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hopelesshawks · 3 years

Text

Dead Already Part 2

Hawks x gn!reader

So @lilchickie dared me to write a part two to my fic Dead Already where y/n comes back as a nomu. I've been struggling a bit with motivation so I figured what better way to try and get the juices flowing again then by accepting the challenge. This ended up getting quite a bit away from me SO depending on how people feel about this part I'm not 100% sure I'm happy with it but I don't think it's going to get any better at this point

Warnings: discussion of prior main character death, PTSD-style flashbacks, disassociation/depersonalization

General Masterlist Kofi (Help Lulu <;3)

Chrome Extension to replace y/n with your actual name

“Hawks are… are you really ok?”

“Course I am Kid! Why do you ask?”

Tokoyami looks skeptical and concerned, glancing nervously between his mentor, dare he say it his older brother, and the paperwork they’re working on together in his office.

“Where have you been sleeping?” Tokoyami asks by way of answering.

“I’ve got that new apartment downtown, you’ve been there bird brain,” Hawks laughs but it doesn’t assuage his sidekick’s concerns in the slightest.

“Yes but you haven’t been sleeping there have you?”

“You worry too much.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I’m fine, kid.”

“Respectfully Hawks, I don’t believe you. No one would blame you for taking today off.”

There’s a tense moment where both men simply stare at each other and Tokoyami is sure he sees something flash through Hawks’ eyes. Before he can call his mentor out on it the moment is shattered by the phone ringing. The flash of something is gone as quickly as it had come as Hawks ignores Tokoyami again and picks up the phone. “You’re go for the Hawk man, what’s up?” he answers, leaning back in his chair and kicking his feet up on the desk. His face darkens for just a moment before the look vanishes again. “Got it, no problem big man. Tsukuyomi and I will be right there,” he answers with faux nonchalance, already bringing his feet off the desk and having a couple of his feathers bring his jacket to him. He hangs up the phone, rising swiftly. “Endeavor got a lead on the Shadow Brigade, needs back up to bring them in from their compound,” he explains as he pulls on his jacket. “Why would he call you in for this?” Tokoyami asks. “I am the number two Kid, comes with the territory, remember?” Hawks chuckles.

“Who cares what your ranking is? Going after the group responsible on the anniversary of-”

“We’ve got a job to do, Tsukuyomi.”

It’s not the first time Tokoyami has been blown off by Hawks recently.

At first he had been just as relieved as everyone else to see Hawks returning back to normal. But then Tokoyami had returned to the office one night long after his shift had ended, only to find his mentor passed out on top of the Shadow Brigade file, still turned to the pages detailing the fire that had taken your life. He’d assumed at first that the approaching anniversary of your death had been reopening old wounds, but as Hawks otherwise continued as normal, Tokoyami began to suspect that maybe, just maybe, Hawks had never actually returned to normal in the first place. His suspicions are only confirmed as he watches his mentor flying towards the location Endeavor had given them, straight towards the villain group that had burned Hawks’ whole world down around him, on the very anniversary of the horror. As much as Hawks is still presenting as his old, chirpy self, Tokoyami knows he can’t possibly be alright.

The closer they get to the compound the more he can still hear Hawks’ words in his ears.

You should’ve let me burn

“Hawks, did you hear what I said?”

Endeavor’s voice is booming even though he’s speaking in the quieter part of his vocal range just outside the compound he had summoned Hawks and Tokoyami to.

“Totally, but why don’t you hit me with it one more time,” Hawks tells him cheekily, causing Endeavor to roll his eyes heavily. Sometimes he wonders how the flippant young man in front of him is the same one who’d infiltrated the meta liberation front. “The members of the brigade are inside, including a new member with a heteromorphic fire quirk we haven’t previously identified. We think they’re protecting someone or something but haven’t been able to identify what yet. Someone needs to take on them while the others take in the rest of the brigade.”

“I’ll take on the new member.”

Both Endeavor and Hawks’s gazes snap to Tokoyami in surprise.

“Kid, I-”

“I mean your quirk doesn’t make sense against a fire quirk and fighting fire with fire also feels like a mistake so I’ll go,” Tokoyami insists.

Endeavor notes the way the young sidekick and his mentor seem to share a look, although he can’t parse what that look is. Regardless, they’re wasting time standing outside so he swiftly moves the conversation along. “Fine. Let us know if you need backup,” Endeavor nods before swiftly moving towards the building, ending whatever silent conversation the other two may have been having. Although Endeavor was initially nervous about letting a sidekick handle the new brigade member, the mission seems to operate smoothly enough. It doesn’t take him and Hawks long to subdue the original members, the other man operating with a devastating efficiency that Endeavor can’t help but admire. Every move is executed with ruthless precision and once again the older hero finds himself in awe that the carefree man he knows has such a serious side as well when it comes to the work itself. Just as Hawks is about to rush off towards his sidekick, the young man appears. “I’ve got them,” Tokoyami huffs, hoisting someone young with flames where their head and hands should be over his shoulder while Dark Shadow heaves along a familiar looking old man. “Is that-” Hawks starts but Endeavor swiftly cuts him off. “Let’s get these villains detained and then we can interrogate them properly at Tartarus.”

Hawks stares at Dr. Garaki and tries very hard not to think.

Or is it Keigo again now?

He’s not sure in all honesty. He hasn’t felt like Keigo in a long time. In exactly a year actually. But Hawks wouldn’t feel nauseous just looking at the villains he’d brought in for questioning. Hawks wouldn’t be trying desperately hard not to think of what the Shadow Brigade may have been doing with a mysterious new member and the infamous inventor of the Nomu. Hawks wouldn’t be thinking about the suspicious similarities between the new villain’s quirk’s heteromorphic manifestation and Kurogiri.

But he is. He is and no matter how much he hides it from the others, he knows he’s seconds away from doing or saying something he’s going to regret.

So Hawks makes a cheeky joke about being too popular and needing to make a phone call as he steps into the hallway. His hands tremble as he withdraws his phone and dials the number for the HPSC president. He supposes Keigo isn’t quite as dead as he thought because although he fully intended on keeping up appearances over the phone, the minute the president’s voice reaches him down the line, all pretense drops. “Did anything happen when you were transporting their body?” he demands, voice lethal. “I have no idea what you’re referring to Hawks,” the president sighs. “You know exactly what I’m referring to. Did. Anything. Happen?”

There’s another heavy sigh down the line and he can practically see the president pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.

“There may have been a minor incident but everything turned out fine, you had enough going on,” she finally admits.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” he demands, venom in his voice like never before.

“You were in the hospital, remember? Ashes were delivered to the cemetery, that’s all that matters. It’s not like you ever visit the damn place anyway.”

Keigo’s just about to lash out when the precise wording the president used sinks in and suddenly he feels ice cold.

“What did you just say?”

“I said you never vis-”

“No before that. You said ‘ashes were delivered’.”

“Yes, so?”

“You didn’t say the ashes or their ashes. You just said ashes. Did you cremate my partner or not?”

There’s a long silence on the other end and it’s answer enough.

Without consciously making the decision to do so, Keigo’s feet carry him towards where Dr. Garaki is being held. The president is making excuses in his ear but he doesn’t hear any of them. They fade into the background like white noise until he finally hangs up his phone. Endeavor tries to stop him but the words fall on deaf ears as Keigo approaches Dr. Garaki with single minded determination. He doesn’t put his hands on the man, he doesn’t need to, the infamous doctor is already a sniveling mess just at the harsh look in Keigo’s eyes. “What have you done?” Keigo all but growls. “W-well I had just met the brigade and thought it would be such a waste! Your partner was quite smart, y'know. They’re by far one of my best creations!” Garaki whimpers, trying desperately to reassure the angry man in front of him in hopes of leniency. His words only further enrage the hero though, grief and pain and fury creating a storm that even years of HPSC training cannot hold back. “Don’t you dare talk about them like that,” Keigo growls, feathers ruffling in agitation. He’s about to abandon all semblance of protocol and put his hands on the cowardly, whimpering man before him when he’s suddenly being hauled bodily back.

“Don’t Hawks, you need to collect yourself,” Endeavor commands, his flames starting to roar to life in warning. It’s an attempt at authority, trying to command Keigo into submission with a reminder of who in the room is number one, but it’s a mistake. The realization of what you’d been turned into was already jarring enough, peeling back the feeble bandaid Hawks had put on the bulletwound of his grief, but the sight of the flames only makes it worse. Suddenly it’s like he’s right back in that room a year ago and he knows it’s different now, that he isn’t actually there, but his body can’t seem to get the message. Adrenaline burns hot through his veins, his every instinct screaming to go to you, to find you, to save you. Endeavor extinguishes his flames, hands coming up in a placating gesture as his eyes go wide and he realizes what’s happening, but it’s too late. Dark Shadow comes up to wrap around Keigo’s waist but that only agitates him further as the instinctive need to go to you continues to overwhelm all rational thought. He thrashes and writhes in the grasp, wings beating almost violently as Dark Shadow struggles to haul him out of the room.

“Let me go! They need me!” he demands but the grip around him doesn’t ease, even as Tokoyami’s concerned gaze comes into view.

“It’s not real Hawks, you’re not in the house anymore,” Tokoyami explains, sadly but patiently. How naive of him to assume Hawks had truly gotten better. “It’s just a memory, it’s not real.”

It takes several tries of Tokoyami explaining in the calmest voice possible that Keigo is having a flashback for him to finally snap out of it. As he returns to the present, the adrenaline wanes and suddenly he feels tired. So incredibly tired. His eyes meet those of perhaps the one person he is almost as close with as he was you and he collapses. The breakdown he had held off so long punches through him as his emotions overwhelm all the defenses he’d learned growing up. Tears blur his vision and sobs start to wrack his body soon after, as exhaustion and grief and the crushing guilt of knowing he failed you weigh heavy on his shoulders. All of the emotions he had denied himself from the past year rush through him at once while his sidekick kneels in front of him and pulls him into his arms. “It’s ok to not be ok,” Tokoyami whispers to his mentor and it only makes Keigo sob harder.

Because it’s not ok. It may never be. Even after your death he had managed to fail you again, his own selfish grief stopping him from protecting your body and allowing you the peaceful transition to the afterlife you deserved. You’d been twisted and turned into a monster and it was all his fault. It’s too much to feel and process on top of all the emotions he’d been holding back since his release from the hospital.

As Keigo tries and fails over and over again to grasp hold of Hawks and force him back into his body’s driver’s seat, he can’t help but think he much preferred being dead.

General Taglist: @ahtsuwu @oikawaandkuroostan @larkspyrr @oliviasslut @black-rose-29

#hawks #wing hero hawks #hawks x y/n #hawks x reader #keigo takami #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami x y/n #hawks angst #keigo takami angst #mental illness tw #depression tw #disassociation tw #depersonalization tw #hopeless.oneshot

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yandere-mc-yt · 3 years

Note

y’ALL TRYNNA MAKE ME SIN 😩😩😩 I just wanna ask you to write out that prompt with psychic darling, techno and chat soooooo bad because it looks so rndmdjskdjdj 🤌🏾 ✨perfect✨ kdndkdkdkdjdjdjd not me having a brainrot 💀☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️

It's okay! Lets have brainrot together! Also I hope Techno isn't too ooc, I just think he'd be really repressed and awkward in these kind of situations lmao.

Thermae

Technoblade & Mind Reader GN!Reader

Warnings: Yandere Themes, obsessiveness, delusions mentioned, disassociation(?), kidnapping mentioned, Stockholm syndrome implied, animalistic behavior, NSFW, dubcon, size difference, unsafe sex, rough sex, mild painful sex, body worship implied, praise kink, retracted consent, ruined orgasm(?), humiliation kink(?), sex with an audience(?), ooc(?), idk canon inaccuracies probably, gn!deader

♡▪︎♡▪︎♡▪︎♡▪︎♡▪︎♡▪︎♡▪︎♡

pretty!!

EEE E E

shut the hell up some of us want to hear techno think

lovenoblade? technolover? FUCK what are we calling him when he stares at them like that??

shut uuuup

You don't look up from pile of clean clothes you're sifting through, trying to pick out what to wear after your bath. Technoblade staring at you from where he is by the door, not having made a move since he allowed you to enter the room. At least he isn't speaking-

You dropped some rolled up socks. It rolled under the bed and you get on your hands and knees to reach under the bed for it. Suddenly Technoblade is behind you and you yelp cutely-

Suddenly you're moaning softly and bent over on the bed. Your captor's lover's hand is on your hips and he's grinding against you. Your underwear is somehow soaked through and you're whining for Techno to take you. He swiftly tugs off your underwear and-

You look up at Technoblade, who looks back at you, acknowledging your attention. You looked cross. "Just because you're not thinking in words, doesn't mean I can't see what you think, Techno."

OOOOOO

oh noooo lmao

LOL imagine getting caught like that couldn't be us

rip

damn I wanted to see how bad this fantasy would have been

"Sorry-"

"Sorry," Techno says out loud as he takes his eyes off of you. You sigh as you toss the clothes yoy want onto the bed and stuff the rest back into the drawers. You'll fix that later if he doesn't get to it first. At least he had the gall to feel some bit of shame.

You turn your body to him and shrug. "It's whatever.... let's just go take a bath before bed."

You ignore how another brief flash of lewd thoughts and fantastical scenarios pass through his mind as you move past him towards the bathroom he had built for you. You also ignore the teasing from the Chat about how the piglin hybrid's home definently didn't have a place to bathe before and that he is a "stinky pig boy" and "stinknoblade". You didn't want to thank him but you felt like you had no choice because honestly.... he made you a custom bathroom that looked like it belonged in a palace. It had felt rude not to thank him, despite these circumstances.

You inhale the steam of the luxious looking bathroom and put your clothes down on a small side table near the massive walk in tub of hot water. You had moved over to the edge and was going to take off your shirt when the anxious boot clacking of your keeper reminded you that you were unfortunately not alone. You click your tongue back at him as you glance back at him. He looks away like he always does and you practically rip your clothes off before getting in.

He looks again when he doesn't hear the water sloshing around anymore. His expression is unreadable but you can hear what he's thinking.

"So pretty lovely looks soft smells good fuck- cute.... I wonder if you'll like the soap I got this time. Its peonies."

You hum as you sink a bit lower in the water, trying to hide your coloring cheeks.

"Yeah, I think peonies smell good." Technoblade makes a face and you have to swallow your smile. "Thanks- now get in here. I want this to be over with."

He nods mutely as he starts to undress and this time its your turn to look away. You sigh as you feel the water move and flinch when you feel his heat on your backside. He isn't even touching you yet.

ugh why is he waiting for permission again

lol whats with the gentleman act

dude they're literally already used you doing this get it over with

y'all better shut up this is like character development or something

i wanna touch they look all soft agaiiin

oooo yea!! touch them

Omgeee body worship kink??

touch them

TOUCH THEM

You let out a shaky sigh and turn around and make eye contact. He has the soap in one hand and the sponge you like in the other. You stand up in the water and exposed yourself to him. Its incredible difficult to ignore the way his pupils dialate when you're still making eye contact.

HOLY COW

isn't it too warm in here for (Y/N)'s nipples to get hard??

NAKED POG

oh my god You know they're practically begging for it now....

Techno swallows audibly and practically slams the bar of soap into the sponge, making an audible wet noise and aggressively lathers them together, looking away again. It makes you jump a bit but you don't say anything. Neither of you do and you almost prefer it that way. Once the sponge has been violently soaped up enough he starts washing you. You don't move and he doesn't stop on any part pf your upper half. It made you think of those old erotic stories of royalty being bathed by a personal servant. You didn't like it.

.....Right now you really wish you two were capable of being normal. Or that any part of your relationship was.

After your front and back have been scrubbed down, you quickly dip back into the water amd rinse yourself off. You look down at your body in the water and hum as you see another fleeting fantasy go past Technoblade's mind.

You're touching him, hands simply on his chest and pressed close to him. You're looking up at him frightened anxiously for a moment before moving away and wading towards the little shelving around an edge in the bathing pool. You flush as you climb onto it and sit. You spread your legs-

You look up at him for a split moment before looking away. You feel shakey and sick, kind of like you're about to throw up. Your gut twists and you press your thighs together on instinct. Shit.

No.

"No-" You swallow as you completely turn your back to Techno. You hear the water move a bit as you assume he's straightening up, you know he's looking directly at you. He's thinking too fast for you to properly hear his thoughts and you refuse to tune into what the Chat is saying right now.

You need to think-

You're on top of him in one of his blouses. Its so big on you but you like it and you liked the way Techno looked at you when you wore it. Technoblade's hands were on your hip and you scoff becuase you didn't want it there. You flushed a bit and took one of them with your fingers and moved it underneath the blouse to your bare stomach. You could feel the way your lips stretched into a goofy smile when he somehow flushed darker than you and his pupils blew up. It actually made you laugh a little. It felt like a little victory. The hand still on your hip twitched.

"I uh..." You bite your lip between your grin. "I like it when your hands are here. They're so warm and they make me feel good sometimes."

He stares and you can hear his thoughts.

"... Makes me feel safe...... so please..."

You blink back the tears but can't stop the shudder and whimper that comes from that memory. Technoblade stands behind you as you realize where you are now. You're stand before the pool shelving and its like your stomach folds in on itself as you whine and stumble back in the water, bumping into him. You both flinch from the sudden skin to skin contact and you feel the overwhelming urge to start wailing.

Technoblade makes a noise as if he's taking a deep breath and you know its over. You pull away from him as soon as his has touches your shoulder, bumping roughly into the shelving. With a grimace, you climb up onto the shelving and spread your shakey legs.

You can't even catch his thoughts whwn he freezes up and the Chat roars.

Holyshitholyshit holySHIT

BRO???

ANOTHER WIN FOR THE HORNY THOUGHTS LETS GOOOOO

Fuck this is so hot what the fuck fuck babe

The cooler water that resides at the edges splash out of the tub and against your backside from the force of him moving so suddenly. Technoblade makes a noise as he hovers over you. His clawed hands grip the edges of the pool so hard you can hear the wood creak. He doesn't say anything as you try to meet his eyes. Visions of all the ways he wants to fuck you right here flash through his mind and it makes you want to close your legs. You end up pressing your thighs against his and you both gasp.

You bite your lip. "Soap." He blinks dumbly and you almost change your mind about all of this. "The scentless soap," you try to clarify. "I need to prep myself."

The Chat chatters loudly as Techno moved away. You close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath as he returns to the water and reslots himself between your legs. You take the bottle from him and try to get comfortable as he uncomfortably stares directly at your groin. Already used to this scenario, you tune him out as you pop the bottle open and pour the slick substance onto yourself. You then put the bottle to the side and slide your hand down.

This isn't the first time you've had to stretch yourself (especially since your sexual partner couldn't- not with those sharp fingertips) and far from the first time you've taken the Blade so your fingers slip in with little resistance. You shudder and remind yourself to hate how he ruined you as you skip adding a second finger and go straight for three.

You hear the creak of the wood on the edge of the pool again but ignore looking up or at Technoblade as you keep fingering yourself until you're sure you're done. As soon as your fingers were out, his cock was slapped against your inner thigh. You yelp and look up at him.

He looks down at you as he finally puts his hands on you. You hiss when he drags your ass against the shelving to pull you closer.

"Sorry-" he thinks before opening his mouth to say it out loud, but you interrupt him. You grab him by the forearm as he has your thighs and lean foward a bit, biting your lip. You suck in a breath before letting out a whine.

"Shut the fuck up- stop fucking thinking and fuck me baby."

Being so used to hearing other's people thoughts without tuning them out (even now in these current times with everything Technoblade this accursed SMP has put you through), you aren't prepared to be sp overwhelmed by whatever the hell happens in your captor's head that makes you blackout for a moment. Its like you blink and whatever sexually charged energy you had before is replaced with fear.

Somewhere in the milliseconds after you said those words, Technoblade pushed you back roughly against the shelving and the edge of the pool and was now almost balls deep inside of you. You feel the pain blossoming against the back of your head apart of your back and yelp when you feel him fill you up oh so fucking good.

Its too much.

"Tech-" You make an ugly noise as he thrusts deeper somhow. Fuck- too much.

Whatever you were trying to get out is lost on your tongue as he starts fucking into you with total abandon. Its so good and bad and great and uncomfortable and painful-

The force of his movements rocks you into the edges of the pool and makes the cooled off water splash around and hit you in the face. You've let go of his arms, instead trying to brace yourself against the shelving the best you can with no way to get a proper grip. All you can do is whine and gasp.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry fuck"

"(Y/N)," comes out in a growl and you whimper. You don't know when he leaned closer. Technoblade's tusk scratch the junction between your jaw and neck. You take this opportunity to grab onto him again and moan high.

He rocks hard into you and its so much better now- fuck you can feel every inch of him. It makes you pull yourself closer to him and sob.

"Techno- Techno Techno Techno," he groans low and licks a hot strip against your neck. You breifly wonder if he's licking sweat off or left over water that was dripping down from the bath you were having a few minutes ago. You don't wonder much longer as you feel the twist in your gut from earlier tighten. You sob again.

"No no no no no," you gasp as you hold on tighter and he gets rougher. "Fuck, Techno baby please please please..."

Miraculously, the beast hears your prayers but he doesn't slow down. He pulls back and pushes you away completely. You almost don't catch yourself against the pool's edge. He's still in you for amoment more before pulling out with a wince and you cry out.

You feel dissatisfaction start to replace the lust in your head but its quickly snuffed out when Technoblade grabs you and flips you over on the shelving. He shoves you hard onto your knees with your elbows over the edge as he reenters you from behind and you shout. The change in position, depth and temperature catch you completely off guard and interupts the flow. You don't feel as aroused as you were before. You're sore.

"T-Techno?" You try to turn around to look back at him but he hits something deep inside of you hard. You put a knuckle between your teeth. "Techno? Techno please it hurts now please Techno!"

He gets even rougher and you yelp when your knees hit the wall of the pool. A shadow is cast over you and water from Technoblade's body drips down onto you as he goes full throttle and rails you like this. Fuck.

"Techno Techno Techno please love-" you manage to get out before his thrusts take your voice away. You're belly feels warm again and you sob a bit defeated. You're heads clear again and you cry as your mind races. You can't hear his thoughts properly even now- too jumbled up in the midst of him borderline mindlessly fucking you. You however can hear the Chat clearly once again. It makes your gut twist disgustingly deliciously.

Fuck baby you're doing so good

while crying is sexy can you plz go back to making those cute noises k thanx

they're not enjoying it anymore don't be fucking rude :/

Roughnoblade /neg

(Y/N) oh poor baby they're crying!!

Techno you're being too rough damn bitch

hey you're okay love you're okay plz don't cry....

Gods we're so sorry but you DO look so fucking hot like this

fuck I bet you're going to bruise so nice

Yeah techno is going to be staring at them until they heal up lmao

You bite your lip and just take it until that twisted feeling snaps and you cum like this. Techno rides out your orgasm before you feel him get bigger (or you tightned in discomfort) and he spills into you. You whimper when he pulls out and you feel the hot cum start to slide out of you. Unfortunately for you, your lover doesn't leave you bent over the cold bathing pool's edge like that for howver long you wished to and readjusts your limp form before he finishes cleaning you. You sniffle as he takes ypu out of the water and bundles you up in the softest towel he has.

"It hurt." You said simply and Technoblade glances up at where he was now kneeling by your legs, helping you put on your underwear. He looked almost guilty.

"I'm sorry," he says softly.

"G̸̨͍͍̮͙̝͍̲̾͆̌̅̓̾̕Ȏ̵̡̡̳̣̟͕͍͍̘̱͗͝͝Ô̸̪̯̰̅͗͠D̷̟̘̦͕̼͈̻̏͗̋̂̿̔̕͘," he thinks.

You wonder if he still hopes you don't hear him.

#anon ask #yandere technoblade #yandere dsmp #dsmp smut #dsmp smutshot

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milkyway-writes · 3 years

Text

i’m not ready for that s.r.

pairing: Steve Rogers x black!Reader (anyone could read though)

summary: Even though Steve has been living in modern times for a couple of years now, he still finds himself not used to the present, especially when it comes to women. But when he meets you, an outspoken girl who completely embodies the kind of woman “he’s not ready for,” Steve is forced to reevaluate what he wants.

warnings: 18+, explicit language, dry humping, unprotected sex, sex in a hotel room, a small age gap (but not mentioned much), probably some typos and/or bad grammar, disregard for card games and 60′s music

word count: 2,828

author’s note: This is my first time writing a fic! So, tell me what you think and if you’d like more stuff from me.

After waking up in a world filled with people dressed in unfamiliar clothing, using confusing language, and carrying around these tiny devices they called “phones,” Steve experienced the expected amount of disassociation. He said things which earned him weird looks, struggled to understand modern references, and sometimes secretly wished he could just go back to his own time.

But if anything, Steve Rogers was determined.

He kept a notepad to track the new things he learned and reviewed them in his spare time. He made an effort to listen to the radio and watch popular TV shows. Steve even managed to tailor his wardrobe to a certain degree. Except for the khakis. The khakis were essential.

Despite his acclimation and newfound understanding of the 21st century, Steve still struggled with women. And in all honesty, he doesn’t even feel that open to dating. He’s completely content with simply working and living his life, romance not much of a priority of his.

But Natasha keeps pushing it.

“What about that girl from accounting?” she says, “Laura, Lisa…”

"Lillian,” Steve answers, “lip piercing, right?"

"Yeah, she's cute."

"Yeah, I'm not ready for that.”

•••••

So, when you show up with a total disregard for authority, a smile that could fool the devil, and a snarky attitude all complete with a cute little nose piercing, Steve doesn’t quite know what to do with you.

Your words are much bolder than any woman he knew from the 40’s. You behave with a certain level of confidence and self-assuredness that it’s impossible to believe that you’re only in your twenties. And you don’t shy away from showing men up, never one to hold your tongue. Steve notices that you don’t mind interrupting people. You seem to get a glint in your eye each time he clenches his jaw after you’ve cut him off.

Everything about you is overwhelming to Steve.

Any time he tries to correct you, you scoff, blowing air through your plump lips. Always rolling those brown eyes in annoyance. (It makes Steve want to scream.)

Nothing is ever easy with you. There is always a rebuttal, or some type of teasing remark, or simply a look that tells him “you can’t tell me what to do.” It enrages him. Steve doesn’t think he has ever met a person who could find a way to fight him on every single thing.

Now, as he looks at you standing with your hands on your hips, freshly-manicured nails on display, Steve wonders how he’ll ever manage to get through to you.

•••••

You hadn’t known much about Captain America before you’d agreed to work with him and Natasha when S.H.I.E.L.D. started falling apart.

You had been working for the agency for a while now, assisting in the capture of criminal individuals as a sort of immunity for your own crimes. Your skills were too valuable to waste, and honestly, they knew you’d escape any prison they put you in anyway. Despite this, you weren’t the most reliable.

You often took risks, and your youth raised a sort of concern amongst other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. No one trusted a girl whose main motivation to be an agent was to avoid prison. And because of this, Nick Fury did not bring you on for the Avengers Initiative right away. You needed time to grow, time to figure out your priorities.

