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atlabeth · 3 years

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transferred part 17 - atla smau

part 16 | masterlist | part 18

summary: trying to run from your past is hard, but falling for your brother’s roommate is even harder. little do you know he’s falling for you as well.

a/n: ahahah a ??? im sorry?? that this took so long?? as you know ive been dying of school and exams and even though ive gotten a couple oneshots out and did my celebration i just have not had the energy to write a whole mf chapter. but it’s here ! after a month of waiting

wc: 4.8k she is a LONG ONE FOLKS prepare yourselves

warning(s): cursing, alcohol and getting drunk, toxic relationships, mentions of cheating, implied emotional abuse, y/n having a breakdown, just an overall mess

“Katara, don’t pull so hard!” You exclaimed, reaching a hand up to touch your scalp. You had entrusted your sister with styling your hair for the party tonight, but only after insistent nagging on her part. She had invited — or forced, as you liked to call it — you over to their dorm to get ready for the party that night together and do all kinds of girl talk. You figured this was a trap to get you to talk about you and Zuko, but it’s not like you would deny an opportunity to hang out with some of your favorite girls.

“Sorry,” she chuckled. “Just think of it as retribution for all the times that you pulled my hair like this when you did my braids.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly and glanced over at Toph and Suki who had already gotten ready but still lounging around the dorm to hang out. “So.”

“So?” Suki repeated.

“So when are the questions going to start?” You asked with a small laugh. “I appreciate the invite over here to get ready, but I know you all just wanted to ask me about what’s going with Zuko. So ask away.”

“What happened during that car ride—”

“Has he said anything to you since the kiss—”

“What’s going on at the tea shop—”

“Woah, woah! One question at a time!” you interrupted as they all started going on at the same time. “First off, nothing happened during the car ride. We worked out some miscommunications, and we’re all good. Second — yes, we’ve talked since the kiss, but there’s been nothing groundbreaking. And third, the only thing going on at the tea shop is the tea that we’re serving.”

Toph groaned and shook her head. “Are you serious? That’s so boring!”

“You’re telling me that nothing has happened in the couple of weeks since the kiss? Like, are you sure you’re not in a secret relationship with him and just neglecting to tell us?” Katara asked.

“There’s nothing going on,” you insisted. “As much as I want something to go on, I… haven't’ really said anything either.”

“What?” Suki cried. “You are crazy for him, how have you not tried to make something out of this yet?!”

“I don’t know!” you shot back defensively. “I guess I’m just scared that everything will go wrong.”

“Look,” Suki began as she took a seat on the floor in front of you. “You are kind, funny, gorgeous as hell, and an all around amazing person — and Zuko has it just as bad for you as you do for him! So embrace all of that, get out there tonight, and make a move!”

It had been too long since you had gotten a pep talk from Suki, and it was strangely refreshing. You nodded and sat up. “You know, you’re right! I have just… I’ve been sitting around, waiting for him to make a move because I’m too scared of getting rejected. But I am a delight! I am a lovely person, and I am a delight. Besides, we’re both adults! Even if he doesn’t like me the same way I do—”

“Which he does,” Toph interrupted, which earned her a joking glare.

“Even if he doesn’t like me the same way I do,” you repeated. “We’re still going to be friends. It’ll just be a couple awkward weeks, and then we’ll be back to normal.”

“That’s as close to the spirit as we’re gonna get!” Katara exclaimed as she gave you a high-five.

“It’s about time,” Toph joked as she hit you on the shoulder. “Now, are you gonna get ready or what?”

“Right,” you chuckled. “I did get this super cute dress a while ago that I haven’t gotten a chance to wear. I think it’ll be perfect for tonight.”

“What are you waiting for, girl?” Suki asked. “Show us!”

After showing off your dress, you had finished up the final touches of your makeup and gotten one last pep talk from all of your girls — you were feeling more confident than ever, and you were sure that tonight was the night you would tell Zuko how you felt.

Back at the apartment, the boys were going through a similar dilemma.

“Zuko, what are you so scared about?” Sokka was hanging upside down off of the couch, a move he must’ve picked up from his sister, as he questioned his friend.

“I don’t know, everything? She could reject me, she could start to hate me, I could ruin everything that we’ve built over the past few months— you know, it’s not even that bad, what we have right now! What’s the harm in just staying like this?”

“Zuko,” Aang groaned. “I get being cautious, but this is just too much! You’re letting your fears get in the way of you and Y/N being happy. You kissed her, right? And she kissed you back! I’m telling you, if you let her know how you feel tonight then everything will work out. Trust me!”

“Seriously, buddy — it’s just painful at this point. It’ll be kinda weird having one of my friends date my sister again, but somehow, you two being apart is worse. Just tell her already!”

“Okay!” Zuko exclaimed defensively. He finished doing his hair then ran his fingers through it, ruining his work completely. When Sokka gave him a weird look, he shrugged and smiled to himself a bit. “Y/N likes it this way.”

Sokka gestured at him in disbelief and shook his head. “This is exactly what I mean!”

“Okay!” he repeated. Zuko leaned against the kitchen island and nodded. “Okay, I’ll tell her how I feel tonight. After she’s gotten into the party a little, I’ll take her outside and I’ll tell her how I feel.”

“And then you’ll kiss and it’ll be happily ever after!” Aang crooned.

Sokka rolled off of the sofa and stood up, then picked up the car keys from the table. “Someone text the girls, because we’re leaving. I can’t deal with this anymore.”

“You’re gonna do great tonight, Zuko,” Aang reassured as he gave Zuko a pat on the back. “Just remember why you like her in the first place, and speak from the heart. She likes you, so as long as you’re you, things will go great.”

Zuko nodded and gave Aang a small smile. “Thanks. I hope you’re right.”

As the two of them followed Sokka out of the apartment, he took another deep breath and tried to psych himself up. He was sure that tonight was the night he would tell you how he felt.

The seven of you regrouped with each other where you would be spending the rest of the night — because a ton of students were expected to celebrate the end of the first semester, the party was being hosted in a warehouse that a couple of kids had rented out for the night. It was more extravagant than the first party you went to in every way — you could hear the music thumping from all the way down the street as you got out of the car.

“Do you think we beat them here?” Suki asked as she helped Toph out. Katara locked the car and looked around, shaking her head as she pointed down the street. Sokka, Aang, and Zuko were all walking up together, having parked a couple cars down.

“They beat us by a minute. Probably broke a hundred different traffic laws in the process.”

“You guys made it!” Aang exclaimed as he gave Katara a kiss on the cheek. “Sokka forced Zuko to let him drive here, said he’s too slow and that he wanted to beat you all.”

“Sounds like him,” Suki joked as she took Sokka’s hand. “You ready, Big Shot?”

“I’m always ready,” he grinned, earning a laugh from you and Katara. Your eyes fell on Zuko as he walked up and you smiled, already starting to feel your cheeks heating up.

“Wow, Y/N, you look…”

“Amazing?” you guessed coyly.

“Breathtaking,” he clarified, the beginnings of a smirk playing on his lips. You laughed and looped your arm through his, and the two of you began making your way towards the party.

The rest of the group shot each other looks that ranged from overjoyed to bewildered to confused. As they started to follow you, they realized that getting the two of you together might be easier than they thought.

It wasn’t hard to get into the spirit of the night once you got into the party. There had to be at least a couple hundred people there, but it didn’t take long for everyone to start breaking off into groups. Suki had roped you in karaoke while Aang had taken Zuko to meet some of his friends, giving Sokka, Katara, and Toph time to strategize before setting the plan in motion.

“Okay!” Katara shouted so she could be heard over all the noise. “I don’t think we’re actually gonna have to do that much tonight! Just.. keep him busy for a while and then give him an out, and we’ll do the same with Y/N!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the whole plan. I made it up, remember?” Sokka wasn’t completely focused on the conversation at hand as his eyes darted around the scene, seemingly searching for something. His eyes suddenly lit up and he started to back away from their small group. “There he is! Sorry Katara, gotta go prove to a bunch of freshmen that they don’t know anything and I’m better than them. Aang can handle Zuko!” He grinned at her then ran off into the crowd before Katara could protest.

She sighed and turned to Toph. “Suki’s got Y/N occupied and Aang’s got Zuko, so it looks like it’s just you and me, Beifong. Whaddya wanna do?”

“You’re telling me you don’t want to see your sister embarrass herself with karaoke?” Toph asked.

Katara laughed and grabbed Toph’s hand as she started to lead them through the crowd. “You know what? That sounds perfect. After all the work we’ve done for her and Zuko, I think I deserve to laugh at her for a while.”

The first two hours of the party passed by quickly. You spent the first thirty minutes making a fool of yourself with Suki as you sang a couple classics on karaoke — though it was a bit humiliating, you had an amazing time. The second half of the hour went to the beer pong competition that Sokka’s friend Zhen had organized (they did end up winning, so you supposed his pride was well earned), and the next hour was dedicated to dancing, drinking, and letting loose. You had finished the first semester of your masters program, so you felt like you deserved it.

You had stolen away to an emptier corner to give yourself a breather as well as some alone time — you were enjoying yourself, but it was close to claustrophobic in the heat of it all. You were passing the time on your phone when you heard a familiar voice call your name. Your eyes immediately shot up as you tucked your phone into your purse, and you were met with your favorite pair of golden eyes.

“Hey,” Zuko breathed, taking a second to straighten his ruffled clothes. You couldn’t help the smile that played on your lips as you ran a hand through his hair to muss it up even further.

“Hey yourself,” you laughed. “What’s so important that you had to run all the way over here?”

“I have something I need to tell you. It actually is really important, but I think it’d go over better if we weren’t in the middle of all this chaos.”

You would be lying if you said that didn’t make your heart beat a little faster, and as you felt your cheeks heat up you realized that this was your chance. “Uh, yeah. Sure, totally— I actually have something I need to tell you, so that’s perfect!”

“Really?”

“Guess we’re just in tune.”

Zuko smiled as he took your hand and started to lead you through the crowd, but when you heard someone calling your name you froze. The blood in your veins turned to ice, and your grip on Zuko’s hand tightened. He shot you a questioning look but you didn’t even see it.

“No,” you muttered, barely legible. “No, not here.”

You almost didn’t want to turn around to confirm your suspicions. You could’ve ignored it, pretended like you didn’t hear it over the sounds of the party, but there was a voice nagging in your head that you couldn’t just ignore it, you had to find out if he was really, truly here — so you did.

You wanted nothing more to be wrong in that moment — honestly, you thought that you were hallucinating at first. You hadn’t had that much to drink, but maybe the alcohol combined with the sleep deprivation was making you see things. Unfortunately, it was real. You could never forget those eyes.

“Hahn,” you mumbled, the sight taking a moment to register. “Hahn, what the hell are you doing here?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m here to party, and I’m here to see you.” The grin on his face didn’t waver as he looked you up and down, choosing to ignore the blatant shock on your face.

“You are not here to see me,” you clarified coolly. “We’re not together anymore, and ex-boyfriends don’t make hour-long drives to see their ex-girlfriends, especially ex-girlfriends that they treated like trash.”

“I figured you’d be more happy to see me than this,” he huffed. “Ungrateful as usual.” Hahn seemed to finally notice Zuko and scoffed as he looked at him. “What, is he your new boyfriend? You really downgraded.”

“You have no right to talk to her like that—” Zuko stepped forward to say more but you held out your hand to stop him. You gave him a short nod and stepped forward yourself.

“Hahn, I’m going to ask you one more time.” You could feel your hands shaking, whether it was from rage or fear you didn’t know. Your voice was deadly calm, but it was taking all of your energy to stay that way. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Hahn laughed and crossed his arms. “You’re joking right?” His amusement was a notion that you didn’t share, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably before he continued. “You wouldn’t answer my texts, and you obviously still want me after the things you sent me. My brother had a game here and I came along to see him, so I figured I would pay you a visit as well. You never really officially broke up with me, y’know. Are you really going to let three years go down the drain because of one little incident?”

Now it was your turn to laugh — it was from pure disbelief rather than amusement, though. “Are you serious? Hahn, I left you! I walked out, I moved out, I transferred universities to get away from you! Are you really so dense that you still think you stand a chance based off of some drunk texts?”

“Woah, you think you’re giving me a chance? Y/N/N, this is my olive branch to you — I messed up, I know I did, but that doesn’t mean we can’t fix things up! I could have any girl I wanted back at Kyoshi, but I’m here because I want you — I love you, babe. You know I do.”

“You don’t get to call her ‘babe’,” Zuko snapped. “She doesn’t want you here, so why don’t you just save yourself some trouble and get out of here?”

Hahn snorted and shook his head. “Stay out of this, fireboy. Y/N’s a big girl, she can speak for herself.”

You looked around and saw that a modest crowd was forming around the three of you, and more than a few people were filming. If you didn’t want your relationship problems to become BSSU news, you had to defuse this as soon as possible.

“Listen,” you interrupted. “Zuko’s right, Hahn. It was a mistake to come here — if you’re as smart as you always say, then you would know that. Just.. go home.”

Hahn scoffed as if he couldn’t believe what you were saying. “No, you listen. I’m trying to do you a favor here, Y/N! I made one mistake, and apparently that was enough to ruin everything we had.”

“You know just as well as I do that it wasn’t one mistake!” you cried. “If you can really get any other girl you want, then do it! I mean, that wasn’t a problem for you during our relationship, so I don’t see why it’s a problem now. We’re not getting back together, so just stop!”

“It’s him, isn’t it?” he sneered as he gave Zuko another onceover. “He’s the reason you’re acting like this. I never thought that you would sink so low, but you’ve clearly gone soft. Come on, stop acting like a baby and we can talk this out alone.”

He started to reach for your hand but you pulled it back, and before you knew what you were doing, you had handed your drink to Zuko and your fist was flying right at Hahn’s face. It hurt like hell, but the pure satisfaction from seeing his shock as he recoiled was a painkiller on its own.

“How’s that for soft?” you spat as you rubbed your injured knuckles.

“You.. you bitch!” he yelled, staggering back a few feet as he put his hand over his nose in an attempt to stop the bleeding. “This is how you repay me after everything? You should be thankful I’m giving you another chance—” he started to reach for you again, but you slapped his hand away. You cast a glance back at Zuko and saw that he had been joined by Sokka and Katara, and knowing that they were with you made all the difference.

“I don’t want another chance!” you shouted. “You are the one that fucked up, you are the one that made my life hell, and you are not the one that gets to give out second chances! I gave you so many chances, and you messed up every single one! Hahn, I never want to see you again. And if you ever try something like this again, if you ever even try and talk to me again, I will do something so much worse. Now do the smart thing and get out!”

You gave him one hard shove to the chest then turned on your heel and ran. It was the coward’s move, you knew it was, but you couldn’t be there anymore. Tears blurred your vision as you pushed through the crowd to get to the back door, heaving shaky breaths once you finally made it outside. You could hear familiar voices yelling and felt the slightest tinge of joy knowing that your younger siblings were giving Hahn hell.

You leaned against the side of the building, pressing the heels of your hands against your forehead to try and stop yourself from having a full on breakdown. You started to count backwards from twenty in your head as your eyes scanned the area for something, anything, to ground you. It helped in the sense that you weren’t about to lose it right then and there, but you were still on the brink. You slid down the wall into a sitting position and hugged your knees to your chest, the tears finally falling.

This was your university, this was your night, this was for you to make new memories and end your first semester, but like everything else he had come in and ruined it. You had no idea how he even found you, how he knew you would even be here, but it scared you.

“Should’ve blocked you as soon as you… fucking asshole… can’t believe..” you mumbled incoherently as you pulled your phone out with shaky hands, blocking and deleting his number. You dropped your phone in your lap and then put your head in your hands, still trying to process everything that happened. You didn’t even look up when you heard someone coming outside, but somehow you immediately knew who it was.

