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mooleche · 5 years

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A Tale of Ink and Venom

A/N - It’s happening! I’m reworking the old story I was working on to hopefully build a better version in its place! Multi-chapter fic involving OC x Colossus where OCs story unfolds while trying to do a heroic act that ends badly and the chaos the unfolds in the aftermath. Might do a few chapters on here and then move over to AO3 fully eventually to keep from making super long posts but we’ll see how it goes! ( *’ω’* ) Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

Also BIG THANKS to @leo-writer for proofreading, you are a saint ily!

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Chapter One: The Video

Moments.

Buddha says that one moment can change a day, one day can change a life and one life can change the world.

I was never one for religion but I think he was onto something there. Look at heroes, for example, they’re faced with moments like these every day. Ones that will save a life and ones that will take them away the second you hesitate. Moments that will give you the upper hand if you’re lucky and others that will leave you flat on your ass if you're not.

Or worse.

Now, I'm no hero by any means, but I like to think that the moments I experienced today would help shape what was in store for me tomorrow. A moment that would maybe even help shape me into something more someday.

So with that, let me ask you this:

Just what moment was it that led me to witness the death of a real superhero in his time of need? And not just any run of the mill death either. I'm talking blood everywhere, in my mouth, in my hair.

Everywhere.

How had it all gone so wrong so fast?

I suppose in order to know that we have to go to the beginning, back to the morning where my life was about to be given a serious overhaul into chaos.

Back to college.

It was late. Very late.

A judgemental 3:45 AM stared back at me from the corner of my laptop's screen and a sigh of defeat escaped me. The Witching hour no longer belonged to ghosts and demons, but to college students that waited until the very last minute to get their 10-page essays written before it was too late. I was no exception to this, sacrificing the last remaining brain cells I had left to crap out what I deemed a passable paper on the artists of old.

At least that's what I had been doing.

Now I sat with my legs drawn up to my chest as I stared with growing exhaustion at my laptop. The glowing screen was flooded with news reports of the latest superhero successes and the villains they caught around town. This wasn’t exactly an uncommon thing for a city like Brooklynn. In fact, it was because of this city being such a hot zone for criminal activity that we had things like ‘Top 10 Villain Blunders of the Week’ to begin with.

Then, strangely, my eyes spotted something that I hadn’t expected to see.

I lurched forward, immediately feeling my body protest as I inspected the article that had grabbed my attention. It was a few days old, a journalist touching base on a series of unfortunate events from almost 6 months ago. A superhero trainee under the name of Deadpool had landed himself in hot water after murdering an orderly from the Essex House for Mutant Rehabilitation in what was seen as a cold-blooded attack to the media. Just reading the name of the facility left a bad taste in my mouth, but the video it included to recount the moment made the sensation even worse.

It was old, I had watched it over a dozen times in the recent months and yet I still found myself glued to the screen with morbid curiosity. The cameraman who had been focusing on a tense-looking reporter at the scene now fumbled clumsily over to the main event, a stout looking teen who had earlier called himself Firefist. I’d give you three guesses why he called himself that but taking a look at his clenched fists answered it all too well.

He stood separated from a cautious crowd of police and bystanders with hands that radiated heat strong enough to cause everyone surrounding him to keep their distance. That was if all the destroyed wreckage around him hadn’t given them more than enough reason to stay back already.

As many times as I had seen this, I still felt bad for him. He looked worn down and angry, but more than anything was the noticeable expression of fear he wore, like a trapped animal willing to do anything to escape. A feeling that I was once all too familiar with.

I sank back into my chair and sighed. No amount of times seeing that clip made that look any easier to see. It was one that hit so close to home and yet I couldn't pinpoint it no matter how many times I tried. I closed my eyes and listened to him continue to threaten the police ballsy enough to step towards him:

"Stay back, I'll burn you!"

The words didn't resonate, but the tone did. Somewhere in the back of my mind was a memory lurking that I couldn't quite touch no matter how hard I focused on it. A memory sealed away so tight that even thinking about it caused my thoughts to grow numb, but that panic in the boy's voice always caused it to stir. Sometimes I felt like I was close enough to grasp it, all I needed was to push a little farther-

A loud bang erupted nearby and my eyes shot open in a panic. Whatever unconscious soul searching I had been doing was broken as I scrambled to catch my headphones now threatening to fall off my face. I looked around, both frantic to find the source to the sudden noise and also hoping no one saw my embarrassing act only to be greeted with muffled laughter nearby.

"Buenos Dias, Princesa! Did I wake you?"

I rubbed my eyes haphazardly and looked to the side of the small room to find a redheaded amazonian grinning back at me from the window. To my utter surprise, the sun was now out and shining it’s smug rays straight into our dorm as I stood to greet the grinning assailant. My bones protested with various cracks in response before I shuffled to my bed and threw open the window to face her.

"That wasn’t funny, Ava! What are you even doing up so early?" I asked through an unavoidable yawn, but I already knew the answer. Ava Santana was a Dominican powerhouse of energy, a mysterious enigma that seemed to only love running, German beer and, for a few crazy months, me. When she wasn’t burning the candle at both ends to keep her insane track record and an intimidating 4.0 GPA up, she was usually creating some wild new building blueprints that she was proud to show off to you before stealing your girlfriend.

I didn’t know how she did it all and at this point, I was too afraid to ask.

She lifted herself onto the windowsill before tossing her shoes inside, swinging her long tan legs onto my bed to join me all in one fell swoop. All I could do was blink in surprise, knowing I would have faceplanted halfway through if I even attempted this motion. Her gaze studied me curiously now.

"We both know why I’m awake, or were you expecting someone else to carry our track team to victory?" She teased, her face close to mine with a devious smile planted on her lips. “What's your excuse though, Sleeping Beauty? Building more schematics? Spying on the police scanner? Or maybe staying up late to watch him again?”