For two years, you focused on your development, learning how to control your abilities and use them most effectively, and in the meantime, you only took on small missions. You were happy with this, so happy that when Fury began reaching out to you with the intent to bring you back on for more advanced missions, you promptly avoided them.

One quiet afternoon, you were feeling the soil of your succulent, trying to figure out if the plant needed watering when you got the call that Nick Fury was pronounced dead.

Immediately, your stomach dropped.

Your mind was racing as you rushed to the hospital, hoping that this was all some sick joke. A test. Something Fury had comprised to teach you a lesson.

Natasha noticed as you stood frozen at the door of the hospital room. Your heart ached seeing him lie there lifeless.

While you pretended that you didn’t care about him, Fury had always been important to you. He had given you a second chance when you didn’t even think you deserved it. He saw potential in you when others saw you as a delinquent. This grief, coupled with the knowledge that S.H.I.E.L.D. had been compromised, led you to agree to work with Natasha and her new friend, Steve Rogers.

•••••

Since the beginning, your presence had been an immediate concern to Steve. Along with your untamed attitude, he didn’t like the way you would make hasty decisions that left him wondering if you were still alive. He had to bite his tongue at your stubbornness. And each roll of your eyes pushed Steve further and further to the edge. After a while, he had had enough and pulled you to the side to express his disapproval.

You stare at him expectantly with your hands still on your hips, waiting to hear why he’s singled you out.

He lets out a breath, “these antics of yours have got to stop.”

You instantly laugh. Because he has to be kidding.

It takes everything in him to remain calm when you flash him a smile and saunter away, throwing a “oh loosen up, Captain,” over your shoulder.

He has to stop himself from watching your hips sway. He catches your wrist. “No. Not ‘loosen up.’ You need to be more responsible.”

“Well you need to understand that I’m not a soldier,” you yank your arm back. “I’ll follow your plan,” you offer, “but sometimes things don’t go as planned and we have to make adjustments,” you say, speaking slowly as if Steve’s a child.

He steps closer, now towering over your small frame. “Your ‘adjustments’ almost always result in dangerous situations.”

“Really?” You cock your head to the side, “Is that right?”

He narrows his eyes at you.

“So, this is coming from the man who jumped out of an elevator?” Your perfectly arched eyebrow raises tauntingly. “Right?”

You chuckle as he rolls his eyes. You don’t miss the hint of a smile in them.

•••••

You do eventually try to be more of a team player, sticking to the plan when you can. You figured you’d be working with them more often, so it was in your best interest to make yourself easy to work with. Your efforts don’t go unnoticed.

Steve is grateful that you don’t pull any surprises when the Winter Soldier makes his attack. The revelation that it was his best friend already enough to throw him off.

Surprisingly, when Steve decides to go after Bucky, you offer to join him and Sam. Your excuse being that you don’t trust two men to get the job done.

Honestly, you just didn’t want to go back to your life before. Working with Steve was exciting. He was exciting. The way he’d catch your eyes after you’d say something snarky made your stomach flip because there was a hint of a threat in them.

You enjoyed the way he wasn’t afraid to touch you. He liked to grab your arm and pull you to him when you didn’t listen. He’d once backed you up against a wall when he thought you weren’t telling him the full story pertaining to the mission. And while he was angry, you couldn’t help wondering what it’d be like to have him take you right then and there.

You had come to terms with the fact that you wanted Steve Rogers. You just didn’t know if he’d want someone like you. You were aware that he probably hadn’t encountered many women like you in his past life.

•••••

While your eye rolls and sassy comments do remain, Steve finds himself enjoying your presence despite himself. The struggle between the two of you slowly morphing into playful teasing, teetering the line between that and sexual tension.

“How’d you end up here anyway?” Steve asks as he lays down an ace of spades.

You grimace and tuck your king of hearts back into your hand in embarrassment. “We’re on a mission, silly.” You giggle, the diamond in your nose catching the light.

“Mhm very funny,” he says. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

You don’t say anything. The only sound coming from your breathing and the Solomon Burke song that’s playing through your phone speaker.

You hum along as you pretend to search your hand for a card to play.

Steve nudges your knee. You’re not sure if it’s because you haven’t answered him or because you still haven’t put down a card.

“You mean how’d I end up doing this? Working for S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

He nods.

“It’s a long story,” you manage to let out.

“We’ve got time.”

You sigh and place your cards down on the mattress knowing you were gonna lose anyway.

“A while back, I lost someone…someone very important to me,” you say, “and all I wanted was to hurt the people who took them from me.” You glance up to meet Steve’s eyes, “one thing led to another, and I sort of lost myself. I hurt people in ways I never intended to, caused the kind of pain that,” you search for the words, “that I had always been so afraid to feel.”

“I was so blinded by rage,” you shake your head, “I just completely forgot my morals.”

You feel the bed shift, and Steve reaches out for your hand.

“Long story short, Fury offered me a job. Said I could use my skills for good. And next thing you know I’m going on these crazy missions and catching ‘bad guys,’” you say using finger quotes.

You sigh, “you must think the absolute worst of me now, huh?”

Steve chuckles, “no, not at all.” He pauses and his eyebrows crease. “It actually makes me respect you more.”

You let out a laugh, “well then, sir, you are most definitely twisted.”

He shrugs, “maybe I am.”

You notice that he never let go of your hand, and for a second you swear you feel a flutter in your abdomen. Lightly, you slide your fingers up his arm, tracing the veins. He doesn’t move or protest. Instead, he brings his other hand to rest on your knee. You look up at him as his hand moves from your knee up your thigh, gripping you firmly where your shorts end.

Steve looks at you for approval, and when you nod, he pulls you in by your hips and leans in, letting his lips ghost over yours.

You haven’t felt like this in awhile, and it takes a lot of strength to hold back a whine. Steve continues to tease you, only letting his lips lightly touch yours while rubbing circles into your hips under your shirt. Impatiently, you link your hands together behind his head, and when you grasp the hair at the nape of his neck, Steve finally leans in, letting his lips press against yours.

Almost instantly, you climb onto his lap, straddling him. The playing cards from earlier are hastily pushed aside as Steve scoots back, bringing you with him.

His hands find your hips again as he sucks on your bottom lip. You softly grind into him, causing Steve to groan into your mouth. He works to control himself. He hadn’t expected it to feel this way with you. So desperate, so needing.

You can feel his hardness through the material of his sweatpants, making your arousal even more apparent.

Steve leans down to kiss your neck. The feeling of his tongue makes you buck your hips, searching for some type of friction. His hand travels up your side and comes to cup one of your breasts. He runs his thumb over your nipple, feeling it harden.

This must give him an idea as he moves to pull your shirt over your head. He grabs you again and takes your nipple in his mouth. You moan, continuing to grind onto him as his hands cup your ass. At this point, you’re sure that your arousal is leaking through your shorts.

Steve feels completely lost in you, your body setting him on fire and awaking something within him he doesn’t think he’s ever felt before.

He continues his assault on your breasts as you fight to control your arousal. You feel his cock twitch under you. “Please, Steve,” you say breathlessly.

“Please what?” He mumbles around your breasts.

“I need you.”

Those seem to be the words he needed as Steve promptly flips you over, roughly yanking your shorts down. He tosses his shirt off as you grab onto the waistband of his pants, urging him to take them off. He pushes you back on the bed, leaning over you. You feel his knee press into your cunt and let out a moan.

Steve grabs your face, kissing you sloppily, and trails his hand down your body. You nearly grind onto his hand as he places his thumb over your clit and rubs slow circles over it.

“You like that, honey?” He teases as he rubs you over your panties.

You nod, biting your lip.

He grabs your chin, “I said do you like it? Answer me.”

You cry out, “yes, Steve yes,” You whimper, “please I need more.”

He scoffs, “who would’ve thought to get you to act right, I’d just have to play with this pretty pussy?”

You let out a pitiful whine.

“Now you wanna be a good girl huh?”

You’re afraid you’re going to cum just from his words when he stops and drags your panties down so slowly that you want to scream. The smug look on Steve’s face makes your face burn. He’s enjoying this too much.

Once they’re off, Steve settles between your thighs, making you look him in the eyes before reaching his hand down and dragging the head of his cock from your folds to your clit. You moan as he gently taps it against your clit a few times and makes a comment about how wet you are. There’s a hint of a smirk on his face as he lines himself up at your entrance. Steve groans as he eases into you. You wrap your legs around his waist, encouraging him to go deeper.

He bottoms out, and you both moan. Steve begins to thrust, and you’re already so worked up that you know you won’t last long. He brings his hand down to rub your clit causing you to cry out.

His thrusts become more forceful. Your eyes close tightly, your sharp nails digging into his shoulders. He leans his forehead against yours, “I know you want it, sweetheart. I know you wanna cum.”

His words shock you but send a wave of pleasure straight to your core.

“Come on, honey, cum for me.” Steve says as he thrusts into you. Your walls spasm around his cock, causing him to groan into your neck. He never lets up on his thrusts though, continuing to slam into you as your first orgasm ripples through your body.

“You feel so good around my cock, baby,” he brings a hand up to lightly wrap around your neck.

You groan in response feeling your abdomen tighten once again.

You can tell Steve is close now, his thrusts becoming frantic and rushed. You clutch onto him as the sounds of slapping skin fill the room. Your name falling off of his lips repeatedly in your ear.

“Cum inside me, Steve,” you plead, “I wanna feel you.” He groans at your words, and you feel his hand tighten around your throat. You look at him, and his eyes are dark with lust, you feel yourself clench around his length. The look he’s giving you fills you with a primal need. You plead one more time, pushing Steve over the edge. His thrusts begin to slow, the feeling of him filling you up is enough to bring about another orgasm.

You find it difficult to keep your eyes open. Sleep begins to take you, and you drift off with Steve guiding you to lay your head on his chest.

With one hand caressing the side of your head, Steve stares up at the ceiling of the hotel room, Nina Simone’s voice floating out of your phone.

“It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life for me,”

“And I’m feeling good.”

•••••

Initially, seeing a girl like you would have made Steve doubt himself.

But now, he knows he’s ready for you as he sits next to you holding your hand as you prepare to get your first tattoo.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader angst #steve rogers x black!reader #black reader #steve rogers #captain america #marvel #marvel x reader #captain america x reader #enhanced!reader #steve rogers x enhanced!reader #captain america smut #chris evans

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ofmythsandmadness · 3 years

Text

to be called beautiful | d.h.

❛ do you ever miss, having someone around to love you?❜

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

SUMMARY: vigilantes!au. you push the boundaries of your relationship, and ask for a wish you know won't be given back. (or — it's late, and after another night of patrol, loneliness sets in deep.) WARNINGS: slightly nsfw??? mentions to sex, no descriptions. it's not a sexual story, just a part of an inner monologue. WORD COUNT: 2.6k+ NOTES: reposting this in hopes it shows up this time (pls pls pls i'm gonna cry). i've been writing a whole other series that is a totally different writing style, but i've been trying to work out my emotions in small, focused pieces like this one when i can't focus. i might develop this into a small ficlit series of it's own, bc i think it's kinda fun — but we'll see how this goes.

THE BEAST THAT IS YOUR LONELINESS has been your burden for too long to say.

It's hold on you is a familiar ache, one you've felt for years, like a chronic tight tugging on your heart that refuses to give in no matter what you try. But you still refuse to name it for fear of coming to terms with the implications of it all. That you're really alone in this life and you're terrified of what that means and the fact that you can't have what your childhood stories promised would be yours.

Like the fool you are, you cling to the idea that it's just passing notions. You'll get over it one day. The flitting daydreams of a fairytale romance better fit for a vanilla Hallmark flick suck, but one day they won't hurt so bad. You'll numb and find a way to fill the void. And you try, you really do, pushing it down for the quick release of meaningless acts and walks of shames and cold bedsheets.

Sex is a toxic friend. You choose it's pull when your heart aches most and the loneliness begs for your breath to the point where every gasp of air is a privilege, not the bare minimum. It's not what you crave. There's no romance, no love. It's a trade and one that always leaves you feeling robbed of something you're not sure you ever even had.

You rarely remember their names. You know they probably won't remember yours. And why would they? The shudders, the whimpers, the cold moans that amount to nothing but crumbs of a supposedly passionate act only pass an hour, then they're gone. Or you're gone, if you're lonely enough to risk it. A bit of fun, a breath of pink and white and the feeling of someone pulling you closer, begging for your skin against theirs.

And then, it's all grey again. And you're alone at your apartment, washing your body free of the marks some stranger dared to press into your wilting skin, wondering what it would feel like for a lover to kiss you that same way. Running your fingers over every inch that has been caressed by so many faceless guests, trying to hold yourself in the way your foolish heart pounds for. But it's never enough. Your hands don't cup your flesh, don't mould and kiss and promise the carefully knitted lies any lover had dealt you in the past. And you're as cold as ever when they fall back to your sides. Nothing enflames your skin like you wishes it could — like those you wish would.

It's a discontent you live with. Just as you're sure millions of others do. That's what life is; you push yourself through the day, through your mundane day job and your taxing nighttime hobbies (because you sure as hell can't claim what you do as real work if your only pay is in blood and tears). You cling to the good times that happened too long ago to remember clearly, and make the moments that you're alone with your thoughts as small as possible.

But there's no time to consider all that now.

You scrunch your face up as tight as you can, squeezing your eyes shut to the point where you see stars, exploding like confetti in some absurd black void that hides behind your lids. For a moment you hold the pose, watching the stars erupt, until the position hurts too much and you have to release.

Surroundings blur and then clear as your eyes readjust from their disassociation. You stare blearily at the random coffee shop you and your 'associate' chose for the night. It's just as generic as the last five visited, a thousand shades of brown and red and weary smiles the bored baristas wear just for a cheap check that'll barely cover their asses. It's worn and empty; no one's hear except the two of you and the workers who probably hate you for being here so late.

Normally, you would feel like an asshole staying so late. But you can't bring yourself to move, or even suggest to. It's all too heavy. And even if it's in brooding silence, you don't want to leave your partner. Not yet, you beg the universe, just a few more minutes.

And, speaking of—

"What's got you so blue today?"

You blink. Look over to him, only to see him already watching you.

There's really no point lying. He always unravels you too quickly, too easily — it's the detective in him, unravelling anyone and scooping their truths from shivering flesh. Some sort of childhood trauma response he developed into another super power.

You used to hate it. Now...if you concentrate hard enough, his sharp gaze feels like one of a lover's.

"Don't know what you mean," you tell him, foolish and flustered. "I'm just fine."

"Bullshit. You've sighed a dozen times in the last five minutes."

"Tch. No I haven't."

"Did too!"

His teeth glint, white and clashing against the full pink of his lips. You wish you could denounce all the times you wondered what it would feel like to have them graze against your keening skin — but not even all the gods could cleanse of you of those thoughts. Those desperate, pleading, melancholic memories stain; he can't see them, but you do when you look close enough. And you can't escape it, much as you try.

"Seriously, though. What's up with you?"

Your gaze falls down to your hands, eager to escape his allure, though it's not a great distraction. It only makes you more bitter, really, taking in all the flaws that litter your weaponised limbs. They're calloused from a million fights. Your knuckles are scarred, aching from wounds you reopen every other night. A thousand scars from a thousand scrapes, cuts, slashes and grazes linger on once perfect skin. You don't know how many there are, anymore, only that you wish you could wipe them off. Start over, have a clean slate. Erase all your mistakes and be beautiful again.

"I'm just tired," you lie. It's tense and pitiful; you know you've screwed it up the second the words leave your lips. "S'all."

"Ri-i-ight, and I'm the goddamn queen of England."

The absurdity of his retort makes your lips twitch. It's not enough for a smile, your self-inflicted misery makes sure of that, but it's a seed of something. "Wow. Didn't know I was in the presence of royalty."

"Yeah, yeah. Shut it."

"My apologies, your highness."

"Shut up, you little shit," he grumbles, but it's as soft as you get from him. It's practically a cry of love — or your foolish mind paints it as such. You take his teasing insults as promises of adorations and his arguments are poems of lust and infatuation that tug on your heartstrings in ways you know they shouldn't.

You're partners, for crying out loud. Professional coworkers (if you call the bloody mess you two create work). You don't get to miss him, or crave him, or love him like you do.

"Something happen to you?"

You watch his own hands fold and unfold on the table. The long, delicate fingers stand out on a man like him; someone who paints himself in only sharp angles and cutting lines. But you think they match him well. They promise life. Bleed hope, even in the raised scars that lace his skin like your own. You've watched those fingers grip a blade, launch it into flesh, pull and push and dig and rip and take and committed acts of atrocity most people would run from. You know he probably thinks of his hands the same way you do. But you think they're beautiful.

"Nah. It's...it's nothing. Really."

You can't see his face, but you imagine his narrowed eyes and furrowed brows asking for an answer you're just not willing to give. "C'mon, just tell me. Can't be that bad."

Your body laughs. You hear it from some place far away. It's cold and hoarse; you wonder how long it's been since you've heard a genuine laugh from yourself. You wonder if he notices (and wishes he did, foolishly, frivolously...).

It's probably stupid, but you go for it.

"You ever miss having someone?"

Something creaks; his chair, groaning as he shifts his weight. One of his fingers taps against his empty coffee cup; idle music for a restless soul.

"Like, in what way?"

"I..." Your nails dig into your palms. This was a mistake, but one you have to follow through with. He won't accept silence after something like that. "In the cheesy, domestic sorta way? That whole, havin' someone to come home to, someone who you can talk to, someone who..." the words stick like molasses in the back of your throat. Try as you do, they refuse to give themselves to him, so you have to substitute. "Just, someone who likes you, past your body or, or whatever."

"Oh."

"Sorry." It's your turn to shift in your seat, awkwardly searching for something to occupy yourself with as this uncomfortable energy you've created carries on. But your cup's empty, and you don't have the cash to ask for another overpriced latte. "Forget about it. Let's talk about somethin' else, yeah?"

He doesn't answer that. In fact, he doesn't say anything at all for a moment, long enough to make you wonder if you've just crossed the line of no return. You can't bring yourself to look at him, hell your cowardice is painful enough to make you wonder if you should just make a run for it, say au revoir! to the bond you've built with this knife-obsessed robin hood and crush your heart forever.

It's tempting, and you consider it, but then he fills the silence.

"I miss Eudora sometimes."

Finally, your gaze tilts up. Your eyes meet his lips. He's not smiling anymore.

You guys don't talk about exes together. It's a forbidden topic, same as family or childhoods or the number of people that have cut you open and bled you dry for fun. It's too personal, and in this line of work, personal doesn't fly. But you know Eudora Patch, because this line of work requires a couple run ins with people like her, and because your partner in crime has never learned how to stop his emotions from bleeding into his expression.

"Not because I still love her, but y'know..." his fingers wave aimlessly. "It was nice, when it worked. I liked having someone to sleep with. In a non-sexual manner." His lip curls a little. "Guess the sex part was nice too, though."

You nod. "Yeah, I get that. It's...it was nice, having someone who knew you. Who wanted to make you feel good, not just for themselves but 'cause that sort of things matters."

"Mm."

"Y'ever consider pursuing that sort of thing?"

He shakes his head. His adamancy is a truck smashing into your heart — though you know you should have expected no less, it still hurts. "I can't. It never works, with people like us. Y'know?"

"Yeah. Makes sense." You want to say more. You probably should say more — but you doubt he wants to hear your woes about intimacy, and the pathetic ways you crave affection you probably don't deserve. "Yeah."

"Why?"

"Hm?"

His brows knot. "Why're you asking? Someone do somethin'?"

"What? No."

"Cause, like, if someone's hurt you, I'll—"

"I'm fine," you promise, and without thinking, you reach across the table to pat his hand. To reassure him like one would a lover. But just before your fingers meet his, the bitter reminder that he's not yours sets in and you draw back. Your hand falls a couple inches from his own. "And I can take care of myself, if I wasn't. Don't worry."

He chuckles mirthlessly. "Y'sure about that? You're still the dumbass that tripped over her own feet twice walking down an empty sidewalk, and—"

"—oh, you are such an asshole, why can't you just—"

"—so if you need someone to cut a bitch, I'm available."

You soften slightly. Try to smile, even if it's a false promise and probably hangs like a broken door on mismatched hinges. "I appreciate that. But I'm okay. Think I'm just tired, and a little lonely."

"What, I'm not good enough for you anymore?"

Bitterness seeps onto your tongue; it speaks before you can shut your lips around it. "You're fine as a partner against crime. But you're not anything otherwise, are you?" It feels like a taunt. You hadn't meant it to be — though, maybe you had.

If he takes your jeer poorly, though, it doesn't show on his face. He's still smiling and watching you, eyes simmering with a joke you wish you were in on.

"It doesn't matter though. Having someone's too complicated, 'specially for fools like us. Sometimes it's just..." you don't have a good answer. Not one he'd want to hear, anyways. "I just miss it sometimes. It'd be nice to have someone to talk to, or eat breakfast with in the mornings."

He nods slowly. "Yeah. Was nice, having another body around."

"Yeah. Ha. I," you stutter out a chuckle. Tug at your lip, nibbling at the cracked skin that comes with your long nights. "No one prepares you for how lonely adulthood is. Like, I'm half tempted to make friends with the takeout guys, just so I have a friend at all."

"We're friends."

"You know what I mean," you mumble, swallowing the bitter 'are we?' that almost makes its way off your tongue. "It was just nice when I had the time, to have a person around. Someone to like, hold hands with, or-or call me beautiful, sometimes. I-I can't remember the last time called me that, any..."

Fuck.

You hadn't meant for that last confession.

He wasn't supposed to hear that. It's too personal, too personal, too fucking personal for someone you don't even know.

Everything trembles; you're shaking like an avalanche, ready to sweep it all away under some snow drift. Never to be seen again. But you can't do that, there's no taking back the way your voice cracked as it reaches it's last word, and how your hand slips into a fist, ready to charge even though there's no punching your way out of this fumble.

You crack. Stumble out of your seat. Before he can talk you're moving, throwing a couple bills (too many for your poor wallet, you'll pay for that later) down and mumbling something about heading home. Your head's spinning and you just want to sit down again, pretend like this never happened and ask about some meaningless moment in a meaningless day that you wish could be yours and his, not just—

"—text me when you're goin' out again," you say, high and nervous. "I'll be around."

You turn.

"You don't have to leave."

"I got work tomorrow. Early."

"Thought you had the day off?"

Fuck, la deuxième acte. "Taking a shift for someone."

"Oh." He doesn't believe you. He would be a fool to. But he agrees anyways. "Okay."

"See ya, Kraken."

He doesn't answer you back. It's probably better that way.

BONUS

Many hours later, you're in bed, finally dozing off. You've rinsed off the filth of the night and resigned yourself to a barely adequate rest alone, too tired to consider what usually makes your mind race. It's been a long day; let future you contemplate all the ways you've screwed up.

Just as you're about to fall asleep, however, there's a small ping! that immediately wakes you up A notification sound reserved for only one person.

You groan but still roll over. Your heart may be a humiliated, burning mess, but it still beats for him, much as you've tried to stifle it.

kraken // 2:36 am. you available at 11p tomorrow?

kraken // 2:37 am. got word somethin going down at east docks, wanna check it out before it gets bad.

Relief is a sweet blessing. You exhale and smile into the darkness. He's still a professional, even if you seem unable to understand what that means.

you // 2:40 am. for sure. meet me at my place whenever and we can prep.

You leave it at that. Whatever he has to say after that, cannot be too important to waste your precious hours of sleep. So you roll over and shut your eyes and let yourself forget about the empty space that fills your place.

It's a decision you regret the next morning, when you wake up and realise what you missed.

kraken // 3:31 am. you ever get lonely for someone, feel free to let me know.

kraken // 3:32 am. might not make a great boyfriend, but i'll eat breakfast with you. so long as you're cooking.

A/N - I had a whole idea for two tired vigilantes (like what Diego does in season one, but partnered up) who both are really lonely and tired of life and all it's shit, and rely on each other more than they'll ever admit, and...I'll probably never write it, but this was a fun bit of that. two lonely emotionally deprived assholes who can't accept that maybe they can be loved and the person who wants to is right in front of them. :)

#my writing #diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader #tua x reader #tua imagine #diego hargreeves imagine #hargreeves imagine #hargreeves x reader #gender neutral reader

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 3 years

Text

Drive By ~ part 3

A/n: HELLO I FINALLY DID IT!! This part was hard until I finally rediscovered a few songs that FUELED this part (namely “Falling” by Harry Styles and “Far Away” by Nickelback) and then I managed to finish it! Hope you guys liked it :)

Warnings: Some depressive tendencies (distancing, slight disassociation, etc.). Internalized homophobia. Demonizing of soulmates. Bigoted opinions (Luke and Reggie make fun of them)

Word Count: 5800+

MASTERLIST

Luke and Reggie hadn't been the same since seeing Y/n again, but in very different ways.

Whatever Luke was on, it could only be described as overcompensating. His energy was higher than ever, and he could never quite sit still. His voice was louder, and he talked more. He never stopped talking. It stopped making sense after a while, but Julie and Alex were too worried to stop him. When they tried, his face went blank and his shoulders seemed to slouch and he stopped dead. It was like he'd been slapped... There was a sort of distance in the way he looked at everyone, and talked, and even engaged. He didn't even really process the whole shebang with Caleb, he just stuck very close to Reggie.

And then there was Reggie. He was already kind of off to begin with. He was smart, but he tended to zone out sometimes, and when he tuned back in he'd missed something important and was super lost as to what was happening. Or, someone would say something and he would get the wrong meaning, like the context of the situation had gone just over his head. It was adorable above anything else, and the boys loved to gently tease him about it... but now it wasn't something light hearted and funny. He did a lot of sitting and staring off into space and being silent, and it was very much not like him at all. Usually when he got upset all one had to do was talk to him about one of the things he really loved, but even that was a dead end conversation these days.

Julie, Flynn, and even Alex were all completely lost on what to do with either boy. They still responded when spoken to, and if they had to pitch in they did. Luke still wrote songs and Reggie still hung out with Ray and had Carlos' back and Luke still visited his parents and they both still performed. Luke still seemed to be there when Julie gave "Unsaid Emily" to Luke's parents. They were both still THERE when they were needed, it was just in the little hours. In the small moments, they were... far away. They looked through people and seemed to drift far too much. They were spiraling in a very hidden sort of way and no one knew how to even begin to help.

It was a relief at the end of the day that they could take comfort in each other. Neither had to talk about it, so still no one knew that Y/n and Reggie - and also maybe Luke and Reggie as well - were soulmates. It was written off as Reggie and Y/n being best friends. The two had always understood each other better than the others did. They had soft conversations and secret jokes that lead to exchanged looks no one could quite catch up on. Losing Y/n had been as much a weight on Reggie as it had on Luke. It had been the most clear in those last days. Luke could see the unsettled, unfinished business resting in Reggie's eyes. It had been the same look Luke had seen in his own eyes after the argument with his parents. Every day he hadn't gone back, and when Julie had called him from the dead and he'd gone home and felt it in his very bones. He saw that look, that feeling, in Reggie clearly. Which made sense, considering that Reggie and Y/n had ended in an argument the same way Luke and Y/n had. The pair had never really recovered after that last argument. Reggie had been the one to encourage Luke to let it go when Luke's tattoo had gone grey... and now it was all a mess.

