki when he got home. Additionally, it provided an excuse to relax together and spend time in each other's presence.
You had to snap yourself out of a quick daydream you'd begun to sink into in order to answer Jirou, silently grinning to yourself in anticipation for what was to come.
. . . . . . . .
Not three days later, you finally found your chance.
You got home earlier than he did, which was normal. As you began your routine of amusing yourself while you waited for Katsuki to come home, you felt a buzz emanating from your pocket. It turned out to be a call from none other than your fiancé himself, Bakugou.
"Hey, babe, what's up?" you said into the phone, uncertain as to why he was calling.
"Just wanted to let you know I'm coming home early," his gruff voice came through. "Do you want anything for dinner? I know it's been awhile since we've had that takeout you like."
Your eyes lit up. "You'd do that?"
Katsuki grumbled on his end of the phone, however you could hear that there was no malice behind it. "Yes. I don't understand why you like it so much, especially because of how bad for you it is and when my cooking is so much better, but I'll get it. For you."
"Thank you so much!"
"Whatever."
Thus went most of your conversations with the blond. You were used to it by now, so you merely smiled. "I love you."
Katsuki's voice abruptly changed to tender. "I love you too."
Your smile only brightened as the end-call tone sounded in your ear. You loved everything about Katsuki, even his overly boorish nature. It only made the moments he let it slip all the sweeter. You knew you were the only one who got to witness that softer side to him, and it made your heart swell every time.
You flopped back into position on your couch, mind beginning to wander through possibilities of what you could do during your evening with Bakugou. You quickly remembered the little bath bomb you had shoved into the back of the bathroom cabinet. That would be perfect! You decided to wait until after dinner and then surprise him with the little plan that was already beginning to take form within your mind.
The lock on your door clicked a few minutes later, alerting you that Bakugou had come home. You rose to greet him, strolling into the kitchen to see him setting a bag down on the counter.
You walked up to his side and pecked him on the cheek. "Welcome home, babe."
Katsuki's vermilion eyes met yours as you leaned into him, draping an arm around his waist. "Hey."
"How was work?"
"Not bad," he answered, reaching up into a cabinet and pulling out two glasses, handing one to you.
You grabbed the bag and went to your little table, going back into the kitchen to fill your cup with ice and water once Katsuki was done. The two of you settled at the table, taking out the boxes of food he'd bought for you.
"So why did they let you off early?" you inquired, plunging your chopsticks into a personal container of noodles.
"Dumbass advisor told me to go home," he answered. "Villain hit me with their quirk or something and I got a little dinged up."
"Are you alright?" you asked, suddenly concerned.
"Of course. They just told me to stay in and rest. Pathetic, thinking I'm weak or some shit."
"'Tsuki, you know he just cares about you."
Bakugou made his classic tch noise, scowling back down into his mixed vegetables. "The only reason I agreed to leave was so that I could spend more time with you."
You looked back to him, hoping to catch those ruby eyes of his. He refused to offer them, however, and you eventually gave up, going back to your food.
"I know you don't see me as often as you'd like to," he continued, his voice little more than a mutter. "It's been a while since we've been able to spend a day together, let alone plan our—our wedding."
It was true. Even today, for Katsuki, he'd gotten home early, but you weren't blind to the fact that it was already half past seven. Some nights you'd be up until nearly two AM, waiting for his footsteps to come in through your door. You never ceased to stay awake for him, however, filling some of your free time with planning for your wedding ceremony. Bakugou was letting you handle most of it, although it wasn't as though he had much choice. That didn't stop you from trying to include him any way you could; occasionally talking over what you'd thought of and decided on that day while the two of you lay in bed together. Sometimes lying alone with one another in cool darkness were the only moments you could share, quietly conversing until one of you fell victim to the sleep that had been pressing at the backs of both of your eyes for the last few hours.
You had to hope that one day it would get better. Someday, he may be able to catch more breaks. Maybe someday, society would be fixed so that crime would dwindle to nearly nothing. But that someday was far, far away, if it even would ever come at all. All you could do was be thankful that Katsuki loved his job and rarely got injured. It brought in good money too, with his position so high at the top. The only thing that mattered was that he somehow walked in through that door at the end of each day, no matter what time it was or how long the two of you had gone without sleep. No matter what, you'd always be there, waiting for him.
Your hand snaked its way across the table to settle on top of Katsuki's, finally getting him to look up at you. "It's okay," you assured him. "You're here now. I couldn't be happier."
You both sat, looking at each other in a silent moment, his palm having turned to take yours, thumb gently stroking the outside of your hand.
Flicking your eyes down, you let a small smile creep onto your lips. "I actually have a little surprise for you," you said. "It's for after dinner."
Bakugou breathed out a little laugh in a singular huff, going back to consuming your "shitty takeout" food. "Do you, now?"
"Uh huh."
You could tell he was curious. Bakugou wasn't really one who was much for surprises, but he trusted you.
It wasn't too much longer before you finished your meal, taking the cardboard containers and stuffing them back into the bag they had come from. Bakugou put the glasses on the counter next to the sink while you tied up the trash bag and tossed it out, double checking that the table was clear and clean.
"Ready?" you asked, running your hand down his forearm until it met his own, intertwining your fingers.
"Sure."
"Let's get started, then."
You led him to the bathroom, letting go of his hand so you could turn on the tap for your bathtub. It was just the right size for the two of you to comfortably sit together in, and this was hardly your first time doing so.
"You wanted me to take a bath?" Katsuki asked, watching you adjust the temperature.
"Well, yes, but—" you turned and strode over to the cabinet, rummaging around for the object of interest. You pulled out the bag, reaching in to show off the little grenade. "Ta-da!"
Bakugou looked at it, slightly unimpressed. "What is it?"
"It's a bath bomb," you explained. "I saw it the other day when I was out shopping with the girls and it reminded me of you." You watched his expression, but it hadn't really changed. "So are you interested?"
Katsuki finally let the smallest of smiles grace his lips. "Sure. I was planning on showering here anyway. A bath will do."
"Am I invited?" you asked, just to make sure.
"Of course you are, dumbass," he said, looking nearly offended that you might have thought otherwise.
"Well, then. Let's get to it."
The two of you started stripping off your clothes, discarding them on the floor. When you glanced up at Bakugou, you noticed a little red mark on his shoulder, disappearing over the peak and presumably continuing on his back. You stepped closer, walking around behind him, ignoring a half-hearted protest from the man who was sporting it. A large, red blotchy welt bloomed on the skin of his back, and when you touched it as gently as possible with your fingertips, you found that it was nearly burning.
"Katsuki, baby," you crooned concernedly, unable to take your eyes off it.
"That was the best the healing guy could do," he explained, his voice quieter than usual. "It was worse before, but that's why I got sent home."
"Does it hurt?"
"Not really."
You clicked your tongue, still figuring it probably did hurt more than he would ever let on. You gently kissed a patch of unmarked skin next to it, just to be safe.
Knowing how much Bakugou hated it when you fussed over any injuries he got, you finally left to grab the bath bomb. You traded it for your engagement ring, sliding off the gold band and picking up the green grenade from where you had set it on the counter. The faucet handle of the tub was cool in your hand as you turned the water off, having moved back over to its edge. You shifted your appendage to flick your fingers in the water to check the temperature. It was just right; not too hot, not too cold.
"Come here," you beckoned Katsuki to your side. "Watch this."
You dropped the bath grenade into the water, both of you watching as it began to fizz at the bottom. The water began to take on a cartoonish lagoon-blue tint, and the smell of rosemary and lavender began to sweetly float into the air.
"Now come on," you said, stepping into the tub. Katsuki followed in after you, and you let him sit down and adjust before sliding into his lap. You leaned against his shoulder as his arms wrapped around you. You scanned his face, searching for any signs of discomfort. You found that sometimes it was the best way to tell what he was feeling, rather than asking.
Nevertheless, his eyes were gently shut, jaw relaxed. An eyelid slid open to peer at you, a tiny sliver of red just scarcely able to be seen.
"Whatcha lookin' at?" he asked, tone conversational.
"You."
"Feh."
"'Feh'," you mocked. "The great Bakugou Katsuki, 20—"
"Stop," he interrupted, sending a splash of scented unnaturally blue water over your shoulder. You giggled, nuzzling closer into his chest in your giddiness. A deep inhale and exhale went through your man's lungs, and you followed the idea soon after. The lavender really did do something to your brain, almost magically quieting your thoughts as you felt calm steal over your body.
You'd missed this, just being able to spend time with the love of your life, relaxing together. The water you both were encased in was so soothingly warm, reaching you where Katsuki's hold could not.
"So how did your day go?" you asked, keeping your eyes shut as you snuggled into him. "Tell me all about the villains you vanquished."
You could practically hear Katsuki grin above you, and without hesitation he launched into an anecdote about a man he'd apprehended early that morning. You knew how much he loved talking about his great feats of heroism. It seemed to be a bit of an ego booster for him, watching your face as you reacted to his account of his day.
You felt him shift slightly, not ceasing in his talk. The sound of a shampoo bottle popping open met your ears, and soon after, Bakugou's fingers were lacing through your damp hair, spreading the cleansing scent throughout your scalp.
You hummed and leaned into his touch, enjoying the added sensation while he finished up his speech.
"—shoulda seen the look on the little shit's face when he realized there was nothing he could do. I had him, just like that. Damn extra, didn't even have that much paperwork to file on him."
"Mmm," you hummed in acknowledgement. "Oh, baby, that feels so good."
Bakugou continued rubbing circles into your scalp, lather and foam coating his hands. You loved his hands. They were so large and strong; the source of his power, the source of his pride.
Finally he swirled your hair up and out of the way into a makeshift twist-bun, held together sheerly by the sticky shampoo lather. He took a bar of your favorite soap and began to run it over the skin of your back and shoulders, applying a delicious amount of pressure to muscles you hadn't even known were tensed. Satisfied with the slippery coating, Katsuki went back to using those hands of his, rolling the heels perfectly into you, alternating between palms and knuckles.
"'Tsuki," you said, voice hazy from how good it felt, "this was supposed to be for you."
"Yes, and?"
You pouted, eyes still lidded. "You're supposed to be relaxing."
"This is how I relax."
"Yeah, but—"
"Did I fucking stutter?"
You snorted, letting him continue his business in massaging your back. "Okay, but you're next."
"You wish."
"Did I fucking stutter?" you countered, using his own words against him. "You can't escape me. You're going to feel good by the time we get out of here, and that's a rock fact."
Even Katsuki had to have known his grumbles sounded fake. It was rare for him to show it, but you knew that every now and then he reveled in having you take care of him. Whether it be working out knots in his muscles or rubbing cream into his burns, there was a secret side to him that would allow you to tend to him. His brash persona had to be let down sometime, and every day you felt honored that you were among the few people who he trusted enough to see him without it.
Katsuki finally began to pour water over your back, the warmth trickling down and bringing the soap right with it. He leaned you back so your hair was submerged and your head was in his lap. His fingers began to wind through your tresses again, shaking the shampoo bubbles into the water around you. Without fail, Bakugou always insisted that you were completely taken care of before he ever allowed anything to be done to himself. There was nothing you could do to protest, that's just the way it was. Firm but gentle fingertip pads were pressed into your shoulders, signaling for you to sit up.
He began the process over again with your conditioner, squirting some on his hand before running it through the strands of hair that fell from your head.
"Have the energy to talk about our wedding?" you asked, eyes flicking up to the counter where your sparkling ring sat waiting.
"Sure."
You ran over a few thoughts you'd gotten to recently. You already had a pretty solid guest list, a venue in mind, arrangements for flowers, the cake, dresses, and even the suit Bakugou had picked out. Now was the more practical stuff; scheduling and seating, sketching out designs for the invitations.
You relayed over the conversation you'd had with Momo earlier yesterday. You were so thankful to have her as a friend, helping you plan. It was almost as if she knew what she was doing, at least, more than you did. She was good with decision making and had your best interests at heart.
Bakugou listened while he continued to thread his fingers through your hair, occasionally commenting or making little noises of acknowledgment while you spoke. It wasn't long before he tapped your shoulder, ready to dip you again.
The water that flooded your ears distorted your voice as you continued talking. You wished you had your laptop in front of you so you could show him your detailed spreadsheet.
You finally sat up, him having finished rinsing once again. You paused in your conversation to say, "Now it's your turn."
He turned, trying to find a moderately comfortable means to lean back so you could reach the top of his head. You cupped water in your hands and used it to wet his ash blond hair. Satisfied at its newly damp state, you pulled down his shampoo. Which also happened to be his conditioner.
You'd always grumbled at him for being tacky and using it, but his argument was that he didn't need anything more. It was cheap and quick and he refused to budge from his stance on it. At least you'd gotten him to start picking up scents you liked. This one was coconut. You glanced at the upside down bottle in your hand as you squeezed some out, silently cringing at the 3-in-1 proudly printed on the sticker. What bothered you was probably the sheer difference in male vs female advertised products. You wouldn't be surprised if they came out with something that he could brush his teeth with too.
You spread it over his spikes, each point becoming droopy under the weight of the water that had soaked into them. You couldn't help but notice how Bakugou leaned into your touch. Your voice began to trail off as you focused on his hair. It didn't take long to spread the shampoo through his short blond hair, working it into his roots. Next you moved down to his neck, trying to keep your fingers away from any reddened areas. Your hands skillfully moved over his back, much like his had done to yours a few moments prior. His skin was soon covered in a fine layer of suds, deliciously scented as you finally began to rinse both it and his hair with the now scarcely lukewarm water.
"You feel any better, Katsuki?" you asked, leaning forward to rest your chin on his shoulder.
"From what?" he shot back, annoyed that you'd suggest he was ever anything less than 'fine'.
"I don't know," you said, keeping your tone soft. "You still haven't told me how you got this today." You gingerly tapped a patch of skin on his back, still flushed but now glistening with moisture.
He abruptly stood, water running in rivulets down his legs as he stepped out of your bath. Bakugou wordlessly grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist, exiting the bathroom with nothing more than it and heavy footsteps.
You sighed and chewed on your lip, collecting yourself before pulling the plug from the drain. Your fingers slid through the receding water, eventually locating the fizzing remains of your grenade and setting it on the ledge. You lifted yourself out and grabbed a towel, sliding your ring back onto your finger before finally leaving the warm, steamy bathroom to find Katsuki.
It wasn't difficult to locate the blond, finding him in the first place you checked; your bedroom. He laid on his back, palms supporting his head while his elbows stretched out on either side. He wore only a pair of loose-fitting orange and black gym shorts, slung low on his hips as he gazed up at the ceiling.
You decided it would be best to not force him to talk, opting to begin work on patting your hair dry with your towel before slipping on one of Katsuki's large, old t-shirts and some cotton panties. The bed dipped under your weight as you sat at the edge, silently beginning to finger comb your damp hair. You listened to nothing but your own heartbeat steadily thumping in your chest, concern for your fiancé clouding your thoughts.
Before you could turn around to ask him what was wrong, Bakugou finally spoke. "Why did you agree to marry me?"
The question caught you so completely off guard, a scoff escaped your throat. "Because I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Why are you asking me that?"
Katsuki's frown deepened. "It's just that . . . sometimes I wonder if you don't deserve this. I never see you. When I do, I'm not the . . . nicest person. You could—you would probably be better off with someone different."
You rubbed your hand soothingly over his toned belly. "Was today not a good day?"
Bakugou chewed on the inside of his cheek. You recognized the blank look in his eyes, signaling that he was trying to distance himself from his emotions. "He got away."
"Who?" you asked quietly, shifting so you could comfortably run your hands over him. The action was meant to try to calm him and ease him from behind his figurative walls.
"The villain who—who hurt me. I didn't catch him and it's all my fault. I lost. I'm a failure."
You frowned at his words. This must have really affected him if he was willing to break down so much in front of you. Bakugou had always had the mindset that he always had to win. That was how he decided he would be the greatest hero. A blow like this had to hurt.
You laid down and pulled yourself against his side, ducking under his arm so he had no choice but to hold you to his warm chest. You placed a kiss over one of his pecs, your gentle fingers never ceasing in their soothing up and down motions over his abs.
"You're far from a failure, Katsuki," you said softly in his ear. "Things like this happen."
"Not to me," he grumbled, turning his head away from you.
"You'll catch him next time, I'm sure of it."
Bakugou huffed beside you. "I should be out there, hunting him down," he finally said.
"Not in this condition," you stated firmly, tapping a finger against his skin.
You could see Bakugou's lip curl over his teeth. "It's not like I can't fight. I barely even hurt anymore. I can—"
"I wasn't talking about your wound."
He turned his head, finally looking at you. Confusion and suspicion swam in his vermilion eyes, but you used the opportunity to place your hand on his cheek.
"You're down on yourself," you said. "You need some time off. You're working so much and so hard, which is a good thing, but I think you need some time away."
Bakugou rested his hand over yours, gazing into your eyes. "I can't just let him go," he stated simply. "I can't afford to take time off."
"I know," you sighed. "But just for tonight? For me? You deserve it."
Your fiancé sighed. There wasn't anything he wanted more then than to hold you in his arms and forget for a few moments. Forget about his demanding job and getting a whole new hero agency kicked off the ground. Forget about his sworn responsibilities to the world. Forget about that damned bastard who got away.
A grumble sounded deep within Bakugou's chest, signaling to you that he had caved. You let him tug you forward and pull you into a kiss, attacking your lips in that perfectly rough but sweet way that you craved and loved.
Once he was temporarily satisfied, he cradled you against his bare chest for several minutes, refusing to move until all the stress had slowly trickled out of his muscles. You nuzzled into his bare skin, which still smelled so deliciously fresh after having gotten out of your bath.
"I love you," Bakugou finally said. "You know that, right?"
"Of course." Your voice came out a bit muffled, but you had little interest in adjusting from your position.
"I do want to get married," he went on. "To you. Maybe start a family . . . . It wouldn't be so bad, having a little fuckin' monster running around."
Your heart leapt at the idea of having a baby with the pro hero. It was something you'd thought about quite a bit, actually. "And is this child's 'fuckin' monster' qualities from you or from me?"
"You, obviously."
You laughed at Katsuki's joke, glad that he was beginning to feel better. When you looked back into his face, you were pleased to find that even he was smiling just a little bit.
You kissed his skin again as a way to segway to another topic. "So what do you want to do for the rest of your evening off?"
"Maybe we could watch something." He shrugged. "I don't care as long as I'm holding you."
His wish was an easy one to have come true. Within minutes you were relocated to the couch, snuggled up under a blanket together with a bowl of popcorn, watching something you both had been able to agree upon.
Your relationship with Katsuki wasn't an easy one, but there was no one else in the whole world you'd rather spend a lifetime with.
⋘ ──────── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──────── ⋙
Taglist: @basicaegyo​ @iiminibattlehero​ @pyrofanatic​​ @xoxopam4​
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dancingthesambaa · 3 years
Text
The Smell of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 13
Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black furred monkey put out a hand towards him.
Rating: Teen and up
Chapter 13: The Apocalypse (But with More Bulls)
A group of children huddled together as they tried to escape the robotic drones that surrounded them in the ice cream shop. The streets were no longer safe as they had been filled with roaming Bull drones and they ripped and tore no matter what or who stood in their way. They hoped that they would be able to wait it out until help arrived, but they didn’t count on the drones coming into the building and finding them.
“AHHHHH!” They all screamed as the bulls began to leap at them.
SMASH! BASH! CRASH!
Their eyes widened as they saw the machines falling to the ground in bits and pieces until there was nothing left except for an ominous violet figure before them.
“S-s-stay away!” One of the older children nervously warned as she stood in front of them with her arms stretched out.
“Dude, he-she-they just saved our butts,” another child put a hand on her shoulder, “I think they are one of the good guys.”
“We don’t know that!” She argued.
“I mean, they are standing right there and haven’t attacked us yet sooo,” a younger girl pointed out. “Point in the good guy direction.”
“That doesn’t mean-”
“Wait, I know him!” They all snapped their heads to the youngest in their group as he ran up to the figure.
“Bao!”
“Wait!”
“Are you crazy?!”
“MAC MAC!” He grinned as he threw his body to him, “I am so happy you are here!”
The monkey said nothing as he caught the child and gently patted the child's head.
“Sooo, Imma go out on a limb here and say he's good,” said the girl with the prosthetic arm. She happily smirked at their groans.
“Oh yeah, he is my sister's former teacher, though I don’t think I've ever seen you like this,” he pondered.
“Clone,” the demon uttered.
“Clone?”
“Follow me,” he instead said as he walked to the door, “I’ll take you where it’s safe.”
“Really?”
“Awesome!”
“That’s a relief.”
“Can I bring some ice cream?”
The children all chatter with a bit more pep in their step as they trudge through the war torn streets and fallen buildings until they laid eyes on a set of buildings that looked relatively untouched by the madness surrounding them with a pristine white hospital building in the middle of it all. Some people were littered around the street, but when they stepped into the hospital it was a lot more hectic as not only doctors and nurses were bustling around trying to tend to as many wounded as they could. But there were also regular people trying to give a helping hand as they either did basic first aid to those who needed it or helped the staff collect the supplies they needed.
“Whoa,” they all collectively gape at the semi organized chaos inside.
“Bao!” The child looks to see Bohai's relieved expression, “thank the gods you and your friends are okay.”
“Mac Mac saved us,” he wiggled out of the monkey arms to get a hug from the jellyfish demon then he looked around the room. “Where’s Yanyu? Is she okay?”
“She’s fine, she was working when this all went down, so she is currently in the back taking care of a bunch of patients. Are you all alright?”
“Just scrapes and bruises,” one of the girls says as she covers the mouth of the one armed girl. “You are not making another missing arm joke, you hear me.”
“Fine,” she huffed then she grinned mischievously as she looked at Bohai, “so do you guys need a hand, I can only spare you one though.”
“For the love of-!”
“Stoppp!”
“Nooo!”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” she laughed at the agony.
“If you want to bring the staff some snacks and drinks, and yes I’m including everyone in this list, that would be awesome. They really need to pick me up right now,” he showed them to a small area where copious amounts of food and drinks were laid out. “People have been bribing them since this all started, but no one really had a break yet.”
“You can count on us!” The oldest girl saluted as she and the rest gathered snacks in their arms and began to spread out all through the hospital, except for Bao who was still holding onto the jellyfish. Even the clone Macaque had left had begun to venture through the hospital and began to help out a few patients.
“…is everyone else alright,” he whispered out in hesitation.
Bohai kneeled down and smiled, “I think they will be just fine, your brothers and sisters are smart after all. I know they will pull through.”
“Right,” he nodded and shared a grin.
“And we have people and demons looking for anyone who needs help,” that included his friends on the list as Daiyu took to the skies and over the seas, Minsheng and Ahmed took to the streets looking for stragglers, and Macaque leaping from building to building checking to see if there are any lingering people trapped inside. “So don’t worry about them, instead how about we focus on feeding some hungry people. I know how cranky they can get when their bellies are empty.”
“Like Yan Yan when she forgot to eat because she had a 30 hour shift and she tied us all up when we mentioned her leftover food in the fridge.”
“Exactly.”
“How does this keep happening to us!” Mei yelled out as she and MK were hanging onto the sword for dear life as they dangled above the pit of despair.
“I don’t know!” MK yelled too as he clung onto Mei’s legs. “How do we get down?!”
“I don’t know!” She adjusted her grip on the sword, “we are currently on our way to fight the Demon Bull King, one of Monkey King greatest enemies, with less than 2 weapons on us if you don’t count my daggers and your brass knuckles, the rest of our team still keeping the ones up top busy and-wait!” Mei’s eyes brighten, “not everyone!”
“Huh? Who?!”
“Macaque!” Mei could feel a breath of relief come through her, “he’s still in the city dealing with the other clones, but I think this warrants a higher attention.” If anyone, other than the Monkey King and MK, can stop the Bull King, it’s him.
“I don’t know,” MK flinched as Mei's head creaked to him and her eyes began to twitch.
“Oh no, we are so not doing this, I am calling fuzzbutt whether you like it or not,” she stated and she sucked in a deep breath.
“Wait,” he quickly climbed her and put his hands over her mouth, “we don’t need to call him, I can handle this.”
“Do you not see where we are?” She would emphasize their precarious situation, but she is currently holding onto the only thing that is stopping the both of them from becoming mush on the floor. “What is your problem with calling him for help?”
“Nothing,” he too quickly defended himself.
“Then you should have no problem if I call him.”
“You're not calling for him.”
I’m calling him.”
“No, you're not,” he argued.
“I am!”
“You're not!”
“Am!”
“Not!”
“Am!”
“Not!”
“Am!”
“Not!”
“Not!”
“Am! Wait-dammit!” He cursed as he got tricked.
“Ha! I win, and I'm calling him!” Mei grinned.
MK was about to refute her when he saw a terrifying sight above them. “Noooo.”
She raised her eyebrow as she turned to see what he was looking at and she almost let go of her sword as she saw hundreds of deactivated Bull drones stationary all over the walls and mere meters from where they were at.
“Shit.”
BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ
Mei’s phone buzzed quite loudly.
“Shit.”
Blue eyes lit up one by one as the drones quickly woke up at the sound as their heads all snapped towards the two lone humans.
“SHIT!”
“GHA!” Red son grunted out as he was flung back. He gritted his teeth as the sharp rocks pierced him, but he shakily stood up as he stood behind his mother, who was also silently huffing for air as the two of them faced down the enraged Bull King. He knew something was wrong, there had to be something, otherwise, his father wouldn't so carelessly nor even attempt to accuse the two of them of traitorous intent based on the barest of threads.
‘There has to be,’ he desperately thought as he silently looked at his hands and gripped it as it began to heat up. ‘But there is no defining evidence…I should have never taken that key.’ He regretted silently as they were once more prepared to go toe to toe with the Bull King when out of nowhere.
“AHHHHHHHH!” BOOM
MK lands face first into the ground.
“Noodle boy?!” What is he doing here?!
“Little thief,” Bull King hissed out as he then gripped his head and uttered. “Sun Wukong.”
Both he and his mother were startled by that admission as they couldn’t help but share a glance, as they passively watched Bull King begin his assault on the Monkey King successor.
Red son gritted his teeth as he watched his friend get pulverized by his father. ‘I have to do something, but what can I do? Something nefarious is afoot with father and yet I am standing here like a dame instead of helping MK. MK? No! No, I mean I have to help father snap out of whatever has come over him instead of beating upon my fri-noodle boy! Hurting noodle boy…he is hurting noodle boy…MK.” He snapped out of his thoughts when he saw the horrifying sight of the rage filled demon looming over MK with his fists raised high in the air.
“NO!” He burst into flames and charged forward, but was stopped by his mother as she swiftly sent out two airstrikes to the Bull King and used her fan to sweep the boy away from his demise and plopped him down next to the both of them.
“Wha-” he groggily got up as he looked up in surprise at Princess Iron Fan.
“It’s the canister, they have driven him mad with power,” she said as she hatefully eyed the glowing blue canisters upon the Bull King back.
“Well that’s a problem,” he blinked as he saw the skeletal remains floating about in the sludge of energy.
Then in a feral-like fury where only instinct took full control of body rather than the mind, the Bull King had snarled at them and began to charge on all fours.
“All right,” he used his staff to pick himself up, “time for round 2.”
“No, we fight together,” the prince said in determination as he readied his stance and was about to charge once more when another voice echoed.
“Seems like you guys can use a hand,” their eyes widen as they see the Bull King sink into the ground as a massive transparent violent hand of energy crushed him.
“Dad/Macaque!” MK and Red son cried out in relief as Iron Fan said it a bit more calmly as MK continued. “How are you here?!”
“Jade rang for me,” the voice echoed out as it continued its struggle against pinning the demon down. “Said some interesting things too.”
Mei's hands twitched anxiously as she waited for any sign of MK. She had just finished cleaning up the rest of the drones in the caves, but she thought it best if she kept here in case there would be any bot or people trying to sneak in to aid the nefarious family. Yet, that didn’t stop her from wanting to go down there and help her friend, no matter how stupid or dangerous that may be.
“You know what, screw this. Sorry MK, but we need all the help,” she gave a quick apology as she sucked in a deep breath and yelled, “MACAQUUEEE!”
Her voice vibrated through the walls.
She knew that she could have easily called him on her phone and he would have come just as quick, but that didn’t really matter in the long run as he saw a dark figure leap his way over to her. “Took you long enough,” she said with a small grin as he phased into the mech.
“Sorry, the city is in chaos as you know,” Macaque sarcastically said as he eyed her state to see any injuries.
“I’m fine,” she quickly said, “but MK is down there fighting DBK!”
“What!” His golden eyes that were tinted with violet eyes snapped onto her light green ones as all six ears twitched.
“Yeah, he didn’t want me to tell you, but I think we have bigger things to worry about.”
“Don’t want me-no,” he stopped himself short before he could go deeper. “Putting that to the side, for now, bigger problems first. Will you be fine if I go to your idiot brother.”
“I am currently inside of a monkey mech,” she deadpanned, “I am more than fine.”
He shot her a smirk and ruffled her already messed up hair and sunk back into the shadows and began to move deeper into the pit.
“Ahaha, about that,” MK nervously scratched the back of his neck.
“We are talking about this later.”
“Yeah that’s fair,” he slumped down.
Then a figure leaped out from the shadows of the Bull King as the Bull King rapidly gained back its bearing and destroyed the hand pinning it down.
Macaque whistled, “Well, I thought that it would at least keep you down a little longer than that, but apparently I’m wrong.”
“It’s the canister!” MK yelled, “they’re amplifying his powers.”
“You don’t say,” he muttered as he eyed the glowing blue power of energy then stared at it a bit harder as something felt off about it. “Somethings not right.”
Princess Iron Fan raised an eyebrow at his comment but quickly pushed it aside as she readied herself. “We can save questions for later, right now we have to get those off of my husband.”
“Right,” he nodded and his eyes went back to the Bull King who was getting up, “alright anyone got a plan.”
“Both Red son and I shall distract him, while the two of you get that monstrosity off him,” she said.
“Gotcha, you ready comet,” he summoned a few of his clones.
MK hesitated before nodding as he put his staff forward, “born ready.”
Then, without warning, the rest of the royal family burst into action as the two attacked the Bull King in a rapid fire as he was suddenly surrounded by a huge fire tornado.
“YOU SHALL FALL TOGETHER!” He roared out as he dispersed it with a loud crackle of energy.
Both of them, who was very much still injured and winded from their already long fight, were pushed back as they fell into the rubble. They slowly tried to get up as the glowing King stomped his way towards them.
His form seemed to almost ripple in anticipation as he locked his glowing blue eyes on their downed forms. No hesitation in his steps as the voices in his head urged him to finally end the traitors.
End the traitors
Destroy them for their treachery
Build a kingdom worth your name
Let their bones turn into ashes
Let their blood soak into the ground
Let their flesh set a reminder
You are the true king
“Yesss,” he hissed out his agreement as he raised his arms to finish them (ignoring the heavy invisible restraint against his arm and a small voice yelling at him to stop.) He would end this now.
Then his head was hit by a rock.
He snarled as he turned to look at MK, who was still in a throwing position.
“Hey, guess I’m a better pitcher than a hitter!” He joked, but then yelped as he felt himself get caught in the Bull’s hand.
“I’ve had about enough of you, one would think that you would learn more of the little sage tricks,” he snarled.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” he shrugged.
Bull King snarled as he proceeded to squeeze him until he was nothing but bones and blood.
“Wait! Wait!” He cried out until he poofed out in a golden light.
“What!” He shouted as he looked at the falling hair, “a clone!?”
“Yup!” He looked to see the real MK in mid-air, “and I didn’t learn little tricks from only the Monkey King,” he grinned as he summoned a hoard full of clones.
He snarled and was about to jump up to meet them when he felt his hooves and hands being grabbed, he looked down to see many Macaque clones holding him down, while some were grabbing his hands.
“Get ready for a nice wake up call,” the real Macaque smirked as he kept into the shadow to keep a steady supply of energy to his clones.
“HERE COMES MONKIE KID!” MK cried out as he and his clones proceeded to all out attack the Bull King until the canister was finally knocked off his back and with one final burst of energy, it had dispersed.
Freedom
Freedom
Gather back
Become one again
Vessel
Freedom
The black furred monkey felt a shiver running up his spine as he heard the voices ringing in his ears. He looked around and sure enough, it seemed that he was the only one who heard the ominous whispers.
‘That wasn’t a normal power madness,’ he concluded as he realized what really happened. Before he could tell the rest he felt a gust of wind come about as the three demons proceeded to leave.
“Are you serious?!” MK panicked as the rocks began to fall down all around them. “You really just left us here!”
“Honestly not surprised,” he shrugged his shoulder and grabbed his kid by the back of his shirt, “now come on and let’s get out of here before the rocks do us in.”
“How?!”
BOOM!
They looked to see a giant Monkey Mech burst in as Mei smiled at them.
“Everything went well! Need a lift?”
“Mei!”
“Nice timing Mushu.”
“That was some fight huh,” Sandy said as he ate his noodles on top of the giant mech with everyone else. “But we managed to stop DBK.”
“Nice job defeating him MK,” Tang grinned as he slurped up the remains of his bowl.