“Me? What? Hah, no. Can’t a girl just finish her essay like a good normal college student?”

“You could...if you’re not Nina Knight,” another voice announced beside us and I turned quickly to see another familiar face smirking back at us. Her name was Bambi Banks and she was known as the bad influencer extraordinaire of our dorm when she wasn’t taking candid photos for the Daily Bugle. You thought you had a bad idea? She had 10 at the ready that would probably get you put on the Top 10 lists. Despite this, she was the best friend a girl could ever ask for.

Even if she now held my laptop in her hands frozen on a very particular shot of the clip that caused my face to burn.

“I really was working on my essay!” I protested as I reached for it only to fall short as Bambi moved just out of my range and looked to Ava curiously.

“I don’t know, Ava. Does this look like an essay to you?”

“You’re the journalist in training, tell us what you see.”

“Well if I had to title this ‘essay’, I would say ‘10 Reasons I Want This Man to Sit on My Fac-’”

“Alright, enough! You caught me,” I protested as I made another attempt to grab the laptop and succeeded, cradling it in my arms with a frown plastered on my face. “I just wanted to hear the update on this story…It put a lot of people in hot water y’know.” I added before taking a seat back at my desk, ignoring their victorious snickers. As much as I did have ulterior motives for watching the clip I really did want to see the outcome of the nationwide fiasco. Despite both the trainee and the kid being taken to the Ice Box to be reprimanded the X-Men and mutantkind as a whole were put under fire for their actions and the remainder of the story fell to a hush to the media in the months after.

Bambi rolled her eyes and ran her hands through her hair, flecks of hot pink from her bangs peeking through her blonde locks as she gave an exasperated sigh over my earnest answer.

“I really shouldn’t be saying this but the guy that looked like he was a walking talking condom was in the right all along.”

“No bullshit? How?” I pressed, now fully taken by the sudden turn of events.

“I heard it from some guy at the Bugle. That Essex place was nasty for mutants, another conversion camp or something so the government was desperado to keep it under wraps.”

“Leave it to the government to try and kill the truth,” Ava muttered under her breath as she stood to leave, pausing to take one of my hands in hers to inspect it thoughtfully. The contrast was big between us; her hands were long and slender while mine were smaller and discolored to a sooty black at the tips. “At least this means you won’t have to hide anymore.”

I knew that she meant well but the words still caused me frown. Not many people knew that I myself was a mutant. Hell, when you lived in a society where people who weren’t old, white, or male were already frowned upon like the next bubonic plague it wasn’t something you wanted getting out. Throw a genetic mutation that gave you unusual powers into the mix and you were the plague. I was lucky to have people around me that knew and accepted me like I was normal, but the reminder still stung.

Bambi seemed to sense this and absent-mindedly pressed the play button on the video once more as if to distract my thoughts and boy did it work. I felt my face grow warm once more as the clip played. There, once frozen on the screen had been the perfect back shot of a man sprawled over the trainee after his killer shot, a man that now stood a good few feet over everyone else as the police did the cleanup of the area.

A man covered head to toe in metal.

He went by Colossus, but his real name was Piotr Rasputin. At least this is what Google told me when I went super-sleuthing around after I saw him in action for the first time. When he wasn't saving the day with his ragtag team of heroes he taught at Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Learning, a sanctuary for mutants who wanted to feel safe while honing their skills to help mold a better tomorrow.

I had met Xavier himself years ago on my own tour of the school with my parents. He was very nice and very bald. The school itself had been created in his families estate and transformed into the bustling safe haven that it now was, when it wasn't getting blown up by the villain of the week at least. Despite this terrifying fact I was always envious of those who could attend because I had always wanted to enroll myself. The only downside was that my parents didn't want a burnt corpse for a daughter in the aftermath. How selfish.

I threw my hands up to my face and groaned. “That could have been me on his team! I could have been hot for teacher!”

“And? What’s stopping you? If you like him so much why don't you just go to the school?" Ava called from our bathroom and I groaned again.

“It doesn’t work like that. You can't just go back to that school.”

“And why not? You’re a mutant right? You wanna meet other mutants, right? Maybe get some chrome dome in the process if you get my drift,” Bambi winked.

I glared at her in response.

It was true, I was a mutant, and maybe I did want that chrome dome. But I had tried the whole superhero vigilante thing before.

It didn’t go well.

An ancient proverb once said ‘You can't swim, you can't dance and you don't know karate. Face it, you're never gonna make it.’ and you know what? I stood by that. It’s why I took my very particular set of skills and decided to waste away in one of Brooklynn's most prestigious art colleges -they're words, not mine- instead. It wasn’t ideal, with a dorm that I was convinced was made for ants instead of four people with questionable living styles, but I had friends and I finally felt normal. I didn’t need to mess it up by visiting that school again.

As if reading my thoughts Bambi frowned and took one of my hands in hers, inspecting my inky black fingertips with thoughtful blue eyes.

“I know you’re deadset on having a normal life here but you have a gift, Neeners. And you deserve to be able to show the world what you can do with it.”

“Yeah, I’m really going to turn the world around with my ability to control ink,” I scoffed before taking my hand back gently and sighing. As much as I wanted to bury that side of me I did want to meet others like me, be a part of something bigger and save the day once in a while.

This? This life was boring. But it was safe. And I needed safe.

I looked up to her and smiled softly. “I...will consider going back there, if only to pay Mr. Xavier a visit and...maybe see how the school’s doing.”

“Code for visiting Mr. heavy metal man, got it.” Bambi winked while imitating a heavy Russian accent as she moonwalked poorly out of the room.