Reggie understood the mix of joy and pain that Luke felt when he'd seen Y/n. Had realized that Y/n had died around when they did. That he was still their age, a ghost just like them, and within reach... theoretically. That's where the bitter came in.

It was nighttime that was the biggest relief.

Luke and Reggie spent most of it cuddling, clinging to each other like they did when they were kids. That night, both of them were having a hard time sleeping as was usual of recent. Ghosts didn't really have to sleep, but they did get physically exhausted every once in a while. Usually a good sit down with a side of relaxation would be enough, but sleeping lessened the overwhelming amount of down time the boys found themselves in, with no one else to talk to but Julie and nothing else to do but sit around and write music, and nothing else to think about than all the mistakes they'd made and the people they'd lost and the things they'd left behind. When one's mind ran that quickly, sleep would have been a relief. Except that a racing mind rarely if ever allowed one to rest, especially if it wasn't required.

So they stayed awake and they talked and they let the time pass as quickly as possible.

"Do you really think you could still fit in the kid swings?" Luke giggled, nose scrunched in that adorable way that always made Reggie's heart race.

"Oh absolutely," Reggie responded with a warm smile of his own. His insides always warmed in these moments, despite how cold he'd felt since seeing Y/n again. Luke seemed to make that connection Reggie lost feel... whole again. Like the thing that had broken in him since losing Y/n was just about fixed. Y/n really had meant a lot to Reggie, and as amazing as Alex and Flynn and Julie were and how important they all were to him, Luke was just different.

A soft breath escaped between Luke's lips then, and his large, green, sparkly eyes found Reggie's. "Thank you Reggie. I don't think I've really laughed since-" His smile faltered. "In a while." His forehead pressed to Reggie's shoulder. "You're my best friend, Reg. I hope you know."

Reggie hummed. "Yeah sure." He noticed the way Luke's eyes zoned out again, getting duller as they zoomed in on the freckles across Reggie's neck and arms. "You okay, Lu?"

For the first time since being asked that question multiple times every day by all of his other friends, Luke was honest. "No." His voice was suddenly very broken.

There was a mixed feeling about this whole thing. Reggie understood Luke perfectly, and how sideways this whole situation was. He knew nothing could make it better, or ease the pain. Nothing but time, if even that. This didn't stop Reggie from WANTING to help though. To ease that pain, and lessen it. To make Luke feel better. All he could do was offer himself, knowing how much it just wouldn't be enough.

"Come here." Reggie opened his arms and Luke rolled onto his side so their bodies were pressed together. Luke's shoulder nestled under one of Reggie's collar bones; Luke's head pressed into Reggie's neck. He didn't mean to, but Luke was warm and he wanted so desperately to say something that when his mouth opened... "I'm sorry I'm not him."

Luke's head moved back, his shoulder pressing more into Reggie's chest as their eyes locked. "What does that mean?" Luke's head tilted, eyebrows dipping in silent accusation. No, not accusation. Worry.

Reggie's eyes jerked to the side. "I just... I wish I could give you some closure. Or just talk to him. Or just have him back. I wish I could actually help, instead of just laying here every night and settling with just distracting you." He shrugged.

One of Luke's hand rose to hold the side of Reggie's face, maneuvering it so they were forced to look at each other again. "Reggie, you're enough. Just you. You've always been enough, you have to know that." His eyes were so sincere... They were so bright and honest and earnest.

What else was Reggie to do but believe him?

Suddenly there was a warmth where Luke's shoulder touched Reggie's chest. It was that moment both boys realized two things. First, it was the same shoulder that Y/n had touched the night the two boys had met. Second, Reggie's collar had fallen down, pushed aside in all the squirming around so the same spot Y/n had touched the night they'd had that special heart to heart was exposed, pressed to Luke's shoulders. What followed next was a completely new realization. Their soulmate marks were touching, skin to skin, and there was a distinct, familiar feeling because of it. A tingling. The same tingling both boys had felt anytime Y/n had touched their soulmate mark. The same feeling they'd gotten the night they'd received those special marks. The two nights that had become two of three nights that had changed everything. Just as it was all about to change again.

Reggie jerked away very suddenly. He scrambled to his feet and then suddenly disappeared. Luke was a second slower, just behind him. Too late to stop him. He scrambled after Reggie though, appearing on the floor rather than in the loft where they'd been before. Just in time to see Reggie tripping over himself to get to the mirror in the bathroom. Luke followed, just in time to see Reggie yank down his shirt to reveal-

Two roses, stems crossed over the other like an 'x'. Just black ink outline, like a coloring page before it's been colored in. The same exact rose that had been on Luke's shoulder and Reggie's neck, but two this time. The same roses that had been on Y/n's palm the night he'd given Reggie a soul mark as he had given Luke one.

Luke turned his body, showing his shoulder in the mirror as well.

The same two roses in the same exact fashion showed on his shoulder.

Reaching out, Luke pulled Reggie's shoulder so they were facing each other. "Reggie... what the hell?" He was even more nervous when Reggie looked back with eyes that had answers. Answers Luke was worried he might very much not want to know.

"What are you doing?"

The small boy looked up to see another small boy. Both of them had green eyes and brown hair - that was the first notice. "I'm playing guitar," the second small boy answered the first.

"No you're not," the first argued. "That's not a guitar. It's a- a- well, its a stick with string tied to it is what it is. And it has too many strings at that!"

The second boy hid the stick behind his back, his chubby face screwing up in anger. It was like a pouting puppy, and the first small boy had to admit it was... kind of adorable. "It IS a guitar," the adorable boy huffed. "What do you know about guitars anyway."

A smile adorned the face of the first boy. "My mom has one. She said I could have it one day."

The adorable boy tilted his head. "Well I guess you're lucky then."

The first boy laughed. "Would you like to play it some day?" The adorable looked shocked, and the first boy smiled even wider. "Thought so. What's your name?"

"Luke," the adorable boy answered. "Yours?"

"Reginald. I... don't like it though." Reginald scrunched his nose, shaking his head.

Luke nodded. "What about a sort of nickname then? Something you like more." Reginald sat next to Luke, and the not-guitar-actually-a-stick was abandoned in favor of the conversation. "There's all sort of odd, funny ones. Like um, Gin."

"That's even worse," Reginald complained.

Luke giggled. "Uh, how about Ginny?" Reginald only had to glare for Luke to rush out, "Okay okay okay, HUGE no on that then. I suppose... well you could be totally boring and go with Reggie."

"What's wrong about boring?" Reginald asked immediately. "You need a little bit of it to make everything else interesting." As Luke went to respond, Reginald continued, "Plus, look who's talking! Luke is the most normal name I've ever heard."

"It's short for Lukas," Luke defended.

"Even worse!" Reginald declared. "Why go with Luke? That's the most obvious nickname for Lucas!"

Luke nodded. "Yeah, but my name is spelled Lukas with a K. So it's cool."

After a second, Reginald nodded. "You can call me Ginny if I can call you Kas."

That made Luke bust up laughing. "You can call me Kas all you want. It's a fun nickname I think."

"I think I'll stick to Reggie though," Reggie decided.

Another nod from Luke. "That's fair." He hesitated a moment. "Wanna be friends?"

A grin like no other took Reggie's face, and Luke found his insides warm up and soften. "Absolutely."

Luke's mind was reeling.

Reggie was worrying. Exceedingly.

"Are you mad at me?" Reggie had never been known for holding his emotions in, and really neither had Luke.

Which is why it was no surprise when the guitarist suddenly looked up, eyes wide with surprise and expression open and honest. "Why would I be mad at you?"

For second, Reggie didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to explain the emotions in his chest that hurt so much. But then he looked into Luke's eyes, and the words came on their own. "I know things haven't been easy for you when it comes to mixing band members and romance. Or when it comes to soulmates." He shrugged. "It doesn't help that - I mean, we've changed a lot, and being with Julie has taught us so much. We've learned to accept a lot about ourselves, and we're lucky for that. But we were still born and raised in the 90's. And back then, soulmates were... bad."

Immediately, Luke sighed. Reggie realized it was in relief. "I feel like I'm behind. Like I didn't leave those fears behind when he got brought back. I still feel like... sometimes I still feel like loving Y/n is wrong. Like I need to keep it a secret and hide it away and push it down. I got so scared when Julie found about my soulmate mark - and then was so surprised when she was so casual about it. I still expect her to snap at me, or be secretly bitter that I'm asexual, or attracted to men. I don't know." he shook his head, sighing again. His shoulders sagged, and Reggie realized that he must feel so relieved to have lost whatever huge amount of stress he was carrying this entire time keeping that inside. "Does it make me a bad person? To flinch away from things like that? It's not that I hate it, I just-" He was obviously struggling.

Sitting down next to Luke, Reggie placed his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Luke you were conditioned from a kid to hate the things about yourself that are most important to you. Things that are ingrained in your coding." He chuckled, and Luke smiled. "Hell, I think even people who were born nowaday still struggle with it sometimes. It's programming. Subconscious. Your emotions don't make you - the way you react to them do."

At that, Luke finally completely relaxed, resting his head on Reggie's shoulder. "Do you ever realize that the only reason people back then demonized soulmates so much is just because it was one less thing they could control? Like, people back then really cared about power so much. Power over people specifically. Like I remember that week that our school did a campaign for fighting against soulmates-"

Reggie gasped. "Oh my god I remember that! They said it was brainwashing. Wasn't it like... like I remember it was so cool for a while, but then people of the same gender started to become soulmates and everyone lost their minds."

"Men and women balance each other out; same sex attraction is an easy way out and ultimately cheats people who deserve better," Luke mocked, his voice snapping and bitter. "This just proves that soulmates are of the devil!"

Reggie busted up laughing. "Don't remind me of Mrs. Kyde-" He snorted, leaning into Luke more, his face light up with a smile.

Luke shook his head. "People are so weird. Literally what does who anyone loves or marries or whatever have anything to do with anyone not involved in that relationship? You don't like the fact that I'm into men? Fine! Go be straight somewhere else." He rolled his eyes. "I hate thinking about how afraid I used to be. Of people finding out about Y/n and me. GOD we were so happy. And the way people treated him..." Suddenly the mood dropped, and Luke raised his hand to wipe away a tear. He scoffed softly. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry for feeling things, Luke," Reggie reassured, raising his arm to wrap around Luke's shoulders and pull both of their bodies closer together.

Turning his head to thank Reggie, Luke stopped short when he then realized how close they were. "You know," he said softly. "It's so weird to realize you're my soulmate too." He smiled though, so Reggie didn't panic as much as he would have normally. "I mean, you were really right there from the beginning. We met in middle school. I was like. Tiny." Reggie giggled and both of them were suddenly smiling again. "You were there for all my worst phases."

Reggie groaned. "God you were my sexual awakening."

"I wasn't," Luke gasped, eyes wide.

"You were." Reggie laughed again, shaking his head. "I was CRUSHED when you started dating Alex. And then you two were so happy, and I saw how hard it was. Saw you guys figure that out, and then kind of devolve into just being friends. And then we started the band, and I realized it was just so much easier to stay friends with you."

"We took ages to figure that out," Luke recalled. "I don't think we ever really figure out personal space again."

Reggie nodded. "And then Y/n came along and I figured I could just jam with being friends. I was so used to it at that point, and there were so many things to be distracted by. Our band was gaining traction and people were talking to us. To me. You two were so happy, and it was a little dangerous and fun and I was so relieved that I hadn't done anything, because I was watching soulmates interact properly and it was everything I ever wanted. I was glad I hadn't gotten between that." His smile faded. "And then..."

"And then you and Y/n," Luke offered. Reggie nodded. After a few seconds of silence, Luke asked, "So what do we do now?"

Shrugging, Reggie looked back at Luke. "What do you want to do?"

Luke thought about that for a second. "Well I know how happy I was with Y/n, and now the stupid things I was worried about before just won't be a problem. No one can see us unless we perform, and the person who can always sees us doesn't care. We don't have to worry like Y/n and I did. And maybe we'll see Y/n again. But we might not, and even if we do it won't mean things are going to go back to what they were. Do you... like him?" Reggie hesitated, then nodded. "Do you like me?" With less hesitation came another nod. "Can I... try something?" Yet another nod, this time with no hesitation.

His heart racing, Luke took a leap of faith. He knew himself at this point. Knew that there was only really one way to figure out his emotions. If he tried to figure it out via analysis, he'd eventually over think it until nothing made sense and he was just more confused. So he did something he knew would work. He softly grabbed Reggie's face and pulled his best friend to him until they were kissing.

When their lips touched, something seemed to unlock in Reggie. He shuddered and Luke leaned back immediately, eyes wide with nervousness. But then he saw the way that Reggie leaned in after him and he felt his heart swell and his insides warm. Reggie looked at him, unsure, but then seemingly at the same time they both grabbed each other, meeting for a passionate kiss that set them both on fire.

All either of them could think for a while was... Finally.

Luke was so happy to see Y/n getting along so well with his friends. They had met only an hour ago and Alex and Y/n had already bonded over being attracted to men. Bobby was standing back a bit, unsure how to approach Y/n and the situation implied between this new boy and Luke. Bobby didn't mind it, he knew about Alex after all. It had just surprised him because he didn't know about Luke. On top of that, he DID very much know about Y/n and his reputation, so he didn't know what to do with this person that seemed so different than the one Bobby had heard about, being seemingly romantically involved with a dude who Bobby had been sure was straight until today. Reggie and Y/n had distracted from Bobby's awkwardness by hitting it off right out of the gate with how comfortable they were with physical affection, as well as the fact that Y/n just seemed to be so quickly aware of and good with Reggie's little odd ways of doing things that were always so different than how most other people did them. Y/n was extremely insightful, and a fast learner and those two skills came in handy now.

In fact, Y/n and Reggie were getting along so well that Alex and Bobby had settled by Luke. A calm, warm air had settled in the room just like it always did when they were all together. The studio attached to Bobby's house had become like a second home for the three boys. Luke hoped that would carry to Y/n to.

After introductions, Y/n stayed for a little band practice, grinning from ear to ear as he clapped between songs. It seemed to fuel Luke, which only fueled the others. Luke's energy had always been contagious to his best friends, and now was no different. It only took one song for Bobby to warm up to the surprises he'd had tonight and this stranger he wasn't sure what exactly to do with. By the end of it, Y/n was shouting so loud Luke had to come over and gently remind him it was getting late and people might handle a band playing, but they definitely would refuse to tolerate straight up screaming. When the sun began to set, they all headed out to sit on Bobby's roof and watch the sun set as they talked about that day's practice just like they always did. Except, instead of the usual criticism and praises and general discussion, they turned to Y/n to get an third person opinion. Their mistake too, because Y/n grabbed the opportunity immediately to drown them all in praise, sparing no second or word to tell them how amazing they were and how much he loved their music.

"You play at all?" Bobby asked as Y/n began to calm down, blushing as he got self conscious at how long he'd been talking.

Thankful for Bobby sensing his rising awkwardness and distracting him from it, Y/n shot the rhythm guitarist a warm smile. "My older sister did." His smile faltered and the other boys exchanged looks before Reggie - who knew enough about siblings to recognize when someone mentioned something about them they didn't want pressed - shook his head in a firm no.

Luke took that to heart - he always trusted Reggie's instincts - and let it go. "So you've been around music a lot then. Anything you've especially taken to? Favorite band?"

Y/n smirked, but none of them were fast enough to stop him from saying, "You guys of course." The others groaned, but Luke's eyes only widened and he blushed. Y/n winked.

Eventually everyone had to go to bed. Alex, Luke, and Reggie had stayed here hundreds of times easy, but Y/n was hesitant to join them tonight. When Bobby encouraged it, finally he gave in and curled up with Luke on the couch. The first to fall asleep - to everyone's surprise - was Y/n. Bobby, who always slept in the studio when the boys stayed over, smiled at Luke. "So you found your soulmate."

That of course made Luke just beam with joy. "Yeah." Y/n had fallen asleep on Luke's chest and it was the most comfortable Luke had ever been in his light. He loved the weight of Y/n on him, reminding him every single second that this was real. "It's everything I thought it was going to be," he mused dreamily. "He just fits, like a puzzle piece. I totally thought I had everything figured out and then this person drops into the middle of my life and suddenly there's a whole other half of this picture I was sure I'd finished a long time ago..." He shook his head. "It's great."

Reggie chuckled. "So great you took, what, a month and a half to tell us about him?"

Luckily Y/n was a heavy sleeper, because if he hadn't been Luke would have woken him up with how hard he flinched. "I just didn't know how you guys would have reacted. Y/n kind of has a reputation, and I don't care obviously, but he's been through a lot of shit with people who do care and if you guys hadn't all gotten along it would have been the worst." Alex went to say something and Luke rushed to add, "And it's not that I thought you guys were dicks or anything. I just had this... fear, anyway. I mean, I've been standing by the fact that I don't really like anyone for a while and that's why most things like this haven't worked out, and it's still weird and complicated but Y/n is helping me a LOT to figure out that some attractions are different than others and..." He sighed, eyes purposefully looking away from Alex.

Sensing the core of Luke's worry, Alex reached over and touched Luke's shoulder, a genuine smile on his face. "Luke, I'm happy for you. I'm glad you figured out all the stuff you were struggling so much with back then and that you can be happy now." There was an unspoken, 'even if it's not with me' that he didn't have to say.

After that, the conversation died pretty quickly, and Bobby and Alex went to sleep too.

"Do you still think we'll be able to cuddle and stuff?" Reggie asked softly, looking up from where he lay.

Rolling his eyes, Luke answered, "Of course Reggie. The only thing that's going to change is that I might be a little less needy. I'll always be your Kas."

That made Reggie settle more, smiling to himself. There was something about thinking of Luke as HIS that made butterflies flutter in his stomach. "Good because I might've had to fight your boyfriend if that wasn't the case."

Luke chuckled. "Go to bed, Gee." After all those years, Luke had finally come up with his own, original nickname for Reggie that didn't sound stupid, and they both loved it.

Getting more comfortable, Reggie decided to do just that, right after one final, "Goodnight, Kas."

A sleepy, "Goodnight, Gee," came from Luke as they both finally drifted into sleep along with the others.

Things had been complicated, but that had been the case for far too long now, and Reggie and Luke had done everything in their power to make it as simple as possible. With the threat of being erased from existence completely looming over their heads, and no way to mend things between them and Y/n, now was as good a time as ever to let go of the past and hold on to the little time they had now. And they made it work. Despite the fear. Despite the pain. Despite once again losing all of the things that could have been and that they so wanted to be, what they did have was their soulmate mark, and that MEANT something. For now, they'd be fine with that.

Tonight was supposed to be it. They'd said their goodbyes and lined up the performance up so the boys could pass on. But they weren't showing up, and Julie Molina knew her boys well. Too well to think they'd left her again, so that meant two things. They were doubled over in pain somewhere, too incapacitated to play. Or... they were already gone. It had been too late and they'd been destroyed Julie had to do this performance completely by herself. Performing after Panic at the Disco, in one of the most sought after local gigs. In a packed auditorium.

In that moment, Julie did the only thing she knew how to. She went to her mom for help.

Rose Molina didn't show up, but someone did. A boy, maybe one or two years older than him. He was completely decked in white. Just jeans a t-shirt and everyday shoes, except he didn't have even a speck of dust or shirt on him. He was so clean that under the moonlight in the dark, dim alleyway, the boy seemed to glow. He smiled to her and extended his arm, and in his hand was a single flower.

A Dahlia.

She took it, her eyes welling with tears. She'd asked for a sign, and a boy as close to angelic as one could get without causing a scene had shown up to give her the flower that had always been her mother's favorite. He turned around and began to walk away but she rushed after him, reaching to catch his arm. She gasped when her hand went right through him. He turned as if he felt it, that soft, warm smile still on his face.

"Who are you?" She asked with a voice filled with awe.

He seemed to get sheepish. "I'm not an angel, if that's that you're thinking."

"Then what are you?" Julie asked, stepping closer.

For a second, he just thought. "A friend," is what he gave her. "When you need me most, I'll be there. I can promise that." And then he rose a single hand and waved at her before disappearing in a fashion that she had seen more than plenty of times with the boys.

After, when she tried to recall anything special about the boy other than his pristine, perfectly clean white clothes, she remembered few things. She'd been too caught up in the moment that was already packed with stress and heavy emotion and shock to think about anything else. It wasn't until after, when the boys were better and Luke had grabbed Reggie's face and kissed him in pure relief that she thought about the boy again. It wasn't much longer later - just later that night - but that had brought him into her mind was a surprise. For the first time in a long time, Julie was seeing Luke without sleeves, and as he turned to grasp his boyfriend in the heat of the moment, Julie saw his soulmate mark. Except now, it was a little different. It had two roses instead of one.

It was the exact sane mark that had been on the boy in the white clothes' hand as he waved goodbye to her.

She rushed to him touching his shoulder with wide eyes. "Luke, your soulmate mark..."

Reggie got excited, unbuttoning his shirt a little to show the matching one he had on his upper chest. "We're soulmates, Julie. Didn't we tell you that?"

"Well yeah," Julie dismissed, looking between the to marks that not only matched each others' but also the one from earlier that had been on the mystery boy's hand. "But... it changed."

Luke and Reggie looked at each other and decided silently in that moment that they couldn't handle it. Not right now. Not on top of everything else. They couldn't talk about Y/n. So Luke told a half truth. "It changed."

Immediately Julie glared at Luke. "This didn't change Luke, it doubled. Soulmate marks don't do that. They fade at best. There's been three cases total in all of the history of visible soulmate marks that completely disappeared - it's extremely rare for them to even make room for new marks, let alone create a whole new one that looks that similar to the last one you had there." Her face relaxed. "You guys are both soulmates with Y/n."

Reggie sighed, his happiness and relief melting for despair. "Yeah." He shook his head. "But can we please not talk about that? We just barely didn't completely die, and-"

"But I know where to find him," Julie rushed urgently. The two boys froze.

"What?" Luke choked out.

Julie took off, out of the room and returning back again with the Dahlia she'd received from who she now knew to be Y/n. She knew that the boys had seen him when they'd been at Bobby's house, but at the time she hadn't known who to look for and had missed him. She had gotten a description of him though here and there a few times, and from what she knew, this had to be him. If anything, the mark was enough. She didn't know why it hadn't hit her the second she'd seen the two roses, so very similar to Luke's one she'd seen before, right in the place that she knew Y/n's mark to be. Pushing that out of her mind now, she held up the flower to the boys. "When I thought you guys were gone, I went into the alley and I asked my mom to-" her voice got suddenly think with emotion and she cleared her throat, shaking her head. "I asked for a sign. Anything to let me know she was still here and watching me. That she was like you guys, or maybe somewhere else. Helping. And then Y/n showed up with THIS and told me he was a friend and that I could call on him anytime I needed him. That he would be there for me."

Luke ran a hand through his hair. "How did you know it was him?" His voice was strained, but the message still came across.

"He waved at me before he disappeared. He had the same roses on his palm, that you two do. We can find him! We can finally fix what happened all those years ago!" She grinned, her smile making the room brighter. "You guys can FINALLY go and get your man!"

Reggie and Luke looked at each other again, but this time their expressions were unreadable. When they turned back to look at Julie, she thought they were about to have a whole new purpose. Something GOOD that actually meant something. Not struggling for success, or running from life threatening danger, but something purely good that would finally help two of her four closest friends find peace with the one thing they regretted most about their lives before. Then Reggie spoke, only one word. One word that made less sense than anything Julie had heard in her entire life.

Reginald Peters opened his mouth and with complete conviction told her, "No."

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emerald-amidst-gold · 3 years

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8, 13, 80, 82, for the otp asks? 👀

OTP! OTP! >:3 Time for some more rambling~! You know, I think my love for these two dorks grows more and more as I create and talk about their dynamic. It just. HNNNNNGH. *makes grabby hands at dumb dumb wolf and dumb dumb dragon*

Anyways, my fangirling aside, let's get to answering! >:D Thank you so much for the ask, dear friend! X3

8. Who tends to worry the most?

I was going to answer this with 'both equally', but the more I think, the more I realize that Solas is the one who worries the most. XD

I mean, come on. We all know Solas is a natural worry wart. It's in the man's blood, and Fane has a tendency to make his dear wolf's blood pressure rise to fatal heights with the shit he does. PFFT!

Fane is a literal battering ram when it comes to battles (this is based on how I've specced him in-game), and he just charges in without caring if he'll get sliced, diced, or scorched. Fane's illness with magic makes it incredibly difficult for Solas to erect barriers on him, so he has to devise other ways to keep Fane in one piece (nitpicking about his armor, constantly asking, 'Are you certain you are ready?', and begging, 'Please control yourself this time, ma'isenatha.') All of that worry comes from the fact that Solas has seen Fane die, has had to guide him to it, even. Fane doesn't mean to brush off that concern and worry, but when he's embroiled in battle he...loses his senses a bit. Dragons aren't meant to fight, and fighting is what Fane does best in his new life, so he has a hard time balancing bloodlust with merciful restraint.

If Fane gets injured (which he does, but only grazes and the occasional gash), Solas won't let anyone else attend to him, fear gripping his mind, memories of blood soaked crystal and decaying scales cracking his mask and rendering him tortured. When Fane sees that, instead of just seeing the nagging, he'll go docile, go remorseful and will say, 'I'm sorry, my sky. I never meant to-- I only--hn.' Once they talk and wind down though, things get right back on track, but Solas is constantly worrying over his dragon--constantly.

Solas worries about everything with Fane--his scars, his nightmares, his battle with his identity--but battle is where he's the least reserved in it. He doesn't want Fane to have to fight, but he knows they both don't have a choice in the matter.

13. Who steals the blankets?

Solas. SOLAS.

Well, it's more that Fane gives the blankets to Solas. XD Due to the fact that Fane's affinity as a dragon was ice, he has a very low tolerance to heat. So, furs and even thin silken sheets can be a bit too much for our resident dragon to handle. Hell, Fane walks around the outer perimeter of Skyhold (trails along the mountains and whatnot) in nothing but a fur-lined cloak, his typical trousers, and his black tunic. My boy gives no fucks about the cold.

Fane and Solas' quarters in Skyhold stay a nice in-between temperature, catering to both their needs comfortably. Magic is a lovely thing, and there are certain minor spells that Fane can bear without throwing up all over the place.

...Fane does whine when the fire is a bit too stoked though. That's when the balcony windows get torn open by a deadpan Solas, who then regrets his decision like so many other things. *cackles* Fane just shrugs and gives his wolf that shit-eating smirk of his that says, 'That all you've got, Dread Wolf? Tsk. Shame.'

80. What do they love about each other the most?

Solas is enthralled by Fane's sheer tenacity. Even before the two of them realized who the other was, Solas found Fane's attitude admirable. He had a feeling that Fane was troubled, could see it during specific intervals, but he also saw the will to endure in emerald and gold. Despite the snaps, the snarls, and the moments of disassociation, Solas could see just how strong of spirit Fane was--making decisions without a single regret (on the outside, of course), standing firm to what he believed in, never bowing to those who wished to break him in half with their hopes and expectations, witnessing those moments of vulnerability when Fane's illness with magic became too much, but the other powering through it despite the pain, despite the hardship, and between it all, how much he cared about every. single. person he came across. The downtrodden and forgotten. The traumatized and bereft.

