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cowboycakes · 3 years

Text

The Strategy

Pairing: Zeke Jaeger x Reader

Synopsis: The forest was the last place you thought you'd find yourself infatuated with someone you barely knew - especially not your cocky prisoner.

Themes: angst, flirting, guilty love, big plot twist

Warnings: kissing and suggestive language, bullying / teasing, mentions of death, some anxious thinking, light alcohol and tobacco use, profanity. reader uses she/her pronouns. s4 spoilers.

Word Count: 5.7k

Anon (🐸)'s Request: Hi ! Can I request a Zeke x fem reader imagine/one-shot? Reader is a captain for the survey corp and long time veteran. She is really intelligent and is a strategist for the corp. They kind of hate each other but have a lot of chemistry but start bonding before the forest incident. Sorry if that isn't specific enough and too vague.

On occasion, you tended to be so logical that it ruined your life. There was no room in your mind for daydreams, love, or speculation. Fate was false - most things in life were completely arbitrary. That was the way you’d trained yourself to think. Not because you enjoyed it, only because it made it easier to survive.

This way of thinking is a result of your lifetime with the Corps. The award of a Captain’s position was the fruit of your labor, along with being revered for your ability to strategize. Many of the most important and most successful missions in recent years had been planned by you. But, the bubbling tension and division within the walls have thrown you for a loop. You’ve attempted to collaborate with Levi in recent weeks to try to pin down any conflict - anything you could do to calm the storm and keep your comrades safe would be worth it.

Instead of being able to act on whatever plans you’d developed, you’d been assigned to the most bizarre mission you’d ever taken part in: babysitting some man in his late twenties, all the way out in a forest filled with towering redwood trees. This mystery man was apparently not to be trusted, he was Eren’s half-brother from Marley and the holder of the beast titan. He’d done tremendous damage to the Corps in the past. His intentions and motives now remained mysterious, but one thing was for sure: his loyalties lied with Eren, not with the Scouts.

You were disappointed and terrified all together. Being so far away from the action left both you and your comrades vulnerable. But, Levi insisted you needed to confine this man far away from society. And although you were a captain, whatever Levi says usually goes.

The forest wasn’t so bad upon your arrival. Damp pine needles that covered the ground coated the air in a sweet aroma. The blanket of shade given off by the trees was temperate in the summer heat. The tents you’d been provided with were sturdy, insulated, and a dark shade of green that complimented the woodland setting. Above all, you were accompanied by 30 trained soldiers and a shipment of high-quality Marleyan wine.

The entirety of your first day in the forest was spent unpacking and setting up your living quarters. Stars now peak through the canopy of branches above, and a cold breeze ruffles the millions of leaves surrounding the camp. The air was chilly despite the heat that blazed earlier in the day.

The cot you’d assembled in your tent is comfortable enough, but the grey sheets you’d just stretched over the mattress still smell stale. You conjure up the idea of going for a walk while your blankets air out. The musty scent sure wasn’t going to lull you to sleep.

Your timid feet crunch on the ground through the forest for a while, away from the camp. The mist of your breath is tangible in front of your face - the light jacket you’d brought wasn’t going to be enough to keep your goosebumps at bay. It’s much more intimidating out here at night than you’d expected. Darkness brought mystery to the gaps between each tree. And the sheer amount of trees beyond the campsite is dizzying, their height is even more difficult to process. They add a sense of company to your walk, although you can’t tell if they are peaceful observers or prying sets of eyes.

It’s surprisingly quiet out here, no animal or human alike made noise at this hour. The silence leads you to pick up on the echo of a fire crackling somewhere. You’re suddenly a bit excited - you’d figured everyone would have gone to sleep by now.

You spot a comforting orange glow coming from the other side of the distant campsite, offset from the main groups of tents. Maybe someone else’s sheets needed time to breathe too.

The light grows brighter as you trek towards it. It leads you to a humble tent and a fire pit with two rusted metal chairs placed on either side of it. In one of the chairs sits a blonde man in a white shirt, with his back turned to you. He has his nose in a poorly bound book - its stitching is frayed and the pages look wilted, as if they’d been dropped in water before. A cigarette smolders in his free hand.

Your feet crunch into the ground a little harder as you approach in an attempt to avoid startling him. The man looks up to you once you’re finally facing each other. His face is foreign to you. Round glasses on his nose reflect a golden luster from the fire in front of him, blurring your view of his grey eyes slightly. Blonde waves are parted down the middle of his head, tousled a bit too perfectly. He has a well groomed beard that compliments his structured face and strong biceps that peak through his shirt sleeves.

He’s handsome, classy, alluring. Nothing like the usual around here.

“Hi, I’m Captain Reader,” you say with a small smile.

“Reader, huh?” he says, folding his book closed, “I think I’ve heard that name somehow…”

“Oh, possibly. I’m a long time captain. I do a lot of strategic work as well, and it's not exclusive to the Scouts. So my name tends to get around.”

“My name is Zeke,” he replies, returning the smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Zeke… did that sound familiar? You couldn’t decide.

You take a seat in the other chair across from the fire, warming your hands once you get comfortable. The embers lit in front of you are only a sad little bundle of sticks, clearly in need of more fuel. Zeke rolls his shoulders back as his eyes focus in on your frame. His attention is definitely not on the book anymore. His body language almost tells you he likes what he sees - he’s open, relaxed, observant. The cigarette has gone a bit limp in between his fingers.

You’re guilty of curiosity too, as your eyes prod his figure. There must be something in the air.

“What’s that book about?” you question, “it looks… well loved.”

He chuckles. “It's a little fantasy piece, actually. Not something I’d usually find myself reading, but I’ve read it a hundred times now. It’s about a maiden who buys her way to heaven, and a prince who rescues her from the consequences.”

“Interesting…” you say, “how does someone buy their way to heaven?”

“With something far more valuable than money,” he explains. You wonder if the sultry undertone he added was all part of your imagination. It was a little grumbly, suggestive.

“And what would that be?”

“Not sure, still trying to figure that one out,” he remarks, bringing the cigarette up to his lips. Light from the fire gets trapped in the smoke and travels up through the dark air as he exhales.

“You’re gonna ruin your lungs if you keep doing that, Zeke,” you joke.

He chuckles again, “So she’s pretty and caring. Guess I’ve lucked out.”

You feel a little heat rush to your cheeks. This innocent, flattered, puppy-love feeling: you hadn’t felt this way in years. You really wish you could just brush it off, it wasn’t something you were used to. Instead, you let your mind wander for only a second - it would be a nice pastime to have a summer fling with someone in this forest. You were more than tempted. It would get your mind off of the impending doom you tended to feel in chaotic times like this. You could live a bit for once.

And the beautiful man in front of you could be the perfect candidate.

“Hmm, it’s convenient that you think so,” you reply, crossing your legs.

“Convenient? For you, or for me?” he questions. “Looking to get something out of your time in this forest, Captain?”

You pause. He’s bold. “Depends… what about you?”

Zeke lifts the book up slightly in his hand and flips it over to examine its withered back cover, “Not sure, maybe I’ll finally experience whatever this book is talking about. Something so desirable I could cheat my way into heaven with it.”

No. His tone wasn’t your imagination.

“I have a feeling you’ll end up being the prince that has to deal with someone else’s fuck-ups instead,” you laugh.

His lips curl back into a smile as he starts to laugh with you. “Doesn’t sound out of character,” he replies.

His pretty blonde hair ruffles a bit as the wind picks up. And shit - is that wind bitter. The miniscule fire wasn’t doing it’s best to warm you. You notice your limbs are shaking, too much for your jacket and hands to conceal. Zeke surely notices too, he’s been eyeing you this whole time after all.

“Here,” Zeke offers, pulling a thick corduroy coat off of the back of his chair.

“No, no. You should wear that. I’m alright,” you protest, rubbing your hands over your arms vigorously to try to stop your shuddering.

Zeke gets up from his seat anyway and crosses the gap between the two of you. You look up to him once he’s standing over you, embarrassed. Two big hands drape the hefty fabric over your shivering shoulders. You immediately feel warmer as your body heat gets trapped underneath it.

“Thanks,” you mutter, pulling on the jacket to adjust it on your arms.

The wind still howls as Zeke goes back to his metal chair. He sits down casually, taking another drag of his cigarette as his eyes move back to you, lingering on you gently -- like he feels satisfied or nostalgic. Your features looked so beautiful in the faint orange light of the fire, as the only focal point in his vision while darkness clouded everything behind you. He couldn’t help but stare.

“I do mean it,” he says as he exhales, “that you’re pretty.”

His words hang there for a moment. They wait for you on a hook, persuading you to take his bait. So he could reel you in.

“Trying to flatter your superiors huh? Well that’s one way to get what you want,” you retort.

“Who says you’re my superior, Captain Reader?” he jokes.

You laugh at him.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” you begin, “but I’ve never seen you around before. Are you from another branch of the military?”

Zeke pauses, letting out a huff of air.

“You know, with a reputation like yours, one would think you’d know your enemies a little better.”

Your face drops from a smile that rested high on your cheeks to a shocked, open-mouthed glare. You’re frozen. Why didn’t you assume…

“You’re the other Jaeger…” you trail off.

Zeke brings the cigarette back to his mouth and flips his book back open in response.

You stare down into the fire, unsure of what to do or say next. You were mortified. Maybe saying nothing was the answer - you’d already dug yourself into a hole by flirting with your prisoner. And damn, did Zeke deliberately let you. He knew who you were. He wanted you to feel this way. He led you on.

Who was supposed to deal with your fuck-up now?

You stand up, keeping your eyes on the ground.

“Goodnight, Zeke,” you say quietly, dropping his coat onto the chair.

You move quickly through the dark air that nips at your ears, back to the safety of your tent.

***

“Don’t go off and be an idiot,” Levi warns.

You assure him you wouldn’t, pouring a big glass of wine for yourself with a smile spread across your face.

Levi had been more than reluctant to let your soldiers bring this wine, but you’d done some convincing. This forest had been boring for the past few days. Laughing over a few drinks would be a sure way to liven up the crowd. You were just excited to finally get a taste of this Marleyan wine that everyone had been raving about.

You hadn’t seen Zeke since that night three days ago. Unfortunately, you couldn’t get him off of your mind. Partially because you were horribly embarrassed. And angry. You couldn’t believe you’d walked into his trap like that, practically offering yourself to him as a subject to humiliate. You were sure he’d enjoyed every bit of it.

And the other reason you couldn’t get him off of your mind…

He was a bit gorgeous. And you loved the way he talked to you, how it made you feel. Even though your time with him was so short, you secretly wanted more. You cursed yourself for thinking about him like that after all the harm he’d done to the Scouts. All of it made you sick - it was wrong, it made you feel like you had dirt on your hands.

But what if you tried to talk with him again? Just to sort your feelings out. Then you could be free to forget about him. This time, you would control yourself. You knew who he was now, and what it meant to be speaking with him. You were allowed to speak with him, you just had to be careful if you were going to proceed. None of you could trust him.

But the curiosity was still killing you.

You swirl the wine around in your glass as you dig the toe of your leather boot into the soft ground - trying to decide.

Anxious feet move below you before your mind is ready for them to, back toward Zeke’s tent.

It was nearly sundown, and beautiful purple rays beam through the forest, shattered from full display by hundreds of tree branches. The air was warm tonight, so there would be no need for Zeke's jacket again.

Once you see his camp, you notice he’s back in the same chair again. He’s still reading that torn-up book, this time with a pencil in his hand. He scratches little notes onto the pages here and there.

He looks up once he hears the familiar sound of your boots. The eyes behind his circular lenses scan you, lingering on the glass in your hand. You wonder if you should have brought him one.

“Hi, Zeke,” you say softly, making your way to the chair across the empty fire pit.

“Captain, thought I’d never see you again,” he says, a false excitement stuck in his voice.

You keep swirling your wine around in its glass, waiting for it to air out so you could take your first sip. It smelled divine, so fruity and fresh, in contrast with the earthy smells that the forest gave off.

Zeke looks up to you over the top rims of his glasses, unimpressed. You raise your glass to your lips, almost ready to tilt it back and let the chilled, burgundy wine rush into your mouth.

“That’s sluggish if you,” he remarks.

You pause, letting the cool glass linger on your bottom lip.

“What?” you bark, pulling the glass from your mouth.

He looks back down at his book, “No Marleyan strategist - or any good strategist for that matter - would drink in front of their adversaries. It makes you look sluggish.”

You just gape at him. He’s probably having fun while trying to irritate you. Two could play.

You put your arm out in front of you and flip the glass over, pouring the wine onto the wet dirt below. It splashes up onto your boots as it streams from your cup and runs down to spill into the fire pit.

“Happy?” you grumble, tossing the glass into the dirt. “Probably shitty wine anyway, considering you two come from the same place.”

He snickers, “Not quite. I was hoping you’d just hand the glass over.”

You regretted trying to talk to him now.

“Fine,” you sigh, getting up from your spot and turning back toward your tent. “Keep scribbling in your stupid book.”

“Actually, I was writing the two of us into the story.”

You’re sure he’s just pushing your buttons further - trying to lay another trap for you and capture you in another awkward moment of infatuation. But his words cause you to pause in your steps for a second.

“And what are we doing?” you question.

“We just cheated our way into heaven.”

“Creep,” you grumble before continuing to walk.

***

You hadn’t gone near that wine since. You had a grudge against it now, it completely ruined the mood last time you saw Zeke. But it had sure lightened the mood for everyone else, probably a little too much. Everyone except for Levi, of course. It was nearly impossible to change his mood.

In the meantime, you were still victim to unwarranted thoughts of Zeke in your head. This almost felt like a schoolgirl crush, how he bullied you a bit. This was more like torment, actually, considering you were trying to get him out of your head. But it didn’t change the fact that you liked what you saw.

Lately he was always reading that book and jotting down notes in it. And he rarely left his little corner of the campsite except for when he went on walks sometimes. You’d admire him from afar, careful never to let your eyes meet with his.

You’d take the images of him now burned into your brain back to bed with you, and stare up to the dark tent ceiling above. You’d fantasize about what it would have been like to meet Zeke in another life. One where the two of you weren’t enemies trapped on two different sides of a war. Where you didn’t feel guilt for your interest in someone who had jeopardized you and your comrades. Where the two of you were free to know one another.

You couldn’t pinpoint what kept driving this involuntary curiosity you felt towards him. It was tiring, honestly. But you wanted his company. Maybe you just wanted company in general -- it's not like you got along with him or anything.

Should you fix that? Did you even want to fix that? Would a peace offering be doing too much?

He did mention he wanted your glass of wine…

So one night, you cave. And you march over to the wooden cart that held dozens of cases of wine, an empty glass for Zeke in hand. You’re shocked to see only four measly bottles remain, laying on their sides in the only wooden case left. You could have sworn the shipment was full only a few days ago, but this camp had been set up for weeks now. Everyone here must be just as bored as you were, and several times more thirsty.

You pry open a cork and pour a few inches of wine into the glass, stopping to waft the crisp aroma into your nose. The air tonight was crisp too, it was cooler than it had been in recent days. You were adamant about remembering a jacket this time. The journey to Zeke’s tent feels long under the moonless sky. Hesitancy, followed by regret, pools into your brain as the dim light from his campfire comes into view.

Grow some balls, you’re convincing yourself that all of this means more than it really does. You’re bringing him a glass of wine for God’s sake.

There’s still time to turn around though… you could just finish the glass on your own. Out of range for him to bully you for it.

But he’s sitting there so prettily. He has his boots up on the rocks surrounding the fire pit, careful not to burn their soles in the flames. His blonde locks are pushed back slightly, giving you more room to look at his smooth face. And he’s certainly not busy, just reading his old book. Maybe he still had some compliments left for you despite all the bickering you two had done. Maybe he-

“Haven’t tried any of that ‘shitty’ wine yet, have you?” he questions. You hadn’t even noticed how close you are to him now. You’d gotten lost in him on the way.

“No…” you grumble, “it's for you. A peace offering.”

You stick your hand out. He receives the glass, lifting it up to examine it before taking a big drink.

“Ah,” he breathes, clearly satisfied. “It’s disgusting, Captain. Really.”

You stifle a laugh. “Everyone else seems to think so too. It’s all nearly gone.”

“Hmm,” he says, taking another sip, “None for you, I guess. Might as well just let it run out.”

“I think I will,” you mock, turning away from him to go sit in your chair,

The sizable fire Zeke had put together tonight was quick to thaw the chills on your arms. You really didn’t need your jacket after all, and opted to lay it over the back of your chair. The two of you sit there in silence for a while, taking in each other’s presence, observing the dying light in the forest.

Zeke looks at you eventually. Your eyes instinctually dart away.

“What made you want to come see me again?” Zeke asks.

You frantically search for an answer. You need to be careful.

“Boredom,” you reply flatly.

“You think so?” His attitude is back to how it was the first night you’d met. He’s engaged, focused, yet comes off so casual laying back up against his seat like that. He enjoys toying with you, like a cat to its prey.

Be careful.

“Don’t like my answer or something?”

That wasn’t exactly careful.

“No. You’re just not being honest.” He breathes that last word out like he needs to get a rise out of you, then he nonchalantly takes another drink while he waits for you to respond. Your mouth is open the slightest bit; you’re nervous, angry. He’s in your head now. He was reading you like that overused book of his.

“Then what do you want to hear from me?” you question. There’s thankfully still a false calmness in your voice.

“Just the truth. It’s not that complicated.”

You were sweating in front of this fire now. What was the truth? That you were interested in him? That you wanted nothing to do with him?

Be honest.

“I guess I just like your company,” you admit. Your eyes fall to the rocks lining the fire pit.

***

The discussion became pleasant after that, surprisingly. You guess you just needed to own up to how you felt. Your admittance caused some of the anger and tension tugging between the two of you to subside. The conversation was calm, collected, bouncing around from subject to subject: from the book, to life in Marley, to life in Paradis, to your occupation, and back to the book. Most of it was uneventful, but you liked that. It made it easy to pretend you were talking to him on the first night again, before you found out who he really was.

You left his camp with a giddy smile on your face. You’re on your way back to your tent now, after saying your goodbyes to Zeke. It was late, and you needed to be up early to have an important conversation with Levi. And god forbid he found out about any of this business between you and Zeke. Even though nothing was serious, it would come off unprofessional. And rightfully so.

You’re so lost in thought by the time you’re opening your tent door that you didn’t realize your arms were cold. The jacket you brought was probably still hanging off the chair at Zekes fire pit. It would look suspicious if you left it there and one of the other soldiers happened to see it.

You go back quietly, careful not to let anyone hear your footsteps. A couple of scattered thoughts weave their way into your head on your journey - what if this was another ploy of his? An attempt to get you back where he wants you, this time late at night. But how could it be? You were the one who left your jacket there. If anything, this was your own attempt to lead yourself back to him. Did you want him that badly… deep down?

When you reach your chair, you find it to be empty. You check around its sides, back, and underside - no jacket in sight. Out of the corner of your eye, a sliver of light shows from under the tarp serving as Zeke’s tent door. He’d probably noticed it and taken it inside with him after you’d gone home.

Halfheartedly, you meander to the tent door. You tap on it once the limited glimmer of light from inside touches the toes of your boots.

“Zeke? Do you have my jacket?” you whisper, still flicking the tarp to get his attention.

No answer.

Cold air stings your exposed skin as a draft swoops down through the camp. You also were wary of any observers that happened to be out this late at night. There was no telling what it looked like you might be doing outside his tent at the moment. The more uncomfortable you became out here, the more impatient you got.

“Zeke!” you hiss, whipping your head around your shoulder to double check your surroundings.

Still nothing but silence on the other side. Had he fallen asleep already?

The urge to pull back the tent door hits you. It would only take a moment to retrieve the jacket, then you’d be on your way.

Once again, making this a bigger deal than it really is.

But that didn’t matter. It felt like a big deal. That’s what every situation that involved him felt like. A big, complicated, multidimensional deal.

Be careful.

That wasn’t the answer either. Being careful was a good tactic when it came to strategizing your next moves in war. It was sometimes rendered useless when dealing with love. This was out of your control. And that was ok. That was what compelled you toward him - the mystery, the rush.

Let go.

You grip the tarp, it crinkles under your stiff fingers as you pull it back. A rush of warm air hits you, along with the light of a few oil lamps. And Zeke… shirtless. Sitting on his unmade bed with your jacket in hand.

The sight of his sculpted body in front of you sets a nervous, unprepared spark off in you, causing you to shut the door fast and stumble inside. And all at once, there you were - back in Zeke’s grasp. You accepted that wanted to be there.