“You’re a terrible influence, Bam,” I called through stifled laughter before standing and stretching. As much as I hated her pep talks sometimes she was the reason I kept using my powers, keeping them as fresh as I could in case the chance ever arose to use them. Even now the schematics that Ava had so casually mentioned as a joke were tucked away under my desk to play with on a rainy day.

I must have stared at them too long because I felt Bams hand gently touch my shoulder and I jumped in surprise.

“Did you hear Ava? Your alarm is going off,” she asked softly before nodding towards my phone. She was right, the soft tune alerted the room once more before I had the chance to turn it off and blinked in surprise.

“Sorry, my mind was somewhere else...”

“Between Professor Colossus’ thick thighs we knooow. Don’t let that mans glutes cost you your job,” Ava teased before motioning for Bambi to follow her out the door. She held back and gave me a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey, don’t let our conversation from earlier freak you out. Baby steps, okay? No rush,”

“Right. Baby steps…” I whispered, my gaze falling back to my hands that I had begun wringing absentmindedly with growing anxiety. I looked back up to her and smiled. “Thanks, Bam. I appreciate it.”

“Hey, that’s what friends are for, right?” she grinned before disappearing behind the door. She was right. Friends were there to steer you onto the better path when you doubted yourself. This is what I tried to convince myself as I headed to the bathroom to prepare for the day ahead.

Now that I look back on it I was grateful for that peaceful moment of clarity between friends because after what happened later on, God was I going to need it.

#long post #fanfic #oc x colossus #marvelsona #oc shit #Nina Knight #vibrates off of tumblr #I'm mad shy abt posting this so #b y e

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im-fairly-whitty · 7 years

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The Way You Keep Me Guessing: Coco Teacher!AU

[Part 1: Unexpected Responsibility] [Part 2: La Directora] [Part 3: Skipping Class] [Part 4: An Unannounced Visitor] [Part 5: The Roommate] [Part 6: Día de Muertos (Pt. 1)] [Part 7: Dia de Los Muertos (Pt.2)]

Dating Flashback: Part 1--First Date

“Ernesto please, I’m begging you hermano, you can’t betray me like this!” Héctor said desperately.

“If you can’t learn to tie your own tie then you don’t deserve to wear one.” Ernesto said, tapping shaving cream off his razor against the side of the bathroom sink, unaffected by Héctor’s pleading. “You’re twenty-six Héctor, it’s time you acted like it.”

“Please? It’ll only take you a second, you’re the one that’s always bugging me to buy a new one.” Héctor looked at the brand-new blue and purple strip of cloth in his hands, the stupid thing had been defeating his efforts for nearly half an hour. “Imelda’s going to be at the Christmas party and I want to make a good impression.”

“The ice queen next door?” Ernesto raised his eyebrow, continuing to scrape away at his five o’clock shadow. “I thought I told you to leave that one alone Teto, you’re only going to get frostbite if you go after her.”

“No, no, no, she’s not ice,” Héctor said, leaning against the bathroom wall at the very thought of La Directora. “she’s fire. Looking at her is like being in the glory of the sun.”

“Well, I guess that explains why you’ve gone blind then.” Ernesto scoffed, rinsing his razor in the sink, then wiping his face off with a towel. He sighed as he dried his hands. “Give me the tie.”

“Muchas gracias!” Héctor said, eagerly handing it over.

Héctor stood still, bending a little so Ernesto could loop the tie over his head. In a moment, the piece of fabric had been charmed into place and Ernesto slid the knot up into place.

“Next time you tie it yourself.” Ernesto said, poking Héctor in the chest, “It’s an important part of being a man, and you’ll have to be a man if you’re going to get yourself a woman, claro?”

“Sí, sí, claro.” Héctor said, leaning over Ernesto’s shoulder to look in the small bathroom mirror. “Should I put something in my hair do you think?”

“Who are you and where is Héctor?” Ernesto said, jaw slack in mock surprise, “What has the ice queen done to you? Should I be launching an intervention?”

“She’s so amazing Ernesto,” Héctor said, “she’s just, just, she’s like that feeling when you’re staring up at the night sky, and you suddenly realize how small you are.” Héctor sighed, unconsciously pulling on his tie. “But somehow you’ve still got this thrill going through you at just with how beautiful it all is and you get to be part of it, even if the universe hasn’t noticed yet.”

“You’d better cool it with the astronomy metaphors.” Ernesto chuckled, slapping Héctor’s hand away from the tie, then reaching for his aftershave. “Isn’t that how you lost Isabella?”

“Who? Oh, Isabella? No, no, this is completely different.”

“Yeah, sure. That’s what you always say.” Ernesto rolled his eyes as he rubbed some aftershave across his face. “You sure you don’t want to just come clubbing with me tonight? You’ll have a much better chance of getting some action than at your staff Christmas party.”

“It’ll be fun, it’s at that trendy new karaoke bar that just opened a few blocks away. I’m already planning on showing up late anyway, I’ve got papers to grade. Don’t you have work tonight?”

“Eh, I’m going to call in sick.” Ernesto said, closing the medicine cabinet. “It’s not like the record store really needs me when I only come in once a week anyways.”

“Why do you even work there if you don’t actually work there?” Héctor asked, reaching around Ernesto and grabbing his toothbrush.

“Networking amigo,” Ernesto said grandly, shouldering him aside to get a closer look at his mustache in the mirror. “All the weird indie hipsters need their vinyl, our gig next weekend is from a regular.”

“I’m still not sure how I feel about that.”

“Well you sure weren’t complaining the last time we had groceries.” Ernesto said, “Maybe you can ask your ice queen for a raise when you sweep her off her feet tonight.”

“Hmmmmm, maybe.” Héctor said through a mouthful of toothpaste foam. He could just imagine sweeping Imelda off her feet, her arms around his neck, her beautiful rare smile on her face, her-

“Héctor.” Ernesto said, snapping his fingers in Héctor’s face.