“Hey, Y/N.. Are you.. okay?” Zuko’s voice was full of sympathy but also caution, as if you were a delicate flower you didn’t want to tear.

“Do I look okay, Zuko?” Your words came out much more aggressive than you wanted them to, and you bit your lip. You had always expected his kindness to be a double-edged sword, something he used just to get something from you, but it never was. Not even once. It made sense after what he told you, and it just made him an even better person in your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just.. not. Not in the slightest. Hahn was the last person I expected to see tonight.”

Zuko moved over and sat down against the wall with you then hovered his hand above yours, giving you a chance to pull away. When you didn’t move, he set his hand on yours, filling you with the comforting warmth that you missed.

“You don’t need to apologize. What he did was fucked up.” He cracked a small smile. “Punching him was pretty badass though.”

You wiped a tear away and let out a soft laugh. “It was about time I stood up for myself. Our whole relationship was built off of this sick power dynamic that he loved to wield over me. Things were fine for the first few months, of course. He had this douchebag reputation on campus, but I believed that I could change him, that I could be the one to make him settle down, and— and it felt like I had at first! He was the sweetest guy, and he always brought me things and took me out on dates and it was just- it was just a dream. But I should’ve known he was using me. He had never changed, he had just gotten better at hiding those parts of himself.”

“I had zero sense of self worth and he used that. Told me that if I broke up with him I would never find anyone better, always convincing me that I was the one in the wrong, that if I wasn’t so dramatic then we wouldn’t have all these arguments. And the worst thing about it? I believed him. I believed him every time.” Your voice cracked on your last sentence and you could feel yourself getting choked up again. You swallowed hard and tried your best to push your emotions back down. “I was so terrified that he was right, that I would end up alone if I broke up with him, that I stayed. And that was our relationship for the past three years — built off of fear and manipulation.”

“A lot of people wonder why I transferred here. Sure, I did it for my masters, but Kyoshi has a perfectly fine program. I had already established my life there, I had an apartment, lots of friends, and yeah, I was going to go through with it. I was going to get my masters back there, but I… I did it because of him. I left because of Hahn.”

“Y/N. What did he do?” There was a dangerous undertone to his words, and you placed your intertwined hands on his knee. You didn’t want him to do something he would regret, and more selfishly, you needed him here right now.

You closed your eyes and let the question hang in the air for a moment. You hadn’t told anyone the truth of how your relationship ended with Hahn, and this wasn’t how you had pictured telling Zuko. If you were being honest, you didn’t think you would ever tell him — but he deserved to know.

“He cheated.” You said the words so easily, so simply that you almost shocked yourself. It shocked Zuko too; you could see his eyes widen slightly from your peripherals.

“Yeah. He cheated on me. That’s how things ended. After everything I put into that relationship, everything I did for him, everything he took from me… I still wasn’t enough for him. I got home from class one day to find him in bed with another girl, and… that was it. Something inside me just snapped. That was my moment of clarity — no yelling, no crying, no… anything. I just left. A friend let me crash at her place, and that night I started the process of transferring here. I made a promise to myself that I would never let someone like Hahn in again, and… well, now we’re here.” You laughed humorlessly and wiped a tear from your eye.

It was like the breath had been stolen from Zuko’s chest. He had never fully understood why you were so reluctant to open up to people, but this explained it. You weren’t someone who gave out love freely, but you had to Hahn — and the way he had treated that love made him sick. He had ingrained in you the ideal that you couldn’t be loved, only tolerated, and that was why you had such a hard time accepting help from anyone. The thought alone made him want to find Hahn and get him back for everything he had done to you. The only thing stopping him was that he didn’t want to leave you alone.

“Y/N,” he muttered. “I had no idea. Katara and Sokka didn’t even know.. Why did you hold all of this in?”

“Because I was scared, Zuko! I got myself into this mess with a stupid boy that everyone had warned me about, so I felt like I had to get myself out. Even when things took a turn for the worse, I felt like I couldn’t involve anyone else because it was my fault. It was my fault for trusting someone like him, it was my fault for believing all of his lies, it was my fault for not being good enough. And even after everything he did to me, a part of me still missed him.” You let out a laugh that was a touch unhinged. “There’s something seriously wrong with me.”

“Y/N, look at me.” You tore your eyes up from the ground and at Zuko — his golden irises looked the same as the first time you met him and it was oddly comforting.

“There is nothing wrong with you. Okay? And I know it’s easier said than done, believe me, I know, but you don’t need to be scared. I understand why you were so hesitant to share what happened with Hahn, but you don’t need to be. I don’t know how much weight my words have, but I want you to know that you can always tell me what is happening with you. Whether it’s a life changing event or just what you did that morning, I’ll listen to you. You aren’t alone, Y/N, because I’m here for you. I always will be.”

Your eyes widened with surprise as you stared into his own. This was the most sincere you had ever seen Zuko, even more than the night he told you about his life. There was a nagging voice in the back of your head telling you to kiss him, feel that warmth again, forget about what had happened for just a moment.

But as the familiar prick of incoming tears returned, you knew you couldn’t. You were drunk, on the verge of a complete breakdown, and anything that happened between you tonight would be tainted with the memory of Hahn. So with a concentrated effort, you tore your eyes away from his and swallowed, your throat dry and scratchy from the screaming match you had gotten yourself into.

“I don’t think I can spend another minute here. I hate to ask, but.. can you take me home?” you asked quietly. “You might not be able to tell, but I’m not in a state to do anything right now.”

“Of course.” You gave his hand another squeeze to let him know that he hadn’t overstepped, and stood up. The two of you began the walk back to the car and Zuko let go of your hand, shifting so that he could instead wrap his arm around your back. You smiled softly and leaned your head against his shoulder, the gesture a welcome comfort.

“Thank you,” you whispered. He squeezed your shoulder softly in response, a silent notion that said everything he couldn’t.

Tonight had been a wreck, that much was certain. Your past had resurged in the most painful way possible, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to get through it alone.

But you weren’t alone this time. You had Zuko.

And with Zuko by your side… you knew you would be okay.

perm taglist: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin

transferred: @ourbestfriend-mishacollins @lil-lex1 @xxshad0wxb1rdxx @zuko-is-the-sun @akiris @irohs-teapot @thatarthistorynerd @charlenasaxen @minninugget @marvel-ousnesss @count-thotticus @what-ye-egg @furblrwurblr @thesstuff @mariachiii @ietss @dizzy-miss-lizzieeeeee @xbarrjallenx @tommy-braccoli @dreamsluvrr @floofybread @thelovelylolly @lin-biefong-is-my-life @tiffanyy-21 @sistheselenophile @theincredibledeadlyviper @bakugouswh0r3 @loganrwebb @mikaslilworld @matsunshine @iris-suoh @aizameow @h3llbun

atla: @marianne1806

#zuko x reader #avatar the last airbender x reader #avatar the last airbender #atla fic #atla smau #zuko smau #avatar #atla #zuko #social media au #zuko x you #zuko x y/n #avatar x reader #zuko fic #zuko atla #zuko avatar

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uwuwriting · 4 years

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Yandere ex w/ Midoriya and Bakugou

Request: Can I request some headcanons about Deku, Bakugou annnddd whoever else you'd like with reader and they are currently dating

Reaction to reaching you from your crazy ex boyfriend who is...very powerful and has managed to corner you, alone. You're scared, you're a civilian.

" oh shh. Don't cry baby, i'm here. Now that I'm here, you're all mine, now that you're done being silly. You and me forever"

( thought that'd get the creepy factor)

I'm just a sucker for rescue missions. I'm just so interested in how they'd approach that situation, how they'd comfort reader afterwards

Thank you. For reading this if you don't do this

Which is totally fine! - anonymous

Bruh rescue missions are just *chef’s kiss*. I’ve been having a mini Deku and Bakugou infatuation and I just wanna see more fics with these cuties and their civilian s/os. Like legit there aren’t enough fics with quirkless/civilian readers out there and I’m sad. Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: stalking, attempted kidnapping, mentions of toxic past relationships, being chased, eventual fluff in the form of comfort, TW BEWARE.

Midoriya Izuku/ Pro hero! Deku

-Izuku believed you were an angel walking on earth.

-He met you in the brink of death *literally* when you stitched him up and stabbed an IV into his arm.

-It was love at first sight for him tbh and he is proud to admit it too.

-Soon enough -and after many many more visits to the hospital so he can be treated by dr. L/N- he asked you out and now you’re living together.

-He knows about your ex and he hates him for what he did to you.

-He has coaxed you into relaxing many nights after you’ve had terrible nightmares about your ex finding you again and this time not only putting your freedom on the line but also Izuku’s safety.

-You know he is a pro hero and all but you can’t stop seeing him on your apartment floor, unmoving with your ex looming over him.

-He is always there to chase that horrible darkness away and replace it with the warmth of his love.

-So as time passed, thoughts of your ex became less and less frequent until they stopped popping up throughout the day all together and you were happy with that.

-Then the universe decided that it should serve you with a good old traumatizing experience to spice things up.

-You were walking home after your shift at the hospital was over, exhausted out of your mind when you felt the hairs at the back of your neck rise.

-It was like a sixth sense, knowing that something was up.

- “Y/n-chan~”

-Your blood ran cold at the familiar voice, your mind going blank as you quickly fished out your phone dialing Izuku’s number while speeding up.

- “Hey angel w-”

- “Izu he is here. H-he is f-following me.”

-You heard his feet hitting the pavement on the other line as he ran down the busy street, completely forgetting about the patrol he was on.

- “Where are you angel?”

-Sharing your location with him you took a sharp turn and into a convenience store, walking to the very back and hiding behind a few shelves, your eyes glazing over as you heard the sliding doors ding as your ex stepped inside not even a minute after you.

-When did he get so close?

- “Izu please.”

- “I’m almost there Y/N, I’ll protect you I promise.”

-You held your breath as footsteps got closer, Izuku’s breathing keeping you grounded as they echoed through the other line.

-Dipping behind another shelf you zigzagged through the aisles hoping to lose him as you slowly and quietly made your way to the entrance, your plan being to run outside and find Izuku.

-Your plan though was cute short when an arm wrapped tightly around your waist bringing you flush with a sturdy chest, your ex’s head dipping into your hair and breathing in your scent in an exaggerated sniff.

- “You like the chase Y/N-chan~? I’ve got you now.”

-Izuku’s panicked voice could be heard coming from your phone as he listened to your ex talking to you.

-A whimper of your actual boyfriend’s name left your lips in an attempt to get away from him but his grip on you tightened making a sob escape you as tears cascaded down your cheeks, too many awful memories of your past relationship flooding your mind.

-You wanted your Izuku.

- “Aww baby don’t cry. And my name isn’t Izuku so don’t make that silly little mistake again because it doesn’t make me happy when you call out other men’s names. I got you now and everything will be back to normal in no time. Just you and me my sweet Y/N.”

-You thrashed around, your hands clawing at the arm wrapped around your waist and the other one that was holding your chin.

-In your panic you didn’t even hear the ding of the store’s doors as your boyfriend stepped in, eyes immediately locking on your crying features and the outer fear in your eyes as you ex tried kissing your neck.

-It took him mere seconds to untangle you from your ex’s grasp and pull you safely into his chest, a punch flying right into your attackers jaw as he fell to the floor with a loud thud.

-His hands went immediately to cradle your head near his chest, rubbing soothing circles on your back as you sobs wracked through your body.

- “Shh angel, it’s me I’m right here shh. He can’t hurt you Y/N.”

-Police sirens echoed outside as a few officers poured through the double doors, Izuku scooping you up and taking you outside trudging the familiar road to your shared apartment.

-You wouldn’t let go of his hero costume as he calmly set you on your shared bed, whispering to you that he was only going to the closet to help you both change.

-It took him a lot of time to actually calm you down and when he managed it he called his agency to inform them that he would be taking the day off.

-The only thing he could do after that was hold you as close to his chest as he possibly could, reassuring you that he wouldn’t be coming anywhere close to you from now on that he was officially gone.

Bakugou Katsuki/ Pro Hero! Dynamight

-It was a stupid argument that escalated and now he found himself crashing at Kirishima’s.

-You two hadn’t talked for about a week now and Bakugou feared that you had had enough of him and you would break up if he called.

-He felt awful.

-He just wanted to go back home to you, kiss you, hug you, be back in his normal routine with the love of his life but no he had to be stubborn and push you to your limits with a silly argument that he doesn’t even remember what the fuck it was about.

-It was the third sleepless night for him and he couldn’t stop his brain from drifting to you and what you might be doing.

-You on the other hand were terrified out of your mind.

-Not long after Katsuki stormed out of your apartment you had started getting texts from an unknown number saying things like “He is finally gone” and “Now we can be together again dolly.”

-The nickname had sent shivers down your spine, memories of your toxic/yandere ex flooding your mind.

-Katsuki had helped you run away from him and heal after those dark days.

-Walking to the kindergarten you worked at became a constant threat.

-You were always looking behind your shoulder for anyone who might be following you, coming very close to calling Katsuki more than once when you thought that you had caught a whiff of your ex.

-You began asking your coworkers to walk home with you using the excuse that it felt kinda lonely walking alone.

-Things reached a tipping point when the photos started coming in.

-Photos of you in your class helping the kids, on your way to the station to catch your train every morning and even from inside your own house.

-Photos of you putting on one of Katsuki’s hoodies was filled with manic scribbles of the word stop as a big red circle was drawn around your boyfriend’s sweatshirt.

-It terrified you and you wanted nothing else than to call Katsuki and beg him to come back.

-But despite it all your worthless pride and ego got in the way convincing you that you would fight your ex with your own two hands.

-All those thoughts were tossed out the window when you heard your ex’s voice outside your apartment’s door on a late Friday night.

- “Dolly open the door~”

-In less than a second you had pushed the kitchen table in front of the door, your fingers hastily dialing Katsuki’s number, tears already streaming down your cheeks as your ex pounded at the front door, his voice and pleas becoming more and more aggressive as the seconds ticked by.

-Two agonizing minutes passed before Bakugou answered, his gruff voice reaching your ears from the other line as he answered with a short “What”

- “Katsu please h-he is trying to get in. H-he is at the d-door. I-I don’t know what to do.”

- “Baby lock yourself in our room and try to barricade the door. After that hide I’ll be there before you know it.”

-You could hear a door slamming shut and his hasty steps coming through the other line.

-Doing as you were told you locked your bedroom door, pushing your dresser in front of it as more bangs came from the front door the legs of the kitchen table scraping the floor as the door almost rattled off its hinges.

-Ducking underneath your bed you let out a few whines to which Katsuki answered with reassuring words.

- “I’m almost there baby, I’ll save you. Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby. I should be home with you right now keeping you safe from that lunatic. I’m sorry I love you so much.”

- “Katsu please hurry please. I-I’m so scared. Please.”

- “I can see our building don’t worry-”

-A loud thud came from the kitchen and only a few seconds later something rammed into the bedroom door ripping another whimper from your throat.

- “Oh my god Katsu he’s in our house!!”

- “Y/N, dolly, why are you making this so difficult my love? I just want” *thud* “to love you” *thud* “the way you” *thud* “DESERVE!”

-In one finally push your dresser was finally knocked over as the door creaked slightly open, your ex squeezing through the crack a laugh and a breathy moan of your name escaping his lips as he stepped inside.

- “Katsuki I lo-”

-The only thing that Katsuki could hear was your scream as he barreled up the stairs to your apartment.

-He was gonna skin that bastard alive for hurting you and then he would skin himself alive for allowing this to happen.

-He will never forget the look of pure terror in your eyes as you ex was pining you on the floor, your eyes darting through the room desperately searching for a way to escape this.

-Katsuki tackled your assailant, straddling his waist as he let punch after punch connect with the bastard's face as you cowered to the far corner of the room.

-After a few minutes of relentless punching your ex was knocked out cold while Katsuki was cradling you to his chest, rubbing circles onto your scalp as you sobbed in his chest.