“My jacket... ” you say, staring hard at the fabric in his hands, trying to avoid eye contact with his bare chest.

He stands up in silence and comes to your side, raising the jacket up once he gets real close to you. Oh no, he’s draping it over your shoulders again, slowly this time around, taking his time to stare into your puppy dog eyes. Dammit - the hot cheeks, the butterflies, the embarrassment. All of it was back now, in an instant he had you feeling like puddy in his hands. The two of you stare at each other as his hands adjust the jacket around you, stopping to play with one of the buttons on the front.

“You’re forgetful,” he mumbles, still focused on the button on your chest. His tone is sweet and quiet, a small smile appears out of one corner of his mouth.

You weren’t breathing, or thinking. Just looking down innocently at the hand that was so close to you.

“I’m not… normally,” you say quietly.

Zeke’s hands move to grip each side of the front of your jacket gently. His eyes move up from the hands placed on your jacket, and back to you. To your lips. You part them at the realization, swallowing the lump that suddenly appeared in your throat.

He shifts further in towards you, tugging on your jacket the slightest bit.

One cohesive thought rises up in the blankness of your brain. You want to kiss him.

The urge was mutual. Your lashes flutter against your cheeks a few times before you shut them, turning your head slightly to the right. Zeke follows your lead. You feel warm fingertips touch your chin and guide you to his soft pair of lips. His other hand abandons your jacket and comes down to meet your waist, slowly sliding to the small of your back. You melt into his touch, pulling yourself in closer. Chills go down your neck at the sensation of being in his arms, at his mercy. It feels so right, so warm and gentle. You want to keep going - so bad. You want him to hold you, touch you, kiss you harder.

But only for a moment.

You pull away once the guilt hits your core, gently touching your fingers to your lips.

Zeke stares at you, his eyes a bit wider than normal. His arms have gone limp at his sides without having you to occupy them any longer. You can tell there’s something on the tip of his tongue, something that might save the situation and bring your lips back to his. You didn’t want to hear it.

“It’s wrong. This is all wrong,” you say, backing up into the tent door behind you.

You think of the war. You think of your duties. You think of who Zeke really is. Any fluttering in your stomach was gone now, instead it was filled by tinges of regret.

“You’re right. It is,” he responds. He walks back over to his bed and sits on the quilt ruffled at its end. He runs a hand through his hair as he turns his head away from you. “I figured you’d be smart enough not to kiss back.”

You were almost too shocked to notice how much his words burned. Your mouth hangs open as your eyes squint at him a bit. Emotion courses through you as your mind crashes down from the high you were just on. You needed out of this tent.

You grip the tarp resting against your back and fling it open. You felt lost, speed walking away from Zeke’s tent and toward the center of camp. The night concealed the confusion on your face, but only for a minute. A fire glows near your tent, lighting up your surroundings - its Levi. You try your best to avoid him, changing your course to avoid his eyes.

“What are you doing awake, Reader,” Levi questions dully.

You don’t let out any response other than stopping in your tracks.

“Is everything... alright?”

“I just,” you search for anything appropriate, any excuse for your apparent distress, “don’t like being in this forest.”

You both go quiet for a moment, listening to the snapping of thin branches in the fire.

Levi breaks the silence, “That’s actually what I was going to mention to you tomorrow. The MP’s need you for something. I was going to give you the choice to go back, or stay here.”

Going back. Maybe that was the right answer you’d tried so hard to find.

***

You shove all of your belongings into your suitcase early the next morning. It didn’t take you long to decide you needed to abandon this mission. Nothing between you and Zeke would ever work out, and your feelings for him were only a burden to everyone here, and yourself.

You lug your bags to a horse and cart that had been set up for you, tossing them over the cart’s walls and into the back.

Climbing up into the front seat, you notice a gift waiting for you - that overused book. Zeke must have finally figured out how to fake his way into heaven.

You decided to read some of it on the way back.

Zeke sure had written his own story inside of it. All of the notes he’d scribbled in the margins were in another language, presumably from Marley - a secret story you’d never get to understand. Only for him to know.

***

You heard news of what happened in the forest a few days after you arrived home. You couldn’t process it at first, instead you just sat in disbelief and denial. Then the ‘what ifs’ set in. What if you had stayed? Maybe you could have stopped Zeke from doing all the damage he decided to cause. The tear-filled anger set in after that.

There was only one chapter of his book left now. You felt disgusted looking at it, a reminder of everything you’d felt for him. You needed to sit yourself down and get through it so you could finally throw it away - and finally forget about him forever.

You come to the final page. It was intended to be blank, a sort of protectant between the ink on the last page and the back cover. But instead, there’s a penciled in note. From Zeke.

His writing in your language was messy and shaky. You assumed he could read in your language, but may not be practiced in writing in it. This was probably the first message he’d ever written in it. All for you.

—

Dear Captain Reader,

I tend to avoid feeling guilty for much. I probably won’t feel guilty for everything I’m about to do to your soldiers in this forest.

I did feel guilty, however, when I saw your beautiful face that night you found me alone in the forest. And then I realized you were caring, brilliant, and a strategist that was far smarter than I was.

Well, this was my attempt at strategizing.

Pulling you in and then pushing you away. I hoped the guilt and confusion would make you leave. Make you think you were unfit for the assignment, too distracted by me. Heartbroken, even. Anything to get you out of here.

Now, I’m not too sure there will be anyone to rescue you. I won’t be able to again. Take care of yourself. Stay sharp.

I hope you enjoyed the book. I was really never a fan of the ending.

Zeke

—

Author's Note:

Dear anon: You gave me a lottt of free rein with this one, so I hope it was ok ●﹏● (and not too angsty and complicated lol. You said they kinda hate each other but theres chemistry and I just ran with it. Oopsies.) This was one of my favorite fics to write, ever, I think! I had a lot of fun with the dialogue especially. Thanks so much for the request, and thanks to everyone else for reading! Lots of love - Shep :)

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my-writings-and-musings · 4 years

Note

Can I please have a short story of the prompt of the human reader being used as a sheild, and the human has a communicator allowing the bots to trace their signal? And can I please have ratchet, tailgate, cyclones, and drift for this?

I have headcannons for now because I'm spread really thin lately, but I hope you like it! Also I love this prompt in particular because every bot on the ship needs to be told how special and wonderful they are, and what better way to show them than by shouting their praises at an enemy with ample swearing?

Part One: Here!

Part Two: You're Here!

Ratchet

·Your relationship to the medic had allowed some of the restraint he needed for his high stress job to rub off on you, but that's also true of his testiness, so when you reach your breaking point it's quite the sight. The bot that kidnapped you for a ransom learns the loud way just how passionately you adore your grumpy bot when they crack another joke about Ratchet's age and you simply lose it. Held back by your chains, you crack that the bot who kidnapped you couldn't accomplish what Ratchet has if they had a billion years to do so, and what right do they have to insult when they look the way they do? "Call him old all you want, he looks better now than you ever have and ever will!"

·Perhaps it's the fact that the tiny human just insulted their appearance of all things, but the bot is frozen at the communicator, and somehow that makes you angrier. It's clearer to you now than ever before why Ratchet hurls wrenches at the bots that annoy him; nothing would be more satisfying than the "thunk" of a well aimed projectile at this jerk's head. As it stands you're willing to settle for using your words as the only weapons you have. Laughing bitterly, you ask your captor if they're only able to win an argument with bots that can't fight back, which would explain why they need you as a shield AND the corpses they keep as company. The last dig actually gets them moving towards you with a threat, but when they refer to Ratchet as your "rusty old paramour" you get a renewed burst of rage and go off once more.

·"Are you seriously trying to insult Ratchet of all bots?! Do you have any idea what he's capable of?! How many lives he's saved?! What have you accomplished lately, huh?! Besides EXTORTION?!" Feeling a tad bit flushed, it's impossible not to go all out in your tirade, especially because it feels so darn good after suffering in silence for so long. It doesn't hurt that you have so much material to work with either. This raging jerk is living in a corpse filled lair and kidnapping humans to ransom them off for cash, and they're going after one of the greatest medics the Autobots ever had? Cutting them down to size should be classified as doing the universe a favor! If you weren't so incredibly frustrated, and dangling from chains, you might have found this enjoyable.

·"Seriously! Ratchet does more good for the universe in a week than you could do in a lifetime! Plus, you think age is holding him back?! The bot walks right off the battlefield after carving up bad guys like you, only to waltz into the medibay to patch up everyone else, on a daily basis!" Though not impressed, it does appear that your captor is rethinking some things, and perhaps actually realizing they've made a pretty formidable enemy. Had that not been such a flagrantly obvious fact you'd have been satisfied. Instead you just keep going, your intense love for your docbot mingling with your frustration to pour forth in a never-ending stream of loving threats. Only a total power outage cuts off a tangent about how Ratchet's age has not impacted his ability or endurance in "other areas" of your relationship either...

·The darkness is broken by flashing lights and the crackle of energy weapons firing all around, and you just manage to catch some familiar colors flashing through the dark before a very welcome red and white frame swoops in to carefully slice you out of the chains with a laser scalpel. There's just enough time to catch a smile overflowing with emotion before you're taken into gentle hands, and as Ratchet takes you back to the ship you get a glimpse of your very roughed up kidnapper being cuffed by the remaining crew. Your partner takes you straight to the medical bay, fussing over you all the way and asking a thousand questions about your wellbeing, but without any of his usual gruffness as he does so. In fact, he's probably the softest you've ever seen him. The smile never once leaves his face as he insists on getting you fed and rested and to bed where he pulls the covers over you himself.

·In the aftermath he almost seems to melt in your presence, losing most of his grumpy persona every time he's with you no matter how long or difficult a day he's had. Though you obviously don't mind, a couple bots let you know that when you were kidnapped he was the closest to losing control anyone had ever seen him. He'd been shouting and cursing until you had interrupted the latest communication with your captor, at which point he'd been so shocked others had needed to rush in and take advantage of the prolonged signal. Evidently, hearing you defend him as you did had rocked his world in the best possible way. Between working a stressful and often thankless profession, and not ever hearing you shout in such a way before, he's been touched to learn he could be loved by someone who appreciates him as you do. It's enough to keep even the worst of grumpy days from affecting him.

Tailgate

·Truth be told, your greatest concern when you were kidnapped was for your tiny SO, as his propensity for panic could result in some very unpleasant anxiety attacks while he and the others try to rescue you. That worry on his behalf turned to fury when your kidnapper refused to stop mocking the little bot for everything from his size to his age and even for supposedly choosing an organic solely to be taller than someone. It's enough to make you see red, and your limit is quickly reached as a result of the cowardly bullying. Your explosive bout of rage is a scream of frustration that quickly morphs into an unstoppable tirade that pulls no punches. Has this big jerk been planning this for any length of time you ask, because if so, you know a couple of sparklings that could think of more mature insults!

·"Really?! You make fun of bots for being short?! He's also blue, you want to pick on him for something arbitrary, why limit yourself?!" You know it's not the smoothest insult, but darn it all, you can't bring yourself to think straight with all this rage. This bot needs to hear what an absolute creep and bully they are, because seriously who gloats like a real life cartoon villain? When they leave the communicator and try to get in your face you're only further incensed, channeling your tiny partner's courage as you wish beyond the telling of it you could punch the jerk into silence. "If there's gonna be insults, how about I open the floor to some genuine digs? Because your ugly mug is a GOLDMINE of material, okay?! Seriously, does Unicron ask YOU for beauty tips?!"

·There's sputtering in response, which you just take as a go ahead to tear them apart, because at this point you're not sure if you can really stop. After all, record shattering hideous face aside, what does this bot actually have to offer? Tailgate has saved millions! Faced with multiple varieties of death, he took out the guy hellbent on committing species wide genocide, and he doesn't even brag about it! You rub that in your captors face with all the pride you have for your partner spurring you on, hoping that you get a chance to tell Tailgate what a source of inspiration he was in these moments. At the very least you'll have to tell him how your captor froze at the enraged shouting. "Plus, Tailgate has actual friends! People LIKE him, unlike you, who I'm guessing doesn't entertain often based on the corpses you leave lying around!"

·A last ditch attempt to shut you up with a few lame threats just gets you laughing, in part because you can't believe this bot ever thought they were going to succeed at this. "You didn't even bother to check up on who you're making an enemy of, did you? I doubt it, because if you did, you'd know Tailgate has made paperweights out of bots much tougher than you!" Perhaps it's a little macabre, but it's endlessly satisfying to see your captor flinch as you describe what an absolute powerhouse your partner is, particularly how he uses his small size to levy his strength in the most destructive ways possible. It's delightful enough that, as you begin to brag about the benefits of his size relative to yours and his strength working together in more intimate settings, only something like an earthquake stops you.

·Chained as you are, there's no way to get a clear look at your captor as they attempt to flee, but thankfully the ground stills just in time to let you see the cavalry arrive. Lost Light bots pour in to stop the automated defenses from doing much at all, and in a brilliant blue and white blur your kidnapper is punched full to unconsciousness by what might as well have been a meteorite. It's only when said force of nature runs to free you and a tearful blue visor meets your eyes that you recognize Tailgate. The minibot gets you down in a hurry and embraces you in as tight a hug as is safe, talking a mile a minute about his worries and how sorry he is you had to go through all this. After assuring him he doesn't have to beat up your captor any further, you let him carry you back to the ship, getting nuzzled all the while.

·In between far more frequent cuddle sessions from the absolutely enamored Tailgate, you get pulled aside by a couple bots who just want to let you know what an impact your brave speech had on the minibot. While inconsolable during your kidnapping, to the point of swapping between rage and tears every few minutes, he'd been visibly awed once he heard you go off in his defense. That makes you understand everything far more clearly; this bot has been unsure of his self worth for so long, so hearing you face down a much larger foe because you love him so much that their taunting him drove you to frenzy... Knowing he's loved like that changed his entire worldview. You can see it in his visor every time he looks at you, and feel it in every buzzing hug, how grateful he is to have found someone who loves him.

Cyclonus

·Dating a bot capable of triggering enemy surrender with a glance requires a strong will, mostly to endure the endless questions from bots confused as to how you got Cyclonus to ask you out, but today you find yourself facing a whole new level of irritation. Though the bot that kidnapped you is obviously no match for your towering partner, they still mock the big mech through radio like they're some kind of badass, taunting him for debasing himself and growing soft by dating a fleshy. Regardless of how hard Cyclonus has worked to open up to you, hearing the personal jabs makes something within snap and go nuclear, resulting in a war cry your partner would be proud of as you rattle your chains for emphasis.

·"Can you just CAN IT with the insults?! We all know that if this fleshy wasn't here as your shield, you'd be fleeing to the other end of the galaxy!" You waste no time getting right to the heart of what's so infuriating about your captor; their spineless and cowardly nature is so obvious beneath the sneering mockery it makes you literally sick. Seeing how completely they freeze at your jab just proves your point in your mind. What, were they just expecting you to be quiet forever after dealing with THEM for the past few hours? Was the idea of resistance that surprising to them?! The calm maturity you picked up from Cyclonus is matched only by the capacity for righteous fury learned from the same source, and it's the latter that breaks out in glorious fashion.

·"Oh, what, nothing to say? No moronic insults for someone who can actually talk back? Do you need your debate opponents to be silent so you can think of a rebuttal?!" Your almost sarcastic jab actually earns you a demand to be silent, but it's so lacking in authority you can only laugh, despite not feeling any less furious with the situation. It's bad enough to be kidnapped and chained up, but by someone this incompetent? Being a tiny fraction of their size doesn't make you feel any less embarrassed for having been caught by them. It's enough frustration to make you snap again when they start coming in close, especially as another insult is levied at Cyclonus for having chosen a human so unpleasant due to his age and miserable attitude. The words are little more than kerosene on your already burning anger.

·"Do you really think you get to accuse Cyclonus of having a miserable attitude, you inept excuse for a kidnapper?! I'd rather have a conversation with these corpses than you! Not to mention, Cyclonus isn't limited to insulting people whenever he talks, unlike you!" The tirade is perhaps nonsensical with how passionately you begin to praise your partner's command of verse, but you're far too lost in your genuine adoration to care, especially as you begin to relay how wonderfully enticing his singing is to you. Every time your captor tries to command silence you just jump to yet another feature that makes your heart flutter, riding on the high of how incredibly good it feels to rub it all in their flustered face as you go. An attempt at describing his passionate grasp of verse around specific topics is stopped only by a door flying off its hinges in a burst of shattered metal.

·Security forces do nothing as a hulking purple figure enters through the smoke of considerable destruction, and your captor is left paralyzed with fear as they're hefted up by a clawed hand, one you're so relieved to see you can't help calling out their name. Cyclonus is content to toss the criminal to the rest of the crew as they arrive, and actually smiles once he beholds you safe. Freeing you of your bonds, he doesn't drop the chains until they're wrapped about your captor for some poetic justice. After that, you're carried to the nearest private spot on the ship and embraced without hesitation, the giant arms that have held you before almost shaking as he whispers how grateful he is to have you back. For an instant he sheds genuine tears when you hug him in return.

·Though the intensity of his emotions isn't as extreme as when he rescued you going forward, the big bot is far more open about his feelings than ever before, even showing them in full view of others. Surprised but not at all displeased, you are however quite thrown for a loop when someone recounts how incredibly worried he was during your kidnapping, in that he had to be convinced not to go after you alone and gouged some unfortunate furniture as he listened to the communications. Yet the moment you started your tirade, he was shocked to a whole new kind of silence. It's obvious that he hadn't even been able to process it at first, but now is fully overwhelmed and grateful for your love as he never was before. Hearing himself defended by someone he adores more than anything changed his perspective of himself, as well as his outlook on life, for how could he not see the beauty of a universe that had given him you?

Drift

·Sort of an interstellar hippy in his own way, Drift has taught you a lot about remaining calm through meditation, saying that a clear mind and control over anger is key to surviving high stress situations. The same philosophy is what he instructed you to use when others mocked his past, as he claims to be used to it and doesn't want anyone angering you on his behalf. This doesn't stop you from simmering in your current situation, dangling from chains as you might be, and admittedly being kidnapped tends to shorten one's fuse. Perhaps that's why you explode so dramatically when your abductor opens up the communication line just to mock your partner by claiming he hardly should be upset by an organic dying, considering his past, and that this current "relationship" is probably just a redemption stunt. That final mistake sets you off on a legendary tirade.

·"Are you KIDDING me?! You want to talk about STUNTS you wannabe kidnapping loser?! Do you have a projection disorder or something?! Because unlike you, Drift doesn't actually have to PROVE anything!" Never in your life have you wished to be the same height as the bots to this degree, granted though it's only because you want to strangle this jerk purely for the satisfaction of throttling them. Drift has worked to be better, and jabs about his past hurt him deeply, despite what he says. What right does this loser have to use that against him? You're so worked up fear isn't in your catalog of emotions when your captor tries to threaten you with physical harm. All you see is an overhyped grifter who got lucky, and you make that abundantly clear.

·"What, are you going to try threatening me, really? Am I supposed to be afraid of bluster now?!" The sight of a tiny organic growing red in the face with rage actually seems to give the bad bot pause, in part because you're so flushed they have to wonder if humans have a secret explosive ability that you're presently charging up. Admittedly you do feel like you might pop, but that's only because it's impossible to unleash all of your anger in a way that's truly satisfying, and you're left with spouting all the very justified insults that spring to mind. One particular thing that galvanizes your anger; how is this jerk pretending they would stand a chance against Drift?! The bot may be a literal ray of sunshine to you, but you're well aware of what he can do to enemies, and you doubt your kidnapper is in the dark about your paramour's combat prowess.

·"Would you be playing the big tough bot if he were anywhere near here?! Or if you didn't have me as a shield?! Because I doubt you'd last a moment in a one on one!" You shout, your tone of vitriol somewhat humorous considering that the point is a very valid one. While not afraid of Drift in the slightest, you know being on his bad side can be fatal in impressively short order. Perhaps that's why his soft approach to your relationship is even better. It's so special to you that in your current state you can't help but brag aggressively, going on about what a wonderful bot he is and that this loser could never hope to best him in combat or personality. Seeing them rethink it all just adds fuel to your fire, but before you can really get going on how Drift's gentle mannerisms extend to the bedroom you're interrupted by a cacophony of unfathomable origin.