“What?” Héctor said, startled out of his thoughts.

“Just don’t get fired tonight alright?” Ernesto scoffed, a perfectly manicured eyebrow raised as he walked past Héctor and out of the small bathroom, “You getting some action with your boss isn’t going to be worth it if I have to pick up extra shifts because you lost your paycheck.”

“Don’t worry about it, tonight’s just going to be some friendly conversation over some drinks,” Héctor said, waving off Ernesto. “It’s all a part of my long-term plan to woo her. She’s a goddess Ernesto, you can’t win a diosa in an evening.”

“Whatever.” Ernesto called from the kitchen. “Just don’t have too much fun making small talk and singing off-key pop songs with your coworkers.”

But Héctor didn’t pay him any attention, once again becoming lost in thought as he resumed brushing his teeth. He knew it was his wildest of wild dreams, but what if something did happen between him and Imelda tonight? You just never knew with great romances, and he’d already decided that he and Imelda were going to be one of the greatest.

Now if only he could get her to think so too.

***

And you had BETTER have fun tonight, hermana.

Imelda sighed, looking up from Ceci’s text as she pulled the keys out of her car’s ignition.

I’m still their boss Ceci, she typed back, and you know I hate these party things.

Imelda leaned back in her seat, sighing. The dark December evening outside made the gaudy blue neon lights of the karaoke bar seem extra bright. She’d known assigning the staff Christmas party to Señora Rodriguez had been a mistake, By the time Imelda had found out this year’s party wasn’t going to be the usual subdued get-together at someone’s house, it had been too late for her to do anything about it.

Imelda squinted at the bar’s sign: Poco Loco.

Well. At least the place looked clean.

Imelda’s phone buzzed.

WHICH IS WHY YOU NEED TO LOOSEN UP. Ceci text-yelled.

NO, it’s why I should go home right now. Imelda texted back. Of course she would never actually skip an official work event, but it felt good to let out at least some of her anxiety on Ceci. What am I supposed to do, socialize?

This is a direct order to have at least three drinks tonight. Ceci buzzed back. No arguments. Relax and have some fun tonight Imelda, you need this.

Imelda groaned and leaned her head back against the seat, a small whine of despair escaping her in the strict privacy of her car. She knew Ceci was right, she was always right about social things, but it didn't make the fact that parties were completely structureless and unpredictable any easier to bear.

FINE. She texted back, But if anything terrible happens I’m blaming you.

I will gladly accept that responsibility. Now get in there and party, amiga. <3

Imelda grabbed her purse from the passenger’s seat and dropped her phone into it. If this were a board meeting she’d be nothing but confidence. If this were an interview she’d know exactly what to say. So why not a party? She was a grown woman, she could handle this.

She closed the car door behind her a little harder than necessary, but the power of the movement felt good. Imelda held her head high as she approached the bar’s entrance, but paused for just a moment before going in, scanning the parking lot.

There were three motorcycles parked in the corner of the lot, but none of them looked familiar.

Well, in that case, she was going to knock back the very first shot of alcohol she saw. He hadn’t come last year either, and as long as Imelda didn’t have to be on her guard around him, then she could stand to have the edge taken off her nerves as soon as possible.

***

Héctor huffed as he popped out the kickstand on his motorcycle, tilting it to the side in its parking spot in front of the karaoke bar. Why was he always late to everything? He only lived a couple blocks away, but by the time he’d finished grading his papers and gotten away from Ernesto’s repeated offer to change his plans, the evening was already nearly over.

He pulled off his motorcycle helmet and locked it to his bike, shaking his bangs out of his eyes. Well, being late was fashionable right? He just had to hope Imelda thought the same.

Which he already knew she didn’t, she was always exactly on time to everything. But who knew, maybe she was different about parties?

Héctor popped a mint into his mouth and smiling at his own reflection in the glass entrance doors before swinging them open. Parties like this were his comfort zone, he wouldn’t have to think too hard, just flow with the energy of the group as things wound down and have a good time while doing his best to catch Imelda’s attention. Easy.

He only made it a few steps into the noisy bar before someone slung an arm around his neck.

“Ay, Héctor!” Jose, the seventh-grade biology teacher, said. “Thought you weren’t coming amigo, we’re all getting ready to head out!”

“Jose, what’d I miss?” Héctor smiled, cocking finger guns at him. “Glad to see the party started even without me.”

“Héctor, you have no idea,” Jose grinned, pulling out his phone and swiping through his pictures, “you know how you missed last year’s party when La Directora nearly got tipsy?”

“Sí, how could I not, it’s all you guys talked about for a month.” Héctor scoffed, forcing a smile.

He’d missed his first staff Christmas party for a gig with Ernesto, but had come back to a slew of jokes made about at Imelda’s expense. Mostly good-natured of course, La Directora was still La Directora after all, but somehow Héctor had never quite found them funny. At all.

“Right!” Jose chuckled, holding up a picture on his phone for Héctor to see, “well this year we’ve all gone in on getting her plastered, you know, buying her drinks for being such a great boss, and it’s totally working.”

Héctor reached to take the phone, but before he could take a closer look, someone grabbed his other hand. He looked up, dropping Jose’s phone when he saw who it was.

Hair down, cheeks flushed, and eyes bright, was Imelda. Holding his hand and smiling.

“You weren’t coming!” She exclaimed brightly.

“I, uh.” Héctor said, staring down at her.

Her hand was soft and warm in his, and everything inside him jolted when, with absolutely no warning, Imelda put her other hand on his chest.

“Your tie,” she said, pulling at the strip of cloth to look at it very closely. “It’s soooo pretty...”

Héctor stiffened in visceral shock as she leaned against him, feeling at least five years instantly shave off his lifespan. She was still staring at his tie like it was the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen.