Solas adores Fane's tenacity, and most importantly, his devotion. The latter comes later when they form a romantic relationship, but Solas has always seen both traits in his dragon. And he'll do anything to make sure those shining spirits never becomes warped again.

Now, it may seem predictable, but Fane thrives off of Solas' brain. X'D Fane is a creature of observation, he picks and delves to determine why things work the way they do, or technically speaking, why people act the way that they do. As such, he's always stunned or enraptured when Solas becomes especially passionate about a topic (spirits, the Fade, the Elvhen, his beliefs, his opinions, etc.) Solas' questioning and curious nature is what made Fane open up as a dragon, had him seeing that there was someone not so black and white. So, even if it's sometimes at his expense, Fane lets Solas talk and talk and talk and talk until the candles are burnt down and the moon's high in the sky, never once letting his mind wander and spiral because he'd be a fool to ignore such a beautiful sight as his sky.

82. What is an inside joke they have?

Okay, okay! I may have mentioned this before, but Fane and Solas, on occasion, like to point out the sheer irony of Fane being the 'Herald of Andraste'.

What I mean by that is; he's a dragon. History tiiiime! >:D

Old Gods-depicted as dragons by the Tevinter Imperium.

Archdemons, those that command the Blights, the very thing the Chantry warns against aside from mages--dragons

Fane is a dragon. Fane is also the Herald of Andraste. The Tevinter Imperium used to worship the Old Gods which the Chantry says are false gods and the only true one is the Maker.

So, where does that leave us? Fane is a dragon being worshiped by most of Thedas as a literal figure of divinity. He's the very thing the Chantry claims is 'wicked' and 'heretical'. Furthermore, Fane does have the capacity to harbor a portion of an Old God's soul. *holds out hands* EH? EHHHH?!

"They worship me as a god, more or less, right?"

"If one where to delve deeply into the matter, then perhaps. I believe most of the beleagured and drifting see you as a symbol of hope, ma'isenatha."

"...They literally call me the prophet of their prophetess. They think I'm divinely touched."

"Technically, you are correct. But--oh."

"Yeah. Fucking hilarious. Looks like the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree. Let's hope the scum in Tevinter don't catch wind. It would be humiliating for the Chantry to know the people flock to a dragon."

"...You are ridiculous."

"But you're laughing, so I know you see the irony, my sky." *chuckles* "Ohh, my day just got ten times better with that realization. Imagine Cassandra's face! Hah!"

"You are far too riveted by this, my dragon. ...Though I admit, it is rather amusing."

"See?" *snickers* "Herald of Andraste. Pfft. I'm a fucking dragon."

Dialogue drabble that I may flesh out and form into a snippet of pure ridiculousness! But that's the joke between Solas and Fane, and when Cassandra's catches Fane nearly exploding with the force of holding his snorts back...well, let's just say she's very confused. *cackles*

#asks #ask #oc: fane lavellan #solas #solavellan #dragon age #fane is so fucking pleased that he has something to hang over the chantry X'D #my boy DETESTS it so rubbing the 'i'm a DRAGON' card in their faces makes him DIE #solas just pinches the bridge of his nose most of the time and sighs fondly #...fane throwing a million fur blankets onto solas to keep him warm now lives rent free in my head :3 #looks like i have another scenario to potentially write! >:D #thank you so much again! <3 #now i go sleep~ X3

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charged-wanderlust · 3 years

Text

naturally, there was only one bed.

requested by @lovestruck-arin, naturally

As you knock on the door of their apartment, you figure you’d have a lot of explaining to do as soon as Arin oopens the door.

What you didn’t expect, is Arin in nothing but boxer briefs and a binder answering the door with a tired, yet genuine smile and a tiny “Oh, hey. Come in.”

Your entire explanation for why you were there at 3AM in the morning flies right out the window along with your last braincell and shred of sanity you had left, crashing through the glass and landing with a huge splash in the pool outside.

Arin was already preparing tea, humming a cute little tune in a sleepy voice by the time you’d collected yourself and actually walked through the damn door; you only just manage to remind yourself to stop staring. Their bedhair is even worse than when you help them fix it up before classes sometimes - were they... were they fixing up their hair a little before coming to see you, or before you woke up to see them? Surely they wouldn’t bother.

“Right, sorry for the intrusion - did I wake you? You look a little, uhh...”

Their eyes meet yours, that golden sunset gaze, and you're rendered completely speechless. Those same eyes look at you almost every day now, yet they continued to be just as memsmerising each time - or even more so. They raise an eyebrow, asking the silent question to finish what you were saying. Oh.

“You don’t look like, bad, or anything, you look really cute actually-” That was casual, right? “-just a little. Conked? Was it another late night?”

They keep blinking at you in confusion, not saying a word, only breaking eye contact to rub the sleep out of their eyes.

Almost as confused as them, you tilt your head and prod, “Arin, the lights aren’t even on. Are you like, good? Is this a bad time?”

Some sort of recognition finally flashes on their face, bolting upright with a surprised cry of your name, almost dropping both your cups of tea.

“Waitwait- you’re here? In my house? And I’m...” They look down at themself, face heating up at the realisation, “...not wearing any clothes. Oh god, I’m so sorry. I was completely on automatic and-”

You’re already wiping tears of laughter from your eyes by the time they cut themself off, clutching at your stomach and struggling to breathe. Arin watches, stunned, but soon softens into a gentle smile you’re losing your shit too hard to see - but they catch themself, and carefully set the mugs down on the table.

“Hahahaha- oh my god Arin, your autopilot mode welcomes me in and makes tea? At ungodly hours in the morning? Without asking questions?”

You hobble over to the lights and switch them on, finally catching your breath, and you only then notice just how red Arin’s gotten. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I guess I’m just used to you always being around.” They gesture to your cup, taking a sip from theirs. “Tea?”

“Sure.” You take it, more for politeness than actually needing caffiene at three, and so Arin feels less awkward hiding their flaring cheeks with their mug of steaming leaf water. “Sorry for barging in so late with no warning - my phone died right after my brother told me not to come home tonight cause he and Lucas were alone and... yeah. You’re the only place I thought to go.”

Arin nods along, taking a long sip before replying. You have no idea how their tongue doesn’t burn, but they don’t even flinch. “Fair enough. But uh, I don’t have like, a spare mattress or anything, and the couch is practically a rock... well, you’d have to take my bed.”

“No way am I taking your bed,” you protest, setting your cup back down. “You rarely get enough sleep as it is, I can sleep on a rock hard couch, that’s fine. A rock bed beats having to listen to what my brother and his boyfriend are up to late at night.”

Arin laughs, stalking over to their bedroom before pausing in the doorway, back facing you, and murmurs, “Or... we could share?”

“We could share?”

They pause. “The bed, I mean. It’s big enough, and... well, I’d feel bad getting you to sleep on what’s basically a park bench.” They turned to glance at you over their shoulder, adding quietly, “Please?”

Hey heart? Maybe stop that.

How can you say no? You were already nodding before your brain caught up, and Arin waved you inside as they set down their tea on the nightstand and flopped face first into the mattress with a groan.

You giggle, shedding your jacket and shoes next to the bed and slipping in next to them. “Aw, come on, it wasn’t that bad. At least you didn’t like, sleep walk right into the door.”

That got a lazy grin out of them. They rolled over, setting an arm under their head, and mused in a low voice, husky from sleep, “You laughed so hard you cried.”

You shrugged, snuggling in close enough to feel their breath on your face. “You always make me laugh. That’s not new.”

“Hmm... I’m glad. I like making you smile. You...” they break off with a yawn before continuing, “...you deserve it. Laughing, I mean. Ahh, what am I saying...”

They slap their hands over their face in embarrassment, covering everything except the smallest glimpse of a disbelieving grin - god they are adorable. If they keep saying shit like that, you’re gonna kiss them on the mouth, you swear.

They remove their hands tentatively, their sheepish expression not at all helping your overwhelming desire to kiss them - and then it hits you. It hits you like a steam train on steroids, barrelling you over and getting your heart pumping.

What if I did?

It’s not like you haven’t thought about it before. On the contrary, you’ve thought about kissing Arin an embarrassing amount of times by now, to the point you worry whenever you’re near them if they can peer into your mind and see your secret stash of Arin daydreams. But what about them? Do they think similar thoughts? Is that why they turn the most satisfying shade of scarlet whenever you tease them? When they give those heartfelt compliments that almost sound like they belong in a love letter?

You decide to test the waters.

Rolling out of bed, you fake a yawn, stretching. “Man, it’s too hot under the blankets with clothes on. Considering you’re already- yeah- mind if I...?”

Arin slowly and not-so-subtly pulls the blanket up and over their face. “Yeah, uh, sure, I’ll just... turn around.”

“You don’t have to.”

You said it so fast they didn’t even have time to shift in their bed, and just like that, they're rooted to the spot, unable to do anything, unable to move. Only able to just lie there and take in the sight in front of them, not moving that infuriating blanket so you can’t read their expression at all.

Still, you persist, taking off each article of your clothing with an excrutiatingly gradual pace, wanting to really see them squirm. They hold it together up until you slide back into bed next to them; they breathe out in relief the minute you were covered by the blanket, and you withhold a snicker upon realising they were holding their breath the whole time.

“You good? Or just like what you see?”

Arin sighs. “Must you always tease me like this?”

“Only when it illicits such good reactions.”

They groan, rolling over and burying themself in their blanket even more. “Of course, just cause I’m easy to tease, huh. Why don’t you tease Omar as much? Or Nora?”

You pause. “I just...” Now or never. “...I just like you the most.”

“You like me?”

They turn around to face you, taking a deep breath to ground themself. To stop floating in the clouds for once - to meet you head-on. They open their mouth to speak-

“I like you.”

-but you beat them to it, laying yourself bare. Nothing to hide behind, anymore, because Arin deserves to know - even if they don’t like you back, they deserve that much. They deserve the entire goddamn world and you want them to know that if they do so much as say the word, you’ll give it to them.

Arin is breathless. They blink at you for a few moments, but unlike in the kitchen, it isn’t out of disassociation or confusion. They look at you like they can’t believe you’re right in front of them, you’re perfectly within reach - hell, any closer and you might as well be pressed together - and now? You’re all theirs.

Then, they kiss you. Their kiss is soft, tentative; it’s only the slightest brush of lips, but you’re too stunned to move. You really should’ve expected it - but you were expecting words, not... not the softest lips you’ve ever touched. When they pull away, you stare at each other for a moment; then you laugh. Both of you, sharing faint, breathy giggles under the cover of filtered moonlight that catches their eyes just right. Eyes that reflect so much love, so much affection. Care. You’d gotten so used to looking at them, but they hit so different now - now that you know what hides behind the mysterious windows to their soul.

You cradle their face in your hands, pulling them in for more, and they’re happy to ablige. They lift themself up and place themself on top of you, supporting the back of your head as they meet you in the middle, letting out a low hum that had your brain turning to radio static. You nip their lower lip, pulling them closer, closer - anything to hear that sweet noise again.

This time, it’s a ghost of a whimper swallowed by your lips; you grin against their mouth, rolling them over so you’re straddling them instead, and their eyes go wide, completely blown out.

“We... we should’ve done this ages ago, huh.”

You just keep smiling, stroking your their cheek with your thumb, “We’re both gay messes. But right now, I wanna hear you being the mess, whimpering for me like that again.”

“Well. I can hardly complain about that.”

#ever after academy #lovestruck voltage #arin eaa #eaa fmc #fmc x arin

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kittybellestark · 3 years

Text

It’s Like Falling From The Sky

Hi I’m exhausting and things suck rn so i wrote this

I know this is coming out but I really can’t promise that I’ll be able to be very active on here with everything going on with my Dad.

If you have mad e a fic request I am working on it have no fears I have not forgotten I just needed to write out my emotions so I’m sorry.

I’ll get this on AO3 in the next few days

TW: Flashbacks, Minor Character Deaths, Re-Visiting Peter’s Traumas, Depression, Probably Disassociation.

Peter remembers. He hated remembering this. He couldn’t even talk to other people about this. Well, he probably could, but he wasn’t supposed to.

Dr. Josh said so.

He didn’t like Dr. Josh very much. He was there when it happened. Dr. Josh went through the same thing Peter did. Sometimes Dr. Josh still came to visit Peter up until the time Skip happened. Dr. Josh was there for Peter’s first trauma yet he wasn’t there for the next one. And Peter hated him.

Peter remembered the plane.

Officially Peter was never in that plane. There was no records of Peter ever being there, or Dr. Josh being there. But Peter remembered it in perfect clarity. It was one of the only memories Peter had of his parents.

It was fine. The plane ride. It was boring and he played Uno with his parents. Dr. Josh stayed seated in a corner, close to the front. It was a nice plane, a private one Oscorp had provided them. This plane was newer. Peter hadn’t ever seen it before, this wasn’t the plane his family normally took. He had liked the other plane more, that plane was familiar.

He was the one who noticed the smoke. It was coming out of the engine. They had thought the shaking was turbulence, just a little bit of wind. The smoke clouded the sky around them.

Peter remembers that his parents buckled him into a seat, before getting into their own. Dr. Josh went to go into the cockpit, but the door was jammed. He couldn’t get in. The locking mechanism had ceased, there was no way for Dr. Josh to get in there and Peter saw the moment he realized this. The doctor sat down and buckled in.

The lights flickering was the scariest part to Peter. That was when everyone knew things would get worse. Peter could feel it, he was able to feel his parents fear. Their fear was suffocating. It was the way his mother sobbed and his father dropped his head into his hands, shoulders shaking. There was no battle to be fought, they weren’t going to be able to get out of this one.

Oxygen masks dropped and Peter’s mom made sure to get one onto his face. She kissed his forehead and whispered goodbyes. He cried hard, holding onto her hand with both of his. The door had ripped off the side of the air craft and that made things cold. Cold, cold, cold. And that didn’t make sense to Peter. Outside was bright orange, the colour of warmth and his parents bedding.

Nothing made sense. It was bad and scary and Peter hates remembering this. He hates it. Peter hates that he was there and that officially he never was. There’s been no one to talk to, no one who can understand. It was in the news, that the only two passengers onboard had died and it infuriates Peter. There was four passengers on that plane and two died.

Peter remembers the plane going down. He remembers screaming, then he remembers waking up. There was metal scraps of plane all around him and fire, there was so much fire. He was still in his chair, strapped down to it and he couldn’t get out. He remembers calling out for his parents and then looking around for them.

Peter remembers seeing his mother laying there on the ground. She was awake but gasping for air, her one hand on chest, a leg bent at an unnatural angle, hair melted onto her. Peter was afraid of his own mother. He couldn’t find his father, couldn’t see him, but Peter could hear his screams. Peter could hear him in pain and that scared him too. He feared the people who were meant to be safe. Peter hates himself for that too.

Peter hates Dr. Josh. He hates Dr. Josh for surviving and Peter hates that Dr. Josh for saving him and not going back for his parents. And Peter hates Dr. Josh for leaving him, for not showing up anymore.

Peter hates Dr. Josh. He never expected to see him again. But the thing about being Peter Parker is that everything goes in the exact way that Peter just can’t predict.

Becoming Spider-Man was never anything Peter thought he would ever do. Meeting Tony Stark was a pipe-dream, and this mentor-mentee thing was so wildly out there. Nothing ever seemed to make sense and Peter hated that too. It was always a whirlwind and never any time to process any of it. Never any time to make sense of anything.

Peter couldn’t help blaming Dr. Josh for that too.

“You good kid?” Tony finally, finally asked.

Distractions are good, welcomed even. Anything was better than his thoughts or the memories of his parents dying. Distractions are easy and they help. Things aren’t so painful if he’s distracted. It’s why parents teach their kids to laugh when they get hurt, it distracts them and then everything is okay.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry- I just got caught up in my head.”

Peter couldn’t help running his hand through his hair. It was a nervous tick, at least that’s what Dr. Josh had said. Built on his anxiety after his parents death. Peter didn’t believe that to be factual. It was a way to comfort himself, his parents used to run their fingers through Peter’s hair when he was sad or sick or tired.

He could tell that Tony didn’t believe him. Why would he? Peter hasn’t been focused recently. He needs to focus, but he just can’t seem to focus on anything other than the thought of Dr. Josh recently. It’s a problem and Peter knows it. But it’s just so easy to put the bad things on him.

Had Dr. Josh at least saved one of his parents, Peter wouldn’t have gone into foster care. He wouldn’t have been placed into May and Ben’s home, Skip would have never been his babysitter. Peter wouldn’t have had to go onto the Oscorp field trip, and Ben would have never been murdered. If just one of his parents had lived Peter wouldn’t feel the grief or hatred he does now. More of his family would be around, he wouldn’t be made fun of for being the reason his guardians all keep dying. May would be happier, she’d have her husband and a in-law. There would never be any over-due bills. So Peter hated Dr. Josh, and it wasn’t fair to do that to him, but Dr. Josh was supposed to be a doctor. He was supposed to save lives.

“Earth to Peter.” Tony waved his hand in front of Peter’s face. “You zoned out on me while I was talking. We have a meeting to go to remember, you’re supposed to pretend to be doing intern-y things. With the Avengers?”

Peter shook his head, trying to clear it. It was too busy most of the time. Every thought just started and ended on top of each other. But he was going into a meeting, and the Avengers were supposed to be there, so his brain needed to be clear. He couldn’t think about what is felt like to fall out of the sky and not being able to catch himself.

“Sorry, yeah, I’m here. Which Avengers?”

Smile. Breathe. Listen. Try and be normal. Do not dwell. Not on the past.

“I mean Cap is going to be there, he’s a total bore by the way. He drones on and on, I think we’ve all learnt to fall asleep to him talking without him noticing, you’re allowed to zone out on him. Natasha is going to be there, she’s sneaky about things so don’t fan boy too hard around her. Clint will also be there, he’ll keep things interesting. You get bored in there Clint is always doing something strange to get everyone’s attention, you two will get along like a house on fire, I’m only a little scared. And Bruce will be there, you’ve met him multiple times already though Pete, so we aren’t going to hyperventilate this time. You’re going to remember to breathe and not overwhelm Bruce with every question you have about one of his research papers.”

Tony liked to talk with his hands. Grand gestures. It was calming to watch. Peter liked how expressive Tony was. The man said he wasn’t good at expressing his emotions but Tony showed his emotions in his movements. He was easy to read if you knew what to look for, and Peter did. Peter liked knowing. He didn’t get to know much in his life, he could never predict what was happening next and that hurt. But he could see how Tony was feeling and he could act accordingly and he liked to be able to control that.

“I’ve seen the PSA’s at school I think I’ll live. Black Widow is very intimidating so I don’t think you’ll hear me talk more than five words, she’s awesome but she could kill me in the time it takes me to blink. I cannot annoy her Mr. Stark, I’m comfortable being alive.” Tony laughed, Peter joined. “I mean really, I’ve met Dr. Banner and Black Widow has become involved with the government and on tv all the time. An no self respecting teenager doesn’t hate Captain America for those PSA’s at least a little bit. I know them all except Hawkeye really, but he’s the only Avenger that is still supposed to be a secret agent so it’s not like any pictures of him exists. Which is very annoying Mr. Stark. Ned and I hacked into your servers once to see if we could find any pictures of him- this was before I met you by the way- and you didn’t even have anything there.”

Yeah, that sounded like Peter Parker. Laughing, joking, he sounded normal. He was not spiraling. There was no imagining the lights flickering or smoke filled sky. Peter couldn’t talk about it so he shouldn’t think about it. There was no use in his brain remembering the sound of his father’s screams. He could remember so many better things, more useful things. It was over ten years ago. He had more recent trauma, plane trauma at that. This really shouldn’t be the one bad thing his brain goes to first.

Right. He’s supposed to acknowledge and follow and be normal. Peter has this. There’s no plane falling out of the sky today. He is okay.

“I wish I was surprised about you and Ted hacking into SI servers and then getting into my own, but frankly nothing you do could really ever surprise me at this point. You’re too smart for your own good, I do expect you to take over the world Roo, but for my heart could you wait until you’re done high school.”

It was the right time to laugh. Tony was laughing, so Peter laughed. It didn’t make sense to Peter how his actions couldn’t surprise Tony. Sometimes Peter’s actions even surprise himself. But it’s not really like Peter knew himself very much anymore, not with his life continuing to be so unpredictable. Sure he had gotten used to the fake smiles, and pretending to be fine, deflecting, but that wasn’t really his actions. It just covered them up.

Peter followed just a little bit behind Tony, it helped ease the anxiety, like a shield. He also knew it wasn’t good to use Tony like this. It was just easier sometimes, when he was scared. This wasn’t a good pattern, but neither was the rest of his life. The world owed him just this bit of comfort sometimes.

“If I’m going to take over the world then I have to take everyone by surprise Mr. Stark. Including you; unless you help me of course. I could use you for your government connections, sway them over into our favour. It really wouldn’t take much.”

Peter shrugged as Tony stepped into the room, shaking his head while looking back at him. The room was loud as Peter stepped in, but it’s what he had expected. Stories have been told to him about the Avengers, loud and rambunctious, conversations on top of each other. Even with Thor off world the group made up for it in this small room.

“Everyone this is my personal intern. Yes I trust him, no he is not a secret love child, no you can’t interrogate. Yes he will be sitting in this meeting, no you don’t have anything to worry about. Okay? Great, Brucie you know Peter, everyone else this is Peter Parker, Peter this is everyone.”

It’s like falling from the sky, when he see’s the Avengers. He smells the smoke and feels everything quake. He can hear his father screaming and his mother gasping for air. Everything is warm orange but he’s cold and it doesn’t make sense. He is falling from the sky and it’s way too fast and he cant keep his hold on his mothers hand. He is falling and he can’t catch himself and the world is coming at him way too fast.

He needs to breathe.

It hurts.

He’s trapped in the seat and everything is on fire and his family is dying.

And there is Dr. Josh pulling him out and taking him away.

Breathe. He has to breathe.

Peter is not there.

Not in the middle of no where.

Certainly not with his parents.

But he is here. In the Avengers Tower. With Dr. Josh.

He just needs to focus. He needs to breathe. His brain is running too fast and there’s too many thoughts. Peter hates him, hates Dr. Josh. The plane crashed, his parents were alive and he was carried away from them. They died by this man who was supposed to be a doctor. Peter couldn’t help but feeling the anger, over a decade of anger boiling inside of him.

Peter was never good at not saying what he thought. Words were just out of his mouth before he even thought them. It’s always been good to stop people from questioning him too much, but now it was nothing but a weakness. There was no control over this, over his words and Peter hated that he couldn’t control them. He just needed to control something and yet he couldn’t even control his stupid words.

“You killed them.”

It didn’t even sound like his own voice. He wasn’t supposed to talk about this. He was told not too. Officially Peter was never there. And he was never meant to talk about this. He should have forgotten this.

Captain America, Steve Rogers was the first one to move, pushing himself backwards in his chair before standing up. Peter didn’t like the stance Steve took, he recognized it from school and from muggers too. It was made to intimidate. It worked. Peter found himself pushing against Tony. He didn’t know if that was to shield himself or to shield Tony. It felt selfish though.

“Kid?” Tony whispered.

He was clearly hesitant, scared of Peter, for Peter? Honestly, Peter wasn’t so sure. All Peter knew was that he was angry, and the man who ruined his whole life was just sitting there, like this was no big deal like it was nothing. He sat there, just barely a fake look of concern like he didn’t even recognize Peter.

“You don’t even remember me. You’re the reason my parents died, you introduced yourself as a doctor and clearly you fucking lied. They were dying in front of us. Remember that? Instead of helping them you got me out of the seat I was in and walked away. We were the only two who survived, but funny enough neither of us were put on the reports. Officially we never went on that plane. Unofficially you dropped me off in Connecticut to go into foster care, but officially I ran away from my babysitter and managed to sneak onto a train. You remember me now?” The words felt like acid, and Peter didn’t like the way the words felt in his mouth. But he was falling. “Oh, no? See, you introduced yourself to me as Doctor Josh Wilkes.”

Peter didn’t notice how he made his way further into the room. He wasn’t very aware of his body or the words that were spilling out. There was just so much pain, so much that he never talked about to anyone because they were never supposed to know. His world fell apart in front of him when he was too young to understand and Peter never got to tell anyone.

“Peter, I think you’re having a severe panic attack. Can you breathe with me?” That was Dr. Banner.

Dr. Banner was in front of Peter’s face, enough to block his view. Tony’s arms were wrapped around Peter’s waist just enough pressure to help remind Peter where he was. It wasn’t enough for Peter’s thoughts to stay in his head, but his head had been so loud for so long. Letting it out felt better but also worse. He was finally being heard, but this wasn’t what he wanted to happen.

Black Widow- Natasha moved around the room, stationing herself in front of her friend, and Steve looked ready to yell. None of this was what Peter wanted. He needed to gain control. He needed to take a breath and start thinking. But here was Dr. Josh, Clint Barton and everything just felt so much more like a lie. Peter felt like he’d been removed from his body and scrambled before being shoved right back in.

“No. No. You told me you were a Doctor, that you saved lives. That was all a lie. Every word you ever said to me was a lie and I hate you, I do. You told me that plane crash was our secret, that I couldn’t tell anyone. You stole my parents lives, and you ruined mine, and now you’re just sitting there, silent. You’re an Avenger, you are supposed to save lives. Why didn’t you save mine?”

There were tears streaming down Peter’s face. He’d been lied too. The man he hates wasn’t even a real person, just some persona that was put on. He hated an Avenger and he never thought he would. Peter hates Clint Barton for what was done to him. And he hates that Clint just sits there not saying anything. Looking at Peter with his eyebrows raised but otherwise looking unaffected.

He had to leave. He needed to leave and go find a place to breathe. It’d been too long and everything hurt too bad. Peter was only 6, barely had any life and yet had it all torn from him.

Peter waiting another moment for Clint to say something.

“You’re a coward.” Peter pulled himself out of Tony’s arms. “I’m leaving. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

He was leaving and Peter knew it was wrong. This was everything he hated but he should be more mature about it. Peter was raised to treat people with respect, never to shout, never call someone names. It didn’t matter who the person was, he should always treat them the way he wishes to be treated.

The past should be behind him and he just needed to stop experiencing it. Peter needed to walk away from his past even if that left his parents behind him. His mom wasn’t gasping for air anymore and his dad wasn’t screaming in pain, but this felt the same as it had then. When he was picked up and carried away fighting to go back.

The elevator was too small and it felt like falling. There wasn’t enough air as they went down, down, down. They were going towards the ground way too fast and everything was too cold and- he wasn’t there. Peter is in New York and he’s leaving his past behind. It’d be easier to forget it, but that can’t happen. For now he’s in New York and he is not falling, things are controlled now. He isn’t controlling them but things are controlled and that has to be enough.

“Peter, do you want to talk about it?”

That was Tony. Tony was there walking out of the building with him and he didn’t even notice. Someone was there for him and following him out into the streets and he is upset. This is going to be like Ben all over again. It was all too familiar. Peter is crying and too caught up in his head and he’s being followed by someone who cares again and he is in New York. Last time Peter had a gun held to him because he saw something he shouldn’t and Ben stepped in. Tony would do the same thing as Ben, Peter knows that.