“I don’t know, I don’t think I really defeated him,” he muttered as he fiddled with his chopsticks. “There was something weird, that power he had just made him…different.”
“But we won right,” she looked on the bright side.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” the historian appeared over Pigsy's shoulder and was casually grabbing some noodles from his bowl. “You don’t need this right sugar.”
“Get your hands off my food!” He pulled away from his lover as everyone around them laughed.
Amid their exuberant energy, they haven’t quite realized that the area was almost desolate with anyone else, including animals and bugs that usually roam around here. The only animal anywhere near them was a bird that perched right on top of one of the outer rocks in the clearing. It seemed to be in a tranquil state as it took in the scene, so it spread its wings to fly off when a voice stopped him.
“You know you could have jumped down and talked to them instead of standing there like an actual creeper,” said Macaque as he emerged from the shadow.
The bird gave him wide eyes as he instinctively transformed back into his original form, “Didn’t really think I should just go in there when all is said and done,” Wukong said as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“Wow, it must have taken a long time to think about that with the way you were sitting there,” he rolled his eyes and leaned against the rock.
“I’m not that bad,” he muttered and settled back down on top of the rock.
“Could have fooled me with the number of times you have a stupid idea.”
“Oh like you haven’t had one.”
“I have my own fair share, but it doesn’t even pale in comparison to yours, should I bring up the Kinnara incident,” he smirked.
“How was I supposed to know that she would kick our ass for interrupting her song,” he grumbled.
“Your ass,” he emphasized, “I had the common sense to stay behind, one would think not to mess with a being whose own gaze can pierce through you.”
“Didn’t seem that way to me.”
“Well, you didn’t have something called survival instinct.”
“To be fair I had plenty of instincts, but I just chose to ignore it back then and thought she was a harmless target,” he then shuddered, “so many regrets that day.”
“Pfft,” he chuckled lowly and Wukong couldn’t help but join in. He knew he was very stupid back then and so much more impulsive and looking back on it now, it is rather funny. But the laughter couldn’t last forever as it then died down as the atmosphere turned into an awkward silence.
Both monkeys knew they were avoiding the bigger problem at hand, but neither wanted to bring that up. At the same time though, they couldn’t ignore it forever, and eventually one of them will have to make the first step soon.
So Macaque opened his mouth and said, “Well if you ever feel like leaving your mountain other than stalking my kid, the forest is always open.”
“Really,” his eyes widened.
‘You really want to see me again.’ The silent question was asked.
“It is a public area, though you might want to bring starlight along with you if you want to see the not so public sights,” he said with a shrug.
‘Yes, I do.’ Was the silent answer.
“I’ll definitely do that! Maybe sometime next week?” He couldn’t stop his smile from growing widely.
“That work, well I got to get back. Too much damn medicine to make and that’s with my clone's help,” he grumbled as he pushed back off the rock.
“See you then,” he said with a short wave.
Macaque flippantly waved his hand as he sank back into the shadows.
Wukong grinned as he watched his friend's aura travel through his shadows until he had reached the city limits. It was only then he turned back into his bird form and took off towards his mountain once more.
“So the hospital is really that backed up again,” MK asked as he sat on top of the rooftop with his dad the next day.
“Like a car side swiping a train,” he groaned as he laid down. “I just got done helping not even an hour ago.”
“I bet Yanyu had to drag you out,” the monkey successor snorted.
“Nah, she was snoring in the back room, she passed the fuck out a few hours back after a successful surgery,” he grinned in pride. His student has really come far since he first started teaching her and to think that she had doubts about her ability, now look at her working alongside the attending physicians. He can still remember her running towards him and lunged at him with utter joy on her face when she told him that she passed her qualifying exam. He is really proud of her.
“She deserves it,” he nodded.
“She does,” the monkey hummed as he got up, “but I think it’s time we talk about that little thing back in the cave.”
MK nervously straightened up as he scratched the back of his neck, “hahaha what do you mean?”
“You are still a terrible liar comet, why didn’t you call me,” he looked him in the eyes.
“I was going to,” he mumbled, not sounding at all convincing.
“Really,” his voice dripped with sarcasm.
MK tried to keep a straight face, but it didn’t last long as he groaned and put his face in his hands, “Alright fine I wasn’t! But I could have handled it! You're always there and I know I can count on you, but something I need to do by myself. I’m not a child anymore.”
“And I know your not, and I have tried my best to not hound on you,” he said then he let out a sigh, “believe me when I say that I know I worry a little too much-”
“A little?!” Mei shouted as she lifted the hatch up.
“Mei! How long have you been there?!” The twenty years old shouted.
“Hehehe, long enough,” she nervously giggled as she slowly climbed out and sat next to her brother. She had forgotten she was eavesdropping on them and just had to blurt out. “Kinda forgot, but I still stand by my point.”
“I know, I mean ever since you left I've been trying to hold back from outright following you around,” he reluctantly said, not even blinking an eye at Mei’s sudden appearance.
“And I'm glad you haven’t, Mei already has a tracker on all of us,” he shot a glare at his sister.
“Wait really?”
“Yes siree!”
“…I feel like I should talk to you more about that kind of stalking,” he eyed her as he was forcibly reminded of another monkey and his stalking.
“Have you seen the number of times we unintentionally get into weird situations, let alone the times we actively seek it out?” She deadpanned.
“And I take that back,” he retracted his words. “But regardless, I trust you Starbright. I trust you even when I want to scoop both you and your sister up and hide you away from the world. But when shit like this happens, I get fucking worried cause that could have ended in a complete disaster, you understand?”
“But it didn’t!” He protested.
“But it could have,” he shot back and leaned in close, “and I’m so fucking grateful that it didn’t. Cause what if something did happen and the both of you wound up biting more than you could chew, fuck the two of you could have died and I wouldn’t have known shit until I saw your corpse.”
“I-I,” MK didn’t know what to say as he lowered his head alongside Mei. Both teenagers were at a loss of words at the reality of the situation, especially MK.
Macaque took a deep breath and let out a huge sigh as he brought both children close to him, “Look, I trust you to take care of yourself, but if you think you land in a situation you can’t handle, please call me. I know I sound repetitive at this point, but I stand by my fucking word that I will come, okay.”
Both of them looked up to meet their dad’s concerned eyes and nodded.
“You got it,” Mei smiled and leaned further into his fur.
“Okay,” MK sniffed as cuddled closer to him.
The black furred monkey smiled down at both of them and gave them each a kiss to the forehead and silently watched the bustling city below just a little longer.
“I’m fine my queen,” Bull King grumbled as he walked through the cave. “I sustained only minor injuries.”
“I know you have, but you were overtaken by a sinister energy source that managed to drive you mad with power that put your meridians past the point of exhaustion,” she deadpanned. “You need to rest.”
“It still doesn’t make sense how such a source can overtake father's mind,” Red son muttered as he looked through an ancient book. “I have heard tales of items having power from their previous owners and using it to their own design, but never of just raw aura. It just doesn’t make sense.”
“You're not wrong spitfire,” they turned to see Macaque phasing out from the shadow of a rock.
“Six Eared Macaque,” Bull King grumbled before he suddenly caught a bag that was thrown at him. “What is-”
“Spiritual roots from the Kunlun Peak, brew those in tea and they should help your median lines get back into condition before the month is up,” the monkey said as he walked closer.
“This is most useful, I will transfer the money-” Macaque cut her off.
“Consider this repaying the favor of saving my son Raki.”
“If I had not attempted to harm your child in my plight of madness there would be no need for this,” DBK gritted out and slightly lowered his head. He knew that the slight of offense of their agreement was on him and his mad conquest of power, if the Six Eared Macaque declared retribution for his actions then he would have to honor his word. What the outcome will be for both sides remains a mystery.
“Yeahhh what you did was stupid, but that’s actually what I came down to talk to you guys about,” he patted Red Son on the shoulder, “your kid is right about the power madness, what happen to you was not that.”
“What?” Both father and son blurted out.
“Explain,” the mother's eyes narrowed as her hand twitched.
“You were being possessed by one bitch of a spirit, what kind, I don’t know, but I do know the signs of possession when I see one.”
“How?”
“Was the different colored glowing eyes not obvious enough? His spouts of madness? Him going completely feral? Whatever you guys found is powerful, powerful enough to influence you BK.”
There was a silence as the surreal announcement enveloped them then someone growled as two craters appeared on the walls.
“Who dares think they have the audacity,” Queen Iron Fan hissed out as the wind began to swirl around her.
“I swear when I find the leech who manipulates me, I will tear their body limb from limb, bone to bone, blood into ashes and let their soul never find rest,” the King growled out in utter hatred.
Prince Red Son said nothing as sparks of fire flickered on and off around different corners of the cave and his hand trembled with fury.
The Royal Bull family does not take lightly to insults upon their names. They are known for sparking dread within people, making those fall to their feet, being a symbol of fear and power spread all through the nation and someone had the insolence to try to not only take control of their King but even fucking dare try to rip the family apart and kill them under his own hands?
They shall feel their wrath, this they declare.
“Well I have my message out of the way,” he wasn’t even fazed by their spirited anger, “Red a word.”
This snapped the prince out of his fury as he walked over to his pseudo uncle, “How may I help you?”
“Not me per say, but certainly my two kids who are worried the hell for you.”
“Their okay right,” he quickly questioned as he knew MK was alright but hadn't seen signs of Mei.
“A little bruised up, but they had worse, but my advice to you kiddo is talk to them. They have been worried out of their minds and I’m sure whatever you might have done they’ll forgive you.” He knew that Red Son wasn’t talking to them out of some sort of self doubt and guilt, but he wasn’t about to pry into what he did.
“You really think so?”
“You’ll have to ask them yourself.”
“…I will,” he nodded, “Thank you.”
“No problem, but let me tell you that since I have known you for a long time and I know you wouldn’t do abuse trust so lightly, especially from people you give a shit about, I’ll let you off with a light warning,” his eyes began to faintly glow a light violet color, “I may not know what you did, but don’t try to maliciously deceive them again, okay.”
“Yes sir,” he immediately said.
“Good boy,” he smirked and ruffled his hair, “now stop fucking around and send them a text before I duct tape their mouths myself.”
“They’ve been that bad?”
“I almost sicced Daiyu on the both just so they could do something else other than complain,” he deadpanned.
“…full permission to do the same if they get past that point,” he smirked.
“You don’t need to even ask me.”
“Yes!” He excitedly pumped his fist.
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johnkrrasinski · 4 years
Text
𝐄𝐱𝐢𝐥𝐞
Chapter 5: Now I’m in Exile
full masterlist // series masterlist // commission open // support my work
Pairings: Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader
Word Count: 8,310 
Summary: Steve Rogers; a Hollywood A-lister and your clandestine occasional hookup. Best friends since childhood, but people change and friendships fall out. Now you were merely strangers with benefits. What happens when one day you stopped being his doormat to be a better man’s queen? The selfish Steve Rogers would not like it. How far is he willing to go to get his favorite possession back?
Warnings: smut, non-con/dub-con, dark Steve (in later chapter), angst, Steve Rogers is an asshole in this one, no redeeming qualities. (MUST BE 18+)
A/N: this series is dedicated to the lovely @belovedcherry​​​ who commissioned this story and developed the concept. thank you for being a friend when i truly needed it. i’m really glad that you trusted me to write this story for you. with all my heart, i sincerely hope you like it. this series will be updated every day.
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The calling tone reverberated in your hand as the beaming grin on your face mirrored on the screen. With every passing second, your anticipation grew. You couldn’t control your fidgeting so you took a deep breath and-
“Hey, boo!” Natasha’s voice modulated.
You lifted your right hand to the front camera’s level, revealing the rose golden Cartier wrapped finger as it glimmered under the light.
“Oh my God! Did he…?”
“Mhm,” you nodded. “I’m engaged, Nat!”
Natasha put a hand over her mouth, “holy shit! Girl, I’m so happy for you! Congratulations!” the gaiety on her face was palpable, you could feel it through the screen. There’s a reason why she and Wanda were the first people you passed the happy news to. After your parents of course.
“Thank you so much! I can’t believe it. Eight months ago, I thought I’d be single forever but here I am…”
“Yeah, things escalated quickly for you! Now you are someone’s fiancee and seven months pregnant. It’s mind-boggling,” she spoke like a proud sister. “I’m beyond happy for you. Really, I am.”
“I know this is probably too soon but, will you be my maid of honour, Nat?”
“You know damn well there’d be no wedding if you didn’t ask me to. Hell yeah, I will!”
“Ah, yes!” you hurrayed in excitement. “Alright, I’ll catch up to you later, okay? I gotta call Wanda too.”
“Do whatever you want boo, it’s your day.”
You hung up the phone and went through your contacts list, then clicked the phone number under Wanda’s name. The excitement bubbled up in your chest as you pictured the smile on her face when she sees the new lustrous thing on your finger.
Eight months earlier…
“Hey, y/n. It’s me, Adrian. It was a pleasure meeting you last night. How is the dress doing?”
“She is going for a dry cleaner. It was lovely to meet you too, except for the drink-spilling stain of course.”
“Sorry about that. But it got me your number and I would’ve done it again if that’s what it costs.”
You smiled down at your phone under the warm glow of the morning sunlight. “You showed me pictures of your dogs and cat so it’s a win-win situation for us both.” Wink emoji.
“Perhaps you and I could chat more about my dogs and my cat over a cup of coffee?”
“Will you promise you won’t spill the coffee on my shirt this time?”
“You have my word.”
“I’ll consider it, then.”
“Next Friday, at 7 PM. Write that down on your calendar.”
“I didn’t even say yes.”
He sent an adorable picture of his pomeranian dog looking up at him with pleading eyes. “How can you say no to this face?”
“Say no more. I’ll see you next Friday.”
-
Two weeks after the date.
You regurgitated your guts out in the toilet bowl and held up your hair, trying not to let the vomit splotch a strand of it. This was the third time you had to run to the loo to spew the queasiness in your body. You felt dizziness clouding your head. What the hell is wrong with your body? This had been a daily occurrence for the past one week.
You sat on the toilet lid after everything you swallowed earlier was out. You recollected every food that had made its way into your digestion the past couple of days… Did you eat something inedible? Perhaps that ice cream in your refrigerator had passed its expiration date, but you only bought it three days ago at the grocery store and you swore it could still last for two more months.
Maybe that shrimp that you ate at the Chinese restaurant with Adrian last night was stale. Ugh, you’re gonna need to talk to Adrian about this but you didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Perhaps, it was just another sickness caused by an unknown bad food.
But you also retrospected the shift in your body for the past couple of weeks. Your period was late this month… It should’ve started three days ago, what is happening? Could it be…? Oh no, there’s no way. You and Adrian hadn’t even moved it to the bedroom yet, so that means… If you are, then… It must be… Steve’s.
Oh hell no.
You recalled, the last time you and Steve met up for your weekly (sometimes more) hookup appointment was the day after you and Adrian met up for a coffee, which was your very first date with him. You didn’t know there would be plenty more to come so you went to what you had planted your soles so deep in, which was Steve Rogers’s penthouse in the upper east.
He had you on top with your arse facing him because he enjoyed the view better than your face. You struggled to bounce yourself up and down on his massive size. He could be such a sluggard sometimes but a man like him would always get his way, and if he needed to fuck out some tension, then he’d use you as a masturbation aid for as long as he wanted.
His grip on your hips was ruthless, you knew it was going to cause some bruises tomorrow but you couldn’t care any less. Not when he was pulling you down this deep that you could feel him penetrating your womb. His grunts filled your ears with eroticism and you picked up your pace to help him reach his climax. You shut your eyes with your mouth hanging open as soft moans escaped through your lips. You clenched around him and you felt his cock throbbed, you knew it was coming. Literally. Your coil shattered just a few seconds before he released his seed deep inside you. He pulled out and went to the bathroom to clean himself up and left you rumpled on the couch.
He left to Atlanta the next day to shoot a new movie. Something about an organization reinforced by the Nazi during World War II, and how the Captain leads an elite combat unit to the battle against an organization called Hydra. You didn’t know that until you looked it up on the internet.
You hadn’t received another booty call for him ever since. He was probably sleeping with twenty-something-year-olds models in Atlanta though.  
And you had made peace with the tragic reality you were stuck in. You had accepted the reality that you and Steve were like riding down a dead-end street. There was no making love on Sunday mornings and have brunch together afterwards. There was no settling down in a countryside house where your kids could run around barefoot on the front yard. There was no marriage vows and walking down the aisle in white for you.
But all that changed when you decided to take a pregnancy test and the result revealed that you were indeed pregnant. You took three more and the results were all the same. Fucking hell. What the hell are you going to do now?
You had to call Steve, right? He was the father after all. You couldn’t tell Adrian because he would despise you for sleeping with another man and possibly carrying his child and he probably would never want to talk to you anymore. He’d probably regret knowing you at all. And you didn’t want to send him away. You liked him, he was good for your heart and the more you explored him, the more mesmerized you become by his magnetic force.
You were distraught. You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t know whom to call, so you just sat there in the tenebrosity of your room, out of options and out of clue.
Eventually, you collected your nerves and you dialled Steve’s number. He didn’t answer. He told you once that he didn’t like being called unless he called you first so you never did, but this time, you had to speak to him. “Please, pick up…” you prayed while on the verge of breaking down completely.
You were directed to his voice mailbox.
“This is Steve Rogers and if I’m not picking up that probably means you shouldn’t be calling me.”
Beep. “Hey Steve, I’m really sorry for calling you this late but I really need to talk to you. Please, it’s urgent.”
Three hours later and there were still no callbacks. You had sent him twenty-eight text messages and his voice mailbox was full. If you waited one more goddamn second, you’d lose your mind. So you picked up your phone and bit the bullet and typed the words; “I’m pregnant and you are the father. Please call me back so we can talk about it.”
It was around 4.30 AM when you checked the time on your lock screen. You were fatigued; both physically and emotionally. You had to unwind from every quandary that impinged you today. It was a lot and you were at a complete loss, but you’ll figure it out tomorrow.
You didn’t sleep well that night, you kept waking up whilst it was still dark out, and you had to wake up at 7.30 tomorrow for work. You kept looking at the sleek device that was left unmuted on your bedside table in case Steve called back. He didn’t though. You only slept for an hour and you really wanted to take a day off but you’d lose your mind if you were left alone with your thoughts and no distraction. So you got out of bed, took a shower and prepared for work, with your thoughts filled with the future of this baby growing inside you and Steve. Why hasn’t he called back or even text at all? Does he really think so little of you?
The impulse to check your phone and call and text him every five minutes was adamantine. You tried to control the itch of sending him another text and voicemail but it failed until you read the words ‘not delivered’ in red under the last text message that you just sent. You tried to resend it over and over again and even tried to write a new message but it was the same result.
You moved to your call feature but after a single ring, you were diverted to voicemail. It took you a few seconds to realize that Steve had blocked you. You went to the last media to reach out to him and it was through his Instagram account. You didn’t even follow each other and you were certain that he received thousands of DMs and notifications every day from his obsessive fans. He had 39 million followers for God’s sakes, the hell is one message from you going to mean anything?
But you were despondent and you needed someone to go through this with, especially the father himself. You did it anyway without thinking twice and told him that you were pregnant and you needed to talk to him. You even sent a picture of those three pregnancy tests and attached it on your message. You couldn’t stop biting your lip and tapping your foot throughout the entire way to your work in the train. Man, were you really going to raise this child alone?
-
Three days later and still no signs of him attempting to return your messages. You had slowly accepted your fate that you were going to carry and raise this child alone. You still hadn’t told Adrian despite talking to him every day and it crushed your heart whenever you heard his elated tone. You could tell that he was really into you and he wanted to take this relationship further but sorrowfully, one way or another, you were going to have to tell him the secret growing in your belly and you were going to have to slaughter this exquisite potential. You wondered if the circumstances were different or you had met at another time or in another universe, would Adrian be the one you were meant to be with?
You made a promise to yourself that you were going to meet him tomorrow and tell him the truth. Delaying it wouldn’t make it any easier and it wouldn’t prevent the doom from happening. If anything, it would only elongate the hurt. So you picked up your phone after you cerebrated it on your mind and clicked on Adrian’s chat room; “meet me at the Drive Brew Cafe tomorrow? Got something I’d like to talk about.”
“Is it something really urgent or you’re just looking for an excuse to see me?” Wink emoji.
“Oh, stop flattering yourself. We really need to talk.”
“Usually, I’d ask a person the matter before I’d decide that it’s important enough for me to meet them in person but I’m giving you a pass.”
“Very generous of you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, y/n.”
-
You arrived ten minutes earlier than the time you both agreed to meet at. The cafe wasn’t too crowded, thank God, so you immediately ordered a cup of Machiatto for Adrian and a cup of hot chocolate to calm your nerves. After the barista called your name, you walked to the corner booth before anyone could occupy it first. You were going to need some privacy. You sat as your hands trembled from edginess. You couldn’t stop fidgeting and tapping your foot as the second passed by on the clock.
Exactly on 6.30 PM, a dashing brunet in a dark grey vest and rolled-up sleeves entered and you stood up to greet him. He just came home from work and man, it was impossible for him to ever look bad even for once, you were so lucky but life just kept finding a way to eliminate the people you cared about.
“Hey, you look good.” his British accent was thick. He kissed your cheek and embraced you with a warm smile.
“So do you. How was work?” You both sat on the opposite chairs of the booth.
“The ordinary. We had a meeting with a director of this historical film to get us to fund the project. How was yours?” The genuinely curious look on his face nearly changed your mind. Oh, how you wish you could hold on to this moment where you could still have him a little longer.
“Nothing new, just another day at work. This one’s for you by the way.” You didn’t know what more to say when your mind was cluttered so you stalled by passing over his drink.
“So, what’s so important that you needed to see me?”
“Adrian, you know, I really like you, right?” you took his hand in yours as you stared into his striking eyes. “And I’ll always be grateful that you were foolish enough to ruin my dress that night.”
He was perplexed. His eyebrows were furrowed. “As much as I enjoy your companion, I’m sure that you didn’t call me to meet you only to thank me for wrecking your dress, right?”
“Yeah, but um… I just, it’s been wonderful knowing you. And… Oh God, this is going a lot harder than I thought.”
He nodded. A dejected look on his face that you wished you could wipe out. “Let me save you the trouble… You are breaking up with me.” He didn’t say it as if he was guessing, he said it as if it was a declaration that he’d figured out before you could even formulate the words.
“Adrian… I’m pregnant. And you’re not the father, so don’t worry. I know when you first asked me out, this isn’t what you signed up for. So I’m setting you free. I’m sorry.”
You expected him to get up and walk out of the door, leaving you with your alienation but none of that was detected on his expression or his body language. “Who is the father?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
“Adrian…”
“Don’t I at least deserve to know who my girlfriend is sleeping with before I even took her to my bed?”
Girlfriend. Huh. Well, that’s first.
“Steve Rogers.”
“Steve Rogers the actor?”
“Yes…”
He snickered. That drew a mystification out of you. “What’s so funny?”
“So you’re into the arsehole type.”
“…How do you know what kind of person he is?”
“The movie that we had a meeting about today? He’s going to star in it and I’ve met him a couple of times at some parties. Not the nicest guy, eh?”
“I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”
He sipped a bit of his coffee. “How did you get involved with a bloke like him?”
So you told him everything; the beginning of your friendship, the fallout, the moment he took your V-card in your dorm, and how years later, he still had you on a chokehold. He didn’t seem to mind one bit that the woman that he had been seeing had a history with someone. He’d dealt with much worse scenarios in his former dating lives. He wasn’t going to let other man’s neglected baby stand in the way of what could be something beautiful.
“I’m not walking away.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m staying. I like you and I know you feel the same way too. We are going to raise this baby together. No child deserves to grow up fatherless. I’m going to be its father.”  
“Adrian, but…”
“No buts, we’ll get through this together. Now, let’s enjoy these tasty drinks before they get cold, yeah?”
So you nodded, too dumbstruck by the man before you. You drank your hot chocolate that was cooling down and let his presence soothe you better than the sweet drink on your tongue.
-
Steve went back to New York after spending nearly four months in Atlanta, shooting his movie. Man, he’d lost count on how many extras he had fucked in his hotel room but nothing felt as good as your pussy. He thought about your last text before he blocked you. You had claimed that you were pregnant with his baby. You must’ve lost your mind to think that he’d buy that shit.
So he picked up his phone, unblocked your number and pressed the call button. Three dial tones and a familiar voice answered. “Hello?”
“Hey baby, meet me at my place tonight.”
“Who is this?”
“Hillarious, y/n. I’m too fucking tired for jokes okay? Come here and suck my cock then maybe I’ll listen to your jokes.”
“Is this Steve Rogers?”
“Fuck yeah, it’s me, y/n. Who else do you think I am?”
A pause jammed the line. “I’m done, Steve.”
“What? The fuck do you mean you’re done?”
“I sent you thousands of texts and calls five months ago and you couldn’t even lift your fingers to answer.”
“I was in the middle of shooting, y/n. You know better than to call me while I’m working.”
“Oh, screw you, Steve. I’m pregnant and you didn’t even care? How much of an asshole can you be?”
“You were actually serious about that?”
“Of course you think I was joking. But don’t worry, it’s none of your concern now. We’re done. Don’t call me anymore.”
“Wait, wait! Y/N!” you cut off the line. “Ah shit.”
He tried to call five more times and you neglected every single one of them. In fact, you instantly blocked his number after the last phone call with him. You didn’t want to be associated with him anymore. You thought that Steve had forgotten about you since he blocked your number first so you never had to do it yourself. But of course, an entitled scoundrel such as he is would never stop taking and taking until you had nothing more to give.
It took you years of anguish, an unforeseen mishap and a beautiful stranger that ended up being the stupendous love you’d been looking for to open your eyes to the rotten core of Steve Roger’s heart. He ever only lusted for your flesh, he never gave a shit about you as a person.
You lived for the hope of it all, you cancelled plans just in case he’d call, and you never once suspected the pitfall, but you were no longer that foolish girl anymore. You had met a real man now and he led you to the path of love and happiness and Steve was no longer the most intrinsic thing on your mind.
-
Steve was going apeshit. He had never been rejected or denied before, he always had it so effortlessly. Especially by you. He thought he’d always have you by the palm of his hand, he thought whenever he asked you to jump, you’d always say “how high?”, he thought whenever you’d think about walking near to the door, you’d always turn around with a few sensual touches and sugarcoated words, but the renunciation that came out of your mouth sting like a bitch and he didn’t like his ego being trampled over.
He went to sleep later that night, dreaming about caressing you and kissing you as a lover would. Never once did he ever have such a dream about anyone before. Maybe he belonged to you more than he had realized all this time.
-
It was his fourth time this week of standing on the street of your apartment building after you returned his plenteous gifts that you certainly never even asked for or needed. Why would you? You could easily buy that necklace jewellery, that overpriced velvet dress, and those designer shoes with your own money. And even if you couldn't, your boyfriend could easily afford all those things for you too. But that motherfucker used his money to buy you shoddy gifts such as poorly designed accessories and tacky books and yet you happily accepted them? What a closefisted fool.
But who are we kidding? The sole reason why you didn’t accept those gifts is that you no longer cared about him. Those inducements didn’t work on you anymore. You were much happier with a better man now. What do you have to lose?
Rather than dwelling in self-pity and resentment, he hid in Range Rover in a black baseball cap and Tom Ford shades from the paparazzi and waited. Waited for her to come out. He had been religiously stalking every social media you had from another private account to track your activities. The last photo you posted on your Instagram was a picture of you and the scary college roommate of yours that he’d forgotten the name of. It was last Saturday.
“Always a delight to catch up with this one. Love you @natasharomanoff.”
under 281 likes and 32 comments. He scrolled through every single one of them and searched for any clue that might indicate your next move. Found one.
Wandamaximoff: “Don’t forget about me!! :(” so they are still friends apparently.
Natasharomanoff: “Same time next week? 💕”
“Absolutely,” you replied to the red-head.
Gotcha. He’ll be there.
So here he was, waiting for you to come out of that building to grab an Uber because he knew you weren’t so into driving. Except for that late-night rendevous of course, because he told you once that he’d hate for a single soul to know there was something going on between you and him. You were a secret and he’d like to keep it that way. Sooner or later, people are gonna talk and headlines are going to break the internet.
Two minutes later, you stepped out wearing a beige coloured cable knit cardigan and a grey jersey maxi dress underneath with a necklace around your neck. He couldn’t see it from this distance but the item had made a few appearances in some of your recent Instagram posts, and he already knew that you wore it wherever you go. It was an initial necklace of the letter ‘A’ in silver.
He hated the arising thought but he couldn’t help but think how ethereal you looked in your casual, maternal clothes. Perhaps even more than when you wore those petite dresses that always made you look uncomfortable whenever you wore them. You walked with grace and there’s this elegance that you just exuded without trying too hard. You could be wearing the most boring clothes or doing the most mundane things like looking down at your phone to text your Uber driver and you’d still look enchanting.
Man, how could he had been so blind all this time?
It shredded his heart even worse knowing that the growing fetus in your belly was his, but when that baby borns, another man would hold it instead of him and the kid would grow to learn that another man was its father instead of him. That motherfucker. He didn’t have any right in raising that baby. You were bearing his child. Not Adrian’s. You belonged to him. You always did. Fate had interlaced your paths long before you were given birth to this world. No one knew you better than him and vice versa. Not even that former roommate of yours or Wanda. Only him. He had to have you back. Whatever it takes.
He was so inflamed with debt and feebleness of his childhood that he turned into someone he used to loathe when he was younger. He strayed so far away from the path that his mom had paved for him to walk in and he wasted the one good thing in his life that kept him going when he had nothing. But he couldn’t turn back now, couldn’t cross out the mistakes that he did. The best he could do is make use of what he is capable of now and utilize it cleverly.
A scheme was formed in his head… He’d have you back in no time. One way or another.
-
Months went by and his patience emaciated. He had it all drawn out in his head but he had to be very careful. If he rushed or stepped on the wrong stone, he’d end up being decapitated and his career would burn to ashes. Especially with how the paparazzi and the media were always busting up his ass, like hunters with foxes. He couldn’t have that. He had worked too hard to see it all crumble beneath his feet.
He rejected all film projects and public appearances offered by his agent slash good friend, Sam Wilson. Sam was getting a little frustrated by Steve for being unreasonable. He was his most ambitious client, never one to say no to a good script and occasions that could advance his career and generate more profit for both of them.
But after he returned from Atlanta for his last movie, he had been shutting most people out. Sam was always his most trusted confidant, he was his agent, after all, it was his responsibility to make sure the client that earned him the most income was well in health and aptitude. But he was scratching his head trying to get Steve to open up to him.
Sick of Steve’s shortcoming, he called Steve and told him to come to the office.
“Fuck off, Sam. Why can’t you just talk on the phone?”
“Get your ass down here or I will come to your house myself.”
He groaned and hauled himself to Sam’s office, not in the mood for Sam’s garrulous nagging.
-
Steve knocked on Sam’s door and he saw Sam sitting in his usual black and white attire in his ergonomic chair. He had a frown on his face instead of his usual conceited womanizer charm. “What’s with the long face?” Sam asked.
“Nothing. I’m just worn out.”
“Cut the bullshit. Last time you got your ass to work was six months ago. What the hell is happening with you?”
“I just haven’t found any good script that interests me, Sam. And I told you, I needed a short break. I’ve been travelling nonstop for the past few years to shoot films and press tours, and now I just need to hit the pause button.”
“The Steve Rogers I know isn’t one to rest. He was power-hungry and always craved for more. You also rejected an Oscar potential role. Something’s going on and it’s deeper than just needing a break. C’mon, talk to me man. As a friend, not as your agent. Let me help you.”
It took him a few seconds to brace himself. He didn’t need to tell him the entire truth, he just had to ask Sam fora favour and then the Steve Rogers that made him millions would come back. “You know anyone who’s good at editing photos?”
“…What?” Sam was perplexed.
“Just let me know, Sam. You got any connections to editing experts? Hook me up.”
“What is fueling this?” Sam was bewildered. He looked at Steve like he had just grown two heads out of nowhere.
“Just trust me on this one, alright? You link me to a good editor and business will back as usual.”
“I know a guy.”
-
Your bachelorette party was fun. You, Natasha, Wanda and a few of your fellow colleagues were invited to the tea party at the garden of The Berkeley in London, which is the hometown of your fiance. You loved London and you always had such a good time whenever you paid it a visit with Adrian.
Now that the weekend was over, it was time to pick up little Nathan from your parents’ house. A beautiful baby boy was born three months ago and he was your parents’ joy. You never told them that the real father was the scrawny kid who used to lounge around on their couch every Wednesday afternoon when there was nothing much to do. Your parents loved Adrian as their own and it was all that mattered.
This baby is going to grow up with so much love from his parents and grandparents. From your chosen family who will become his aunties and uncles. He is going to be raised right in gentleness, affection, and sincerity. And it would never matter how he was conceived into this world in the first place.
You refused to leave this baby for more than five minutes but Wanda and Nat kept insisting that you needed some time for your own. One bachelorette party wouldn’t hurt. It’s only one weekend. Besides, your grandparents were obsessed with baby Nathan and they were going to take such good care of him while you were away, celebrating your single life with your girlfriends before you spend the rest of it with someone.