-You don’t remember much of what happened later, too exhausted to process anything and too comfortable in Katsuki’s arms as he led you to Kirishima’s house to spend the night.

-He refused to take you to a hotel, he thought you would feel safer in a familiar environment.

-Kiri left you two alone as Katsuki prepared a bath and a change of clothes.

- “Katsu…”

-His name left your lips as a mere whisper and it broke his heart.

- “I can’t go back to our house...He had been in there….he had taken pictures I-I”

- “Shh it’s alright. It was getting kinda small for us anyways. Shh Don’t worry about it.”

- “I’m sorry Katsu, I’m so sorry.”

-It would take a lot of hard work to build up your sense of safety and he knew it but he was ready to give it his all for you.

- “No need to apologize baby. You know I would do anything for you and your safety and I’ll be here next to you now matter what. I love you and I will never stop. You kinda have my wrapped around your finger, woman.”

-You let out a weak giggle followed by an “I love you” of your own and a little peck on the lips, as you snuggled close to him, his arms bringing you safely to his chest in a way to calm your nerves.

-You really did have wrapped around your finger.

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@the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei @dnarez @storage11037 @wolfkid22 @letscheereachotheron @ezoyscorner @luluwiie @threeamwriting @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses

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bitchassbucky · 3 years

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Word Count: 1.4k

Warning/s: toxic relationship dynamics, dark!bucky x dark!reader, stalking, coercion and lying, manipulative tendencies, injuries and blood mention, food was mentioned for a bit

A/N: WE ARE GETTING THERE, BABES WHEW OKAY

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A month had passed since your not-date date had happened. You tried to forget the rest of the day, only focusing on how he looked and talked to you that day. How he smiled, trying to play off the ‘cool guy’ narrative.

You suddenly grew cold, noticing how your conversations became sparse—dry in between. Fewer texts and long waits. It made you nervous, sad, and a little bit annoyed. You barely see him around the office too—has Bucky been avoiding you?

His office is a bit out of the way for you to accidentally stumble in, anyway; the days you’re in the office were unsynchronized. Would it count as a punishable offense if you mess up with your company-approved laptop?

Saying you missed Bucky is an understatement: the bottle of cologne that smells like him sits empty on your dresser. The pictures you took of him taped loosely on your corkboard. Bits and pieces of papers he gave you tacked on it haphazardly.

Can someone die from loneliness?

Is this what being in love feels like?

Suffocating, consuming, your chest feels heavy, and your stomach is in knots.

—

Another month, another throng of employees needing new passwords. There are literal posters around the floor reminding everyone to use a password manager. Bucky can’t believe that he has to work with idiots around him. When he took up computer science as a major in college, he imagined himself hacking into… government intel, or something. Not looking after dimwits that don't know how to install an update.

His text messages are red with notifications—bank updates, deliveries, and you.

For some reason, Bucky can’t bring himself up to return your messages. Hi’s, hey’s, and how are you’s littered his text chain. Is he a bad person for not replying back? He can always just make up an excuse, right?

When you told him that you liked him, kissed him like you meant it, his fondness dispersed into thin air. The easy is never worthy and the worthy is never easy, as his father told him.

A ding from his phone brought him forth, another text from you: coming up right now, can we talk?

Now, he can’t come up with an excuse.

—

Bucky heard you before you come in, knocking on his door like the first time you met.

He clears his throat, calling out a come in! before rolling back from his cluttered desk. Tickets were few and far in between, he knows he can spare you at least 20 minutes but he just doesn’t want to.

“Hey,” you said, your head poking into his office. You weren’t entirely sure why you came up here in the first place, you really, really, really just wanted to see him again.

Bucky chuckles, pulling the door open for you. “What’s up? Is everything okay?”

You breathe out a little, shaking the feeling sinking deep inside your stomach, “yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine.” Stepping into his office, you eye his desk. He’s been busy. Papers and files are piling up on the left side of his desk, half of his setup is covered with those post-it notes. Several mugs littered his small space.

Huh, “Sorry, I can come back some other time.”

Turning on your heel, you pivot a little to grab the door when Bucky grabs your upper arm, “don’t go—”

He realizes the implications if someone were to see the two of you and so he lets go, much to your discomfort. You face him, either way, you’re sure he’s not gonna let you go that easily.

“Sorry, it’s just- I missed you.”

And there it was. I missed you.

He was thinking about you.

“I was just gonna drop off some files… But,” you rake your brain for a coherent train of thought, “I missed you too.”

A smile of relief overcomes Bucky’s features, his eyes crinkling just the way you like. His steely blue eyes hidden beneath his lashes.

“I have uh, a thing later… Dinner with friends—do you wanna come?” You make a show of peering over his shoulder and onto his desk, “unless you’re busy?”

“I’d love to come.” He says, tucking his pointer finger underneath your chin, flicking it forward so you’d look at him, “what time is it?”

“Come by around seven. I’ll text you my address.”

Bucky doesn’t need your address. He already came a dozen times by your building, trying to build up the nerve to knock on your door and kiss you silly. Like in those movies you watch late at night.

But he’s conflicted, no?

Are you really as good as they come?

—

At six-thirty, you already sent the text: take the east street, beige apartment block. I’m on the third floor, second door to your right. :)

At six-fifty five, Bucky’s already there, his car idling on the sidewalk. He’s… nervous. Why is he nervous? It’s just dinner. A small get-together with friends. Speaking of friends, he didn’t see any unfamiliar cars parked on the block. Maybe it’s not work friends?

Letting out a sigh, Bucky fetches the small bouquet of flowers and wine he brought, just in case. He doesn’t wanna be the only one showing up empty-handed.

On the dot, Bucky knocks on your door. He plasters on his best smile as you open the way, revealing yourself.

God, you look gorgeous. Why did he stop hanging out with you in the first place?

Oh, right.

“Aw, flowers and wine? You’re too sweet!” You chirp out, stepping out of the way to let him into your apartment. Taking the gifts from his hands, you put them away while Bucky busies himself checking out your place.

It’s weird seeing your place in real life. Bucky noted the hint of lavender in the air, coupled with a smidge of coffee brewing. He’s so used to seeing parts of it but not everything-everything. He careens his neck to look down the hallway, catching a glimpse of your bedroom.

“If you’re lucky, you can see it tonight.” A peal of boisterous laughter comes out of you, lightly kicking his foot with yours, “I’m kidding. It’s off-limits for visitors, sorry.”

“Right…” Bucky looks around, shifting his weight from the balls of his feet up to his toes. “Am I too early? I can help you set the table.” The table is halfway finished and you’re stirring in cheese into a sauce. Roux, perhaps.

“No, it’s okay…” You trail off, lowering the heat before facing Bucky, “I lied.”

“What?”

“There’s no dinner—I mean, there is. Just not with friends.” You bite your lip, looking down on your shoes before tearing your gaze away from the floor to meet Bucky’s eyes.

“You lied? Why- why would you lie about that?” Annoyance and frustration all seep out near the surface. His jaw ticking as he gritted his teeth.

“Are you mad?”

“Are you mad?” Bucky asks back in a mocking tone, bringing his fist down the dinner, “you—you’re crazy. I knew it, I knew you’re crazy. Lying about dinner and what, trying to get me alone? Jesus, what--” He lets out a mirthless laugh, the one that sends chills down your spine.

You stood there, frozen at your spot. You’re hurt. He called you crazy. He called you crazy when he’s the one who spied on you for weeks on end.

When he’s the one who watches you at night.

When he’s the one who left those notes on your desk.

The one who sent those texts and left calls and voicemails.

“Fuck you.” Your words rang empty as Bucky walked out of the kitchen in long strides. The dinner long forgotten.

You calmly watch him turn the doorknob open, failing when the adjacent locks prevent him from opening the door. Two deadbolts and a chain lock. Never would you have thought that the threat would be coming inside your home.

“I’d think twice before leaving without dinner.”

—

Bucky stirs awake. The sound of cutlery on plates grating on his nerves. His head is throbbing. His right temple feels tight and tender, there’s something hard and crusty covering the right side of his face. He can suddenly feel the weight of his left arm, leaning over to compensate for the sudden pain.

He wasn’t aware that he had closed his eyes; the lights suddenly glaringly bright.

Right, the dinner.

The dinner?

Wasn’t he supposed to—

“Thank fuck. I thought you were dead.”

God, he hopes he is.

#bitchassbucky writes #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x reader smut #dark!bucky x reader angst #dark!bucky x reader fluff #dark!bucky #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader smut #dark!bucky barnes x reader angst #dark!bucky barnes x reader fluff

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iguessweallcrazyithinktho · 3 years

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 IV

Previous part

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬. 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐲. 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮

Genre: angst

Warning: jealousy, argument, kinda a love triangle

Pairing: damiano David x reader, Victoria de angelis x reader, bisexual reader

Please don't post any of my content anywhere else without my permission!

Comment and reblogs welcome

A few weeks had past since you shared a kiss with Victoria. You both have grown closer and closer throughout that time.

Damiano soon Became a blur in your mind something you never thought was possible. Damiano wasn't happy right now unlike you. Nicole was driving him nuts and you blocking his number drove him crazy too. He asked Victoria how you were and she always said yes but that wasn't enough for him. Damiano suspected you had moved on to another person, but he had no idea it who it was with. Damiano wanted to do a little investigating.

Around 4 pm he left his house to go to the studio with the band. Even though he was there it was quite obvious his mind was elsewhere.

After 3 hours they decided to end the night and go separate ways. Damiano noticed how Victoria was excited to leave and see you. Even though that was normal because you always was like that today it felt a little different.

He got into his car and drove over to your place after Victoria left a few minutes earlier.

He Parked a few car spaces down expecting to see another guy coming out of the house. Instead it was you coming out. You looked beautiful damiano thought to himself.

You walked over to Victorias car with a smile, you let her get out before you leaned in and kissed her.

The action made damiano gasp; he sat up in his seat, mouth wide open as he you pull away. You looked at Victoria happily, in a way you used to with damiano.

As you two walked inside the apartment damiano ran his hands over his face. He didn't know what to think or what to feel. He just saw his two friends kissing, something he never expected.

In the inside his heart ached, but he wasn't going to deny it. All of this was his fault. If he would've never chose Nicole over you than this would have been like this.

The next day damiano woke up. It was around 6am way before Nicole woke up. He decided to slip out of the house before she awoken, he didn't have time for her long talks in the morning. At least not now.

He got up slip on some pants, a clean shirt and some shoes before he made his way outside.

Damiano began walking down the street getting some much needed fresh air. His mind was still filled of the image of you kissing Victoria. It seemed like no matter how hard he tried he could never erase it from his mind and that sucked.

He reached the end of the street and stopped to let the car pass before he went. He didn't notice but you and Victoria were walking up the streets at the same time.

You were the first to lay eyes on him. You stopped talking to Victoria, your smile falling. Victoria followed your eyes to see damiano Crossing the street. He had soon notice the both of you causing him to stop.

"Vic.. y/n."

He looked between you both with a Forced smile. "Hi Damiano." Victoria started. "How are you?"

"I'm fine." Damiano tone came out cold making you and Victoria look at him confused. "I'm sorry is there something wrong Damiano?" You said no longer deciding to be silent.

"yeah actually their is. You and Victoria decided to hid from me that you two were sleeping together or whatever you two are doing when you could've told me so yeah I'm pissed off that's what was wrong."

Damiano stood there anger in his eyes. Even though he was angry it was nothing compared to you.

"damiano, you lost the opportunity to know what was going on in my life when you decided to end our friendship. Victoria has been there for me through these past month making sure I'm ok while you were with your skank. Me or Victoria Don't have to tell you anything so don't count on it. We kissed, yes. Maybe we're an item but that's none of your business. Now."

you turned to Victoria and took her hand. "If you excuse us, we have a walk to finish. Have a good day damiano."

You walked away with Victoria leaving damiano standing there. he wasn't expecting that out of you, but you needed to say it. Damiano lost his right to know what was going on in your life a while ago and he needed to know it. The truth hurts

I kinda rushed with this so sorry if it doesn't make sense. Next part coming soon

@anxioustransboi @tiaamberxx @jinxy175

#damiano David #damiano David x reader #damiano david x you #Victoria de angelis x reader #Victoria de angelis #damiano David angst

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sodasback · 3 years

Text

Origin Story - Part 3

ER Nurse Rafe x ER Nurse Reader

Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: Unprofessional work environment stuff. Alcohol consumption. Cursing. Unedited, will go through and edit later.

Not my photo. All credit to owner/creator. <3

The next couple weeks you focused on being a new nurse in the Emergency Department. Your life was filled with shifts with a preceptor and tons of classes and trainings.

You were thankful for being so busy because otherwise you would be constantly ruminating on the night at Crazy 8′s and what you said to Rafe. You can’t believe how drunk you got in front of your brand new coworkers and how shamelessly you flirted with Rafe. And the worst part was: you didn’t know how he took it. Really the last time you said more than a couple words to each other was when he started your IV that next morning. It seemed like everything was okay, but you flushed every time you saw him on the floor. And then you’d curse at yourself for having such a crush on a guy.

You were by yourself in the med room, finishing up at the Pyxis, pulling meds for your patient when Rafe walked in.

“Hey Y/L/N, I feel like every time I see you, you’re running around. How’re you doing?” Rafe asked, taking your spot at the Pyxis.

“Doing good!” You told him, almost too enthusiastically. “How are you?”

Rafe let out a little chuckle at your new formality with him. “I’m good.”

You hesitated for a second looking at Rafe’s back while he faced the Pyxis, wondering if you should bring up what you were thinking.

“Listen, Rafe.” He turned around once he heard the serious tone in your voice, causing you to look down for a second before meeting his gaze again. “I want everyone here to see me as competent and I want to maintain everyone’s respect, including your’s. ...so that night at the bar, when you took me home I don’t remember exactly what I said, but I’m just really embarrassed that I-”

“Y/N, you don’t have to say anything. Everyone here has had a night at Crazy 8′s and you didn’t say anything that night that you should worry about, okay? I already know you’re a badass nurse who’s more competent then some of our seasoned RNs. You have all of our respect, including mine.”

You smiled at him and nodded.

You started to turn away, but then stopped yourself, “But didn’t I kinda throw myself at you when you brought me to my apartment?” You asked, putting your hand to your forehead and scrunching your eyes shut, only peeking at him when you heard him chuckle breathlessly.

“Uhh, yeah, you might have tried to flirt a little. But like I said, you didn’t say anything I didn’t want to hear.” He looked you in the eyes, trying to gauge your reaction.

Your lips parted and you opened your mouth to speak, when your preceptor for the day popped her head in. “Y/N, come on, bed 12 is going for CT.”

The following weekend was Edgar’s birthday which brought everyone back to Crazy 8′s that Friday night. You were determined to go and only maintain a slight buzz and classy behavior the entire night to make up for the last time you were at the ED crew’s favorite bar.

The night started out with everyone buying Edgar shots and of course, Edgar dancing the night away. At one point, Edgar and you were out on the dance floor with everyone else. The birthday boy had a cocktail in hand he was sipping from. You didn’t notice, but as the two of you danced, Edgar saw his best friend behind you. Edgar mischievous grin grew on his face before forcefully twirled you away from him and into Rafe’s chest.

“Woah, watch where you’re twirling Rookie. If you wanted to dance, you could have just asked, you didn’t have to tackle me.” He teased.

You rolled your eyes, “You flatter yourself too much Cameron. You can thank your bestie over there for launching me into you.” As you let Rafe grab your hand and twirl you around.

“Oh, don’t worry I will.” He smirked, and nodded at Edgar who made an obscene gesture that the 2 of you just laughed at.

The two of you continued to dance for a few songs and it was innocent enough, until a sensual song came on. Your hands had a mind of their own as they moved to rest on Rafe’s shoulders and his settled on your waist.