Planes don’t fall out of the sky often but it happened to Peter twice. Muggings happen often, Peter has seen his fair share. It could happen to him again. History repeats itself, everyone says that. This can happen again too, it could. All because of Dr. J- Clint.

“You can’t let him kill you Mr. Stark. I can’t lose anyone else, I can’t watch anyone else die. You and May are all I have left.”

Breathe. He just needs to breathe and it’ll be okay. Peter knows this he just needs to get himself under control. One person should not have any control over him, his life, not like this.

“Alright kiddo. I’m staying right here, and you know May isn’t going anywhere either. We’ll stay by your side no matter what. So lets talk, tell me what isn’t official or don’t. Whatever you need right now.”

Peter nodded. He hated how the air was acid but he had to do this. He’s held it all in, every bad thing. He didn’t talk about things, never the bad things, those were made to be secrets. But it never felt good, it always ached, to keep it all inside. Peter never told May and Ben about his parents, all they knew was the official story. He had never told them about Skip, never talked about it more than what was necessary after May walked in. Never said anything about what happened to give him his powers. He didn’t tell May about watching Ben die. He never said anything to Tony or Happy about a building falling on him or crashing the plane on Coney Island. These memories, these trauma’s are not made to be shared, but he couldn’t hold in in anymore.

His body wasn’t his own and Peter hated not being aware of his actions, pulled too far into the past to understand his movements, his surroundings. When Tony pulled Peter back inside and to the penthouse he hardly recognized his own motions. Sitting onto Tony’s couch helped Peter come back to himself, just the tiniest bit.

For the first time ever Peter told someone the unofficial story. There was no talking about nothing. He tells Tony about what it was like to notice the smoke and the flames. He talks about being exposed in the sky and holding his mothers hand as they fall. He speaks about seeing his mom, hearing her and his dad. He explains what is was like to be carried away, fighting to be with them, knowing they’d die. Peter tells Tony about what it’s like in foster care, about being considered a flight risk because officially he ran away from his babysitter.

Peter tells Tony everything.

And Tony listens.

Peter thought he’d feel better. He never expected to feel like every problem is solved, but he thought he’d at least feel the tiniest bit better. This wasn’t better though.

Maybe it was a mistake.

These big, scary traumatic things were supposed to be kept to himself. They might have changed his life but they didn’t need to affect anyone else’s.

“This is the first time you’re telling anyone any of this?” Tony hand’s Peter hot chocolate as he asks this question, it feels like a stupid question to Peter, he wasn’t supposed to talk about it so why would he tell anyone.

“I was told I couldn’t tell anyone about my parents. Dr. Josh, Clint, he sat me down and told me no one could actually know how my parents died, that it was our secret. He’d check in on me for a few years after to make sure May and Ben didn’t know. Clint told me that the big scary thing things that happen to a person aren’t made to be shared with others and that no one would believe me, so I didn’t tell anyone. I’m supposed to do what adults tell me, it’s not a big deal.”

Tony hummed, sipping his own drink. Peter didn’t like the way Tony looked at him, like a mystery that revealed itself. It was close to the look Peter gets when people find out his parents are dead and one of his guardians died too, but it wasn’t quiet it. Tony also held some level of anger in his eyes and Peter didn’t know who that was directed at.

“Peter you literally exploded when you saw Clint, that was a pretty big deal. Him telling you not to share the first big traumatic thing to happen to you is a pretty big deal too, especially because he told you that he was a doctor. It’s all big deal.”

Peter groaned. He should have had better control. It was already a bad day and his head was too clouded with the past. It was a mistake. A blip. Peter should have done better.

“FRIDAY, could you ask Clint Barton to come up here?”

FRIDAY confirmed and Peter realized that this was another mistake. Why couldn’t he just stop himself? He wasn’t good at this. This was a mistake. Peter was raised to do what was right but he only made mistake after mistake. Everything he’s done was a mistake.

“What are you doing kid?”

Planes fall from the sky. Planes that hold Peter have fallen. They are world ending and Peter’s world has ended over and over. He blamed the person that Clint was pretending to be. Peter blamed a lie.

“He forgot me and then I told him he killed my parents and didn’t save my life.”

The elevator dinged out a final warning to what was coming before the doors opened. This time Peter was prepared to see the face of a man who haunted his life. Clint walked in and stayed standing away from Peter and Tony on the other side the coffee table.

“Sorry for yelling at you. It was a bad day. I was taken off guard and said things without any thought.”

Unrecognizable. Cold. Unattached. Empty. Peter’s voice didn’t sound nice, there was no personality. But it had been a long day. There was too many emotions all at once and Peter was tired, it was nearly too much today. All his thoughts and feelings were all too wrapped together, snaked around his heart and lungs. In his throat and into his jaw, squeezing too tight; a mess of what should be neat and organized.

“My mission was to protect you. I was assigned onto that plane and to your parents to make sure you were properly protected. Your parents were agents in the scientific division of SHIELD and were assigned to Oscorp to get intel. We had reason to believe that Oscorp was going to stage a kidnapping to experiment on you. My only job was to keep you safe and when that plane went down I had to get you out of the area before you were taken. SHIELD agents were with your parents by the time we got to safety. We didn’t tell you that you’re Dad’s spine was crushed or your Mom’s lungs were filled with blood, there was no saving them. Even if I helped them first they would not have survived, if I was a doctor it wouldn’t have made a difference. My mission was to protect you. I had to drop in after that every once in a while after that because Oscorp still had their eyes on you. I got reassigned when they stopped following you.”

Peter’s mind reeled. Hardly able to process the words being told. None of it made sense. It didn’t feel much like the truth. Peter still ended up at Oscorp and bad things still happened.

“Well you failed then. You’re mission was a failure.” Peter couldn’t help but laugh. “Oscorp doesn’t give school’s tours, especially not high schools. But they gave my school a tour, but only my class. You did not succeed at your one job. I was there, got separated from my class. After that some Oscorp employees tended to show up where I was for a few months, offered me summer camp opportunities a few internships. I never took them especially not once I got this internship. But they never stopped. Oh, and I was friends with Harry Osborn, for years actually, went over to his house all the time until pretty recently.”

The spider bite. Peter always thought it was an accident. A coincidence. But now it was making sense. The lab assistant who gave him the wrong directions to the bathroom did that on purpose. He ended up in a room filled with spiders instead of a hallway he expected to lead to the washroom. Oscorp followed him to see if Peter had changed, not because they thought he did something bad or stole from them. It was their plan. Had he of taken the internship who knows what else would have happened.

The mugging that killed Ben, that was probably Oscorp too. It would make sense. Especially if they were watching Peter. The gun was pointed at Peter first, meant to shoot him. Maybe they expected Peter to do something, confirm any theory they may have had about him. Instead Ben got in the way and died. And Peter didn’t do anything that day, or that week, not even that month. Oscorp stopped reaching out as much after that. They weren’t at his favourite places anymore and he got less mail from them. Every once in a while they still offered an internship to him, but it wasn’t a consistent thing like before. There wasn’t anything consistent.

“Clint, I think it’s time for you to leave.” That was Tony. Tony was nice. Tony helps. “Peter, buddy, you need to remember to breathe. C’mon Roo, I know that was a lot but breathe for me, please.”

He couldn’t do it. Everything about Peter was a lie. The man he blamed was a lie. The idea his parents could be alive was a lie. The reason Ben died was a lie. Everyone lied to him, his entire life, every traumatic experience came from a lie. Being Spider-Man came from a lie and working with Tony rooted from one too. There was no truth. He was never given the truth.

Peter couldn’t do it. He didn’t want to. Nothing was true. How could he do anything real, or true? His life was a pile of lies stacked on top of each other in a way to control him and to manipulate. There’s no control here, this was a fall and every time there was something to grab onto it just disappeared. Nothing was real, it wasn’t real. Someone else pulled the strings on his life and now they’ve all been cut and there’s nothing holding him up anymore.

Alone. He’s alone and he can’t do this. Just a kid who lost everyone on a lie. Peter never had a chance to control anything, Everything was set up for him to react in certain ways, he had no choice, probably never did.

“Peter, buddy, c’mon, breathe for me. Don’t do this, you’re going to hurt yourself. I know this was a lot, but Roo, you’ll get through this, I know this was a lot, your whole life thrown at you in one go. I’m here with you.”

Focus on Tony. He needed to breathe, gain control here. But this was wrong, all of it was wrong. Peter had been through a lot but this was something else entirely. How can any expect him to get through this?

“No. No, Mr. Stark. I can’t- I can’t do this. I’m not- it’s not- it’s a lie. I can’t do this.”

He was sobbing, face tomato red. Tears were streaming down his face, his body shook just like the plane that went down. He couldn’t calm down and he hated himself for it. Peter couldn’t control the way his thoughts always went to his biggest traumas, and now he couldn’t control the way he was reacted. Maybe none of this ever happened, and that’s just a lie too. There’s no proof that he isn’t dead or in a coma or even lost his mind. It’s all been a lie this far, it could be a lie past that.

Arms wrapped around Peter. They held him tight and he fought them at first trying to break free. He needed to be free of them, free of his thoughts. He only struggled for a few minutes before finally being able to relax, entire body going limp.

Everything was too much. It was too much.

And Peter was falling from the sky. Falling too fast and too hard into the rest of his life. There was no way to catch himself, not at these speeds. He was just a six year old with too much heartache. No Spider-Man there to catch him, no webs strong enough. Peter was falling from the sky and he couldn’t stop.

But Tony is there, and Tony will be there to catch Peter before he crashes.

Taglist (DM/Send an ask if you would like to be added):

@erinbeanie @jean-and-diet-coke @dead-inside-pt2 @they-were-cloudsinmycoffee @parkersjiggle @7peternotparker7 @thatonecrackheadshipper @kevinthewoman @faline4you @lynxshinon @narutoyaoifan @pastelwheeler

#irondad #peter parker #spiderson #tony stark #avengers #marvel #mcu #spiderman #iron man #hurt peter parker #whump peter parker #clint barton #steve rogers #natahsa romanoff #bruce banner #marvel cinematic universe #irondad and spiderson #peter and tony #sad peter parker

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parkersharthook · 4 years

Text

Leaves From The Vine

(Peter Parker x reader)

Warnings: angst, minor violence, mentions of neglectful parents, possibly tiggering backstory, mentions of avatar: the last airbender throughout including the title lol

5.9k+ words

A/n: okay so i’m weirdly proud of this even though it’s like really random? i’ve had this story as a dream for the last week so I just had to write it and I really like the beginning but it kind of falls apart towards the end lol. also if you don’t know atla it’s chill.

enjoy! also requests are open

A secret about you comes out that forces you to spill all the painful memories of your childhood. It causes you to fear for your position in Peter’s life.

It was tense in the conference room. Everyone sat in complete silence. Your glassy eyes watched Tony pace at the head of the table while you bit your lip and fiddled your fingers nervously. He would pause for a moment and then resume his pacing, never taking his eyes off you. There was another fidgety presence pressed against the far wall of the room, out of your direct eyeline, but you could make out his shadow in your peripheral. You didn’t think you deserved to look at him, not right now.

“I’m gonna go.” His voice was quiet and terse, his movements rigid and frustrated as he practically sprinted for the door. He yanked it open with superhuman strength, almost pulling it straight off the hinges. A head of blonde and a pair of heels followed hurriedly after him. You winced as the door slammed shut and hung your head in shame. You really didn’t mean for it to come to this.

4 hours earlier

“Do you want Chinese?”

You didn’t answer, your fingers curling gently around Peter’s hair. You followed his natural curve pattern before untwisting it and then moving it in the opposite direction. You were completely entranced with the fluffy head of hair settled nicely in your lap.

Peter sighed and rolled his eyes fondly as he looked into your face. He recognized the look: eyes locked in on the strand of hair, lips parted slightly, short tuffs of air coming out regularly. His hair had your undivided attention.

This happened sometimes and it wasn’t always something you could control. You’d find something small and insignificant to focus on and slowly disassociate from the world. Sometimes your thoughts were about the task you had undertaken or sometimes they were about anything and everything. On your better days, you called it your ‘Avatar State’.

The first few times it happened, Peter had startled you out of it (on accident of course) which left you embarrassed and him apologetic. Over the course of your 6 month relationship however, he learned. And while he didn’t really want to disturb you, his stomach was growling up something fierce and needed food. His hand snaked upward slowly and slightly before it gently landed on you knee. He rested it there for a moment before giving it a light squeeze.

He saw you blink, your eyes watering and then refocusing quickly. You blinked a few more times before inhaling deeply and looking around. Peter smiled at you and then smiled wider when your gaze made it down to his face. You combed your hand through his head with more purpose this time, “sorry. Zoned out there for a bit.”

“no worries. Hungry?” You nodded and Peter immediately sat up and moved off the bed causing you to frown.

He whined dramatically, “Babe, I’m so hungry. My dad said he got Chinese so it’s either that or we leave this tower immediately to get some food.”

You rolled your eyes and lazily rolled off the bed, strolling up to Peter and throwing your arms around his neck like you had all the time in the world. You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling back, “so needy.”

“the neediest. Now c’mon, I’m hungry.” He grabbed your hand and quickly pulled you towards the door. You laughed as you trailed behind him as he pulled you through the long hallways until you reached the kitchen.

“Thank god you two showed up. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could fight off these heathens for you to get food.” Tony said bitterly as he put his body in front of a good pile of cartons. Peter could see both Bucky and Sam eyeing the pile with hungry eyes, despite the large amount of food on both of their plates.

“yes! You’re the best dad!” Peter quickly vaulted over the couch and ran to the kitchen to grab the food. You were much slower and much less graceful as you walked around the furniture like a normal person. You often compared yourself to Sokka while surrounded by superheroes.

You smiled at the older man, “thank you Tony.”

“of course.” You settled against the counter, quickly digging into a carton of noodles.

Sam narrowed his eyes at peter, “why do they get so much food?”

“because we like them better.” Steve said casually as he strolled into the room with Morgan on his hip.

Peter pointed his fork at Sam, “haha.” Then turned to his dad, “great timing pops. You’re the best.”

“I thought I was the best?” Tony called from the couch.

“sorry you’ve been demoted.” Peter stated casually causing you to laugh.

Tony turned and pouted before looking at you. “y/n you think I’m the best right?”

You quickly held your hands up in defense, “I’m not in the middle of this.”

Bucky shook his head, “Good choice y/n, you’re too smart for their nonsense.” Your eyes caught his metal arm, remembering when you gave him the nickname of sparky-sparky boom man a few weeks ago. You had quickly covered your mouth in embarassment before Clint began laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe. It had actually ended up with you not murdered, surprisingly.

Morgan perked up, clumsily pushing her curls out of her face with a little baby hand. Her voice drew you back, “Even me Unc’ Buck?”

Bucky smiled softly and pushed her hair back, “Course not Morgan. Everyone knows you’re the smartest of them all.”

Morgan giggled happily and then looked over to you with a big smile. You smiled back just as largely.

“I take it back, Morgan’s my favorite!”, you stated seriously. A chorus of groans from your boyfriend and his dads could be heard. You smiled and looked around as more avengers began to file in. Peter slid closer and bumped your hip with his, offering you a small smile. Oh, so this is what happy looked like.

Now

“Tony.. I-” He silence you immediately with a raised hand a little ‘ump’ noise. Your mouth clamped shut with an audible click. He waited for a moment before his hand landed back on his chin and his pacing began again. His eyes still burned into your skin. Great job with the parents, you thought bitterly to yourself.

You winced under his gaze a moment later and ducked your head, your whole body slouching and your hand coming up to fiddle with the ends of your hair. You could feel the gaze of nine pairs of eyes on you and it made you wildly uncomfortable. You didn’t like being the center of attention, that’s why you kept this a secret. But look where that got you now.

2 hours earlier

“Hey Pete, can I come in?” Steve called from behind the door with a small knock.

“yeah it’s open.” Peter called back. Steve entered the room to find Peter laying on his bed in a slightly bent shape, with you copying his position but with your head at the foot of the bed. Peter was fiddling with a loose strand of thread on your sock and Steve couldn’t help but smile at the sight. You two were good for each other.

“I need you to watch Morgan for a little bit, we got called in for an emergency meeting at SHIELD.”

“everything okay? Am I needed?”

Steve shook his head, “no it’s not a mission it’s about something else… I don’t really know. I usually stop listening when fury starts talking.” The sentence startled a laugh out of you. Steve smiled at you, “he’s usually full of hot hair.” Steve shrugged causing you to smile wider. Man, you wish you had a dad like him.

“but all’s good?”

“yeah it’s fine, not even everyone is going, just me, your dad, Wanda, and Sam. Both Bruce and Vision will be in the lab if you need something but they’re working on some project or another. Clint’s not allowed to babysit unsupervised, like you know and Bucky and Nat are currently… well occupied…”

You stifled a giggle at the shade of red Peter turned. “ew dad.”

He chuckled slightly, “sorry. But do you mind watching her? It’ll only be for an hour or two.”

“yeah of course.” Both you and Peter shifted slightly and got off the bed. “is she in the living room?”

“yeah she’s with your dad coloring. Tell him to hurry up, will you?”

“Yeah I got you. Good luck with whatever is going on.”

“yeah thanks kid.”

You and Peter walked to the living room, Morgan instantly perking up and rushing towards you guys. She barreled into your legs, causing you to stumble back with a laugh as Peter steadied you. You smiled at the happy toddler as you bent down and picked her up.

“yeah thanks Morg, forget all about Daddy. Real great.” You laugh as Tony slowly picked himself off the floor, groaning slight.

“Pops says to hurry up. We got the little rascal.” Morgan squealed at the name as Peter quickly moved to tickle her stomach.

“Yeah, yeah I’m going.” He paused and planted firm clap on Peter’s shoulder before pressing a sloppy kiss to Morgan’s forehead just to make her laugh. To your surprise however, Tony also placed a delicate kiss to your cheek as he left with a little wave. You blushed and found your eyes tearing up slightly at the fatherly affection. You quickly pushed down the emotions with a cough and moved to the couch, a wriggling three year old still in your arms. You set her down softly on the ground and she immediately tugged Peter to the floor with her to color. You settled on the sectional behind them watching with a warm smile. You could get used to this.

Now

You felt the tip of a shoe graze against your shin and your head shot up, eyes widening. You didn’t realize you had gone into another disassociation until you met Natasha’s piercing green eyes. She quirked an eyebrow in question and you gave a slight nod trying to signal that all was good. Not that all was good at all really. In fact it felt like you’re entire world was falling apart around you. I mean here you were sitting in a room with nine other fully trained and very intimidating superheroes, and you were absolutely sure you were on the verge of tears and so unbelievably exhausted. But you couldn’t show that so you just nodded shyly.

Your eyes flitted around the room once more. Tony had finally stopped pacing and was now bracing himself against the back of the office chair. Steve reach up and lightly grabbed his wrist, encouraging him to sit down. Tony glanced at Steve’s hand but made no effort to move.

Bucky has folded his hands together, obviously getting impatient. Clint looked bored as he used a knife to dig dirt out from beneath his nails. Rhodey, Sam, and Vision were the definition of calm and collected as they sat politely and silently. Stupid military men/androids and their stupid manners. Wanda and Natasha just looked concerned and kept eyeing you with worry which was honestly making you even more nervous than before.

Tony took a large and loud inhale, practically forcing the attention to him. Your eyes snapped to his, your hands beginning to shake slightly. He narrowed his eyes at you and frowned slightly, “spill.”

45 minutes earlier

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick.” Peter told you as he pushed himself up. Stretching out his legs and groaning from sitting on the hard floor for so long

“yeah no problem.”

Morgan turned to you, “can we color more?”

“of course sweetheart. Let’s get some more paper from the kitchen table.” You stood from the couch and held out your hand for the child to take. She did so happily and skipped behind you with a large smile on her face. You were about 6 yards from the kitchen when something went terribly, terribly wrong.

You’re not even sure what happened and you doubt you’d be able to recall it in the future. In one second flat, red lights started flashing, alarms began to blare, the large windows on the wall shattered to a million pieces, and large scary looking things rushed towards you.

Looking back on it, you’re sure that you blacked out and were running on pure instinct and adrenaline. Because only a fraction of a second later did you thrust your hand toward a robot, not waiting to see if it went down before curling your body around Morgan and raising a hand above your head to protect yourself. Morgan was crying against your chest and you did your best to console her with your free hand, your other one shaking and straining to stay raised.

You don’t know how long you were in that position, you had your eyes squeezed too tightly shut and you were deathly scared of what would happen if you opened them. Logically, you told yourself, nothing would change and your vision would remain dark. But you couldn’t risk it.

What felt like an eternity later you finally heard a voice. It was soft but obviously scared and sounded far away. You very cautiously opened your eyes, putting your hand against Morgan’s head and pushing her further against your chest. Nothing was getting to this child, so help you god. You looked around, only seeing darkness, and strained your ears.

“y/n? Morgan?” That was Peter. He sounded worried, anxious even. He called again, this time sounding closer. “Are you in there?”

“Peter!” that was someone new. It made you wince causing Morgan to cry harder. She had no idea what was going on and was reacting purely off of what you were doing. You had to stay calm, for her. “What happened!?” Tony. That was Tony. Oh no… he probably came home once the alarm sounded.

You looked down to the sobbing child in your arms and knew that nothing would stop Tony from seeing his baby. And you didn’t want to cause any more harm, so very slowly you lowered your arm. The rock barrier you put around you and the child lowered with it.

You squinted against the harsh intake of lights but quickly refocused and saw every. Single. Damn. Avenger standing in front of you looking both concerned and absolutely flabbergasted.

“what the fuck?” peter stuttered out, looking to where Morgan was still sniffling against you. Very quickly Morgan picked her head up at the noise of her brother’s voice and caught his eye. Her eyes quickly welled up again but then she noticed her dads and absolutely took off to find comfort in them. You didn’t blame her, you would love a nice hug right about now. But from the looks on the faces of the people around you, you really didn’t think you were gonna get one.

Steve’s gaze on you hardened immediately, “y/n, you have some explaining to do.” All you could do was nod dumbly from your place on the floor. You didn’t notice you were crying as well.

Now

“spill.”

“tony, maybe you should sit down.” Steve’s voice was soft and reassuring. Damn you wish it was directed at you right now.

Natasha was next, “Tony, you’re scaring her. Sit down.”

He threw his hands around, “I’m scaring her!?” you flinched at the loud sound. It didn’t go unnoticed by the heroes. Tony continued on, “She- she- she fucking controlled the earth around her! I didn’t know where Morgan was! If the intruders had gotten her or if she was dead somewhere and there she was, with- with her!” The finger pointed at you felt threatening and harsh. More tears spilt from your eyes.

Sam shot out of his seat, anger clouding his features. “Stand down.” Tony glared at him, neither refusing to back down. Sam seethed, “she’s a child. She’s scared. And right now Tony, she’s scared of you.” The words caused Tony to deflate slightly. “she saved Morgan. Sit your ass down before I make Steve carry you out of here.”

Tony sent another glare Sam’s way before landing in his chair clumsily. He didn’t meet your gaze again, preferring to stare at the wooden table instead. But his hands were clenched, obviously still angry about the situation.

“I’m sorry.” You words were broken and hoarse and didn’t even sound like you. You felt warm hands cover your own, it was Nat, but you pulled away. You didn’t deserve that. Not right now.

“y/n…” Sam started slowly. That was his therapist voice. It was calming. You tried your hardest to focus on that. “y/n… this is a confusing situation for everyone. But we would really like to talk about this. To figure out what happened.”

“I- I don’t know what happened.”

“you don’t know?” Bucky pressed gently.

You shook your head, “no. there were alarms and lights and I don’t know what those things were or who they were or what they wanted. I just acted on instinct. I kinda think I blacked out.”

“and the rock shield?”

“the rock shield?” you looked up confused. Oh… OH. Fuck, your brain was scattered right now. “oh. Yeah. That.”

“yeah, that.” Tony bit back harshly.

“um…” you looked around the room, “I kind of have… powers?”

20 minutes earlier with Peter

“I’m gonna go.” Peter bolted out of that room. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, couldn’t think. There were delicate hands against his shoulders and then against his neck and cheeks. For a moment he thought they were yours but then straight hair and hard eyes and… and your eyes were soft and not as business-like so this wasn’t you. Peter focused in more and saw Pepper standing in front of him.

“breathe. Peter, you need to breathe.” She was talking to him. Instructing him more like it and finally he began to listen, sucking in a deep breath and letting it out shakily. “there you go, keep breathing.” Her hands were cool against his warm cheek and it felt good, really good. But he was too keyed up after the attack and the adrenaline was still kicking and he couldn’t breathe.

“peter.” She tapped his cheek lightly, “listen to me right now. Breathe. C’mon do it with me. In and out, in and out, there you go, in and out.”

Slowly he began to fall into a rhythm and calm down. His shoulders dropped and his posture sagged and his eyes drooped slightly. He was tired now. The adrenaline was gone and now he was just spent.

“let’s go sit with Morgan. Your dads finally got her to bed and if she wakes up from a nightmare it’ll be good for you to be there.” All peter could do was nod.

Pepper guided him to the room with a hand on his back. She was sleeping peacefully in the middle of a bed that was slightly too large for her but adorable none the less. The edge barriers were still in place to keep her from rolling off and Peter found himself smiling at the sight. Pepper pushed him gently to the couch and forced him to lay down on it before settling in the rocking chair herself. She was happy to note that Peter was asleep within the next five minutes. Pepper just sat there and watched her two god children sleep away their troubles.

Now in the meeting

“You… you have powers?” Rhodey asked, dumbfounded and shocked.

You bit your lip and nodded, “kinda?”

“is it a question?” rhodey pressed, you shook your head.

“No sir.” You gulped, “I have powers.” You voice was shaky, everyone could tell you were running on false confidence.

“powers…” Rhodey repeated again.

Clint chuckled, “can’t say I expected that one.” Tension left your body at the light humor. You were always comfortable around Clint, despite his tendency to wreak havoc wherever he went. He just seemed so much like the fun uncle you always wanted, cracking jokes and easing tension despite the situation. It was nice… he was something you could focus on now.

“y/n?” You shook out of the trance to see Bucky staring at you, he had obviously been repeating your name up until this point.

You blushed harder, a shaky hand pushing hair behind your ear. “sorry.”

“I asked if you could explain.” You cocked your head slightly. He waved his hand slightly and continued, “I mean if you could explain how you got them.”

“oh…” You wanted to say no. Wanted to refuse that private part of your life that was just yours. Wanted to keep the dirty secret you always hated so much just that… a secret. “yeah, I guess if you want me to.”

Wanda stepped in immediately. “only if you want to.” You met her gaze, right… she could read minds.

“No. We deserve an explanation for what happened out there.” Tony interrupted roughly, “we’ve known this girl for six months. She’s dating Peter and we didn’t know this about her? You’re not on any registry? Not in any news outlet? Obviously Peter didn’t know because he panicked his way right out of here. You can’t expect me to-”

“I’ll tell you!” You shouted, just to get him to stop. You couldn’t take it. You didn’t want him to list all the ways you fucked up. You knew it already, you were repeating the same list in your head. “I’ll tell you…”

“y/n…” That was Nat again. Ugh, you wished they weren’t so concerned for you, it would make everything so much easier.