Now you were back home, you couldn’t wait to see your baby. You had been thinking about him endlessly in London and you missed holding him close to your chest. So you put on your coat and took your keys to drive to your parents’ house but you were stopped by a text message before you could open the door of your car.
“Enjoyed your bachelorette party?” An unknown number wrote.
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Who the hell is this?” your thumb typed and pressed the send button.
“You know me. Better than anyone, just like I know you too better than your fiance.”
Your heartbeat quickened. “Stop texting or I will call the police.”
But before you could hit the send button, a picture of your face popped on the screen. But what disarrayed your mind wasn’t your face, it was the body. You were stark naked with your knees on a mattress and your ears teared up, and your lips were wrapped around a shaft.
What. The. Fuck?
“Got plenty more.” the unknown number threatened.
Another picture of you lying on the same bed, except this time you were on your back so your tits were clear cut visible and your mouth was parted slightly like you were moaning. A hand was wrapped around your throat and yours were pinned above your head by another one.
You were frozen in place and the warm autumn air descended into zero degree celsius. Your breath hitched and tears started brimming in your eyes. Who could have these pictures of you?
“I’ve got many more if you’re curious just how much of a slut you can be.”
“Stop. What do you want?” your fingers trembled.
“Meet me at the New York State Pavillon tonight, at 11 PM. Alone. Bring your baby. If you dare to report this to the cops, I will send these pictures to your fiance and post them on every existing site on the internet.”
The words didn’t leave any room for argument or further questions. So you drove to your parents’ house to pick up Nathan for the last time ever.
-
Adrian was working late tonight. He told you over the phone that a big project was in the work and so he and his team had to stay a little longer in the office to get it done as soon as possible. You were a bit relieved because that means, you could save yourself from whatever was bound to happen when you arrive at the abandoned historical world fair.
“Don’t forget to drink water. I love you.” You reminded him.
You wrapped Nathan in a blanket to keep him warm and you placed him in the infant car seat next to you. Your mind couldn’t stop flashing back to those pictures. Who could you possibly have done so wrong that they thought exaction would be the most fitting comeuppance. It took about 35 minutes via Grand Central Parkway which was the fastest route so you took it. Your mind also couldn’t stop asking questions, so many questions… But most importantly, who could this person be? Could it be… No, no way. You knew him. That was the last thing he’d ever do. Not because he wasn’t a nefarious person but because the world was constantly throwing themselves at him, offering him dollars and women.
He had too much in his plate to look over to yours and wanted to steal what was in it too. After months of not a single contact made, he must’ve had forgotten about you right? C’mon. This is ridiculous. But if it’s not him, then who could it be?
You arrived at Flushing Meadows a half-hour later and then you texted the number. “I’m here. What do you want?” you kept Nathan inside, fearing that whoever the culprit is might hurt him. So you stayed inside as consternation overcame you.
A few minutes later he answered, “step out the car and bring the baby.”
“Don't hurt my baby, please. Take me, but let him return safely to his father.”
“He will. Now, do as I say or I will publish these pictures.”
You trembled. You unlocked the door of your car and stepped out of it deliberately holding Nathan to your chest. You were careful to keep him from crying. The crisp air sent shivers down your spine. You closed the door and waited. Your eyes roved to all over the desolated site. Until it landed on those familiar blue eyes that held more ice than the air.
“…Steve?”
The man you used to know was different now. His face that used to be clean-shaven was now covered in a glorious beard that made him indistinguishable. His dusty blonde hair was slightly longer and he dressed in dark clothes that amplified the sinister atmosphere circling him.
You held Nathan closer to you with one hand behind his head, trying to keep him quiet. “Don’t be like that, let me see my son.”
“No. He’s not yours.” You spat.
He scoffed. “Say whatever you want, sweetheart but it’s my blood running in his little veins. In fact, I think we can take a DNA test and send it to your fiance, how about that? Also, how is Mr and Mrs. Y/L/N?”
“Leave my parents alone, Steve.”
“Are you going to cut that attitude of yours or do we have to do this the hard way? Either way, I don’t mind.”
“I’ll be good. Just please, don’t involve my parents.”
“Good, I know the good girl I knew is still somewhere inside you. Now, drop your phone to the ground and smash it.”
“…What? No! How am  I going to-”
He furrowed one eyebrow at you and you instantly understood the peril if you repudiated him once more.
You took out your phone from the pocket of your coat and dropped it to the ground. You stomped it with your foot until the screen was cracked, but Steve wasn’t satisfied enough with its damaged state so he stomped it harder than you did until it was smashed into two.
He led you to his Range Rover that he parked in an empty street and opened the backseat door and you slide into it with Nathan still tucked under your neck. Then he closed the door and walked to the driver’s seat and drove away to God knows where.
“Where are we going, Steve? Nathan needs to sleep. He can’t-”
“Quiet. He’ll be home soon.”
You didn’t dare to ask more questions. The vacancy in his eyes that were reflected on the rearview mirror was petrifying enough as it is. You sat and stared out the window and think about Adrian. Was he home yet? Did he try to call or text you? What would he do when he realizes you weren’t home? You couldn’t help but think that this morning was possibly the last time you’d ever see Adrian. God, you missed him already. You prayed to whatever God was listening that he would save you and your son soon.
Please Adrian, please do something. I love you.
The soft hum of the engine made your eyes feel droopy. You tried your best to stay awake but it was nearing midnight and the jet lag was still encompassing you so the fight in you to stay awake resolved. You gave in to the lethargy with Nathan dozing on your lap.
You were woken up by a shake on your shoulder and you found Steve standing on the open door. “Get up, we’re here.”
In your still languorous state, you got out of the car hugging Nathan close. “Where are?”
The sounds of crickets saturated the ambience as only the faint glow of the moon illuminated the trees around you. There was nobody around except you and Steve -and Nathan if a three months creature counts-. You put two and two together… Did Steve take you into the woods?
“Steve, what are we doing here?”
He didn’t meet your eye or answered you but instead, he walked toward what looked like a mid-century modern wooded oasis perched on a sloping site and set on stilts. The trees blended with the wood side exterior and wraparound decks. You had no idea whose house this belonged to but it was enchanting.
“Go ahead.”
You approached the resident that was incandescent with yellow lights, giving you a little peek to the furniture inside. You hoped whoever owned this property wasn’t sleeping yet, it was literally in the middle of the night, what the hell was Steve even doing taking you to a stranger’s house?
“Steve, I really don’t think this is a good idea…” as you stood freezing on the terrace. “Can we go back now? I really don’t want Adrian to worry.”
He fumbled with a key and unlocked the entrance. “Get in.”
Your eyes scanned the room to make sure there was no one around that might bust your ass tot he police for breaching before you stepped in. Your eyes peregrinated to every corner of the interior, relishing in the smell of oak and firewood.
He then took you for a quick tour to every section of the house without saying anything that would actually straighten your befuddlement. The decorations were full of vintage and antiques. “You like it?” Steve asked.
“I mean… it’s lovely for sure.”
“Good, then that means we won’t have to redecorate.”
“Wait, wait… What?”
“I bought this house for us, sweetheart. I knew you’d love the cozy design and it’s a perfect place for Nathan to grow up in.”
“Steve, what the hell are you talking about?”
“We’ll work things out. I’ll stay here with you for the rest of the weekend and I’ll only leave when I need to work. You won’t have to worry about anything else, I’ll take care of it.”
“God, you are crazier than I thought. I’m going home.”
He stopped you by blocking the entrance door and glared. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart.”
“Steve, get out of my way.”
“You are mine. That baby is my son, you hear me? This is where you belong.”
“I’m gonna call the cops.”
“With what? Your phone?” He derided. “You don’t even know where the hell we are.”
“Adrian’s gonna come looking for me.”
“No, he won’t. Because I’ve sent those pictures of you to him and to your boss, who is it? Tony Stark? And you don’t have any life to get back to. This is your life now.”
Your heart sunk. No, no, he can’t be. He promised he won’t if you did what he said, right?
“You’re lying…”
“I did. I sent it while you were snoozing in the car. Shit, I’d pay a million bucks to see the look on that asshole’s face when he realized just how much of a dirty slut his fiancee is… Well, ex-fiancee now.”
“Why would you- you promised you wouldn’t if I did what you asked me to.”
“Well, that agreement has changed,” he said it so nonchalantly as if he hadn’t just pulverized the life you had built for yourself, the happiness you had stacked on a shelf that took you years to collect; a great job, a loving boyfriend, an adorable baby.
You wanted to lash out, you wanted to smack him in the face but you were too wounded by what you just heard. If you returned to Adrian and your work tomorrow, would you still even have them? Would they even accept you at all? You knew better than trying to report a powerful man such as Steve Rogers to the cops, he could bribe them, he could get a qualified lawyer. He could also make you lose the battle you never wanted to be a part of even if you were the victim, he could easily paint you as the mentally unstable woman that wanted to blackmail him for money.
The media had never captured pictures of you sneaking out of Steve’s apartment. Steve never took you for a stroll in the park or Sunday brunch because that’s all you were; a secret. Steve never wanted to be seen with you and Steve never wanted to share you with the world for whatever reason. Steve didn’t mind being photographed by models and other film stars, but not you. And now, he wanted to keep you in this little vault or calaboose so that you’d never escape and the traces of your history would be erased forever from the world’s memory.
Because Steve Rogers was no longer the man you used to ride around the bicycle with during the summer or the scrawny romancer you used to know, but he was a selfish man, a man with enough ego and ego to completely metamorphosed himself into whatever he wanted to be, no matter how ruthless and perilous that person he is. And now here you were, a mere object for him to assert his powers on, and you knew it wasn’t because of his love for his son or for you, but simply because he always got his way. Always.
“Now you can stay here, accept your new life with me and raise Nathan together, or you can face the disgrace that your fiance and your boss see you as. You think he’s gonna let you come back to his house? You think your boss is gonna shrug it off and let you come back as if nothing happened? No. You’re dispensable, and one way or another, you’re gonna come back to me. Even if you don’t, I’ll find a way to make you.”
“Why me? You could have every other woman in the world… Why me, Steve?”
“Because you think that you can repudiate me… You can’t. You think you can take away control from me… You can’t,” he gritted. “Not a single person in the world can.”
The tears in your eyes fell the floor as your legs wobbled. “Now, let’s not keep our son awake any longer yeah? Put him to bed. And then… You can be the good housewife you were meant to be and perform your duties.”
So he led you to the nursery room and you put Nathan in the crib. You wanted to fight, you wanted to reach that door and run… Even if you don’t know where you were going, as long as you could escape from this maniac. But you knew better than running away to in the middle of nowhere at midnight, in the cold with your son. You also knew better than thinking that Steve wouldn’t do whatever he could to get you back under his feet… so what was the point in countering anymore? Men like Steve Rogers always wins.
After you put Nathan to sleep, he led you to the master bedroom and ordered you to strip. The routine revokes old memory. “Get on your knees,” he commanded as he sat on the edge of the bed, like a king waiting to be served.
You did as he says and stood between his spread legs. “Take off my pants.”
You unzipped it and pulled it down along with his briefs. “Good girl, now, open.”
You parted your lips, wide enough to fit him and circled your tongue around the tip. Just like you used to because he liked the buildup and you knew it better than anyone. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and tugged on it harshly then inched himself back deeper into your mouth. You hollowed your cheeks to accommodate his girth as he hit the back of your throat each time he went back in.
“Ah fuck, I’ve missed that sweet mouth of yours…” He picked up the pace and you looked up to him. His face contorted in pleasure while you were feeling anything but. You feel repulsed, you wanted to push him away but you couldn’t. He closed his eyes, relishing in the feel of your mouth around him and threw his head back.
He moaned as he controlled your movement faster, trying to get himself off. Your eyes teared up as you looked up at him, and his cock throbbed. He climaxed deep inside your mouth as he kept your head down so every drop that he had was spilled down your throat. He kept you there until he had no more to offer and then he pulled himself out. “Get on the bed, ass up, face down.”
You followed his command and waited until you could feel him kneeling behind you. “Just like old times, huh?” He chuckled. You could feel the tip of his cock nudging your clit and then he invaded your body through your entrance. “Shit, you’re still so fucking tight. Did that asshole ever fuck you at all?”
You didn’t answer but moaned instead as you could feel him stretching you like he used to. And no matter how many times he had fucked you, you never truly got used to it. Adrian’s face came in flashes; you recalled how he made love to you, how gentle he would be with you and how intimate your lovemaking session was, a stark contrast to how Steve would treat you. You also compared their sizes, Adrian was average compared to Steve. Whenever Steve entered you, it always felt like an intrusion, an unforeseen attack, rather than your fleshes weaving into one.
He retracted himself and then pushed back in brutally and you whined. He held onto your hips in a bruising grip, as he pounded into you because he was never one for a tender start; he only had wanted to get himself off and that was it. “Does he fuck you this good? Bet you think of my dick when he fucks you.”
Your body jolted every time he jerked himself forward and he groaned and grunted. He hammered into you relentlessly and incessantly, causing you to clench around him. The wetness made squelching noises as you could feel your impending orgasm approaching, forming a dam inside you that was ready to break any second now. He sped up and he screamed in pleasure as the coil inside you broke, you reached your peak at the same time and he buried himself deep inside you, spilling every drop that he had deep in your womb.
“Bet that British asshole doesn’t even make you cum, huh? And I know you always fake it to get him off you.” He sneered as he detached himself from you and got off the bed to clean himself off to the bathroom.
You laid there in the same position, feeling voidness creeping up your heart like you once were; unwanted and alone. Steve had stripped you of your pride, dignity and honour once and even after you managed to climb out of that pit, he found a way to drag you back down once more and locked you under.
And there was nothing else that you could do except accepting your fate as his perpetual prisoner, living under the corruption and unforgiving authority of Steve Rogers. You could only hope that once Nathan is grown enough, you could somehow sneak him out of this confinement to live a much better life and eschew himself from turning into the monster that his father is.
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faustrinus · 4 years
Text
Family (wolfstar)
Everyone has impulses. Like the sudden urge to eat ice cream or listen to a certain song- it depends. There are also different types of impulses, productive and useful ones and dumb ones, the ones that you know you will regret after doing it but you do it anyway.
Sirius has had a handful of dumb ones, maybe enough to start considering it as a part of his whole persona. But after running away from his family and receiving that not so delightful letter from his mother, something has been keeping him awake. 
We have removed you from the family tapestry. It read on the paper, big letters at the end assuring him that what he had done couldn't be undone, no turn back. It's not like he was interested in ever going back to that place, but knowing that he was eliminated from the most important thing the family had, a symbol of tradition and honour- although expected, it wasn't a nice feeling what invaded him. It was the total opposite.
Since he was young, his whole personality was the fact he was a Black. People didn't take the time to get to know him because they assumed all the members from the House of the Black were the same, cold and maniac pure-bloods. The first surprise was Sirius getting into Gryffindor and not Slytherin, but even like that people still had prejudices, sometimes he found himself sitting extremely straight, hearing footsteps and feeling panicked, or normalizing behaviour that was in fact... abusive and toxic. 
The marauders showed him a lot of things, helped him get better at being himself. 
But he couldn't show them all he wanted to, it was overwhelming to remember. That was why he didn't tell them about the letter or the words his own mother used to call him- that remained a secret, and it didn't feel right. Especially considering what he had in mind. 
A dumb impulse, one of the worst you could think of.
He had to get back to the Black house and confirm he was removed from the tapestry, he had to see it. One thing was reading it and having the benefit of the doubt and the other one was having it right in front of you. He had been planning since the letter arrived, writing at what hours he knew the family left the house, where Kreacher slept while he knew he was alone, the easiest way to enter, everything. He wasn't an organized person, but this was a matter of life or death.
If they saw him, they would kill him, no doubt. They were near to do it more times he was able to admit.
Now, going alone seemed like the perfect idea. He would go in, see the tapestry and then go, nothing more. But that house was not only that, it was hell, it brought memories so dark and terrifying that just thinking about being alone at that place made his heartbeat ten times faster. He needed someone around to stay grounded, at least somewhat peaceful.
James was too clumsy and curious, he would touch everything he was interested in or probably would try to hex something in the house as an act of revenge. Even without asking, he just knew Peter was probably too scared to go, and he wasn't going to force him.
Remus was a good option. He and Sirius had this weird more than friends thing going on- but it was fine, they were comfortable with it and their friendship remained the same, except for the kisses and couple stuff they were afraid to name. Remus could calm him and make him laugh even in the tensest situations. 
So it was Remus. 
He was there, reading peacefully as the sun hit the window. Maybe he was too concentrated to notice, but Sirius had been looking at him for more than twenty minutes without stopping.
Or maybe he did notice but was waiting until Sirius could gather all the guts he needed to say whatever was going on his mind. Remus was patient about it, he was conscious of how pressure could affect people, so he didn't do it. 
After five more minutes, Sirius finally got up from the bed, walking a little in many directions, nervous about how to explain the fact he needed Remus to offer him moral support while facing the trauma he had thanks to his parents. Not a very light to say. 
"You're okay, Sirius?" Finally, Remus asked, lowering his voice as he spoke, not wanting to bother anyone that was taking an afternoon nap, "You know I'm here for you, right?"
Sirius smiled, taking a deep breath. The crumpled letter found rest in his pocket, where he constantly played with it to distract himself, "Yeah, I know."
Remus nodded and turned back to finish his book, one of his hands tapping the space empty next to him, a sign from Sirius to sit down and maybe relax a little to talk better. He did. He sat and breathed a few times, Remus was taking it all so calm and normal that it made Sirius felt like it was something normal, something he shouldn't be worried about- it helped a lot the attitude the werewolf took to make him comfortable. 
"I need your help with something."
"What is it?" Remus closed the book, leaving it in a nearby coffee table they had to play table games. Sirius glanced at it, it was the third part of the novel the werewolf was reading- Sirius knew it because Remus couldn't stop talking about reading it, he was pretty quiet and sarcastic most of the time, but when it came about his favourite books, he could talk for hours.
"I need you to come with me to my house."
"Your house?"
"The Black family house."
As intuitive and perceptive as Remus was, he definitely didn't catch quickly what the shorter boy meant. He stared at him for a few seconds, wondering if what he heard was correct. 
"...Why? Didn't you run away from there?"
Sirius sighed, "Yes, I did, but-", he stretched out on the couch, trying to look casual, "I forgot something important."
"What?"
"Don't you think you are asking too many questions?"
Remus shrugged, "Well, what you are asking for is not the most normal thing, you know. You ran away from that place, why would you ever come back? and you were planning your escape from months, how did you forget something? it doesn't add up, Sirius."
"Yeah, I knoooow, but," Sirius looked at Remus, shiny eyes to convince him, "I need to go with someone."
"James?"
"Too clumsy and curious."
"Peter?"
"Too afraid."
"...Lily?"
"Oh, c'mon, Remmy."
"Fine", he mumbled while blushing thanks to the nickname, "But you have to tell me the truth."
"What truth?"
"Why do you want to go, because I don't buy any of the I forgot something bullshit."
Sirius got up the couch, ignoring whatever Remus said at the end, "Sounds great! We go tonight." And then he was out of the room, sprinting down the hallways without looking back not even once. Remus rolled his eyes and decided to take a nap, maybe that way the intrusive thought of what the hell Sirius was planning to do would stop bothering him.
The time at Hogwarts was different for every student. The younger ones were amazed by every little magic trick (especially the muggle-born students) and would love attending to their classes, perfect uniform and all the materials in hand. The older ones were... different, Sirius was the perfect example for it when he found himself searching for his favourite quill in an old trunk just minutes before he and Remus would leave the school to go to hell...willingly.
"Forgot something at the last moment again?" Asked Remus teasingly, in three steps he was already hovering over Sirius, analyzing the paper the boy had in his hands, "Is that a map of the house?... and a blank parchment?"
"It does say something, but it isn't important right now."
"You are keeping a lot of secrets lately..."
"Well, I'm not the one that was receiving love letters from a Hufflepuff girl last Monday..."
A huff left the werewolf's mouth, "It's not like we are together... couple kind of together."
"...Do you want to?"
As the words left Sirius's lips, a few voices could be heard walking into the common room, everyone was getting ready to go to sleep. It was the moment to take the invisibility cloak and get going before anyone could notice. They shared a resigned look like telling each other we will talk about it later. Sirius transformed into Padfoot and Remus grabbed the cloak, bending down to let the fabric cover him perfectly. Being tall wasn't that fun when you needed to be subtle.
They left the castle when the moon was already adorning the sky, realizing that a cold and silent night was giving them a not-so-welcoming embrace. They proceeded in silence until they reached Sirius' motorbike that was hiding in the woods. It was a birthday gift from James and of course, it had been intervened with magic. Remus absolutely despised flying in that thing, but he was already involved in the whole thing, wasn't he? the only option was going forward. So he breathed deeply and got on it, his chest against Sirius's back.
"I hope you got over your fear of flying."
"Make it quick or I'm going back to the school."
Did everything resemble a cheesy movie scene? It did. But Remus couldn't deny he felt comfortable as long as he didn't look down, and Sirius was a pretty good driver considering they hadn't died yet. Seeing the two of them like that made the werewolf understand that he was afraid of the word couple, but he wasn't afraid of being with Sirius, it felt natural, almost instinctive. 
If everything went well, maybe someday he was going to tell him he wanted them to be something official, with a name, with kisses shared in the back of the class and holding hands under the table.
"Almost there."
In a matter of seconds (or maybe minutes, being conscious of the time while you were holding onto the person you liked was hard) they were slowly descending into the dry land of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Not a single soul was on the street when they finally touched the ground, and the only people at sight were silhouettes in the windows nearby, most of them doing stuff like watching tv or sleeping cosily in their partner laps.
"Here we are... The Honorary House of Black."
"It 's... dark."
"Yeah, don't expect a lot of bright colours."
As Sirius went up the stairs (wand in hand), his motion was almost automatic. A quick move and some whispered spells opened the door like it was the easiest thing in the world, it was at least for him- he was raised there, he knew all he needed to know about the old place.
"We have to be very quiet, just follow me."
Remus nodded while slowly closing the door and followed Sirius, trying to not get distracted by everything that was going on there. All the walls were decorated with big portraits of the family members, the Slytherin symbol all over the place. 
With each stair they passed, more tense Sirius felt. Tons of memories were coming back at the same time, reminding him that this was probably the last time he would go visit that house, or even get close to it. He didn't miss it, but the melancholy was still there.
One look at the tapestry and you're gone. Just one look, that was it.
"So...what do you think about it?" he asked.
"I don't know what I was expecting... but it wasn't this. You grew up here?"
"When you are a kid everything is a little bit scarier, but I got used to it. Now... It just seems normal."
"There are domestic elf heads on the walls-"
"That is not the worst."
With every portrait they left behind, Sirius started to get more nervous, grasping his wand as if his life was depending on it. Remus didn't have any idea on what to say, so he just stood closer, and when they finally reached the room that made Sirius gasp softly, Remus placed one of his hands on Sirius's shoulders, feeling the tension, "You're okay?"
"Yeah. This is what I wanted to see."
Remus followed the images in the tapestry. It was big and it was clear what it represented, the honour of the family. It had thousands of people the werewolf had never heard Sirius' name before, all of them looked... almost evil.
And where it read "Sirius Black" there was nothing. Just a mark, like as if it had been burned, the name was blurred and it looked like whoever did that did it with resentment.
"She really did that."
Remus arched an eyebrow, "You knew...?"
Maybe it was time for the secret to get out.
"My mom- Walburga sent me a letter a few days after I ran away. It said a bunch of disgusting things, but the most important one was this. She removed me from the tapestry," He muttered as his fingers touched softly the place where his face used to be, "The tapestry is a big symbol in the family, it has been here forever and I will probably be until the end of times. It's... kind of a big deal, so I wanted to confirm she actually did it." 
"How... do you feel about it?"
"Fuck's sake, Remus... I don't know. I never thought this would really happen, my whole identity was being a part of this atrocious family. I don't know who I am without the Black last name."
"You are better," He assured, now his both hands exerting pressure on the shoulders of the shorter boy, "You don't need a recognized last name to be something in life. You are you, and that's enough."
Sirius mumbled a thankful "you're the best" at Remus and took out the blank parchment he had before from his pocket, analyzing. 
"What is that for?" The werewolf tried to see something on the parchment, but it was still empty.
"Who is that for. Is for Regulus, he always comes here to see the tapestry."
Sirius placed the parchment on where his face used to be, sticking it with a spell, "He is going to read it before she can, I know it. And is going to make him hate me, because if he doesn't he is going to lose his mind here."
"Sirius..."
"I don't have a family anymore... well, maybe I never had one to start with, it's not a joyful feeling to be completely honest, but it's okay."
"You have us, we are your family." 
And we will forever be.
“Just… no more secrets.” “I promise.”
100 notes · View notes
disneydreamlights · 3 years
Text
To the Future
AO3 | FFN
Summary: Namine's invited for a girls day out in Twilight Town.
A/N: Written for @naminezine who I cannot thank enough for this experience. If they do a leftover sale you guys should definitely pick up a copy.
The irony is not lost on me that it's Star Wars day and the fic I'm publishing is not Star Wars but this has been in my backlog for months and I'm so glad I can finally share it!
Naminé was still more than a little nervous about following Kairi to Twilight Town today. Today had been the day she was finally allowed to leave Radiant Garden to go explore the other worlds, and Kairi had insisted that to mark the occasion, she’d get to visit Twilight Town and meet the friends who had helped them on her journey.
As Kairi stopped in front of the Usual Spot (Naminé knew it, she’d helped design it in the Virtual Twilight Town for Roxas after all), she put a hand on Naminé’s shoulder. The fact that they were both born from the same heart had left them connected, and it was likely she knew that Naminé was much more nervous than she’d let on. “Don’t worry, Naminé. It’ll be fine, we’re starting small, and they’re both friends with Roxas too.”
“I know.” The small reassurance from Kairi did wonders, and Naminé followed after her into the small hidden room in the alley of Twilight Town.
“Kairi! You’re here!” Despite the fact that they’d never met, Naminé recognized Olette easily from the memories she’d had to create such a long time ago. “Oh, is this the friend you said you’d be bringing?”
Kairi nodded. “This is Naminé, we just recently finished the replica to help her get a body of her own.” It made sense Kairi wasn’t bothering to protect the World Order, then again, Twilight Town was a strange world to begin with. “Naminé, this is Olette. And that’s—”
Naminé watched as the other girl in the room stood up from the armrest she was sitting on with a smile. “It’s nice to see you again, Naminé.”
“You two already know each other?” Kairi tilted her head slightly, not to Naminé’s surprise. Kairi knew with the exception of Riku and DiZ, she had spent most of her year alive alone.
Naminé, however, simply nodded in response. “Once, a long time ago.” She didn’t elaborate, now wasn’t the time to talk about what had gone down during the year Sora had been asleep. “I’m glad to see you again too.” Xion’s fate had been something that had never sat well with her. Knowing she got a happier end, that was what mattered.
“Well, if I’m the only one here who isn’t your friend yet, that just won’t do,” Olette smiled at Naminé, who was surprised by her kindness. “I guess we’ll just have to become friends today.”
And just like that, Naminé smiled, feeling at ease among the two girls who welcomed her so easily to their day together.
-x-
It turned out, when Kairi had invited her to a girl’s day, it had been planned specifically with Naminé in mind. “So I think the first thing we really need to do is get you a new outfit,” Kairi smiled, leading the girls into a small clothing shop in the main street of Twilight Town.
“What’s wrong with what I have now?” It wasn’t that she didn’t understand the concept; the white dress and others like it was all she’d ever worn—it was comfortable, a part of her.
“You were wearing it while I was still in the Organization,” Xion pointed out. Naminé couldn’t argue about that, though she still wasn’t sure she understood.
Olette looked at her in a bit of surprise. “You’ve been wearing the same outfit that long, with no other options?”
“I didn’t have a choice,” despite having been fine with it earlier, Naminé found herself self-conscious at the fact that the girls were so surprised by that fact.
“It’s not a bad thing, but Xion said you guys had met before, right?” Olette pointed out, waiting for Naminé to nod before continuing. “Well, if you two had met during that time, it probably wasn’t in the best of circumstances, and sometimes, changing what you’re wearing can help you feel like you have control over what happened, changing anything can.”
Unsure if what Olette was saying was true, Naminé turned to Kairi for confirmation. “It’s the main reason I wanted you to join us today. The reason Riku cut his hair after coming home was to feel like he had control after everything that had happened, and to show that he had changed.” Naminé nodded, she did remember that his hair had been longer when they’d worked together to save Sora than it was currently. “Right now, cutting your hair seems like it’d be a bit of an extreme to do, but changing your outfit would still be a good start.”
Naminé sighed, willing to accept it for now, at least while they were shopping and supposed to be having a good time. “I understand.”
“Great, then in that case, let’s get started!” Olette immediately dove into the racks, looking for something in Naminé’s size, Kairi following behind her eagerly, although with a reassuring smile, probably sensing how nervous Naminé felt at the idea.
It was Xion who stayed behind while the other girls looked. “I know you’re nervous about it, I was too,” she indicated her new clothes. The black top and white skirt looking like they belonged on her. “You don’t have to even wear anything they buy you today.” And they would, both of the girls were sure of that. “Just keep an open mind. If you’re not ready, none of us will force you to change it right away.”
Naminé gave Xion a small smile in appreciation. “Thank you.”
Before the dark-haired girl could continue to offer reassurance, Olette came back over with an outfit. “How about this one!” It was a dress, not far off from her current one, which Naminé couldn’t help but find relieving in its own way. The dress remained plain white until it got to the skirt, in which a small blue pattern embroidered the bottom, looking like the ocean’s waves.
Naminé looked it over once. “It looks nice.”
“Then come on, go try it on!” And with that Naminé had been shoved into a fitting room by Olette to try it on. She emerged moments later in the dress to approving smiles from the three other girls she was with. While Xion had remained in her normal outfit, Kairi and Olette were both trying on different outfits, although given that Kairi’s was a neon yellow she wasn’t sure if either of them were as serious about it for themselves as they were for her.
“I knew it’d fit!” Olette was grinning, clearly proud of herself for finding a good outfit.
Kairi was just as happy. “You look great.”
And Naminé smiled. “Thank you.”
Maybe this whole new clothes thing wouldn’t be so bad after all.
-x-
Two hours later, three stores, and ten new outfits purchased, the girls had finally decided they’d had enough of shopping and had returned to the main plaza in the shadow of the clocktower for an ice cream break. Olette came over with the four light blue bars with a smile, spreading them out like a hand of cards. “Here.”
Kairi and Xion both grabbed a treat immediately, unwrapping the bars. Naminé grabbed hers, although was a bit more hesitant in her unwrapping. “Thank you.”
“You’ve never had sea salt ice cream before?” Xion asked, her confusion evident in her voice. Xion was the only one who knew she’d been in Twilight Town before.
Naminé shook her head. “DiZ never brought it for us.”
“It’s good,” Xion took a bite out of the bar, which Naminé shuddered as she watched, just imagining how unpleasant the cold on her teeth would be.
“Don’t feel bad about being disturbed by how Xion eats her ice cream. There are other ways.” Kairi seemed to demonstrate, rather than biting into the bar she licked it.
“Yeah, the rest of us don’t eat our ice cream as though we have no sense,” Olette grinned, clearly teasing Xion, who pouted as a result.
“There’s nothing wrong with how I eat it, Axel and Roxas eat it that way too.”
“Lea and Roxas are not the standards you should be going by,” Kairi pointed out. “They eat their ice cream badly too.”
“Roxas really bites into his ice cream?” Olette looked shocked. “That’s terrible, didn’t the virtual version of Hayner, Pence, and I teach him anything?”
As the other girls continued their bickering, Naminé took a small bit of the ice cream, deciding to try it the same way Xion did and savoring the salty, yet sweet taste of the bar.
Kairi stared. “Oh no, Naminé not you too! Don’t tell me you’re embracing Xion’s cursed ways of eating ice cream.”
“So what if she is?” Xion defended herself. “It’s a good way, right Naminé?”
Naminé nodded in agreement, taking another bite. It was cold, but not unbearable, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “It is, the cold isn’t so bad.”
Letting go of the ice cream eating bit with that comment, each one of them resumed eating their frozen treat—laughing the rest of the day.
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yolkyeomie · 4 years
Text
Iced Americano | lee jeno
summary — you don’t even like coffee anymore, so why do you have an iced americano in your hands now?
word count — 2k words
pairing — jeno x gender neutral!reader
genre — coffee shop + college au, my sad attempt at humor but really it’s just me kinda losing my mind in the middle of writing this
disclaimer — this was originally made for a close friend of mine so reader is heavily based off of her! also ignore any and all typos thank you
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You'd like to say you’re rather good at talking to people
Sure you may have a rather small friend group, but still
The size of your friend group doesn’t equate to how good at socializing you are
Besides !!!
Everyone finds it really easy to approach you and you're really kind back to them !!
That is if they come to you with the right attitude
So it’s not hard to say you’re known very well throughout the campus of ur university
I mean you’re not like POPULAR POPULAR but you’re nice attitude makes people just gravitate towards you a lot
And you liked that!! The attention made you feel validated and loved
was today one of those days where everyone is just super nice to you?