As the song continued and the alcohol coursed through your veins, you felt your inhibitions fading as your fingers laced together behind his neck and he pulled you closer as his hands gripped lower on your waist and the small of your back, dangerously close to your ass. Your smiles both faded as you looked into his eyes and your lips parted.

The song was coming to an end. “I think I need some air” You whispered, still looking in Rafe’s eyes. He looked toward the balcony patio and turned, firmly holding your hand, pulling you behind him and maneuvering his way through the crowd for you.

The cold air hit you and instantly sobered you a little, which honestly, only made you more sure of your attraction to your new coworker. It also didn’t help that outside was completely empty. It was just the 2 of you.

Rafe pulled you close to the railing where there was a beautiful view of the city lights. “Better?” He asked as he leaned on the railing.

You followed suit but shivered at the cold metal hitting your skin coupled with the chill of the outside air. “Yeah. Just a little cold. But good.”

“Here” Rafe said, as he slipped his flannel off.

“Oh no. It’s okay, I’m fine-”

“Just put it on Y/N.” Rafe smirked at you. You smiled and slipped it on, not missing the sweet smell of his cologne wrapped around you.

You both leaned on your elbows against the railing and looked out at the view in a moment of silence.

“So beautiful” you muttered in a blissful tone.

“Yeah” Rafe agreed quietly, but you turned to see he was looking at you and not the view. Your eyes widened ever so slightly and your mouth dropped open a little. Before you could stop yourself your lips were on his.

You felt like you had been struck by lightning and you couldn’t stop from moaning softly against Rafe causing him to let out a gentle grunt before you both opened your mouths and deepend the kiss.

The kiss was only getting more passionate when you had a moment of clarity. You pushed at Rafe’s chest and pulled away. “Shit!” You cursed closing your eyes, hitting your palm to your forehead and turning away from Rafe.

“Y/N-“ Rafe tried to stop your impending freak out he already knew was coming.

“I’m such an idiot!” You exclaimed. “I can’t believe I’m making out with my coworker I’ve known for what? Like 3 weeks?!”

“Hey! Relax. It’s fine.” Rafe tried again.

“Of course you think it’s fine! Every girl at work probably throws themselves at you! And now you think I’m just another-“

“Y/N!” Rafe grabbed your shoulders, “Chill! I’ve never made a move on a coworker before, so don’t worry about that. And I don’t see you like that. You’re not just some girl.”

“Rafe we barely know each other!” You reminded him, “Can we just forget this happened please?!” You asked exasperated and still freaking out. You didn’t miss the disappointment flood Rafe’s face, but you were too freaked out and buzzed to do anything about it.

“Yeah, of course.” he agreed easily.

You shuffled your feet back and forth and took a deep breath.

“Are we good? Is it gonna be all awkward now?” You asked, still stressing.

Rafe laughed, “Why ‘cause you’re a bad kisser?” He teased and answered your question for you.

Your mouth dropped open in offense, “Shut up! Take it back!”

“Make me!” Rafe furrowed his brow at you. And you punched him in the shoulder.

“Ow! I’m just kidding. Lighten up, Rookie. Yeah, we’re fine. ...Are you good?” He asked, giving your hand a squeeze.

“Good.” You smiled, squeezing back. “Kay, I’m gonna go back in first, okay?”

And you started to turn, “Wait, Y/N.”

You groaned, “Cameron! Don’t make this harder! We can’t-”

“I was just gonna say, I kinda need my shirt back, if we’re gonna play this off.” He said.

You almost died from embarrassment. “Oh yeah! Right, right right! I’m so dumb. I’m sorry- I “

“Y/N!” Rafe stopped you from going off on a tangent while laughing at your ability to easily fall back into a freak out.

“Yeah” You agreed and shrugged off his flannel, handing it back to him.

Of course, you panicked when you got home and tossed and turned worrying about what happened between you and Rafe.

Then, you got a text message from an unknown number

Unknown #: Stop worrying about it.

You knew it was Rafe, but you didn’t have his number saved.

You: How do you have my phone number, stalker?

Rafe: We have unit directory, Rookie.

You: Likely story. How’d you know I was worrying?

Rafe: Lucky guess ;) We can forget it happened

Rafe: ...if you want to.

You stomach dropped and you took a second before you dialed Rafe’s number.

“Hey” He greeted.

“What if I don’t want to forget it happened?” You asked.

#rafe cameron #ER Nurse Rafe #nurse!rafe #nurse!reader #Rafe Cameron x Nurse!Reader #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #outer banks #obx

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callmeelle22 · 3 years

Text

Blue Dream VII

Pairing: Iris West x Barry Alen

Rating: E

Chapter Word Count: 9, 034

Summary: A series of sporadic dates between Iris and Barry turn into something more, a story in its own making.

Chapter I: Primetime

Chapter II: It's Cool

Chapter III: Anything

Chapter IV: Comfortable

Chapter V: The Way

Chapter VI: Say Yes

Chapter VII: Brave; They fuck with the rain like a soundtrack behind them, like a song that swells and stretches, telling their story, but you're so brave; stone cold crazy for loving me; yeah, I'm amazed; i hope you make it out alive, a song that rises and rises, that sounds too good to be real, that might destroy you, but only in the best way. (Read below or on AO3 linked on the chapter title.)

Chapter VIII: Blue Dream

Brave

Broken hearts are made for two

One for me and one for you

Tell me have you heard the news

We are now in love

Fall break from school is scheduled during the last three days of the last week of October. Before she can take some time off, Iris has midterm articles to write and grade. Barry is busy testing DNA samples or whatever it is CSIs do so they don’t see each other for several days after he leaves her house the morning after Wally’s party.

On the Wednesday of Fall Break, the first day off, Iris lets herself sleep in until almost 10, and then she packs up her bag, stuffing a notebook, a couple of pens, and her laptop in, before dressing comfortably in a pair of dark leggings, and a white oversized CCU hoodie she stole from her brother. Throwing on a pair of white low-top Chuck Taylors, Iris heads out to Jitters. It’s a rainy day, and other than workers who’ve no choice, not many people are out. A storm is brewing for later in the night, the sky dark and cloudy, but for the moment, it’s just a steady rain that has Iris walking carefully to her car and driving a lot slower, thanking her lucky stars that she finds a parking spot right in front of the coffee shop.

Back in high school, especially once her dad had gotten her a used car during the beginning of senior year, Iris and Linda would come to Jitters to do homework or stare at the college boys who would come in. The coffee shop has expanded since then, buying the small antique store that had been next door and adding more seating and a bar that specializes in alcoholic coffee brews. It’s still one of Iris’s favorite places to work because now the manager is a young Black woman with wild curly hair always dyed in one bright color or another and a soft spot for mid to late 90s R & B female singers. The shop is comfortable, with couches and overstuffed chairs in mismatched browns and beiges and blues set up near the walls and windows and several tables, two- and four-tops, taking up the space in the middle. Two of the walls are exposed brick and the others are painted stark white and feature framed prints in wild colors. It’s changed since she was a child, but Iris likes to think that she’s changed with it, that as this integral part of Central City has grown and added light and color and comfort, so too has Iris.

Today, her plan is to outline at least two entire stories from interviews she’s completed over the last couple of weeks before she even thinks about leaving the coffee shop. She settles into one of her favorite spots, a soft navy armchair behind a small circular table. She sets up her laptop, her notebook with her notes, her pens, and once a waiter drops off her brown sugar latte and a chocolate muffin, she lets the sound of the rain, and the Erykah Badu playing on the speakers, get her into her work.

“Hey, beautiful.”

Iris looks up just as Barry stops beside her. She’s been at Jitters for just over three hours now, and her shoulders are cramped and she’s coffee high and hungry. The rain is still pounding down, so hard that it looks like it’s raining sideways, and Iris curses her inability to get any work done in her own home. Besides all that, she’s reeling. She’s just outlined a story of a man explaining the story of the woman he’d loved his entire life: from growing up together in a small city in North Carolina, to becoming best friends and de facto siblings when his parents died and her dad agreed to foster him; from not dating but seeming like it in high school, to falling for other people in college; from having other spouses and children to one night of passion before they found their way back to each other when she decided to leave her husband after his wife died. It was a ride from start to finish, such a roller coaster of feelings—of love and pain and joy and heartbreak—that make Iris feel a bit heavy with them, a little loopy with them.

Barry stands to the side of her, towering above her, in as simple an outfit as what she’s wearing, a pair of black joggers and a white sweatshirt. She’s startled that he's there because she figures that he should be at work, but her heart does tick up at the sight of him. That is, until she lets her eyes rake over his lean frame. He looks a little...down, like a physical manifestation of the story she’s just outlined. His hair is messier than usual and his eyes aren’t carrying their usual sparkle, in addition to the darkening bags that frame them. He’s also a little stubbly, his jaw covered in a fine layer of coarse hair, his pallor a bit ashen.

(Iris will also admit that she thinks he looks sort of, well, good, like this; but that’s neither here nor there and she feels terrible—and maybe a bit perverted—that she’s lusting after him when he’s obviously going through something.)

“Hey,” she responds softly, and she stands up to assess him further. He seems so much taller than her like this, when they’re both in sneakers. She hasn’t seen him since the morning after Wally’s party a week ago when he dropped her back off at her car after spending the night at her place. They’ve talked a bunch and FaceTimed once, but she’s missed him. She reaches up into his hair, rubbing at his scalp a little until his eyes close and he lets out a soft little moan. She keeps at it and then touches gingerly at his face, at some of the moles dotting his cheeks, at the stubble he’s grown. He reaches up to stop her, eyes still closed, and it startles her a little bit. She goes to pull her hand back, but then he holds on to her wrist to bring her hand down and presses a kiss to her knuckles.

She’s never seen him like this. He’s always so open and, maybe not happy, but never so melancholy. There is always a pep to his step, as her grandma used to say, a smile on his face that always said that he feels some sort of contentment in his life. And obviously, people are allowed to have days like this. But it does something to Iris, to see him this way. She wants to lash out at whoever has made him look like this, like he’s drowning in emotions that he can’t easily pull himself out of.

“Bear, you okay?”

He nods, a little woefully, and he catches her eyes again. She bites at her lip as she stares back at him and, on impulse, she leans up to kiss him. It’s just a little more than a peck, something to tell him that she’s there with him; but he takes it a step further, kissing her harder, biting at her lip enough that there’s more pain than she’s expecting. She moans at him and he pulls back, breathing labored.

“I’m sorry,” he speaks. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s fine,” she says. “You didn’t hurt me. Well, a little, but I didn’t hate it.”

That gets a more real smile out of him, and he thumbs at her bottom lip. “Hmm, I guess my good girl is a little bad.”

Iris rolls her eyes and gives him a look, sobering for a minute. “Bear, what’s up? You okay?”

He doesn’t answer her question. Instead, he nods at her table and asks, “you get a lot of work done?”

She eyes him, wanting to ask again. But she knows how she is when she doesn’t want to talk about something and so she lets it go. For the moment.

“Yeah. Or, at least, I’ve done most of what I set out to do.”

He nods, casts his eyes out of the glass, looking at the rain for a moment, watching it fall in heavy sheets. Normally, Iris likes the rain. It’s soothing and she enjoys how it makes the world take a moment to slow down. When she was a little girl, her grandma (her dad’s mother who grew up somewhere at the bottom of Georgia) used to say that when it was raining, and particularly when it was storming, that the Lord was doing His work and that it was the time to be still. They’d have to sit quietly, usually with the TV and the lights off, and just be. And while life doesn’t allow her to drop everything because it’s started raining, there is always a hushed feeling that comes over her when it rains, something tranquil, but also a little turbulent, a little uncontrollable, quite like the very rain she’s reveling in.

“Wanna come over?” he wonders, voice unsure.

She nods readily. “Okay, yeah. Sure.”

He goes to return her mug and plate while she packs her bag back up. He meets her at the door, opening up a large umbrella and throwing an arm over her shoulder to lead her out into the rain. She walks with him past her own car as he takes her a short black away to where his Jeep is parked. He helps her into the Jeep first, watches as she tucks her bag under the seat, and then closes the door before walking around to the other side.

They ride to his house in silence. He lives far on the south side of town, a good twenty or so minutes from downtown if they hit the highway. Instead, he takes the streets, adding another ten minutes to their drive. Iris doesn’t mind; as she said, she likes the rain, and in this big Jeep, tires sluicing easily through the flooding roads in a way her car definitely can’t, she’s enjoying the ride. He had silently connected her phone to his car’s Bluetooth, so she took it to mean that the music choices were hers. She contemplates finding something that he might like, but she figures he likely wouldn’t even be paying much attention. So she decides on one of her slower playlists, ones with songs that dip and fade, that take listeners on a journey of highs and lows, and she lets it play. The lyrics tell too much, so i guess that i should mention; that i am in no condition; to put you in this position; i might fuck this up, although with the heavy weight on Barry’s shoulders right now, she can’t tell if she’s talking to him or vice versa.

He takes them past one of the major shopping districts in the city, past the Apple store and the Michael Kors shop and the one restaurant her dad took her to when she graduated college where pasta dishes run nearer to forty dollars. These shops, and the nicer mall and a couple business buildings that rise as tall as those downtown, lead into longer stretches of road where trees interspersed with beige or cream apartments begin to take up where businesses once stood. He turns into the familiar subdivision that she remembers; it’s a little older than some, which makes sense if his parents were able to buy and pay it off before they were gone. That also means that none of the houses are the same cookie-cutter versions that tend to make up most subdivisions these days, where houses are identical save for the color and the trim and what children’s toys litter the front yard.

He presses a button on his visor and the garage opens as he maneuvers the car so that he can back up into the driveway. He stays in the driveway, though, the music cutting out—but whatever the case, you're my favorite mistake; more than happy to make you—when he turns the ignition off. She waits for him to come around with his umbrella and he half picks her up to pull her out, holding on to her as he walks her through the garage.

She’s as quiet as he is, taking in her surroundings, trying to get a better sense of who he is by what he’s got going on in his house. There isn’t much in the garage; there are a bunch of boxes neatly stacked on one wall, a couple bicycles in another corner. There is a wall full of tools and a couple tables that have science looking tools on them, like a microscope and several bunsen burners and petri dishes, though nothing looks as if they’re currently being used.

He leads her through a door that opens up into the kitchen as he presses another button to close the garage. His house is as cute on the outside as it is on the inside, although she wonders how he might feel if she were to call it cute. The kitchen is large, done in white, gray, and green, with steel appliances, gray marble countertops, and the look of a place that doesn’t get a lot of use. They both stop to toe their shoes off right outside of the kitchen where a couple other pairs of Barry’s shoes lie. His living room is pretty big: a wide space that features a real stone fireplace as the focal point and a large screen television situated above it; a huge sectional in a slate gray with a few throw pillows; and a big square wooden coffee table. It’s masculine and clean without being gaudy or too bro and Iris wonders if he did this himself because even if she never knew her, she doubts a woman who loved flowers as much as his mother would decorate her living room this way.

The dark curtains on the windows are open wide and Iris can see the backyard but the rain coming down in sheets keep her from being able to make out much besides the patio with what looks like a grill and wicker furniture. Iris remembers being told that his dad had been a doctor and his mom some sort of university researcher and the house matches that.

Barry lets her hand go to tug his sweatshirt off, revealing a plain white t-shirt that rises up over his taut belly. She doesn’t avert her eyes, giving herself permission to track how the sweatpants hang off his slim hips and how he isn’t so much sculpted as he’s hard and tight, with just the beginnings of abs. He catches her staring and he smirks at her before dropping down in the corner of the couch, one leg spread out along the seats of the chair.