“no it’s fine, really. I don’t want to burn any bridges or have you guys not trust me. I’ll tell you... but it’s kind of a long story, and not super pleasant.”

You could feel the air in the room shift slightly to something more somber. Backs straightened, eyes averted away from you towards inanimate objects, hands clasped together, people prepared themselves.

“I’m sure that when I started dating Peter, you all did background checks on me so you know a little of my history… but there’s a lot that’s not on there.” You took a deep breath, “when I was seventeen, my younger brother came out to my parents as trans and they kicked him out. He was only fourteen and didn’t have anywhere to go. I fought for him obviously which got me kicked out as a result. So we went to a shelter, I forged some documents saying I was 18 and his guardian so they didn’t call CPS.

“I started looking for a job to pay for us and a cheap apartment. Found this really shitty little rat hole for us but it worked. I slept on the couch and gave him the bed, but they were in the same room so it didn’t really matter. I got a job as an assistant at an engineering company nearby. It was honestly the best job I could hope for at the time: the boss was really kind, paid pretty decently, worked with school hours so I could continue going to school. It was good.

“I would go to this work after school and be the assistant for the CEO, he was this older gentleman who had the sweetest family and soon enough he became a sort of father figure for me. He never knew of my situation, I’m sure he would’ve done something if he did.” Your eyes grew a little misty at the memories. The others could tell how this was going to end.

“After about a year of working there, I was close to graduating high school and pretty much assumed college wasn’t an option for me. I still had to take care of my brother and couldn’t afford any books, and definitely not a university. But I accepted it and just got ready to work full time.”

“there was this one night where Mr. Frederickson, my boss, texted me saying I left my textbook in his office. And I wasn’t going to go back that night but the building was closed for annual inspections the next day and I had to get it back to the library or they would fine me, and money was really tight.

“Mr. Frederickson was still working and the nightshift had already come in, so it wasn’t sketchy or anything so I just stopped by the office to get my textbook, no big deal right? Well for the maybe… fifteen minutes that I was in the office, something malfunctioned and caused a big enough explosion to level the entire plant.” You sighed heavily, “fifty people in there at the time, I was the only survivor.”

Gasps filled the room. You didn’t meet their eyes, you didn’t want the sympathy.

“I was told that Mr. Frederickson survive the initial explosion but had too much smoke inhalation and passed soon after the first responders found him. I don’t remember much from it, I was knocked unconscious but the doctors said I got really lucky because I left with only a concussion and some lacerations. But… I got really lucky. It was a huge press field day though so I had to stay anonymous to protect my family… not that I had much family to protect. The police told me that their investigation concluded that there wasn’t any foul play and it was purely accidental which was good to hear, I didn’t want anyone coming after me or anything….”

“y/n…” Bucky’s voice was thick with emotion, “was this the Right Way Engineering Company?”

You nodded dumbly and watched as he and Sam shared a look. Sam sighed, “y/n we were there as first responders. I… I was the one who pulled you out of the rubble.”

“oh.” You squeaked. You coughed slightly, “thank you for saving my life.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. We didn’t get your name before the ambulance took you and we wanted to check in but we couldn’t find you in the hospital and the nurses wouldn’t give us any information…” Sam sounded distraught which didn’t make sense to you.

You shrugged slightly, “there’s nothing you could’ve done. I don’t remember anything so it’s not like I needed therapy.” You chuckled humorlessly

“So the explosion caused your powers?” Clint asked, humor far from his tone

You nodded, “I assume so. I never knew what they did in the factory you know? I just stuck to coffee orders and mail runs but I guess whatever they were doing gave me these powers.”

“And what are… what are those powers?” you kinda forgot that Vision was in the room with how quiet he was being.

“I can control the four elements… kinda like the avatar but I don’t expect you guys to get that reference.” You mumbled the last bit and missed the look of excitement wash over Clint and Bucky’s face.

“y/n…. you’re Aang.” Clint stated with a huge smile on his face.

Your eyes shot to his, “you know the show?”

“know the show?! I am an ATLA fanatic! I write fanfiction for it!” that caused you to laugh and suddenly you felt so much better. “why do you think I loved the nickname ‘sparky-sparky boom man’ so much?”

“wait is all the spirit stuff accurate?” Bucky suddenly asked causing you to look at him in shock.

“you too?”

“Oh yeah, Clint put it on my catch up list and thank god he did. Best show ever.” Little chuckles fell from your lips at the admission.

“umm not that I know of? And I can’t produce the elements like they can. I can only control what’s around me. So air is the most abundant but I rarely use fire.”

“I’m sorry… I’m a little confused. You can… control? The elements?” Steve asked, utter bewilderment across his face.

You bit your lip and nodded, using your fingers to send a warm breeze across his face. Clint giggled with a cheeky grin.

He whispered loudly, “best day ever.”

“so you pulled a rock shield over you and Morgan when you saw you were being attacked?” Nat supplied with a small smirk.

“yeah I guess, it was all pretty instinctual and fast pace. I didn’t even realize I did it until Peter started calling my name.” Your heart beat a little heavier at his name.

You forced yourself to meet Tony’s gaze once again, finding less intensity and more pity.

Rhodey raised his hand slightly, “I don’t mean to pry but Peter said he met you at college? I thought you didn’t go?”

“oh, apparently Mr. Frederickson put me in his will. I babysat for him a few times and got close with his wife and kids and grandkids so I guess he considered me family. I used the money to put me and my brother in a slightly better college apartment and went to Brooklyn College on a small scholarship. It ends up only being around $500 a semester and I have a job at the library so I get free access to books and sometimes they put my paycheck directly against my tuition. I’ve put the rest away for my brother to go to college. He’s going to graduate high school next year.” A small smile graced your lips as you said it. Damn, the kid was growing up.

“have you had tests done?” You hadn’t heard Tony’s voice in so long that it startled you.

You shook your head, “I tried to do a little research but it’s not like a common disease or anything and there’s no one I trusted enough to tell and it’s not like I have access to that equipment or the knowledge of what to test for.”

Tony just nodded slyly. Steve was next, “so why hide it?”

You shrugged and fiddled with a loose thread. “no offense or anything, but I wasn’t really interested in the whole superhero thing. I had to take care of my brother and myself and I didn’t really have the emotional capacity to worry about anyone else. Plus, it’s not like vigilantes get paid so it just wasn’t an option. And what else was I going to use them for? Become a travelling freak show and ultimately gain the attention of either you guys or bad guys and then get sucked into this life? No thanks. So I just didn’t tell anyone.”

“Does your brother know?”

You chuckled slightly, “no, he has such a big mouth. I’ve always wanted to tell him and it’s not that I don’t trust him, he’s just excitable sometimes and I worry it’ll slip out. Plus, the less he knows the safer he is.”

“y/n, we’re really sorry for how this all went down.” Steve suddenly said sincerely. You gave him a tight lipped smile. “I’m sorry for how I behaved, I was just shocked and scared and confused. You are more than welcome here anytime and I don’t want it to seem like you’re not.”

You were about to respond but Tony cut you off, “Peter doesn’t know about this?” You shook your head. “any of it?”

“He knows my brother and that we live together. But I think he assumes that was a choice or we had a lack of parent situation. I think he was just too nice to ask about it. But that’s it.”

Tony hummed as he leaned on his hand. “do you guys mind giving me and y/n the room?”

You stiffened slightly. Wanda spoke up for you, “tony is that the best idea?”

“I’m not going to scream at her. I just want to talk to her without you morons eavesdropping. Is that okay y/n?”

And how do you turn down Iron Man, Tony Stark, father to your boyfriend? “yeah sure.”

The avengers filed out dutifully leaving you and tony and a long table between you two. Tony sighed and stood up before settling in the chair closest to you.

“well first off, I’m sorry that I exploded on you. That wasn’t cool. Like Steve, I was scared for Morgan and confused and I didn’t know what was happening. I’ve had people in my life that I trusted turn their backs on me. I didn’t want that for peter.”

“I get it.” You nodded and sighed, “I really do. Ryan, my brother, had a friend tell a secret of his once and I barely contained myself to words so I can only imagine what you were feeling.”

Tony chuckled lightly at that before sobering up slightly. “I’m also really sorry you had to grow up so soon. No one should be a caregiver at 17 and it very well shouldn’t continue on until your 21 so I’ve got you now.”

“pardon?”

“everything. It’s on me. You make peter happy and you saved Morgan, it’s the least I can do. I’ll put you and your brother in a nicer apartment closer to your college and monthly groceries will be delivered, just let me know what you want. His college too, everything. I’ll take care of it.”

“Tony… I can’t accept that.”

He looked at you deeply, “You saved Morgan and you make Peter happy. We all love you. You deserve better and I have more money than I know what to do with. Let me help you.”

“I-I…” You sighed and then groaned slightly because you knew Tony, “I don’t really have a choice do I?”

He laughed and patted your knee, “not really. I’ve already had FRIDAY start up the papers and transfers needed.”

You felt tears come to your eyes and you couldn’t help it. Before you knew it, you threw yourself into his chest and wrapped your arms tightly around his middle. You sagged in relief when you felt his arms wrap around you as well.

It was nice. It was safe.

“You need to tell Peter about this though. And probably your brother.”

“I will, no more hiding from now on. I’ll tell them both everything.” You bit your lip as you separated from the man, “is peter going to be mad?”

“not even a little bit.”

And he wasn’t, to your relief. He just held you close as you cried and offered you comforting words. He also didn’t leave you out of his sight for the rest of the night, taking you home all the way to Brooklyn and then buying dinner for you and Ryan and then sitting with you as you explained everything to your brother.

Overall, it went better than expected but it was still something to get used to. But now you had this family, a supportive one for a change, so you knew you didn’t have to deal with it alone.

3 months later

“Is Kate going to be there?”

“can you chill out? You’re such a teenage boy.” You nudged Ryan as the two of you rode the elevator up the tower.

“well yeah, I am 17.” He scoffed in return

“yes, I’m sure she’ll be here. But don’t flirt with her too obviously or Clint will literally kill you. And I know I’ve been practicing with my powers but I don’t think I can save you from a master assassin.”

“rude.”

You let out a short laugh as the elevator doors opened, the two of you walking out towards the large training center.

“hey Ryan!” Peter called from his perch on the roof with a small wave. That is until a net arrow was quickly shot his way and he had to jump out of the way. Your eyes travelled to Kate who was using your boyfriend as a human target practice, much to Clint’s chagrin.

“remember to use double release on opponents who are quick, it’ll make it easier to trap them.” He turned to you with a grin, “think fast.” In a blink he had his arrow drawn and let it fly right towards your face, your arm immediately going up to protect you and your brother with a slab of rock.

You lowered it with a grimace, “you’re going to kill me one of these days.”

“then get better.”

Ryan leaned closer and nudged you, “thank you so much for boning an avenger. This is the best.”

You shoved him lightly with a laugh, “you’re the worst.” But yeah… this kinda was the best.

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bonesthebeloved · 4 years

Text

You did to me what tsunamis do to homes- Sanders Sides

@lance-alt

Summary: Patton and Remus fuse for an experiment. Then they fuse again. Then they stay fused because Patton wants too. When the others finally find out how bad it is hurting Remus, the damage is already done and they have to deal with the aftermath. Wordcount: 3849 words Relationships: Platonic creativitwins, Romantic Intruloceit. TRIGGER/ SQUICK WARNING: !UNSYMPATHETIC PATTON!, mental abuse, neglection, manipulation, dismissal, swearing, disassociation, shouting, panic attack mention (brief), some plushy and clothes get ripped apart I guess, vomiting, (idk how to tag this but Patton flirts with Roman while he and Remus are fused so that), Crying, food mention. (If I forgot anything please let me know. this is a heavy one and I don’t wanna accidentally hurt people with it.)

Patton being unsympathetic/ abusive isn’t really explained but I don’t have the brain cells for that atm so let’s just say he thinks he can protect Thomas this way and is willing to do anything to ‘keep him safe’ however incorrect he may be.

After this post by @lance-alt (Hope you like it bud.)

They had found out that they could fuse because of creativity. Remus and Roman had finally reconnected enough for them to be friendly with each other again. Baking and making a mess of the kitchen while loudly singing Disney songs at 10 am, sitting on the couch together to watch crappy horror movies and laughing at how terrible the special effects were. Dancing in the living room to Panic! at the disco, with energy so high it could match Patton’s when he had too much sugar.

When Remus had grabbed his brother to spin in circles, the soul reason just being him simply wanting to do so now that he could, when something had happened.

Bright light and they both weren’t quite themselves anymore.

A stumble as they looked down. The floor much further away and their body not quite theirs.

It had been exciting, to be the King again. Remus had made them hug themselves and Roman had spun them around before both of them made them run towards Patton’s room.

When they unfused again there had been confusion. When they fused again Logan had conducted an experiment.

And now Remus was in the logical traits room. Fidgeting his thumbs while Patton picked some music. It wasn’t the duke’s preference. He liked something more upbeat. Something edgier. But Patton had picked the music and this was only for an experiment so he didn’t argue.

Besides. He did not want to get on Patton’s bad side.

The dancing was awkward and so was the fusion. It didn’t feel quite right. Unlike being Romulus where he and his brother just shared the mind and looked through the same eyes, they were in a room. Two chairs in front of a big screen and a control panel. It had been a little odd. But not bad perse so he’d let it slide. Maybe Patton just liked it like this. He didn’t mind. Simply wasn’t used to it yet.

Not that he had to get used to it. This was a one-time thing after all.

When they unfused Logan had been ecstatic. Already asking Patton so many questions about how it had felt and set up a meeting for them to fuse as well so he could witness it first hand.

Remus was dismissed with the wave of a hand. Leaving the room confused and not feeling quite right.

They had fused again after a few days. Patton coming to him with a smile and an offer to try it again because ‘it felt so funny! didn’t it? I think you’re my favourite person to fuse with Remus!’

And Remus couldn’t have known that Patton had only tried it with Logan. Remus couldn’t have known what ‘letting Patton steer the ship’ for a while could have let too.

They were fused the whole day. And inside the room, Remus had sat back. Patton needed time to learn how to properly control their body. And, as he already had experience with fusing with Roman, he let him figure it out, repressing the odd feeling that came with not being himself.

And when they unfused in the evening, Remus too tired to do anything else than simply plop on his bed and fall asleep, Patton said goodbye and that they should do that again sometimes.

A few weeks later and they were barely unfused.

They only separated when it was time to go to bed. Too tired to do anything else and slowly forgetting how to do anything else but sleep and wake up to Patton knocking at his door.

One of the two chairs in the room had disappeared. Remus never sitting on it.

Instead, he said in the corner of the room, trying to ignore the feeling of his limbs moving and touching things even if he sat still himself. Trying to ignore the feeling of their body eating and talking and communicating while he was silent.

At first, he had been trying to pitch into their decisions. But after Patton had made them rip apart the octopus plushy that Roman had gifted his brother on their birthday, threatening to destroy more of his precious belongings if he didn’t work with him, he had settled down.

Remus now barely moved when they were fused. Arms wrapped around his legs, staring blankly at the opposite wall, trying to tune out the sensations and sounds. Trying to not look at himself being so…not himself.

A few months had passed and Patton made their body lay down onto Remus’ bed every time they unfused because Remus couldn’t remember how to move his limbs without somebody else doing it for him

When Logan walked up to them after three months of nonstop fusion, Remus had lifted his head to look up at the screen for the first time in weeks.

“Hey, Pathos.” He disliked that name. But Patton had picked it for them and arguing had only led to Virgil’s old jacket, which he had used as a comforter for when everything got too much, being burned right in front of their eyes. Remus not even having a chair or the power to do anything but watch, tears streaming down his cheeks. Mouth sealed shut because he wasn’t the one that did the talking.

“I know it’s none of my business but I can’t help but ask, don’t you think it might be unhealthy to stay fused all the time? I know you’ve told me that you get things done easier like this, yin and yang and so on. But I also know that it is easy to lose your sense of self in things like this.”

“Oh Logan, thank you so much for worrying about us,” Patton spoke. Remus had lost the ability to flinch at that point. Simply keeping his head low, his body stiff, staring at the wall opposite of him. It had begun to change colour in the last few days.

“And it hasn’t been easy. Believe me, it hasn’t been. Remus and Patton are very different people after all.” Remus’ only response was the twitching of his pinky. On the inside, he was screaming, yelling, hoping that Patton had finally seen the error in his ways.

“Remus really wears on Patton sometimes. With all of his crazy ideas and violent tendencies.” Oh.

“But They’ve found their peace like this. Like me! I think they’re better off like this. And isn’t everything more peaceful now that Remus is under control? Don’t you think it’s better this way?”

Logan looked taken aback by the negative talk towards one of the components of the fusion. Though he didn’t comment on it. Simply nodding, shrugging it off and going about his day while Remus was left in the room with Patton. Trying not to listen to the moral sides thoughts in his head. Trying to get them away from his own. Trying to not think.

Patton just walked them to a mirror. Staring right at it before he spoke.

“You really thought he was going to help you? They know you’re wrong Remus. And if this is the only way for me to keep you away from them then I will carry that burden with pride.”

No. He hadn’t wanted to be free. He hadn’t. Because that would be bad and he wasn’t bad. He wasn’t- “You can’t lie to me, Remus. Or did you forget that I can hear your thoughts as well?”

Remus turned his head again. Retaking his staring contest with the wall opposite of him.

The wall was getting patchy. spots of green and blue interrupting the evenly coloured cyan wall like the wallpaper was coming off.

The fusion got more unstable. With Roman coming up to them to confess that he missed his brother and Virgil crying during a panic attack because he wanted Patton to comfort him but the idea of Remus being there too made his skin crawl.

Logan had begun to figure out what he thought was going on. Pathos seemed too put together. Too nice and cheerful and pg to have them both equal parts controlling him. He didn’t swear. Didn’t make a mess, didn’t do anything like Remus but rather was just a slightly more excentric and charismatic version of Patton.

And that night Remus hung above the toilet. Retching as wave after wave of sick clattered into the toilet bowl. The memory of Patton controlling their body to flirt with his brother making him physically ill. A new wave of bile rising up at the memory of how he had them smile of the thought of Pathos with his brother. Of how Patton’s thoughts about his brother had mixed with his own. Of how uncomfortable Roman had looked until nothing but stomach acid was left and his throat stung and the taste of sick had to be washed away with mouthwash.

The wallpaper was peeling more each day. The corner opposite him now almost fully green and blue.

Virgil had avoided touching them. Stopping his hushed conversations with Logan each time Pathos walked into the room. Eyeing them with suspicious than slowly grew into anger. And Remus felt one of the last strings that attached him to the others snap when they cut up his usual outfit that night. Patton’s anger and sadness at making his best friend this upset coursing through him. Feeling the self hate and hate for him rip at his chest as the sash was cut to pieces. The eye attached to the outfit ripped off and stomped on.

He wasn’t sure which were his own feelings anymore.

The wallpaper was halfway off now. Green and blue replacing Cyan walls. Remus focused on the green parts and silently wished for freedom. When Patton threatened to drown his pet rat he numbed the thoughts until only Patton’s own remained.

Deceit hadn’t spoken to them for an entire month. Though he and Logan were together a lot. Always talking or holding up papers. Always quieting down when they entered the room. When Pathos had confronted Deceit and had wanted to judge him for not communicating with them and say that he could at least be civil, Deceit had actually hissed at them.

“I’m not speaking to you until you give me my friend back Patton.”

Remus had cried that night. Patton having left him on the bed as always. Unmoving. Unresponsive to the almost freezing temperature in his room and the fact that he couldn’t use his blanket to get warm because it had been ripped to pieces. He laid there the entire night. Tears simply streaming down his face as he stared at the wall he was facing. The grey colour of it a nice change to the usual green and blue that had completely taken over the room.

Unmoving when Patton broke his mirror the next morning when they fused again and he had felt tired and cold.

Roman had begun to look at them strangely. His expression was so sad that Remus could feel the hurt from where he was sitting. His brother had stopped talking to them all together after the conversation they’d had. Remus had gotten enough of his willpower back from hearing his brother begging them to un-fuse, to please have his brother back, to finally take action.

They were having dinner when it happened.

Pathos had called all the sides to the dinner table. Wanting to spend some time with all of them because ‘we never talk any more kiddos!’

They were holding the pot of spaghetti, about to put it on the table when they froze.

Virgil cursed loudly when the hot spaghetti dropped onto his lap and arms. Though cursed even louder when he looked to the side and saw the pot lying on the ground and next to it, gripping their head and slowly being consumed by light, was Pathos.

“Stay together! I’m not letting you leave!” A voice, sounding more like Patton’s then the one they had gotten used to coming from the ball of light. All of the sides having jumped up, Logan and Deceit ushering the other two back. Holding their arms out protectively.

“It’s better like this! We’re better like th-” “No!”

And with Remus’ voice, hoarse and terrified sounding, echoing through the room, one silhouette split into two.

And there were Patton and Remus. Patton quickly jumping up from his place on the ground and staring down at Remus with fury in his eyes. His usual outfit on like always. Fists bawled, teeth gritted. Furious.

Patton was about to open his mouth to say something to Remus when he was stopped by a hand gripping his arm. He whipped around to see Logan shake his head. Holding back Deceit, Virgil and Roman with his other arm. The three of them looked ready to kill.

“Go,” Logan said simply. It wasn’t comforting. Wasn’t even a warning. No, with the cold tone and cold eyes and arm holding back the other three it sounded more like a threat than anything else.

Because Remus didn’t look well.

Remus lay curled up on the ground. Not having moved a muscle since they un-fused. Arms around his legs and head bowed down slightly. Eyes staring at something they couldn’t see. Wearing an old t-shirt and joggers instead of his usual outfit. Muscle mass almost completely was gone.

Roman’s vision what white with anger, breath uneven and harsh as he tried to calm himself. Deceit was visibly shaking and Virgil had run out of the room as soon as they knew for sure that Patton had locked himself in his own one. Logan was frozen in place for a good few seconds, snapping out of it as soon as Roman rushed passed him, dropping down to his knees next to his brother.

“Remus? Remus, it’s me! Can you hear me?”

The only response he got was a tear slipping from his brother’s eye. No movement. Rising and falling of his chest the only thing moving his body.

“What the fuck did he do to you…?” Came Deceit’s whisper, coming to sit next to Roman on the floor and lifting Remus’ head up slightly to lay it on his lap.

When Deceit began to carefully card his fingers through grimy hair Remus’ pinky twitched.

“He’s getting back his responses. Keep going.” That was Logan, kneeling down at Remus’ feet and putting a hand on the side’s ankle to show that he was here.

Another twitch.

When Roman carefully wrapped his arms around his brother and leaned his head onto his arm Remus did a full-body shiver and his gaze dropped.

Remus moved his hands. And after repeating the same gestures a few times Logan realised that he was using sign language. “He’s signing your name Roman.” And Roman burst into tears.

“Yes! Yes, Remus, I’m here! We’re all here okay? Logan, Dee, all three of us are here for you okay?”

‘Deceit?’ he signed

The ghost of moralities thoughts swirled in his head. Mixed together with his own so much so that he didn’t know which were his own anymore.

A part of him said Deceit was bad. Evil, wrong, bad, snake, liar.

Another part wanted to simply be held by his long term friend and short term crush. Wanted to be comforted like he would have been had none of this happened. Wouldn’t Deceit have seemed scared to touch him like he would break if he did something wrong.

‘Tired,’ is what he signed instead of the thousands of words he’d been wanting to say. And the three of them seemed to understand.

So Logan picked him up. And Remus tried to ignore the panic that shot through him at being touched so suddenly. Tried to ignore the feeling of wanting to be closer and of knowing that he also felt something for Logan because that would be too complicated.

And when they entered his room he tried to ignore his twisting stomach when all three of them gasped. Deceit insisting he tells them what had happened. Why it looked so empty.

‘He made us destroy it. Had to behave.’ He signed. Happier than anything that he had taken the time to learned to sign a few years ago.

“He…what?” “What is it? What did he say?” Roman pressed Logan, the logical side carefully laying Remus down in his bed, summoning a blanket that was clearly his own and putting it over the creative trait before answering the question. Looking at Deceit and Roman, a frown carved into his face.

“He said that Patton made them destroy his belongings so he would behave.” “He WHAT?!” Deceit roared. And the lump on the bed jumped at the loud noise.

“I’m going to tear that fucker apart!” “Deceit wait! That wouldn’t do him any good right now,” Logan tried to argue. Trying to calm down the fuming Deceit.

It seemed to help a bit. Dee sitting down on the bed next to Roman and holding his head in his hands while Logan summoned a comb and slowly began to work through the knots.

For now, they just had to make sure Remus was alright, Deceit decided. He’d get Patton back for this eventually.

The aftermath of the abuse (because Logan had said, that’s the only way to describe this,) was heavy.

Remus had to learn how to move on his own again. Seemingly having completely forgotten that he had to move his own limbs after such a long time of not being in control.

Logan had, after a long conversation with Remus where not a word was spoken, reported back to the other two to tell them that his muscle mass had declined so much because he had barely moved, if at all, in the last few months.

He had to learn how to walk again. They got him crutches once he could properly lean on his arms again and watched him hobble around the new common room.

Patton had moved his room to another part of the imagination. If he was too ashamed or too stubborn they didn’t know. They still made videos together. But Remus never showed up. Leaving Deceit to fill in his place. He and Patton were never in the same video and the conversations Patton had with the others were short and harsh.

Virgil was indecisive. He and Remus had never gotten along. But as soon as Logan had told him what had happened he felt sick every time he saw Patton.

So Virgil moved to the grey. The neutral part of the imagination where nobody ever went to and that nobody could find unless you weren’t looking for it. He came by on occasion. Talking with Logan or Roman, bickering with Deceit. But it wasn’t quite the same as it had once been.

Roman and Deceit both went and taught themselves sign language. Roman wanting to be able to communicate with his brother once they had realised that he seemed to have completely forgotten how to speak and Deceit wanting to be there in any way possible.

Remus was able to walk again after a month of practice. Wandering around the living room and swinging along gently when music played.

He worked out together with his brother. His strength returning slowly until he was able to enter the imagination again to go on a quest together with Roman.

He grew closer to Deceit as he had ever been. When they finally decided to put a label on things it had felt natural and nothing had changed.

Half a year later and Remus admitted to having fallen for Logan as well. Tears streaming down his face and fingers shaking as he signed the message.

And Deceit had hugged him and kissed his tears away. Telling him that it was alright and that they could figure this out. And after a month or two Deceit announced that he wouldn’t mind Logan joining their relationship. Roman just happy for his brother and his friends and baking them a cake for the occasion.

And not everything was alright.

Remus wore soft sweaters and leggings. Refusing to put on the outfit Roman had remade for him.