Yeah !!
haha no it wasn’t really
you tolerate a lot of stuff okay
You juggle a lot of responsibilities on your back while still trying to keep in touch with your friends so they don’t feel like you’ve abandoned them or something
but it was REALLY hard tryna keep up with everything
especially when your close friend group was full of boys who didn’t know the exact meaning of organization
trying to keep them situated before they went and burned themselves out was HARD
and then trying to manage yourself at the same time??
sometimes you were ready to throw yourself off the top of fifty story building
and unfortunately for you
today was just one of those days
thankfully it wasn’t because your friends are a genuine mess but
Uni is HARD
as a college student you must put up with a lot of… stuff
I mean some professors can be,,,,, UNKIND to say the least
But usually they were rather lenient and understanding !!
Except for this one. professor.
They always seemed like they were on the verge of losing their mind
And toda must have been the perfect day for them to do that
because your professors summoned the LITERAL devil from within to torture everyon in your clas
But especially you
so let’s just say you’ve been scolded a lot and given wayyyy too much work for no absolute reason
you’re about this close to bashing your head against the wall but you gotta hang on
YOU'RE NOT IN COLLEGE FOR NOTHING AFTER ALL!!!
so you find yourself absently complaining about how much work you have to do today and your friends are like
“That’s tough,,, I’m so sorry [y/n]”
what else can they say really??? they aren’t in your major and they can’t really understand your struggles even tho they wish they could
Well scratch that
they don’t want to understand because that’s ANOTHER work load of information that would constantly be rattling in their heads
Haechan had decided to become a computer engineer when he decided to pick up a major, so his brain was just always fried
Jisung was still trying decide what he wanted to go into and chenle was very serious about becoming a business just so he could accumulate as much money as he possibly could
You always forget what Jaemin had decided to major in, but it wasn’t very interesting to you in the first place
And renjun had decided to major in some form of art, the easier out the four majors mentioned before
Or at least you thought they were easy
Either way TRUST AND BELIEVE if jaemin knew just a little about your major and was able to witness the unfairness in front of him
he’d probably get expelled
anyways renjun had noticed you just getting ready to cry in the corner about how overworked you were
and for once in his life decided to try and help out, not with work tho
why would he ever help with work
“do you want something to eat??? Maybe drink??? I know this place near us that we can go to”
“Thank you so much I’d love to eat and drink and pass out and do nothing about this work when I get home”
yes that’s exactly what you wanted to and nothing was about to stop you
anyways you two were hanging out with each other either way, so it worked very well in ur opinion
You walking down this street towards some restaurants and stores while you were chatting
trying to decide where you wanted to settle down and rest like renjun has suggested
but you uh
notice something strange
you’re passing all the places you usually like to eat at because
renjun kept saying no?
he didn’t want to go to ANY of your usual hangout spots?????
WHY IS RENJUN PASSING ALL YOUR HANGOUT SPOTS??
They were hangout spots for REASON.
good atmosphere, good food, nice people??? they’reperfect !!
so why was he declining every single one of them???
“Hey renjun,,,, where are we going”
“?? To get something to eat and drink??????”
“No like WHERE ARE WE GOING?????”
“TO GET SOMETHING TO EAT AND DRINK WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN???????????”
you two started getting into a small argument, you being annoyed that he was declining every suggestion you through and him being annoyed that you kept question his choices
that was, until he finally stopped
“Oh perfect!! we’re here!!”
You turned to look at him and find that he’s standing in front,,,
,,,, a coffee shop
COFFEE shop????
you’re more of a SODA WATER TEA JUICE ANYTHING BUT COFFEE PERSON
well your parents drink coffee and all no doubt
and when you were a kid you used to drink coffee ALL OF THE TIME
you always had to get your own cup because you’d drink all of your parents’ under ten mins
but uh as you got older
it started to taste
worst?
you started to lose the taste for coffee as you got older and it was just downhill from there
*one sip* “THATSHS HORRIAVKE”
it really surprised your parents
and jaemin
but no one ever wants to drink jaemin’s coffee
please you watched renjun and haechan almost DIE from drinking it, coffee and choking and everything
when jaemin asked jisung to try it as a joke he bursted into tears
when chenle was presented the opportunity he cash apped him money and ran for it
please you almost PUNCHED jaemin for even thinking of making you try it
maybe it’s partly jaemin’s fault you can’t drink coffee anymore
“renjun uh,,,,, I don’t want coffee,,,?? You know I don’t drink that stuff. do they have like anything but that”
“yeah they have coffee coffee and coffee”
“literally,,, you’re the worst”
“No thanks :D”
yeah so you got dragged into the coffee shop
it wasn’t vsco girl Starbucks level inside
it was really small
only a couple of tables scattered about with white cloth covering them and little lights strung up along the walls to make the ambience of the room nice and cozy
There was a small chalkboard menu on the counter as well, with the day’s special and little drawings of flowers and animals around the words.
it was really cute you can’t lie
There was an even larger menu behind the really cute cashier at the cash register that detailed all of the drinks they sold as well
there was also— wait what
back track back track THERE'S A REALLY CUTE CASHIER AT THE CASH REGISTER
PAUSE BECAUSE YOU'RE ENTIRE BODY F R O Z E ON THE SPOT
“[y/n] you there”
“[y/n]?”
“[y/n] move you're blocking the door”
listen you’re not HORRIBLE at communication, it was definitely one of your strong suits in life
But this???
You were practically malfunctioning at this point
seriously you felt like you were in a romance show
you made eye contact with him and nearly tripped over your own two feet
how did you fall so head over heels for this guy so quickly???? He hadn’t even said a WORD
“Can I take your order?”
“Can you what?”
oh god oh god OH GOD HES TALKING TO YOU
wait he’s supposed to do that it’s his job
your eyes looked down towards the name tag pinned onto the apron he wore
lee jeno
wow… you could say his name for hours and never get tired of it
renjun is just kinda,,,, staring at you to get a move on
oh no did he already order
DID HE ALREADY ORDER WHILE YOU WERE ZONING OUT
NO YOU ARE NOT READY WAIT
WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO?? YOU DONT EVEN LIKE COFFEE
“excuse me? are you ready to order?”
he gave you an amused smile and god it felt like the sun was shining down on you
Jeno was getting more ethereal with every word that came out of his mouth
but you couldn’t keep him waiting you were embarrassing yourself
you stared at the board above him and just blurted out whatever you saw first
“I-I I’ll have a uh iced americano…”
What's even in americanos?????
you hoped it wasn’t gross,,,
if it was it would REALLY awkward having to ask for a bunch of sugar packets to sweeten it
but then jeno smiled at you
“okay! can I have your name please?”
“,,, uh [y/n]”
“[y/n].... what a pretty name for a pretty person”
please god you are about to explode
HE CALLED YOUR NAME PRETTY AND YOU P R E T T Y AT THE SAME TIME??
anyways you’re losing your mind if you can’t tell
and renjun thinks your brain might be on emergency mode right now
and that’s not what youneed is it now?
so he decided to save you the embarrassment and pay for the drinks himself and push you towards one of the tables
you’re seated away from jeno so that you don’t melt into a little puddle if he catches you staring
which you did a lot more then you’d like to admit
“okay so he’s definitely flirting with you”
“AND THAT'S SUPPOSED TO MAKE ME FEEL BETTER???”
“uh yeah? you’re supposed to feel better after knowing someone is genuinely flirting with you”
“RENJUN.”
you love renjun but rn you wanna punch him because HNG YOU DON'T KNOW BOW TO HANDLE THIS RIGHT NOW
“please let’s not think about this right—“
“He’s staring at you”
“He’s WHAT”
please renjun is laughing so hard this is incredibly funny to you
no he wasn’t looking at you he was making someone’s coffee
perhaps your coffee???
or whatever the HELL renjun has ordered
but you saw jeno stop for a moment and glance at you
and the minute he realized you were looking at him too he started BEAMING
LIKE HE WAS OUTSHINING THE SUN
“RENJUN RENJUN RENJUN RENJUN—“
“I’m right here calm down”
“Miss [y/n]?”
PAUSE PAUSE PAUSE
your name sounds really nice coming from him
how did you not notice that before !!!!
“[y/n] your Americano“
“RIGHT”
you move like a robot over to jeno
are you so nervous???? AND YOU'LL PROBABLY NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN
UGH LIFE IS CRUEL
He’s all smiley and giving you the SWEETEST SMILE and jeno’s like “your americano !! I hope you enjoy it, I made it with a lot of love !!
someone send help right now
he made yours with a lot of LOVE
“ ahh !! Thank you!!!”
“I advise you to not drink americanos tho,,, they don’t suit you”
???? what does that mean
“You should try our caffe mocha, it’s sweeter than what you’re drinking now. Just like you !! I’m jeno btw”
YOU SLY BASTARD
I c what u did there
“AHHHHHH THANKS ??? I UH IM [Y/N] NICE TO MEET YOU”
you’re so stupid he already knows your name
well you already know his name you were staring at his name tag
but you’re having a sensory overload so it’s okay
renjun snickers from the back, tho highkey realizing he hasn’t received HIS DRINK YET AND MIGHT THROW A FIT
though eventually he got his drink so he was happy then, tho still a little annoyed with how love struck you were with jeno
you did have to drag him out of the coffee shop because he was going to make a complaint flirting cuz he was getting tired of it
oh and you?
After a few (many) visits you can say you definitely like caffe mochas now
but you did keep getting iced americanos every time you visited
the sweet boy who makes them the drinks always makes yours with lots of love
39 notes · View notes
grokebaby · 4 years
Text
What's back home?
Katherine got up at 6:05. She always got up first. And most always at the same time. She got into her slippers and made her way to the kitchen, turning on the coffeemaker. It started working a cup with a conveniently quiet Humm. She took out her sugar free yogurt and organic fruits and started putting them in the bowl in an aesthetically pleasing order. After setting the bowl down on the table with a fresh cup of black coffee, she voice commanded the radio on her favourite channel and began doing her morning exercises. It was all the same routine she'd been doing since turning 20. And her body simply couldn't start up without a good exercise and a stretching.
Her husband Gerald slept for another hour until finally crawling out of the bedroom. "Good morning dear", Katherine said in a neutral tone, reading an e-book she'd started earlier that week. Her breakfast table-ware had already been run under the tap and put in the sink neatly. "Mornin' honey. News!" Gerald responded, opening the fridge. Their radio switched to the news channel as Gerald put last night's lasagna in the microwave. "Don't yell at the radio", Katherine quipped over the noise of the empire's latest happenings. "I didn't" Gerald responded. "You just did." his wife pushed back, not even lifting her head from her reading. "It runs on voice command Katey, I just commanded it" Gerald explained drowsily, pulling up his boxers. "The AI doesn't need to be convinced of your authority to do it's job honey" Katherine notified half seriously. The microwave made a little ping, opening the door to a lukewarm plate of lasagna. Gerald took a fork and sat in the matching armchair next to his wife's. "Katey I love you but we have this same conversation literally every morning." He sighed, taking a forkful of food.
"No we don't. Not literally. I love you too Gerry" Katherine retorted, adding the nickname most likely out of some frustrating way to get back at him. He snorted in amusement, sharing a look with the woman. There was still the same warmth under an ever thinning layer of self centered dignity. She continued reading. But they did have this same conversation yesterday..
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Kalvin was forced to take a standing spot in the train again. He was fortunately used to standing around by this point in his life, since his job included alot of walking anyway. He looked out the window as the tubular vehicle slid up the tracks, above the ground level traffic. A person he usually didn't think about popped up in his mind. It was in the form of a childhood memory, probably brought on by two small children running into a store. He and Luke used to shoplift every now and then. They'd see a cool train set in the window, or a packet of muffins in the aisle, and immediately get the same idea. Sharing a brain cell stayed with them for years after the orphanage, even after their little brother circle was broken. One of them would always distract the employees either by asking incessant questions about a random product, pretend to buy something, or fake an injury. Or sometimes get an actual injury. Luke was a clumsy kitten.
He smiled a little, catching his tail wagging subconsciously. It stopped once he acknowledged it. His mind swam to a more recent memory of his brother. Frustrated growls and tense tail flicking. He remembered how astounded he was upon hearing what Luke actually did for a living.. "Oh cmon, we used to do vigilant-y stuff all the time! What's so shocking here?" Luke'd said. Kalvin tried to list all the legal and physical trouble his brother would be in, if anything were to happen.
"It's secret, Kalvin! We hide our traces! Obviously!"
That wasn't explanation enough. They eventually ended the discussion. For that evening at least. But it was the start of many more arguments. Not that it was the only subject of discourse. His brain skipped to the part where Kalvin was done packing his belongings into the van, gotten in himself and looked to his brother. They shared eye contact. It was cold. It hurt. It didn't lessen his anger. The next time he saw his brother was on the news. A mugshot. A crazy headline. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream "I told you so!" to his brother's face. He couldn't.
The train smoothly slid to a stop, intercom announcing where they were now. Kalvin was shaken out of his reflections. He stepped out.
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Ash groaned and decided to finally give studying a rest. He'd been reading the same paragraph over and over again, not really digesting any of it. He sighed heavily and stared at the screen for a few seconds, blankly. After spacing out for a solid minute, he simply shook his head and got up to fetch himself ice tea from the fridge. There wasn't much else in there. He strolled into the livingroom, wanting to get away from what his brain considered "Studying space". The tea was kinda stale but the coldness of it refreshed him a little, relaxing his body.
He glanced at the clock, only to notice it was afternoon already. He smiled a little at the timing of his tea - his mother would be doing the same back home right about now. He should call her. He texts her regularly but the poor woman only takes the time to write in the evenings, right before bed, as she's scrolling her phone for one last reality check. She'd definitely appreciate the call. Everything's on voice command back there anyways.
He had her number on quick dial, and the phone was ringing in a second. She took a bit to pick up, but soon enough an old woman spoke from the other end. "Yes dear?" Ash swallowed. He way preferred non-instant methods of communication - talking directly to someone was so easy to mess up.
"Hi mom. What's up? I just uhh.. Took an ice tea from the fridge and thought of you, I guess." he said into the phone. "Oh, I was just putting on my own tea right here, right - right about now. It's boiling. But it'll come fast for sure." she stuttered back. "Yeah, that's why -.." Ash started before being cut off. "Yes how's studying dear? You um, you had that big exam coming up." Ash stifled a sigh. He definitely wasn't in the mood to get right back to this topic again. "Yeah.. Yeah I was just taking a little break here. There's alot of material to.. you know, take in."
The rest of the call consisted of small talk and affirming to his mom that yes, he does indeed still live by the basic standards of hygiene, and that yes, his friends at school are doing good but are just busy. He eventually hung up.
Could've gone worse. He let his thoughts wonder for the time it took him to finish the ice tea, after which he begrudgingly returned to his materials again
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Amalia turned off the TV. The news always gave her anxiety. Something bad always happened, either on the news or whenever someone was watching them. If it was something she really had to know, it would surely come to her knowledge some other way.
She got up to make herself cocoa. Knowing Colin would be coming home from football practice around this time, she prepared two cups.
Out the window she could see the local neighbourhood. It wasn't the fanciest one, but she'd gotten comfortable in it by now. It was already dark out, and most work-going people would be inside. Only a few people floated by, illuminated by the street lights. A group of youngsters on their way to the pub. Elderly people going to the store last minute to get something they just remembered. Late-night workers picking up trash. A band of strangers lurking behind the corner.
Something about that didn't sit right with her.
She looked away, afraid they'd notice her at the window. Pulling the curtain, she dared quick glances every few minutes. About three or four people, waiting around for something. Nobody hung out for fun in spots like these. They were talking with each other, although probably not pleasantries. Most of them wore sizeable coats, and the ones that didn't had stuff to carry. Her palms dampened with sweat and she looked away again, trying not to focus on whatever thoughts seeing them originally brought up.
Her cocoa got cold as she forgot to drink it.
Memories tried to push up to the surface. Of large groups of strangers surrounding her. Being held against a cold brick wall. Manhandling. Her claws slid out, pushing against the wooden table. She'd managed to tear into a cloth, or perhaps an ear with them in the past. She wanted to avoid conflict at all costs. The house around her felt too empty. Cold. The stinging phantom smell of alcohol and blood slid up her nostril
The door opened and shut. "Evening! I smell cocoa!" Colin meowed from the entryway. He quickly threw his coat to the rack and peeked his head into the kitchen. Amalia blinked and tried to shake the anxiety away. She picked her claws off the table subtly enough to seem casual, and smiled to the young tom. She took a breath and started purring. "Oh, yes. I put your cup on the table right here. Go wash up first sweetie". He was always a bit ruffled up after practice, considering what kind of sport football was like. Amalia found it a bit too intense and always worried about Colin getting hurt amongst the kicking and tackling. "Yes ma'am", he trilled, making his way to the bathroom. Once he was out of sight, she glanced out the window again. The group had left.
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Stella changed her reading position. Judging by the neckpain and the heaviness of her eyelids, she'd probably have to put away her book soon. And she decided to do it now before she got lost in the charmingly papery pages of her vintage reading. She tucked it on it's designated place on the shelf, right between two other books. She was very happy with the collection she'd amassed thus far.
She stretched, mind still swimming in the mythical stories of old. She absently looked out the window. It was dark, except for her reading light. The house was quiet. She knew she had places to be tomorrow morning, but didn't feel like being there just yet. She wanted to savor the rare moments of peace and freedom that, unfortunately, mostly happened during the late hours. Her eyes, as if on instinct, looked for the moon. She remembers going outside every day for weeks on end, just to look at it with a periscope. It had offered her some semblance of comfort, getting to see where her brother was kept. She knew it was virtually impossible to go see him in person. The phone calls around New years were always emotional.
She didn't see it. Must've been the time of month. She decided not to devote any brain power to worrying, and just sat there. No stars were visible through the light pollution, but that wasn't new.
She slowly and begrudgingly changed into her pajamas and sat on her bed. Jeremy was also a night owl, wasn't he? He'd always be fixated on something random, like cleaning some closet in his room, or looking up monster sightings in their area, or how toffee was made. She smiled a little, though it was gone in a second as longing pricked her chest. For the thousandth time she went through all the thoughts of denial and disbelief. Ones like "He's such a sweet guy, he wouldn't just straight up kill a person", "There's no way he got into a guarded building unassisted. What if it was staged?", or "Where did he even get a farmer's stunner that strong, they're only available in very specific, company oriented businesses". She swiped the thoughts away and forcibly tucked herself to bed. She'd cried enough over it, and decided to let life be as it was right now, whether she liked it or not.
Things don't always work out how you want them to
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toothlessturtle21 · 4 years
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Cold Blooded
So as some of y’all know, I’m a fanfic author, so I figured why not publish some of my oneshots on Tumblr? So, here’s the first one in a (maybe) series of oneshots being posted. Enjoy!
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Jay's talking gets him into a lot of trouble, sure, but when he's faced with a mob boss who wants to work with him to resurrect his dead father, his chatter might be his only weapon. (Mafia AU) (tw: kidnapping, guns, mentioned death)
All of his life, Jay had been told that his excessive blabbering was annoying. His friends and his family were not safe from the chatter, everywhere and all the time. And god forbid  that he was nervous, because butterflies in his stomach seemed to equate to words spewing from his mouth like a fountain. So when he found himself tied up and blindfolded after a nasty run-in with some gang members, what else was he supposed to do?
"So, uh, what kind of wood is the chair I'm in made of? It feels pretty strong, but I also can't see the color to make any guesses," Jay quirked his mouth, and one of the men nearby grumbled, having put up with his incessant rambling for the better part of the hour. "Is it grainy? I can't really tell through my pants, but if it is you guys should really sand it. Splinters are no joke, even if you're wearing gloves. They always wait until you're least expecting it and then ouch, there's wood in your hand."
His company was silent, perhaps hoping that he would shut up if left unanswered. After a few beats of silence, Jay tapped his feet on the floor, an uneven rhythm that was in no way musical. He tried to think of some beat to mimic that would take his mind off of his situation. He hummed some jingles, some pop songs, and even snuck a little bit of some showtunes in there before a harsh slap to the cheek stopped him, causing Jay to cry out indignantly.
"Hey, I'm just messing around! What's the big deal anyway? You guys are the ones who nabbed me off the street, why should I listen to- mmph!"
A hand was slapped over his mouth very quickly, accompanied by a sharp shh. For once, Jay decided to listen, and heard another man in the room on the phone.
"Please sir, he's driving us insane, can't we just..."
Silence for a few minutes. Jay's heart raced at the thought of there being a man higher up waiting to get his hands on him, despite his current situation already being pretty undesirable.
"Wait, really?"
Muffled words from the other side of the line were audible now, and the man with him laughed a little, obviously relieved.
"Thank you, boss! We'll get him to you right away."
And just like that, Jay was in the air, the chair he was tied to lifted by some thug, and he squawked in surprise as he was gripped roughly by strong hands, the grunts talking amongst themselves as they brought him along. Finally, they stopped, and set him down onto a tile floor, judging by the sound of the legs hitting the ground. One ripped off his blindfold, and they immediately scurried away, leaving Jay to blink his eyes like a newborn kitten to adjust to the light.
"Ah, so you're the famed Ninja of Lightning. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Walker."
Jay finally found his sight, and discovered he was in an office, of sorts. The walls were a circle, bookshelves lining the room, except for the one area where a cabinet full of guns stood. The furniture was elegant, smooth curves and a sleek black sheen to everything made for a very intimidating look.
What was even more intimidating, however, was the figure perched on top of the desk at the far back. He looked to be young, black leather clothes contrasting with his stark white hair, combed back into a feathery undercut. Clear blue eyes stared the ninja down, and Jay felt his skin crawl under the scrutiny.
"Oh, don't tell me they harmed your vocal chords on the journey over, I've heard so much about your jabber," The man slid off the desk, striding over with quiet steps. Now that Jay was closer, he was quite tall, most definitely taller than himself.
"No, they didn't," He managed to squeak out, clearing his throat afterwards. "And how do you know my name?"
"I know a lot of things," The man shrugged. "For example, I know that you were born and raised in a trash heap, your favorite food is blackberry pie, and your name is James."
"If you know so much about me," Jay's cheeks burned from hearing his birth name and from the insult towards his parents' livelihood. "Then who are you?"
The man thought for a moment before answering, almost as if questioning himself. He seemed to finally decide on an answer after a few tense moments.
"Call me Snake."
"No offense, but you don't really don't look like a Snake," Jay blurted, and the man raised an eyebrow in amusement. "I mean, you have a pretty blue, black, white color scheme going on, and snakes are usually green. You seem more like an Spider or Shark to me than a Snake. You don't give me slimy vibes."
"Thank you for the feedback," Snake nodded, stepping back a little. "I suppose I will keep that in mind for the next time I have to choose a persona to give to strangers."
"Was that a joke I heard?" Jay asked, and Snake's expression never wavered. The blonde looked at his gun cabinet for a split second before returning his gaze to his hostage.
"So, Mr. Walker, it has come to my attention that you are especially skilled in robotics, correct?"
"I mean, yeah, but-"
"What do you normally create?"
"Small robots, mostly. Y'know, can sweep things, stack bricks, charge phones, and..." Jay trailed off, mentally slapping himself. "Actually, it's none of your business what I do. You're the one who organized my kidnapping, I'm not telling you anything!"
"Hm, just as we were doing so swimmingly. Very well then," Snake walked away, returning to his desk. He once again avoided the chair, choosing to stalk Jay from his desk like a bird of prey.
"Also, consider changing your name to Falcon. Still fits better than Snake."
"I thought we had moved on from my name, James," Snake smiled amusedly. "Although Falcon does have a nice ring to it, thank you. Perhaps I will keep that one in mind."
He pulled his legs up, crossing them on his desk. It was then that Jay noticed the portrait sitting next to his knee.
"Hey, who's in the picture?"
Snake's expression darkened, and Jay's heart picked up once more at the thought of his last words being so lame.
"Perhaps you don't understand your situation. You are in no position to be asking questions, especially ones about my personal life. As far as guests go, you have been treated rather graciously, Mr. Walker. Although I do consider myself rather forgiving in the face of insubordination, I too have a limit."
Jay went quiet, at least for a few moments, but a sudden bird cry followed by a black shape swooping past his face made him shriek, and Snake laughed at his expense. He held out his arm as a black bird rested on him, and Snake gently took the note from its mouth.
"You really are quite entertaining. I might keep you just for that."
"Usually my jokes are a little more thought out than- wait, what do you mean by keep-"
"Hush, I am trying to read, James. Do be polite."
You could hear a pin drop as the man read, cool blues scanning the page. He bristled as he hit the bulk of the letter, presumably receiving bad news.
Snake scoffed, and snatched a lighter from beside him on the desk. He lit the flame, and held it up to the paper.
"Burning letters is so much safer than texting, wouldn't you agree? Plus, fire can be oh so fun to play with if done properly."
"I'm not really a big fan of fire. I guess I just don't like heat."
"I would be inclined to agree. Ice is often much more effective, anyway. It is a silent killer, with much less destruction than fire."
"Um, killer?"
"I run an organized crime ring, do you think I reached where I am by playing nice and holding hands?"
"How did you weaponize ice?" Jay asked, and then quickly backpedaled. "Uh, sorry, no questions, I'll stop."
"There are many ways, but I will indulge you with my personal favorite," Snake released his bird, the avian flying out the small window it had come in from, and stalked towards Jay. He touched a gentle hand to his bound arm, and Jay felt his breath quicken at the contact.
"I am the master of ice. Blood is half water. If I were to concentrate right now, I could freeze your veins and arteries, leaving you stiff like a doll. My ice does not melt easily, and so it creates a wonderful display if presented properly. Of course, the victim would need to be positioned correctly, but that is beside the point."
"You're sick," Jay strained against his bonds, suddenly comprehending the danger he was in. "Is killing people a game to you?"
"Not necessarily. If I kill by necessity, then deaths are quick and painless. If they have wronged me greatly, however, I enjoy watching them writhe to the best of their ability as they feel their blood freeze under my grasp."
"Then why am I here? I haven't wronged you, as far as I know, and I'm not already dead. What do you want from me?"
"I want your expertise. I am interested in your abilities. You are skilled at creating artificial life, James. While I have trained myself in many areas, capturing the essence of a living being is something I've yet to grasp."
All of a sudden, the puzzle pieces clicked in Jay's head. The color scheme, the white hair, the obsession with birds and robotics, and the ice all suddenly brought back memories that Jay forgot that he had.
"...Zane?"
The blonde smiled sadly, and then let out a small, hollow laugh.
"Ah, so you do remember. It's been a while, I know."
"Yeah, since we were toddlers."
"Are your parents well?"
"As far as I know, yeah, they're pretty good. How about your dad?"
Zane scowled, resting his chin on his hand.
"Dead. Killed in one of your little endeavors fighting Garmadon. Tasteless, really. My father deserved a death more fitting of the great mind he was than rubble crushing his body."
"I'm so sorry," Jay bit his lip, dread filling his bones. "So, uh, you're a gang leader now?"
"In a way, yes. I was already rising to power when he died, and his passing only drove me further. And now we are here," Zane gestured to the Lightning Ninja, still tied up. Jay's fingers twitched from their bound position.
"So why didn't you tell me your name off the bat?"
"What would be the point in that? None of the men under me know my name, so why I would I tell a stranger?"
"Fair, I guess. So why am I here?"
"Considering that you killed my father, I feel it is only right that you bring him back too."
"I'm the master of lightning, not a necromancer!" Jay writhed in his bonds. "And I haven't killed anyone. You're insane!"
"I'm not insane, I'm insulted you would think that way," Zane frowned. "You recall how I told you that my ice was especially cold, correct?"
"Yeah? What's that got to do with anything?"
"I have his body frozen downstairs. My ice takes an incredibly long time to melt."
"You what?" Jay shrieked. "I'm going nowhere near a frozen corpse!"
"You won't need to," Zane reassured, although his tone was anything but lenient. "I have brought you here for your mechanical skill. Together, we can bring my father back to life."
"And if I say no?"
"I have a cabinet full of guns to my side as well as the power to freeze your blood, and you're tied up at my mercy. We may have met in our earlier years, but familiarity has never stopped me from killing before."
"Uh, okay, noted," Jay said hurriedly, annoyed at himself for forgetting his situation. "So you want me to help you bring your father back to life by building him a body? But what about his memory?"
"You leave the software to me. You're here for the hardware."
"Ok, ok," Jay nodded slowly, although his mind was going a mile a minute trying to figure out how to escape. "Can you untie me though? I can't exactly build if I'm stuck here."
"You just called me insane and have been nothing but resistant this whole time. Why would I let you roam?" Zane sneered, crossing his arms. "However, I can release you to some extent, since you will be working for me."
And with that Zane untied and retied him so that his hands were still bound, but had enough wiggle room to work. Zane kept a length of rope knotted around the middle, to prevent the Lightning Ninja from breaking away.
Jay's cheeks burned at the thought of being led around like some pet, although he supposed his captivity could have been more humiliating. At least Zane was holding him by the wrists and not by some borderline kinky rope collar.
"What, don't like it?" The blonde laughed genuinely, albeit a little cruelly. He glanced over Jay, almost as if reading his mind. "I could change the positioning, if you'd rather. I was trying to spare you some dignity."
"No, it's fine," Jay looked down and away, refusing to make eye contact with the man currently holding him on a leash.
"James, if we're going to be working together, you need to be able to look at me."
"Don't call me James."
"Why not? If you call me Zane, I feel as though me calling you James is just as personal. Although I do request that you call me Snake in front of the others. I have worked for a long time to reach my status, and I would hate to have my persona crumbled by one pesky ninja."
"Fine, I'll call you Snake, just don't call me James."
"You are in no position to bargain, but I suppose I could allow you this one reward."
"Don't call it a reward, I'm not your pet," Jay hissed, and Zane raised an eyebrow threateningly. Jay gulped. "Sorry."
"Now then, shall we get started?" The blonde purred, and Jay bit his lip to stifle a snarky comeback. His stomach decided to respond for him in the form of a growl.
"Uh, actually, do you have any food?"
"Pardon?"
"I haven't eaten in a while, and nerves makes me extra hungry once I stop feeling anxious. Do you have anything to eat?"
"I'll have someone grab some food for you."
"Thanks," Jay said quietly, and silence fell over the pair, Zane staring off into the distance as if calculating something. "I really am sorry about your dad. I remember him being pretty nice."
"The last memory I have with him is the day before he died. He was telling me about his newest plans for building a robot capable of passing the Turing Test. It was shaping up to be a wonderful project, I would have loved to have seen it."
"Yeah, that would've been really cool. I wish I was better at programming, y'know? People like hardware and stuff, but it's really the code that makes a machine cool. Like, I wish I had a fraction of the capability that your dad had. Wait, if you're planning on bringing him back, that must mean that you're pretty good at coding too, right?"
"I suppose so. But what does this have to do with resurrecting my father?"
"If you miss him more for his inventions than his company, maybe you shouldn't be bringing him back."
Zane didn't say anything, but his eyes bore holes into Jay's head, blue iris filled with cold fury. If looks could kill, Jay's blood would already be solid. Just as Jay was about to backtrack and retract the statement, sensing that it did way more harm than good, Zane yanked Jay towards the side of the room, holding fast to the rope while rifling through the cabinet holding his guns.
"Z- Zane, wait, what are you-"
"Shut up."
The room was silent except for Jay's panicked breathing and his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. Zane pulled out a handgun, the sleek black barrel glinting in the low light of the room.
"Are you religious, Jay?"
"N- No."
"Then pick a god and pray."
Zane loaded it quickly, and pulled Jay closer before he could react, pressing the weapon against his forehead. Jay felt tears form in his eyes, the realization that he was about to die making his muscles spasm and he kicked out, landing a hit on Zane's knee but also handicapping himself, his shaky limbs betraying him as he fell to the floor.
"No-! Don't, please, I'm sorry, just please don't shoot!"
"Too late. We cannot work together, and now that you know who I am I cannot leave you alive."
"I won't tell anyone, I promise! I don't want to die!"
"Neither did my father, and yet you still killed him anyway."
"I- I think I understand why you want him back."
Zane kept the gun pointed at his head, but allowed him to continue.
"You feel like you have no one left for you. Sure, you have your cronies and whatever, but you're just lonely. And you don't have to be," Jay offered, and squeezed his eyes shut just in case the next feeling he knew was a bullet going through his brain. Seconds passed, and nothing happened. The rope around his wrists was still pulled taught in Zane's grasp, but nothing changed.
After a few more moments, Jay slowly opened his eyes to see the gun still pointed at him, but the expression on Zane's face had changed into one of uncertainty.
"What do you mean I don't have to be? I have nothing left."
"You're the master of ice, right? I'm sure Sensei wouldn't mind another student, if you're willing."
"You- you want me to join you?"
"Okay, if I'm being honest, maybe not. You did just almost shoot me. But maybe you could make some friends. It wouldn't do any harm to lower your guard a little."
Zane looked away, and the hand holding the gun shook.
"Damn it," Zane muttered to himself, voice broken, and roughly untied the ropes holding Jay's wrists together. "Just go."
"You're letting me leave?"
"Just get out before I change my mind," Zane mumbled, throwing his gun down on his desk and sitting with his head in his hands. "You're right."