“Come here,” he tells her, and she moves toward him, sitting so that her back is pressed against that hard chest and his arms are wrapped around her. She grabs a hold of his forearm with both her hands and settles her head in the crook of his elbow. She’s surrounded by his scent, lemongrass and clean cotton, and for a while, the only sounds are his breathing and the pounding of the rain. He touches her, the hand she’s not holding on to stroking up and down her thigh. Her leggings are pretty thin and she feels his touch fully; if she concentrates enough, she can feel those beloved calluses on his hands. He rubs his hand towards the juncture of her thighs and then over her hip and then back again, and like always, his touch ignites something in her, even as she’s wondering how she might be able to help him out of whatever funk he’s found himself in.

“You ready to tell me what’s up?” she wonders a while later.

“Hmm,” he hums, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Not yet. Tell me about your day.”

She shifts so that she can look back at him, noting the way his eyes have darkened a touch, become grayer like the sky outside, and it’s different from the bright blue-green she remembers from the day of the festival or the wicked blue-gray they always are right before he pushes hard into her.

He blinks down at her and licks his lips slowly. It’s not an explicitly sexual act, even if her body thinks it looks that way, and Iris finds herself lost in it, in whatever he’s emanating. It’s erotic in that it’s intimate, a whirlwind of whatever hurt made him seek her out at Jitters, of whatever still lies unexplored between them, of the attraction that doesn’t ever seem to dissipate.

When she pulls herself out, she tells him, “I was working on a story today. One that made me feel a little bit like how you might be right now.”

“Yeah?”

Wanting to look at him more comfortably, she uses his pause so that she can turn around fully and seat herself on his lap, straddling him. His hands automatically go to her hips, one sliding inside the waist of her leggings so that he can touch her skin.

“Tell me about this story,” he requests. She knows that he’s asking so that he can think about something other than what’s on his mind, so she does, giving a little more than she would originally, working out how she might want to tell the story in her blog.

“It was a couple,” she starts, “that grew up together, in the country. They bonded by playing together in the lake, climbing trees, and playing pranks on each other. And then they start to grow up. Their swimming becomes fraught with tension, the bathing suits showing the same skin, but more, ya know, both of them recognizing the differences, cataloging them, thinking about them, remembering them. They don’t act on it, because they’re friends, and he doesn’t actually understand what it means, that he’s 13 and he keeps dreaming about her at night, waking up with a wet bed and a pounding heart. And then his parents die and her dad, who’s a do-gooder in the community and had been his parents’ best friend, takes him in. Now they’re siblings, but of course not. Regardless, it makes it all harder and odder because she sleeps right down the hall from him, their shared bathroom always smells like her, and he understands now, that he likes her smile and the way she speaks and the curves she seems to develop out of nowhere.”

Barry squeezes at her and she pauses as he asks, “And what about her? How does she feel about him?”

“Well he doesn’t know it, but she’s there too. At first she thinks that she’s just conflating it, confusing their friendship. Because she doesn’t laugh with anyone else like she does with him and she never has as much fun with anyone else as she does him and she never feels as comfortable with anyone else as she does him. He’s her best friend. But she sees him, one night, in his room where the door hasn’t fully closed and he’s, well, he’s masturbating, touching himself, eyes closed and moaning, and for the first time outside of the books she’s read, she feels something. And she knows it’s not just because she’s seen him naked because she’s kissed boys before, she’s felt them hard under her before, but something about this feels different for her.

“But she doesn’t act on it. And he doesn’t either, because remember, he only thinks this is one-sided. They graduate. They go to the same college. But their majors are different and their friends are different. She joins a sorority; he gets into a couple of clubs. Their paths separate, even if they still laugh and talk and be when they’re home for the holidays. Then she gets a boyfriend.”

“She never had a boyfriend before this?” Barry questions.

Iris shrugs. “Sure. But it was high school and the beginning of college. They were mostly hookups that didn’t last. This guy is serious. He’s a couple years older, got his own place, and eventually she moves in with him. Heartbroken, he gets a girlfriend too, one of her friends. That doesn’t last long because she figures out that he’s a little bit in love with the main girl, and then he moves on, to someone sweet, someone who’s been not so subtly hinting that she wants to go out with him.”

Barry seems to be engrossed now. She can’t say that the dark look he was sporting is completely gone, but she can see that he’s not as deep in it, interested in the story she’s weaving.

“They go on to marry these people, even if their hearts are not fully in it. His wife has a kid first, her baby comes next. And meanwhile, they’re still friends. Her dad is still his guardian, so to speak; they are together for whatever holidays they don’t spend with their spouses’ families. They still laugh and talk and be. They still look a little too long and want a little too much.

It comes to a head one Christmas. The gods or fate or just some movement on their parts mean that they both go home to her dad’s house with their spouses and children coming in the next day. But her dad is called in to work so they order take out and watch movies in front of a fire. And they laugh and they talk...and they hug and they kiss and they…

“Be?” Barry tries, a tiny little smile on his face.

She matches it. “Yeah. And it’s beautiful, transcendent. But they’re married. To other people. With kids. So they vow to forget it, to never bring it up again. A couple of years pass. They don’t laugh as much, don’t talk as much. She’s having troubles in her marriage. He is too. He actually consults a divorce attorney because he thinks that it’s unfair to both him and his wife, to live like this. And then the wife dies in a car accident.”

“Oh damn,” he mutters.

“Right,” she agrees. “He’s wracked with grief and more than a little guilt, because he loved her but was never in love with her and she had no idea he was going to leave her.”

“What about her? The one he loves?”

“She’s there for him. She consoles him, cares for him, takes his kid when it gets too hard. Her husband doesn’t like it though. Thinks she’s doing too much, thinks that there’s another reason she’s over at his so much. Later, he learns that this wasn’t a new accusation, that even before she and her husband got married, the husband would question their closeness, would wonder what, if anything, had ever happened between them.

“Eventually she gets tired of it. Her kid is older, in their teens now, and she leaves her husband, packing her things and her kid’s too and moving back in with her dad for a while.”

“And what happens between them?” Barry wants to know.

“He and his son come over more. They hang out more, the four of them, going to dinner and to the movies and to the arcade together. And when their kids are gone, at sleepovers or game nights with their friends, they laugh again, talk again. Fall in love again.”

The ending is implied. Iris closes her eyes when she’s done, letting Barry continue to rub at her back, his fingers so so warm on her skin.

“It's a happy ending,” he says, eventually. “But getting there was a little...depressing.”

Iris chuckles softly, lightheaded again at having gone through that again. It likely didn’t make Barry feel any better, but she’ll take the win that it took his mind away from his own problems, if only for a little while.

“Yeah, it is,” she agrees. “But it reminds me that just because it’s not easy and just because it takes some time, it doesn’t mean that things aren’t worth it.”

He nods, slowly, thinking.

“What about things that are...easy? That come like breathing? That start as a simple dance and just, just keep going?”

She stares down at him and she knows that this is rhetorical. She can see the question in the depths of his eyes, feel it in his hands still kneading her flesh. It would be easy to retreat, to tell him that nothing is ever easy, even if the reality is that it is because they are, because they fall into each other so effortlessly, that she’s terrified. There are always hiccups, obstacles, and the fact that she can’t find any keeps her on edge, waiting, anticipating trouble she knows must be coming. She doesn’t want to believe it, wants to stand firm in them—stand firm in the lyrics she keeps hearing, if you decide to stay, know that there is no escape; there's no one here to save you—and she holds onto that as he asks,

“Don’t you think it’s worth it, Iris? Even if it’s this easy?”

She can’t speak, but his eyes are imploring her to answer. Pleading with her for a response. And however terrified Iris is, or however much Iris tells stories, she is not a liar. So she nods and whispers to him, “yes.”

Without waiting for her to say anything more, he kisses her. He squeezes at her waist and leans up to capture her mouth. She meets him with his same fervor and it’s different, this kiss. She knows the passion of his mouth when he’s high, the boldness when he’s teasing her. But this is new, this is fervor, warmth and agony and doubt and pleasure, all wrapped up together.

(Something also tells Iris that there is another word for this, that this is the part of the story where feelings would be laid on the table, where hearts would be splayed open and she’d say it, or he would, and the other would respond in kind, with declarations of adoration, of infatuation, yearning, of any other word that means what she can’t say yet.

But she feels it, what she’s wanting to say, what she thinks he is saying, in this kiss. It is slow and nasty, all tongue and mouth. Her eyes flutter closed at the feeling, at how he licks into her mouth and then sucks on her bottom lip, at how he licks against her tongue and then holds her face to bring her closer to him. She feels it, she feels it, she feels him…)

He stands, holding on to her, and she wraps her legs around his waist, tightening her arms around his neck as he carries her through the house. The kisses don’t stop, though they become shorter, more mouth now, and he takes her down a long hallway past several doors until he turns into one at the end of the hall. She makes a quick note of the light gray and burnt orange decor, the side tables holding books and knickknacks, the one window that spans nearly the entire wall, but she focuses most heavily on the king-sized bed on which he throws on her, the soft comforter half hanging off the bed.

Her clothes come off first, Barry pulling her sweatshirt over her head and yanking her pants over her hips. He comes out of his own clothes as she discards her underwear, and then he’s between her thighs again. But she wants something else first so she taps his shoulder to flip them and then she’s hovering above him.

She gives him a kiss, slow and sweet, and then she makes her way down his chest, kissing as she goes. She loves the feel of his skin against her lips, likes how his skin tastes as she presses tongue kisses on him. His belly clenches and unclenches under her ministrations, and by the time she’s looking back up at him from her position near his crotch, she can see the way his chest rises and falls with his heavy breathing.

She reaches for him, wrapping her fingers around his dick. It’s long like the rest of him, and thicker than she would have expected just looking at him. It’s a pretty dick, the base the same color as him, the head slightly pinker. It’s a little veiny, but the skin is smooth, and already he’s starting to leak. She lifts her eyes to find him watching her, his own gaze hooded. In her peripheral, she sees his hands grip the bed sheets and she revels in how she hasn’t even done anything and his control is starting to slip.

“Tell me what you want, Bear.”

She says the words softly, but Barry doesn’t miss the cheek that lies under it, if the slight smirk he gives her is any indication.

“Your mouth,” he says. “I’ve been dreaming about that pretty mouth wrapped around my dick.”

She shudders at the tone of his voice, at the vision of her on her knees for him. She likes it.

“I bet you have too,” he guesses.

Without a response, she licks him, holding him at the base and running her tongue up one side of him. She does it again, and then one more time, acquainting herself with the taste of him and the satiny feel of him on her tongue, and then she adjusts and covers the whole of him.

“Fuck,” he breathes out.

She hums around him and she sucks him down, taking him until he hits her throat. Then she pulls back until just the tip remains. She licks around his head and sucks him there, letting the spit pool in her mouth, letting it mix with his own wet. She opens her mouth and lets it slide out, dripping down onto him, and her own body starts to drip at his wrecked whisper, “god, baby, look at you.”

She adds her hands, palming his testicles in one and rubbing her spit down the length of him with the other. She finds a rhythm, sucking him down, inch by inch, hollowing her cheeks as she goes, and then stroking his back up. Barry keeps his hand clenched in the sheets, but he cants himself into her mouth, rocking his hips lightly. She’s getting into it, loving the way he responds to her.

“Come here,” he says, suddenly, reaching for her, and she pulls back with a soft pop.

“Barry?” she furrows her eyebrows in question.

He gives her a gentle smile and grabs at her arm; Iris moves at his request, crawling up his body.

“But you didn’t finish,” she says, pouting a little.

“I know. I want to come when I’m inside you.”

She’s mollified by that, and he settles her on his lap.

“You were so good though, baby,” he says, kissing her. “My good, good girl.”

He reaches down to touch her, slipping his fingers easily into her sex. He groans into her mouth at the feel and he pulls back to ask,

“Is this all for me? Did you get wet sucking me off, good girl?”

She nods, rocking her hips against his hand, against his sex still hard beneath her. “Can, can you…?”

He tilts his head at her, fingers still caressing inside of her. “Can I?”

She huffs out a small laugh because he’s always fucking with her. “You said you wanted to come inside of me,” she reminds him.

“I did, didn’t?” He takes his time removing his fingers, eyes on her as he does. Even with the window curtains wide open, the dark sky has the room dark

(and she doesn’t dismiss the fact that the window faces the side of someone else’s house, where they could be seen if the neighbors were so inclined to watch)

and his eyes look a little like molten lead in the faint rainy light like this. He goes to reach over to his bedside table but Iris stops him.

“I want to feel you,” she says.

He licks his lips and she doesn’t mistake the twitch of his dick she feels under her. “You sure?”

“Yes. I’m on birth control. And I trust you.”

He nods once and again, and then he takes her by her hips and slides her down his cock.

After, Iris decides that this time is the single most erotic experience of her life.

They fuck with the rain like a soundtrack behind them, like a song that swells and stretches, telling their story, but you're so brave; stone cold crazy for loving me; yeah, I'm amazed; i hope you make it out alive, a song that rises and rises, that sounds too good to be real, that might destroy you, but only in the best way.

She rides him, and he’s so full in her like this, so deep in her like this. His back is against his fabric headboard and she’s so close to him, her knees jutting into the headboard, her thighs holding around his hips, her breasts rubbing against his chest, nipples pebbling with each brush on those hard planes.

She holds on to him with her hands holding the back of his neck, softly scratching at the nape. But he’s touching her, always touching her, his hands caressing her spine, and then holding her waist, and then squeezing her hips. He guides her: keeps his favorite pace, smooth and languid; bring her up to the tip and fucks her back down; shows her how he wants her to roll her body when he’s full in her, so her clit is brushing the soft hairs on his pelvis, the sensation incredible.

He uses his mouth too: to kiss her throat, deep tongue kisses that’ll leave marks she knows she’ll have to cover up; to whisper against her mouth, “see how easy this is; see how good, baby; fuck, see how good this is; yes, yes, yes, my good girl.”

And Iris feels so caught up in it. She can’t stop looking at him, loving when the lightning slashes across the room and illuminates those eyes, the constellation of moles on his skin, his wet, pink mouth. Her body hums with pleasure, soaking her thighs and his, tightening around his dick as if it never, never wants to let him go. She voices her satisfaction, in soft sighs and heavy pleas, and his name on her tongue like a chant, or better, a song, “Bear, Bear, Barrryyy.” They’re so close, her skin sticking to his wherever they’re touching, chest to chest and ass to thigh. She feels full and whole and filled...with him and with desire and with, and with love, the thought of it making her shudder and close her eyes.

“No,” Barry whispers. “Don’t. Just let it, just let it...stay here with me. Can you do that for me? Be brave for me?”

She nods, head heavy as her body starts to reach its climax, as her body loosens at the same time that it tightens and she has to fight to hold on to him. “Yes,” she moans again, holding his gaze again.

He touches at her face, holding her cheek and staring back. “Good girl.”

She doesn’t know whose climax triggers the other. She just knows that at the same time that her body explodes, fluttering wildly around him, he comes too, so hard that she feels him throbbing against her walls, that she feels him filling her up with his cum.

He doesn’t let go of her right away. He just holds her, hands at her hip and her face, and then he kisses her, cementing what they’ve just done, cementing what Iris feels for him.

“It’s the anniversary of my mom’s death,” he says, out of the blue. “And when I went to visit my dad earlier, I found out that he’s sick, something with his heart, and I’m-I’m reeling.”

It’s been a long while since they separated and Iris climbed off of him to pad into his bathroom and warm a hand towel under warm water to clean them both. They’ve been lying in his bed, only half under the covers as they let their bodies cool. It’s quiet now, so quiet that Iris has thought he’d fallen asleep; she’d almost fallen asleep. But when he speaks, she blinks wide and then turns her head to face him.

“14 years today,” he adds. He’s looking up at the ceiling as he talks, but Iris feels the hand that’s settled at her waist tighten, the move bringing her closer to him. She understands that he just needs the contact, so she turns so that she’s all the way curled on him, one of her legs thrown across him, her arm tossed over him too, hand settled on his heart. It’s beating slow, steady, and so she strokes his bare chest, right it.

“How’d you find out?”