·One of the entrances to the room you're in is sliced open by what you swear has to be ten swords at once, but as soon as it's down and the wielder charges in, you see only two held by a very angry looking Drift. Though accompanied by ample backup, he's an army of one as he reduces the security to pieces and almost dices up your captor. Only some obviously difficult self control lets him immobilize the bot instead. Not wasting time, your partner leaves the bad guy for the others to hurry to your side, his expression beaming with unmatched happiness and relief as he cuts you free and catches you in cupped hands. Shameless kisses and a million questions about whether or not you're hurt are your prelude to an open embrace. Never minding public affection in the past, he's still at a new level all the way back to the ship and in the days that follow.

·It's impossible not to go an hour without a loving nuzzle against your forehead, and whenever you aren't looking Drift is in the corner of your eye with an absolutely lovestruck expression on his sweet face, to the point you halfway imagine there could be hearts in his optics. Rodimus himself tells you in confidence that the unshakable ninjabot was barely able to keep himself steady after your kidnapping, obviously holding back a hurricane of pain and grief within his spark, but that changed in a flash as soon as he heard you. Accustomed to being derided, he'd been unprepared for such a passionate defense from anyone. Hearing you shout his praises had nearly driven him to tears. The pain of his past and the exclusion he faces for it has worn him down, to the point he often believes himself to be irredeemable, but you've made him have hope for himself for the first time in eons. Your love makes him see what he's done right, and from now on, he fully intends to give you and himself more to be proud of every day.

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Let's Call It Funny

Prompt: Hi! If you know about those gen z peter parker posts, could your write something based on that? With Steve Getting It (tm) because fatalistic nihilism in humor tended to show up during the world wars and we’re seeing a reflection of that now? Sorry- I just think it’d make great options for steve and peter bonding, and dad!tony but actual emotions (gasp!) You can totally ignore this if you want!

Don't ever apologize for giving me such a great ask

Read on Ao3 Part 2

Warnings: uhhh gen z humor

Pairings: none! all found family in this bitch

Word Count: 2529

Here’s the thing about humor. It’s not necessarily that one generation is any funnier than another, it’s just that high school kids are perpetually the funniest people alive. Something about being in a pressure cooker of an environment with a bunch of other people whose bodies are changing in new unpredictable ways whilst having very little say in how their lives go creates humor. Gasp of shock, right?

So basically what Peter’s trying to say is that he’s fucking hilarious.

Come on, not only does he have the default high schooler stuff, he’s also gay, which gives him an instant bonus. He’s trans, which opens up a whole new subset of humor for him to explore. He’s neurodivergent as fuck, and we all know that makes people funny as hell. And if that weren’t enough, he’s severely traumatized and he’s Spider-Man.

Peter Parker is funny as hell.

What is truly devastating—and really, it’s their loss—is that so few people seem to appreciate it.

Ned gets it. Ned’s not someone Peter would expect to not get it, just because hey, it’s Ned. They’ve met each other in the hallways and been like ‘hey! You’re still alive! Congrats on having a body!’ Only for the other one to go ‘hey! You’re alive too! I wish I had an intangible form!’

Because bodies are stupid and evolution really fucked us over but at least we’re not horses.

A solid 50% of their interactions are just quoting John Mulaney and Bo Burnham bits back and forth at each other. Peter’s never gonna forget the day they both had detention and had to watch that stupid Cap PSA—it’s propaganda, you Nazi fuckwits—and something reminded them of the ‘horse loose in a hospital’ bit and they just did it. Full out. Stood up and did the actions and everything. The rest of the room was either trying to do it with them—and failing, because they didn’t have nearly enough practice—or looking so confused. The security guard—Paul, he’s great—just looked at them blearily after they finished and went:

“I mean, you kids are right, but you’re not supposed to talk in detention.”

Well, excuse them for trying to make it more entertaining for everyone.

MJ gets it. If Peter’s being honest, he learned most of his humor from her. She is the master and it is an honor to study in her wake. He’s definitely hijacked the asking whether or not anything’s actually meaningful existentialism jokes and they’ve wormed their way into his day-to-day repertoire.

“Why are you late, Mr. Parker?”

“Time is a social construct, Mrs. B, none of us are ever late or early except in the subjective spacetime paths. The limits of our sensory perception make it so we can’t tell if anything is real, let alone whether or not they conform to some arbitrary definition of ‘time.’”

“…just sit down, Peter.”

See? It works.

Aunt May gets…worried.

Sure, they’ve actually talked about when Peter needs help and wants to reach out and when he’s just making jokes off the cuff because hey, humor’s a great coping mechanism or it’s just a joke and not that serious. Peter loves his Aunt May, so so so much, and the last thing he wants to do is really worry her. And she’s gotten pretty good at figuring out when he’s just joking and when he’s spiraling.

Sometimes, though…

“Peter,” Aunt May calls from the kitchen, “did you remember to stop by the store on your way home?”

Peter freezes halfway through the door.

“Peter?”

He swallows. “…no.”

“Why not?”

“Because I am too stressed and consumed by the swirling pit of blackness deep in my soul to remember my head is connected to my body, let alone remember to go to the store.”

Silence.

“…Aunt May?”

“Do you want to drop off your stuff and then go to the store?”

“…yeah, please.”

“Love you, Pete.”

“Love you!”

“Try to remember that you’ve got arms so you can pick stuff up.”

“Got it!”

See? It’s fine.

The Avengers don’t get it. Like, at all.

Natasha and Clint like, sorta get it? They make the same jokes all the time when they think Peter can’t hear them, which—come on, you guys are super spies, surely you know people are gonna hear you when they’re gonna hear you. Natasha will make a crack about something, Clint will laugh and shove her shoulder. It’s their dynamic, we get it. But when Peter does it…

“Hey, Baby Spider?”

Peter sticks his head up from the ceiling. “Yeah?”

“Where’re you crawling off to?”

“I’m gonna go hide in the garage.”

Natasha blinks up at him. “Why?”

“Because if I get crushed by the airlock doors then I won’t have to do my paper tomorrow.”

Silence. Natasha’s mask is too good for Peter to actually see what’s going on with her, let alone from this angle, but silence isn’t good.

“Nat—oof!”

Something blurs out of the vent nearby and tackles him down onto the couch.

“Clint!”

“Nope,” Clint mutters, wrapping Peter up in a hug as Natasha comes to join them. “You’re staying with us now, Pete.”

“Guys, I’m fine.”

“Peter,” Natasha says softly, “don’t joke about that, you’ll make us worry.”

“I don’t wanna do that,” Peter mumbles, “but it’s fine.”

“Coping mechanism, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s got too many brain cells to do that,” Clint says, ruffling Peter’s hair.

“Stark has a lot of brain cells, you see what good that does him?”

“Hmm. Guess you’re gonna have to stay awhile, Pete.”

There are worse fates. Definitely.

Thor just kind of gets confused by it. He acts like Peter isn’t going to be absolutely fine because there’s no need to do anything like that. No, Peter, you don’t have to put the bleach in first into your cereal, there’s plenty of milk left over. No, Peter, you don’t have to throw yourself off the roof because your laptop is freezing, Stark has so many just lying around. No, Peter, you don’t have to pack a rucksack and run away to the Alps and live like a recluse, come here and get a hug.

Peter suspects Thor’s playing dumb on purpose. The man is smart as hell, there’s no way all of this is flying over his head. And honestly, it warms his heart a little bit when he sees Thor’s sincere, concerned look when he thinks Peter’s not looking.

Banner and Rhodey just kinda shake their heads and move on. They’re used to it. They live and work with some of the most dramatic fucking people in the goddamn universe, they’re used to a little bit of extra humor. Occasionally one of them will give him a look that says he’s pushing his luck, but that’s not often. Less often now ‘cause he knows what he can get away with. He’s also seen them hiding smiles behind their hands or poorly disguised coughs. They’re not as slick as they think they are.

Tony.

Tony is the fucking worst.

Peter can’t get away with so much as sighing too hard before Iron Dad™ is swooping in all soft words and concerned touches. Jesus. You’d think he’d get it, he uses humor as a coping mechanism too, goddamnit, why is he so worried about Peter?

Okay, fine, he knows why.

MJ’s over at the Tower, having another one of her ‘sketch people in crisis’ appointments with Natasha. Peter is coming off of a 32-hour caffeine rush and is violently wishing for death. Tony is in the kitchen doing…something.

“Hey, do you think bleach would make a good smoothie?”

Tony wheels around to see MJ pulling a glass out of the cupboard.

“Kid—“

“Sounds like a filling breakfast,” Peter groans, “can you make me one too?”

“…I’m legitimately concerned,” comes Tony’s mutter.

MJ ignores him. “Who’s the bitch on your forehead?”

Peter rubs absentmindedly at the massive knot on his head, courtesy of a wall that rudely decided to move at the last second while Peter was attempting to walk through a doorway. “He’s called DJ Braindeath and he’s my only friend in the world.”

“Peter—“

“Oh did you meet him at the furry convention?"

“Technically it’d be a buggie convention.”

“What the hell are you two talking about?”

“The pantry doesn’t have good coffee, I’m going to Starbucks.” MJ grabs her bag. “You want anything?”

“A will to live?”

“Peter, what the fuck—“

“Oof, I’ve only got like…20 bucks.”

Peter lets his head drop back to the counter. “Then just leave me here to die.”

“Can I have champagne at your funeral?”

“I’ll be dead, I won’t fucking care.”

“God, I wish that were me.”

Then MJ’s gone and Peter gets treated to a 20-minute conversation with a very concerned Tony Stark that he doesn’t remember most of because hey caffeine crashes aren’t fun.

He definitely does it on purpose sometimes just to wind Tony up. Like there’s this one incident with an interview he does as Spider-Man and he gets asked what he thinks about Tony Stark’s newest intern, Peter Parker.

“That boy’s an embarrassment, just…complete failure. Can’t speak without stuttering through every other word and self-esteem issues all over the place. Also looks like he got dressed in the dark.”

The reporter had awkwardly moved on to another question. The interview aired later that day while Peter was at the Tower. Tony sat next to him on the couch about halfway through.

“You look good, Pete.”

Peter had mumbled halfheartedly, only to hear the reporter ask the same question.

“See, that’s the problem with having a secret identity, you don’t…” Tony trailed off as he heard the answer.

Peter snorted as Spider-Man finished talking. “Say that to my face, you bitch, get a real job. At least I don’t look like someone vomited silly string all over my spandex.”

“Are you okay?”

See? Fun.

The only one he’s made a conscious effort to not be this funny around is Steve.

Because, okay, here’s the thing. Steve’s disappointed look has no effect on him anymore. He’s immune, motherfuckers, he’s had detention too many times for it to still work. Here’s the other thing: Steve doesn’t actually use that tone of voice that often. It’s this meticulously crafted image he plays up in interviews because it catches all the bad guys so off guard when Captain America is suddenly swearing a blue streak at them and telling them to go fuck themselves in, honestly, quite creative ways. The sincere Steve Rogers disappointment and concern still very much works. Also doesn’t help that Steve does caring so fucking well, like…who gave him the right to say a few things and hold Peter like he’s something precious and do the quick one-two punch of saying a super sincere compliment and following it up with ‘I love you.’ Who did that? It’s rude. Stop it.

And yeah, Steve’s the resident Mom at the Ready. It’s a risk to even sit on your bed looking sad ‘cause here he comes, wearing something snuggly and saying ‘hey’ in that stupid, stupid compassionate voice. So Peter knows he’s just gonna end up crying from too much soft if Steve actually gets concerned. Which won’t be fair because he’s gonna try and explain that he’s fine and it’s just his sense of humor while crying. Yeah, like that’s gonna be believable.

So he’s trying not to but damnit it’s hard.

Then he walks into the kitchen one day to see Steve struggling with the toaster.

It’s one of Tony’s new prototypes—which means that anyone struggling with it is so fair—and from the looks of it, it’s managed to not only burn the bread to a crisp, but also mangle the slices beyond recognizable shape.

Peter’s not paying that much attention. He’s on his phone, heading towards his spot in the corner with the beanbag chairs and definitely doesn’t recognize Steve as he goes.

He only plops down and hears someone declare, in a completely deadpan voice: “There is no point to existing at all.”

“Oh, mood.”

He doesn’t think much of it. He doesn’t even know who said that, that’s how hyper-focused he is right now. He hears the others come in and feels Clint plonk down next to him.

“Hey, Pete.”

“Sah, dude.”

“Just vibing. Did I do it right?”

“Yeah, man you’re going great.”

“You teach Thor ‘yeet’ yet?”

“We’re getting there.”

“Steve,” he hears Tony call from the kitchen, “what the fuck did you do?”

“Language.”

“Don’t fucking talk to me about language when you’re making toast that looks like a goddamn welder’s table, what is that?”

“Your prototype’s work, I imagine.”

“How did you even—“

Clint chuckles next to him as the two of them start fondly bickering. Peter’s too busy speedrunning the five stages of grief in his head.

Did…did Steve say the thing about there being no point to existence at all?

No…no way.

He must be imagining things.

Then, of course, there’s a chime on his phone.

Ned: Did u do the bio hw?

There was bio homework?

Ned: yeah, due at noon

“I now know why God abandoned this timeline and when will death come to take me?”

The room goes silent.

Shit.

“Peter,” Clint says, “it’s gonna be fine, you can do bio homework in your sleep—“

“Are you okay?” Ah, that’s Thor.

“Kid—“

And Nat, and Tony’s probably rushing over here as he speaks.

Then there’s another voice.

“We can only pray the reaper arrives early for his appointment with us, kid.”

Peter’s head snaps up.

Steve.

Steve fucking Rogers raises a coffee cup at him in salute and takes a sip. He makes a face.

“…that was definitely salt,” he mutters, before shrugging and downing the whole thing.

…what?

Peter’s still staring at him until he catches his gaze and winks.

Oh, fuck yes.

“Steven Grant Rogers,” Tony says, hands on his hips, “explain.”

Steve just gives him a look. “I grew up in the Great Depression, Tony, and I was in the army. You don’t think I have a fatalistic sense of humor?”

“Plus the fact that most of my generation is resorting to types of humor found when death and stress are so ever-present that you have to joke about it says something,” Peter adds, “doesn’t it?”

Steve raises his cup again. “See? He gets it.”

And just like that, the bond between Peter Parker and Steve Rogers was written, formed, and sealed in salt and existentialist depression.

“There’s two of you,” Tony mumbles, “oh my god, there’s two of you.”

“Oh, you just wait ’til Buck and Sam get back.”

Peter can’t fucking wait.

#marvel #mcu #avengers #spider man #peter parker #fic #dragonbabbles

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arminbitchlover · 3 years

Text

reincarnated lovers (3)

armin arlert x f! reader

summary: reader and armin decide to give the start of their relationship a second chance.

word count: 3.7k

content warnings: content warning: mentions of drug use, vaginal and oral sex (F & M receiving), a slight insinuation of overstimulation, fingering, praise, & creampie

“Wow, you have a nice apartment.” Armin opens the door for you, and you gaze at his spacious apartment in awe.

“No need to flatter me.” He slightly chuckles, placing his keys on the small table against the wall.

“Trust me, I would never.” You tease as he grabs your hand and leads you to his kitchen.

You immediately take notice of how modern and simplistic his home is. The color palette throughout his apartment is cool tones, mostly consisting of white and gray. It somewhat makes you feel like you're in a museum rather than someone’s house. He doesn't have any pictures of family or friends on his wall, not even a frame of him and Eren.

“How do you feel about pancakes?” He crouches down to the bottom cabinet and pulls out a baby blue griddle.

“That actually sounds amazing right now.” You place your stomach in your hand, realizing how queasy you feel with only alcohol in your stomach.

“Could you get the pancake mix from the pantry, please?” He smiles at you while grabbing the oil from the upper shelf and placing it on the counter.

You open the door and instantly spot a never-ending pile of ramen neatly stacked on the floor. Adorable. Your eyes shift to the box of pancake mix on the middle shelf that's surrounded by other dessert mixes and grab it. You walk over to Armin, who already took out the ingredients with a bowl, measuring cups, and a spoon that's nicely arranged next to the griddle.

“I’m letting you know right now, I am not a gourmet chef so you cannot complain about the results,” He playfully warns you as he opens up the pancake mix.

“Armin, we’re making box pancakes. Not even from scratch.” You laugh, pulling out the plastic bag from the box, and cutting it open.

“You don’t have to make me feel bad about it.” He fakes a pout as he starts to pour the oil into the measuring cup.

You try to give him a serious look, but immediately break out into a smile when he makes eye contact with you. He hands you the ingredients while you incorporate everything into the bowl, enjoying the presence of one another.

As you pour the batter on the griddle, Armin starts asking you random questions from your dream job as a kid to your biggest fears in life. While it was somewhat arbitrary, you thought how cute he looked while he listened to absolutely every single word that came from your lips. Occasionally, while you're busy flipping pancakes and answering his questions, he gets a quick glimpse at your slightly parted lips, but you never seem to notice.

"You're a really interesting person, you know." He leans back against the counter, watching you place your dinner onto the plates.

"I doubt that very much." You argue while taking the plates to his dinner table.

"Well, I think otherwise, and you still haven't thanked me for making dinner for our date." He rolls his eyes but quickly breaks character, seeing the confused look on your face.

"Huh, so it wasn't you that was just sitting on your ass and questioning me as if I was at a job interview?" You joke with him, taking the seat that's across from him.

"I have no recollection of such." He smirks as he walks over to the refrigerator and grabs two water bottles.

"Thank you." You takes the water bottle out of his hand, taking notice of how pretty his hands looked around your beverage.

He smiles and sits down, eyeing what he thought to be the best-looking pancakes he's ever seen.

"Well, enough about me, I want to get to know you now." You make eye contact, holding it a bit longer than needed before looking down and cutting up your meal, not wanting to make yourself look weird.

"Ask away." He opens his water and takes a quick sip.

"How were you like as a kid?" You begin eating your pancakes, waiting for Armin to answer.

"I was and still am a quiet kid. I've always minded my own business, so I didn't have many friends growing up. I only had Eren and Mikasa and we only met because they defended me when they saw some older kids messing with me." You look up at him, only to be met with a neutral face.

"I'm sorry about that, Armin." You break eye contact, worried that you may have just ruined his night by making him reminiscent.

"Don't apologize, I stopped thinking about those assholes a long time ago." He gives you a reassuring smile as he continues to eat his food.

"I'm happy to hear that." You take a swig from your water bottle, thinking of the next question to ask him. "What's your favorite memory? Whether it be from last week or years ago." You lighten the mood, immediately noticing Armin break out into a huge grin.

"There was this one time during senior year in high school with Eren and Mikasa and we smoked weed but for Eren, it was his first time. So, I guess to like 'impress'," He starts giggling as he does air quotes, "me and Mikasa, he decided to take a long ass hit and it completely backfired on him. When he first breathed out, he started coughing but tried holding it back, but he just started hacking nonstop, and every time he tried drinking water, he would just spit it back up." He throws his head back, cracking up while finishing his story.

"So, you enjoy watching other people suffer?" You smile, not aware of how contagious his laugh is.

"Yeah, I guess." He keeps laughing as his eyes start to tear up.

"It just makes it so much funnier than I was already somewhat high, and everything just gets a billion times more amusing than what it really is." He chuckles before looking back into your eyes, taking in the beauty that'sin front of him.

"Damn, I wish I was there to see it." You snicker, thinking about how Eren embarrassed himself even though you feel a bit guilty thinking it was funny in the first place.

"Well, we frequently have sessions so you should definitely join us if you'd like." He finishes up his dinner and takes his plate to the sink.

"I'll think about it." You quickly eat the last of your pancakes and feel your phone vibrate in your pocket.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

roomie <3

Today 12:12 AM

where tf are u

i've literally been gone for the

past hour

with armin right ;)

uhhh

omg i need to stop texting you and

sleepover while you're at it :)

we'll see (;

have fun and use protection

love you

oh god

love u too

Read 12:14 AM

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

"Is everything alright?" Armin looks at you concerned, noticing your eyes widening at your screen.

"Huh? Oh yes, uh it was just Sasha." You put your phone back in your pocket, not wanting to give Armin any ideas.

Your heartbeat quicken as you face Armin, Sasha's message ingrained in your head. You doubt anything would happen tonight, it's barely your second date, but it was something to think about. As soon as your mind starts wandering into more inappropriate thoughts, you're interrupted by Armin's voice.

"Do you need me to take you back to your dorm?" He starts making his way to the door, not letting you respond.

"No, I can stay." You clear your throat; he stops in his tracks, having a bit of excitement by your answer.

"Oh okay, well is there anything you want to do?"