"Hey, woah," Jay couldn't believe his own actions even as he performed them, but he walked towards his captor and rested an easy hand on his shoulder. "I mean, thanks for letting me go, but take care of yourself, alright? We may on opposite sides here, but I'm sure you can be a nice guy if you set your mind to it."
Zane looked up, gaze weary.
"I'm not sure about the truth of your statement, but I appreciate the sentiment. Goodbye, Jay. Perhaps this will not be our last meeting."
"Maybe not," Jay pat him once on the shoulder before walking away, finding his way out pretty easily. Sure, he could run back to his friends and storm Zane's hiding spot if he wanted to, but something told him that would just end up with Zane putting a bullet through his own head instead of Jay's. As he was greeted by the cool night air, he decided on two things.
One, he needed to go back and talk to Zane again sometime, as he was still sure that there was a good guy down there somewhere. And two, never before in his life had been so thankful for his chatter.
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im-a-lonelyheart · 5 years
Text
Second Generation Headcanons
These are my headcanons of how the children from the epilogue would be. I know most folks don´t like the epilogue (For the most part I still don’t know how to feel about it) but I do, however in my head Takari and Koumi are canon (there are people who like the epilogue but don’t like including non explicit canon ships) (I won’t be mentioning them just in case), I really love the design for the kids!!!
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Let’s start:
The following fanart is done by the amazing Mishy (who let me use her art for this post) (go check her out x)
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Sora and Yamato’s kids: (sorry I suck at naming characters so don’t expect names)
The only ones who were fully planned they waited a while to have kids because:
1. Were busy building successful and time demanding careers.
2. Given their own childhood issues, they both agreed to wait until both were 100% on board and could provide a healthy household for their kids to grow up.
Were scared shitless anyways
Yamato is the cool uncle who is an astronaut, all the kids LOVE him, and he loves all the kids. Always brings every single one of them presents from his travels or science/related ones.
The son:
Tiny baby (the takeru of the group), everyone is so protective of him not only his sister and cousins. His Digimon follows the gabumon line and is really powerful so he doesn’t really need the extra protection (but everyone ignores this)
Inherited the crest of light. He is a ray of sunshine
Ok hear me out. I think the chosen lost/gave up their crest sometime between kizuna and the epilogue and while their kids got the same baby Digimon as their parents, the crest were redistributed according to their own personality traits.
That scared his parents, because they saw how it burdened Hikari. Even if the darkness was placated years ago (whatever was after Hikari is gone), it couldn’t be truly destroyed. Still, this crest carries a lot of power and responsibility.
 Hikari came over and took him to the park and over ice cream explained the crest to him and reassured them all that they have nothing to be worried about and they could contact her anytime in case something happens.
The daughter:
Bearer of the crests of Love and Friendship.
Scarily similar to both of her parents.
Loves to play and participate in group activities, but also enjoys being alone sometimes.
Really into art, she is never seen without her sketch book and a pen. All the paintings in her house are painted by her. And her mother also incorporates some of them into her designs or uses them as inspiration.
100% Daddy’s girl. She looks up to Yamato so much, even dresses a little like him and keeps her hair short for a while (she loves it when they tell her she looks like him).
Loves to hang out with Taichi’s son. They are in the same school.
Had an emo phase.
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Miyako and Ken’s children:
The babies having babies. I am emo.
They both work a lot, but miyako does it from home (she works with Koushiro, fight me). They still take them to the park a lot and go on family trips all the time.
THE DAUGHTER:
Little shit.
Actual genius. Always doing experiments, don’t be surprised if you see the dog with a phone taped to his collar, she is probably trying something. Loves computers but science is her thing. After all these years they let her be as long as 1. She is home, 2. Doesn’t involve the digimons, 3. Doesn’t involve fire.
One time Yamato gave her a chemistry set. They had to move out to another building. After that, Ken asked him to bring her moon rocks from now on. She also loved the rocks
Loves to roast everyone in the family (mostly Miyako). Ken has to remind her not to be so rude to her mom. She adores her parents, but this brings her joy.
Crest of purity. Mimi is proud of her
Don’t be fooled, she is the goggle kid of this gen.
The son
Actual cinnamon roll, too pure for this world.
Calm personality. It contrasts a little from his sister’s. But if she is up to something, he is the only one 100% aware of it and would follow her to the end of the world.
Miyako thought she was coercing him, but no, he loves his older sister’s ideas and plans.
Crest of Love.  He is really in tune with other people’s feelings, it concerns his parents because he can be overly empathetic sometimes and it affects him. He is really open and wears his heart on his sleeve.
He tells everything to his mom, and if something goes wrong, he’s the first one to contact the adults.
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Iori’s daughter
Iori was the youngest to have a kid, he knew it, but he really wanted his grandfather to meet his kid and see him happy and married before he died.
He isn’t sappy or overly romantic, but he believes in love at first sight, meet his wife on his first day in college and didn’t look back.
Lives in the same building as takeru. They drink tea together in the afternoons like old british ladies
The kid
Looks like a cinnamon roll but is Little shit 2. Best friends with little shit 1 and Takeru’s son.
Again, Ken has to make sure they aren’t overly mean to Miyako and Iori.
Crests of knowledge. Wants to know everything about the digimons and the digital world.
Has Iori wrapped around her finger since day one, but he is the first one to call her out her BS.
Isn’t into kendo but likes to try different extracurricular activities (still hasn’t found what she likes yet), but Iori is her #1 fan everytime.
Jyou’s son
Jyou moved around the country for a while, so his kid didn’t grow up as close to the others. He still made sure they all hung out together whenever he was in town.
“I have to make sure you don’t miss me” 
“oh, it isn’t like you were around much when we were young” 
“MIMI-KUN!”
The kid
Gomamon’s biggest fan. He and his own Bukamon were his only friends for a while, he can’t wait for bukamon to digivolve so he can be with TWO gomamons.
When they moved back, He got close to Takeru’s kid. Doesn’t get what the fuss about his father is about.
He knows a lot about digimons but is more into engineering. Doesn’t like blood.
Inherited his father’s lack of chill. Has a little crush on iori’s daughter (hasn’t figured out how to act around her, yet).
Crest of purity/reliability.
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Takeru’s son
He is with Hikari and their kids are siblings. Please let me have this.
Takeru really loves his nephew and niece. He totally would spoil them rotten.
Designated Babysitter. Since he is a freelancer, you can say he has a lot of free time (not to his face tho), he likes to take the kids to amusement parks, go for ice cream, etc.…
After his lonely childhood he is loving having such a big family now. I CrY.
The kid.
Grew up listening to his father’s stories every night.
One thing he learned about them was the importance of being prepared all the time and think before he acts. He is thoughtful, so he really related to Jyou.
Not only that, Jyou is his hero. Takeru was really amused at first when his son would ask him questions about him after his bedtime stories. He is fond of his son admiration for his friend, who also saved him when he was younger, and knows that Jyou being away contributed to this.
Carries a backpack with him all the time. You want water? He got it. You need tissues? He has some. Some kid at school is being mean to you? He would show up to walk you home. (doesn’t like violence)
Crests of reliability. The kid was ecstatic.
At first, he got close to Jyou’s son so he could talk about his dad but ended up really liking the kid. (he likes to be friends with everyone)
Best friends with Iori’s daughter. And hella overprotective of his cousins.
Hikari’s son:
Please
Designated babysitter 2. She is really good with kids, tho she also helps organize plans for only the adults.
Tailmon disappeared one day when she was heavily pregnant, she looked for her the whole day and finally found her in her mother’s house. Tailmon told her she was worried that when she had the baby, she wouldn’t like having her around anymore.
Hikari reassured her that she would love them all equally and she will need her now more than ever. They cried and made up, then her water broke.
Taichi totally cried nonstop the day she gave birth. She still teases him about it.
The kid:
Healthy as a horse, athletic and tall. Total opposite from his mother except for his looks. It amuses Taichi to no end.
Behind the scenes leader. He loves to bring out the best in everyone and always makes sure they are all fine. He specially loves to hang out with Miyako’s kids, Daisuke’s son and Takeru’s son his sibling (they have to deal with the shenanigans of LS1 and LS2, god bless them).
Crest of Fate. Hikari always suspected that like her, he wouldn’t get a normal crest, still cautious as to what exactly this one means.
Hates being alone, isn’t used to it. Tailmon slept in his crib with him when he was a baby. He is always with his plotmon and has got in trouble several times for bringing her to school. He hasn’t told anyone but his Nyaromon digivolved because he ran to the street without looking and was almost hit by a car. Plotmon saved him.
Loves having sleepovers at his uncle’s house, despite their age difference he really loves to play with his cousin.
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Taichi’s son
Always said he’d rather be a cool uncle than being a father. But the more he thought about it the more he wanted it. He realized he was the only one without a kid, but his travels still made him hesitate.
Still goes over to Yamato and Sora’s house all the time. One time when Sora was pregnant Yamato arrived from work and found Sora sitting in the sofa and Taichi cutting fruit in the kitchen.
Yamato and Taichi sat down, Taichi handed Sora a bowl of fruit and whipped cream and started eating it with her.
“thanks”
“You didn’t bring me a fork?”
“oh, I am sorry, was the baby growing inside you pushing your organs too?” Taichi and Sora laugh.
“no. but then why are you eating?”
“I cut the fruit”
“well, I bought the fruit!”
“GUYS”
“Sorry… but seriously what’s the matter with you lately?”
“I don’t know what are you talking about… hey Sora how did I do it?”
“the fruit? Fine I guess… why?” both Sora and Yamato stared at Taichi waiting for him to spill.
“OHjustfine?ok,bythewayiamhavingababytoo”
One time he got emotional after seeing his little sister’s son taking care of his son.
ANYWAYS, THE KID
CREST OF FRIENDSHIP *not pictured: everyone laughing about it for years.
Baby but doesn’t like being treated as one. Super independent, dresses himself since he is two. Loves to challenge himself.
Instant best friends with everyone he meets. Loves to hangout with the Ishidas. They are his best friends, also his cousin, also is everyone else. Doesn’t mind being around adults as well, often called matured for his age. This amuses Hikari.
Apart from his parents, Hikari is his favorite person in the world. Right now, he wants to be a teacher like her. (Last week he wanted to be a Chef like Mimi)
He and the third Ichijouji kid will probably lead the next gen.
Daisuke’s son
Daisuke travelled a lot, meet a lot of people and ironically, he married one of his neighbors. He went one time to visit his parents and ran into the girl who lived upstairs, whom he knew since he was a kid, but holy shit. He visited his parents everyday for a month until she asked him out.
When she got pregnant, he asked Taichi for his goggles.
The kid:
Prankster. Did you expect anything else? (his chibimon has a really deep voice and he loves to use him to prank people)
Don’t leave him alone with the Ichijouji girl if you value your home or your life.
Crest of Courage. Loves a good adventure, well for him everything is an adventure: from running errands with his aunt to going with his father to one of his restaurants around the world.
He is a handful; however, he has a big heart and is such a happy kid.
Admires the older chosen a lot and it’s always asking them questions about their adventures. Dreams of being an explorer or changing the world. Yamato patiently answers all his questions about space since his own kids don’t seem to be interested.
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Mimi’s son:
She totally married koushiro, bear with me on this.
She has a multifaceted career, although not in what you would expect (she wasn’t interested in acting or singing professionally). She ran a lot of business, selling them when she lost interest. Is not afraid of taking risks. This meant she travelled a lot.
Eventually got tired (yes, I know. Mimi, tired? Yes) and came back to Japan. At first, she was promoting her new cooking book in a tv show but she got offered her own show and has been living her best life ever since.
The kid:
He is quiet, introvert but observant.
Ironically, he speaks 4 languages (Japanese, English, French, and Spanish), he is learning german now. He loves reading so that’s why he likes languages a lot.
He bonds with the other kids over the digimons and card games, ends up going to school with most of them and they eventually bring him out of his shell. He and Jyou’s son are kindred spirits.
Calm kid, but if you mess with him or one of his friends… you will see him angry. He is honest and loyal to his friends.
(you know how each baby Digimon has multiple evolution lines? I read in the Digimon wiki that one of Palmon’s ultimate forms is a cherrymon. Imagine Taichi saying something like: “Well kid, one advice: never tell someone to kill their friends” and the kid being like: “…ok?”, whereas Mimi and Yamato glare at him “I’ll fucking end you Taichi”)
Crest of knowledge/courage, of course.
Last but no least: 
Koushiro’s Daughter.
By this point You know what’s up
Koushiro first thought when she was handed to him for the first time was: “wow, she looks like me.” What really got to him (even though it shouldn’t) was how he had someone related to him by blood.
He adores her and is really proud of every little thing she does. Remember the “do it for her” scene from the Simpsons? He totally has one like that in his office.
Tentomon didn’t tell anyone that he spent a whole day watching Youtube hair styling tutorials. No, none. He didn’t tell Palmon and Gomamon who told everyone else, no.
The kid:
Actual ray of sunshine. (i know i seem to say this about every kid, but listen they are my kids too)
She is the nicest kid you’ll ever meet. Koushiro says he’s never had to deal with a temper tantrum.
Crest of Kindness. Loves animals, got her dad to donate money to the oceans and animal shelters.
Sora gave her stickers with cute animals and smiley faces for her birthday and now if she sees someone sad, she gives them a sticker. “Dad, you look sad today. Here!” she puts a smiley face on his forehead, he smiles and hugs her. He didn’t take it off and “accidentally” went on a meeting like that. Miyako took pictures and sent them to the group chat.
Closest to Ken’s son and Mimi’s son her brother. Also loves to hangout with Taichi’s son, and Yamato’s kids.
Loves music, actual prodigy. Plays the piano and the violin (she plays violin most of the time). Wants to compose a song for each Digimon. Invites everyone to her concerts.
Ok, this was long. I didn’t talk about the baby, but i think he would be Hope (since he is the last one) (wrote this in an hour and english is not my first language, so yeah. Sorry)
I think these people love each other so much, they might’ve drifted apart in their youth, but with the years they all got close again. Since most of the kids don’t have siblings, they set up playdates, so they don’t feel lonely. They don’t regret the events that brought them together, they knew they had to let their kids experience it when the time came.
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missnxthingg · 5 years
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At First Sight | She’s Just Tired Prequel
A/N: First, I wanna thank you all for +1K notes on “She’s Just Tired”. I loved writing that request just as much many people liked to read it. I wanted to post it when it hit 1K, but I was away for a trip with my friends and just got to finish it today (because I’m inspired by a boy I met). If you haven’t read “She’s Just Tired” yet, there’s no problem, because this is a prequel! So you can read this first and than read this post right after. It’s a bit long, but I hope you enjoy it!
Words: 9.1K
Pairing: Peter Parker x Female Reader
Warnings: Pure sugar, I feel sorry for you diabetes.
masterlist | she’s just tired
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Peter Parker was always late for decathlon meetings since his first year of high school. This year, for the first meeting, wouldn't be different. He arrived when everyone was already sitting down at the table, eating the cupcakes MJ always brings for the first meetings since she became the leader after Liz Allen graduated.
"You're late, loser." MJ said, cleaning her mouth from the whipped cream.
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay, we're used to have you coming in really late." MJ said and Peter nodded, glancing over the table to find an available seat.
A girl was sitting at the table, one he had never seen before. She was glancing at her nails, playing with them. She was shaking, clearly nervous, and that only made Peter think she was cute. Actually she was gorgeous, and he thinks his heart skipped a beat when he saw her. He immediately sat next to her, leaving his things over the table, getting a cupcake right after.
"So, we have a new member today. This is (Y/N), and she is new in school. She's going to spend a lot of time with us, since she was from her old school's decathlon. So be nice to her." Mr. Harrington said, starting the meeting for once. "Oh, and Peter, since you're late, you're going to show the school for (Y/N)." Peter nodded and glanced at her with a shy smile.
"Hi, I-I'm Peter. Peter Parker."
"I'm (Y/N) (Y/L/N)." She smiled nervously, tension coming from both sides.
"I can see you're nervous. Don't be, everyone here is nice. Well, everyone except Flash." He glanced at the boy eating his third cupcake across the table.
"I noticed, he's been calling me fresh meat all day." She rolled her eyes and Peter nodded.
"Don't mind him. He's an idiot."
The meeting didn't take long, they arranged the new schedule for their meetings and trainings, ate some more cupcakes and they were dismissed. (Y/N) left soon and Peter followed her.
"(Y/N), wait for me." He smiled when he approached her. "Let me show you around."
"Okay." She smiled shyly, following him around the halls.
"So, what school are you coming from?"
"Bronx High School of Science. But it's too far away from my apartment, and my mom wanted me to study here."
"Where do you live?"
"Queens." He giggled, opening a wide smile.
"Seriously? I’m from Queens too. Forest Hills.”
“I’m from Sunnyside.” He smiled and kept walking around with her. 
“That’s not too far away from where I live. I can walk you home sometime.”
“Yeah, it will be great.” She smiled to him, making him melt with that gorgeous face she has. “I could really use making some friends around here.”
“I don’t have many friends around here, mostly Ned but he’s not here today. So, I don’t think I’m your best choice to start making friends.” He said, shrugging, afraid of her reaction. Maybe she would just turn around and leave. But she chuckled and shook her head.
“But you’re the only one who has been nice to me all day.” 
They kept walking together, talking about each other and about school. He showed her everything and gave her some advice on how to survive that school. She was really funny and very easy to be around, it made Peter comfortable, more comfortable than he had ever been. They had a strong connection since the beginning, it was like they’ve been friends for life.
“So, this is Midtown High. And I hope that you stick around.”
“I probably will.”
“I have to leave now. I have an internship to get to. But I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”
“Of course, I hope to have someone to sit with during lunch, because I sat in the library today.”
“Well, you can always sit with me and Ned.” He said with a big smile on his face.
“Thank you.” She kissed his cheek and both blushed so hard, that it was the cutest thing in the world. “For showing me around and being nice to me.”
“You make it really easy being nice yourself.” He smiled. “Goodbye.”
“Bye!” She said, watching him walk away.
Peter went patrolling that day, and a smile didn’t leave his face during the rest of the day. He swinged through the streets of Queens, wondering if he would bump into her. He wondered if she would like Spider Man, or if she would like to know he’s Spider Man. She didn’t leave his mind for a second that day. Once he decided it was a calm night in Queens, he went home to have dinner with May.
“May, I’m home.” He shouted from his room, taking his suit off to change into some more comfortable clothes.
“Hey sweetie, come here." Peter came to her with a big smile on his face. "Someone looks extremely happy today."
"It was just a really good day." He said, sitting next to her.
"Really? Nice. What's her name?" 
"(Y/N). She's new in school." He sighed and May smiled, pushing him slightly with her elbow.
"Tell me about her."
"Nooo, this is too embarrassing! I'm going to bed."
"Oh Pete, no! C'mere." She pulled him back but he got up to get something to eat.
"There's really nothing to talk about her. She's just nice, and very pretty." May couldn't see him from where he was standing, but he was smiling a lot. "I just made a new friend, okay? It's nice to have more friends other than Ned."
"I know. I'm sorry to embarrass you. But you know you can always talk about this stuff to me."
"I know May." He finished his sandwich, and kissed the top of her head, before going back to his room.
The following first month of classes were good. (Y/N) sat with MJ and Betty, along with some other girls from her debate team, completely forgetting about Peter or his invite to join him and Ned during break. Still, she said hi to him whenever she saw him in the hall or when they met in shared classes. He would see her mostly in decathlon, when she was answering all of the questions correctly, showing how smart she was.
"I guess someone is taking your place of the best in the team, Peter." Ned said and Peter shrugged.
"I don't mind, especially if it's her."
He was amazed by how intelligent she was, doing her own thing and always answering questions correctly, or always having something to say in debate class. (Y/N) was simply good at everything, and that's probably why he found it strange when she asked help with physics. 
"I really need help, do you think you can help me? Maybe over a coffee or something. I'll pay."
"You don't have to pay (Y/N), just meet me at this place after class, it's in Queens. I'm gonna help you." He wrote on a small post it and gave it to her.
"So tomorrow after class?"
"I'll be there." She smiled and kissed his cheek before leaving.
"Thank you Pete, you're the best." 
He dressed up so nicely just to go study with her. And there she was, just being herself, waiting for him in a table in the corner, lost between her own thoughts, concentrated on a book resting on the table. Peter felt something on his chest, something very different, one that he never felt before, not even with Liz Allen. He could stand back and admire her for a long time, but he didn't want to keep her waiting.
"Hey, am I late?" He asked and she shook her head no, smiling to him.
"No, I got here earlier to go through some homework." She said, closing what she was doing on her notebook, focusing on the boy in front of her. "Oh, you smell nice."
"Thank you." He blushed, not letting his wide smile go. "Do you want to order something?"
"Yes. I want a iced coffee, with the whipped cream and sprinkles."
"Oh God, you're such a kid." He laughed at her order and hide her face between her hands. He got up to get their order while she organized their stuff to study. It took awhile, but he came back with their coffees in hands. "Here's one for my 5 year old kid, and another for me."
"I'm gonna start crying."
He laughed and got one napkin and a pen, writing something down for her. "Cute, but with a really bad taste in coffee. Still, cute." He handed it to her and she kept it on her bag, blushing very hard.
"So, Petey. I need help because I don't know what half of these words mean."
"It's easy, come on." He sat next to her and started to explain, and she met him halfway, understanding everything he was saying. It took a whole afternoon, but she caught up with him after a long study session.
"Well it was easy indeed."
"See, I told you. Also, you're incredibly smart, I bet you didn't even need my help."
"But I wanted some company." She smiled to him and they kept staring at each other for a while, until he broke the silence.
"Are you hungry? We can order something to eat."
"A pie would be nice."
The date went on for at least one more hour, they tried to study more, but they couldn't concentrate on the smart jokes Peter kept cracking around, making her laugh loudly, and the stupid kids songs she kept singing to him. 
"I guess I have to go. It's getting dark. Let's go pay."
"It's my treat." Peter said, getting up before her to pay.
"Thank you." She blushed, helping him by organizing their things before leaving.
"Come on, I'll walk you home
Peter walked her home right after they were done, considering it was on his way to the subway and he couldn't let her go home alone so close to being dark.
"I'm sorry for not sitting to you in lunch. It's just, MJ and Betty were so nice and we were hooked on a conversation."
"It's okay. You need to make friends, it's not like you're gonna get them by sitting with me and Ned, listening to us talk about Star Wars."
"No! You guys are really nice, I would love to talk to you about Star Wars." She smiled to him, slowing down her pace. "This is my building."
"Oh, okay."
"Thank you for today." She hugged him, and what was meant to be an awkward hug turned out to be a very nice one. She held his middle and he held her by the shoulder. "For paying and helping me."
"Anytime, (N/N)."
"Good night Pete."
"Good night."
He was too energetic to simply get the subway. Instead, he changed clothes in an alley and swing home, doing a lot of flips. Today made him extremely happy and all he wanted to do was scream in excitement. It was a good night, and he even did his small patrolling very happy, again, because of the same girl.
The next day, she met him early in the halls, and gave him some homemade cookies baked by her grandmother, just to thank him for the previous day. They met again in chemistry class, where they were partnered up by their teacher. And when lunch came, she saw him passing with his friend and called him.
"Hey Pete, why don't you guys sit with us?" She asked with a warm smile on her face. (Y/N) was sitting along with Betty and MJ.
"Okay." He said and Ned shrugged, following his friend.
Ned knew his best friend was falling for that girl, and how his eyes glow whenever he sees her. Completely heart eyes emoji. And they were close, like the inside jokes type of close, laughing a lot together. He even shared some of his fries with her. Also, she stood up for him when Flash came around to bully him during the following week.
"Sup Penis Parker. Did your mom dress you up today? Oh right…"
"Flash, seriously, go find something else to do. Also, he has a name."
"Oh, so you and New Meat are a thing? Good to know." He pointed to both of them and Peter step closer to him.
"Don't you dare say anything about her, or I'll break your fucking face." Peter said with an angry voice. "You can say anything about me, but don't you dare say anything about her."
"Come on Pete, he's not worthy it." She pulled Peter to go away, but still, they could listen to what Flash said.
"So you are a thing! I knew it!"
(Y/N) pulled him to an empty classroom, only to see he was crying. Red and puffy eyes, with wet cheeks. She didn't know what to do, so she locked the door and kneeled in front of the chair he was now sitting, resting her hands on his knees.
"Hey, don't cry for a guy like Flash. He's not worth it."
"I'm not crying because of him." He tried to wipe some tears away, but some more were kept coming. "My mom and dad died when I was really young, and I was raised by my aunt May and uncle Ben, and he died many years ago. And every time Flash brings it up this way, my heart breaks. I know shouldn't care, sometimes I really don't, but in days like today, it really gets to me."
"I'm really sorry Peter." She wiped some tears away and tried to smile to comfort him. "Family stuff can be hard sometimes. God, my parents are hard too. But if you ever need anyone to talk to, even though we're not this close yet, you can always come to me."
"Thank you. Really." He sobbed, trying to calm himself down.
"Do you want a hug?"
"A hug would be nice, yeah." She held him for  while, trying to comfort him. He cried a little more, but something about her seemed to make him calm down. Maybe it was her finger running down his hair, or her soft way of talking to him. 
It was weird, but they grew their intimacy so fast, trusting each other to tell things they've never told anyone. It took a long time, like a month or two, but they practically became best friends, knowing a lot about the other, always hanging out. But their chemistry was undeniable, and both of them knew they were falling for each other, slowly opening their hearts to the world, but they never admitted it.
One night, a Wednesday one, Peter stayed up patrolling until it was 2 AM, when his phone oddly started to ring. Her name shining on the screen. Peter jumped into his room before answering it.
"Hello."
"Pete?" Her voice broke the silence from the other side of the line. She was sobbing, crying.
"(Y/N), what's wrong?"
"They had a fight, and my dad stormed out… I-I don't know where he went. I'm scared."
"Who are they? Your parents?
"Yeah."
"Do you want me to come over?" He asked and she started to cry harder.
"No, it's pretty late, I don't want you walking all the way over here. It's dangerous. W-We can just talk, it's okay."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I could use a hug tomorrow though." She sobbed, breathing deeply before continuing. "My mom thinks he's cheating and he claims that he's not, but the fight was ugly and now I'm locked in my room and I can't sleep because I'm crying, and in the end I just wanted to hear your voice."
"I'm here. You can always come to me."
“Thank you, Pete. You’ve been the best friend I’ve never really had before. I’m glad I have someone like you to be there for me.” Peter smiled, even though his heart ached to see her so hurt.
“Do you want me to do anything until you fall asleep?”
“Just talk to me. Tell me a story.” He pressed the spider on his suit, removing it to be only on his underwear under the cover to think about something to tell her.
“So, when I was a kid, May used to take me to eat ice cream at least once a month. It was a thing she used to do when uncle Ben was still alive. And it was a very nice thing we used to do. One day, I even ate a whole bunch of ice cream and it started to get out from my nose.”
“That’s disgusting!” She giggled for the first time that night, and that made his heart warm up. “Tell me another one.”
“I don’t have many stories.” He giggled. “I’m not a very interesting guy.”
“Yes, you are! Everyone is. Now, tell me like… The first time you’ve been in love, or liked someone.”
“Oh I don’t think I’ve ever loved someone like this. But, I used to like this girl, her name was Liz, but I didn’t really love her.”
“So you never loved anyone?”
“No, I don’t think so. But who knows, maybe I get the guts to ask my crush out.”
“You should, I bet you’ll make her really happy.” He smiled, thinking he wanted to ask her out the most. “More stories Parker.”
“I’ll just tell you how I became friends with Ned. It’s a long one, so maybe you’ll fall asleep to this one.”
Peter told her the whole story and soon she wasn’t answering him anymore, probably asleep now. He smiled, but let the story finish, to be sure she was really asleep.
“Maybe I’ll take your advice and ask you on a date. But tomorrow I just wanna hug you until you feel better. Now, sleep well my angel.”
The next day she looked horrible, like someone who cried her heart out until she slept. Peter’s world crumbled to not see her in such colorful clothes she normally wears, but in black jeans and a black hoodie, hair tied in a bun and absolutely no makeup, showing dark bags under her eyes. She smiled softly when she saw Peter, but it wasn’t one of her warm smiles. It was cold, like it could transmit her pain. But she was truly happy to see Peter, just couldn’t demonstrate it.
“Hey.” He said and she curled up in his embrace before saying anything. “Are you feeling better?”
“Not much. Dad was sleeping in the couch when I woke up for school. I didn’t feel like coming, but staying home was worse, but I’m not in the mood to watch the classes.”
“Do you wanna ditch? I know the perfect place. I can stay with you and you can let it all go.” She nodded and he dragged her to an old changing behind the gym, that wasn’t in use since Peter got into Midtown.
“Are you sure no one is coming here?” She asked and Peter nodded.
“The janitor only comes here on Fridays to clean it up a bit. But I’ve ditched many classes in here with Ned or alone. It’s a good place to think.”
“So why no one uses in here?”
“It’s the old girl’s locker room. They never come here because it’s small, including the lockers. Also, the shower is pretty awful, and water’s always cold. So they use the one inside school.” She nodded and he sat on the floor and she sat next to him, embracing his arm, resting her face on his shoulder.
“I'm sorry for being like this. I hate the ugly crying."
"It's okay. Everybody cries and you have a pretty good reason to do it." He caressed her knees with his thumb. "And I'm here if you wanna talk, or simply not talk."
"It's been so hard to see them fighting. And I'm holding it in, it's just good to talk to someone about it. I feel like they aren't my family anymore."
"You can build your own family. You have friends. Family doesn't mean you have to be blood related."
"I know." She started to play with his fingers and he entwined their pinkies.
"I swear I'll be here for you."  She smiled tenderly, looking at their fingers.
"I'll be here for you too. Cross my heart."
"And hope to die."
Peter tried everything to make her happy and forget about her parents situation. He even organized a bowling night with their friends to cheer her up. And the more time passed, the more they liked each other. One week, Peter was agitated, and Ned knew it was because he overheard some jocks talking about inviting the new girl on a date.
"She's gonna fall for one of those stupid idiots, and they are going to be prom queen and king, and live happily ever after." He rambled, nervously flicking his legs.
"That's why you need to get to her first. Because the way she looks at you, it almost looks like she's gonna explode."
"Really?" His eyes shined and he couldn't hold smile back.
"Yeah. Now, there she is, go talk to her." He pushed Peter into (Y/N)'s direction. She was organizing her locker when she saw him coming towards her.
"Hey Pete." She smiled to him, closing her locker to face him.
"Hey (Y/N)." He smiled back, trying to come up with words to ask her out.
"So, May told me about this old pizza place that is really good, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me. A-as a date" He was nervous, heart beating faster than it ever had. "O-only if you want it to be a date, of course."
"I'd love to." She smiled and blushed so hard, it was the cutest thing in the world.
"G-good." He smiled wider, not containing his excitement. "Do you mind if we walk there? It's not far away from your place, and I don't have a car."
"I'm fine with everything, as long as I'm with you" She held his hand and his whole body shivered.
"So, Friday?" She nodded and he entwined their fingers.
"Walk me to class?" He nodded back and she pulled him to the hall, so they could walk together.
When the day came, Peter took the subway to her place and waited a long time until he called her to come down, just because he got there earlier than expected. She got down to open the door and once he laid his eyes on her, he got completely mesmerized by her. (Y/N) usually dresses up nicely for school, but today she looked different, completely gorgeous. She was wearing a tight plaid skirt and a black tshirt with converses. She usually doesn't wear much makeup, only when she had a really long study session. But today she had a light makeup on and glossy lips. Peter almost fainted because of how beautiful she looked like.
"Hi Pete." She smiled to him and he was still jaw dropped looking at her.
"H-hi." He smiled and blinked a couple times. "You look so beautiful. A-actually you look beautiful every day."
"Thank you." She blushed, looking down to her toes. "Let's go?"
"Let's go." He gave her space to walk beside him.
They talked about all sorts of things during their walk to the pizza place. Their conversation flowed naturally, and suddenly all that anxiety of being on a first date with the other was gone. They were comfortable around each other. So comfortable that they didn't even noticed when they started to hold hands, it was just natural, but still enough to make them feel the butterflies in their stomach.
Arriving at the pizza place, they sat in a booth on the same side, this way they could be closer to talk to each other. He kept throwing jokes at her and they had a really nice conversation. They ordered soda and one pizza to share.
“You like pepperoni right?” Peter asked and (Y/N) nodded.
“It’s my favorite.” She sipped her soda and rested it over the table. “And after it comes those with pineapple on top.”
“You’re disgusting.” Peter did an ugly face, making her giggle and push him away.
“You’re such a bore. Pineapples on the pizza are fun! They bring you sweetness in the middle of all of that salty food. I definitely tastes nice when you choose the right toppings.”
“Yeah, like pepperoni, cheese and NO pineapple.” 
“Oh, shut up.” She giggled.
Both of them ate the whole pizza slowly, trying to enjoy every second of their date. They talked about everything, and it was the most magical thing in the universe. Peter was amazed of the way she talks, and sometimes she even caught him staring at her with admiration, like she was an angel.
“I really meant when I said you looked beautiful today.”
"You look beautiful too Pete." 