“I was still at school,” he tells her. “It was a Friday and some of my friends had convinced me to go to a football game, so we were there pretty late. Games could run until 11. I was 17 so I had my own car. It was an old car; we’d bought it from a guy she worked with. By this time, my dad had been gone for a couple years, and my mom was always working late at the lab, so when I got home around 10:30 that night and the lights were out, I wasn’t surprised.”

He shifts a little and continues. “I took a shower, put some leftover pizza in the microwave, and just as I was sitting down to eat, the doorbell rang. It was the police looking for her next of kin to tell them what had happened.” He sighs heavily. “I got lucky. The courts let one of my friend’s parents take me in until I graduated a few months later. I was able to get a work study job in college to pay my bills since the mortgage was already paid off.”

He says it all like he was lucky, but there is nothing lucky about losing both of your parents in that matter, even if one of them was still physically alive. Iris knows from experience that he doesn’t want pity, doesn’t want anyone to feel sorry for his story. But she can’t help the way she wants to comfort him, and so she lets herself do that, tightening herself around him, snuggling even more into his chest.

“How are you feeling about your dad?” she asks, mumbling against his skin.

“Devastated. He looked like, like, I don’t know, like he’s giving up. I don’t get to go see him too often, every couple of months, really. And he looked so different from when I saw him last: smaller, frailer. I think there might be something he’s not telling me. Like he’s been sick longer than he says he has.”

“Is he supposed to get out soon?”

“Another couple years. But I don’t know if he wants to hold on that long.”

She feels them first, the tears. She tries to hold him even tighter, tries to crawl into his skin almost, trying to stem his pain. He doesn’t cry for long, just a few sobs, and then he’s inhaling deeply and wiping at his eyes. But it must be enough because he sounds a little hollow when he says,

“And truthfully, I’m not so much sad as I am mad, that he seems to be giving up. On getting out. On me.”

She hums, not dismissively, but because she understands. “Wanna know a secret?”

“Yeah.”

“Sometimes, I hate my mom.”

He sort of jerks up at that. Not fully, he looks down at her, eyes widened in shock. However inappropriate it might be, she finds herself laughing a little at his expression. Then she explains.

“I know that addiction is not a moral failing. I know that she struggled right up til the end. I know both of those things as completely as I know anything else. But sometimes I wonder why my dad wasn’t enough, why me and Wally weren't enough. I wonder what she was trying to find in those pills that she couldn’t find in us, and I get so pissed that she let it take her away from us.”

She’s startled when he moves. He pulls himself from under her, letting her fall onto her back, and then he’s hovering above her, holding himself up on his elbows. He falls into the spread of her thighs, his sex nuzzling comfortably against her still warm center.

“I’ve seen some of the worst effects of addiction,” he says, “when their bodies end up on a slab of metal and it’s my job to dissect the things around them, to even sometimes help detectives dissect their lives to figure out what happened. And something I’ve learned is that it’s always, always about them. Never about the people they love.”

He searches her face, brushing a piece of hair back from her forehead. “And whatever your mom was or wasn’t thinking, you are enough. You are more than enough, Iris.” He leans down and gives her a kiss, deep and dirty, and she moans in frustration as he pulls back from her. He gives her a grin, one more reminiscent of the Barry she’s used to.

“Repeat after me,” he commands. “I, Iris West…”

“Really, Barry?”

“Yes, come on. I, Iris West…

She sighs, but says it. “I, Iris West…”

“Am more than enough.”

She licks her lips then, blinks, works to not let the tears that have suddenly gathered in the corner of her eyes escape.

“Am more than enough,” she whispers, finally.

Barry’s smile turns fond. “Good girl.”

She shakes her head because she doesn’t know what else to do besides kiss him. Which she does, deeply, reaching down to grip him in her palm. She pauses, just for a moment, to tell him “you know that you are enough too, right?” and she kisses the look of awe off of his face. It’s a long while before she stops kissing him, and then it’s only to moan into his mouth, to let him whisper his dirty somethings into her ear.

“What are your plans for tonight?”

They’ve just shared a shower. Barry is throwing on another pair of sweats and a hoodie and Iris puts her own leggings back on, sans underwear, and thumbs through Barry’s closet for another sweatshirt to put on.

(There’s no reason that she can’t put hers back on, but she’s feeling particularly sentimental and she wants to take something of Barry’s with her, something that smells like him, that feels like him.)

“None, really.” She pulls out a red sweater that reads Central City University Track & Field and throws it on over her bra. “Why? You kicking me out.”

Barry rolls his eyes. “Of course not.” He glances down at the watch on his wrist. “Wanna get dinner? And then go with me to my tattoo appointment? It’s at 8 tonight.”

She smiles at that. “Sure.”

They take the highway back downtown. The rain is still beating steadily and there is still the occasional rumble of thunder, the sporadic flash of lightning. He parks a bit further in the arts district, in front of a restaurant specializing in wood-fire pizzas and craft beers. This time, she knows to wait for him to come around and open the door for her so that she can walk under his umbrella. Once he locks his jeep, he grabs her hand, and they walk the couple doors down and into the restaurant.

The place is brightly lit, in direct contrast to the dark sky and even the faint light that had been on at Barry’s place. The weather assures that it isn’t densely packed, just a couple booths of families and what looks like a couple, so they’re seated quickly and easily. They eat fast since they’ve only got an hour before his appointment. In the meantime, they both keep the conversation light. It’s been a day, for the both of them really, and Iris doesn’t think that she can cry twice in a day.

After he pays, she goes to the bathroom and he tells her he’ll wait at the door for her. She goes in and it’s as brightly lit as the rest of the place and she quickly does her business and washes her hands before heading back out to where he knows Barry is waiting in the little space between the outer door and the door to the restaurant.

She walks through the place and out of the restaurant door, likely too quickly and without really looking. She takes several steps, straightening out Barry’s sweatshirt again, and then she’s bumping into what feels like a solid wall, almost falling backward. A quick hand reaches out to catch her, the hand large, easily wrapping around her forearm.

“Shit,” she says, shaking her head to clear it as she looks up. “I’m sorr..Scott?”

He doesn’t move back right away and so she has to look up, up at the man holding on to her. Scott Evans is the literal definition of tall, dark, and handsome. He’d been her editor when she’d work at CCPN right out of college, and she’d had the biggest crush on him. Tall with dark caramel skin and a neatly trimmed beard, he’d been the one to help guide her in the ways of mass story-telling. They’d gone on one date and Iris is not actually sure why they’d never gone on another.

“Iris West.” He says her name slowly, his grin widening at the same pace. He gives her a once-over, slow and heated. “How’ve you been?”

“R-really good,” she says, stumbling a little at that grin. Even if she doesn’t actually regret never seeing him again, Iris can admit that a man this good looking makes her a little tongue-tied.

“Yeah? I’ve been catching your blog when I can. It’s some good shit, West. I can see why you left our little paper.”

“Please,” Iris rolls her eyes with a little laugh. “There’s nothing little about Picture News.”

He shrugs, humble all the way. “Still, I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Scott. I appreciate that.”

“It’s the truth.” He looks down at her, swiping at his lips with his tongue, and she suddenly realizes that they’re still too close. She steps back fully from him, glancing over Scott’s shoulders to see Barry watching them, his expression unreadable.

“Um,” she speaks, catching his attention. “I gotta go Scott.”

“Oh yeah; of course. We should get together soon. Maybe do dinner.” Scott looks back out of the window where rain steadily pours. “It’s still raining out. Can I walk you to your car?”

Her eyes don’t leave Barry’s and he tilts his head, waiting for her answer. “Scott, I’m not alone.”

He turns as if he’s just realizing that Barry is standing there. Barry is still quiet and only lifts his eyes to look at Scott when he mutters, “oh, hey man.”

Barry nods. “What’s up?” Then he looks at Iris. “You ready?”

“Yeah, I am.” Her voice is soft, cautious, and she throws one more glance at Scott. “It was good to see you.”

He graces her with that smile again. “Yeah. I’ll see you around.”

Barry takes her hand and they walk back to the truck. They’re on the road again, driving to a neighborhood near her own. For a second, she thinks he’s going to take her home, but he passes the road to her apartment and goes on to a neighborhood featuring several bars and little shops that cater to the college crowd. He pulls into the parking lot of a place called Black Gold, the lights inside near as bright as those in the pizza place.

Again, she waits until he comes around and turns as if to get out. He stops her though, holding the umbrella high, standing in front of her open legs. He does his thing, his stare like he's trying, and succeeding, to get inside her mind.

“That your ex-boyfriend?” he wonders.

She shakes her head. “Ex-boss.”

His expression doesn’t change. “All your bosses look at you like that?”

She swallows at the sudden feel of his hand on her thigh. The rain is pounding and drops fall on them, but she’s not noticing it. Instead, she’s caught in the storm that’s returned to his eyes, in the feel of his hands inching steadily toward her center.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” she says, instead of responding to him.

One corner of his mouth lifts, and the confident, bordering on cocky, Barry is looking at her now, even if that sparkle hasn’t returned quite yet.

“Nah,” he says. “Not jealous. You’re here right now. And you were with me earlier, moaning for me, coming for me.”

He slides his hand between her thighs and because she is, almost literally, always thirsty for him, wet for him, her legs spread easily. He fingers at the crotch of her leggings, and she knows that he can feel her warmth through the thin material. He thumbs at her until she gasps against him, finding her clit in a way that reminds him that he knows her body better than she knows it herself.

“He ever touch you like this?” Barry asks, voice a whisper above the rain. “Make you whimper even without getting your clothes off?”

She is whimpering, as he keeps his thumb on her clit, rubbing on her in slow circles. That’s all he’s doing: touching her with one hand, looking at her with those eyes that tell as much as they conceal, with his voice a deep rumble that rivals the thunder. He might be turned on, but he’s proving a point, naming himself as someone who, well, who owns her, even if she recognizes that no man should claim any power over her.

Heat spreads through her, a low, simmering sort of heat, but it’s enough that her folds grow slicker, start opening like the flowers of a petal waiting to be plucked. He keeps rubbing at her, staying on her clit, staring in her face, so much that she can’t hold his gaze. Because it feels better than it should, and her wet is soaking through these too thin leggings, and her breaths are coming in longer, coming in heavier.

“Tell me he hasn’t, Iris,” he says, commands, and Iris throws her head back, legs widening at their own volition, hips canting against his hand. “Tell me.”

“No,” she moans, eyes fluttering closed. “He never even touched me at all.”

“Tell me it’s just me,” he adds and she’s too far gone to note the pleading in his voice. “Tell me no one has ever touched you like this.”

“No,” she shakes her head. “Just you, Barry, shit, just you.”

“Good,” he groans. “Good, good girl.”

Even if touch is the word he’s using, Iris understands that it’s more. She understands that they’re both wrapped up in uncertainty, never too sure of where they lie in others’ affections, never too sure of where they lie in life at all. She understands that he’s asking her if she feels it too, if she’s there with him, if this too easy, this too natural, feeling is a first for her too.

He’s asking if she’s brave enough to tell him the truth, if she undertands is meaning-understands that I'm no walk in the park; all these scars on my heart; it’s so dark here-even as she’s wondering the same, as she’s feeling the same, wondering if the churning feelings of abandonment make her unworthy somehow. Wondering if he’ll come to see that unworthiness.

Barry leans forward, just a touch away from her mouth, eyes blazing.

“There’s only you too, Iris,” he says, unprompted. “I swear I’ve just been waiting for you.”

He closes the distance to kiss her and that’s enough to take her over. It’s not a powerful orgasm, not like usual, but it does make her shut her eyes tight, make her limbs seize up as she rocks her hips through it. She breathes out, and she can’t stop the little laugh that comes out.

“You really are a dick,” she muses, opening her eyes slowly.

“A polite one, though,” he says, as he stands straighter and holds his hand out to help her down from the car. He holds the umbrella high over her. “See how I’m making sure you don’t get wet.”

“You didn't think of that earlier.”

His grin is devastating but it doesn’t hide the plethora of emotions in his eyes: the simmering lust, the faint traces of insecurity, the grief that’s been hovering all day...the love she doesn’t think he wants to hide anymore.

She hikes up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek, and then she walks beside him into the parlor, words flashing in her head like a sign, but if you’re a warrior, there’s nothing to fear; nothing to fear.

And later that night, as she cuddles up next to Barry is his large comfortable bed, she listens to his soft breathing, the sound a melody to the rain still pattering against his windows. She listens and she stares at him, taking in his features, softer than they were before, the stress of today easing away with every second he’s lost to sleep. A flash of lightning lights the room, and it catches her eyes again, the new tattoo, the purple ink bright on his skin, covering the space from a lily on his shoulder to just over his heart. It goes dark again, his room blanketed once more, but in her mind’s eyes, she can still see the vibrant ink on his skin, the pretty drooping petals of an iris.

Cause you're so brave

Stone cold crazy for loving me

Yeah, I'm amazed

I hope you make it out alive

#westallen fanfiction #westallen #barry x iris #iris west #strangers to lovers

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psychovigilantewrites · 4 years

Text

Don’t Call Me That Pt. 2

Wordcount: 10,129

A/N: I thought this part 2 would total up to 10k words, but when it hit 10k, I realised that I was only about 65 percent done. So based on the responses I got from tumblr, I decided to publish this first and then conclude the story later on!

TW: mentions of r*pe, mentions of torture, mentions of drugging someone (??) , mental breakdowns, vulnerability, descriptions of anxiety

Also, HERE’S MY FAV MEMES!! I’m so sorry that I can’t tag respective meme creators, because I saved them on my phone and some of them I forgot to include your usernames!! I’M SO SORRY!!! And honest to god is wear there were more but i must have lost them im so sorry im so incompetent lmao

memeesss

You glanced at your phone.

It had already been a week in Hawaii with your friends, and Jason still hadn’t texted you.

Well, you should have expected it, really. Jason was a traumatised, mentally ill man who had been locked away for two years.

Of course he wouldn’t text you first.

You had contemplated texting him over the past few days, typing in an array of messages ranging from a simple “hey” to a whole paragraph, and deleting all of it without hitting send. Did he even switch the phone on? Was he surfing the internet? Or was the phone still there on the shelf where you had left it.

It was driving you crazy.

“Do you have a boyfriend we don’t know about?” a voice called.

You looked up and squinted at the man who was standing up, looking down at you. You were sitting on the beach, a little further away from the ocean where your friends were.

“What are you talking about?” you asked as Alex plopped down next to you.

“You’ve been fidgety the whole time,” he pointed out, combing back his dark shoulder length hair with his fingers, getting sand in them. “We’re on a private beach, and you’ve been fussing over your phone. Who are you talking to?”

“No one,” you grumbled truthfully.

“The girls have been gossiping,” he gestured to the two other girls playing in the water. Your closest friends. It was four of you in that inseparable group.

“Of course they have,” you groaned, “Tell them to SAY IT TO MY FACE, COWARDS!”

You shouted at them, earning you grins and middle fingers from the distance.

“They’re saying you’re in love with someone,” he chuckled, “But they always say stupid shit like that without any evidence. But sometimes, a girl’s intuition is just right, ya know?”

“Stop beating around the bush, Alex,” you rolled your eyes at him despite knowing he couldn’t see past your sunglasses. “No, I’m not in love. I’m just waiting for a text that might never come.”

“Why don’t you text him first?”

“Because it’s not as simple as that!” you flailed your arms, “He’s… complicated. I can’t just text him anything.”

“Girl, unless he’s Mr. Nottingham, or related to you, then it really isn’t that complicated,” he joked.

“Ugh,” you groaned again, falling back onto the cloth you spread out. “Fine. I’ll text him.”

“Atta girl,” Alex grinned, “I’m gonna head back in the water. Join us after. Please?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved.

Opening the text window for what had to be the thirtieth time, you finally decided to text him.

You: Miss me yet?