“See?” Jose said, sounding like he was close to tears with restrained laughter as he picked up his phone off the floor, “Isn’t this the greatest thing you’ve ever seen?”

“How many drinks has she had?” Héctor said, forcing words through a windpipe that felt like it had entirely closed up.

“At least three for sure, but probably around five.” Jose gasped out, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “This is priceless.”

Héctor had practiced over and over again the smooth conversation he’d start with Imelda, probably at the bar counter, probably as she tried to ignore him. He’d even equipped himself with several suitably cheesy pickup lines in case things went even better than he’d expected.

He had not prepared himself for what to do if Imelda snuggled up to him within two minutes of his arrival. He was sure his brain had been in his head when he’d walked through the door, but now there was only flustered panic between his ears.

“Señor Rivera,” Imelda said seriously, looking up at him, her face dizzyingly close to his. “This is a karreeeeokee bar and you sing right? Sing, okay?”

Héctor gingerly put his hands on her shoulders as he took a step back, praying she wouldn’t fall over. Her words sounded odd, slurring just a bit.

“How about we get you some water, eh Directora?” He said, looking around the bar helplessly, “Some food? That’ll help get the alcohol out of your system.”

“We’ve already tried, she’s wasted Héctor,” Jose said, shaking his head and pulling a jacket off the coat rack near the door. “We didn’t think she’d get this plastered so fast.”

“Ayyyyye, you’re not leaving already?” Héctor said, feeling the rising panic in his chest solidify as he saw several of his coworkers waving and laughing as they made their way out the door.

“Lo siento Héctor, that’s what happens when you come late. My kids have futbol practice in the morning.” Jose shrugged, then glanced at Imelda.

“You’re sooo taaaall.” Imelda crooned, reaching up for Héctor’s hair, but he caught her wrist just in time.

This was it. This was what was going to kill him. He was going to die in a trendy karaoke bar after being abandoned by his co-workers.

“Hey Héctor, you two live nearby right? You mind getting her home safe?” Jose said, his amusement sobering long enough to show his concern.

“Sure, I’ve got it.” Héctor said automatically, kicking himself as soon as the words were out of his mouth. If there was ever a time to say no, this should have been it.

“Muchas gracias.” Jose said, looking relieved as his amusement came back and he ducked out the door. “See you two on Monday!”

A small whine of fear escaped Héctor as he watched the last of his co-workers disappear out the door. The bar was still fairly busy, but Héctor felt as abandoned as if it were empty.

He jolted when he felt fingers sliding up his chest and automatically caught Imelda’s other wrist.

“Ah, Imelda...” Héctor looked down at her, her big brown eyes were so close to his that he found himself desperately wishing he had his glasses on for the first time in months. “Let’s get you home, alright? You look like you could use some sleep. And a lot of Tylenol in the morning.”

“I’mnotired.” She slurred, squinting at her surroundings. “But, okaaaay.”

Héctor released her wrists, but cringed as she fished a set of keys out of her purse, weaving slightly, like she might still fall over.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Héctor gingerly but quickly eased the car keys from her grasp. There was no way he was letting her near a steering wheel in this condition.

“Hey,” Imelda tried and failed to jerk the keys back from him, “don’t! I can fire you you know, I’m your boss.”

“Sí, sí,” Héctor said, stuffing the keys into his back pocket for safekeeping and then holding up his empty hands, “but you’re way too drunk to drive Imelda, why don’t I walk you home instead? Our complex isn’t far, and it’s a lovely night.”

He had no idea what he would do if she refused, in this state he wouldn’t even trust her on the back of his motorcycle.

Imelda considered him for a long moment. Her annoyed stare would have made Héctor think she was sober again if she weren’t also leaning heavily against the back of a nearby chair.

“No.” She declared with finality, giving her head an exaggerated shake. “you’re going to walk me home. I think I....might be a little drunk.”

“That sounds like a great plan,” Héctor sighed in relief. He ever-so-gently put a hand on her shoulder, steering her towards the doors. “I’d be happy to walk you home.”

“I’m just, I just hate parties you know?” Imelda said as they walked out into the cool night air.

“Oh, they aren’t always so bad.” Héctor said.

He let the bar door swing shut behind him, cutting off the rowdy chatter inside. There was a whole universe of a starry sky above them, and the endless night horizon in every direction.

“Yeah they are,” Imelda said, laughing a little as she tried for the third time to get her purse strap up onto her shoulder. “I only went because your stupid motorcycle was gone and Ceci said it was an order. ”

Héctor nearly asked what she meant, but just shook his head, following close by her side as they set off. Anything she said at this point would be tipsy rambling anyway, he just had to get her down five blocks of sidewalk without stepping into traffic was all, and by Monday this would just be a funny story to tell in the breakroom.

“I’m so tired.” Imelda said, coming to a halt so suddenly he nearly walked into her.

“Which is why we’re getting you home, so you can sleep.” Héctor said reassuringly, gently nudging her forward, “We’re almost there.”

Which was a lie.

“Can you sing the grocery song?” Imelda asked, turning to look at him. A nearby streetlight lit up her hair like a halo from behind, nearly making him forget what she’d just asked.

“The grocery song? I don’t think I’ve ever heard that one.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocking onto his toes, caught between the desire to rush her home as quickly as possible and wanting to memorize exactly how she looked at this moment. “Could you hum a few bars?”

“You do too know it,” Imelda said, then hummed the first few measures of what was unmistakably La Llorna as she continued to walk.

“How is that the “grocery song”?” Héctor asked, starting after her again.

“You sing it when you bring in your groceries.” Imelda said, sighing as if her were being rather slow for missing something so obvious. “I don’t know what it’s actually called, you’ve never sung what it’s called.”