"I look like trash compared to you." He giggled and fixed her hair, resting his thumb on her cheek. "Do you know what?"
"What?" She asked confused.
"I really wanna kiss you right now." She smiled and locked their gazes together.
"So why don't you do it?"
Those words were like song to Peter's ears. He let a crooked smile out and leaned in to take her lips onto his. It was brief and sweet, but their hearts were pounding so hard that they thought it would beat out of their chests. And right there it was their first kiss, quite simple, but the most amazing one that they’ve ever had. He pulled back giving some small pecks on her lips before breaking the kiss. They both smiled when they pulled away, foreheads still close together, and they were just feeling each other.
“This was amazing.” She broke the silence for the first time.
“Yeah. And it tasted like pepperoni.” He joked and she hid her face in the crook of his neck, blushing hard.
“Oh my God, this is so embarrassing.”
"I like pepperoni.” He poked her waist with his index finger, making her look back to him. “But I like you more, since the first time I saw you.”
“I like you too. More than pineapples on pizza.” She touched the tip of his nose and he smiled.
“I’m starting to think that you don’t actually like me." She giggled, pulling him to another kiss.
"You dork. I really really really really like you."
"I really really really really like you too." She smiled and caressed the back of his head, bringing him closer to leave some more pecks on his mouth.
"You're my little angel." He whispered against her lips. "Thank you for coming with me."
"I had so much fun tonight. I'm glad you invited me."
"Well, I couldn't think of a better company." They entwined their fingers and she rested her head on his shoulder.
"I don't want this to be over, but my dad gave me a curfew."
"I will walk you home. Just let me go pay." He kissed her cheek before getting up to pay.
"Oh, let's split."
"Please (Y/N), I saved all my money for taking the girl I like out and I'm not letting her split."
"Well, I want to help the boy I like pay this for me." She smiled reaching him to hug him from behind while he waited to pay.
"The boy I like. That sounds really good." He smiled, glancing down to his wallet to get his money to pay up.
"I like hugging you. It's comfy." She brushed her cheeks against his back and inhaled his perfume.
"I feel like you might fall asleep if you keep doing this." He turned around and she hugged his middle. Peter kissed her forehead and she smiled widely.
"I like this new side of you."
"The Completely Head Over Heels side?" He asked, gaze locked with hers.
"Maybe. I don't know, haven't named it yet." 
"Come on, curfew." He reminded guiding her with a hand on her lower back towards the exit.
The weather was chilly and Peter noticed her body shiver in contact with the cold wind, so he involved her with her with his jacket and their hands glued together like two magnetic puzzles that were meant to be together. Since they found out this was a thing that felt too good to do, they didn’t let their hands go apart again. The feeling right deep in their chests was like the most addictive drug in the world, and they wanted to feel it again. Peter took her home safely and even gave her a good night kiss before leaving.
“Be safe, and text me when you get home.” She yelled watching him walk away.
“I will babe.” He said turn around one last time to blink at her.
“Babe.” She whispered with a smile on her face, before turning around to go inside.
As if it was somehow possible, they became even closer, the kind of inseparable close, on the following week. They texted all weekend and when it was Monday again, there they were, hanging together all the time. That week they had two study dates and Ned even let Peter have one lunch alone with her. But they didn’t kiss even once after that date, and it was driving both of them insane. They would glance at each other’s lips for long periods, wanting to feel it again.
The whole school already knew they were hanging out in two weeks of doing things like sharing homemade treats, partnering up in almost every class, and sometimes spotted holding hands and staring at each other in class or while talking. Being apart was getting harder and harder for both of them.
“(Y/N), wait!” He raced his pace to reach her before she met the front door.
“Hey Pete.” She smiled to see him again, just because they had separated classes all day and only talked during break. “Heading home?”
“Yeah. I was thinking that maybe I could walk you home.”
“Isn’t it too much for you to walk? I live a bit far away from your house.”
“I don’t mind. My day isn’t being the best, and you always cheer me up.” She stopped to look at his face with concern.
“Are you okay?” She asked with her worried eyes and he nodded.
“Yeah, I just woke up in a bad mood, didn’t sleep much and I get cranky when I don’t sleep properly.” She held his hand and caressed its back with her thumb.
“Come on. Maybe I can distract you, but promise me to get some sleep when you get home?”
“I promise.”
“Good. Let’s go.” She pulled him by the hand and they walked together through the streets of New York.
They took the subway together to get outside Manhattan, all the way to Queens, where they would have a fifteen minute walk from the subway to her apartment. They walked slowly, talking about their favorite things about New York, like places to visit or eat, and things to do. Peter knew in that moment that it would become his favorite thing to do with her, walk around New York, fingers laced together and they talked. He rocked their arms back and forth while listened to her list her favorite ice cream places in Sunnyside.
“Oh, there’s one of my favorite things in New York.” She pointed to his left, and he glanced over where she was looking.
“A newsstand?” He got a bit confused and she giggled.
“No! Look at the Daily Bugle. It’s Spider Man!” She said with a smile on her face.
“D-do you like Spider Man?” He asked nervously.
“Of course! He’s my favorite superhero, and he even helped me find my stolen phone once.” Peter eyes shined once those words came out of her mouth. “I wish I could see him again.”
“Maybe you will.” He said, trying to hold a smile back. “He’s always around Queens, you know.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so. I only saw him once, but it was amazing.” She smiled and got her keys out of her backpack. “I even have this key chain. It’s him upside down.” He glanced over her keys and smiled.
“You are the perfect girl.” He said, looking back to her, and before she even processed what he was saying, their lips were glued again. They didn’t properly kiss in two weeks, only a small peck Peter gave her in the middle of the hall and almost died of embarrassment, also not being very lucky once Flash was nearby. This time, he was taking full advantage of being alone with her. It was a real kiss, and it took longer than the first one, but it was also hotter and needy.
“What was that?” She whispered against his lips and he kissed her again.
“I just really missed your lips.” He said with one hand on the back of her head, before leaving some minor kisses on her lips.
“You need to go rest Pete.”
“I will.” She kissed his cheek before hugging him.
“And you are the perfect guy.” She said against his chest.” Thank you so much fo walking with me, baby.”
“Thank you for lighting up my day.” He smiled, leaving one last kiss on top of her head. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“Bye. Text me when you get home.”
“Always, boss.” He saluted her and walked away until he saw her coming into the build.
Peter decided to swing home in his Spider suit, because it would be faster for him to do it. So in less than 10 minutes, he was home, cooking something for him to eat. He couldn’t get that stupid smile out of his face, because the girl he truly likes also likes his superhero version, and he couldn’t be happier about something like this. He really tried to sleep a little bit, but she couldn’t get out of his head, and when he saw, it was already time to go on patrol.
It was a calm night in Queens, some minor things happened and he helped lost people, tourists, and some small robberies were stopped. But it was early and nothing was happening, so he decided to surprise his girl, knowing she was home and that she would love to see Spider Man once again. So he swung to Sunnyside and stopped at her firescape. He stood back and watched her inside her room. Her light was low, and she was concentrated on her Twitter and the songs playing on her headphones, as she normally does before lying to sleep. He smiled at her and her unicorn pajamas, seeing her so peacefully brings him joy and he could sit back and watch her do it all night, but it would be creepy. So he knocked on her window, and he thanked God her music was low, because she was able to listen and look back. Her eyes widened at the figure standing on the edge of her firescape. She ran to open the window with a big smile on her face.
“Spider Man? What are you doing here?”
“Just swimming by. Hello!”
“Hi.” She smiled and gave him space to pass. “Please, come in. Are you hurt?”
“No! I just got tired, and tonight is a calm night, but I need to rest. Sore back.” He pointed to his back and she nodded. “You’re (Y/N), right?”
“How do you know my name?”
“A friend of mine told me. And he also told me you’re my biggest fan.”
“I don’t know if I’m your biggest, but I’m a big fan.”
“I really appreciate that.” He smiled under the mask, completely mesmerized by the way she looked at him. “Can you get me a glass of water? Pretty please, I’m really thirsty.”
“I’ll be right back. Please don’t be loud, my parents are home.”
“Don’t worry.” He watched her leave the room and glanced over it.
It was almost like he entered her brain. Her room was so full of her personality. It had a fun decoration, but not with too much color. She had pictures all over the walls, along with posters and some books and HQs. Her bed was messy, and so was her table, since she’s not an organized person at all. But there was some things to be noticed around the room. She had a Spider Man plush over her bed, a Daily Bugle with him on the cover resting right next to her bed. It was all about him, but he couldn’t help but notice some Peter things as well. The napkin he wrote on their first study date was hanging on a board next to her door along with the post-it he gave her with the café name. He smiled, knowing that she kept it somewhere she could see it everyday.
“So, are you going to tell me who’s this friend of yours who told you about me?” She said coming back to the room with a glass of water in hands.
“I can’t. It would break my disguise.”
“At least tell me if it’s from Bronx or Midtown High.”
“Midtown.” He said and she whined.
“Come on Spidey! Tell me.” She begged and he smiled.
“Maybe if you tell me your friends’ names, I can see if it’s anyone I know.”
“Okay, so there’s MJ and Betty, and they are a few of my girl friends. I met this nice girl named Alicia in Biology class. Also, there’s Ned, but I hang with him more when I’m around Pe…” She stopped halfway and smiled, looking down to her knees, cheeks completely red.
“Around who?”
“Peter. Peter Parker.” She smiled with the mention of his name. It was like she completely forgot that she had a superhero in her room once Peter’s name was mentioned.
“I’m guessing this Peter is not just a friend.”
“He’s not. I mean, he is, but I don’t know what we are yet. But we’re far beyond the friendship lane, and I really like him.”
“Tell me more about him.” He leaned back on his seat and pulled his mask above his nose to expose his mouth so he could drink the water.
“Peter is the first guy I truly liked, from the very first moment I saw him. And it’s weird, because I feel so good around him and we’ve known each other for only a month now.”
“I know what that’s like.” He drank another sip of his water and continued. “I met this girl too, and she’s amazing, you know. I really truly like her, and I just wish she knew it.”
“You should tell her that.”
“I already have.” He smiled, finishing the glass. “She likes me back, yeah. Maybe in the same intensity, but I just wish she knew how important she is to me.”
“I bet she knows.” (Y/N) winked and he smiled, pulling his mask back down. “He kissed me today. Peter. I think for the second time, and it was magical. How did it feel to kiss that girl for the first time?”
“So good. Maybe it was the best kiss of my life, and I didn’t care a bit if it tasted like pepperoni.” Once she realized what he said, her eyes widened and she sat straight.
“Peter?” She asked and he nodded. (Y/N) approached and pulled his mask off. “Oh my God. You’re Spider Man?”
“Surprise.” He smiled nervously and she hugged him.
“I can’t believe this.” She said against his neck. “I’m going to be so worried about you now.”
“Don’t be, please. I’m completely fine.”
“You’re my favorite superhero. I think I might be dreaming.”
“I swear you’re not darling.” He smiled and she glued their lips in another kiss.
“And I opened up my heart to you.” She punched him in the arm, and his only reaction was to pull her into a hug.
“I opened mine too.” He stroked her hair, feeling her calm down under his touch. “I really mean when I say I like you. And (Y/N), you’re the most amazing girl in the world.”
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"Because I needed to know if I could trust you."
"And you do?" He stopped to caress her cheek and smile tenderly.
"You're the person I trust the most."
"I'm glad you told me." She sat on his lap and he pulled her into a hug. "Are you hungry baby? There's some pizza leftovers. And did you sleep well?"
"Couldn't sleep, but I'm tired. And I ate a sandwich before coming."
"Come here. Let me make you rest." She pulled him to bed and he lied between her legs.
"May will be worried about me."
"Text her. Say you're with me." 
"I can't baby." She buried her nose in his hair and held him tightly.
"Please." She cried and he nodded, pressing a kiss on the palm of her hand that was before resting on his chin.
"Just a little bit, okay?" She nodded and pressed some more kisses on the top of his head. "Tell me about your day, I haven't seen you all day."
She told her everything about his day and he told about his and what was bothering him. And from that day, they were officially a thing, not holding back their relationship to the world. He even went to have dinner with her parents one night, which ended up with them loving Peter, but fighting with each other when Mr. (Y/L/N) was called for a "late night work". The night that was supposed to be a nice dinner ended up with Peter staying over to comfort his girl to sleep, because she couldn't stop crying.
But it didn't have a name, or a label. Everytime they were asked if they were girlfriend and boyfriend, they didn't know how to answer that question, simply saying that they were a thing. But both of them wanted something else, even though they've been to plenty of dates and were inseparable. (Y/N) hasn't met aunt May yet, because she was always busy. 
Peter was watching her during class, completely lost in her thoughts, not paying attention to class, buried in her book. In that moment he knew she needed to be his girlfriend and make it official with a promise ring or something.
"Ned, I'm gonna ask (Y/N) to be my girlfriend."
"She isn't already?"
"Yeah, kind of. But it's not like I ever asked her to be my girlfriend. We just hang out."
"You met her parents."
"Which was a disaster." Ned nodded, agreeing with him.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes! I want her to be mine forever."
"So go for it dude."
Peter planned for a whole week and it was just a good coincidence when she called him Thursday night during patrol.
"Movie day! Tomorrow, at my place." 
"Hello to you too babe." He giggled during his swing through the streets of Queens.
"Sorry. I'm just too excited. My parents won't be home for the weekend and I really wanted to have the place for us."
"Okay. I can cancel patrol tomorrow." He smiled, because his plan was falling into place.
"I really want to do absolutely nothing tomorrow. Just watch movies, eat junk food and be with you."
"The perfect day."
And it was indeed. After class, they rushed to her place and even met her mom leaving the apartment before going to the airport. (Y/N) cooked some pasta for lunch and they spent the afternoon in her bed.
"You know what is today?" He asked and she kept thinking if she forgot something.
"No, not really."
"Our 2 month anniversary since our first date." He caressed her cheek and smiled.
"You saved the date. How cute!"
"It's a really important one to me." He sat in bed and pulled his backpack to his lap. "And I got something from you."
"Pete, I didn't get you anything…"
"It's a gift for us both." He got a velvet box out of his bag and opened it for her, showing her a key necklace.
"Peter, it's so pretty, but it seems so expensive."
"I got a raise from my boss." He said and pulled his keys out of his pocket. "See this key chain? It's a heart, and it's locked up. And in the middle of many keys, you have the only one that can unlock my heart."
"Stop it! I'm emotional, and I'm gonna cry." She said tearing up and he giggled, turning her around to put the necklace around her neck. "Thank you so much."
"(Y/N) (Y/L/N), will you please be my girlfriend? This time officially."
"Yes!" She jumped on his neck and pulled him into a long kiss. They kissed many times before, but that one felt like it was their first one. Tasted different and new, and it was quite fun to do it. "You make me so happy."
"That's the reason why I asked you to be my girlfriend. You make me happy, you make me feel special, like no one ever did."
"It's you and me against the world, forever." She entwined their little fingers and he glued their foreheads together.
"Forever."
And their relationship was the best one they could ever had. They barely fought and they had a lot of fun together, it didn't matter if they were on a fancy dinner date or dancing while they were alone in her room. Still, even though Peter wanted to introduce his girlfriend to his aunt, it seemed like she was never home.
"Please May, try to manage some time. I really want you to meet her."
"I'm trying sweetheart, but things just seem hard on F.E.A.S.T. right now and I just wanna get all my work done by the end of the month."
"But I've been dating her for almost three months now, and I've already met her parents. She'll start to think I don't want you to meet her."
"That's bullshit darling." She kept concentrated on folding laundry and Peter decided to help her finish it.
"She's the girl of my dreams, and I really wanted her to meet my family. And you're my whole family May."
"I know sweetie. I promise you to have her over for dinner by the end of the month."
“I just wish that she could come over so we could have a dinner as a family, you know, because she has some issues with her family and I wish she could just be happy for one night.”
“She will, and it’s going to be perfect Pete.”
He thanked that he had (Y/N) to be there for him, because it seemed like May was pretty occupied with her new shelter to even remember his existence. He felt sorry for her, because he knew she was very tired. But (Y/N) was always there to support him, and vice versa. She made sure that he got home safely everyday after patrolling, and wouldn't sleep until he said he was alright. There was three situations where he got very injured and she had to take care of him, but that meant cuddling afterwards, which was a great thing for him.
At the same time that Peter felt lonely, (Y/N)'s parents started to fight even more than before and she would stay up until it was very late listening to their screaming and fights. She would show up everyday with dark bags under her eyes and her spirits buried deep down on earth. Peter was the only one to make her smile, because he had that kind of effect on her.
But one day she couldn't do it anymore. Peter was doing his homework in his room, listening to a low and calm music to set the mood, when he heard knocks on his door. He thought it was weird, because he wasn't expecting anyone, but was surprised with his girlfriend completely heartbroken in front of her. She had red and puffy eyes, with tears falling nonstop, as she couldn't barely breathe. When she saw Peter, she immediately ran for his arms.
"What's wrong baby?" He asked but she couldn't stop crying to tell him. 
"M-my parents. T-they had a pretty bad fight, and… and my mom stormed out and I don’t know where she is."
"What? That's some serious shit. Come in." He pulled her into the apartment, right into his room.
He sat in his chair to face her sitting on his bed, trying to wipe her tears away. He held her face between his hands, as if that way he could read her better. Peter gave her some forehead kisses and held her to his chest. It took a while, but she calmed down and got away from Peter.
“I need to text her, see if she needs anything.” She stated, getting her phone in hands.
“You’re right. And I’m here if you need anything, okay? Just please be okay.”
Peter’s chest aches in pain as he watched the girl he loves so worried and sad. All he wanted to do was get all of her pain to himself, so she could be happy for once. He would take it, anything to see his girl smile again. Once she sighed in relief, Peter rested, knowing everything was probably fine.
“She’s staying at my aunt’s house.”
“Good, at least she’s safe.” He said and she straddled his lap and lied her head on his chest.
“I just want this to be over! I haven’t slept properly in weeks and all I wanna do is cry. I don’t know what to do Pete. I just wanted a family.”
“You’ll have one, I promise. We can build our own family, okay? You already have Ned, MJ, Betty.”
“They are my friends.”
“Doesn’t mean they’re not family.” He stroked her hair softly, as she sobbed against his chest. “And you have me. We can start our family with just the two of us. Oh, and May will take care of you just like she takes care of me.”
“I haven’t met May yet.”
“I know, I’m sorry for that, she’s a really busy women. But you will, and you won’t have to hold on to that family that keeps hurting you, because you would have already built your own.”
“This means so much to me Pete.” She stopped sobbing and closed her eyes. “Can we cuddle?”
“I really need to finish this work.” He said looking down to his notes, but too heartbroken to let her go. “But you can stay like this until I finish, I won’t take long.”
“Tell me a happy story.”
Peter told her many stories, some about Spider Man, some about people he knew, and some about his own personal life. But while he did it, (Y/N) fell asleep listening to his voice. She was so tired that she barely could hold herself to be awake for too long. Soon Peter stopped telling her stories and focused back on his homework, while his left hand caressed her hair.
“I’m so sorry baby.” He whispered, kissing the top of her head again. 
Some noises came from outside the room, like someone was opening the door with its keys, and Peter knew seconds later that it was May because of the sound of her heels on the hard floor. He prayed to every God that she would be quiet, but knowing May for so long, he knew she was going to say something very loudly.
“Hey Peter, what do you want for dinner?” He pressed his index finger against his lips and watched his aunt freeze to see what was happening. Her expression softened when she saw who was on his lap.“What happened to her?”
“She’s just tired May. Her parents were fighting and she didn’t know where to go. And she just fell asleep right here.” He whispered and May nodded, leaning to the door and smiled.
“So this is the famous (Y/N)?” She asked and he nodded with a smirk on his face. “She’s really pretty.”
“She’s so beautiful, inside and out.” May approached him, standing behind him and stroked his hair. He inhaled the good smell of her shampoo on her hair and kissed the top of her head. “My beautiful girl.”
“Do you like her?”
“I think I love her May.” He giggled and dropped his pen over the book. “She makes me feel like no one has ever made me feel before. Happy, special, loved, but in a very singular way.”
“That’s cute.” She smiled, sitting on the edge of his bed. His eyes were locked on her and his other hand met her back. He softly rocked her, and she snored, deep into her sleep.
“She takes care of me, like… she always texts to see if I already got home safely from patrol, and if I have a problem, she’s always there to help me.” He squeezed her and she relaxed even more in his arms. She sighed, making his smile go widder. “Sometimes she does this thing where she draws constellations on my freckles with her fingers, and I kept staring at her thinking how lucky I am to have such a special girl in my life.”
“You know Pete, the last time I saw someone like this, head over heels about a girl, his name was Ben Parker. And well, I married him.” She caressed her nephews cheek, squinting her eyes. “Sometimes I think that you look so much like your uncle, more than your dad.”
“Really?” His eyes shined when he glanced back to his aunt, watching she nodding her head yes.
“Maybe not in appearance, but the way you act…” She sighed, remember her old love. “ He used to hold me like that too, when we were younger. And if I was ever sad, he simply knew how to make me feel better.”
“I really miss him.” Peter felt down for a while, but he usually loves to hear stories about his uncle.
“I miss him too. So much Peter.” She let a tear fall from her face, but she wiped it right away. 
“I’m sorry aunt May.”
“It’s okay sweetie.” She smiled, trying to comfort him. “If she is really that special, you better hold onto her and never let her go. You know that old phrase, ‘If you love her, let her go?’ ” He nodded. “That’s bullshit.”
“Great advice May.” He giggled, shaking his head.
“Now tell me about this girl...” 
…………………
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gallymagines · 5 years
Text
A Fork In The Road - Steve x Reader x Alexei (Part 1)
Summary: Steve Harrington has been your best friend since childhood. Although others thought he was kind of a jerk you’ve always known him as sweet and caring. He’s been there through every step of your path in life and recently you started to imagine him continuing to be with you on that path. Dr. Alexei is your physics professor at your local community college whose kind and happy demeanor have led you to take quite a liking to him on more than just a professional level. With emotions raging and the fact that someone will be left heartbroken, you must make the ultimate decision and choose which road to travel down.
A/N: Not what I usually post but I’ve been on a Stranger Things binge and got inspired. In this story, Alexei did not get shot at the fair and is living near Hawkins. Also, I used google translate.
Word Count: 4.1K
Warnings: None
___________________
September 7th, 1985
The cool breeze swept through your hair and the sunbeams warmed your skin as you walked down the main street of your town towards the entrance of the local video store. This had become a common routine for you on days you weren’t attending your classes at Hawkins Community College. You’d get up, get ready, take the 15-minute walk from your house and arrive at the video store almost an hour after it opened. Why? Well to hang out with your childhood bestie, Steve Harrington, of course! 
After you guys graduated from Hawkins High School and all of the crazy paranormal stuff that had been occurring in the town subsided, Steve decided he wanted to make some money before heading off to college. He previously worked at Scoops Ahoy, an ice cream shop in the Starcourt Mall. Of course, that was before it was destroyed by Russians and the Mindflayer. Working at the video store Steve would explain to others that he wanted to give himself a “financial headstart”. You, on the other hand, knew the truth. After his breakup with Nancy, losing his ‘King Steve” status and every crazy, improbable thing that has happened in this town, he really lost track of where his life was going and what he wanted to do. He didn’t lose passion, just purpose. It made you sad to think about your best friend being so lost. It hurt even more because you knew he saw you making strides during this first semester at Hawkins CC. I mean you were practically top of all of your classes. Well, except for physics. Steve’s always been so caring and supportive of your major and life goals, but there is just something sad behind his eyes whenever you bring up school. You like to think it’s only because he doesn’t know what he’s doing about college, but deep in your gut, you get a strong feeling that it’s something else. When you see the video store you decide to push the thought out of your head and the feeling out of your gut. Pulling the door open you hear the jingle of the bell above you, as it rings to let the workers know someone is here. When you enter you see Robin at the front desk organizing the rental returns so that they can be put back on the shelves. She looks up from her work and says,
“Hey Y/N.”
She glances at the clock before turning her attention back to you.
“3 minutes earlier than your average arrival time.” She jokes
You and Robin had shared a drama class in high school. You didn’t get to know her on a personal level then but you knew she was smart, honest and very persuasive from her interactions with other students. Now though, you guys were close friends and got along really well. It was nice to have someone other than Steve to hang around. It was even better when you guys would tag team to mess with Steve.
“So where’s Captain Hair?” You ask
“In the back of store restocking shelves. Why? You want to see your boyfri-”
You threw your hand over her mouth while glaring at her. Robin pulled your hand off and started to laugh.
“Oh my god, you have it so bad for him.” She teases between laughter
“I do not!” You try to protest, a blush rising to your cheeks
“I don’t know why you don’t make a move. He likes you too!” Robin mentions
She had said this on many occasions. You wanted to believe her, you really did, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to agree. Steve was your childhood best friend. He still is your best friend. But that’s all he’d probably be to you. A friend. As you and Steve grew up, you were always together, and the older you got the more you realized you had a strong affinity for him. He was sweet, funny, caring, not to mention really cute. You had expressed these feelings to Robin but never to Steve.
“You know I can’t do that,” You start to reply “If I-”
You’re cut off by Robin saying,
“Yeah yeah, if you tell him how you feel and he doesn’t feel the same way it’ll ruin your friendship. You’ve said it at least 20 times.”
She looks down at her notepad and makes a tally mark.
“26 times to be exact.” she finishes
“I just can’t-”
You’re cut off again but this time it’s because a pair of arms wrap around your waist and spin you around. You know who the arms belong to and start to laugh.
“Y/N! You’re here!” Steve exclaims
“Of course I’m here, it’s Saturday.” You joke
Steve smiles before asking “Sorry I cut you off, what were you saying to Robin? You just can’t what?”
You shoot a warning glance to Robin before turning your eyes back to Steve. He waits in anticipation of your answer and you reply,
“I just can’t...uh do good in physics. I’m having a lot of trouble in that class.”
“Well, I could help you study again tonight if you want,” Steve suggests
“You’ve helped me study since the first day of class. It helps a little but I can’t fully grasp the concepts.” You complain
“Well, why don’t you go and talk to your teacher? I’m sure they’d be willing to help you.” Steve suggests
You nod your head.
“Yeah, that probably is a good idea. I’ll do it on Monday, as for today though I’m here to be with you.” You reply
Steve smiles and you can’t help but feel your stomach flutter a bit. The way he looks at you with so much happiness just fills your heart to the brim. If only you could tell him that though. You’re pulled from your thoughts when he grabs your hand and pulls you towards the back where he was working. Once you showed up at the video store you guys would play the same game over and over again. Back and forth you guys would hold up a movie with the title facing forward and the description on the back, and whoever had the title facing towards them needed to guess what the plot was just by the title and movie image. Sometimes you guys were close, but a lot of times you were way off base and that’s what made the game fun.
Hours passed, customers came and went and before you knew it, it was time to close. Robin and Steve had to lock up the store so you told them you’d wait outside. As you walked out Steve watched your every move, taking in every detail, from the way your hair moved with every step to the fact that your left shoelace was coming untied. Once you exited though Robin spoke up and said,
“So when are you gonna say something dingus?”
Steve fell out of his trance and asked,
“What do you mean?”
“You like her. And don’t give me that ‘of course I do she’s my best friend’ bs again. You like her.” Robin retorts
“So what if I do? It’s not like she likes me like that.” Steve complains
Robin looks down at the desk drawing something.
“What are you doing?” Steve asks
“Finally giving you a ‘you rule’ tally for admitting your feelings but also adding a ‘you suck’ tally for admitting it to the wrong person.” Robin states
“Thanks.” Steve replies monotonously
“Just take a chance, you’ll never know if you never try!” Robin mentions
Steve rolls his eyes but nods his head. He knows she’s right. He’s just...nervous. How could he ever find the right words to express how he feels for you. How he’s always felt for you. Nancy, all the girls he talked to in high school, all the girls at Scoops Ahoy, all of it was to just push away his strong feelings for you. Did it work? A bit. When he was with Nancy he almost convinced himself that everything between you two was strictly platonic. But every time he looked into those eyes of yours it was always undeniable. He really REALLY liked you.
“I’ll finish locking up, go be with your girl friend, not girlfriend.” Robin remarks
Steve waves goodbye to his co-worker and friend before heading out. When he exits you look up at him and ask,
“Is Robin coming?”
“Nah she’s got some stuff to do. Want to sleepover my place tonight?” Steve questions
“Sure.” You answer
You had been sleeping over at Steve’s for almost as long as you’d been friends. At this point, it was just a tradition and your parents assumed if you weren’t home that night, you were probably there. Heading up the stairs you made your way towards his bedroom and opened the door. His house was your house. Literally. You had as much of your stuff here as you did at your own home. Your own toothbrush, hairbrush, shampoo, space in the fridge, chair at the dining room table and even a couple of drawers full of clothes in Steve’s room. You grabbed a T-shirt and a pair of pajama shorts and walked to the bathroom to put them on. When you came back to the room Steve was already in his bed in a plain white undershirt and probably his boxers. It's always what he slept in so you assumed it was that again. You didn’t mind though, it was just normal to you. Lifting the blankets you got on the other side of his bed. As children, you would share his when sleeping over so it just became routine. When you guys got older though you questioned if it was still okay, especially after your crazy middle school sex ed teacher claimed that if boys and girls looked at each other near a bed they would both get STDs and die. You guys agreed that if you sleep back to back it would still be okay to share, and so you both continued to do that even though you knew her claim was wrong now. Sometimes you wondered what would happen if you faced him. You wished you didn’t sleep back to back, you wanted to face him and look in his eyes as he wrapped his arms around you. It wouldn’t happen though...so you took what you could get and laid with your back facing him. As you turned the lamp off on your side of the bed you quietly said to Steve,
“Good night.”
You fell asleep soon after. Steve, on the other hand, was lying awake. With his back facing you, he glanced over his shoulder, but all he saw was your back. This was normal for him. Every time you slept over he would look to see if this time you were facing him and every time you weren’t. He wished you did though. Steve’s mind raced with the thoughts of what Robin had said. If he didn’t make a move he would never know. And god, did he want to know badly if you felt the same way about him that he did about you. With Robin’s words repeating over and over in his head, Steve took a deep breath and whispered to himself.
“I’m going to do it.”
He slowly tried to work out a plan about how to tell you how he felt. He needed to do it, but if he was going to do it, he was going to do it right. He continued to think but as time passed Steve grew more and more tired. His back still facing yours, he fell asleep.
September 9th, 1985
The alarm of your clock wakes you up as you groggily look at the time. The clock reads 9:03. 
“Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.” you yell jumping out of bed
You slept through your alarm. It wasn’t the first time but this was the latest it ever happened. If you were going to get to the 9:20 shuttle bus to the community college then you had to move fast, otherwise, you would be late. You quickly ran around your room searching for half-decent clothes to wear. Throwing on a white tank top, you tucked it into a black mid-thigh skater skirt. You then threw on a pair of black keds and a red and blue plaid button up that was “borrowed” from Steve. Grabbing your backpack you raced out of your room, quickly brushed your teeth, spritzed some of your mom’s cherry body spray and rushed out the door. There was literally no time to do anything else. No time to shower, no time to eat what mom cooked, no time for anything. You needed to catch that bus. Usually, you would walk but today you had to run as if your life depended on it so you could get to the shuttle stop. When you got there you were out of breath and a bit sweaty but you hopped on the bus just in time. Catching your breath in the bus seat, you noticed the growling of your stomach and the headache you had from exerting so much energy. Ignoring the problem you arrived at Hawkins CC and made your way to class. Today you had physics, your worst class. The professor, Dr. Alexei, was very kind to all his students and very knowledgeable about the subject. He had come from Russia a little over a year ago and only knew so much English. Enough to talk and teach but he still stumbled on his words here and there. As you walked into the door to your classroom you greeted,
“Good Morning Professor.”
Dr. Alexei nodded towards you with a smile and replied,
“Good morning Y/N.”
You went and sat at your desk as you waited for others to arrive. As for right now, it was only you and Dr. Alexei in the room. You watched as he worked on some papers intently at his desk. For someone around 10 years older than you, he was quite handsome. His rolled-up sleeves on his dress shirt, his naturally messy hair, and the way his glasses fell on his nose were quite attractive to some of the girls in the class, including you. On top of it, he had a positive personality that was intoxicating. In a trance, you looked at your professor biting your bottom lip. When he looked up though you looked away at your notebook. As you looked down at your notes and forced those thoughts out of your head, your stomach growled louder and your head started to bother you more. At 10:15 when class started you felt sick but you decided to push through it. The clock went slowly and everything started to feel like mush. You forced yourself to focus on the board and take notes but your head was spinning and you started to get lightheaded. The person next to you asked,
“Are you okay?”
It was too late for that though, you had already passed out and fallen from your seat. Dr. Alexei stopped his lecture and went over to you. He was distressed at the sight of you passed out on the floor. He looked towards the class of concerned students and said,
“Rest of the class canceled. I will take her for help.”