He stares into your eyes, feeling the tiny spark that wants to ignite. You feel your face start to heat up, trying to muster up anything to continue your night with Armin.

"Can I ask you one more question?"

"Of course." He feels his chest tighten, the electricity between you grow stronger as the silence stretches out.

What the hell do you want to ask him? You have little to no idea what you wanted to face him with. While you have to admit, everything about him at this very moment is so fucking perfect and you don't mind trying something, you wouldn't dare pressure him into anything. You continue bouncing with thoughts and kept convincing yourself that a little persuasion wouldn't hurt him and besides, it would be a shame if nothing fun went down.

"Is it okay if I kiss you?" You stay in your seat, worried that you may have broken a boundary that Armin had no intention of crossing. Your chest gets knotted up as you feel embarrassment rush over your body, regret started to quickly sink in.

His eyes widen and feels his heartbeat in his throat, indulging at the thought of doing so much more than just a kiss. He starts walking towards you, not aware that he didn't answer your question, rather just pulls you out of your seat and snakes his arms around your waist.

"Is uh- this okay?" His face turns into a bright pink, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"Yes." You wrap your arms around his neck, not wasting a second longer.

You meet your lips with him, a soft whimper comes from his throat as you pull him closer. Your lips move in sync as if you had already done this a million times before. You bring one of your hands to his hair, slightly gripping it to try and get another noise out of him. You feel him pour all of his desire for you into that one kiss.

"Fuck." He mumbles under his breath, moving his hands to your ass, slightly squeezing it. Before you can take it any further, he pulls away from your kiss, grabs your hand, and takes you to his bedroom.

"Are you fine with this?" He has a concerned look on his face, making sure what he felt was a mutual feeling.

"Mhm." You nod your head, and he collides his lips with yours, drawing you in for a more heated kiss.

You part your lips, allowing his tongue to slip through, and you feel your body thrill with electricity. Everything just feels so natural between the two of you, there's no second-guessing or hesitation; it all felt right.

You both slowly started making your way to his bed, not breaking away your kiss as he lowered you onto it when the back of your knees is met with the edge. His hands traveled lower and made their way under your shirt and his cold fingertips are met with your warm soft stomach while pulling your shirt over your head. You slightly gasped when he came into contact with your skin, but this doesn't stop him from going any further. He took his lips to your neck, softly sucking and biting along your collarbone, letting his hot tongue glide over each spot he marked.

"Shit-" You choke and slightly arch your back, thinking to yourself how you've never felt this kind of delectation from someone before.

You grab his chin and pull him back to your lips and push his wrist down to your clothed core. He lightly presses against you, causing a jolt in your thighs while you moaned into his mouth. You feel a slight grin form on his face as he continues to tease you and felt you grind against his middle finger.

"You sound so pretty," He whispers into your ear.

You feel the arousal pooling low in your stomach, feeling him slowly dip under your panties and started massaging circles on your clit. You felt your legs start to slightly tremble and your back arched even more than before as the heat from his body filled you with a wave of delight.

"Armin." You grip your hands against his shoulder, becoming desperate for things to start escalating.

"Say my name again," He commands as he lifts his head and stares into your eyes, full of lust and desire.

"Armin, give me more, please," You whine, feeling your walls fluttered around nothing.

"Anything for you." He makes his way down your body, leaving a trail of peppered kisses from your neck to your pelvis.

He pulls off your panties, leaving you in only your bra, admiring what was inches away from his face. You could almost feel his gaze travel all over your body. You look down and make eye contact with him, watching him lower his face into you. You grasp the bedsheet and your eyes rolled back as his tongue lightly flicks against your clit. You buck your hips against him, growing incredibly impatient and he knows it.

"C'mon, please," You whimper, moving your hands to his head, and clutching his golden hair.

He grips the sides of your thighs and begins devouring you, his tongue becoming completely coated with your slick arousal. You feel his nose bump against your clit and causes your vision to swim while tugging on his locks from the bliss Armin created. You suddenly feel one of his fingers slip into you effortlessly, causing your mind to go blank while he curls it to hit the perfect spot.

"More," You cry out, grinding on his face as you felt your orgasm start to build up.

Without any hesitation, he slips another finger into you, widening your legs even more, making you start to see stars. It all starts to become too much for you, the stimulation starts to overload all over your drenched center. His tongue vigorously presses against your clit and fingers hitting your sweet spot, making everything feel so delirious.

"Sh-shit, Armin I'm close." You dig your nails into his scalp, throwing your head back, trying to hold off as long as possible to make it last a little longer.

"Let me hear you." He pull away for a second before enveloping himself back into you, making sure you feel nothing but pleasure.

That's all it takes to put you over the edge, and you reach your climax while moaning out his name. Your body becomes filled with a riptide of euphoria as you lose yourself in all the sensations. You can't believe the way he makes you feel; every little thing he does to you makes you feel so weak and submissive to him. Your legs are trembling, and he doesn't waste any time and begins to start kissing your inner thighs while gently rubbing your clit to help soothe you from your high.

"God, you're so beautiful," He breaths out while making his way back up your body and to your chest while unclipping your undergarment with a single hand.

"Y-You make me feel so fucking good." Your hands moves across his shoulder blades as he starts kissing your breasts, using his index finger and thumb to stimulate your nipples.

His other hand travels over your curves, feeling as if he needs to memorize every single feature of your body. You feel ecstasy relish over you, breathing heavily as Armin's lust for you takes over his mind. You can't ask for more than this right now, having someone do everything they could to make you feel nothing but absolute pleasure and you want to return the favor.

You slide up from under him, sitting up against the pillow, and flip him to the bottom.

"Wha-" You cut him off with a rough kiss, moving your hands to the bottom of his long sleeve, tugging at it.

You pull away and allow him to take off his shirt, admiring his pale, milky body. You can't believe the sight in front of you, he looks so fucking beautiful. You meet with his eyes and notice embarrassment rush over his face. You lean down and give him a gentle but passionate kiss.

"You're so handsome," You whisper his ear before you nibble on his earlobe, causing his thighs to slightly jolt.

You begin kissing down to his jawline, somewhat pressing your tongue against it while your hand softly traces his abs. You feel his stomach muscles contract under touch while his arms loosely wrap around your waist, delicately sliding his palms across your back. It doesn't take long for you to make your way down his body while you make sure to leave a hickey or two on his chest before meeting his bulge.

"You d-don't have to." He starts sitting up, but you place your hand on his chest to stop him.

"Let me make you feel good." You plead, pulling off his pants and boxers to reveal his hard cock that was seeping of pre-cum, just for you.

You run your hands on his thighs before bringing one up to the base of his dick. You look back at Armin, who seemingly has his head back while his face is flushed into a soft red. You glob spit on his dick before pumping your hand slowly, making sure that he feels every little sensation you're making. He lets out a shaky exhale, trying his hardest not to release with only a single touch.

You smirk to yourself feeling him pulse in your palm before moving it back down to the base and swiping your tongue on his tip.

"O-Oh." He moans out, moving one of his hands to your head.

You start humming very quietly, bobbing your head up and down with the slight pressure of Armin's palm. He groans, feeling his face heat up with everything you're doing to him.

As seconds passed, Armin's pressure on the back of your head only becomes more forceful, making you gag a bit and cause tears to form as he starts throat fucking you. It doesn't take long to begin to feel him twitch in the back of your throat, but before he could release himself, you pull away, looking up and seeing a shocked look on his face.

"I'm sorry, did I take too far?" He starts sliding up against his headboard, thinking he made you uncomfortable.

"No! Not at all... I just want to do something more." You hesitate with your words.

All you want at this very moment is to make sure Armin felt nothing but pleasure from you. Your heart starts thumping sporadically, loving the idea of riding him till he couldn't take it anymore.

"Y-Yeah, of course," He stutters as he quickly pulls out a condom from the drawer in his nightstand.

You think to yourself how cute he lookes getting flustered and excited with the thought of you topping him. You watch him slightly stumble while taking the condom out of its packaging before rolling it on himself. He looks back at you, a smirk on his face as he grasps your waist and pulls you onto his dick.

You align yourself with him before lowering yourself, watching his head fall back. His eyes become filled with desire as you bite your lip from his cock stretching you out.

"Shit.." He groans as you take all of him in, feeling your walls become adjusted to his cock.

You don't move for a second, savoring how it feels with him inside of you; feeling connected with one another. But once you begin to move, it's impossible to stop.

You start off slow and sensual, feeling him hit your cervix that caused a delightful pain in you. You bend down to his face leaving kisses all over across his jaw as you slowly move against him. You don't want this to end, everything feels so right.

"You feel amazing." He drags out his words, sliding his hands up and down the sides of your body.

You pick your head back up, speeding up from his praise.

"I hope I make you feel so fucking good," You cry out, feeling him start to hit all the right spots that you didn't even know were there.

Before your legs could start to burn, you feel his hands form a good grip on you before he starts thrusting forward, at this point making himself fuck you instead.

"A-Armin!' You yelp, feeling overloaded from the overwhelming pressure that begins to build up inside you.

He starts controlling the rhythm, taking all the power you thought you had over him. You grip his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped markings from his strokes becoming harder and deeper.

He admires the way your tits bounce every time he thrusts into you, wanting to see it happen over and over again. He loves seeing your head falls back as your eyes roll to the back of your head, starting to lose control of yourself from everything he's doing to you. He worships the idea that he's the one making you feel this good.

"I'm about to.." You close your eyes, letting yourself surrender and submerge into the wave of pleasure.

"Fuck, me too." His eyes darken, picking up the pace as your grip on him began to loosen.

You feel your stomach swoop from his words.

"C-Can I cum inside you? He groans, feeling himself twitch in you, worried that he might release himself too soon.

"Please." You unravel yourself onto him, your walls flutter against him and your arousal drips out of you.

"Armin!" You cry out his name one last time, the sensation becoming too much that it was almost painful.

The feeling of bliss and ecstasy take over as you feel his cum gush into you while moaning out your name. You ride him out a little longer, helping him come back down from his high before lying next to him.

You both exchange lazy kisses with one another, savoring each other's warmth for as long as possible.

"Thank you for an amazing second first date." You smile, resting your head against his chest while he softly caresses your jaw.

"You deserve nothing but the best." He kisses your forehead before pulling you closer to him.

At this moment, you fee nothing but happiness; you know from then on that Armin is the person that you're going to spend the rest of your life with. You just can't believe that it took you nineteen years to find your soulmate, but luckily, you'll be spending the rest of your lives together in pure bliss.

a/n: armin does ask reader permission to cum inside her even though he has a condom on because he wanted to make sure she was completely comfortable with it :)

previous chapter | series masterlist

#tw: drug use #tw: overstimulation #tw:creampie #tw: praise kink #armin x reader #armin arlert x reader smut #armin arlert #armin arlert smut #aot armin #snk armin #armin arlert imagine #armin arlert x reader

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softranswolves · 3 years

Text

For It May Not Be My Time

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Rating: Teen

Ships: n/a

Characters: Derek Hale, Laura Hale, Lydia Martin, Stiles Stilinski, Deaton

Words: 1598

LAURA HALE APPRECIATION WEEK - DAY FOUR THEME: resurrection

When Lydia shows up at his door to tell him his name unlocked the last of the list, he doesn't react. He knows Braeden is watching him, gauging how he responds. He knows Lydia will slowly come down from her premonition and switch to fix-it mode. She came alone, not wanting him to feel subjected to the pack's stares, but he knows that Stiles knows, and the kid has never been great at keeping pertinent information quiet.

He insists that he's fine each time he's asked, Braeden deciding to let him stew in whatever he's feeling while Scott and Stiles try to get more out of him. The latter goes so far as to goad Derek, trying to taunt him into talking but that isn't something they've ever done and he doesn't plan on starting now. It's easy to push back when they ask, because he's being honest. He isn't looking forward to dying, but he's resigned to it, knowing he's made his mother proud, made his family proud. He's worked to right the wrongs Peter has done, making Hale a respectable name again. Maybe he'll get to be with them soon.

"She didn't show you the whole list, did she?" Stiles asks a few days later. The whole pack has been working overtime to protect their own and figure out who is behind the deadpool in the first place. Kira returned after staying in hospital with her mom, and Scott has taken some time away from everyone to be alone with her, leaving Stiles with nobody else to pester.

"Why does it matter, Stiles? I'm marked for death, I know that already." He's exasperated but tolerant, realizing he might actually end up missing the banter they have. His gaze doesn't leave the gun he's reassembling, a task Braeden gave him for when he needs something to fill the spare time.

"Because there's a name on it that might draw your attention, sour wolf." Stiles is serious, and while this has become the norm after his possession, it's still out of place.

"So? Who was it?" He can hear the uptick in Stiles' pulse, scents anxiety in the air, but maintains his focus. If he engages, Stiles may take it as invitation for another attempt at a heart-to-heart.

There's no response for a moment, just the sound of paper unfolding, before a crumpled sheet slides into Derek's line of sight. He looks up at Stiles, who crosses his arms and simply nods toward the paper to emphasize Derek should look at it. Obliging, he scans the sheet, landing on a name two-thirds down the list.

"That's not possible," he says, eyes stuck on the letters. He doesn't pay attention to the numbers, just that string of impossibility.

"Are you sure?" Stiles asks, voice tense but gentle.

"You saw her body, you know it's not possible."

"Also shouldn't be possible for Peter to be alive, what with his quasi-possession of Lydia a few months ago, yet here we are."

Silence blossoms between them, and Derek thanks the universe for Stiles letting him sit with the information.

"Could it be outdated? Maybe the list isn't live, maybe it was made years ago," Derek suggests. He looks up to Stiles, eyes wide in hopeful shock. The only response he gets is a shrug as Stiles considers and starts to pace, running a hand through his hair in contemplation.

"I mean, it could be. We still don't know anything about it besides where the money came from. Lydia says she can feel a tangible thread to Laura, but she never met her and couldn't say for sure what it means."

Derek nods, standing to look out the window in thought.

"Have you talked to Deaton? Maybe he knows something, being human like you."

"We were kind of waiting to see what you wanted us to do," Stiles says. "She was your sister, after all, and there's no way we're bringing it to Peter without you. Y'know, her literal murderer?" He's pushing at Derek's buttons again, but this time he doesn't mind quite as much. He just nods again before turning back to Stiles.

"We can take the Camaro," Derek says, walking toward the door after grabbing a jacket and his keys."Though we should stop to pick up Lydia."

"Why Lydia?" Stiles asks as he follows after Derek.

"She can explain to Deaton what feelings she's having about Laura. He may be able to interpret them better than you or I could."

"Makes sense." Stiles is quiet after that, not saying anything for so long that Derek thinks it may be the longest he's gone without talking.

While he may have preferred this conversation to happen between the veterinarian and himself privately, he knew Lydia and Stiles would be useful at asking questions he may not consider and keep Derek from going too far off the deep end. The last time he'd been in a room with him alone was the night he kidnapped Deaton, thinking him to be the Alpha at the time. Things may have changed but he still kept his distance.

The boys drive to the Martin house, texting Lydia to join them, and continue the last few minutes to the Vet Clinic. Lydia was unsurprised when she sat down in the car, but seems uneasy around Derek, as though his impending death prediction is making her uncomfortable. He doesn't let himself dwell on it, instead focusing on clearing up his confusion.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Deaton asks when the trio arrives, motioning to the chairs in the back to sit in. Lydia takes a seat while Stiles continues the pacing he had started at the loft, and Derek simply hands Deaton the list of names.

"See anyone on there that shouldn't be? Any impossible names jumping out?" His voice is raised despite his efforts, and he clenches his fists to ground himself.

"I do," Deaton starts, his usual tone of knowing more than the rest of the room. "What do you think?" He directs the question at Lydia.

"I think... it's not an accident that her name is there," Lydia tries. "These lists, they don't feel arbitrary, as if everyone supernatural in Beacon Hills was added. Cora isn't on there, and as far as we know she's alive." She doesn't seem to want to meet Derek's eye, but he can understand it.

"So you think she's alive." It's a statement, not a question, but Derek' bluntness cuts through the room.

"I didn't say that," Lydia says quietly. "She doesn't feel dead, but she also doesn't feel alive either. It's not the same as when you were taken by Kate, but it's similar." She stands and puts her hand on top of Derek's, a similar motion to a few weeks ago when he'd been lying on the same table they're gathered around now, only a teenaged version of himself.

"So where does that leave us?" Stiles asks. He notes the way Derek has gone tense, and decides to push once more. "Derek, what's wrong? Isn't it a good thing if your sister is still with us?"

He's leaning over the table, arms holding his weight up at the edge, and he shakes his head, smiling to himself a little.

"I was so ready to die," he breathes out. "I'm just so... tired, and when Lydia told me my name was a key for the deadpool? I was relieved. I could stop fighting, stop pretending I know what the hell I'm doing, and be with her again."

Lydia reaches her arm up to rub circles against his back, feeling his sigh beneath her hand.

"The others, I miss them everyday. But for years it was just me and Laura against the world. I don't know what I'm supposed to do if she's alive somehow."

"You keep fighting," a voice chimes in, and it's familiar, too familiar. Derek spins around to see his older sister standing there, a sad smile on her face as she plays with the pendant hanging from her neck.

"Laura? Wha- how?" Derek is frozen in place, mouth hanging open as he stumbles over his words trying to speak properly.

"I'm sorry, Derek, I'm so sorry." She rushes forward to pull him into a hug before taking a step back, holding him at arm's length. "You've grown in just these past few months, Der. Look at you." She has tears in her eyes and laughs a little.

Derek still hasn't spoken, but Laura doesn't seem to mind.

"I haven't been back too long, I promise. I just needed to get my bearing before I came back into your life, especially considering how mine ended."

"How did you come back?" Stiles cuts in, curiosity getting the better of him. Laura turns to look at him but someone else answers first.

"Peter," Lydia says. "It happened when I brought back Peter, didn't it?" Her voice is small, shaking slightly as she recalls those traumatic months, only part of which she actually remembers.

"You're the smart one, aren't you?" Laura answers. "I still don't really know how, and Deaton hasn't been able to fully explain it either. But yes, when you resurrected him, it ended up like a package deal. Whether it was some karmic twist of fate or just Hale blood keeping us bound together, I'm back. And apparently being hunted despite only the people in this room knowing I'm alive." She scoffs at this last bit, turning her attention back to Derek.

"I'm back, baby brother. What do you say we figure this out together?"

#*fics #derek hale #laura hale #i'll just tag them since they're the focus #LHAW21

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iamsho · 4 years

Text

part 13 - not bad

prev: part 12

next: part 14

Masterlist

word count: 1k

“I remember the video that Kodzuken posted” as the group was waiting for the food. Hinata keep telling his favorite videos that you and your creator friends posts. Atsumu as a new fan of the said group asked what’s all about it.

“It was Y/n complaining about the sandwich” Kuroo and Bokuto remembered that exact moment, and shared to the group that you were a bit drunk there. Well, you were drunk but not wasted. That caught your attention and you wanted to stop them from going further. “Let me see!” Atsumu exclaimed.

“I think it’s better if-” Kuroo covered your mouth and already showing them the video in his phone to the group.

“Well, this sandwich is an unmitigated disaster.” you were examining your sandwich as if it was a textbook. “I asked for a turkey and roast beef with lettuce and swiss on whole wheat.” You were facing Kenma’s camera and went back from what you were doing. Akaashi as the ‘mom’ of the group asked “What’d they give you?”

You sighed and said “Turkey and roast beef with swiss and lettuce and whole wheat” and now you were crying. You set down your sandwich and folded your arms, you look like a six-year-old kid who’s having a tantrum because your mommy didn’t buy the toy you 'badly needed'.

Silence filled the room and four pair of eyes were staring at you, asking for you to continue your statement. “It’s the right ingredient but in the wrong order” you mumbled. You were about to reach your phone to talk to the manager of the sandwich place but you passed out on your sandwich.

“Okay that’s enough” You were trying to get the phone from Kuroo’s hands but he skipped some parts to show them the best part. Bokuto hugged or trapped you in order for you to stop attacking Kuroo.

You woke up from your 5-minute nap and grabbed your sandwich. “Eat your sandwich” Akaashi ordered. You examined the sandwich again and took a bite, seconds later you were crying again. “this is the most effing sandwich that I ever tasted. Gordon Ramsay is now shaking” You went closer to Akaashi and placed the now tear apart sandwich in his each side of his face.

“Idiot sandwich! It was not in order!” You went feral and tried to choke Kenma for telling you that you were a bit dramatic and the video was cut off.