Héctor blinked. He was usually singing or humming or tapping out some kind of tune, but had Imelda really paid him that much attention? When he passed her in the apartment complex parking lot of all places?

He wasn’t sure what to say, so he began to hum instead. Imelda nodded and continued to hum her own made-up harmony alongside his as they continued to walk, making Héctor feel very strongly that he was actually in a very strange dream and that he would probably wake up any moment.

They traveled several blocks this way, Imelda prompting him to start the song again whenever he ended, before she decided to lay down.

“Whoa, Imelda, we’re not there yet!” Héctor said as she curled up on the cold sidewalk at his feet.

“I’m just...one second...” She mumbled, her hair tumbled over her face.

“No, Imelda, come on, just a little further.” Héctor pleaded, crouching down to gently shake her shoulder but getting no response.

He looked up, their apartment complex was in sight, but it didn’t do them much good if Imelda was passed out on the sidewalk. He groaned, pulling at his neck tie until it hung more loosely, letting him think.

“Okay,” He said, straightening and anxiously grabbing a fistful of his own hair and he looked around, “okay, okayokayokay...”

He could wait for her to get up on her own, but honestly that might not be until morning judging by how unsteady she’d been right before lying down. Calling Ernesto for backup not only felt like it would be overkill, but Héctor knew he would never hear the end of it.

Héctor looked down. “Imelda?” He tried, but she didn’t move.

Alright then. He could do this. He could handle this. It was only a short walk to the apartments, he would survive.

Héctor tried to take a deep breath, but ended up holding it instead as he crouched back down and gingerly scooped up Imelda into his arms.

All in one smooth motion he stood, one of her dress shoes fell off, she sighed as she nestled her head against his shoulder, and one of her hands lazily wove her fingers around his loose necktie.

It took Héctor a full minute of overwhelmed silence to recover, but he did not drop her, which was perhaps the biggest miracle of his life. He’d have to come back for her shoe later, there was no way he was going to try picking it up now.

It was tempting to run, but he didn’t dare, instead steadily making his way towards home while cradling the most beautiful woman in Mexico (in the universe undoubtedly) in his arms. She was much lighter than he had expected, and up close she smelled like mint with a hint of something else he didn’t know the name of, but that was messing with his head in a wonderful way.

Luckily the complex parking lot was empty by the time he finally reached it. No one saw him carefully making his way up the stairs with an unconscious woman in his arms. No one saw him nervously glance around as he managed to get Imelda’s keys, still in his back pocket, out and unlocked her apartment door. Most importantly, no one saw him duck in and close the door behind them before her cat had the chance to escape.

The inside of her apartment was surprisingly similar to how he’d imagined it. Uncluttered, tastefully modern furniture, a well-stocked and organized bookshelf against one wall. He hadn’t expected the messy collection of take-out containers on the coffee table though, and he certainly hadn’t known about the small brown tabby cat that was stiffly stalking towards his ankles.

“Shhhhh, buen gato.” Héctor said nervously, taking a step back as the little animal’s fur stood on end. “If you attack me I might drop Imelda and then we’ll both be upset.”

To his surprise the cat’s fur flattened, it was still glaring up at him with its piercing yellow eyes, but it sat on it haunches. Fine, it seemed to be saying, its ears still twitched back.

Okay, so apparently Imelda did indeed have a roommate, and a protective one at that. Good to know.

Héctor looked around, recognizing the apartment layout as being similar to his own. If he had to guess, he figured that her bedroom was probably the second door down the hallway then. He just had to get her safely in bed and then he could escape from this ridiculous fever dream of an evening.

“Pepita?”

Héctor looked down to see Imelda had opened her eyes and was struggling to lift her head off his shoulder.

“Well hey, you’re back.” Héctor said gently.

“Where did I go?” She asked blearily.

“Nowhere, we’re going to get you to bed alright?”

“Gooood, I think, I might be little drunk.” She confided for the second time that evening.

Héctor chuckled as he walked down the hallway and shouldered open the door. He’d guessed right, a perfectly made bed was inside.

“You’re so distracting Rivera,” Imelda said, leaning her head against his shoulder again. “you're lucky I haven't written you up yet for being attractive.”

“What?” Héctor choked.

He nearly dropped her, but instead turned it into setting her on her feet at the last moment. She was really far gone if she was actually complimenting him, it had to be the alcohol talking.

“It’s just, your dumb hair.” Imelda leaned up against him, her fingers combing through his hair before he could stop her again. “Do you know how hard it is not to think about your hair when I’m trying to do important work stuff?”

Keep it together.

Héctor’s breathing was suddenly unsteady, his brain completely checked out at the feeling of her warm body up against his, her fingers playing with his hair.

This was too specific, it wasn’t alcohol talking.

“Imelda, you are drunk.” Héctor said aloud, reminding himself probably more than her. He commanded his arms to move and took her by the shoulders to steer her away from him and towards her bed instead. “You should get some sleep alright? You’d better get a head start on the hangover you’re going to have in the morning.”

Imelda moved to sit down on the edge of the bed and Héctor yelped in surprise as he was jerked forward, her grip still on his loose tie. He caught himself just in time, an arm on either side of her.

“Imelda you’ve got to let go of my tie.” Héctor said hoarsely.

“Oh.” Imelda said, looking at the strip of cloth in her hand like she’d completely forgotten about it. “Are you going to sleep too?”

“Yep, I’ve got my very own bed back at my own apartment.” Héctor said quickly. He felt a little like he was choking, but it wasn’t the tie, which was slipping out of its knot anyway.

“Alright, good night.” Imelda said.

She yawned, kissed him on the nose, and then slumped back on the bed, unconscious again before she even hit the covers.