The students shuffled out as Alexei picked you up and carried you to his office. He placed you on the couch before calling a professor from the nursing program to come check on you. When the nursing instructor arrived she immediately heard the sound of growling from your stomach. Putting a cold compress on your head she turned to Alexei and said,
“Don’t worry it’s nothing bad. Your student most likely passed out from not eating, since her stomach is growling so loud. Let her rest and give her some food when she wakes up. Call my office again when too so I can do a checkup and a concussion test since her head hit the floor.”
Alexei nods yes and the instructor leaves. He closes the door and goes to sit at his desk to do some grading but mainly keep an eye on you. After about 30 minutes you slowly start to regain consciousness. As you do, your body starts to move and your head falls off its position on the couch. Alexei makes his way over to you and gently places your head back on the armrest. He smells the cherry fragrance on you. He always enjoyed when you wore that scent and sometimes he wondered what made you choose that specific one. Did you know he liked cherry? Did you wear it for him? He knew he shouldn’t think like that. Professor-student relationships were forbidden to occur. He could lose his job if anything happened, and without a job, he’d lose his work visa and be sent home. He’d be labeled a traitor. He could be tortured or even worse killed. He already had an attempt on his life once. For all these reasons, it was quite risky for him to have feelings like this for you, but the way he saw you looking at him in the class made him wonder if it would be worth it. He started to talk to himself as you continued to stir. Awakening enough to hear again, you listen as he muses to himself. You can only kind of make out one word that he mumbles,
“прекрасный,” He says
You have no clue what it means though since you don’t know Russian. As your eyes flutter open you look around and notice that this isn’t the classroom. This is an office. Dr. Alexei hands you some food in a container and says,
“пельмень. Pelmeni good food, have some.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t take your food!” You say as your stomach yells at you.
“You are hungry, please eat.” Dr. Alexei asks gesturing to your growling stomach
You nod your head and start to eat but then question,
“But what will you eat now?”
Dr. Alexei smiles and grabs one of the dumpling-like foods from the container before sitting down at his desk seat.
“I eat one, happy?” He jokes
You smile at his joke and nod your head yes.
“Uh, professor?” you ask in a curious tone between bites
He turns his attention to you as you continue,
“Well, how did I get here?”
“I carry you from the classroom to the couch. You fell from the desk.” He responds
“Oh okay.” You say before continuing to eat the food he gave you
Dr. Alexei turns to his office phone and dials in a number.
“She is awake,” He says to the person on the other line before hanging up.
A couple minutes go by and a woman in scrubs shows up. She explains that she’s a teacher from the nursing program and just wanted to check that you were okay before going on your way. She looked at your eyes, ears, mouth, took blood pressure, asked some questions about the year, who is the president, and some other general stuff.
“Well, it looks like you didn’t hit your head too hard! You should be okay but if there’s any drastic pain or memory loss I’d suggest heading straight to the hospital.” She says “You’re free to leave if you feel well enough to.”
The nursing instructor then walked out the door. Before you left you had to ask your professor for help with the concepts you were learning. Ugh, this was so embarrassing though. What if another student heard. You looked at the open door and carefully walked over to it. Shutting it gently, you turned your attention to your professor. He looked at you with wide eyes. You were confused but nevertheless continued.
“Professor, I need to talk to you about something...I feel a bit embarrassed about it but I really think it’s important and that it needs to be addressed.”
As Dr. Alexei looked at you he felt a sense of worry and anticipation build in his gut. Were you going to tell him that you felt something between you two? What would he do if you did? He honestly didn’t know. You looked at him and continued,
“I know I’m doing poorly in class and was wondering if you could give me some extra tutoring?”
“Oh.” is all that came out of his mouth.
You started to backtrack, thinking he didn’t want to do that.
“If that’s not okay it’s fine but I just wanted to ask and all-”
“No, no. It is okay. I can help. Monday after class next week we start.” Dr. Alexei interjected
“Oh good. Well, I’ll be heading out then.” You replied
“Will you be okay to walk?” He asked
“I think so,” you answered
“I will come with you to be safe.” He stated
Grabbing your backpack you walked out of Dr. Alexei’s office and towards the front of the building. It was an awkwardly silent walk but you got the front of the building you saw a car you recognized. A Ferrari 250 GT California. The car that Steve’s dad kept in the garage and never used. And who was there leaning on top of the car? Why the man himself, Steve. He approached you and Dr. Alexei asking,
“So you ready to go?”
“What are you doing here?” you questioned him
“I was at the desk when I saw you run past the video store this morning. Though you might need a ride.” He jokes
You hit him on the arm and playfully yelled,
“Jerk!”
“Wait. Is that my shirt?” Steve asks
“What?? No.....” you said exaggerated
“You thief. You stole that from my closet. I thought I lost it.” Steve says in a fake-angry tone
When you turn to look away from Steve you see your professor looking back and forth between you and him, visibly confused.
‘Oh! How rude of me. Steve this is my physics professor Dr. Alexei. Dr. Alexei this is a longtime friend of mine, Steve.” you introduce
Steve extends his hand and Dr. Alexei takes it. They shake and then Steve puts an arm around your shoulders. He looks at Dr. Alexei and comments,
“I’m sorry she’s doing so poorly in your class. I’ve been trying to help her study, but she’s just not that good at science. Never has been.”
“Hey!” you say to Steve “Just so you know I took your advice and I will be getting some tutoring starting Monday next week. Correct?”
Dr. Alexei turns his attention to you and answers,
“Correct. Monday after class is our date.”
“Date?” Steve asks you with confusion
“He means like an appointment, I told you he’s still getting the hang of English. It’s a very complicated language.” You answer 
“Oh woo. That’s good.” He says while wiping his forehead with the back of his hand “I thought you got a boyfriend and didn’t tell your best pal Steve.”
“Oh my.” you laugh
You look at your professor and say,
“Well, I guess I’ll be going. See you on Wednesday for lab professor.”
Dr. Alexei nods his head but does not say anything. As you and Steve start to leave, his arm still around your shoulders, he comments to your professor,
“Nice to meet you.”
Alexei watches as you two walk to the bright red car. He sees how Steve opens the door for you and the cocky way he slides across the hood. He notices how you laugh at his actions and how your eyes focus on him. He lets out a deep breath and promptly turns around to return to his office. To everyone else, you might be just one of his students but to him, you were much more. He had no clue what to do but he knew he had to do something.
Tags: @hazeofeleven​
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sunnytumbies · 5 years
Text
just follow my yellow light (and ignore all those big warning signs)
Warning! This fic includes mentions of depression, anxiety, needles (in a medical setting), and dealing with grief/trauma. Please stay safe should you choose to read! 
A/N: This is also a more plot-heavy fic, with most of the fiendery occurring in the very last sections, so please be aware of that!  Word count: 8499 Title: “Yellow Light” by Of Monsters and Men
The thing about hospitals is that they’re all the same.  
Cal understands why people hate them—really, he does—but sitting here on the exam table, the paper crinkling beneath him, a blood pressure cuff tightening around his bicep, he can’t help but feel...safe. Understood.  
He’s biased, he guesses. He grew up in one, doodling on prescription pads with crayons, running his favorite toy car along the floor (weaving around the nurse’s practical clogs on his hands and knees, look, Mom, look at how fast I am!), his mother Marianne bouncing him on her lap as she updated charts on her computer even though he was far too old for that, stray blonde hair that escaped from her tight bun tickling his cheek. Every once in a while, she’d turn to him with a wide, warm smile.  
The whirring of blood pressure machines were his lullaby. The smell of antiseptic was the closest he got to the smell of home, and was in fact the very smell that followed him home from work with Marianne, permeated the whole house along with her tired sighs and her whispered arguments with his father Henry when she thought Cal was sleeping.  
So, yeah. Cal likes hospitals. Don’t overanalyze it.  
The nurse—Alicia, today—gives him a small, tired smile, the expression of someone who genuinely cares but is too busy to do much about it. “Dr. Moore says everything looks good, Cal. Just make sure to keep an eye on your lungs. Don’t bind for too long and keep doing your injections around the same time each week, okay? You know where to find us if you need something.”  
“Thanks, Alicia,” Cal says, but she’s already whisking out the door. Cal wonders how many patients she has. Alicia oversees the hospital volunteer program, and even though Cal's known her for years, he swears her face is as young and beautiful as it was when he was a child. She’s funny and whip-smart and strong and she likes Cal best, he thinks, but lately she’s looked so tired. 
He wonders if she’s one of the nurses who really cares about all of her patients. He wonders if that kind of thing is sustainable.   
Alicia cares, he thinks.   
He’s walking down the corridor, idly rubbing at the bandage across his forearm—and yeah, okay, if he has to name one part of the hospital experience that he could do without, it’s the blood draws—and he’s so fixated on reaching under the bandage to rub at the stinging skin there that he almost runs directly into Sweater Guy, who reaches out preemptively to steady Cal by the shoulders. 
“Shit, sorry,” Cal mutters reflexively, then looks up to see that it’s him and, well, fuck.  
Cal’s been volunteering at the hospital for six months or so, now, answering call buttons for the nurses and giving directions to confused family members and just grunt work, really, something—nay, anything—for him to put on his resume, and at every single shift he’s volunteered for, he’s seen Sweater Guy.  
He’s Cal’s height but twice as skinny, collarbones jutting out underneath his sweaters (his endless sweaters, usually layered over collared shirts and rolled up to the elbows, no matter how swelteringly hot it gets outside). The sweaters bother Cal more than they should, because they all look expensive, and yeah, sue him, he’s a little bitter, because he buys one new pair of shoes a year and calls it splurging. He’s a candy striper, Cal thinks. He wears a pair of yellow-tinted glasses that Cal cannot for the life of him make sense of, constantly slipping down his nose (and yes the yellow compliments the rich brown of Sweater Guy’s skin beautifully, not that Cal has noticed, thanks). He has what Zara always insisted is sex hair, expression perpetually annoyed, like he always has something better to doing.  
And he avoids the fuck out of Cal.  
“It’s not on purpose,” Zara said one day a few months ago, leaning conspiratorially  over their little table in the hospital cafeteria, mouth full of mediocre tuna fish sandwich, because Zara is a godless heathen who enjoys tuna fish sandwiches. “He’s just...busy, you know? He doesn’t avoid you more than he avoids anyone else.” 
“Except he does,” Cal muttered, toying with the bottle cap from his soda. More than once he’d made eye contact with him in the hall, and then watched him completely switch directions, head ducked down low over his shoulders.  
Not long after that, Zara--who had, until then, occupied the third room in he and Amy’s apartment--left school to attend a community college program for mortuary science, because Zara is, in addition to being a godless heathen, a chiefly ridiculous person, and now Cal doesn’t have anyone to complain to about this.  
It shouldn’t bother him, except...Cal is likeable. He is. He charms nurses as though that’s what he’s getting volunteer credit for. Babies smile at him on the street. He’s likeable.  
So what the fuck, you know?  
“I apologize,” Sweater Guy says now, and Cal is hyper-aware of the guy’s chapped lips, of his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down nervously in his throat. He makes himself look away.  
“You apologize? I’m the one who didn’t see you, dude,” Cal says, and God damn does that yellow sweater he’s wearing look nice on him. It shouldn’t. Yellow is categorically the worst color. Cal’s pissed.  
Sweater Guy actually cracks a smile. “Yes, well. I’m glad we avoided a collision.”  
And just like that, he’s walking off, and Cal doesn’t know what he’s supposed to make of it, if it means anything at all, but surely first contact after six months of silence means something.  
“Hey,” he calls out before he can think better of it. “What’s your name?”  
Sweater Guy stops and blinks, surprised, then pauses for a minute like he has to think about it. “Oh. My name is Quincy Washington.” He swallows. “What’s yours?”  
“Cal.”  
“It’s nice to meet you, Cal,” Quincy says softly, and Cal watches him walk away until he disappears around the corner.  
Cal has a routine. He’s never been particularly organized, never been the type of person with color-coded planners or who lays out his outfits the night before, but he has a routine for check-up days: after picking up his inhaler refills and testosterone from the hospital pharmacy, he’ll treat himself to an iced chai tea latte with almond milk, hot if it’s cold outside or he’s feeling adventurous. He shifts his weight from foot to foot as he waits in line to place his order, his lips flicking up into a small little smile as he pulls out his phone, realizing he finally has an update, deciding to send it to the group chat he still has with Amy and Zara: 
I figured out his name!!  
Amy texts back immediately, and Cal’s little smile splits into a full-blown grin. ???????????
Sweater Guy, Cal types, shifting forward as the line moves. It’s Quincy Washington, apparently. 
Cal grins when he sees a message from Zara appear: r u sure he gave u his real name? that sounds pretty made up ngl :* but hey u finally talked to him!!!! told u it wouldn’t be hard!!!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 
Cal rolls his eyes a little, but good-naturedly. Zara was always convinced that Cal has a crush he’s not addressing, a conspiracy theory that has infected Amy as well, because no one fixates that hard if they DON’T have a crush, Cal, come on. Cal maintains that while he isn’t blind, there are about a million things more interesting about Sweater G--Quincy than how attractive he admittedly is. 
Cal: In my defense, he talked to me first, and it’s only because I ran into him. 
Zara: charming! did u gaze longingly into his eyes? did he gaze longingly into urs?
Cal rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. Well it wasn’t his EYES I was looking at. ;) (I  was looking at his stupid yellow sunglasses.) 
Zara: silly! u should’ve asked him if he needs roomies. it would be an honor if my old room went to The Cause :)))
Cal’s lips droop, the smile sliding off his face as he pockets his phone. He knows Zara meant nothing by it, but he’s been compartmentalizing the roommate situation until now, and it’s not something he can particularly deal with at this moment. He doesn’t have to, as it happens--at that moment, an impatient “--sir? Sir, may I please take your order?” breaks through his mental abstraction, clearly not for the first time, and he shakes his head to clear it, cheeks flushing as he approaches the counter, mumbling apologies. He orders his drink, iced chai tea latte, please,  making sure to leave a hefty tip in the jar. 
Eager to spare himself further social anxiety, Cal grabs his drink as soon as it’s placed on the counter, mumbling another apology as he grabs a straw and walks briskly out of the exit closest to the parking lot, sipping eagerly at the drink (he swears it’s even better than usual) and what do you fucking know. 
“Quincy,” Cal says when he reaches his car, clamping down on the little thrill he gets from knowing the name. He swirls the drink a little like some kind of movie character with a glass of wine. He’s chill. He’s cool. 
“Oh. Hello, Cal,” Quincy says sheepishly. He’s standing at the front of a car—not just a car, the car—its hood propped open in a universal sign of defeat. “I seem to...be having some car trouble.”  
“No fucking way,” Cal breathes out, because some things are too strange to be coincidences.  
“I’m...I’m sorry?”  
Cal shakes himself. “No, you’re good, sorry. It’s just that, uh. This is your car?”  
It’s a Mercedes AMG, and it’s been parked next to Cal’s car every day for a couple months now. Cal’s awe hasn’t dulled with time. He figured it belonged to some paranoid doctor, rich and extravagant and scared enough of car crashes to buy a luxury armored SUV. The fact that it belongs to Quincy isn’t strange all on its own—because sure, whatever, Quincy is well-off, that’s a thing that happens to people—but the odds of the day he realizes it belongs to Quincy being the same day he learns Quincy’s name after months of wondering and silence?  
Well.  
“Yes. It’s practically new,” Quincy says sadly, “but I’m hopeless with cars. It’s probably something rather foolish.”  
And then, because Cal is a masochist, he finds himself saying “Well, I know a thing or two about cars,” and yeah, okay, this is happening, apparently.  
“You do?” Quincy’s expression is nothing short of hopeful. “Cal, I would be incredibly grateful.”  
“Of course,” Cal says, already moving toward the car, because who is he to say no to a beautiful boy in a yellow sweater, to a beautiful car with its hood propped open? “It’s no trouble. Keys?”  
“In the ignition.”  
Cal forces himself to focus on the task at hand, even though sitting in the driver’s seat makes him feel downright giddy. He tells himself it’s the car’s immaculate leather interiors, the sheer novelty of sitting in a ridiculous, extravagant vehicle, and not the boy standing in front of the hood with his arms folded across his chest in defeat. He takes a breath.  
Although, he thinks as he twists the key in the ignition, surely this is an acceptable thing to be intrigued by. Why is unassuming Quincy, who looks no older than Cal, driving an armored SUV—and not just any armored SUV, but one that can sustain machine guns and hand grenades?  
He guesses people could say the same about him and his car, because the upkeep of classic cars is a bit of a bitch, but Cal’s beat-up inherited ‘59 Chevy Apache isn't machine gun proof, and it certainly isn't new. She's valuable, of course, but she was passed down to him, not bought fresh off the lot, and that value is probably tempered by years of dings and scratches. She's not a symptom of extravagance the way this absolute mammoth must be. So. Not the same, actually.  
When he tries to crank up the car, it makes a horrible grinding sound that he knows well, the needles on dashboard instruments shuddering. Cal takes great pains to compose his amused grin into something more sympathetic.  
“Good news and bad news,” he says, slamming the car door behind him reflexively before cringing. This isn’t the Apache, with its squeaky doors and stubborn latches, and that door alone probably cost more than Cal’s college tuition. “The good news is it’s nothing serious. You’ve just got a dead battery.”  
Quincy slumps a little with what Cal assumes is relief. “That seems manageable.”  
“The bad news, though,” Cal says. “Do you have jumper cables?”  
“No,” Quincy replies, ducking his head like he’s embarrassed.  
“See, that’s what I was worried about.” Cal gestures to his own car. He sips at his latte, and is genuinely alarmed to realize it’s almost empty. It’s delicious, but still, he’s only had the drink for twenty minutes at the most. “I don’t have mine either. I--” Cal considers the location of his jumper cables, in a heap in the living room of the apartment, leftover from a Skype debate with Zara centered on a story her classmate insisted was true concerning jumper cables and nipples. Cal doesn’t regret the use of a visual aid--he won the debate, after all, because seriously, have you seen jumper cable clamps, there is no way--but he decides this is not something he needs to share with Sweater Guy. “They’re at home. I can go grab them and come back to give you a jump, though? Our place is literally right around the corner.”  
“I wouldn’t want to impose,” Quincy hedges, a little desperately. Cal sees him battling internally between the need to be polite and the need to get his car running again.  
“You’re not imposing,” Cal says, “because I offered. Seriously. Apologizing to me when I ran into you! Thinking you’re an imposition after I offered you something! You’re too nice for your own good, Quince.” The nickname slips out without Cal’s consent, and he feels the tips of his ears warm.  
Quincy looks at him, tilting his head curiously. “I have an anxiety disorder,” he says after a moment, very plainly, and Cal feels like the biggest asshole in the world. He feels like an even bigger asshole because his knee-jerk reaction is to laugh, because what a mood, really.  
To his abject horror, the laughter actually bubbles out, warm and genuine and fuck, he needed it, but he can also feel himself blushing crimson, because Jesus Christ, Cal, this is not the kind of reaction you should be having to this information. “I’m sorry,” he manages after a too-long moment. “I’m so sorry, oh my God, I promise I’m not laughing at you. It’s just...fuck, we’re not allowed to be that blunt, you know?”  
Quincy inclines his head again, an unspoken question, and yeah, okay, you made this bed, Cal, now lie in it.  
“I just mean, like...okay. Example. I’m chronically ill, right? I have asthma, thanks for that, genetics, but anyway the point is that I tell people I’m sick and they’re like, get well soon! They don’t understand that I don’t...want that. They don’t get that I’m sick, and that it’s okay! That’s fine! If you’re sick, you either have to be dying, or you have to be overcoming it or some shit. I just…I wish I could introduce myself like hi, I’m Cal, I have depression and my lungs don’t work very well. But I can’t, because that’s weird, that makes healthy people feel awkward, and our whole lives are about making healthy people feel better about our fucking lives.” He takes a breath, a little more painfully than he would prefer because it's goddamn cold out. “I just mean...I don’t know. It’s refreshing.”  
Well, okay. Emotional intensity with Sweater Guy is not what Cal banked on happening today, but Sweater Guy is Quincy Washington, and now that he’s looking at him up close, he kind of feels like he’s demystifying him or...or something. The expensive sweater, he sees, is fraying at the sleeve from being picked at nervously. That annoyed expression, the one Cal always interpreted as aloof, is the face Quincy makes when his glasses start slipping down his nose. His sex hair is just...really good hair, perhaps a little mussed at the roots from a tendency to run his hands through it with the air of an exasperated father in a movie, and what’s wrong with that, really? 
Sweater Guy, as it happens, is just a guy.  
Anyway, Cal’s shifting his weight awkwardly from foot to foot, feeling the full force of the straight-up monologue he’s just delivered, but then Quincy is saying “That’s exactly it” in this relieved goddamn voice, so maybe things are okay after all.  “What is that? Why do they make it so weird? It’s not as though it’s contagious.”  
“Right? I don’t know. I’m just kind of exhausted of healthy people.” He inclines his head, toward his car, moving to the driver’s side because, again, it’s cold as shit and his lungs ache and he really should get Quincy that jump. “I’ll go grab those cables.”  Something in the pit of his stomach grumbles at the movement, and he frowns, a reflexive hand coming up to rest on his belly. Weird. 
“Oh, yeah,” Quincy says, like he’s forgotten what the whole point of this was (and doesn’t that just make something warm pool in Cal’s chest, God, he’s so screwed), and casts a withering glance toward the hospital doors. Cal looks at him for a second, shivering underneath his layers in front of his out-of-commission car, and before he can think about it any further than that he’s saying “You can ride with me there and back, if you want? It’s awfully cold out.”  
Quincy positively beams. “I would like that very much, Cal.”  
Okay then.  
Amy is doing an honest-to-God tarot reading in the middle of the living room when Cal gets home, complete with candles and a red cloth draped over their coffee table, and isn’t that just their whole relationship summarized. He throws Quincy a put-upon glance over his shoulder, and Quincy bites his lip to keep from laughing. Has Cal mentioned that Quincy is attractive? God fucking damn it.  
“Permission to enter the divination room?” he says in lieu of a hello, and Amy startles, nearly knocking over one of the candles. 
“Cal!” Amy says, scandalized, staggering to her feet. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming! I would’ve gotten rid of these!” 
Cal can’t help but chuckle. “I’m not going to have an asthma attack from candles, Ames.” 
“You could! Go--go stand in the kitchen or something! Make your friend help me!” 
Cal gives Quincy a look, a sort of see what I have to deal with? shrug, and Quincy responds with an amused smirk. “I’d be happy to help,” he says in a tone that sounds like he’s honest-to-God fucking with Cal. “What tarot deck is that?” 
The kitchen is essentially attached to the living room, the two only separated by a narrow doorway, but Cal shrugs and takes this opportunity to wriggle out of his jacket and grab a soda from the fridge. He has a feeling he’s gonna be here for a while. As he reaches into the fridge, however, that strange little twinge deep in his belly makes itself known again, and he grimaces as a cramp seizes his insides. He closes the refrigerator empty-handed, leaning a suddenly-clammy forehead against the cool stainless steel. This does not bode well. 
“So how do you know Cal, again?” Amy is saying just as he’s composed himself enough to re-enter the living room. Quincy has migrated to the couch, at least, albeit with his back ramrod straight, Amy apparently having been satisfied that Cal is not in any immediate mortal peril. 
“He volunteers at the hospital with me,” Cal says before Quincy can say anything, and when Amy glances over at him, Amy mouths Sweater Guy over Quincy’s head. Amy’s eyes bulge, so Cal forges ahead before she can say something to embarrass him. “His battery died, so I came here for the jumper cables.”  
“Riiight, the hospital,” Amy says, a barely restrained grin in her voice, and God, when Amy tells Zara that Cal brought Sweater Guy home he is never going to hear the end of it.  “Did you put up the fliers, by the way? We’re really gonna struggle this month if we don’t get it figured out soon,” and Cal looks up sharply, idly placing a hand on his stomach when it protests at the movement. Why is Amy bringing up the roommate fliers now?  
“I know,” Cal says slowly, trying to communicate please don’t do this now with just a glance.. He sits on the couch next to Quincy, careful to leave a socially acceptable distance between them. “I know, Amy. But...no, I didn’t.” He wipes sweat from his brow with the back of his sleeve, his stomach starting to churn in earnest. 
“Cal,” Amy chastises, and Cal thinks he would prefer anger to disappointment. “Did you talk to anyone, at least? It’ll be easier if it’s someone we know for, like, negotiating rent and stuff.”  
“Um,” Cal says eloquently, but then Quincy is saying, “Actually, he talked to me,” and alright then, that took a turn.  
“Oh,” Amy says, skeptical, but her face has brightened nonetheless. “Really?”  
“That’s part of why I brought him with me to grab the cables,” Cal says, because he’s rolling with this, apparently. He really is never going to live this down. “To show him the room.”  
“I wanted to see it for myself,” Quincy says sagely.  
“Uh, yeah,” Cal adds lamely.  
Amy is giving him this proud goddamn grin, and Cal is having trouble looking at it, because seriously, it shouldn't be like this. Amy has left this whole roommate search up to him, which is a nice gesture—Amy could live with anyone, with her natural inclination toward small talk and her compulsive baking which is the least unwelcome coping mechanism and her goddamn optimism, but Cal, with his bound chest and testosterone injections, has a lot more to lose here. The thing is, Cal, for all his charm and his mock-flirting and his wolfish grins, has a hard time with people, so him bringing home a coworker (or whatever he's supposed to call Quincy—coworker doesn't feel right, and Cal's trying really hard not to overanalyze that) isn't exactly a common occurrence. Amy is a proud parent smiling at her kid for making friends on the first day of kindergarten, and Cal loves her for it, he does, but it also chafes against him like his chest binder on a hot day.  
"Well, go ahead," Amy finally says, breaking what could have turned into an awkward silence. "Don't let me stop you! I'm Amy, by the way. What's your name? I’m not sure I caught it." She glances at Cal as she says with a terribly unsubtle wink.  
"Quincy Washington," Quincy says in that same quiet way he told Cal. "It's wonderful to meet you, Amy. I’m a fan of tarot myself and you have an excellent eye for ambiance."  
"Thanks!" Amy beams, and Cal wrenches himself off the couch and ushers Quincy down the hallway before Amy loops him into a conversation about the history of tarot or some shit. Cal loves her to death, but knows she’s practically chomping at the bit. He won’t be surprised if she’s  texting Zara as he speaks. 
"You did me a solid, there, Quincy," Cal says quietly when they're far enough down the hall to be out of Amy’s earshot, hyper-aware of how sluggish he is. "We can just waste a little time and then I'll get you that jump."  
"May I see the room?" Quincy asks, and Cal's heart just about stops entirely. "I'm glad to have done you...a solid, but I do happen to be looking for a room to let." His voice catches strangely and unfamiliarly around the slang.  
Cal stares at him for a second. "Seriously?"  
"I am very serious. If you'll have me, of course," Quincy says then, rushing through the second sentence and looking self-conscious about it.  
"No, I just..." Cal says in something like disbelief, then shakes himself off. "Anyway. I guess I'll show you the room, then?"  
"Please," Quincy says, so Cal leads the way.  
"It's kind of small," he says apologetically, pushing open the door and flicking on the lights. They're Edison bulbs, and they cast the room in buttery yellow. "And obviously we'd move this stuff out of here if you moved in."  
Quincy doesn’t say anything, and Cal turns to see that his face is frozen in genuine, slack-jawed awe. It's more than a little endearing, and Cal tucks his fond little grin away before he speaks. "You're a book guy, huh?" 
"You could say that," Quincy breathes, and moves forward a little. "May I—?"  
"Go for it," Cal says, and Quincy reaches out to touch one of the bookcases.  
The room belonged to Zara until she moved out, the smallest room by far but also the one with the most windows, all against the far wall looking out toward the main road. Pushed against the opposite wall are three wood-paneled curio cabinets that Henry once used as bookshelves, packed tight with the books he cared about most in this world. Many of them are leather-bound and there is more than one special edition, all of them older than Cal's grandparents.  
"They're beautiful," Quincy finally says after a moment, "but why do you have rare books in your apartment?"  
Cal snorts, because it is so contrary to what he was expecting, but also because this is a valid question. "Honestly," he says, "I just couldn't bear to part with them. They were my dad's." The words are out before he realizes he's just dropped the dead dad bomb, so he forges ahead. "Uh, like I said, we'd get them out of here before you moved in."  
"Or you could leave them," Quincy murmurs, eyes darting back and forth as he scans the titles. "God, is that a livre d'artist?" 
On some level, Cal registers that this a very pretentious question, and also that there is just something strange about the way Quincy speaks, like everything he says has been polished beforehand. On another, baser level, he finds it frustratingly hot. "Uh, that sounds like a question I should maybe know the answer to, but honestly, these were my dad's thing. I haven't opened up any of the books since he died. I keep the shelves dusted, but I'm not much of a literature person."   
"Are you a book person?" Quincy asks.   
"Come on, you can be one or the other. People can like books without liking capital L literature," he says, turning to look at Cal with this ridiculously excited expression. It's kind of heartwarming. "You know, people who hate Hemingway but loved Twilight."   
Cal may or may not have the entire saga on the much smaller, far less decorative bookshelf beside his bed, but Quincy doesn't need to know that. "Interesting distinction. Yeah, I guess I am."   
"I knew it. Team Edward or Team Jacob?"   
"Wow I hate this conversation."   
Quincy smirks and turns back to the shelves with a quiet sort of reverence that makes Cal smile. It also makes his heart ache a little because it reminds him so much of his dad, but it's an ache that has dulled with the passage of time.    
"So," Cal says, trying to sound casual, "Are you a student?"  
"Yes," Quincy replies, still scanning book titles with a feverish intensity that skirts perilously close to lunacy. "I'm a senior. Are you?"  
"Yeah," Cal says thinly. There's still a chance, he tells himself, and has to catch his breath as his stomach cramps again. A low rumble has begun deep in his gut, like someone set it to simmer, his stomach doing lazy barrel rolls that make him swallow hard.  "Senior, too. Pre-med."  
"I'm a double major. Classics and Theology. Not the most practical, I know," Quincy says, sheepishly, like he's used to people reacting poorly to it.  
Fuck. God fucking damn it.  
"Oh!" Cal says, forcibly infusing his voice with something akin to enthusiasm. "That's really cool. Um. Side note, just by the way..."  
Quincy looks at him inquiringly. Fuck.  All at once, his stomach cramps harshly enough to have him seeing stars, a cold sweat breaking out across his forehead again, and he can’t quite stifle a pained moan, clutching at his roiling insides, leaning against the doorframe for support. 
“Are you okay, Cal?” Quincy takes a step toward him, evidently not too worried about whatever Cal was going to say, looking more concerned than Cal would expect from someone who avoided the fuck out of him prior to today, and he gives a pained nod, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. Something bubbles in his lower belly painfully, and it hits him all at once. 
“Fuck,” he hisses, noticing all at once how his stomach is puffy, poking out under his shirt and over the waistband of his jeans, how the cramps are accompanied by a near-constant rumble and oppressive waves of nausea. “Sorry, I’m--I  just forgot to ask for—” He swallows again, hardly able to think about the damned chai tea latte, presumably made with full fat milk, churning around inside him. “I’m...lactose intolerant,” he manages, painfully aware that this is happening in front of Sweater Guy of all people. “I forgot to ask for almond milk instead of regular.” 
“Are you alright?” Quincy sounds alarmed, eyes darting from Cal to the door and back again. “Should I get Amy? Is it an allergy, or—?” 
“No, no,” Cal manages, laughing lightly. “You sound just like her, though. It’s just—” He grimaces, clutching at a twinge of nausea— “Just a pretty gnarly tummy ache. I’ll be okay.” He allows himself to rest a hand on his belly, straightening up through immense willpower. “Seriously, let’s just...move on, if that’s alright.” 
“Of course,” Quincy murmurs, still looking rather concerned. It’s endearing, Cal thinks, even  through the fog of nausea and the embarrassment tinging his cheeks red. “I believe you were saying something?” 
“Oh,” Cal remembers, and looks at the floor. "My dad's name was Henry Kline?"  
Quincy freezes. To his credit, he reigns in the incredulous expression relatively quickly.  
"Cal," he says instead, very sincerely, turning to look at him with sad, sad eyes. "Cal, I am so sorry."  
"Don't be," Cal mumbles, looking down, rubbing at the back of his neck. His stomach lets out a loud, angry rumble, and he flushes an even deeper shade of crimson. "I just, uh, wanted you to know from me. 'Cause if you live here, you gotta understand that people are gonna talk. They always do, about us. 'Specially when they hear our last name."  
"Cal Kline," Quincy realizes all at once, and then, with that painful sincerity again, "I wouldn't listen."  
Cal smiles despite himself. "Thanks, Quincy."  
Quincy clears his throat, straightening up from where he's been crouched to pour over the books. Cal is sort of impressed at the sheer muscle tone it must’ve taken to forget he was doing a deep squat. "Cal, I have something to tell you as well."  
This is it, Cal thinks. He doesn't want the room. Doesn't want to live with the bereaved Klines. It's too much. Just give him the jump and go back to never speaking again. The anxiety stirs up his upset stomach, and he clamps down forcibly on a burp that tries to burble up. His stomach lets out a low groan in response to the air being forced back into it.   