And they never baked and made a mess of the kitchen while loudly singing Disney songs at 10 am again because the ghost of the thoughts was still present and he refused to make any noise before he was certain everybody was awake. Never sat on the couch together to watch crappy horror movies and laughing at how terrible the special effects were because the voice of Patton was scowling at him that these people had put effort into this movie and ‘why would you mock something like this when everything you create is so much crueller?’ Never danced in the living room to Panic! at the disco, with energy so high it could match Patton’s when he had too much sugar because his mind told him that acting like that was foolish and a waste of his brothers time.

He didn’t speak his mind like he had done before. Only said what was necessary. No vulgar or odd thoughts. No weird or exciting ideas. Nothing because he had been convinced that it was wrong. That he, his whole nature, his whole being, was wrong.

Remus understood then that Patton didn’t fuse with him because he liked it or wanted to help him. Morality wanted nothing more than to break him.

But life went on and healing was a slow and painful process.

When, after nearly a year of silence, Remus spoke his first words, his boyfriends and his brother had hugged him close while crying happy tears.

And when, after nearly a year, his brother invited him for movie night again he had agreed.

And when, after nearly two years, he didn’t flinch anymore when somebody made a sudden gesture towards him nobody said anything but he knew they noticed.

And when, after nearly two years, the voice in his head that wasn’t his and the thoughts that weren’t his own began to quiet down, he didn’t say anything. Though his boyfriends noticed that he slept better. And his brother noticed that he spoke his mind from time to time.

And when, after nearly two years, he was dancing to Panic! at the disco in the living room with energy so high it could match Logan’s when talking about the stars, he felt that, though nothing would be the same again, though nothing would ever be quite whole again, he might be able to be okay again.

So Uhm… Here ya go? This was extremely heavy even for me so I’m sorry I guess? A very quick thing for all the Patton stans that are gonna come for my chins after this: I love him a lot. I love all of them a lot. I just, at the moment, think unsympathetic Patton is interesting to write.

Anyways. Hope this is kinda what you imagined Lance? Yeh. Okay. Bye.

Idk if I should put my taglist (I’m gonna but I hope y’all are mindful of the warnings and tell me if you wanna be excluded from heavier stuff/ removed.)

Taglist: @purp-man @crazycookie13o @deceitifullies101 @sapphire-knight @ragingdumpsterfiremess @chronophobica @lance-alt

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 4 years

Text

Ruin

Summary: An attempt to get Roman and Remus to get along fails and leaves Remus reeling. Indulging in a bad habit to try and keep the thoughts away from Thomas leads to Logan finding out, though instead of the ridicule he's expecting, he receives kindness instead.

Warnings: self harm, slight unsympathetic Roman, slight disassociation, hurt with happy ending

Please do not read with the intention if triggering yourself. If you are triggered by self harm I and other authors have others stories for you to read. Stay safe.

Ships: platonic intrulogical, Logan x Remus

WC: 2, 140

"You're just useless! Nothing you do has any purpose other than to torment and I'm so sick of it!"

Remus recoiled from his brothers harsh words, cookies spilled on the floor from where he had swept them away. He had been rather pleased with how vague the penis shape actually was, chocolate chips painstakedly placed so you'd only notice if you looked closely. Roman had looked closely.

Sometimes Remus genuinely couldn't help doing things impulsively; the idea had come to his mind and he had done it without a thought to any possible repercussions and now Roman was mad and it had actually been going well for once but now he had ruined it just like he always did and what if he just stabbed him to get rid of the problem?

The thought came abruptly and without prompt, making him blink back to reality as Roman continued to rant before noticing he hadn't been paying attention.

"But of course you don't care. You aren't even paying attention to a word I'm saying. You ruin everything and I don't understand why I even try!" Ever the dramatic, Roman sunk out with a final huff and throw of his arms, leaving Remus stuck standing trembling in the middle of a mess. No one else was around, leaving the twins alone for "bonding time". Wasn't that a laugh and a half.

'I wonder if the cookies could act like marbles in those old cartoons and I'd slip and fall and crack my head open and-' Drawing a shaky breath his busied himself with cleaning to try and dispell the unwanted thoughts. It was in his nature to be impulsive, brash. He was loud and insistant, truly the living embodiment of Intrusive Thoughts that plagued Thomas' mind when it got to be too much to hold in.

'What if you smashed your hand in the oven?' He turned the oven off and went to grab a broom. 'How hard would you have to fall for a broom to stab through your intestines? How fast would you have to run to stab someone else's?'

Kitchen relatively clean he spun around once more to make sure. 'Just grab a knife. You don't have to use it, just feel it.'

If he sunk out while holding the fridge could he smash Roman with it?

Roman's dark blood staining the carpet an even deeper red.

Remus standing by as the other screamed.

How easy would those screams be to shut up.

How easily would he be to shut up.

Could fascets die? Was it worth trying to find out?

Subconsciously he realized he was walking down the hall to his room, eyed glazed over as the thoughts continued making him feel spacey and fake. He shut the door behind him and stood for what felt like hours, head going everywhere and no where at once until one thought forced him to snap out of it slightly.

'You're going to hurt Thomas. You're going to make him want to hurt others.'

He embodied intrusive thoughts and bad creativity but most of the time those thoughts were just remembering unpleasant sensations or thinking of a crude or out of context joke that would be inappropriate to say out loud. It was random, harmless thought spirals that most of the time you could shake your way out of and Remus simply did whatever random thing there was to do around the mind scape to get rid of excess energy. When he was upset however, the thought spirals grew darker, more suggestive, supplying ghastly images that he wouldn't mind seeing if it was sat in front of a horror movie but as it was...

Persistent thoughts continued to pound through his head, flicking between hurt to angry to apathetic and back before he could breathe. He wanted to hurt something, someone, and he could practically feel the toxic mindset leaching into Thomas' thought process even as he struggled to contain it. He ripped through his desk drawers desperately, everything neat despite his chaotic nature though the desperation rose as hiding spot after hiding spot came up empty. Chewed nails scraped at the underside of the bed frame then groped in the darkest corners of his room. His eyes landed on a small picture frame, a drawing he had done that Janus had framed long ago before any of this had been a problem and quickly went to rip it off the wall.

Taped to the back a small blade glinted passively in the dull light, making his breath hitch in relief as he grabbed it out of its confines. His sleeve went up without a thought until he forced all of concentration on the task at hand.

The first few, well several, cuts were nothing. His skin tingled numbly as straight lines were drawn across it, taking a second or two to well up with blood but by then he had already moved on. Just a small patch, right below his elbow on his outer arm. Thicker skin made for more lines. It wasn't until they began to overlap that he truly felt it, minutes later, stinging and angry and flowing and...

Quiet.

His mind was silent for once. Blissful peace after the turmoil of not ten minutes before hand. The razor fell to the floor as he bit his lip tiredly and stared at the slow growing puddle on the floor. The blood flow slowed, just barely pulsing out with his heartbeat. Looking around reality set itself in place and the slight whooshing in his ears abated just enough for him to hear persistent knocking at the door.

Wait.

Scrambling in a half panic Remus yanked his sleeve back down, letting out a hiss before shoving a blanket to the floor and stumbling over to the door, nearly getting a fist to his face when he got it open.

Logan's startled face quickly knitted into concern as he glanced Remus over, pursing his lips in thought.

"What is it Nerdy Wolverine." His tone was flat but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"I overheard your argument, I thought it would be alright to assume you may need some level of...comfort."

Remus laughed tiredly. "Did Ro not open his door?"

Logan had the decency to look confused. "I don't know, I didn't check."

"You didn't....check on Roman? You came for me first?" It had to be a trick, some idiotic set up Patton had created. Check on the evil twin first to make sure he isnt wrecking havoc then check the better one to be sure he's okay. "Get out."

He slammed the door unceremoniously in the logical sides face, leaning against it heavily.

"Remus." His voice came through muffled. "I assure you I mean well. Roman can be...a lot. I simply wish to make sure everything is alright."

Remus didn't answer.

"Remus I will be frank," and Remus could barely make out the added 'though my name is Logan' mumbled as an afterthought. "I smelled the blood. Either you tell me why or I will come in and figure it out myself."

Swallowing Remus called out weakly. "It was an experiment Google Dex, it's fine."

"The fact that there was not one disturbing punchline in that sentence says otherwise."

"You can't come in."

"I could."

"I might hurt you."

"You won't."

"I'm dangerous."

"You're not."

"You don't know that."

"I do."

"I ruin everything."

"You aren't ruining anything."

"You've said that before. To Virgil"

"Yes. But saying it before to a different person doesn't make the statement any less true."

Remus gripped at his still bleeding arm, knocking his head against the door softly before rocking himself to his feet and stepping back. "Fine."

The door opened and Logan immediately swept the room before settling on first the tipped drawers, then the blanket still heaped on the floor and finally settling on Remus himself. He zeroed in on the arm he was still holding, prompting the darker side to drop it immediately even though it was too late. Silently Logan held out his hand and looked imploringly at Remus, starting him to comply.

"I know. And it's alright Remus it truly is. I just want to help."

Confused but intrigued Rrmus let his hands be taken and tugged to the bed, giving a half hearted eye brow wiggled that earned a small smirk from Logan before he snapped up a first aid kit. He carefully rolled up the sleeve, not even flinching as the mess was revealed to him. Five babywipes and a roll of gauze later his arm was bandaged neatly, causing him to look questioningly at the other.

"How are you so calm about this? You don't"

"No. But I know basic first aid." Logan sat back and looked up at him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Remus looked up and away, tugging his sleeve back down and wincing at the dull ache the action caused. "I made Roman mad because I was being stupid-"

"Falsehood. Try again."

Snapping his head back he opened and shut his mouth before blurting out another excuse. "Roman yelled because I was being impulsive-"

"Nope. Again."

"I was-"

"Remus." Logans tone effectively shutting him up he couldn't help but squirm in confusion. "You didn't do anything. Maybe you could have discussed the....creative take you were going with with your design, but you had split the batch had you not? Roman should have stayed out of what you were doing with yours."

"You were watching?"

"I wanted to make sure no one got hurt. You two tend to become physical and I was there to expel any conflict should it turn violent. I was not however, prepared for a one sided screaming match. Roman has been stressed and while that isn't an excuse it isn't a new occurrence. Why was this-" Logan gestured to his arm. "Done as a stress response? You've argued before haven't you?"

Remus twisted his fingers together. "My head gets loud. And bad. Sometimes I'm afraid I'll make Thomas hurt something, so I hurt instead to calm it for a while."

Logan nodded. "That's perfectly understandable."

"It is?"

"Unhealthy. But yes, understandable. I will ask that you try finding a less destructive way to calm these thoughts. You may think this is helping Thomas but I assure you he'd much rather work with you in a healthy way than you destroying yourself in the background."

Slowly, Remus blinked down at him. "What?"

"I said-"

"I know what you said I just...why do you care?"

Logan stood. "Why wouldn't I? You are an integral part of who we are and as unconventional as you may be at times, you are still apart of the family. I care a great deal."

He said this flippantly, as if it was obvious, completely oblivious to the way it took Remus' breath and heart and soul and made him want to projectile vomit it onto the floor in front of the other man's feet.

"You really care?" Remus blurts out quietly.

"Of course." Logams reply is simple, logical. Clipped but with an undertone that was unmistakably kind even with the impassivity he was attempting to pull off. He sucked in a breath as a hand was extended to him, looking up with a raised eyebrow.

"I thought you might like company, and it might be a good idea to not be in this room right now. Staying in a place of hurt often makes you want to continue the hurt and I'd rather it cease for today."

Hesitantly Remus took the offered hand and followed Logan out the door and into another room lined with books and posters and odd sciencey bits and baubles. He immediately gravitated towards the bookshelf after getting a nod of consent from the owner, plopping down and curling to the side to read the spines. Feeling a nudge he turned and was met with a plate with a few of his cookie creations placed neatly on it.

"Some weren't knocked down and were salvageable. The chip placement makes for a very symmetrical taste experience that I quite enjoy." Remus looked on in amazement as Logan prattled on, taking a cookie for himself and watching Logan take two before sitting down at his desk to eat and work. Grinning to himself he stuffed the rest of the treats in his mouth and bent at a different angle to read book titles again, sharing the silence with the other side contentedly.

He still felt bad and useless and a million other things at once that crawled beneath his skin and raged against his nerves. He looked over at Logan happily munching away at the crude cookie making him smile wider.

He still felt shitty but maybe there were things he didnt ruin after all.

This work and others is available on AO3!

Please do not tag duke don't look.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #self harm #tw self harm #tw dissociation #unsympathetic roman #logan sanders #remus sanders #ts intrusive thoughts

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chezforshire · 4 years

Text

AU where marceline is the school's local harana for hire she writes quick songs for anyone who wants to have a song sung for anyone for whatever reason they want

It's usually a lot of love songs (she's gotten tired of this really fast) but sometimes she gets requests for songs for friends

Anyway, Lady and Jake help her out with this business by making bouquets and playing along with her respectively. And Bon is usually just someone she bounces ideas with cause Marce may know so many people, but there's still a number of rich prissy losers that Bon knows and that's usually her clients. Also, Bon loves getting to stretch her writing skills.

(Though she's also pretty tired of love songs)

Marce gets a commission one day to make a song for Bon and she just kinda. Stares at it. Her clients aren't anonymous. Well, not usually. A lot of her songs are made from shared memories and the small percent made from flowery words are usually douchelords who are too confident about their place to think they'd need anonymity in case of rejection.

So when she sees that this one didn't have a name she was a little... confused. There was also the fact that Bon is notorious for saying no to everyone who tries to ask her out. And not in a way where friends tell friends this, but more of she said no to a guy who payed the whole school to get in on his grand plan to ask her out

(Even Marce tho it wasn't for a song. It was more of he asked her to drive Bon to school at a specific time. She obviously told Bon this but they didn't have a lot of time to talk about it bc the guy texted everyone their roles literally on midnight and wired the cash after sending the message.

A little worrying how he not only got everyone's number but also everyone's bank account. She and most of her friends changed phones then bc that was creepy as all hell)

She doesn't tell Bon. Not because of some customer confidentiality or whatever but because... Well she doesn't really know. It just made her irrationally irritated and sad. Odd.

She takes far longer than usual to reply to this. She doesn't understand the hesitation. Or maybe she does? Bon has called her a bleeding heart a million times and she guesses thats the reason. She feels bad for them and doesn't want to watch another person who put in effort be rejected. Yeah that's it. She should tell him that. Maybe they were new or something. It'll be fine, plus they didn't want a full song so they werent paying much. Yeah, that sounds like a game plan.

The next day she says yes and wonders all day why she did that

For about a month she keeps this commission to herself. She spaces out more than usual during this time. Not quite disassociating, just staring into space and thinking.

Bon isn't worried bc this is usually how she gets when she's got a song in the works. She needles her about what it is and who it's for, but she generally deflects and at some point just straight up lies and says some random names.

She also learns more about her client. They're not new, they've actually known Bon for about 3 to 5 years. They're pretty close apparently and actually knows Marce personally. Theyve talked several times and have hung out here and there too. (That sure didn't make her anxiety and paranoia skyrocket)

She feels a lot of anxiety and worry and trepidation and god other irrational shit about this commission. She doesn't really tell anyone (something her therapist, or Bon more importanly Bon, would frown at) so she's just left to wallow about it on her own. She tries working on it as much as she can but it just feels... wrong somehow. She doesn't really get it but she feels like she'll lose something because of this. She doesn't get it. She knows they'll be rejected and they'll all laugh at it in the end and just.

What is it. What's wrong.

She feels a tap on her shoulder and she almost falls off her bed. Jake's apparently been trying to talk to her for a solid minute and oh jeez now he's got that Worried Big Brother look.

He peers at her and asks what's wrong and not-so-subtly threatens that he'll stay and use his Big Brother mode on her if she tries to lie to him

She just sighs heavily and curls up

"Someone commissioned a suicide mission"

Jake makes an 'o' with his mouth. Theyve always called anyone who tried to flirt with Bon a suicide mission and laughed pretty hard at it. Even Bon calls the poors souls who try suicide missions.

She uncurls a bit and faces Jake with a small smile, ready to laugh with him about it as she should. But for some reason Jake just... Looks at her with this worried look. Not his patented Im-Worried-For-You-Little-Sibling but more of one would give to a friend when they know something they don't.

Marce laughs, shakey and unsure. "What? S'not like this doesn't happen. It's Bon, ya know? The sweatheart of the school." With a mean streak that rivals the devil, she adds quietly- fondly- in her head.

Jake just nods slowly. He drags his eyes away from her and stares at her wall, eyes unfocused.

Marce starts having a bit of a panic because what is that face, why is Jake acting like this, is there somethin on her wall, wait does he know the client, is he friends with the client, is he the client, w-

Jake flops his short, chunky body on her bed and pulls her to lay down too. Roughly, might she add. And not to mention absolutely unexpected.

He's smiling again, big and all teeth. It twitches for a second when he makes eye contact but bounces back so quick she thinks she might have imagined it.

"Ha! You're gonna write for a suicide mission this is hilarious!" He makes a move to ruffle her hair and she just starts flailing to avoid this. "Man! I haven't seen one in a while so this'll be fun at least. Something else to keep us busy other than those stupid douchefucks who thinks a song is a sure fire way to get laid."

Marce is confused but doesn't question this sudden change. Plus it actually helps? She snickers -because no, she doesnt giggle she is cooler than that- at the thought of watching the client be rejected before Marce can even pull out her guitar.

"Yeah, threw me off like hell cause Bon is practically legendary but hey apparently there are still some brave souls out there."

"Oh dude, I've got a great ass idea," Jake sits up and leans on his elbows, "Let's keep this a secret from princess. Oh and Lady cause you know she cant keep anything from her."

Marce kinda laughs at this in confusion. "Uh what? Why? If you haven't noticed my services include a bouquet and unless you've learned flower language I dont think we can take Lady outta the equation."

He snorts "I may not know flowers, but I know my girlfriend. I can just be vague and she'll take it as a challenge and try to make the perfect bouquet. S'no problem on that front.

"I figured we could keep it a secret so we can see Bon's pure and raw reaction. Like I said, there hasn't been a suicide mission in a looooong while so she probably doesn't expect this. And it'll be way more funny cause someone commissioned you for it. Where it is no secret that a) you do this and b) you get help from the three of us."

"You got a point there detective. Bur fair warning, Bon will be giving us the stink eye for days if we do this. Especially me because she's my thesaurus and metaphor maker. You know how she loves taking credit for making them sound like a stupid romance novel."

"Psh, she loves you to hell and back. She'll just pout at you for a while and when you buy her her favourite candy it'll be right as rain."

Okay, that sounded valid but at the same time Marceline kind of shut down after Jake said Bon loves her so uh she guesses she'll just trust that it'll be fine?

" 'nother idea," Jake says softly. He's looking at he- actually. No he's not looking at her, hes just looking her way but his eyes are just. Not there.

"Uh, shoot"

"Make this song the best you've ever made."

Marceline laughs for a second before she realizes okay wait Jake is serious about that. What. Why the fuck would she do that.

He shrugs and smiles again. Soft and pitying -what why why is Jake acting like this what the fuck- and he gestures around a bit before speaking.

"Well, first off it'll be good practice for you. You've been workin with Bon for about as log as you've been doing this so think of this as a test to see how you are now on your own.

"Second, well ya gotta admit if you pull out a banger and Bon actually likes it it'll be way funnier cause you can sing it and she'll look all annoyed but you can see that her tapping her foot and bobbing her head. It'll be funny for everyone involved.

"And lastly," Jake takes a deep breath before speaking, as if this is one of the toughest things he's done in a while. "Call it a father's intuition."

She stares at him. She- she doesn't know hwo to react to that.

After a second, Jake cracks a soft smile and "Did you get Lady pregnant, you fucking askal" just slips out of her mouth.

Jake laughs loud and boisterous at this and Marce just follows.

Yeah, she might as well make this the best one she's ever made. The client won't get the girl, but at least she can make her like it

#chersonal #adventure time #at hc #bubbline #okay this got longer than i expected #i just spout this shit before i go to sleep so i dont usually know what the fuck im saying #yellow yelling

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zankivich · 5 years

Text

The Arrangement: CEO’s Son/Dom!Shawn x Black Sub Reader Chapter 7

a/n: this is like my favorite chapter so far. I feel like I’ve been waiting this whole story to ge tot watch these two interact in this way. I hope it comes across as authentic. I worked really hard on the pacing for this story. You all have been incredibly kind to me lately with feedback for this story and I sincerely hope you keep it coming. It is without a doubt the brightest part of my days recently. Thank you so much for that. K bye.

WARNINGS: sex without a condom (gotta wrap it before you tap it). mentioned of white supremacy, racism, and micro-aggressions.

*Shawn’s point of view*

Nothing ever simultaneously works out. It never all gets to be perfect. His life had been a memoir with that exact theme and yet somehow he always let himself forget. Y/n leaves and he somehow has a date with her. A date. Not a hookup. Not some elaborate set up to make her cum. A date. With like conversation and personality. He hadn’t been on a date in years. And sure he knew he was really good at sex, but that didn’t mean shit about being able to actually hold a conversation. She was lightyears above him mentally, and he had no idea how he was going to manage to not fuck it up. But he had a date. She said yes. And that within itself was a win. So of course something in his life was going to have to go to shit. Hold that thought.

Brian makes it back sometime between his gym run and a shower. By the time he gets out, the asshole is sitting on his couch fucking up his kill rate on COD.

“Move over, jerkoff! And switch to two player.” He grunted plopping down on the couch beside him.

“Jeez, bro take it down a couple notches. I am nursing a hangover from the depths of hell over here.”

“Not my fault you can’t ever handle your liquor.”

“Well Melanie seemed to think I handled it just fine.”

“Melanie sounds like she’s still never had an orgasm before.”

Brian punched him in the bicep which only resulted in him returning the favor. Idiot.

“Not all of us sneak our hookups in in the middle of the night.”

He rolled his eyes fingers smashing on the controller.

“I didn’t sneak anyone. It’s my fucking apartment you idiot.”

“Yea, sure, whatever. Did you at least hook up with someone new?”

His fingers stumbled on the joystick, sending his player headfirst into a grenade. Lovely.

“No. No I didn’t.”

Brian looked over at him. “You fucked the same girl again?”

“I don’t think we should be equating Melanie and y/n here. y/n is a woman. A grown ass woman. Trust me, she never lets me forget.” He snorted.

“What is up with you and this chick? You never fuck the same person twice.”

He supposed now was as good a time as any. He actually was going to need shit for brains’ advice.

“I like her okay! I like her. And we hooked up last night but it was...it was different. I didn’t tell her what to do. I didn’t pull out any bells or whistles. I just...We just had sex. And she kissed me like she liked me too. So I asked her on a date.”

“A DATE?! I haven’t seen you go on a date since you were like a child!!”

“No shit, jackass. I’m going to need every fucking ounce of help I can get. And that includes your ass, unfortunately.”

“Stop pretending you don’t love me bitch. Now tell me how you plan to get a thirty year old woman who isn’t on drugs to actually enjoy spending time with your sorry ass.”

What are best friends for?

***

*y/n’s point of view*

y/n: I HAVE A DATE.

y/n: I NEED YOU HERE ASAP

Tiana: Oh shit. K. omw.

The last time you went on a date was in 2016, what some might call the beginning of Armageddon. After a slew of horrid dates, you had been completely and totally ready to throw in the towel. But then this cute guy came out of nowhere. He was nice, sweet, not very funny but in a way that made you laugh. He was also persistent enough to not take no for an answer, without it making you uncomfortable. No immediate red flags. So you went on the damn date. And all was well. It wasn’t an earth shattering date, but you weren’t not enjoying his company. And then it happened.

I just really think Trump will genuinely make America great again ya know?

You nearly choked on a piece of lettuce.

“Really bruh? In front of my salad?”

“No just hear me out though. Is he unorthodox, sure. But Hillary? Hillary and those emails. It just wouldn’t have worked.”

“I absolutely understand what you mean.”

“You do?” He smiled.

“Yep. CHECK PLEASE!”

“Bitch we do not have time for you to disassociate I am trying to make a wing here!” Tiana huffed.

You rolled your eyes and reached for your phone working to still your features so that Tianna could continue with your makeup.

y/n: Are you a republican?

Shawn: Well thank you for asking, I’ve had a lovely day. How was yours?

y/n: I’m serious.

Shawn: I’m Canadian.

“Shit. I’m so stupid.” You whined.

Tiana tugged at your chin. “Not stupid. But NOT still.”

“Sorry, ti.”

y/n: Would you have voted for Trump if you could have?

Shawn: No. No I wouldn’t have. What kind of a person do you think I am?

y/n: Idk. idk. I just needed to be sure. It never came up when you were tying my arms behind my back.

Shawn: You didn’t mention political discourse as one of your kinks. Is there something I should know before tonight?

y/n: No. It’s fine. I swear. Just haven’t been on a date in a really long time. And my last one didn’t go so well.

Shawn: It’s been a long time for me too. But I’d really like to have a go at it, if that’s okay with you?

y/n: yea, I’d like that. Should I meet you at your place still?

Shawn: Actually I’m gonna pick you up. I’ll be at your place at 7?

y/n: Oh. Okay.

“Hmmm.”

“Hmmm what? What’d he say?” Tiana asked.

“I’m not meeting at his place anymore. He’s picking me up.”

“Well where is he taking you?”

“If I knew that, Ti would I be sitting here in a ball of anxiety?!”

Tianna dropped her eyeliner brush and reach instead for the body lava. All hail Rihana.

“I sure hope he dicks you unconscious for a few hours. You have got to relax, sis.” She giggled. “It’s going to be alright, okay? He likes you. You like him. Let that be enough for right now.”

“Okay. Okay. Just...make my titties sparkle? Please?”

“Lord, chile. You don’t pay me enough.” She snorted.

Friendship!

***

Shawn: I’m here. Do you want me to come up?

y/n: No need! Here I come.

Outside your apartment building is one of those SUV hummer situations that you only ever rode in when you were visiting one of your artists on tour. Shawn is standing outside the door of the vehicle, and you can’t help but pause right there in the middle of the sidewalk. He traded the black jeans for a black slack that hones in on the fact that he’s most definitely not wearing a chelsea boot for the first time ever. They’re dress shoes. Like proper, wing tips. And he’s wearing a short sleeve button up with yellow, black, and white stripes. There are enough buttons undone to see the way that his rosary necklace melted into the firmness of his chest nestled amongst the most sinful amount of chest hair. God, where the hell had they made this one at? And how the hell did he wind up at my front door?

“Hi.” He smiled, legs crossed and chest broad. “You look really beautiful.”

You peered down at the jumpsuit you’d picked out with Tiana’s help. It was a really pretty shimmery gold color and the entire back was cut out too. In hindsight, it didn’t seem nearly as impressive as to what he was wearing now.

“Thank you. You look pretty beautiful yourself. Really showed me up tonight.”

He laughed. “Yea, sure. Come on, it’s cold out. Let’s get going.”

In the car, there’s a bottle of champagne and one of the playlists that you recognized from Shawn’s apartment is playing softly in the background. He pours each of you a glass, your legs somehow knotting simply together on the floor of the car. It’s weird in that it’s not like a first date in the traditional sense. You put his balls in your mouth for one. He licked orgasms out of you like ice cream. But the nerves are still there. You find that you care about what he thinks of you, of how he feels about you. That’s new. And scary.