“that’s enough about me. Atsumu. Tell us about yourself” trying to change the conversation quickly. Atsumu was startled and don’t know what to say, all he could think about is that his idol is talking to him. THE Y/N GODDESS IS TALKING TO ME.

“Okay, I’m a Libra, which probably tells you way more than you know” Atsumu proudly said. Kuroo coughed.

“Yes, it tells us that you participate in the mass cultural delusion that the sun’s position relative to arbitrary constellations at the time of your birth somehow affects your personality” Kuroo sarcastically replied. Atsumu was lost, way lost. “Participate in the what?” he asked.

Kuroo was about to insult him again but you beat him to it. “I think what Kuroo’s trying to say is that Libra wouldn’t have been our first guess” you then nudged your partner’s elbow to warn him.

“Oh yeah, a lot of my fans think I’m a fire sign” Kuroo rolled his eyes and badly wants to say something to him. “And I like fatty tuna” Atsumu added. Now, Kuroo is having a break down because of the said information.

Everyone was worried and asked what’s wrong with him. “It’s just that people who likes fish matters to him. A lot” you informed them.

A waiter approached your table and began distributing your foods, Sakusa who’s been quiet for the whole time, passed you your order. You gave him a faint ‘thank you’ and grabbed your utensils.

The group said their prayers and started eating.

“Why don’t they have chopsticks?” Hinata asked. Bokuto was all giddy and looked at you, waiting for you to respond, and Kuroo just sighed.

“Hinata, dear, we’re in an authentic Thailand restaurant. Thailand has had the fork since the latter half of the 19th century. And they don’t put fork in their mouth, they use it to put the food on a spoon, then goes into their mouth” You explained and proceed eating.

“Ask her about the napkin. I dare you” Bokuto suggested. You then realized that you’ve been garrulous the whole time, and some people find that really annoying about you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be this talkative this evening”

“I quite enjoy it” Sakusa mumbled. He then realized what he said and checked if you heard it but you were too focused on your Pad Thai. He sighed in relief and went back to his food.

Little did he know, you were trying so hard to hide your smile and the blush that is starting to form on your cheeks. You badly wanted to thank him since he’s the first person to point out that they like your talkative side, well except for Bokuto.

The night went on and the group continued to talk, mostly Hinata and his stories about Brazil. He then shares his strategies on how to catch crab in the beach.

When the group was now ready to leave, you all exchanged numbers to plan future hang outs. Sakusa was the last person you asked. You were to shy, because he’s quite intimidating wearing a mask.

“-and 9. L/n, I’m sorry about earlier, but please stop calling me, um, names” he apologized again. He doesn’t know why he keeps trying to start a conversation with you, he would just normally leave someone.

“No worries” you assured him. The two of you stared at each other, for at least a minute. Kuroo rushed you and said it’s time to go home.

“So, Sakusa, you like my voice, huh?” you then smirked and walked away, leaving him standing there, shocked. He didn’t move at all, too scared to move any muscle, and all he can do was to say “Fuck”

additional

Sakusa really find Y/n's voice calming

Atsumu heard it too and wants to tease Sakusa about it

He did tease him but he sprayed lysol after that

After all the commotion, Sakusa stayed up late watching some of your videos and finds it really entertaining

source/facts

bbt references

i made a fanon reference of Atsumu about him being 'sangwoo'.

an: i did this in one go. so yeah😃👍 i'm quite satisfied.

taglists are open! send an ask or message!

taglists: @heavenini @elianetsantana @weebshit-swag @imtheseventhchicken @toaster-stick @birdiewolf @euphorihan @kathasblog @ssuna @sirachano0dles @kellesvt @lcsbianist @mellowknightcolorfarm @tintina365 @unhappyraspberry @cowward @d0llpie @mindofess @just-snog-already

#sold out smau #haikyuu smau #haikyuu!!#hq smau #hq #sakusa smau #sakusa x y/n #sakusa fic #sakusa kiyoomi #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi smau #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #haikyuu kiyoomi #sakusa scenarios #sakusa x reader

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jumpingjaxx13 · 4 years

Text

First Lines

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

No one tagged me, but I saw it and thought it would be fun! I’ll tag @boostthatgold and @immaplatypus if you want to participate! No pressure obvs!

Also, as a disclaimer, I realized that many of my first lines are rather abrupt, simple sentences, so I put in the first few lines for some. I’ll be putting a “Keep Reading” a little bit of the way down!

Finally, if you decide you want to read one of these fics, be sure to read the tags!! Many of these contain angst and/or dark themes, but not all. Please heed the tags so you can make sure it’s right for you!

1. Purpose, Kurogiri & Tomura Shigaraki

“Do you trust me?” It was a heavy question to expect a young child to answer, but there was no way to avoid asking it.

2. Tuesday Morning Flowers, Ougai Mori/Yukichi Fukuzawa

As of late, Tuesdays had become Ougai Mori's favorite day of the week. There was nothing particularly special about it-- in fact, it was an arbitrary selection that didn't harbor much significance-- but he had given it meaning of his own volition.

3. Understanding Love, Ryuunosuke Akutagawa/Atsushi Nakajima

Ryuunoske Akutagawa understood hatred.

It was something he had been saturated with as far back as he could remember. Whether he was struggling on the streets or thriving in the Port Mafia, he was more than familiar with being the object of fear and hatred. Even more so, he was accustomed to dishing it out.

4. Unstoppable Force, Ranpo Edogawa/Edgar Allan Poe

They found him on the sidewalk.

Over the course of his life, Ranpo had seen more corpses than the average person would ever wish to. They rarely perturbed him; they were little more than another element to any given case he was working on. Gruesome scenes didn’t leave him fazed in the slightest. He’d seen where a knife had sliced through someone’s throat, bullets pierced their chest, or their body had been mutilated to the point of entrails seeing the light of day.

Never before had he seen a body look this peaceful .

5. In the Language of Flowers Ch 2, Teru Hanazawa/Shigeo Kageyama

Kageyama Shigeo liked Takane Tsubomi.

Teru knew that well enough. Hell, anyone who had spent a decent amount of time around Shigeo would know that. It wasn’t something he necessarily tried to hide.

6. In the Language of Flowers Ch 1, Yuusuke Sakurai/Megumu Koyama

Love; what a concept. It was easily the strongest force in the universe while simultaneously being the most volatile. Love could be a saving grace and everything someone needed; Love could be the most destructive weapon known to mankind when wielded as such.

7. Lovely, Hatchi Kita/Robby Yarge

Betrothal.

Hatchi had only been home for a short while before the topic was brought up again. It wasn’t new in the slightest-- he had always known that he would be paired off with some wealthy gentlewoman and that he was going to have to at least pretend to like it-- but he hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.

8. Flawless, Katsuki Bakugou & Tsunagu Hakamata

“Ouch! Watch what you’re doing with that thing!”

“If you weren’t squirming around so much, you wouldn’t get poked as often.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

9. Where It Doesn’t Hurt, Tsunagu Hakamata/Keigo Takami

Heroism and death walked hand in hand. Any hero who insisted otherwise was either new, naive, or completely in denial. Hero society itself was born from the need to protect people against a new form of death and destruction that had razed the world upon the introduction of quirks, and it was impossible to separate the two.

10. Casual, Shouto Todoroki/Tenya Iida

Shouto was familiar with affection in theory . He knew what it was supposed to be like. When he was young, he experienced brief moments of loving kindness from his mother wherein she would kiss his forehead and run her fingers through his hair (the right side; he didn’t notice it at that age, but she always favored his right side).

11. Playing the Villain, Shuichi Iguchi & Tenko Shimura/Tomura Shigaraki

You can play with us, but you have to be the villain!

That was what the other kids said every time Shuichi approached them, costume cape tied around his neck and eager to join in with the other little ‘heroes.’ Even at only five years of age, he was more than familiar with that kind of discrimination-- that kind of unfairness -- but it never stopped him from going back to try again.

12. Running Out of Time, Hari Kurono/Kai Chisaki

Hari’s relationship with time was a unique one; that much, he could recognize without any issue.

13. Remembering Shirakumo, Kurogiri-centric, background Kurogiri/Atsuhiro Sako, background Shouta Aizawa/Hizashi Yamada

Being caught hadn’t been part of the plan.

14. Becoming Kurogiri, Kurogiri-centric, Kurogiri/Atsuhiro Sako, Kurogiri & Tomura Shigaraki

Something was wrong. He could feel it in his bones: a deep, throbbing ache within him making his limbs heavy and distress swell up and spread to every extremity. The epicenter of his pain was positioned right above his eye, every awful feeling radiating out from that focused point. His head spun, rushing through empty thoughts faster than he could process their meaninglessness. The pain meant something; the weight meant something; this terrible, hurried static in his head meant something, but he could not place his finger on it. He was equal parts incoherent and consumed by his blank, dark surroundings and, had he possessed the bodily control to do so, he may have succumbed to nausea.

Move. Get away. You can’t stay here. You’re not safe. They’re not safe. You need to protect them. It’s too late.

15. Keepsakes Ch 3, Yogar Lyste/Kassius Konstantine

Minister Maketh Tua had died.

The news was laid upon him without ceremony or compassion, so he hardly had the bearings to comprehend it before the topic switched over. He could hardly ask for the information to be repeated-- no, he wouldn’t have a leg to stand on, seeing as he shouldn’t have been eavesdropping on a report between an ISB agent and a superior officer. Nevertheless, even if he weren’t intruding in such an unprofessional manner, his voice was nowhere to be found. Blood rushed from his cheeks, forgetting his limbs and turning him into an ashen grey statue as daunting, echoing thoughts boomed in his head.

16. A Quiet Night, Kurogiri/Atsuhiro Sako

Kurogiri hadn’t known quiet in over a decade. Ever since taking young Tomura Shigaraki under his wing, peace had become a foreign concept to the warp villain. If his hair could show from behind his smoke, each grey hair would tell the story of another late night where sleep just wasn’t an option; another close call that had him stitching up open wounds; another task placed on Shigaraki’s shoulders that he was still far too inexperienced to execute properly of which he often took the brunt of the consequences.

17. Same, Daniel/David or Daniel & David

“ This is for your own good. You’ll understand later.”

18. The Dark Knights, Bruce Wayne/Jeremiah Valeska

Killing Jerome Valeska the second time around felt too easy. The man had clawed and ripped his way out of hell, gasping through waves of shed blood to feed his madness, his entire being a reflection of everything perverse and rotten in the human soul. To be felled by a proverbial “fall from grace” was insulting.

19. Different, Jerome Valeska & Jeremiah Valeska, Jerome Valeska & Paul Cicero

Jeremiah was nothing like Jerome.

Even before they could speak, the boys couldn’t have been more different. Jeremiah would take the cheap, plastic blocks and pile them; Jerome would wait for the perfect moment to strike and knock them down. He would laugh; Jeremiah would not.

20. How to Lie to Yourself, Janus “Deceit” Sanders

Start with something simple.

Look in the mirror and hold your own gaze. Don’t break eye contact-- that’s a sign of weakness, even to yourself.

So, it looks like I definitely do have a pattern when it comes to opening lines. Out of these, I have to say that my favorite is either Unstoppable Force’s or Flawless’s line(s).

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hopelesshawks · 4 years

Text

Physical Fatality Part 9- Cruelty

18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader

Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.

If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf

This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni

Warnings for alcoholism

Masterlist

“No Hawks.”

“Why won’t you at least let me explain?”

“Because I suspect your explanation for why you ripped my heart out despite, supposedly, still being in love with me is going to piss me the fuck off and we have a red carpet to walk in a few minutes.”

“You always have an excuse for why we can’t talk. We never see each other at work anymore-“

“Hmm, I wonder why? It’s almost like someone’s bullshit got me kicked off the task force.”

“Not my point. I would talk to you at your place but your roommate stops me every time!”

“I always did like Mina.”

“Jesus you’re fucking impossible. I just want to make things right!”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have fucked them up in the first place.”

“I can’t change the past.”

“And I can’t deal with my feelings for you on top of trying to salvage my fucking career.”

“So you admit there are still feelings?”

“How is that your takeaway from that sentence?”

It’s been about three days since the article about you and Hawks dropped. You are about four minutes from a heart attack and you think Hawks may be a maniac but he doesn’t know it. Your ride to another bullshit HPSC event stops and your door is opened to reveal a red carpet and a hoard of paparazzi awaiting your arrival. You and Hawks had just been fighting in your limousine but they don’t know. They can never know. So Hawks steps out and carefully smooths out his designer suit before reaching a hand down to help you out of the car. You take his hand and gracefully step out in your equally designer shoes and dress. You smile at each other as if your love is pure and uncomplicated. You smile at the paparazzi as if they aren’t the bane of your existence. You smile as you make your way into the event as if you aren’t literally dreading it. It honestly makes you feel nauseous. But this is the reality of modern day hero work. It’s as much about image and politics as it is about saving people, no matter how ridiculous you think that is.

You wish Bakugo and Midoriya were here so you’d at least have some uncomplicated friendly faces but they’re probably off doing actual hero work. You get the honor of shaking the hands of wealthy donors to the HPSC and interacting with heroes you’d probably recognize if you hadn’t been black out drunk at the last ranking ceremony. “I’ll grab us drinks,” Hawks sighs in a rare break the two of you have between meeting people. “I think that’s the first smart thing you’ve said all night,” you reply. He resists the temptation to roll his eyes as he tells you he’ll be right back and walks towards the bar. He isn’t gone long before you hear a deep voice behind you say, “I heard you were removed from the task force.” It takes everything in you not to launch Endeavor through the window as you turn to face him. “Unfortunately yes. All Might felt it was unwise for me to be on a task force with someone I was romantically involved with,” you reply as professionally as possible considering you’re still trying to figure out if the satisfaction of yeeting this prick out the window would be worth getting fired. “So I guess your little plan backfired on you then,” Endeavor says smugly. “My little plan?” “Your plan to use Hawks to climb the hero charts and gain insight into my agency.” You stare at the man in front of you and blink at him a few times. “I’m sorry can you just say that one more time?” you ask dumbfounded. This throws Endeavor off for a moment but then he clears his throat and repeats, “Your plan to use Hawks to-“ “Ok yea no that’s what I thought you said,” you say cutting him off. “I know this may be hard for you to hear but uhm, not everything is about you,” you sigh exasperatedly. “I am aware but-“ “No, no. Shut the fuck up, no but’s. There was no plan. I was just dumb enough to fall in love with your stupid ass Golden boy. Some of us are actually content just saving people regardless of some dumb, arbitrary ranking.” “Oh.” A pause. “What the fuck do you mean oh?” “I don’t owe you an explanation and you should watch how you talk to me.” “No one is paying attention to us right now, I’m not watching shit.” “Regardless you risk causing a scene.” “Oh my god, did you share your little theory with Hawks?” you press, and the sheepish look on his face is answer enough but then Hawks returns to your side, two drinks in hand, looking between you and Endeavor curiously. “Am I interrupting something?” Hawks asks with a raised eyebrow. “Babe could we talk privately for a moment?” you ask with a saccharine tone. “Uhh, sure,” Hawks replies. Next thing he knows you’re tugging him away from Endeavor and out of the banquet hall.

It pains him to realize how like and unlike this is to the first time the two of you met. The sly look Kamui Woods gives him as the two of you pass by makes him a little nauseous in all honesty. Probably because if he hadn’t fucked up so royally then maybe the two of you would be sneaking away for the reason the other man thinks right now. Instead he’s sure he’s about to get an earful because of whatever Endeavor had said to you. Eventually you tug him into a supply closet, using your quirk to find and flick on the light switch before closing the two of you into the tight space. He realizes it’s the first time you’ve been this close to him without a camera or another person nearby. “Hawks,” you start and and it hurts. It hurts every time you use his hero name when the two of you are alone. He misses the way his real name sounded on your tongue. He misses the fondness you used to have in your tone when you used it. He misses the way you’d sometimes shorten it to ‘Kei’. He misses it so much so that without thinking he interrupts you to say “Don’t call me that when we’re alone.” You ignore the interruption and that hurts too. “Did you break up with me because Endeavor told you I was just using you?” you ask him and all the air rushes out of his lungs. Finally you knew what he’d been trying to tell you for the past few days since everything went to shit. “Yes, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I never stopped loving you (y/n) but I got scared and I’m so sorry. I never should have listened to him,” Hawks sighs and it feels like a weight off to finally tell you. “So it wasn’t that you didn’t love me,” you start and Hawks feels his broken heart starting to put itself back together, “it was just that you didn’t love me enough to have faith in me.”

Wait, what?

No. No, no, no this isn’t how it’s supposed to go. Everything was supposed to get better once you found out the truth behind the break up. So why, then, do you look so distraught? “No, baby, no that’s not it,” he tries to assure you but you shake your head. “Isn’t it? You love me but not enough to hear out my side of the story before you dumped me. You love me but not enough to ignore the words of a man I’ve never had a full conversation with prior to today,” you point out. “I was just scared. He threatened my career and I just-“ “Just what? Hawks I can count on one hand the number of people who have genuinely had faith in me. That makes it really important to me. I thought I could count you as one of them.” “Hey, that’s not fair. I have faith in you but if you were in my shoes you would’ve made the same decision.” “And what shoes were those exactly?” “The shoes of someone hearing a man they’ve known and trusted for years tell them all the reasons why they’re an idiot to trust the woman they just met a few months prior.” “I didn’t realize I gave so many reasons for you not to trust me.” “That’s not what I meant and you know it. As dumb as I think the rivalry is it’s no secret that the lower ranks in both our agencies still believe in it and up until a year ago that was you.” “You could’ve asked.” “Maybe so but he also pointed out that there’s no way you couldn’t have fucking known who I was considering I’m the only hero with bright red fucking wings on my back,” Hawks grits out and as if on cue his wings are flaring and puffing up in the small space as if to emphasize his point. “Oh....” you trail off.

You have to admit he has a point on the last one. Sure, he could’ve asked. But Hawks never knew how problematic your drinking habits could be. Once the two of you got together you started getting sober so you hadn’t seen a reason to mention it. If he had asked you directly you don’t know that you would’ve been able to tell him the truth and that would’ve seemed to confirm Endeavor’s theory. “Yea, ‘oh’,” Hawks says and you almost wish you could hear more resentment in his tone instead of resignation because you are still so, so angry with him but you’re starting to see his side now and you hate it. At least if he resented you there wouldn’t be as much guilt for the blind rage you’d channeled his way. “That’s the one piece I still can’t make fit to be honest. Why’d you pretend not to recognize me?” he asks and if you didn’t still love him you’d probably give a half assed lie and be done with it. But you do, and he sounds so fucking heartbroken that you decide he at least deserves the truth. “I never gave a shit about the hero rankings. Who cares if you’re number 1 or number 50 as long as you’re saving people, y’know? So I never watched the ranking ceremony on tv and the one year I went in person I got black out drunk beforehand because Monoma was finally in the top 10 and he was being absolutely unbearable and I knew he’d continue to be for the rest of the night. So I drank and now I don’t remember any of it. I literally don’t know what any hero I haven’t directly worked with looks like. I know the names but couldn’t match them to faces for the life of me. Even with your ‘bright red fucking wings’. Bakugo actually gave me shit for it when I realized who you are,” you explain. “Would you have told me all that if I had asked you then?” he asks. “Probably not,” you admit. The kiss afterwards is unexpected but not unwelcome.

Hawks doesn’t consciously decide to kiss you. It’s just one moment you’re admitting you may not have been able to dispel his concerns and the next he’s reaching for you. He doesn’t regret it though. The moment your lips touch it’s like a missing piece of him has slotted back into place. It quickly grows heated and his hands find their way to your waist to reel you in closer and closer until there’s hardly any space between the two of you. He’s missed this so much it’s been a physical ache and he pours every bit of that pain and regret and heartache and love and hope, such agonizingly desperate hope, into the kiss, praying it will convey even a fraction of what he’s been feeling the past few days. Praying that maybe he can reach you and the two of you can go back to the bliss you enjoyed before he let Endeavor get in his head and ruin things. But then he feels wetness on his cheeks and when he pulls back to look at you he realizes you’re crying. “Why are you crying Love?” he asks as he reaches both hands up to cup your face and wipe the tears away. “Because if you feel even a fraction of what I feel when I kiss you, I don’t know how you could ever think it was fake,” you confess and it shatters his heart all over again. “(Y/n), I-“ “I wanna go home.” “Ok, I’ll fly us back to mine and we can-“ “No Hawks. My home. My apartment. I need... I need time.” “Ok.”