Staring intently at the small ‘sent’ below your message bubble, you waited for it to turn to ‘delivered’.

“Yes!” you hissed. It meant that Jason had indeed switched on the phone.

But after twenty minutes you realised that it didn’t matter if Jason switched on the phone if he didn’t want to talk to you. Cursing to yourself, you decided to join your friends in the water, hoping it’ll distract you from checking your phone every five minutes for a text message that might never come.

After an hour of actually spending time with your friends, all four of you returned to the villa, your mood elevated. Checking your phone, you could have jumped for joy when you saw not one, but four consecutive texts in a row.

Jason: Duck off. Jason: What the duck Jason: WHY CANT I SAY DUCK Jason: I DUCKING HATE THIS

You couldn’t let out a string of giggles.

“Oooh, lover boy texted you back, huh?” Alex peeked over your shoulder. “Gimme, I wanna mess with him.”

He snatched your phone from your hands, surprisingly swift and smooth for a civilian, raising it way above his head so you couldn’t reach it and opened the camera.

“Alex-!”

He threw his other arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his bare chest, crushing you before you could tackle him down. He snapped a picture and sent it.

You froze in horror.

“Why the hell did you do that?!” you yelled.

“Relax, I was just messing around,” he gave your phone back to you.

“You don’t- you don’t understand, you fucking asshole!” you screamed.

“I- I’m sorry,” Alex stuttered, surprised by your reaction. “I was just-”

“Fuck off!” you snapped.

Panicking, you saw the little notification below the picture turning from Received to Read.

No. No, no, no, no.

This was bad.

You didn’t want to overwhelm Jason by sending him photos of your activities, thinking that he might react badly to the sudden surplus of familiarity and sense of being close to someone. Now you were worried that he might start to push you away in fear, reverting back to how he was before, and months of progress would have been all for nothing.

He would probably start swearing at you, or worse- switch off the phone and reject any form of communication completely. You hurriedly texted a reply.

You: I’m so sorry! I didn’t send that, my friend was just messing around.

Expecting the worst, you braced yourself for the inevitable. Instead, he sent you:

Jason: Who the hell is that guy?? Jason: Why are you in your underwear??

Your mouth hung open as you stared in shock at the screen. Because you took so long to recover from the shock, he sent you another message.

Jason: ???

Snapping out of it, you texted back.

You: That’s just my friend. Sorry about that! And I’m not in my underwear, it’s a bikini! I’m in Hawaii.

You waited for him to reply, but ten minutes of you sitting anxiously on the turquoise sofa in the middle of the villa listening to the waves of the beach outside from the open doors passed by, and he still hadn’t.

Perhaps he’s busy- wait. There’s no way Jason would be busy. You tried to coax him into a conversation.

You: You can turn off your autocorrect if you want to swear without hassle. Go to your Keyboard settings.

You plopped your phone on the empty seat next to you and dried your hair.

“Ugh, come on!” complained Natalie, fully clothed and washed, walking towards the open concept kitchen from her room. “You’re getting sand everywhere!”

“Woops, my bad,” you grinned.

“There’s a shower outside on the porch for a reason you know,” she flipped her blond beach waves at you, looking through the fridge.

Alex stood quietly at the kitchen island, now scared to say anything.

You rolled your eyes. “Just don’t do it again.”

“Okay, I promise!” he grinned.

Ding.

Jason: fuck. fuck. fucking fuck. Jason: found it. You: Proud of you, man.

You went to your room and showered, then dried off and put on fresh clothes while waiting for Jason to reply.

Of course, he never did.

Groaning, you had to remind yourself that he was not used to human interaction, and texting would come unnaturally to him. Which meant that you had to be the one to keep the conversation going.

You: Do anything interesting since I left?

You saw him typing almost immediately this time.

Jason: no.

Of course not.

You: Have you been eating properly? Jason: yeah.

God, it was so difficult. You were in the middle of typing something when he replied again.

Jason: yoire not my mom Jason: yoire Jason: YOIRE Jason: FUCK WHY CANR I TYPE

You felt guilty for laughing, but you did anyway.

You: Now that you switched off autocorrect, it won’t correct your typos and misspells anymore. Jason: i fucking knw that. Ive been gone for two yeard not twenty. You: Then why do you sound like a grandpa? Jason: BECAISE YOU GAVE ME A FUCKINF IPHONE!! I USED AN ANDROID!!

Now you were really laughing out loud, so you sent him a GIF of a woman rolling her eyes.

Jason: wtf you can send gifs throug text now?? You: Welcome to 2020, my dude. Jason: im not your fucking dude

Typing a reply, Jason interrupted you once again.

Jason: teach me how to do that

Smiling widely, you found that you couldn’t wait for the next week to pass by so you could go back and see him.

***

“How’s Jason?” you asked the minute you reached the Cave computers, panting from the run down.

“Wow, hello to you, too,” Dick chuckled, spinning towards you on the wheeled chair.

It was a Sunday afternoon, and Bruce and Dick were in front of the computers, discussing a case that had connections to Bludhaven Police Department.

Gone for two weeks, you had a lot to catch up on.

“According to Alfred, he’s doing well,” Bruce answered, “Even started to ask for seconds last week. Now Alfred has been making portions for two.”

“He asked? For seconds?” you gasped. “How?”

“He left a note on the tray two days after you left. He’s been making meal requests, too. Texts Alfred in the morning to let him know.”

“Texted?!”

“Alfred slipped his number on the tray in case Jason wanted anything specific.”

“I slipped mine as well, but he hasn’t texted me yet,” Dick pouted.

“When did he start texting?” you ignored Dick.

“Last Sunday.”

So the same day you started texting him, then.

“He hasn’t texted me,” Dick sighed, looking dejected like a kid who was told Disneyland blew up.

“He’ll come around, Dick,” you offered him a smile, “I mean- he’s already texting Alfred!”

“Yeah,” he lamented.

“Okaaay, nice talk. I’m gonna go see him now, bye.”

You ran to the box, but stopped right before you opened the internal door. After checking your hair with your phone camera, you tried to stifle the butterflies in your stomach.

Ugh, you were so fucked.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door.

“Yeah,” Jason’s muffled grunt answered you.

Pushing it open, your eyes immediately went to the bed only to find that he wasn’t lounging around reading a book like you expected. Instead, your mouth dropped open when you saw him on the floor, doing push ups.

Shirtless.

Jason had changed drastically during the two weeks you were gone. You noticed that he had definitely gained weight, as well as muscle mass.

“Uh, wh-what are you..?”

He stood up, and you swore your heart skipped a beat.

His muscles were much more prominent and defined now, and he looked like he was going to achieve Dick’s physique if he kept it up for another month or two.

“Welcome back,” he simply said before taking gulps from a water bottle you definitely had not seen before.

“Thanks,” you walked over and sat on his bed, “I’m glad to see that you decided to start taking care of yourself again.”

“What, this? This isn’t for me.”

“Huh?” you cocked your head in curiosity.

“I… I lost a lot of muscle mass. My body- it isn’t how it used to be,” he frowned, “And I can’t have you lusting over it when it’s not at its peak.”

“What- what do you-?” you stammered, suddenly getting hot.

Jason merely smirked and then continued his push ups.

You watched as his developing muscles rippled, a thin layer of sweat making his skin glisten in the light. It was amazing how he had progressed so much in such a short period of time. You guessed that he must have just been occupying his days by working out.

No wonder he’s been asking for seconds.

“Enjoying the view?” Jason breathed, pausing with his arms straightened, his head angled upwards towards you.

“No, shut up,” you looked away.

“Here, be useful,” he started, “Sit on my back.”

“What?”

“I’ve gotten used to my own body weight, I need extra resistance,” he elaborated, “Come on, sit on my back.”

“But it’s all sweaty,” you whined, pretending to protest. Definitely pretending- for the sake of your own dignity.

You got up and went over towards him anyway.

Carefully, awkwardly, you sat on his back as you would a park bench. You rested your palms flat against his sticky skin to stabilise yourself. Suddenly, he dipped down without warning, earning a soft squeal from you.

“Fuck, you’re heavy,” he strained, but continued to do the push ups. He was shakier, struggling with the weight, and after twenty-five, he paused. “Okay, I think I’m done.”

But before you had the chance to get off him, he suddenly stood up, throwing you off his back to have you fall on the floor on your ass.

“Jason, you assho-” you clapped your hand over your mouth, realising what you had just said.

Oh, no. Oh, fuck.

He stood towering over you, his jaw clenching as he stared you down with his cold, blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry! I forgot! It was a reflex and-”

“Whatever. I don’t care anymore,” he rolled his eyes, reaching for his bottle.

You blinked. Then scrambled to your feet.

“You don’t care anymore?” you repeated slowly.

“I don’t care if you call me that,” he huffed.

That made your heart swell and melt at the same time.

“I got used to your voice,” he mumbled, expression changing as he looked away. He frowned, as if he was angrily staring at a distant object.

You had just guessed that he didn’t like to be called his name because of a sense of familiarity, but now you were thinking that there was much more to that than what you had originally thought.

“So, I can call you… Jason?” you tested.

“Yeah, call me whatever you want,” he sat on his bed, looking up at you.

You smiled, thankful that you had finally crossed that bridge. “You know, I could get some workout stuff for you? Weights, bands, that bar thing that you can put at your door frame for pull ups…”

“You’d like to see that, huh?” he smirked.

“You flatter yourself too much,” you scoffed.

“How was Hawaii?” he changed the subject all of a sudden.

“It was fun. Beach was great, locals were great, loved the vibe- what are you doing?”

Jason had stood back up and started to walk closer and closer to you, getting all up in your space like a predator finally cornering its prey. You kept on taking steps back until your ass hit the edge of the desk.

Nowhere else to run, your heart started hammering. He leaned in, his hands resting on the desk on either side of your body, trapping you against the table and himself. You looked up and gulped. You could almost feel the heat radiating from his bare skin.

“Are you afraid of me?” he muttered lowly.

“Why would I be afraid of you?” you whispered.

“You tell me,” he said.

“Well, I’m not afraid of you,” you stated.

“Oh really?” he raised an eyebrow. Then, you felt his hand grip your wrist tightly, pressing down on your skin with his fingers. “Your pulse is very fast for someone who’s not afraid of me.”

“It’s because you’re all up in my space!” you argued.

“Didn’t look like you mind when your friend,” he snarled the word, “was all up in your space.”

“My friend? What- oh,” you widen your eyes in realisation, “You mean Alex.”

“Is that his name?”

“Alex is just a friend, nothing more. He’s just someone I’m close to,” you reassured him.

Which then made you think about why you were reassuring him.

“Oh, you were definitely close to him,” Jason growled.

“Wait- are you… jealous?” a smile creeped your lips.

He scowled at you for a few moments, and you could see the little tics in his expression that said he was annoyed. The flared nostrils, the muscles of his jaw clenching and unclenching, the very slight twitches at the corner of his left eye.

“No,” he finally said, taking a step back from you. “I’m going to shower. Since you couldn’t stop staring at me, the invitation is still open for you to join.”

“You know, I’m starting to think that maybe I prefer it when you were broody instead of this. Please go back to your depressive mental state,” you sarcastically replied.

Jason barked out an actual laugh. Though his laugh was odd, like someone who’s only now discovering that humans were indeed capable of laughter, you found comfort in it. It was no longer hysterical and devoid of humor. He was getting better, learning to embrace a connection with someone, and it made you extremely happy.

“Maybe I should,” he answered with a cheeky glint in his eye, “Then that way you can give me more sponge baths.”

He left you alone in his room, flushed and at a loss for words.

***

“I find it very odd that people would yell ‘Batman!’ when they realise you’re there,” you rambled while climbing out of the Batmobile.

You were absolutely drenched from the downpour that had been going on all night. It was 4 am on a friday night and you had just returned from patrol.

Bruce took off his cowl immediately, revealing tired eyes despite the relatively slow night.

“It’s like they’re saying ‘Look at me! I’m here! Please knock me out or hang me upside down from the-’ Bruce?”

Bruce had stiffen, staring at something behind you. You turned around and was shocked to see Jason in the mid-distance, sitting on the ground outside the black box that was his room, leaning against the cool metal.

He himself was staring intently at Bruce, not even sparing you a glance.

You looked back and forth between the two men, sensing a high tension silent conversation.

Then, Bruce’s eyes relaxed and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly in that hardly-there-Bruce-smile.

He gave Jason one stiff nod of understanding, then walked away to the computers at the other end of the cave, leaving you alone with his son.

Jason relaxed as you walked over to him, wringing your hair to squeeze out all the excess water.

“Aw, you waited up for me,” you teased, standing in front of him with your hands on your hips, grinning away.

“Fuck off,” he snorted, “I was bored.”

You noticed him clenching his jaw as he looked at you from top to bottom, eyes lingering longer on the ‘R’ on your left breast.

Ah, it was his first time seeing you in your uniform.

His uniform.

Suddenly, you felt like an imposter in those colors and had the strong urge to rip the uniform off.

You wanted to say something, but Jason beat you to it.

“There were times in that shit hole where I wanted to burn that uniform off my skin,” he grit, “Kept on thinking to myself. I wish I never became Robin. I wish I never met Bruce Wayne.”

Your heart shattered at his confession. It was extremely rare for him to bring up anything related to his two year torture, and the previous times were never in such detail.

Realising you needed to say something, you opened your mouth. “I’m so-”

“Don’t,” he cut you off, “You don’t have to say anything.”

Yes, sometimes you knew that he just wanted you to listen.

You nodded silently and went to sit next to him on the floor.

“It… suits you,” he forced out.

“Hmm?”

“The uniform. It suits you. More than it ever suited me,” he grumbled.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think your ass would look quite nice in green,” you joked, nudging his shoulder with your own.

He chuckled deeply, nudging you back even harder- hard enough for you to lose your balance and topple sideways, earning another breathy laugh from Jason.

***

Another month passed by, and you found yourself falling deeply for Jason- much to your dismay. You knew Jason wasn’t ready for any kind of intense emotions, and that it would take a very long time before he was.

So you swallowed your emotions down, stifling them and hoping it would go away.

The two of you had developed a pleasant friendship, often bickering and joking around, with Jason teasing you about your obvious physical attraction to him.

He also now occasionally waited outside his cube for you to come back after patrol, never really venturing too far from it, and still avoiding contact with both Bruce and Dick. Only you and Alfred had the privilege to speak to him.

Even then, sometimes you would visit his room but only getting a “I’m not feeling it today. Please leave.”

Understandingly, you would nod silently and leave him alone. You knew he still had his bad days, sometimes not eating his meals.

But mostly, he was getting better, both mentally and physically.

With nothing much to do the whole day, Jason was now obsessed with working out and bulking up. He now had a few simple equipment in his room- mostly weights.

You figured that it was a coping mechanism for him, a healthy outlet to channel all his rage and negative emotions into.

But come on. He was getting even hotter and it was making it extremely difficult for you to stop yourself from checking him out, fantasizing about him when he wasn’t around. Still, you couldn’t complain. Even though he hadn’t reached Dick’s size yet, he was very near to it, and his naturally bigger body frame and build made up for the still developing muscles.

Hell, he was now sporting a six pack.

But you knew that he was still not as well as you hoped he would be. The bloodshot eyes he had was proof that he doesn’t sleep well- and you soon found out why.

It was a little past midnight on your night off from patrol, and you were using your break in the best way you could think of- by sleeping. Something woke you up that night.

A soft knock on your door.

You frowned, eyes still closed, wondering who it was.

Bruce would usually knock twice. Strong, clear, and with purpose. Dick would start pounding rapidly on your door, annoying you intentionally. Alfred would give three soft knocks followed by a ‘Miss?’

Your eyes flew open. There was only one other person in the manor.

Throwing your covers aside, you jumped out of bed and rushed to the door to open it.

Jason stood outside your door in the dim lights of the hallway, frowning and running his fingers nervously through his messy dark hair. He was wearing a t-shirt with boxers, standing awkwardly.