Héctor straightened the moment he was free, blushing deeply as he touched his nose. His tie had slipped off from around his neck, and she was still holding it close to her on the bed. He looked down and saw the cat staring up at him, a rather cool expression on its feline face.

“I think she likes me.” Héctor whispered to it.

The car flicked its tail, unimpressed. It padded to the bed, jumped up onto the mattress, and curled up snugly under Imelda’s chin.

Héctor hesitated for a moment, but then carefully tucked Imelda’s legs up into the bed and pulled a comforter over her. He went to the kitchen, rifling through her cupboards until he’d returned to set a glass of water and a bottle ibuprofen on her nightstand. She was definitely going to need it in the morning.

That done, Héctor reached for the light switch in his way out, lingering in the bedroom doorway for a long moment. She’d shifted in her sleep, pulling a pillow close to her chest as she curled up under the covers.

Héctor wasn’t sure how long he stood there, content to gaze at her gentle beauty, before the cat raised its head, looking directly at him with a look that clearly meant move along.

“Alright, alright. No need to shout.” Héctor said quietly, flipping off the bedroom lights.

He paused by her bookshelf on his way out to make a few mental notes for future reference, then ducked out of her apartment.

The moment he was home, as soon as he’d locked his own door behind him, was when the laughing started.

Héctor sagged against the door as a chuckle of stress and disbelief escaped him.

She liked him.

Imelda knew what songs he sang when he brought in his groceries, and thought about his hair while she was working, and wanted to write him up for “being attractive.” Who knew what else was happening in that wonderful brain of hers?

He really had a chance, more than a chance. Now that he knew she liked him, under all that pretended sternness, he had something even stronger than hope to dream with.

“What on earth happened to you?”

Héctor looked up to see Ernesto standing in the hallway, dressed in his blue silk pajamas and wide-eyed as he looked down to where Héctor had slid to the floor.

“Were you mugged?” Ernesto asked.

“No no no, I just,” Héctor gasped between laughs, weak with relief. “I don’t even know what happened, I, I-”

“Are you drunk?” Ernesto folded his arms.

“I wasn’t the drunk one, Imelda-“

“Nooooo!” Ernesto gasped, dropping the book he had been holding. “You got laid?”

“No!” Héctor cried, propping himself up into a better sitting position against the door. “Let me finish!”

“Darn right you’re going to finish!” Ernesto exclaimed, dragging over a kitchen chair and sitting with his arms crossed on the back of it. “Tell me.” He commanded.

Héctor relayed the night’s events as quickly as he could, his brain already drifting to think about what he’d do the next time he saw Imelda.

“Well congratulations amigo,” Ernesto said after he’d finished roaring with laughter, wiping a tear from his eye. “Your idiot dreams came true after all. But I don’t know what you’re doing back here though, you’ve still got plenty of time to go back her apartment.”

“What?” Héctor asked as he stood, then realized what Ernesto was implying. “No! She’s drunk and exhausted, how could even suggest something like that?”

“I was just kidding, honestly, I was kidding,” Ernesto said, waving off Héctor’s indignant look as he stood and carried his chair back to the kitchen. “But,” he called over his shoulder, “drunk Imelda is probably the only Imelda you’re ever going to have a chance with muchacho, you gotta seize your moment.”

“Don’t be a creep Ernesto, it’s not funny.” Héctor said, rolling his eyes.

It wasn’t until Héctor went to kick off his shoes that he remembered Imelda's lost flat was still lying on the sidewalk somewhere. He jammed his foot back into his shoe and dashed out of the apartment as quickly as he could.

***

Imelda’s head hurt so badly.

She forced her eyes open in a tight squint against the blazing light coming through the closed bedroom curtains. Something shifted near her head and she winced at the jab of pain the slight sound made in her head.

What. Had happened.

Everything was jumbled and messy inside her head as she painfully propped herself up on an elbow. She spotted a bottle of painkillers on her nightstand and flailed out an arm, trying three times before she managed to latch onto the bottle. It took her another minute of struggling before she got the cap off and then managed to dry-swallow the largest dose she knew she could reasonably be safe taking.

She lay back heavily on her pillow, groaning. Pepita rubbed up against her face and Imelda absently scratched at the cat’s ears as she closed her eyes against the light in the room.

“What happened girl?” Imelda asked.

She didn’t remember a thing about the night before. She couldn’t remember being this hungover since...gosh, probably her freshman year at university? It must have been some kind of party, but why would she have been at a party?

He went to move Pepita’s tail from were it was caught against her neck, but came away with a strip of purple and blue cloth in her hand instead. She stared at it for a long, confused moment.

Imelda jolted up in bed, a spike of pain shooting through her skull.

There was a man’s necktie in her bed.

Oh no. No no no.

She threw back the covers to find she was in her black v-neck dress, one of her shoes lost among the covers, the other nowhere to be found.

Her head was pounding, but she dived for her purse where it was sitting on the ground. She fished out her phone, there were five missed calls from Ceci and a barrage of texts.

How was the Christmas party?

Did you have fun?

Meldaaaaa, are you avoiding me?

You better text back hermana, I’m calling the police if I don’t hear from you by eleven.

Don’t test me on this one, pick up. I just want to know you’re safe. <3

The Christmas party! That’s what had happened last night, wasn't it. Imelda glanced at the time, ten-thirty. She typed out a response to Ceci as quickly as she could.

I’m fine I think, just woke up, I’m safe. SUPER bad hangover, I’m blaming you.

Imelda bit her lip as she hit send, looking at the mystery tie lying on her bed like it was a snake. No, she’d try to figure it out before telling Ceci about it.

She stood, and had just picked up the tie when there was a knock at the door. Imelda jumped at the noise, her head ringing. Pepita pricked up her ears and jumped off the bed, trotting out of the bedroom to investigate.

Who on earth would be knocking this early on a Saturday?