“So uh...where are we going?” You asked between sips of champagne.

He bites his lip and looks nervously over at you. It’s a new look for him. But one that you find solace in.

“Would you be angry at me if I said it was a surprise?”

You raised an eyebrow. “No. But I would be curious as to what that surprise is.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll know soon enough.”

“I think I heard that line one time. I think Hannibal Lector said it.”

He rolled his eyes and threw his head back and you wished it didn’t make you giggle, but it does.

“Funny.” He smirked hiding behind his glass. “I just wanna impress you a little bit. Is that okay?”

“You wanna impress lil ole me huh?” You smiled. “That’s sweet.”

“Just a little.”

He licked his bottom lip and his hand inched its way up your knee. He was warm. Way too warm to not have your body react a little. Rude.

“Whatever happened to your friend from the other morning? Am I taking you away from him?”

“Oh Brian?” He snickered. “He’s just happy he’s got my place to himself. He couldn’t believe I was going on a date at all.”

“Tiana either.” You snorted.

“Yea? She try and convince you not to go out with me?”

“She is...surprisingly Pro-you for some reason. Must have something to do with me not having enough time to be a bitch as work with our arrangement and everything.”

“Hmmm. Well it’s nice to know I’ve got one person on my team. Maybe by the end of the night I can win you over too.”

“Maybe.” You smiled.

The car eventually rolls to a stop, and you’re not even aware of how long you’ve been talking. All the nerves that you couldn’t actually be together without the sex part sort of faded away. He could make you laugh. He could hold your attention. And you could offer him the same. Just when you were starting to think that it was all going to be fine? Shawn came to open your door.

Your heels touched gently to the ground and you let him pull you from the car. Behind him was not a restaurant. Not a bar. Not even a fucking hotel. Nope. Instead you were stood right in front of Mendes Industries’ private jet and a fucking flight attendant with a bag in her hands that looks surprisngly like your Louis Vitton. Fucking Tiana.

“What the hell. Shawn, what the hell?!” You gasped. “What is this?”

“You were concerned about people seeing us right? Well no one’s gonna see us. No one but the locals.”

“The locals?! I can’t--I can’t just fly away with you Shawn. I have responsibilities. I have a--a job.”

He reached for your hands, which tended to do a lot of movement when you were flustered, and stilled them by placing them on his shoulders.

“Listen to me,” He murmured silencing you. “It’s already set. Tiana canceled all of your meetings for three days. It’s just three days. Look I...I really like you, okay? More so than I know what to do with right now. And I think that you like me too. Do you like me?”

“Y--Yea! Yea, of course I do. That’s not really the point is it?”

“It is. Just get on the plane. Please? I just wanna take you out. Let me take you out.”

You peered up at him, all soft brown eyes and chiseled everything else. He had really come along out of nowhere. It was incredibly disorientating, and intoxicating. You lived your life by a planner, a set time for every hour by the hour. And here he was asking you to throw that all away, to let yourself be something else for a chance. And it wasn’t all that different from what he asked of you in the bedroom. Just let go. Release.

You sighed. “You know when most guys ask to take a girl out? They don’t mean out of the state.”

“I’m not like other guys.” He shrugged.

“No shit. Where are you taking me, white boy?” You groaned letting him steer you towards the plane.

“Try to contain your excitement.” He snorted. “Remember that time we had sex in the back of a storage room during Khalid’s video shoot?”

You smiled awkwardly at the flight attendant and knocked your arm into his shoulder.

“Oh please. We’ve had this jet since I was fifteen. I’m almost positive my dad has done some incredibly sketchy shit on here. Martha knows all. Thank you Martha!”

He leads you to a seat. There’s more champagne. You don’t know how you got here. This man was wild.

“Get to the point, maybe?”

“Right. We hooked up in the storage closet, and you told me that story about how you missed your high school trip to Rome because your mom was having heart problems and couldn’t afford it with the medical bills? You had a Lizzie Mcguire fantasy and everything.”

“I was drunk that night. Khalid had just gotten his first number one.”

“So you don’t want me to take you to Rome?” He asked.

“ROME?!”

“Rome.”

“....Who are you?!”

He chuckled. “I’m just a guy standing here asking a girl to let me take her on a little trip.”

“Oh my god. He quotes romcoms. This is too much.”

“Just relax sweetheart. We’re about to do liftoff.”

Jesus Christ.

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

He’s a little worried that he may have broken her. Maybe it was too much too fast. He should’ve just taken her to fucking dinner like a normal person. The problem was he wasn’t normal. And she sure as hell wasn’t normal either. She was so different from anyone he’d ever been with before. He wanted to spend time with her. And the last thing in the world he wanted was her to think about his dad while she was with him. He could tell that it bothered her more than she was willing to admit, and he just needed them to be on equal footing. What said equal footing like going to a country where neither of them spoke the language. Tiana had given him the green light when she agreed to change y/n’s schedule around and even pack her a bag. It seemed like maybe it might go well.

She calms down after her first glass of champagne, and sits more comfortably into the seat next to him, her legs folded so that her knees poked gently at his thigh. She was closer, close enough for him to smell her perfume and he kind of loved it.

“So are first dates the one’s where we spill all of our dirty laundry, or is that the second one?” She asked.

He chuckled and laid his hand on her thigh. She smiles at him, so he doesn’t pull away.

“Your guess is as good as mine. Do your worst, woman.”

She situates herself a little more gently into the chair, chin propped up on her palm. He gets lost in the glitter on her collarbones and neck.

“Why haven’t you been on a date in a long time?” She asked.

Heavy first question. But he told her to do her worst.

“Well I uh...the last date I went on was with my girlfriend of about two years. And on said date she told me that she had been sleeping with a producer at Atlantic records for six months, and that he was going to share her demo. So, she didn’t need me anymore.” He shrugged around a sip of champagne.

“Two years? Two fucking years before she pulled that shit? That’s fucked.” She said. “I’m sorry.”

“Yea. It was really heavy at the time. Blamed my dad for a lot of it, even if it probably wasn’t his fault this time. But ever since then I just thought it might be easier to stick to the meaningless sex route.”

She nodded. “I fuck that up for you a little bit?”

“You have no idea.” He grinned rubbing his thumb along her chin. “I should’ve known the second I caught you checking me out at that party.”

“Excuse me? For the last time I was not ‘checking you out’. I was simply observing that snooze fest your father put on.”

“I was checking you out.” He admitted honestly. “I asked my dad to introduce us. I just knew I had to have you. And then I spoke to you and I found out you were trouble, and you weren’t going to take any of my shit. I should’ve known then.”

It’s a lot softer than anything he’s ever admitted before, and every time that he remembers that this is more, that they’re trying to become more, it makes his heart stutter in his chest. But she leans her head against his seat and she smiles at him like it means something to her to be open, to be vulnerable. And that alone is enough to get him to lean in.

“So maybe....maybe I was looking in your direction.” She says softly. “I’d heard of you. I’d just never actually seen you in person before. And maybe I was curious.”

“Curious?!” He laughed. “Okay. Curious. We can call it that; I’ll take it. Your turn. Worst date. Spill.”

She groaned softly and slid a little deeper into her seat, head fitting perfectly against his shoulder.

“I accidentally went to dinner with a Trump supporter.”

“Accidently?” He snorted.

“Don’t laugh asshole! It was thoroughly traumatic for me. I just thought that logically a white supremacist would not be interested in asking me, a black woman, on a date. I forgot that logic is not in their wheelhouse. It was awful.”

“Now your texts make a lot more sense.” He chuckled reaching his arm to pat her cheek. “That enough to take you out the game, aye?”

“I don’t know man...the world is fucking scary right now.” She sighed. “Sometimes it feels like there’s no one we can trust, like there’s no one who doesn’t have it out for us. It’s not just political agendas. It’s my safety. It really is that deep. It has to be.”

It’s this moment where she’s offering more of herself than she had in the entire time that he’d known her. Y/n was beautiful and sexy and intelligent, but there was also always this aura of mystery around her. Like she wasn’t quite ready to share herself, didn’t know if she could. And he wanted to find his way on the other side of that. He wanted to know her better than she knew herself. And he wants to cherish any moment where she’s willing to let him try that.

“I understand.” He paused and closed his eyes feeling maybe a little flustered and out of his element. “I mean I don’t. I know that I don’t, that I couldn’t but..I hear what you’re saying. And I believe you. I would like to know more at some point. If you’re willing to share it with me.”

Her eyes flicker over to his and they’re wide and brilliant and he wants to kiss her so bad.

“You do?” She checked.

He nodded and chanced reaching to pull her face a little closer, palm resting against her cheek.

“I do.”

She kisses him and it feels like the sun. It feels like everything.

***

*y/n’s point of view*

Rome is kind of perfect. It’s not so hot that you’ve got to cover yourself in deodorant, but the sun is still pretty and bold in the sky. The hotel he takes you to has an entire terrace open for your access with those flowy ass curtains you only saw in cheesy 80’s pop music videos. There are couches that might as well be beds there so soft and plush. You touch down in the middle of the night and there’s not much to do but keep talking to each other, keep touching each other. You take your shoes off and sit out on the couches wrapped in blankets with another bottle of champagne. If the redness in his cheeks is anything to go off of, he’s just as tipsy as you, and it means that it’s not weird when you lean into him. No one’s gonna say anything for letting him hold you.

“It’s four am right now.” You giggled hiding your face in his neck. “It’s so beautiful here.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yea. I really do. I always wanted to come here. I can’t believe this is our first date.”

“I wanted it to be special for you. You deserve that.”

“Since when?” You asked so thoroughly confused by everything that he was. “I mean, yes. I definitely deserve this but...when you did you realize that you want it to be more than what we were? I thought you just wanted to fool around?”

“I did.” He whined stubbornly tracing your nose with his thumb. “I really did. But...you are very good at sex.” You laughed and he smiled. “I’m serious! One of the best partners I’ve ever had. And sometimes when our bodies were moving I just got lost in you. Like you were a fucking beautiful ass star capturing me with your light. And then you stopped arguing with me so much and just letting me be like...a friend to you? And then Miami happened and I just--I wanted to be with you. And I realized that I wanted to be with you as a person, even when we weren’t having sex. I was scared. Until I realized that you liked me too. Then I got my confidence back.”

“Oh lord not your confidence.” You rolled your eyes.

“You have got to stop acting like you are not all up on this okay? I see the way you stare at me, honey. It’s okay. Let yourself give in to Mendes Magic!”

“I am officially not attracted to you anymore.” You snorted going to pull away.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and tackled you down to the couch. Your laughter poured out into the night as his fingers dug into your belly. You laugh until your stomach aches. Until there’s tears in your eyes. Until he kisses you and you feel it in your toes. Until the only thing you can think about, feel, smell, is him. And you melt like that against the couch.

***

Rome is beautiful. It’s the most beautiful place you’ve ever been. The sun rises in the sky and you’re up immediately tugging Shawn out of bed. There’s breakfast at this little place near the hotel that looks out over buildings that were unlike anything you’d ever thing. Everything was historic and rustic and so endlessly different from everything you’d seen before. It was really like something straight out of a movie with cobblestone walkways and buildings that were works of art themselves. It’s wild. It would be wild on any day of the week. That was before you looked over your glass of wine to this guy smiling at you like the beauty of the city around him meant nothing in comparison to looking at you.

You liked him. Shit you liked him a lot. And every time he looked you in the eye and hung on every word you said? It just blew you even further away. And you kept trying to remind yourself how unrealistic it all was. You were thirty afterall. The two of you were in different times in your life. He was still holding on to every word his dad said. You had plans for your life, for your career. It was hard to figure out whether or not he could fit into those plans. And maybe that wasn’t first date type of thinking, but hello! He took your ass to Rome. None of it was normal. So you walked a little faster, tried to hold harder to the moments that you had to share. Cause why not?

“Hey can we slow down for a sec?” He asked as you pulled him towards your third museum of the day.

You frowned. “I wanna see the ruins.”

“We can. I promise. Just let’s sit down for a second, yea?”

You��d been walking all morning, stopping at every nook and cranny that you came across. It was a three day trip anyway. You had no idea when you’d ever be back, if you ever would be back. But there’s something special about the company too. You remind yourself that he’s the reason you’re there. The vacation, though amazing, was really just an opportunity to be with him.

“Yea, of course.”

He tugged you to a little corner of these big huge steps that were filled with people just sitting down, chatting, eating their lunches. The second you’re no longer standing on your feet is a little bit like heaven.

“Okay make you were right.” You sighed wiggling your toes. “I’m tired.”

“Well that’s good. I was starting to think you were a robot.” He chuckled. “I’m glad I packed tennis shoes.”

You peered down at his feet and quickly laced your legs with his where the white tennis shoes stuck out in contrast to his black jeans.

“They look so funny on you. I like them. You’re cute.”

He smiled over at you. “I’m cute, aye?”

“You heard me.”

“Yea, well maybe I wanna hear you say it again.” He murmured taking your cheek into his hand.

“You’re cute.” You whispered before pressing your lips together.

You had yet to get over this new style of kissing. The way he rubbed so softly at your cheek you got goosebumps. The way his tongue could make you feel like time was slowing down. Almost like there was nothing left here. Nothing but the two of you and the way you could make each other feel. It was maybe the best feeling in the world.

“You’re beautiful.” He murmured when the kiss had ended, forehead pressed against yours. “I can’t believe you’re here with me right now.”

“I can’t believe you whisked me away to a different country for our first date.” She hummed. “What are you hiding? Do you have a third nipple or something? A serial killer perhaps?”

“Why are you so insistent on me killing people?” He laughed. “And you’ve seen all of my body at this point. If there was a third nipple don’t you think you would’ve seen it?”

“Well you’ve got me there. But statistically speaking at least fifty percent of all murders probably fit your description, honey. I’m just being realistic. I’ve seen what you can do with rope.”

He rolled his eyes and he found that it made you smile. And so he tended to do it more and more often. That’s kinda how you knew you were fucked.

“What do you say we go see these ruins of yours, find some pasta, and fuck until we fall asleep?”

“As long as it’s in that order!” You gasped tugging him back to his feet to continue your wild adventure of the day.

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

He’s got a new kink. And it’s definitely her calling him baby when he’s inside her. It is without a doubt the sexiest thing she could do for him. Which makes so little sense. How fucking soft had she turned him in a few short months? This is where he was now, almost blowing his load because a woman called him baby. It’s not just a woman though. It’s her. Holy fuck it’s her, and the sound of her voice is like directly tied to his dick or something. Shit.

The couches on the terrace are perfect for sex in broad daylight. It’s completely secluded to just them, but anyone at the other hotels around would easily be able to hear them if they opened a window. It’s just another thing that seems to get them both hot and bothered. Her body is a dream. And he doesn’t need to tie her up to get lost in her. (Even if he really, really liked tying her up). All he needs is the feel of her body against his and his hands to direct her where he wants her to go, where he needs her to go for both of them to explode.

“Fuck.Honey you’re dripping. You’re dripping all over my dick.” He groaned tugging her thighs more ruggedly against his own.

“Baby I--I wanna cum.” She gasped, voice breathy and chaotic as her hips bucked like a fucking dream. “I wanna cum on it. Please?”

“It’s yours. Cum on it. Make yourself cum.”

He reached around her waist to grind his fingers deep into her clit. Her ass began to bounce against him, quick and sharp and rugged. He’s barely holding on by a thread. And then she starts to squeeze down on him, her hips working to bring herself to her own climax, and he’s already done for.

“Fuck! I’m cumming.”

His fingers work harder on her clit, dropping down to his knees to drive desperately into her with everything he’s got left inside of him. It thrusts her over the back of the couch and he plasters himself against her back grinding tightly with everything that he’s got.. When she cums it’s just another accomplishment, another moment of making her feel good. It’s all he’s ever really wanted since they met.

“Holy fucking shit.” She gasped collapsing against his chest. “So good.”

“Yea? Still think I can’t dom you and date you at the same time?”

“Shhhh. No one has time for you sir, I can’t feel my legs.”

He nuzzled his way into her neck placing kisses against the skin. His arms were still wrapped around her and her fingers were playing in his hair. It was different than their usual hook ups, for sure. But, he liked it. He liked feeling close to her. He liked touching her and feeling her heart beat beneath his finger tips. Did she know how amazing she was?

“You want me to go get a towel?” He asked softly, pecking at her ear.

She hummed. “Not yet. Don’t leave yet.”

God he was ruined. Just like that.

“Yea okay.”

***

She hops in the shower and he has every intention of following her, of maybe pressing her into the shower door and fucking her until the glass breaks. But then his phone starts ringing and she giggles and runs off leaving his dick to twitch against his thigh. He was stupid on her. Aboslutely idiotic. And whoever was getting in the way of his idiocy was about to get an ear full.

“There better be someone dying!” He huffed eyes still very much on the shower where perhaps the most beautiful woman alive was waiting for him.

“That can be arranged. Can you explain to me why I had to find out from Tiffany that your half whit ass is in Rome right now instead of New York?” His dad roared.

Remember that whole things falling apart narrative? Surprise.

“Shit. Dad look I..I just needed to get away for awhile okay?”

“On the comapny fucking jet nonetheless?!”

“That jet has been open to family members as long as I’ve been alive. Since when is it even a problem?”

“Since you’ve been on that jet more than you’ve been in my office. I am tired of trying to explain this to you Shawn. The rules are very simple. You work for me, you do a good job, you get your inheritance. If you don't, you know what happens Shawn. Is that what you want, to make me have to do that to you?”

“Look Dad I,” He let his voice drop softer, shyer. “It’s not what it looks like. This isn’t just me fucking off okay? I--I like someone. Like really like them. And I just wanted to impress her. She’s different. And I wanted her to like me. This isn’t one of my hookups, I swear.”

He hadn’t liked someone in so long, hadn’t even come close to what he was feeling for y/n. Even though his dad was a dick and they had fought since the time he was eleven, there was still a part of him that yearned for his approval. It was hard not to get caught up in what the world knew his dad to be. It was hard not to feel like if he could just make him proud, just make him happy, then everything would be okay. He hadn’t been that naive in a long time, but it still pulled at him every now and again.

Manny sighed. “Great, son. That doesn’t help the fact that you went behind my back and are continuously neglecting your duties.”

“I--I’m not though. Niall is sitting at sixteen songs as we speak. You only wanted twelve remember? I convinced the producers to look into doing a deluxe edition. That’s gonna make the label happy, Niall happy, and it’s more money for you right? I’m back in LA in a week to work on the roll out for Sarah Leone to the press. I’m kind of working my ass off here. I’m doing everything you wanted.”

“Look whatever just get your ass back to New York, okay?” He muttered.

“I’ll be back in two days.”

“Shawn.”

“Two days. I’ll be back in two days, and I’ll keep living in this hell of a life you’ve set up for me , alright? See you then.”

He tossed his phone back onto the bed in frustration. The noose tightened a little in his absence, sick and tired of always fighting and always losing. It seemed like no matter what happiness he carved out for himself, he was always going to have to return home. Maybe he was kidding himself. Maybe there was no winning in this life.

He stands there for like forty-five seconds feeling sorry for himself, and just fully like a piece of shit. And then he hears her. It’s soft and gentle and sweet. He moves a little closer to the bathroom, the door still open and her naked body visible through the foggy glass door. She’s singing.

“I’m like a bird, I’ll only fly away.” She cooed softly. “I don’t know where my soul is, I don’t know where my home is.”

Her voice was soulful and low, her fingers cupping her breasts and rolling down over her hips as she sang. It really kind of hit him in his heart. He leaned against the edge of the doorway, head lolling back for support at this gorgeous sound coming out of this gorgeous woman. The music lover in him just wanted to sit on the floor and listen to her all day, it was so pretty. Maybe map out some harmonies for the two of them. And the fact that he could see the smile on her lips as she sang only made his heart feel two times too big for his sturnemum. He wasn’t ready for the way that she could make him feel. He thought he’d known that, thought he was preparing himself. Not so much. He wasn’t sure one could prepare themselves for a woman like y/n. Maybe that was his lesson to learn.

She catches sight of him out of the corner of her eye and her lips glue firmly shut. He practically pouts when she stops singing. His arms crossed against his chest tighten in dissatisfaction.

“What are you doing?” She whined leaning her head out of the shower.

He shrugged. “Was just listenin’. You didn’t tell me you sang.”

“You didn’t ask. And I don’t. I was just...humming.”

“Humming?” He laughed softly. “Okay. Well you hum beautifully.”

“Well thank you, I suppose. Was your phone call okay?”

“No. Not quite but, I’m good now. Can I wash your back for you maybe?”

“Yea. Boy, you ain’t gotta ask to wash my back. Come on!”

He steps back into the steam of the shower and it’s like nothing exists but the two of them. And he just really wants to keep it that way for a little while longer. If only for a little while longer.

***

They’re lying on a hotel bed that’s so soft it feels like they’re sinking. After another glorious round of sex he found himself tangled in the sheets beside her. Their heads at the foot of the bed because that’s the position where he’d made her cum last, and their feet intertwined at the headboard. She’s not looking at him, but instead up at the ceiling. This doesn’t seem to stop him from peering over at her. She’s kind of too beautiful to not look at.

“Can I ask you something?” He hedged carefully.

She peered over at him, eyes warm and sated.

“Yes.”

“I don’t...I really don’t know how to ask, or what to ask. And maybe--maybe I’m gonna come across like some dick, but I don’t wanna do that with you. I want to learn ya know? I want to understand.”

“Shawn?” She pressed getting his attention. “Calm down. Just ask.”

He nodded softly and took a deep breath. His fingers twitched anxiously against his stomach.

“That stuff you said earlier on the plane...you know about--about the trump supporter, and how that made you feel? And then sometimes...sometimes it sounds like you don’t really like white people, which like makes sense right? We’re the worst. But I just...I wanna understand more about...about what that means for you? Fuck. I’m sorry. That sounded dumb just saying it.”

He closes his eyes ready for her to slap him and take his jet all the way back to New York. He thinks maybe he’d deserve it. It wasn’t even that he’d never been with a Black woman before. Black Women were beautiful and ethereal and wonderful. But, even his tiny white man brain could understand that the state of the world was simply a little different nowadays. His mediocre understanding of racism and privilege simply wasn’t enough. And he knew that if he wanted to be with this woman, if he wanted to feel like he deserved to be near her and absorb her intellect, than he should probably do his absolute best to understand the world in which she walked. Because it certainly looked different from his own.

He feels her hand on his chest and his eyes flutter open. She curled her fingers around his own and sent him another gentle smile that made his toes curl at the other end of the bed.

“It’s not dumb.” She assured him. “You’re asking. You might not have the language, but you’re asking. And that means a lot to me, okay? A lot.”

He nodded his head dumbly, eagerly hanging on every word that she said. She lied back once again, her head nestling a little closer to his. She doesn’t let go of his fingers.

“So, I do hate white people sometimes.” She mumbled. “Sometimes in the discourse Black folks will often try to explain that it’s not all white people, it’s just some. And most days I can get there. I can recognize that. But like… that’s not really how it works you know? Even white people who wouldn’t lynch my black ass grew up in a culture that would. Even white folks who might not feel the need to say the n-word grow up in a culture that situates their body, their worth, their value over mine. And even if that’s not your fault, and I can recognize that it isn’t you know? That’s how privilege works, it’s subliminal. But even if it’s not your fault, it doesn’t mean that you don’t benefit. And it definitely doesn’t mean that you haven’t absorbed messages about my inferiority.”

He watches her face the entire time, more specifically the emotions that seem to rush through every pore and every muscle. There’s a bit of agony on her features. A bit of frustration. But as she warms up there’s a freedom to it too. He knows that she’s not editing her words. She’s not doing anything for his benefit. He asked and so she would tell him, in whatever way was meaningful for her.

“White people just...sometimes it really seems like y’all don’t give a shit. I’ve had the cops called on me at the very building that I work at. On the top floor, with some of the most powerful people in show bizz twenty-seven times since I started. To the point where Mike in security has to keep an updated description of me every time I change my hair just in case. I have walked onto sets to manage my artists and been told that the back up dancers are in the trailer around back. Every step I take, every goddamn day, there is always at least one white person there to tell me that I don’t deserve it. That I don’t belong. And the intersections of my blackness with my womanhood mean that I am consistently and constantly facing an uphill battle of two indentities that the world just doesn’t give a fuck about.”

He couldn’t look away from her. Never had he ever seen her be so vulnerable for him. Y/n was always just an inch or two behind a wall, always peeking out to give him glimpses but never really showing herself in her entirety. He watched the way that her chest rose and fell more rapidly, watched the way her fingers tightened around his own, and her eyebrows wrinkled on her forehead. It was anxiety. She was anxious and angry and sad. The way that her lips pointed down and her eyes blinked faster than normal told him as such. It kind of broke his heart.

And it’s all so new for him that the only thing he can do is follow his instincts and hope that either he doesn’t fuck it up, or that maybe she’ll forgive him if he does. So, he rested his head firmer against her and held her hands just as tight like maybe it might root her a little better in this room with him, like maybe she might feel safe with him.

“And the people...the people that do these things to you. That do these racist acts all the time they--they look like me don’t they?”

Her eyes that were trained on the ceiling fell down to meet his again. They’re still sad, but a little softer now.

She nodded slowly a bit of a grin forming on her lips.

“I’ma be honest ain’t nobody walking around looking quite like you but...yes they--they kind of look like you.”

He nodded slowly and tilted his head back to peer up at the ceiling now. There’s an anxiety to it for him too. In asking the questions that he didn’t have answers to, to be vulnerable enough in his ignorance. There’s a desire to get it right because she’s important to him, and then a dread when he realizes the time it will take to get there, and the pain that might cause her along the way.

“Shit y/n...why the hell would you even wanna go out with me? Even I hate me right now.” He sighed.

“That’s just the white guilt talking baby,” She snorted before sobering up quickly. “Look it’s complicated right? Like given my problems with white people and white men in particular, I’m firm enough in my blackness and my identity to recognize everything that I just explained to you, while also recognizing that things are never black and white. No pun intended. I can still love your humanity and your individuality as long as you’re willing to do the same for me. I can recognize that not all white people are the same, that you all think alike. I just need the space to have conversations like this. I need someone who cares enough to learn. Anything else isn't worthy of my time. Either you’re down with me always, even when it isn’t convenient, or you’re not. So, which is it?”

Her eyes are wide and clear. It’s that firmness in the set of her jaw that gets him. She’s dead serious. Either he buys into her, and all of her, or he doesn’t deserve any of her. He can see that. He can understand it. It’s not that he wants her bad enough to “deal” with the rest of it. It’s that he wants her bad enough to understand all of her. He wants to know. Needs to.

“I’m down.” He assured her reaching for her cheek in his palm. “For all of it.”

“You’re sure?” She mumbled with desperate eyes. “Cause if you’re not we can go back New York and just be fuck buddies again. You can still find you some white girl without hundreds of years of internalized genocide and systemic oppression on her shoulders.”

He shook his head and kissed her until the tension melted from her body. Because he needed it to. He needed her belief in him, her trust.

“I’m so damn sure it’s insane. Just want you.” He whispered.

She reached for his lips pulling him back to kiss her again.

“Promise.” She demanded as if it was even an option.

“I promise.”

***

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