The two of you sneak out of the event. The tabloids will likely be flooded with headlines about how you and Hawks are so madly in love you had to sneak away for a supply closet tryst only to realize that wasn’t enough and decide to just bail on the event entirely. They’ll be wrong, of course, but it’s better they run that than the truth. Neither you nor Hawks says a word as he flies you to your apartment. Only once you’re standing in your open doorway does Hawks pipe up. “I have to leave tomorrow for a mission,” he says. “Task force?” you ask, although you’re not sure if you want to know the answer. “Yea. Task force,” he confirms. “Oh.” “Yea.” “Ok. How long will you be gone?” “I don’t know but at least a week.” “So I get a week’s break from the circus,” you say and part of you knows it’s a cruel thing to say, but another part of you says it’s only cruel if he actually cares for you as much as he claims to. “Yea, I guess so,” he says and he sounds so goddamn sad. You’re hurting him. You’re hurting him and you wish you could make yourself stop but you can’t. “Goodnight Hawks,” you sigh and then you close the door before he can respond. He stands staring at the closed door for a long while. You can tell by the shadow underneath the door. Eventually though he sighs and you hear him walk away with heavy, defeated steps.

Which is crueler: Him hurting you unintentionally because he never gave you the chance to explain? Or you intentionally breaking his heart the way he broke yours? You suspect you won’t like the answer so you go to the kitchen to grab a drink and try and forget you even posed the question in the first place.

You told Hawks his time away would be a break. In actuality it was agony. You went to work and then you went home. Bakugo and Midoriya were getting worried but work kept them busy enough you could avoid their questions and their concern and their judgment for the most part. “Why don’t you just talk to him?” Midoriya had asked one day. “She doesn’t owe him shit,” Bakugo had scoffed. “Maybe not,” Midoriya had acknowledged before turning back to you to say “but that doesn’t change the fact that the two of you love each other and you’re the one who decided to fake the relationship to the press. Even if you guys don’t start a real relationship again the least you could do is make sure you aren’t actively making each other miserable.” “I’ll think about it,” you had replied, but you decidedly didn’t think about it.

It’s been two weeks now since Hawks went away. You miss him. You wander into your kitchen, grab a bottle of Cabernet, open it, and are turning to lock yourself in your room when you nearly bump into an unfamiliar man with blonde hair with a single, lightning shaped black streak. “Who the fuck are you?” you ask once you’ve recovered. The man looks shaken by the question and a tad bit intimidated. “I’m, uh, Denki. Your new roommate? Mina introduced us the other day. You said hi, told me not to let Hawks in if he shows up, and then locked yourself in your room,” he explains sheepishly. You have zero recollection of this. You were probably drunk when it happened. “Oh... Well I’m (y/n) in case I forgot to mention it before,” you awkwardly introduce yourself before stepping around him. “See you around I guess,” you call over your shoulder before going back to your room and locking the door behind you.

You’re about halfway through the bottle of wine when it hits you what a sad sight this is. You’re wasting a perfectly good Saturday sitting at home alone and drinking by yourself in your locked room. The press would have a field day if they knew. You go to take another swig from the bottle, you’re far too sober to deal with everything you’re feeling right now, when you suddenly hear the sound of your lock shifting. You dismiss it at first as Mina trying the door to come check on you, but then it suddenly swings open to reveal Denki kneeling on the ground with a bobby pin looking accomplished and a nervous but determined looking Hawks standing behind him. “I thought I told you not to let him in,” you find yourself saying as you try to process what’s happening. Denki shrugs. “Seemed like you two could use a good chat,” he says before walking away. Hawks steps into the room and closes the door back behind him. “We need to talk. For real this time. I just.... Please give me a chance to explain or, or, to just prove to you that my feelings are real or something. Anything. Please,” he begs. Hawks has always been able to play you like a violin, hitting just the right notes to get your stubborn ass to bend, even if he doesn’t seem to realize it. A voice in the back of your head reminds you it’s doubtful he realizes considering all you’ve done is treat him cruelly since that tabloid came out. He deserves some of your ire. He doesn’t deserve all of it. “Don’t you think this is a conversation that should be had sober?” you ask, raising the half empty bottle of Cabernet for emphasis. “You just got off work a little while ago which means that’s the only bottle you’ve been working on. We both know it takes way more than half a bottle of wine to get you drunk,” he points out and he’s got you there. You’re out of excuses and honestly he probably does deserve a conversation. After all, Midoriya wasn’t wrong. You had no good reason to continue to deny Hawks at this point.

“Fine, let’s talk.”

Author’s Note: THIS HURT ME TO WRITE BUT WE OUT HERE. Hawks and (y/n)’s relationship is so complicated at this point and it’s interesting to write but it’s also hard and painful to write because you want them to be happy and in love but there is so much outside of them now that is involved in their relationship. Anyway suffer with me ig 🥲❤️

Taglist [open]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff @iikillerkitteh @pixelwisp @pokesosa @lildockel @bread0nhead

#hopelesspf #hawks #wing hero hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n

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maybeimamuppet · 3 years

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someone gets hurt

“Janis! Janis!” Cady calls, rushing up to her at the end of the school day.

“Babe, you good?” Janis asks worriedly as her girlfriend barrels into her.

Cady nods rapidly. “Yes! Principal Duvall just told me I’m the valedictorian!”

Janis gasps, wrapping her in a hug. “You are? Oh my god, baby! That’s great! I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” Cady giggles from in her embrace. “Are you staying to paint today?”

“Yeah, you want to come?” Janis asks, plotting in her head. Cady has worked so hard this year, she deserves to be valedictorian, arbitrary as the title is. Janis should do something.

“Always,” Cady grins, leaning up for a kiss and taking her hand to lead them to the art rooms. “How is Damian?”

“He’s fine, it’s just a sprain. Texted me earlier high off his ass on painkillers though, that was funny,” Janis chuckles. “Said there was a dragon in his mashed potatoes.”

“Janis! Don’t laugh at him, you know he has a phobia of broken bones. He’s lucky it was just a sprain. Poor guy,” Cady chides.

“He fell down the stairs! I’m allowed to laugh,” Janis defends.

They’d decided to have lunch in the auditorium today, just for fun. Damian had finished eating early and showed off some complicated choreography from his college audition cuts. He’d absolutely nailed them, but during his bows and basking in the applause of his friends, had fallen down the stairs and sprained his foot. He’d fallen into a panic attack, thinking he had broken it, and was taken to the hospital almost immediately.

“He’s your best friend! I’m gonna tell him you laughed,” Cady threatens.

Janis snorts. “You little narc. Go ahead, he laughed at me when I broke my tailbone when we went roller skating.”

“Hmph. Who are you texting?”

Janis had pulled out her phone to text Regina. She loves throwing parties and giving gifts, she might have some ideas for something Janis could do to surprise Cady.

“Uh, my mom. I actually can’t stay today, uhm... Jules is... sick. I have to go help my mom take care of her,” Janis lies through her teeth.

“Oh. Okay. Do you need me to get her anything?” Cady asks, miraculously not having noticed. She struggles reading people sometimes.

“No, don’t worry about it, baby. It’s just a cold, but she gets really whiny and stuff whenever she’s sick,” Janis explains. That’s true, at least.

“Poor thing. Tell her I hope she feels better soon. I’m going to go visit Damian,” Cady says, popping up on her tippy toes to kiss her goodbye.

“Okay, baby. Tell him I said hi,” Janis responds, kissing her back. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Good luck,” Cady says back.

“Thanks,” Janis chuckles.

————-

“Hi, Dame,” Cady says sadly as she knocks on the door of his hospital room.

“Hey, Cads!” Damian says.

Cady chuckles as she comes to sit by his bed. “You sound better.”

“I got, like, hella painkillers a while ago. Went on some fun daydreams,” Damian replies. “Not high anymore though.”

“Good, I don’t know if I could handle you all hopped up,” Cady giggles. “Janis said you texted her something about a dragon in your mashed potatoes while she was in math class.”

“I did? Oh god, she’s never gonna let me live that down,” Damian sighs. “Oh well.”

“I’ll make her go easy on you,” Cady says confidently, pulling out an activity book she had made during study hall. “I made this for you. I know it’s a little childish, but I figured you might want something to do.”

“Aww! Thanks, Caddy. Ooh, connect the dots,” Damian responds as he flips through it. “What’s the matter?”

Cady turns from where she’s standing, frowning as she looks out the window. His view goes across the street, looking over a coffee shop. Janis lied? She’s in the shop, sitting with... Regina George. Hm. They’re laughing at something.

“Huh? Oh, nothing, don’t worry about it,” Cady says through grit teeth, coming back to his side and trying to hide her seething jealousy. He doesn’t need that right now. “So, how long are you stuck in here?”

“I get out tonight, once they’re totally sure I’m not reacting to anything they’ve given me,” Damian replies. “I’m not going to be in school for about a week, though. I’m not supposed to walk even with crutches until then.”

“You poor thing,” Cady responds as she rolls her shoulders to get rid of the tension. “I’ll visit you as much as I can, but I just got a huge English project that’s gonna take me a while.”

Damian pats her hand comfortingly. “I get it, Cads, don’t worry about it. I have this cool book to work on.”

Cady chuckles. “I’ll send other people to come keep you company on the days I can’t. And you have Pippa in the meantime.”

Damian laughs outright at that. His french bulldog doesn’t make a great caregiver. “Thanks, little slice.”

“Anytime.”

—————

“So how was Julie?” Cady asks during her daily morning meet-up with Janis on Monday. She wants to hear what Janis has to say, now that she knows she lied.

Janis doesn’t even look up from her phone, tapping away texts to... someone. Probably Regina. “Hm? Oh, she was fine, thanks. Just needed a rest. How was Damian?”

“He was fine,” Cady huffs. Janis had lied again. Janis hums noncommittally. “He went on a quest to fight dragons with a fairy princess and took me. I was an elf. You should really come next time. He’s a wizard, you know. I’m surprised you didn’t notice before. The doctor even had an enchanted sword.”

“Good for him,” Janis replies, having taken in nothing. The bell rings then, making them both jump. “Oh shit. Have a good day, baby. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Cady responds, blinking in surprise at the quick kiss pressed to her lips before Janis runs to class. What the hell is going on with her?

Janis continues acting oddly into the next day. She’s not at lunch on Tuesday, and neither is Regina. Cady plops her tray of meatloaf on the table and sits down with a huff, startling Gretchen and Karen.

“You okay, Cady?” Gretchen asks worriedly. “You look tense.”

Cady stabs her meatloaf so hard that a few of the tines snap off her plastic fork. “Peachy. Has Regina told you guys anything? About what she’s been up to lately? Janis has been acting so weird, and I think Regina is part of it.”

“Um, no,” Karen lies. Regina had told them the plan to surprise Cady, so they actually knew everything. They had been sworn to secrecy.

“Yeah, we don’t know anything,” Gretchen piggybacks. “How has Janis been acting weird?”

“She... she lied to me,” Cady answers, realizing this may be more serious than she had originally thought. “I got chosen as valedictorian, I thought maybe we could go have dinner or something to celebrate after we visited Damian, but she said her sister was sick. But she wasn’t, Janis was in the coffee shop with Regina.”

“With Regina? Are you sure?” Karen responds. “Regina was with us Friday. And they still, like, totally aren’t friends. X emoji.”

“It was definitely Janis, at least,” Cady says sadly. “I guess it might not have been Regina. But how many other platinum blondes that wear full designer outfits would Janis know? Maybe it was before you guys hung out.”

“That is totally strange,” Gretchen responds, anxious about lying. She tries to change the subject quickly. “Has Janis done anything else weird?”

Cady takes the bait. “She wouldn’t stop texting yesterday, or this morning. I don’t know who she was talking to, but she didn’t even listen to me. I made up some story about Damian and I fighting dragons and she just said ‘good for him’.”

“Dragons? That’s so fetch,” Karen responds. “I want to meet a dragon. It’s one of my life goals, sunrise emoji.”

“Karen, sweetie, no. She said she made it up, remember? Dragons aren’t real,” Gretchen says quietly, squeezing her hand.

“That’s not fetch,” Karen huffs, going quiet.

“I know, sweetie. Anyway, I wouldn’t worry too much, Cady,” Gretchen says as she tries to comfort her girlfriend. “Janis is, like, head over heels for you. It’ll work out.”

“It better,” Cady grumbles. “Oh, hey, can you guys pop in to see Damian after school? Just for a little while, make sure he’s okay? I told him I’d have people drop by on days I couldn’t go see him.”

“Why can’t you go?” Gretchen asks, genuinely curious.

“I got this English project Friday, I have to work on it. I’m supposed to pick a career I want in the future and make a presentation about it, and it has to be five minutes long! I don’t even know what I want to do for a job,” Cady sighs.

“You can do it, Cady, you’re super smart,” Karen pipes up again. “Notebook emoji. But, like, shrug emoji, would Damian even want to see us?”

“Why wouldn’t he want to see you? He really likes you guys now. You’re not mean to him or Janis anymore, he doesn’t have anything against you guys anymore,” Cady says sadly. “You guys don’t have to go if you don’t want to, but he’d love to see you. You’re his friends.”

Of course we’ll go, we don’t have anything going on,” Gretchen responds. They need to fill him in on the plan, anyway.

“Oh, thank you,” Cady breathes with relief. “I owe you one.”

“It’s fine, Cady. Good luck with your project,” Gretchen says.

“Ugh,” Cady grumbles at the reminder, slamming her head into the table.

————-

By Wednesday afternoon, Cady is at her wits end. She hasn’t slept in two days researching for her project, and Janis still won’t pay attention to her. She’d gotten confirmation that it had been Regina with Janis at the coffee shop, so Gretchen and Karen had also lied to her face.

She heads to the art rooms after school to watch Janis paint, needing a break from her own thoughts. Even if she is a bit angry with Janis. Maybe this will patch things up.

Cady loves watching Janis paint. She loves the cute way her brow furrows and her tongue pokes out to the side whenever she tries to focus, the way every stroke of the brush seems to have a purpose. Janis can create gorgeous scenes just from her mind, as if the brush in her hand is simply an extension of her imagination. Cady loves watching a few simple sketches or swipes of her paintbrush turn to incredible works of art.

Cady’s tried to paint with her a few times, only succeeding in creating a blotchy mess of colors and a few vague shapes, but Janis always cheered her on and pointed out the things she had done well. Cady decided she likes watching Janis paint more than doing it herself, but they have painting mini-dates from time to time that they both enjoy immensely.

She opens the door quietly when she finally reaches the classroom, in hopes of surprising her girlfriend. She winds up getting the surprise herself, finding none other than Regina talking to Janis. Again. Regina is sitting haughtily on the counter, facing Cady but not looking at her. There’s a strangely excited glint in her eyes. Janis is leaning against a desk facing Regina, so her back is to Cady.

They’re awfully close together, Cady thinks as her face falls and her chest burns with envy. She thanks her lucky stars they haven’t spotted her yet, allowing her to eavesdrop for a second. She tries desperately to tamp down the voice growling ‘get away from my girlfriend’ in her head. There has to be some explanation.

Cady can’t quite pick up most of their conversation, but she does hear Regina say, “Cady’s not going to find out, Janis,” and lean closer.

That’s all she needs to hear. She feels herself let out a harsh sob, turning on her heel and running from the room. Janis whirls around just before the door slams shut behind her. “Caddy! Shit,” she calls as she breaks into a sprint after her. “Baby, please wait, let me explain!”

“What the fuck is there to explain, Janis?!” Cady yells at her, walking backwards for a second. “Just leave me alone. Go to her, I hope she makes you happy.” And with that, she turns and continues running.

“Baby, please,” Janis begs, reaching for her. Cady doesn’t turn back around.

Cady winds up running the whole mile back to her house without noticing, ignoring the worried calls of her parents as she barrels up the stairs to her bedroom, throwing her backpack off and burrowing under her covers. Her chest is starting to hurt with how hard she’s sobbing. Maybe she’s feeling her heart breaking.

How could I be so stupid with love again? Of course Janis would pick Regina over me. Regina has every American standard of beauty down pat, and a good personality now. What do I have?

She hears her phone pinging frantically, looking to see texts flooding in from Janis and Regina, both begging her to let Janis explain. She flips it to silent after sending her parents a text, letting them know to turn Janis away should she turn up at any point.

How could they do this to me? I understand why Janis chose her, but how could she be so cruel? Regina is supposed to be nicer now, how could she do this? It’s fucking Aaron all over again. I caught feelings for Janis and she snatched her away. And Janis... did she ever love me? How could she do this?

She rolls onto her side and soaks her pillow in tears, deciding she gets the decision to swear off of dating now.

Janis loses Cady as she reaches the main doors, panting with exertion. She turns to head back to the classroom to grab her bag.

“Janis, I’m so sorry, I had no idea she was there or I wouldn’t have phrased it like that,” Regina bursts out as soon as she enters, looking near tears.

“Reg, it... it’ll be fine. It has to be. I’ll go find her and try to explain again, I guess. Better to ruin the surprise than have her think I’m cheating on her,” Janis says in response, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and moving quickly back towards the door.

Regina sighs heavily. “Okay, good luck. I’ll text her too. God, she looked so... broken.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Reggie. Later,” Janis calls over her shoulder, hurrying towards the entrance to the building.

She pulls her phone from her pocket as she walks to Cady’s house, figuring that must be where she’s gone.

Jellybean: caddy that wasn’t what it looked like i promise

Jellybean: are you okay??

Jellybean: please let me explain

Jellybean: caddy you know me you know i wouldn’t do that to you please

Jellybean: baby??

Cady hasn’t answered or even read any of her messages by the time Janis is knocking on the door.

“Cady says she doesn’t want to see you,” Cady’s mother says harshly, protective of her cub.

“Mrs. Heron, please, I need to explain. She didn’t see what she thought she did,” Janis begs.

Mrs. Heron sighs. “Janis, I want to believe you, but Cady has been hurt by this Regina girl before. You need to leave, give her time. I’ll tell her you came by.”

She closes the door before Janis can get another word out. Give her time, Janis thinks as she walks to Damian’s house next, seething with anger.

Cady’s father wakes her up just before dinner, softly stroking her hair. She must have cried herself to sleep.

“Janis came by,” he says carefully. “Your mother sent her away like you asked.”

Cady immediately bursts into tears at the mention of her now ex-girlfriend. “I don’t wanna see her again. I want to switch schools.”

“Shh, binti. You’re a month away from graduation, you’re not switching schools. But you can stay home tomorrow. What happened?”

Cady cries harder. “Janis was-was talking to Regina in the art room and-and they were so close together and then Janis said something and R-Regina said that-that I wouldn’t find out about it,” she wails into his shoulder.

“Shh, ndege wangu mdogo wa wimbo. Did you hear what it was you wouldn’t find out about?” Her father hushes.

“She’s cheating on me! With Regina,” Cady sobs. “What else could it be?”

“Did you hear them say that? Or see them do anything?”

“No,” she admits shyly.

“Then you don’t know. You shouldn’t jump to conclusions, you’re going to jump into your grave one of these times,” her father chides gently. “You don’t have to today, or even anytime soon, but you should hear Janis out at some point, let her explain.”

“Fine,” Cady sniffs. “But what is she hiding? Janis tells me everything.”

“That I don’t know, binti. You take some time to think. I’ll bring up your dinner.” And with a forehead kiss, her father leaves her alone.

“Whoa whoa whoa, what?” Damian asks hastily, interrupting Janis. “Start again and slow down.”

“Caddy found me talking to Regina and now she thinks I’m cheating. She said she didn’t want to see me and won’t even read my texts,” she growls.

“Wow. That’s... out of character for her,” Damian says in shock.

“I know! I don’t know what to do, she won’t let me explain anything,” Janis huffs, terrified she might lose her girlfriend over something so stupid. “And now I’m wondering what the hell she really thinks of me. If she can’t trust me enough to know I would never cheat on her, especially with Regina fucking George, then should we even be together?”

“That’s a fair point, I guess,” Damian admits. “But that really doesn’t sound like Caddy. Something else has to be going on.”

Janis sighs, trying to get herself back under control. She can’t even figure out why she’s so angry. “Can you talk to her?”

Damian looks meaningfully at his wounded foot, but eventually can’t resist the urge to help his platonic soulmate. “I can try, I guess. Maybe convince her to hear you out. But I can’t explain what happened or get her to forgive you. You have to do that.”

“Fine,” Janis huffs. “Just make sure she’s okay.”

“She will be, Jan, don’t worry. I’ll text her, see if she can come over tomorrow,” Damian comforts.

“Thanks, D.”