Imelda followed the cat down the hallway, quietly padding to the front door and then leaning forward to look through the peephole.

Standing on her doorstep was Héctor Rivera, looking over his shoulder as if he were a little nervous. In one hand he seemed to be holding a mug of what looked a lot like suero, and in the other he was holding...a shoe?

No.

That was her shoe. Her black ballet flat with the rose embroidery.

Imelda choked as she reeled back from the door, looking down at the tie in her hand as a scrap of memory from the night before blurrily resurfaced. The memory of her pulling Héctor down by this very tie, which was horrifyingly too much information, but also far too little.

Imelda moaned quietly, pressing the palms of her hands against her aching eyes, her cheeks feeling like they were on fire with blushing. Why had she gone to the party? Why had she gotten drunk? She wouldn’t have touched a bit of alcohol if she’d known Héctor would be there. She knew her own weaknesses, and she knew that the toused-haired teacher which soft eyes and a softer heart was one of them, she would have been smarter than to get drunk around him.

There was another knock at the door behind her. She grimaced in indecision. Héctor knew what had happened last night, if she ignored him it would only be postponing the inevitable.

“Imelda?” Héctor called through the door, “I’m just checking to see if you’re alright, you, uh, you had a bit of an exciting night.”

Imelda desperately wanted to disappear completely, but the last shred of dignity inside her demanded that she settle this now.

She nearly bit through her own lip in almost tearful frustration as she adjusted her dress, glancing in the hallway mirror to quickly run her fingers through her hair and wipe away the mascara smudged under her eyes. It would have to do.

She jerked open the door, making Héctor jump hard enough to drop her shoe.

“Buenos días!” Héctor said, quickly picking it up again and flashing her one of his stupid, distracting smiles.

Imelda opened the door, silently pointing for him to come in, which he did. She was not going to have this discussion in the open.

“I brought you suero.” Héctor said meekly, offering her the mug when the door was shut behind them. “I figured you’d need it.”

“Rivera, I need you to be completely honest with me.” Imelda said, forcing herself to be every inch his boss, despite being barefoot with her hair down. “Did we...last night...did...”

Héctor’s eyes widened, “No! No no no! Nothing happened, I swear, all I did was walk you home, I promise.”

Imelda said several very harsh things to the part of her that had the nerve to want to feel disappointed at that.

She was a professional.

She was also now vaguely remembering playing with Héctor's hair, and it was making her fingers twitch, but she miraculously managed to maintain her composure.

“I, uh, I don’t suppose you’d like to go to breakfast and talk it over?” Héctor rubbed the back of his neck, and the motion pulled at Imelda’s heartstrings for some reason. “You said some interesting things last night I wouldn’t mind getting some clarification on.”

What did that mean?

Imelda wondered what would happen if she said yes. Wondered what would happen if they did have breakfast together, wondered what she had said the night before, wondered if her vague memory of kissing him was real or imagined. Imelda wondered what it might be like to kiss him when she was sober.

She was suddenly wondering a lot of things.

“I think,” Imelda said slowly, “that if you value your employment that it would probably be best if you forgot anything I may have said while under the influence.”

Héctor nodded, “Of course.”

But he didn’t look nearly as crushed as he should have. In fact, she could have sworn there was still a smile hiding in his expression. She had no doubt in her mind that he absolutely was not about to forget about the night before. Which really wasn’t fair since she couldn’t seem to remember most of it.

Although, more bits and pieces were starting to drift back now, the memory of him humming that song she’d often heard him sing before, of him...carrying her?

“Well, this is for you.” He said, offering her the mug of suero. “And here’s your shoe. It fell off on our way home.”

“Here’s your tie, I think.” She said, trading the strip of cloth for the mug. It would have been rude not to take it. “How did I end up with that?”

“It was already loose and you ah, you wouldn’t let it go when I tried to leave.” Héctor said, a crooked grin on his face.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” Imelda said, pretending she didn’t know perfectly well that she was blushing again. “Thank you for getting me home safely.”

“Anytime.” Héctor said, bowing with a smile. He straightened and looked like he wanted to say something else, but just shook his head and let himself out.

As soon as he’d closed the door behind him Imelda rushed to look through the peephole. Héctor was standing on the other side of the door, hands in his pockets, looking out over the parking lot at nothing in particular. Then he shook his head with a smile, and walked out of her sight.

She could hear him humming something cheerful and upbeat as he walked away.

Imelda let out a long breath and leaned heavily against the door. She sipped quietly at her salty drink, listening to Héctor’s song until it was out of earshot.

Pepita meowed and Imelda looked down to see the cat winding around her bare ankles.

“Alright, let’s get you some food, calm down.” Imelda grumbled, settling back into the headache of death now that she wasn’t distracted anymore.

She was going to feed Pepita, take a very long shower, and then probably a nap while she waited for her hangover to wear off. It was going to be a normal, quiet Saturday at home, and she was not going to dwell on the night before.

Everything would be back to normal on Monday.

But she would never be able to tell Ceci that. Ceci was far too good at telling when Imelda was lying.

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

Aaaaaand we’re back! Hope you enjoyed this extra long chapter for Valentine’s Day, it was supposed to be a summary of their entire dating/breakup history, but lucky for you I’m chronically incapable of doing anything by halves. This means you’ll get more of their dating history over the next few weeks.

This AU just keeps expanding, you lucky ducks.

Be sure to check out the teacher!au AO3 page, this is also where @slusheeduck and I will be organizing all the headcanon and backstory one-shots for the AU we’ve written over the past few months for your reading ease.

Happy V-day! <3

- Wit

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[Au started by @scribblrhob and also heavily added to by @upperstories]

#teacher!au #coco #valentines day #chapter 9 #part 1 #hector #imelda #ernesto #pepita

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