"I was studying under Professor Kline," he says instead, and oh, okay. Which is to say, what the fucking shit, how many motherfucking coincidences can there feasibly be in one 12-hour period, but okay, it's better than what Cal was expecting. "I was a teaching assistant, and I was helping him restore his book collection." He glances back to the shelves. "I should have recognized them immediately, but I never saw them on the shelves..."  
Cal's glad Quincy isn't looking at him anymore, because he can't vouch for what his face is doing. The ache Henry left is healing, dulled with the passage of time, but it still hurts if Cal picks at it. Quincy studied with Henry. Quincy knew him in a way Cal never did, never will, his brain screams, and something about that is just, well. His stomach flips, something cramping low and urgent in his belly. 
Quincy is beautiful, and he is wearing a yellow sweater, and he likes Cal's car, and the only reason he cares that Cal's last name is Kline is because he doesn't want to be inconsiderate to Cal.  
So, fuck.  
"Well, now that we've got the awkward parts out of the way," Cal says, and Quincy flashes him a genuine smile that  is positively blinding. He recovers from his seven consecutive heart attacks before continuing, "I can show you the rest of the apartment."  
“Are you sure?” Quincy glances dubiously at Cal, who still has an arm curled around his belly. “You’re awfully pale.”
“That’s, uh—” Cal laughs nervously, feeling sicker and sicker by the moment. “Yeah. Maybe you could just...show yourself around?” At that moment, a low whine fills the apartment, a sure tell that Amy has gotten into the shower, and Cal’s stomach tightens. “Minus the bathroom, I guess. Sorry, our pipes do that when we use the shower. I’m just gonna, uh, have a seat in the living room.” 
Quincy doesn’t question this, and Cal sends up a silent cry of gratitude to whoever may be listening. He settles into his favorite crease on the sofa, looking furtively over his shoulder to make sure Quincy is occupied with checking out the patio before pressing both hands to his grumbling stomach, feeling irritable movement beneath his palms. Oh, it hurts, cramps squeezing at his lower belly like a vice, a sticky, hot nausea plaguing his tummy.  He tries in vain to soothe the ache, rubbing his hand across his bloated stomach as gently as possible, but the touch only sends up a dangerous belch that leaves him panting, hanging over the edge of the couch, the taste of chai and stomach acid coating his mouth revoltingly. 
Quincy’s self-guided tour doesn't take long; their three-bedroom student apartment doesn't exactly contain multitudes. Cal has thankfully composed himself before Quincy pokes his head into the living room. “I have seen what I need to see, I believe,” he says with that stiff formality that seems to crop up occasionally. 
"Yeah, that's the place! Nice and straightforward,” Cal says brightly, as convincingly as he can without moving around too much. “Any clutter you see is mine because Amy is an android, probably."  
Quincy smiles, and Cal's cardiac health continues to worsen, God those fucking smiles. "Can you prove it?"  
"Irrefutably. Evidence: runs for fun. Consumes spinach, also for fun. Wakes up and goes to bed at the same time every day. Possibly irons her clothes, but I'm still not sure on that one."   
"She sounds...pretty human. Perhaps you're the android."  
"No, I just have depression," Cal says before he can stop himself.  
Quincy throws his head back and laughs, and it makes Cal feel so fucking warm. Has he mentioned recently that he is completely screwed in a way that has nothing to do with his cramping stomach? 
"God, Amy hates when I joke about it. It'll be nice to have someone who understands around here when you move in."  
Quincy straightens up. "When I move in?"   
"What can I say. You sold me. If you want to live here, I want you to live here." He smiles, small.   
It was kind of a done deal when you said you worked with Henry Kline, Cal doesn't say. The way you talk to me like I'm a normal person and the fact that you're fucking gorgeous are just bonuses. 
"There is one more thing," he says, steeling himself. Much of his life is spent steeling himself. He pauses, waiting for Quincy to make a joke, to grin another heart-stopping grin, but he just looks at Cal curiously. "I'm trans. I wasn't born a male but I am and always have been a boy. I bind my chest and live as a male and use he/him pronouns. If you don't understand it, that's okay, but I will demand a certain level of respect in my own home, and it'd be preferable if that respect was voluntary." The speech is well-oiled from use, but Cal's voice still shakes.   
"Is that all?" Quincy says, and Cal feels his entire body slump in relief, straightening back up a little when his stomach protests. "I mean, of course, Cal. I'm not ignorant."   
"Oh, yeah, right. Thank you, gentle cis man. I worship at the holy altar of your allyship." He says it like a joke, but it takes effort to get out, because despite everything, it's taken him years to give this speech to a receptive audience and not feel like he's been granted a favor.   
It's taken him years to say I'm here and not have it come out as I'm sorry.   
When he told Zara, it was this whole thing, Zara reaching across the table to clasp one of Cal's hands in both of hers, you know I'm here for you, right? Cal's Facebook messages are full of Zara sending him every post she sees with the word trans in it, and like yeah, Zara, you're very sweet and supportive, but sometimes Cal just wants to be Cal, you know?   
It's just that Cal's known Quincy for all of a few hours and he already feels so goddamn understood.  
"I'm happy to pay whatever Zara’s share was," Quincy says, "And if you would be willing to leave Professor Kline's books, I would be honored."  
"Consider it done," Cal says, smiling a little. He’s almost able to forget about the slow, sinister ache in his stomach. Almost. "Though get ready for Amy to talk about it all the time. She’s really not on board with them being here."  
"I mean...religion isn't my cup of tea either, believe it or not, but I saw an original King James Bible. That alone has to be worth at least twenty grand. Literature person or not, that's...a really valuable thing to be keeping in your rented apartment."   
Cal's eyes flit to the tiled floor, and he can feel Quincy's gaze on him, and he knows he's biting his lip, something he does often enough that one side of it is slightly larger than the other.   
"Oh...Cal, I apologize. I didn't mean to intrude." It's that stiff formality from their almost-collision at the hospital again, and when Cal glances up, Quincy is backing away from him, hands folded behind his back. "I'm sure they're insured, or...even if they're not...I just mean, it's your business, of course. I apologize."   
"No, it's fine." Cal clears his throat nervously. "You're right. Zara and Amy just kind of went a little crazy helping me get rid of his stuff when he died, and they wanted to donate them to the university. I probably should have let them, but..." He shrugs, wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans, presses his lips together around another burp that he forces down, wincing at the added pressure. "It's not like these are even all the books he had. There are probably hundreds in the storage unit. But I'm ridiculous, and they were just his thing, and for some reason the thought of them just sitting in a dusty room with boxes of his old clothes and the lawnmower and literal cobwebs just didn't sit right, so."   
"So you brought them here." Quincy looks at him like he understands, and isn't just that the worst fucking thing? "I get it."   
"I kind of do want to donate them, as it turns out," and wow, okay, Cal didn't realize that until he says it out loud. "I'm just a little worried because I haven't exactly been...maintaining them, or whatever. I wouldn't even know where to start. If I'm going to let the university open up the Henry Kline Memorial Library or whatever the fuck, I don’t want to give them dusty books with cracked spines, you know? He would've hated that."   
Quincy clears his throat, licks his lips a little, and wow, okay, Cal's feeling things again. "I don't know if this is something you'd even be comfortable with, but...I could continue the work I was doing with Professor Kline. We were in the middle of restoring his collection, and I learned his technique well. I still have access to the labs. I could take it one book at a time. With your approval, of course."  
Cal blinks. "Um...yeah. Yeah, okay. That's super cool of you, thank you."  
"Are you kidding?" Quincy blurts, and then scratches the back of his neck a little like he's embarrassed. "I mean, it's just that you're doing me a favor. Henry Kline's book collection...I'll admit that I've missed them."  
Cal can't help the little smile that tugs his lips up, and seriously, he has to get these feelings under control, God, the guy hasn't even moved in yet.   
Before he can say anything, Quincy's face softens into that aching sympathy again. "And Cal...I miss him, as well. He was a good man."  
Cal kind of wants to cry, so suddenly and desperately that it takes his breath away for a second. His stomach churns audibly, and Quincy looks at him in alarm. 
"Quincy," he says when he gets his voice back, "How soon can you move in?"  
Quincy beams. "How soon will you have me?"  
When Amy gets out of the shower, Cal is sprawled across the couch, openly groaning, clutching his stomach with both hands.  
"What happened to Quin--Cal?” Amy blurts out as she enters the living room, rushing over to the couch when she takes in Cal’s sickly pallor. 
“Finally drove him back and jumped his car," Cal groans, still marveling that he was able to hold it together long enough. He may or may not have had to pull over on the way back, heaving up a trickle of stomach acid and chai tea latte onto the side of the road, at least as much due to anxiety as it was to lactose intolerance, but Amy doesn’t need to know that. "Says he'll take the room…" 
“Okay, that’s great, we’ll unpack that later,” Amy says, sitting gently at Cal’s feet, “But what’s going on with this?” She doesn’t wait for permission, laying a soft hand on Cal’s bloated belly, kneading gently at a cramp, ushering up a soft burp. Amy is sort of a miracle worker.
"’S gonna pay Zara’s share,” Cal murmurs, leaning into Amy’s touch, grimacing as the pressure ushers up a burp that brings up a wave of stomach acid. He swallows hard.  
"Again, that’s great, but,” Amy says, rubbing his belly in wide arcs, maintaining a steady pressure that does wonders for the cramps. “What the hell?” 
“I got anxious getting my latte,” he mumbles, letting his eyes slide shut. Amy’s ministrations are easing the worst of the nausea, and he is so, so thankful for her. “Forgot to ask for almond milk.” 
“Cal,” Amy says, all faint disapproval and warm concern. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 
“You were showering,” he whines, then whimpers a little at a particularly strong cramp, and Amy moves closer, applying a bit more pressure as she kneads at the cramp, massaging her other hand gently over the burbly places in his lower belly. “I made him show himself around. He didn’t even mind.” 
“Sounds like a dreamboat,” Amy says, her voice light and teasing. 
Cal doesn't know what to say to that that won't be self-incriminating, so he just says, "He really likes yellow."    
"I noticed that,” Amy agrees. "When does he move in?"  
Cal keeps his eyes shut, studiously avoiding eye contact. "Tomorrow."  
"Oh, wow, so soon! I can't wait to get to know him." Amy’s tone is completely genuine, probably working out what she can bake that properly conveys a message of thanks for living with us! She applies a bit of firm pressure unexpectedly to the bloat beneath Cal’s ribs, and he groans, feeling a flutter in his stomach as it tries and fails to expel a rush of trapped air. “Oof--please don’t do that again,” he manages, clutching at his chest. 
“I’m sorry, honey,” Amy says, sounding genuinely sad, and Cal slowly opens his eyes. “Just seems like you’ve got quite a lot of air stuck in there. Would you like some tea? Not chai, I guess...” 
Cal groans, shoving a couch pillow over his face. “I know. I’m an idiot. Oh, my tummy—” 
“Let me make you that tea,” Amy says lightly, giving his tummy a little pat before wrenching herself off the couch, and Cal loves the fuck out of her, has he mentioned? 
"I think you'll like him," Cal calls as Amy moves into the kitchen, deciding to take this opportunity to drop the bomb, adding more quietly, "Oh, and, small world, he worked with my dad."   
The rustling in the kitchen pauses, then starts again almost as suddenly as it stopped. "Does he...?"  
"Yeah, I told him. Didn't seem to bother him. He really likes the books."   
"The books," Amy murmurs, and oh God, not this again, but Amy is already following up with "Have you thought any more about what you're going to do with them?"   
Cal takes a deep breath and feels it stutter a little in his chest, reminding him he's been binding for a bit too long. "Yeah, actually. They were working on restoring the books when Dad died. He said he'd help me get them back into shape and I think I'll donate them to the university."   
"Oh," Amy says, pleasantly, and Cal reminds himself that Amy is good, that Amy is only doing what she thinks is best, what Zara told her would be best, that most rational people would question the wisdom of having cases of books worth thousands of dollars in an apartment not known for its impenetrable security measures. "That's really cool. He sounds like a really neat guy, Cal."  
Cal thinks of yellow-tinted glasses, of that scar on his face and the way he looked at Cal like he understands him. "Yeah," he says softly. "He really is."   
“Ginger or mint?” Amy calls, and Cal is thankful for the change of subject. 
“Ginger, please,” he calls back, carefully cupping his stomach with his palm, and takes a very deep breath. 
 *
A long while later, Amy has fallen asleep on his shoulder, a hand still splayed across his slightly-less-bloated belly, old episodes of The Twilight Zone streaming at a low volume on the TV. Cal can’t be bothered to move, too comfortable, too deep in thought, the churning of his belly finally soothed by Amy’s ministrations and a few shamefaced trips to the bathroom. 
Cal thinks about his dad every day, and that is no euphemism. He sometimes drifts past the extra room (Quincy's room, he thinks, something blooming in his chest in a way he doesn’t want to deal with right now) and sees his books, or catches sight of the scar on his knee he got the first and last time he and his dad went fishing when they were supposed to be studying for Cal's math test the next day, when a stray hook went straight through and he needed stitches, remembers the ice cream after, I'm not going to say don't tell your mom, but I'm going to say I won't if you won't, and he smiles, just a little (he didn't tell his mother). Every night he lays in a bed across from a desk that's been flush to the wall underneath the window since the day his dad built it, the one they picked out together at IKEA before Cal moved in, the one that had him muttering profanities for three hours on a blisteringly hot day in August while Zara’s mother, Virginia, poked her head in intermittently, how are those PhDs treating you, Dr. Kline?  Cal thinks about his dad all the time.  
It's just that he can't remember the day he died.   
It's just that he knows that he's the one who found the body, that he's the one who, somehow, called 911, who clung to Amy when the ambulance came, but he knows it the way you know stories about your fourth birthday party or your first day of school—more retelling than memory. Something you know because you're told.   
If he tries hard enough, he thinks he can remember what his uncle was wearing that day, what the perfume of the hospital secretary smelled like, but he can't for the life of him remember his dad's face, what the last thing he said to him was. And when it comes down to it, maybe he doesn’t remember what his uncle was wearing at all, maybe he just remembers him saying at the funeral, he bought me this tie, you know.   
You'd be surprised how many people come to a funeral for a professor, how many handshakes and hugs Cal got just for losing someone. How many looks of pity he got (gets) when they hear his name: Cal Kline, the guy who found his dad dead.   
And he can't even remember it.   
Psychogenic amnesia, Dr. Hodge told him in one of their first sessions, because yeah, when you're trans and you find your dad dead and can't fucking remember it, the one thing you spare no expense on is a really badass therapist. His brain couldn't handle what happened. He repressed it. It was the emotional shock, was the trauma, was the pain, yeah, Cal gets it.   
It's just that the one thing you should be allowed to hold onto are lasts, and Cal can't even remember his. He thinks of his dad and sees fishing, sees the lectures he sometimes sat in on, sees a receding hairline and eyes just like his and of course I still love you, sweetheart, daughter or son, you're family, and it aches.   
He wonders if Quincy's lost someone, if that's why he looked at him like that, eyes soft and understanding but not pitying. I get it, he said, and Cal believes him.   
Cal rolls that around in his head like a marble.  
I get it. I get it. I get it.   
Yellow's an awfully pretty color. 
16 notes · View notes
hopewritcs · 5 years
Text
dangerous actions.
pairing: billy hargrove x reader
word count: 2.1k 
request from @wingedlinerandlove: “Hey, if you are still taking requests, a "hope is dangerous" prompt from your misc. sentence starters prompts with Billy Hargrove and the reader might be interesting? If you're not feeling it though, no worries, have a good day!“
summary: y/n has worked at the pool every summer since she needed to get a job, so she’s the unofficial “junior manager” of the place and gets to show billy hargrove around on the first day.  she’s not exactly sure what’s going to come of working with him over the summer, but whatever she’s expecting is not what happens.
notes: set just before/during s3 episode one.  i did my best to avoid spoilers for the season, but there are probably a couple so probably stranger things season 3 spoilers ahead! weird fact no one asked for: i wrote the last two sentences of this fic before any other part of it simply as a reminder to myself that i knew where i wanted to go with it.  so uh, i hope you like it.  
stranger things tag list: @thekidsofneibolt, @madhatterweasley, @shaykeijser, @rainy-bookish-days (if you wanna be added to any tag list, let me know!!)
You always worked summers at the concession stand at the Hawkins Community Pool.  The pool was the obvious choice the first summer you’d gotten a job because it was within walking distance from your house and you didn’t need to ask for a ride from anyone to get there.  The concessions stand was because, even though you had been certified and could have been a lifeguard, sitting in the tiny office you got a fan to combat the heat.  
So the summer post graduation it was no surprise to anybody that you were working at the pool yet again.  You knew that a lot of your friends and the kids from school had gotten jobs at the Starcourt Mall since it had just opened recently, but you were happy to stay on and work the position at the pool.  
At the pool you knew all of your bosses, and the owner of the concessions stand, and you had your own key to open up in the mornings or close down at the night shift.  Plus, you liked being able to see your friends at the pool, even if you were working while they came to hang out.  Every summer there were a couple of new workers, especially lifeguards.  Some were college students back home for the season, and others were kids who had been told they needed a job.  
This summer, your new life guard coworker was Billy Hargrove.  You knew him from around school--because who didn’t know the new “King” of Hawkins High?--but you wouldn’t say you were friends with him.  However, when it came to showing new employees around the pool grounds, that duty usually fell to you on the days leading up to the pool’s big season opener party since the higher ups were busy getting things ready and you knew the pool like the back of your hands.  
“Come on Hargrove, you’re with me.”  You’d popped up behind him after the team meeting had finished for the morning and everyone was breaking off into their own groups.   
He narrowed his eyes at you, almost about to argue before he shrugged it off with a huff and nodded.  You spun on your heels and began showing him around the grounds.  You pointed everything out to him and ignored his mumbled comments about how dumb this was, for the most part.  
“All this is pretty obvious shit.  Don’t let kids drown, no running.  Towels stocked just so.”  He’d said some variation of that before and you were frankly sick of the attitude so you turned to look at him, slamming the clipboard with the checklist down on the counter.  
“This is an actual job not just sitting in the sun and getting to check out girls in skimpy bathing suits, Billy.”  You sighed, shaking your head as you looked at him.  
His smirk took over his face as he hummed, leaning closer to you, “Pretty sure that’s what they’re gonna pay me for.”  
You pulled back and looked him dead in the eyes, “I hope your attitude changes.”  
“Hope’s dangerous.”  
The tone he’d taken was dark and you almost said something back to him but he spun around, whistling as he did and waving a goodbye as he walked off to his car.  
It was going to be a long summer.  
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You’d been working the concessions stand most mornings since the pool had been opened up, watching as everyone piled in once it got warmer out.  You loved watching everyone sitting around or the kids playing in the pool, it gave you a sense of calm.  
This was how it was supposed to be.  
Unfortunately with the calm and happy feeling crept up the sense of nostalgia and you just hoped that you would be able to keep that feeling for more summers to come, even if you weren’t going to be working there.  
You’d been leaving for the night, going to head to the mall to pick up a present for a friend’s birthday when you saw Billy brush past you, a bruise forming on his cheek.  He didn’t notice you, he didn’t hear you gasp as he brushed your shoulder, he was too focused on getting to work on time and getting the fuck away from his dad for a couple of hours.  
“Billy?”  
Your voice stopped him as he had reached the employee entrance and he turned back to look at you.  He looked calm, but you could see how his chest moved rapidly with the anger you were sure he felt.  
“You okay?”  you motioned to your own cheek to mirror where his bruise was forming and you watched him swat at his fact briefly before nodding to you.  
“I’m fine.”  he said, clearing his throat.  
You sighed and tucked your keys back into the pocket of your jeans and walked over to him.  You figured you weren’t going to get to leave just then after all.  “You’re bruised.  Let me get you some ice.”  you put your hand down on the door knob and opened the door, gesturing for Billy to walk in ahead of you.  
“Nah.”  he shook his head, taking a step ahead of you and holding onto the door as he spoke.  “I don’t need your help, Y/N.  I’m fine, go on home or wherever it was you were going.”  
You want to argue that the bruise indicates that he is certainly not fine, but you don’t.  You stare at him instead.   You hold the glare for a few beats as you look at him, but he’s looking back at you the same way.  Both of you daring the other to step back.  
And in the end, Billy won the silent battle.  
“I hope you know that if you need anything, I’m around.”  You licked your lips and took a couple of half shuffled steps backwards.  
As the door closed behind Billy, you could have sworn he mumbled what he’d said the last time you mentioned having hope, but you couldn’t be sure as the door had already closed.  
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It had been a couple of days and you were locking up the pool house with one of the managers and Billy, the moon high in the sky as the three of you moved around and made sure everything was settled in for the morning crowd.  You spent a lot of time organizing everything in the concessions stand and left a note for your counterpart, letting them know that the red vines had been selling well and that there were more popsicles than you could imagine in the freezer in the break room if they ran out before the delivery got there.  
Finally the three of you stood out as the manager locked up for the night, bidding you two goodnight as you walked off toward the parking lot.  You didn’t have the car because someone else had needed to use it, but you’d walked home from the community pool alone more nights than with someone by your side.  
The first and second time this happened, Billy had driven off without so much of a care.  
The third time you closed with him without your car, he watched you walk off first before driving off in the direction of his house, which he’d never admit. 
The fifth time, Billy asked if you needed a ride home.  You politely declined, waving goodbye as you bounded down the street.   He’d been baffled by the refusal, but he drove off in the direction of his own house.  
The eighth time, it was pouring rain and Billy practically forced you into his car.  It was early still for both of you, since the thunderstorm had gotten the pool closed and now you both had time to kill.  
Somehow you wound up at the diner with him in a back booth, both of you chatting about nothing in particular as you watched the thunder roll on through, breaking through the already hot couple of days you’d been having that summer.  
Billy drove you home that night, and you felt that things were different.  
Or maybe you hoped they were.  
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Things did change, though, which was good.  Billy spoke to you more at work, and you spent lunch breaks together when you could.  Or he came into the concessions room and sat with you on his lunch break even if you were still working.  
You were definitely somewhere more than friends, but neither of you had said anything or done anything to make your feelings known.  You didn’t because you worried that your feelings were bubbling up quickly and Billy wouldn’t reciprocate and he thought you were just friends.  Billy because, well, his whole life was a shit show except for you and he didn’t want the chance to muck that up if he could avoid it.  
If you were being honest, it was killing you.  You wanted to tell Billy how you were feeling and you wanted to just get it out there and be done with it.  And, oh boy, did you hope that he felt the same way you did.  
Even despite his voice in the back of your head telling you that hope is dangerous.  
And you decided you were gonna do it.  You’d worked the morning shift, so by the time Billy was getting to the pool it was time for your break and you waited for him outside.  
“Hey Billy.”  you pushed yourself off the back wall and greeted him when he walked over towards the employee door you were standing at.  
Billy let a rare and genuine smile cross his face when he saw you, “Y/N.  You on break?”  
You nodded, the nerves you thought you’d be feeling right then not even phasing you.  And yet, no words were coming out of your mouth.  I like you Billy Hargrove, I really really like you.  You thought them over and over, but they weren’t coming out of your mouth.  
Billy raised his eyebrows, “You okay?” 
“Dinner.”  was your shuffled, awkward response to his question which only made Billy want to question you further since the last time he checked it was only maybe just afternoon.  But you quickly hurried, stumbling over your words again as you spoke, “Can we go to dinner?  Cause I like you.  Like, like you and I want to go out.  On a date.  With you.”  
You definitely sounded more questioning than stating facts, especially at the end.  And you couldn’t even look Billy in the eyes because your nerves had taken over at that point and you were almost sure that he wouldn’t say yes.  
Why would he say yes?  You’d seen the girls he’d gone out with at school and
“Tonight.”  
What?  
That was an answer you’d dared to hope for, but not the one you’d been expecting.  Your head drifted upwards to look at Billy who was looking at you with a playful smirk on his features ( don’t let it fool you, he was a mushy mess on the inside and glad that you liked him back ).  
“Tonight?”  you questioned.  
“Yeah, I don’t have any plans after work.  I’ll pick you up around eight?”  
You nodded your head and Billy nodded his and the two of you stood there for another couple of moments before you both turned toward the employee door and went back inside.  
And you really were looking forward to that night.  
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You waited for Billy for nearly half an hour on your porch before  you angrily stormed back into your house and let the front door slam behind you.  You cried for a while, curled up on your bed and still all dressed up for your date, before you called one of your friends to have a movie night.  
Unfortunately for you, on his way to pick you up, Billy had been in an “accident” and pulled into something else.  None of which you’d ever been made aware of, because the next time you were at work with him Billy Hargrove pretended like you didn’t even exist.  
And you could tell that something wasn’t right by the look in his eyes, but he wouldn’t even speak to you and your heart shattered.  
But you had to do something, right?  
He had been right right, hope was dangerous.
It was scary to hold onto hope.  
But you had to hold onto it now, for the guy who thought the whole concept of hope was “dangerous”.  
If you didn’t have hope, then what were you supposed to do?  
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otomememento · 4 years
Text
Unwanted
Cybird Creative Challenge: Day 20 - Warlord
(Guest staring an original character of mine who will have to remain nameless.)
It was a small village.  From a distance there was little about it that stood out, from the dusty streets to the simple homes, from the crop fields stretching out behind it.  It would have looked like another sleepy village, except for the row of armored soldiers standing in a few lines.  At the head of the men was a figure astride a horse.
At the head of his own army, Kenshin frowned.  Something didn’t seem quite right about the figure.  He urged his horse forward, but at a slightly more cautious pace.  As much as he loved battle, and didn’t care so much about his own fate, he wasn’t reckless with the lives of his men.  Battle lust aside, he was still brilliant at strategy and sensing the tides of war.  And something was off here.
When he got closer, and details came into sharper focus, he realized a few key points.  Firstly, the leader of the opposing force was not wearing standard Japanese armor.  This was no samurai or daimyo fitted for battle.  Comparatively the armor was very plain, being mostly undyed leather and a minimum of metal fastenings; it looked flimsy and hardly able to deflect the blow of a sword or spear.  There was no ornamentation to indicate clan or status, no symbols to inspire fear.  There wasn’t even a helmet.  
Which brought into focus something that made Kenshin’s frown deepen.  Not only was the figure a woman, something that stirred a deep dread within him, she was a foreigner with red hair and a much fuller, taller physique than many of the women he knew…and some of the men.  In sharp contrast, the sword at her hip was definitely local; he knew the shape and grace of those swords anywhere.
Kenshin pulled on his reins, bringing his horse up short.  This was…not what he had anticipated.  Whispers had reached him that there was an uprising in a village on the borders of his land.  Naturally, bored with waiting, he had gone to investigate, hoping that there might be someone who could offer him even the pretense of a challenge.  He was certain that a woman, any woman, would not be it.  While he was deliberating between simply turning around and sending his troops into squash the insurgents, the woman urged her horse onward, quickly closing the gap between them, leaving her soldiers behind.
“You’re not wanted here, Warlord!”  Despite her obviously foreign appearance, the woman spoke clearly and without hesitation, the language smoothly falling from her lips.
“And you don’t belong on the battlefield, Woman!” Kenshin replied, his own words like ice.
“Belong or not, here I am,” said the woman, her tone cool, but without the sharp ice that was in Kenshin’s voice.  “You’ll have to go through me to get to the village.”
“I wouldn’t waste my time fighting a single soldier, let alone a woman, when we can simply ride around you,” scoffed the Warlord.
“But why ride around me at all, when things could be settled here?  Are you so eager to draw as much blood as possible that you’ll rush towards the village?”
“What do you mean?”  Kenshin’s bi-colored eyes narrowed at the woman, sizing her up.  She seemed confident, yes, but not quite arrogant.  But there was still a breeziness to her that made him wonder if she knew what she was doing.  That didn’t help his mood.
“Fight me here, win, and no one will resist you.  Lose, and you take your army away and leave us in peace.”
“I doubt you can win against me, Woman.  Besides, I don’t know of you; what worth is your word?”
“Would it please you more if it was a duel to the death?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.  “The dead can’t change their minds.”
Kenshin was no stranger to death; he had caused enough of it.  He had had a close brush with it.  He had lost those he loved to it.  Often, he even yearned for it, or at the very least, he needed to be confronted with the chance for it.  Skirting the line was what made him feel alive.  Despite all this, something about the woman’s words gave him a chill.  Anger, he was used to now, but he had so little to fear anymore that this felt almost like a new emotion.  
“I’m not going to slaughter an unseasoned fighter,” said Kenshin flatly.
“Who said I was unseasoned?”
“You’re not wearing proper armor, so you’re not born, raised, and trained to fight.  How could you beat me that way?”
“How many of your men would I have to beat to prove that I’m good enough to fight you?”  The query gave Kenshin a moment of pause.  He knew his soldiers were well trained; he insisted on it.  But he wasn’t sure how to quantify them that way.  What sort of answer could he give to this woman?  Whatever number he declared, he would be bound to abide by the results.  He was cold and absolutely ruthless in war, but he wasn’t a liar.  At least, not to anyone but himself.
“Ten men.  One after the other,” Kenshin finally said.  He waited for a few moments, believing the woman would be deterred, but her expression didn’t so much as flinch.  Turning back he gestured for ten individuals to come forward.  Tersely he gave his command.  They formed a line in front of him.  The woman dismounted from her horse.  She took a moment to stroke the beast’s nose, then gave it a slap on the rump to send it back to the village.  It gave a snort and a whinny and trotted away, leaving the woman completely on her own.  At the very least, it showed she cared something for her horse.
“I accept,” she said firmly, drawing steel.  That was the only cue the first soldier needed to attack, not being held back by Kenshin’s particular issue.  His motions were precise, professional, and skilled.  The Foreigner easily met his blows with her sword, her own motions still precise and skilled, but with a certain exuberance that Kenshin found…familiar.  Even though her style was a bit different, she clearly wasn’t a stranger to a sword fight.  And it wasn’t just a duty she was performing; the woman was smiling.
The most surprising thing, however, was that she rather easily bested the first soldier.  Kenshin had organized them in tiers of skill, but even so, he didn’t think the least of his men would fall that quickly.  Either the woman was better than he thought, or he hadn’t trained his men hard enough.  He suspected the former, however.  The woman was barely breaking a sweat.
One by one the soldiers came after her.  One by one they fell back, defeated.  She didn’t seem inclined to deliver a killing blow to any of them.  And it wasn’t by lack of skill that this happened.  In fact, she seemed to have an excellent sense for how badly to injure someone so that they were forced to yield, but not so badly that they couldn’t recover.  Again and again she delivered this blows in precise, methodical places, even if the initial appearance of her style was something with more passion than sense.
But she wasn’t so unbelievably good that she didn’t have her own fair share of cuts.  They didn’t seem to hamper her fighting though.  She hadn’t broken a sweat in the first couple of fights, but as her opponents got tougher, the effort involved in besting them went up, and soon she had worked up quite a sheen on her skin.  Kenshin had to admit he was entranced.  Without the bulk of standard armor, with her height and physique, she was a sight worth watching.  It was a sharp contrast to the woman he lost, the woman who had not been able to fight for herself.  This foreign woman was another type of female altogether.
And then, all ten men were finished, groaning on the sidelines, some of which looked apprehensive.  Would their lord punish them for failure?  Was he disappointed?  Cold as he was, Kenshin was a good Lord and a good Commander; his men were all fiercely loyal.  The Warlord himself simply ordered that they get their wounds tended to; he didn’t take his eyes off the woman.  Now that she had met his challenge, he was bound to fight her.  He didn’t know how he felt about this.  She had proven she could fight, but he still didn’t know what her word was worth.  He knew the value of his own word, however, and he wouldn’t tarnish it by backing out now.
“You passed the challenge; I must admit you are not unseasoned.”  Kenshin started to dismount from his horse, but the woman held up a hand.
“Wait!”
“Do you wish to back out, after all of that?”  Kenshin didn’t know if he was disappointed, or relieved, at the notion.
“Not at all.  But I feel a need to show you something.  Come.”  With two fingers, the woman gave a shrill whistle, and her horse came back in a few moments.  Swinging herself up onto its back, she began at a slow trot towards the village, stopping a little ways away from it.  She made another whistle this time, actually a series of them, and gestured for Kenshin to look.  He was surprised as, in a wave of motion, all of the village soldiers fell to the ground.  Only now he realized they weren’t soldiers at all.  From a distance he hadn’t been able to tell that they were simply armor situated in a way to give the illusion of having an army.  
“What is the point of this display, this trickery?” asked Kenshin, his voice hard.
“I told you before, the dead can’t change their minds.  You see an army of ghosts, the fallen, the departed.  The only thing left is armor and memories.”  The woman paused, her expression distant.  “Oh, and their widows and children.  This village, it was abandoned.  There were people, displaced by the war.  It seemed a perfect fit.  But with all their men gone, either dead or in the armies, who would protect them?”  She shakes her head.
“Why fight my men then?  Why did you want to fight me?”
“I wanted to take your measure, Warlord.  This is your land, is it not?”  The woman sighed softly.  “I wanted to protect them, but I have no real power here.  As you saw, I can fight one on one, but I’m not a match for a whole army.”  Her expression grew stern.  “With all the wars going on, you Lords may win battles, but the people always lose, even when their lords win.  Someone needs to end this fighting, once and for all, or there will be no country left to command.”
It was something for the Warlord to think about.
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