————-

Cady warily checks her phone when she wakes up the next morning, surprised when she sees her most recent text is from Damian.

Big Slice: Do you wanna come hang out with me after school today?? Pippa is not performing her caregiver duties well enough

She sighs. It’s almost definitely a trap, Damian is Janis’ best friend. That thought gives her pause. If she and Janis break up for good, will she lose her friendship with Damian? And since Regina is involved, will Gretchen and Karen stop being her friends, too? If she doesn’t go talk to Damian, she might go back to being totally alone for the third time in two years.

Little Slice: Yeah, I’ll come. I’ll be over around noon. My parents made me take a mental health day.

Big Slice: 📷

Little Slice: Wait, Janis won’t be there, will she?

Big Slice: Nope just us :) She went to school and has to babysit Juju after

Little Slice: Good.

Cady hauls herself out of bed with a great deal of effort, surprised to see it’s already eleven. She trudges down the stairs still in her pajamas for breakfast, staring out the window at absolutely nothing as she munches on her cereal.

Climbing back up the stairs feels like she’s climbing Kilimanjaro again, but she manages and resists the urge to flop back into bed. She doesn’t even have the energy to brush her hair, tying it up into a knot and spraying a little extra perfume on in place of a shower.

She grabs her phone after she tugs on a sweatshirt and some leggings, texting her dad to tell him she’s going to see Damian.

Cady perks up a little on her walk over, the sun giving her some energy. She has a spare key, so lets herself into Damian’s house and heads to his bedroom.

“Hey, Cads, how are you?” Damian asks when he turns to look at her. Janis clearly told him everything, but he’s pretending not to know.

“Fine,” Cady whispers. She can feel tears burning in her eyes and knows if she tries to speak she’ll start crying. Damian doesn’t need her problems on top of his own and Janis’.

“No, you’re not,” Damian says, reaching for her. “Come tell me your troubles.”

“You have your own problems, you don’t need to hear mine,” Cady mumbles.

“Bitch, please, I live for drama. I’ve been holed up here for almost a week, give me something to do,” Damian begs.

Cady gives in to the cuddling urge, sliding in beside him and resting her head on his shoulder. She heaves a sigh to try and keep the tears at bay, to no avail.

“Did Janis tell you?” She says, choking out a sob immediately after.

Damian sits up to hold her better. “Yes, but I want to hear your side of things too.”

Cady sobs harder. “She was-was talking to-to-to Regina in the art room, and R-Regina looked... excited about something and then Janis said something to h-her and Regina said that-that I wouldn’t find out about it.”

“So what do you think they meant by that?” Damian hums sadly, rubbing her back.

“Are they t-together? Is she cheat-cheating on me?” Cady whimpers.

“Let’s work through this together, hm? You remember how Janis acted when she had a crush on you, yeah?” Damian asks, continuing when she nods. “Disaster lesbian. Has she been acting like that around Regina?”

“No,” Cady sniffles. “But-but she could be meeting her when I don’t know about it, and hiding it when-when I’m around.”

“That’s another thing. Has Janis been lying to you about where she is, or acting suspicious?” Damian asks comfortingly.

Cady is about to say no before she remembers Friday. “Yeah,” she wails. “On-on Friday, she said Juliana was sick... b-but when I was at the ho-hospital with you she w-went to that coffee sh-shop with Regina.”

“Okay, so we have one suspicious thing, I’ll admit that is weird,” Damian says, scolding Janis internally. “Has she done anything else?”

Cady sniffles as she pauses to think. “She won’t l-listen to me any-anymore. She spent all day Monday and Tuesday t-tex-texting somebody and didn’t hear anything I said, and then-then she missed lunch. She did-did yesterday, t-too.”

“That’s some bullshit,” Damian calls. “She shouldn’t be doing that, I’ll talk to her about that. Okay, so a few things. Back to our checklist. Has Janis stopped saying things like ‘I love you’ or giving you kisses and cuddles and stuff?”

“No,” Cady sobs. She misses that, so much. And it’s only been a day. “She hasn’t.”

“Has Janis ever willingly wanted to spend a long amount of time with Regina? In the entire time you’ve known them? Even now that Reggie is a decent human?” Damian asks, looking at her meaningfully.

“No,” Cady admits. “Not unless one of us is around.”

“So does it make sense for them to be together?”

“No,” she sniffles. “But what if she’s with somebody else?”

“Who would she be with?” He asks.

Cady stops to think. The only other lesbian Janis knows well is Sonja Acquino, and she had gotten a girlfriend over winter break. Girls at school still tended to avoid Janis. Unless she met someone outside of school, there’s nobody she could possibly be with. Cady spends most of her time outside of school with Janis, and Janis would’ve told her if she had met a fellow gay.

Cady processes this realization and bursts into sobs anew. “God, I’m so stupid. Is Janis mad at me?”

“No, little slice, no. Janis has been acting weird, you had every right to be suspicious. Janis isn’t mad, either. She’s frustrated that you won’t talk to her, and she’s upset that you think she would do something like that. But I think once you both take a couple days to process and regroup, you should hear her out and make her hear you out, and then you’ll be fine. You two are so fucking grossly in love, you’re gonna make it through this.”

“Thank you,” Cady sniffs. “For listening. I would’ve understood if you took her side. You’re such a good friend.”

“Thanks, Cads,” Damian chuckles. “I try. But really, I’m friends with both of you; I’m talking to you because I want to. You both have shit happening that you’re not telling the other one about; once you clear the air there won’t even be sides to this. And besides, you’re Pippa’s favorite auntie. We can’t let you get away.”

Cady gives a watery chuckle at that, wiping the tears from under her eyes. “God, I’m such a mess.”

“Bitch, you’re fine. Until, like, five minutes ago you thought you had your second major heartbreak in two years,” Damian chastises gently. “We have ice cream in the freezer, can you go get it for us please?”

“Yes,” Cady says, kissing his cheek and grabbing a tissue from the box on his dresser. “I’ll be right back.”

She hears the clacking of small claws following her down the hallway to the kitchen, turning to see the sweet little squished face of Damian’s french bulldog.

“Hi Pip,” she says in her baby voice. “How are you, puppies?” Pippa wiggles excitedly when Cady picks her up, scrambling to lick the tear tracks from her cheeks. “Oh, thank you. Have you been taking good care of Damian?”

She bursts out laughing when Damian calls “No!” from his room, apparently having overheard their conversation.

“Well that can’t be right, your little face could heal any injury,” Cady says as she sets the dog down. She opens the freezer, grabbing two pints of ice cream and some spoons from the drawer before heading back to Damian.

“Pippa would be a terrible nurse,” Damian says when she comes back. “She keeps tripping me every time I try to go to the bathroom.”

Cady giggles. “She’s doing her best, be nice. Here’s your ice cream.”

“Thank youuuuu,” Damian sings. “Now, what should we watch to get your mind off of things?”

Cady crawls back into bed next to him, helping Pippa up as she stands on her hind legs to see what they’re doing. “Have you found any new bootlegs?”

“Ooh, yeah, actually. I’ve had a lot of time to look,” Damian answers, grabbing his laptop from his nightstand and a flash drive from the drawer. “I found a really good quality one of The Lion King, do you want to watch that?”

Cady’s eyes go wide as she opens her ice cream and she nods excitedly. “I’ve just been watching videos of this monkey who’s best friends with a duck on repeat. It kept making me cry harder because they’re so cute. Your plan sounds better.”

“You are the biggest dork I know, I love you dearly,” Damian responds, bringing up the right file. “Alright, time to see some puppet elephants and shit.”

Cady cuddles into his side as the video starts, with Pippa resting protectively at their feet.

“Is Janis okay?” she asks quietly after they finish.

“Yes, she’s okay. She’ll be better after you two talk, but she’s fine,” Damian responds comfortingly. “I found one of Frozen too, do you want to watch that?”

“Yeah. Thank you.”

She stays over through dinner, watching musicals and playing card games with Damian to pass the time. He makes her promise to shower and clean her inevitably messy room when she gets home, and turn her phone back on.

She keeps her promises and heads to bed, feeling much more secure in her relationships than she did a few hours prior.

————-

Janis stays home from school on Friday, having woken up even angrier than she had the day before.

Her therapist in middle school had told her to find a constructive way to deal with anger, since she had a tendency to cause either severe property damage or accidental damage to herself with her impulse decisions. Damian had had to explain her way out of trouble several times.

So, Janis had taken up yarn crafts. She would knit or cross-stitch or crochet, finding the repetitive motions soothing. Plus, a lot of the tools were quite sharp, making her feel like she had weapons.

She’s aggressively working on embroidering new designs on her jacket right around the time she’s supposed to be in school, when none other than Damian comes barreling into her room, as if he’d felt a disturbance in the force and had come to make sure she’s okay.

“Phone,” he says immediately when he sees her face and choice of activity, hobbling over on his crutches and holding out a hand for it.

“Why?” Janis grumbles but shuts it off and hands it over regardless.

“So you don’t do something on it that you’ll regret later. Internet is permanent. You wanna go throw rocks in the pond?” He asks, as if she’s a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.

“Can you do that? You’re not even supposed to be on crutches yet,” Janis asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

“You know damn well I would saw my legs off for you, I’m fine taking a little longer to heal. Plus, I got cleared by the doctor yesterday, so yes I am supposed to be on crutches yet,” he says childishly as he sticks his tongue out at her. “Are we going or not?”

“Yeah,” Janis mumbles, throwing off her covers to go get dressed.

Luckily, Damian’s unhurt foot is the one he needs to drive, so he can still do so safely. He lets Janis play her Angory Times playlist on the way there, which is just a lot of loud, shouty songs one right after another. Damian normally hates this kind of music, but Janis can see him actively trying to be supportive and let her continue.

Fortunately for him, the pond isn’t too far away, and Janis sees him breathe a sigh of relief when he shuts the car off and the noise stops. Damian grabs his crutches from the backseat and heads off, Janis stalking after him.

She bends to pick up rocks on her way, also grabbing the ones Damian points to. His are for skipping, small and flat and smooth. Hers are just for throwing, heavy ones that will make a good splash when they’re hurtled into the water.

Once their respective collections are amassed, they stand next to one another on the shore and go at it. Janis feels her anger chipping away as she chucks her rocks like baseballs into the murky water, delighting in the splashes echoing around them.

This is part of why she loves Damian so much. He knows exactly what to do to make her feel better in any possible scenario, and is perfectly content to do something as stupid as throw rocks into a creek with her in complete silence. On a sprained foot, no less.

“Nice,” she pants when Damian gets six skips in a row with one of his.

“Thanks,” Damian huffs back. “How many fish d’you think we’ve concussed so far?”

Janis laughs at that, hurtling her last rock as hard as she can. It hurts her shoulder a little, but lands almost halfway across the pond. “I don’t think fish can live in this water, honestly.”

“You’re probably right. Feeling better?” Damian asks, skipping his last stone. Four skips isn’t bad.

“Yeah. Can we get coffee?” Janis asks, trying to catch her breath.

“Yeah. Come on.”

Once Janis has her iced coffee and Damian has his latte, they find a bench to sit on and just watch the world go by for a while.

“So, are you ready to talk about why I had to take you to go chuck rocks into the pond?” Damian asks gently.

Janis sighs. “I just... I want to know what she’s thinking. I thought she trusted me, that we trusted each other. If she can’t believe that I wouldn’t do that to the point of completely cutting me off at the first slightly suspicious thing, then do we even... have a relationship?”

Damian doesn’t say anything, just takes her hand and squeezes it to encourage her to continue.

“Like... what else is going on with her? What is she not telling me? I just-I just don’t know what she needs. I’ve never felt so disconnected from her before. I’m-I’m scared.” Janis murmurs.

Damian hums sadly. “Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah,” Janis mumbles.

“I really don’t think this is happening because Cady doesn’t trust you. I think it’s happening because she doesn’t trust herself.” Damian responds. “She was a wreck when she came over yesterday, she had obviously been crying and hadn’t showered, things like that. Her hair wasn’t even brushed. When Aaron got back with Regina she got hot and did our whole revenge party thing.”

Janis takes her turn to listen, letting him continue.

“Cady grew up with lions and shit. If she thought you were cheating on her she should’ve been angry, not sad. Just based on who she is as a person. There’s something more happening.”

Janis thinks on what he’s said for a second. “Doesn’t trust herself? What do you mean? Doesn’t trust herself not to cheat on me?”

“No, no,” Damian says hastily. He pauses, trying to figure out how to word his point. “I don’t think Cady thinks she deserves you. She doesn’t trust herself to be what you want or need.”

“Am I that bad of a girlfriend? How could she think that? Why wouldn’t she tell me she was feeling like that?” Janis asks, trying to hold back the tears burning her eyes.

“Because you might have told her she was right. You and I know you would never do that, and I think she knows that too. But her anxiety about it overrode her rationality for a while. Cady has a lot going on. And no, you’re not a terrible girlfriend. You’re a pretty good one, actually. This is your first argument, it’s understandable,” Damian comforts.

“I just... I don’t want to lose her. And this is so stupid, why can’t I just-just stop being so angry?” Janis grits out.

“I think it’s fair for you to be angry, honestly. Cady didn’t mean for it to be, but this is kind of an attack on your character. She accused you of cheating,” Damian replies, wrapping and arm around her shoulders.

“I guess. Feels shitty,” Janis mumbles, leaning to rest her head on his shoulder.

“It’s meant to. But try to think of how she’s feeling, too,” Damian says as he rests his cheek on her head. “I had to explain to her why it didn’t make sense for you to cheat, and when it finally sank in the first thing she asked was if you were angry at her. For even thinking you would do that.”

That finally gets the tears from Janis, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes as she feels any lingering anger directed at Cady fade into nothing. “God, Caddy. What do I do, Damian?”

“For now, finish your coffee. She invited you to explain tomorrow, yeah?” Damian asks. Janis nods. “Okay, so tomorrow go over and... do something. I know you didn’t technically do anything wrong, but maybe apologize for... how she took it, I guess? You were acting kind of shady. Make sure she knows you would never cheat, tell her she can trust you, stuff like that. Just take everything one step at a time.”

“Okay,” Janis sniffles. “Is-was she okay?”

“Not at first, I’ll be honest,” Damian replies. “She said she had been watching videos of this monkey and duck who are best friends to try to cheer herself up, and I had to watch two bootlegs with her to even see her smile. But once we had a chat and stuff she seemed a lot more secure. Confident. She’ll probably apologize before you even get a chance.”

Janis gives a watery chuckle at the mention of the inter-species friendship videos. “That’s my girl. Thanks for checking on her.”

“Caddy said the same things. She wanted to know if you were okay, said thanks for even thinking about her.”

“I miss her so much,” Janis sniffs.

Damian takes her hand again. “And that’s how I know this is going to work out. You’re both upset with each other, and yet all both of you can think about is making up so you can be together again.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so. Y’all are the most disgustingly loving couple I know, you both look at the other like they hung the stars. You two are going to be fine.”

“Okay. I love you,” Janis responds, wiping her tears with her sleeve.

“I love you too. You wanna go play with the birds at the pet store?” Damian asks, hauling himself back onto his crutches.

“You know me too well,” Janis replies with a small grin, following him back to his car.

————-

On Saturday, Cady tells Janis she can come over to finally have a talk. Janis decides to come in through the window for dramatic effect, nearly falling out of the tree she has to climb to do so until Cady hauls her in safely.

“What the hell, Janis? It’s pouring with rain, why didn’t you come in through the door? You could’ve broken your neck,” Cady insists like a worried mother, leaving to fetch her a towel. It’s strange, not immediately pulling her in for a kiss or hug. She doesn’t like it.

“I didn’t, though, and that’s the key,” Janis says, rubbing the towel over her hair quickly. Once that’s done she gestures for Cady to sit on her bed, sitting across from her criss-cross applesauce. She takes a breath to prepare herself, but Cady speaks before she can.

“Janis, I’m so sorry. I don’t-I don’t know what I was thinking, I should’ve known you’d never do that, especially with Regina. I hadn’t slept in two days, I was so irrational,” she bursts out rapidly.

“Hey, Caddy, shh. I’m supposed to be apologizing to you. I understand how that whole thing with Regina might have looked to you, so I’m sorry for that, first of all,” Janis says. “I’m sorry I ever made you think I would do that to you. I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you. I’m sorry I ever made you feel like you’re not enough for me. I love you. I need you to know I would never even think about cheating. It’s important we trust each other with stuff like that, from now on.”

Cady nods. “I do, I know you would never do that. I trust you, it’s just... Jesus, I don’t even know,” She sighs, burying her face in her hands.

“Cads, hey. Can I touch you?” Janis asks gently, taking her hands when Cady gives a nod and squeezing them. She hates this, it feels like they’re back at square one of their relationship. Maybe they are. “What’s going on?”

“I know Regina has worked on herself, a lot, and I hate feeling like this. But she took Aaron away right when she found out I liked him. What would’ve stopped her from doing it with you?”

“Me,” Janis insists. “I would have stopped it.”

“But what if she’s better for you?!” Cady asks pleadingly. “Regina could take care of you. She’s pretty, and nice now. She’s rich, and smart, and she can do art and stuff too. What- what do I have? I’m just some homeschooled weirdo from Kenya who doesn’t understand people and won’t shut up about math. I-I’m autistic, that’s gonna be hard to deal with sometimes, and in terms of looks I’m not anything special. I want you to have someone who makes you happy. You deserve someone like her. Someone.... someone better.”

“I don’t give a hot, crispy, Kentucky fried fuck what you think I deserve. I know what I want, and I want you. I want my Caddy, my Peanut, my Butterfly,” Janis says passionately, cupping her cheeks and looking into her eyes. “I want your pretty blue eyes and your red hair that smells like cherries and your freckles I can find constellations in. I want my math nerd who does calculus for fun and who can’t do art to save her life but tries anyway because she knows it’ll make me smile. I want my animal lover who makes friends with the squirrels in the woods and didn’t notice a deer followed her on her walk to my house, my girl who can tell me facts I never needed to know about lions and fun stories about Africa. You make me happy. I want you, baby. Nobody else.”

Cady throws herself at Janis, knocking her backwards onto the bed and locking their lips together. Janis kisses her back just as hard, gripping her waist so hard Cady can feel bruises forming. She doesn’t care. She’s flooded with relief at the familiar waxy texture of Janis’ lipstick, the comforting smell of vanilla from her soft skin and the safe feeling of being held in her arms. She pulls back for a split second to breathe before diving back in, gasping as Janis nips her lip and twines their tongues together.

When they finally pull back, Janis just cups Cady’s face to look at her, lips swollen and two-toned hair wild around her. “I’m so sorry,” Cady says, pulling back to sit again and burying herself in Janis’ shoulder when she follows. “I hated fighting, I love you, I’m sorry.”

“The only thing you have to be sorry for is not telling me you were feeling that way. This is only gonna work if we both feel okay about ourselves, and tell each other when we don’t. I’m sorry for not talking with you about this kind of thing sooner. This whole relationship needs to be based on trust and talking to each other, okay?”

Cady nods. “Okay. We both take care of each other?”

“Exactly, my girl,” Janis confirms, grinning as Cady kisses her cheeks. “But ourselves, too.”

“Have you ever felt like this? With me?” Cady asks gently.

“Of course. I wonder every day what I did to deserve you. I was so jealous the whole time you were with Aaron, and I thought you were way out of my league for a long time,” Janis responds, chuckling when Cady pulls back to look at her incredulously. “You’re so beautiful, and so smart. You were queen of the school for a good while, I thought you would at least want someone as smart as you, if not as nice and pretty. When we first got together I spent a lot of time wondering why you didn’t pick Kevin or even Regina over me.”

“Then I’m sorry too. You’re what I want, I love you. I love the way you always smell like paint, I love the one little chunk of hair that always slips into your face,” Cady says, brushing it behind Janis’ ear. “I love the way you’re so tough and strong and yet you cry over the snake food at the pet store and try to steal the dwarf hamsters every time we go. I love how you never let my feet touch the ground when we’re together, and how you seem so cold but give the warmest hugs and softest kisses. I love how you’re the only person who regularly asks for stories about Kenya and never tells me to be quiet, and how you let me ramble about math and at least pretend to be interested even though you don’t understand what I’m on about. I love that you let me call you stupid little nicknames even though it ‘goes against your image’. I love that you’re so passionate about everything, that you care so much about what’s important to you and aren’t afraid to let people know it. I. Love. You. So much. Promise me you’ll tell me if you feel that way again.”

“I promise, baby. I love you too,” Janis responds with tears in her eyes. Cady clings to her tightly, happy they seem to be okay again. They sit like that for a short while, content to be holding each other again.

“Janis?” Cady asks quietly after a moment.

“Yes, Princess?” Janis responds, opening her eyes again.

“What have you been talking with Regina about?”

Janis chuckles, kissing her cheek. “I’ve been trying to come up with something to surprise you with, to celebrate you being valedictorian. Reggie likes party planning and stuff, I thought she might have some ideas.”

“Really?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Oh my god, I’m so stupid,” Cady chuckles. Janis flicks her gently.

“Hey, no you’re not. You’re the valedictorian, for fucks sake. And I did not go about any of this correctly.”

“I didn’t either, I don’t blame you. But you don’t have to get me anything, Jayjay,” Cady mumbles sheepishly as she nuzzles back into Janis.

“I know I don’t have to, I want to,” Janis replies. “You’ve worked so hard, you deserve something.”

“What have you guys come up with?” Cady asks.

“Regina wants to throw you some kind of party, but that’s all we’ve gotten so far. I’m trying to talk her out of some sort of rager,” Janis answers.

“Oh, that sounds fun. But yeah, I don’t want anything big or crazy,” Cady says.

“What do you want? Since it’s not a surprise anymore. Might as well get your input,” Janis says in response.

Cady thinks for a while. “I dunno. Something with food. Maybe outside if it’s a nice day. I trust your judgement.”

“A dangerous choice,” Janis chuckles.

“I know,” Cady giggles. “But really. As long as it’s not anything crazy or expensive I don’t mind what you choose to do.”

“Okay. I can work with that. I love you,” Janis says.

“I love you too. I missed you,” Cady says.

“I missed you too, baby,” Janis responds. “Was torture without you.”

“We really have to do something for Damian, too,” Cady hums thoughtfully. “I would’ve totally spiraled without him.”

“God, yeah, me too,” Janis says. “You think of something to get him, we’ll give it to him on the same day we do your little bash.”

“Okay,” Cady giggles. She goes quiet for a long moment before piping up again. “Janis?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you help me with my English project?”

“Yes,” Janis laughs. “Of course.”

“Thank god.”

————-

“Hey, Cady, can we talk?” Regina stops her in the hallway on her way to study hall.

“Oh god, Regina! Sorry, you scared me. Uh, yeah, are you okay with talking in the bathroom?”

Regina grimaces, but nods. Cady follows her in.

“Regina, I’m sorry, I should never have accused you of trying to steal Janis,” Cady apologizes. “You’ve worked so much on being nicer, and it really shows, I’m sorry I ever thought you would still do something like that.”

“Whoa, Cady,” Regina says. “Um, it’s... fine. I wasn’t expecting you to apologize. I wanted to apologize, I should have been more careful with how Janis and I were meeting and stuff. I don’t know if she’s talked to you yet, but she would never cheat on you, especially with me. I think she still hates me. Please forgive Janis, none of this was her fault.”

“Gina, hey,” Cady comforts. “Janis and I talked this weekend, we’re back together. Everything is okay. We’ve all learned some very valuable lessons. I forgive you.”

“Oh thank fuck,” Regina sighs. “The universe has felt out of balance since you broke up. I was wondering what you guys were going to do to me that could be worse than the Kälteen bars.”

“I’m still sorry about those,” Cady mumbles sheepishly. “Let’s just, like... talk about stuff, in the future? Stop having to have moments like this?”

“Agreed,” Regina says. “You want to hug it out, don’t you?” Cady nods. “Fine. Thirty seconds.”

“I’ll take it,” Cady says happily. “I’ll make a hugger out of you yet.”

————-

“Jayjay!” Cady calls, leaping on Janis from behind.

“Jesus fuck! Caddy! Don’t do that,” Janis yelps as she turns around.

“Hi,” Cady says, grinning up at her. “I sowwy.”

Janis glares at her. “You’re forgiven. For a kiss.”

Cady happily obliges, reaching her arms around Janis’ neck as she leans up to kiss her sweetly. “Better?”

“For now,” Janis says, pecking her gently again. “Do you want to work on your project? I’ve been freed from planning your little shindig for the day, Regina wanted to go see Damian.”

“Aww, that’s nice of her. I definitely need your help, it’s due on Friday and I only have a couple slides,” Cady says.

“Tits. You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Cady says, lacing their fingers together as Janis leads her to her truck.

Janis flops onto Cady’s bed when they arrive, reaching for her laptop to see what Cady has so far. She bursts out laughing when she sees the only slide Cady’s made.

“What’s so funny?” Cady asks. She’d been pretty sleep deprived by the time she actually got around to putting it together, but thought she had done a pretty good job.

“Did you proofread this at all?” Janis says in between fits of laughter.

“I hadn’t slept in two days at the time, but yes,” Cady replies, almost offended.

“Baby, this just says ‘I’m so tired. Please god let me sleep.’ over and over with a bunch of typos,” Janis says breathlessly, wiping tears of laughter from under her eyes.

“Oh. Oops,” Cady replies. Apparently she’s made less progress than she had thought.

“Next time, pace yourself. You need to sleep, Butterfly,” Janis says, reaching for her. Cady comes to sit on her lap.

“So, what career do you want to do this project on? It’s supposed to be what you want to do when you grow up, right?” Janis asks, holding her close.

“Yeah,” Cady mumbles. “But... I don’t know what I want to do.”

“Oh, baby, that’s okay. I don’t know either,” Janis comforts. “Do you have any ideas of jobs you want?”

“My parents want me to go into zoology, like them,” Cady replies. “And I’ve been... wondering if I should go into medicine. Like Rhys wanted to. Since he couldn’t himself.”

“But what do you want to do?” Janis asks. “I think it’s great that you’re considering medicine for your brother, but if it’s not what you really want then you shouldn’t force yourself into it.”

“I kind of want to teach math,” Cady mumbles shyly. “Like, to college or high school kids. Maybe get my PhD in math and stuff. I think math is fun, I want to help other people have fun with it too.”

“You would be such a good teacher, baby,” Janis comforts, kissing her cheek. “You should absolutely do that if it’s what you want. You’ll be successful enough to make your parents happy, and be doing something you’re interested in. That’s a great fit for you.”

Cady looks more than a little relieved at that, but realizes something. “I’d feel guilty though. I promised I’d become a doctor for Rhys when he died. I just... don’t really want to anymore. I don’t think I’d be very good at it.”

“Butterfly, Rhys would want you to be happy with whatever you choose to do. You already honor him every day just by existing. You’re so smart, and kind, and beautiful. I know you’re already making him proud, you don’t owe him anything else,” Janis reminds her. She never met Rhys, but from everything she’s heard about him she just made a true statement.

“Thank you, Jayjay. I guess if I did get my PhD I’d technically be a doctor,” Cady jokes. “I’ll decide later, I have a couple years.”

“That you do. Unfortunately, becoming a math teacher doesn’t make for a very interesting project, though, so maybe pick a fake career and we’ll look into that,” Janis says.

“I did actually want to be a zoologist when I was really little, we could do that,” Cady says.

“Sounds like a plan,” Janis replies as she kisses her cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Cady responds. “Can we just make out instead?”

“Tempting,” Janis says. “You get one minute of kissing for every half hour.”

“Fine.”

————-

“Hey, Cady, can you go to the mall with us after school today?” Gretchen asks, flanked by Karen.

“Yeah,” Cady responds. “Is this related at all to-“

“No!” Karen insists before she can finish.

“Karen, sweetie, she knows she’s having some kind of party. She just doesn’t know what’s happening specifically,” Gretchen says quietly.

“Oh yeah,” Karen says. “Then yes. They’re going shopping for supplies today and told us to distract you. Confetti emoji.”

“Ah,” Cady giggles. “Yeah, I can go. I’ll meet you guys by the main doors after school?”

“Caucasian thumbs up!” Karen responds, pulling Gretchen away.

“Yeah, we’ll be there!”

“Okay, Sarkisian, what’s this wonderful idea you’ve had?” Regina asks.

“A picnic!” Janis says excitedly. “She wants something with food and something outside. We’ll have a picnic in the park.”

“That... actually doesn’t sound terrible,” Regina says. “So what do we need?”

“A big-ass blanket,” Janis responds as they enter a party store. “And food. And Caddy loves balloons, but we should get those on the day.”

“Who’s gonna make the food, Jan?” Regina asks.

“Jules can, she loves to cook. She’s been wanting to practice stuff anyway,” Janis responds, looking at their selections of plates.

“How is she?” Regina asks quietly. She hasn’t seen Juliana since she and Janis were twelve.

“She’s good,” Janis answers. “Tall as shit, little evil genius. She’s super smart and sarcastic and stuff. She’s big into writing now, too. How’s Kylie been?”

“I... She... I’m...” Regina stutters. “She’s a good kid, but she’s turning into a little version of me. I’m trying to stop her before she gets to where I was.”

Janis hums sadly. “Well, at least you’re a better role model for her now. And you’re both getting the help you need. Kylie was the sweetest little thing last time I saw her, I don’t think she can get to your level.”

“I hope not,” Regina mumbles. “Cady likes yellow, right? We could do white and yellow, that would be cute.”

Janis gets the sense they’re done talking about their families for a reason, now. “Yeah, yellow is her favorite. We could go buy some white sheets from somewhere for cheap and then do yellow plates and shit.”

“Done. I’m buying,” Regina says, grabbing several packs of plates and napkins.

“No! She’s my girlfriend,” Janis protests. “I’m paying.”

“Jan, just let me have this.”

“Fine. ‘S your money,” Janis grumbles.

“Thank you.”

“Hmph.”

Cady, unfortunately, has study hall as her last class of the day in the English wing, so she has to rush to meet Gretchen and Karen by the entrance to the school.

She’s so excited to be spending time with them that she almost runs past them, managing to slow down just before she barrels into Gretchen.

“Hi, sorry,” she says breathlessly. “Who’s driving?”

“I will,” Gretchen offers. Riding with other drivers tends to make her anxious.

“I call shotgun!” Karen calls, already heading to the car. That leaves Cady in the back, which she doesn’t mind.

They put their backpacks in the trunk and hop in, Karen dancing along in her seat to the radio. Cady texts Damian on the ride there, since he had an appointment to check on his foot today. He’d been back in school starting that week, but was still stuck on crutches.

Little Slice: How was the doctor????

Big Slice: Good! I don’t have to use crutches anymore, I just have to wear a boot and go easy on it

Big Slice: No dancing for a while :(

Little Slice: Aw :((( You’ll be back to dancing soon though!!

Little Slice: And yay no more crutches!!!!!!!!!

Big Slice: Yeah now Pippa can’t trip me lmao

Big Slice: Wait aren’t you at the mall??

Little Slice: Yeah, we just got here. I just wanted to check on you 📷

Big Slice: Aw, thanks Cads

Big Slice: Go have fun I’m all good

Little Slice: Okay. Love you 🥰

Big Slice: Love you too, go eat pretzels 🥨

Little Slice: 📷🥨

She chuckles and shuts her phone off, following after her friends into the mall. “Are you guys wanting anything in particular or are we just here for fun?”

“Both!” Karen cheers. “We should totally buy you an outfit for your party. But I also want frozen yogurt.”

“Oh, I didn’t bring any money,” Cady remembers. “But you guys should have fun, I’ll just hang around.”

“No, it’s our treat. We haven’t paid anything for your party,” Gretchen says.

“You guys don’t have to do that,” Cady mumbles. She’s slightly embarrassed by all the attention she’s been getting lately.

“Money bag emoji, let us buy you stuff, Cady. We’re both pretty rich,” Karen says.

“Yeah, come on. Frozen yogurt and one outfit from, like, Forever 21 or something isn’t that expensive anyway, Cades,” Gretchen adds.

“Okay, fine,” Cady begrudgingly agrees. “Let’s do yogurt first, I’m hungry.”

Karen takes both their hands and hauls them towards her favorite shop.

Once they’re sufficiently full of yogurt and toppings, they head to find an outfit for Cady. Gretchen wanders off for a second, leaving Karen and Cady to browse some racks. She comes back with a beautiful white sundress, patterned with yellow flowers.

She shyly approaches Cady, offering the dress. “What do you think of this?”

“Oh, Gretch, this is so pretty! Let me go try it on, it’s beautiful,” Cady squeals, rushing towards the changing rooms. It’s a soft cotton, with a pretty tight bodice and a skirt that flares at her waist, and ends just above her knees. Gretchen seems to have remembered her sizes from their plastic days, the dress fits perfectly.

She opens the curtain to go show her friends, both of them clapping happily and squealing as she spins around. It’s different than it was when they went shopping last year. She can tell their reactions are genuine, rather than just trying to appease her.

“What do you think?” Gretchen asks shyly.

“Gretch, it’s perfect. It’s so soft,” Cady says, looking at herself in the mirror. It has short sleeves, so she might get a little chilly, but she can steal a jacket from Janis. “And, I can wear it to graduation too. It’s beautiful.”

“Oh, good,” Gretchen breathes. She’s working on not needing quite so much external validation, but it’s a slow process.

“You look hot,” Karen adds, making Cady laugh.

“Thanks,” She says, kicking up a heel. “Do you guys want to come over? Watch a movie or something?”

“Totally, that would be fetch,” Gretchen says.

“I’m so glad you still say fetch,” Cady giggles. “Let’s go!”

—————-

A few days later, Janis is typing the final few slides of Cady’s project as her girlfriend lays in her lap and dictates.

“And... you’re done,” Janis says as she enters the last few words. “Now we just need to proofread it and cite your sources.”

“Mmh,” Cady whines. “I hate citing stuff.”

“I hate it too,” Janis says, leaning down to kiss her gently. Cady rests a hand on the back of her head, keeping her close and kissing her back. Janis gives in for a second, before she resists and pulls back. “Stop trying to seduce me into letting you slack off, Peanut.”

“Fine,” Cady huffs as she sits up, still in Janis’ lap as she enters all her sources. “There.”

Janis turns her around to face her. “Good job, baby.”

“Thank you for helping me,” Cady says contently as she nuzzles into her. “I love you.”

“I love you too. So much,” Janis hums. “Have you thought of anything to get for Damian, by the way?”

“A couple things,” Cady says. “He mentioned something when you guys were telling me about Phillip last year, um... an... uh-“

“Edible arrangement?” Janis asks with a chuckle, remembering the story.

“Yeah! What are those?” Cady asks.

“They’re like flower bouquets but they’re made of fruit, so you can eat them,” Janis replies.

“Oh. We could make one of those? Does he like them?”

“That would be cute,” Janis says. “He likes fruit a lot, I don’t see why he wouldn’t like one. They can’t be too hard to make.”

“Don’t say that, you’ll jinx us,” Cady jokes. “We should decorate a little vase to put it in, too.”

“Sounds like a plan, Butterfly,” Janis says. “Are you excited for Sunday?” She and Regina had finally gathered everything they would need, and decided to have the picnic on Sunday so Juliana would have Saturday to prep the food, with the assistance of Regina and their moms.

“Yes! I can’t wait to see what you guys came up with,” Cady says happily. “I know it’ll be perfect.”

“Good,” Janis says as she leans in to kiss her. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” Cady teases.

“No way. I love you most.”

“Well... I love you... moster.” Cady stumbles, making them both laugh.

“Okay, fine, you win for today,” Janis chuckles.

“Ha! I win,” Cady says. “My prize is cuddles.”

“I can live with that.”

——————-

Sunday finally rolls around, and Janis is shaking with excitement. She’d spent the day before with Cady, putting together Damian’s thank you gift while Regina and Juliana spent the day cooking at her house.

She and Cady had both wound up absolutely covered in paint from trying to decorate the vase they had picked, and painted a Broadway stage on. Once they had scrubbed most of it off, they decided to start prepping the fruit, neither of them quite understanding how to turn a cantaloupe into a flower. Eventually they got the hang of it, putting together a rather lovely arrangement. Damian would like it, at least.

Cady had mischievously decided to chuck a melon ball at Janis once they had finished putting everything together, so Janis had thrown a grape back. Eventually every piece of the extra fruit they had had been thrown at someone, and they had a delicious mess to clean up.

Her jacket had also gone missing, which was slightly concerning. She had planned on wearing it to the picnic as well, but is wearing a backup since it never turned up.

“Janny. Breathe,” Juliana demands. as Janis is frantically running around trying to make sure everything is in place. They’d bought cheap white sheets and stitched them together to make a massive blanket, which is spread over the soft grass, and bought yellow balloons which are weighing the blanket down at the corners.

Juliana had truly gone all out, prepping almost all of Cady’s favorite foods. All sorts of sandwiches, chocolate covered strawberries, a cheese board, pink lemonade, and even an adorable froggy cake.

“Okay,” Janis says as she teases a deep breath. “You really did a great job, kid, this stuff looks great.”

Julie beams up at her as Janis pulls her into a hug. “Thanks, Janny.”

“Yeah, Jan, chill. Everything’s fine, just wait for your girl,” Regina says, adjusting a bunch of balloons.

“Okay.”

She doesn’t have to wait long, as Damian shows up about ten minutes later with her blindfolded girlfriend in tow. So that’s where her jacket had gone.

He leads Cady to a good place, where she can see the whole spread, before he unties her blindfold.

Cady gasps excitedly, taking everything in for a split second before she runs to jump into Janis’ arms. Janis spins her around as Cady giggles happily, grinning down at her. She pulls Janis down into a kiss as soon as she’s on her feet again, wrapping her arms around her neck and pressing the lips together sweetly.

“Janis, this is beautiful, I love it,” she says as soon as they break apart. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, baby,” Janis says quietly, leaning down to kiss her again. They only remember they’re not alone when everyone starts making gagging noises, Juliana somehow already on Damian’s back. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Cady whispers, giving her one more peck before going to thank Regina and Julie. Regina begrudgingly accepts a hug, and Julie grins happily as Cady wraps her in a tight hug and kisses her cheek. Once that’s been handled she looks around a little more, smiling widely. “Should we give Damian his thing now?”

“Sure,” Janis says, heading to grab it as Damian does a lazy waltz with her sister. He only has to wear the boot for a few more weeks, luckily. “Dame!”

“What? Aww!” He squeals when they hold out his homemade fruit bouquet. “This is so cute.”

“It’s a thank you present, for telling us we were both being idiots but in a nice way,” Janis replies. “Neither of us want to think about what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been there to talk us down.”

“Aww. I should become a marriage counselor, if I get this kind of stuff every time,” Damian says, eating one of the melon flowers. He gasps with exaggerated drama as they both lean in to smooch one of his cheeks at the same time, pressing a hand over his heart.

“Thanks, Damian,” Cady giggles.

“You’re welcome. When do we get to eat?” Damian asks, cradling his bouquet.

“Once everyone else shows up,” Regina answers, coming over to join their conversation. “Speak of the devil.”

Cady peeks around Damian to see who else has arrived, going to greet the Mathletes, along with Karen and Gretchen with a hug.

She spends the picnic chatting with everyone, but also spends a lot of it stuck close to Janis. She’s either hugging her, in her lap, or holding her hand throughout the whole thing. It’s cute.

Cady and Janis stay behind after everyone else goes home to clean up, deciding to have a moment to themselves first. The sun went down a while ago, so they cuddle up on the blanket and look at the stars.

“I love you,” Cady says quietly after a while, rolling on top of Janis.

“I love you too,” Janis responds as she pulls her down into a kiss. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” Cady whispers, ghosting the words over Janis’ lips. “Today was perfect.”

“I’m glad,” Janis says. “Now kiss me.”

Cady obliges, cupping her face to kiss her as Janis rests her hands on her waist. Janis flicks her tongue at the seam of her lips, moaning quietly when Cady lets her in and their tongues meet.

They both know they should get to work soon, but for now their responsibilities are allowed to fade into the background. The picnic was wonderful, but not quite worth almost losing one another.

They lose the world in each other, tasting the universe on each other’s lips as the stars twinkle just for them above their heads.

All is well.

hope you enjoyed! this was a prompt fill for Hayeena and Aubrey_Plaza_Stole_HappiestSeason on ao3.

also, translation for the Swahili: ndege wangu mdogo wa wimbo: my little songbird. I have no idea if its accurate, I don't speak Swahili.

requests are still open! please leave them either here, on my ao3 or on my wattpad. all are the same handle, maybeimamuppet.

lots of love,

ezzy

#cadnis #paint by numbers #space safari #cady heron x janis sarkisian #cady x janis #cady heron #janis sarkisian #damian hubbard #regina george #gretchen wieners #karen smith #mean girls #mean girls musical #mean girls broadway

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