“Jason?” you hated how your voice sounded so sleepy. You cleared your throat. “Are you okay? Would you like to come in?”

He nodded silently, and you made way for him to enter before closing the door behind you.

“Sit on the bed,” you told him while jumping back into yours, sitting up cross legged.

The bed dipped when he sat on it, copying your motion and crossed his legs.

You waited for him to say something, your eyes straining to catch his in the dark. But he just remained silent, staring into space and avoiding your eyes.

“How did you know this was my room?” you asked, starting with a light topic.

“Only one that was locked. I already know where everyone else sleeps,” he explained.

“That’s right,” you realised, “I tend to forget that you’re probably even more familiar with the manor than I am.”

“Did you know there’s an old dumbwaiter in Bruce’s room?” you saw him smirk from the shadows that was casted on his face, “I used to hide in there, waiting to catch him off guard.”

“What? Why?”

“Dick and I, we had a bet,” he recalled the memory, “Whoever gets to surprise Bruce first would owe the other a special favor. Only rule was that we had to have it on video as proof.”

You appreciated that moment, the first time he ever spoke about both Dick and Bruce as a fond memory.

“I won, by the way,” he continued, “But- I forgot to press record on my phone.”

“Oh, no,” you groaned for him.

“Yeah, and Dick refused to believe me,” he chuckled, “That old man didn’t want to admit it either. But I swear- the look on his face when I jumped out while he and some model were going at it- priceless.”

Your jaw dropped, and then you burst into a fit of laughter, tears filling your eyes.

“You- you- you jumped out on him while he was having sex?!” you squealed.

“Yeah,” he grinned, “I didn’t even care that it sort of scarred me, because I managed to catch Batman off guard.”

The both of you laughed, his deep voice mingling with your own on that quiet night.

“I’m glad you’re here, Jason,” you smiled warmly at him.

But then, his smile fell.

“I hate my name now.”

“I’m sorry,” you began, “You said it was okay to call you that, so I-”

“No, it’s fine,” he started running his fingers through his hair again, “It’s just- I don’t know.”

“You can tell me anything,” you reassured, “It won’t leave this room. I promise.”

He looked at you, worry in his eyes. “Okay. Fine. Yeah.”

You waited for him to begin.

He took a deep breath. “I’ve been having nightmares. Almost every night. It’s always the same one.”

“You want to tell me about it?” you prompted him after waiting for him to continue.

“I hate my name because he said it a lot. Joker,” he scowled, “After repeatedly burning my skin for my name, it’s like that’s all he said. In that annoying, high pitched, sing-song voice of his. Jason, Jason, Jason. It made me hate my name. It made me hate hearing it.”

“I- I didn’t know how much time passed when I was in there,” he continued, “But, fuck. It was- it was hell. And the worst part was that I kept on waiting for Bruce. Waiting and hoping for him to find me and save me. I was so desperate. You- I-”

He choked on his words. His eyes were squeezed shut and his lips tight.

You wanted to reach out to him, hug him, tell him that everything was okay now. But you didn’t. You waited for him to collect himself so he could finish telling you his story, just like how he wanted to.

“Anyway, I- despite all that,” he sighed, “That was the only thing that kept me sane. I kept on clinging onto the hope that he was out there, searching. And that helped for a while. Until- until that happened.”

He was breathing heavily now, fidgeting more. Jason was definitely getting increasingly agitated the deeper he went.

“Fuck,” he breathed, “Fuck.”

The moment you realised he was crying was when he let out a sniffle. You automatically took his hand in yours, squeezing it as a form of comfort.

“It’s okay,” you told him, “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.”

“No,” he shook his head, “I need to. I have to. I can’t take this anymore. Keeping everything in, I feel like I’m about to fucking explode.”

“Okay, then take it slow,” you said, “No rush. Anytime you’re ready.”

He nodded, eyes still closed, as if he was afraid of letting you see him cry.

“One night,” he began, “I think- I don’t know what was different- but I think something went wrong for him. Or right? That’s how it was. Tormenting me was fun, but it was also an outlet for him. But at the same time when he was happy, he also tortured me. He came to me, and- injected me with some sort of drug. That never happened before. He made sure that my head was clear whenever he hurt me so that I could feel everything he did.”

“But- he did- and- immediately, I felt weak,” he continued, “I mean, I was already weak. But my head. It was cloudy. I remember everything clearly, but it was like my brain couldn’t process it, couldn’t communicate with my body. I felt like I was looking out through a window that was my eyes- like I was in someone else’s body, experiencing someone else’s moments.”

“He released me,” Jason’s voice was now barely a whisper. “He released me from the ropes, and I fell to the floor. And then he- he- fuck.”

He let go of your hand and started pulling at his hair, rocking back and forth on your bed. He was sobbing now, his shoulders jerking up in sharp intakes of breaths. The only thing you could do was to stay silent and hold back your own tears.

You rested your hand on his knee, giving him a textile connection with reality so he doesn’t fall into his own thoughts.

“You- he- he- ruh- ruhp-”

Your heart sank to your stomach in horror as you realised what Jason was trying to say. It was as if you were plunged into icy water, chills running down your spine at the true revelation of what he had gone through in that cursed cell.

“Oh, no,” you breathed.

“He pushed me down,” he choked, “Pushed me down and climbed on top. I- I couldn’t even fight him. I was- I was conscious the whole time and I knew what was happening, but I couldn’t fucking do anything.”

Your tears were falling down now, both at the sight of Jason looking so vulnerable and fragile, and at his confession. Not being able to help yourself, you threw your arms over his neck and crashed into his hard body, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

His arms immediately wrapped around you, clutching you so hard it was painful as he buried his own face into your shoulder.

“And he kept on saying my name,” he said in muffled cries, “Jason, Jason, Jason. The whole fucking time. And- and I knew. He didn’t do it for pleasure. He did it to torment me. He- he didn’t even- he didn’t even finish.”

Jason sobbed into your skin for the next few minutes, his tears soaking through your night shirt. “But I did. Even though it was painful. Fuck, the pain was worse than anything he had ever done to me before. But- he- I- I fucking came.”

The both of you were sobbing now, his ragged breaths mingling together with your own on that quiet night.

His grip on you was tight, as if he thought that if he let go, you would disappear. So he clung onto you with all his might to keep you there with him as he recalled the horrific events.

“That's what broke me. I was so disgusted with myself. I hated myself. And he- he saw everything and- and laughed. He laughed so hard, I thought he was going to choke and die. I’ve never seen him laugh like that. And I remember every single fucking moment of being helpless on that fucking floor while he- fuck. Fuck.”

“And then he left. He left me on the floor bleeding and I never saw him again. And I went fucking insane. I tried to kill myself so many fucking times. So many times, I lost count. That’s what I dream about every night. His laughs, and his ‘Jason, Jason, Jason’.”

And that was that. That was the story.

The end of Jason Todd.

The both of you cried long and hard that night in each other’s arms. Eventually, you both lied down on the pillows together, underneath the covers.

“Please don’t tell Bruce,” he whispered to you.

Your head was on his chest, his big arms wrapped around your waist, your legs tangled with his.

You smiled at that. Even with the trauma, even with the sense of abandonment he felt, he still wanted to protect Bruce from knowing the truth.

Because the both of you knew that the truth would kill him.

“I promise,” you whispered back.

And then the both of you fell asleep together.

***

“Has Jason been sleeping in your room with you?” Bruce asked you on one fine Saturday morning at breakfast.

It had been about a week and a half since the first time Jason knocked on your door and poured out his feelings to you.

“He gets nightmares,” you tried to explain.

He thought that if he told you everything, the nightmares would stop. But it didn’t. But he then realised that the only thing that made it better was sleeping by your side, having someone there to wake him up from living his own hell in a loop.

“And do the two of you… Just sleep?” Bruce frowned.

“Yes!” you widen your eyes in horror at the insinuation. “Bruce! Come on!”

“I know you have feelings for him, and I’m sure he does for you as well. But I don’t think something like that is what Jason needs right now,” he stated.

“Yes, I know!” you groaned at the thought having that kind of conversation with him, “Jesus, Bruce. I know. I’m just there to wake him up or help him fall back asleep. Nothing more.”

Bruce nodded, deep in thought. “Has he… told you? About what happened?”

You pursed your lips. “Yes.”

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” his frown went deeper. “I understand. He will tell me when he is ready.”

“Exactly,” you smiled, hiding the fact that Jason may never tell Bruce what happened. Never the full story.

“He still hasn’t left the manor?”

“No,” you sighed, “I asked him if he wanted some fresh air. Just outside the main door, not even going down the steps. But he refused. Told me to, and I quote, ‘Fuck off’.”

“Well, he’s only just left the cave, and it’s just to your room,” Bruce thought out loud, “It’s still progress. Especially since he’s been talking to you about the past.”

“He only spoke about it one time,” you said, “And then never again.”

“I see,” he hummed, “And you’re okay with him sleeping with you?”

“Next to me, Bruce, sleeping next to me,” you corrected.

“Yes, and you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah, it’s all good,” you assured him, “I can kick him out any time I want- but I don’t want to. He looks like a lost puppy sometimes.”

“An angry lost puppy.”

You chuckled at that and couldn’t agree more.

*** While Jason got the sleep he needed when he was next to you, it was counterproductive on your end. You had never been with anyone before, and definitely had not slept on the same bed with another man.

So to feel his body heat and breaths against your skin, his occasional light snores, it made your mind go on hyperdrive.

Most of the time, the two of you would just lie down, your back against his front, or your backs against each other, or both on your backs just staring at the ceiling- and talked. You would be the one talking the most, of course, about anything you could think of. You would tell him about your day, your patrols, something you read about online, or the current news.

But that one particular night during week three of him sleeping next to you, the two of you were silent. It wasn’t an awkward or uncomfortable silence, but the kind of silence that was pleasant and was better described as a peaceful quiet.

You had your back pressed against his front and his arm was lazily draped over your waist. It was a cold night, and you were wearing just a tank top and pyjama shorts, snuggling under the covers that went up all the way to your nose.

Shifting a bit while snuggling comfortably, you pressed yourself against Jason’s body to get more of his heat. But then, you were met with something poking against your lower back.

“Ngh, please ignore that,” Jason huffed.

Oh.

For some reason, you forgot that Jason was a physically healthy male who was capable of having sexual thoughts and feelings. All this while, you thought you were the only one.

“Are you- uh- is that- uh-” you stuttered, feeling your face flush with heat.

Feeling your body suddenly alert with excitement.

“Yes, it’s my fucking penis,” he grit almost angrily, “What, never heard of an erection before?”

“Of course I have!” you argued rather defensively, “It’s just- I’m surprised, that’s all.”

“Why?” he demanded, “You didn’t think I could get it up or something?”

“No, of course not!” you denied, “It just didn’t cross my mind, that’s all.”

A pause. Then-

“Well,” he sighed, “You wouldn’t have been wrong.”

Your mind blanked for a second.

“What do you mean?” you asked softly.

“It’s my- fuck- it’s my first time,” he confessed.

“Your first time getting an erection?” you gasped.

“No, you idiot,” he snapped, “It’s my first time getting hard since… since… then.”

Oh. Oh, you were an idiot.

“It’s just- after that- even when I was downstairs, alone and safe, I- I couldn’t,” he told you, “I kept on thinking back to that time and- and I couldn’t. I found it disgusting.”

And immediately, like someone doused you in cold water, any feeling of horniness you had when you first felt his erection against you disappeared. You just felt so sad for him, but also angry. Angry that he had to go through all of that, and angrier that there was nothing you could do about it.

“So, why do you think you’re getting it now?” you asked. Perhaps talking about it in an objective manner would help guide him through his thought process.

“Are you kidding me?” he scoffed, “You’re fucking pressing your ass against my dick, what did you think would happen?”

“Wait, what?” your eyes widen, “You’re hard because of me?”

“No shit,” he said, “You’re hardly wearing any clothes, too.”

You shouldn’t feel happy due to the circumstance and context, but there you were ecstatic that he found you attractive enough to pop a boner after so long.

“Fuck,” he sighed, suddenly pressing himself closer to you.

His hand that draped over your waist when to actually grip it. Then, then, he grinded his hard on against your ass.

“Mmm,” he rumbled deeply, “Feels good.”

There. That was it. You were once again flooded with the feeling of heat that pooled at your stomach, a tingling sensation started at your core. Feeling hot despite the low temperature of the night, you clenched your thighs together, needing the slight pressure.

“Yeah?” you whispered.

“Yeah,” he grinded on you again, and then unexpectedly let out a chuckle.

“What is it?” you smiled, loving it whenever you heard him laugh.

“I thought… For the longest time, I thought I was broken. That he broke me,” he revealed, “I thought I needed to get all Wingardium Leviosa on this little fucker.”

“Oh my God,” you laughed and groaned at the same time, “You’re so fucking embarassing.”

He laughed along with you and continued. “But now I’m hard and- and horny. You made me feel like I’m normal again. Like I’m sixteen again, and getting horny over everything.”

Sometimes, we take the normal things for granted. Food, shelter, clothes. In this case, it was a goddamned boner. In a way, Jason’s erection was symbolic- however funny it sounded. Getting your sexual appetite and need back after being so traumatised was a massive leap for many people who had experienced the same thing.

It meant that Jason was healing well.

“Does that make you happy?” you asked.

“Not particularly,” he admitted, “But I’m definitely not sad either.”

“That’s good enough for now, then,” you beamed.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

Another few moments of silence. You could feel it, his cock pushing into you. However tempted you were to push back and grind, you held yourself still.

“Uh, Jason?” you voiced.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to like, take care of it?” you asked, “I mean. My bathroom is available. Or- there are many empty rooms.”

“No,” he simply stated.

“No?”

“No.”

“It’s kinda poking into me.”

“Just ignore it.”

“Ignore it?” you gaped, “How can I ignore it? You’re literally pressing it into my ass.”

“Well, then do you want to take care of it?” he teased.

You couldn’t argue back. “Fine, I’ll ignore it.”

He chuckled. “I’ll turn around.”

When he made the movement, you suddenly grabbed him by the wrist. “No, it’s fine. Stay here.”

You expected him to tease you like he usually would, make a crass comment, or even a ‘fuck off’.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around you again in silence, and the both of you drifted to sleep.

***

“Do you think this color suits me?” Natalie asked, holding up a floral red dress.

The four of you were at the mall in Diamond District. Now that high school was over, and everyone would be going off to separate colleges in a few months, you tried to spend time with each other as much as you could.

“Any color suits you, Nat,” you rolled your eyes, “You’re hot stuff.”

“Jesus, it’s like you’re shoving it in our faces at this point,” Sarah added, flipping her brunette hair to the side, tight curls flowing down.

“Aw, you guys,” Nat pretended to tear up, “I’m gonna miss you guys so much!”

“Not again,” Alex groaned, “We’ve been through this so many times.”

“I’m gonna be so miserable without you guys,” Natalie continued on, ignoring Alex’s interruption.

“I don’t know,” Sarah shrugged, “I think I’d enjoy New York. I can have pizza parties with the rats in my overpriced apartment.”

You chuckled at Sarah’s joke. Everyone was leaving Gotham except you. Deciding to continue with Robin, you opted for Gotham University- prestigious, old, and most importantly, close to home.

Your phone dinged in your pocket. You opened it to find texts from Dick.

Dick: OH MY GOD. Dick: I’m at the Manor. Dick: Was going to the Cave gym to work out. Dick: AND Dick: JASON IS HERE!!! WHAT DO I DO?!?!

That was new. Jason would usually just use whatever basic equipment he had in his room to work out. The fact that he was at the Cave’s sparring area where all the other fancier work out equipment were was out of the ordinary.

You: Just go. See if he reacts. If he suddenly stiffens and just stay there not doing anything, then leave. If he continues on, then it’s okay to stay- but don’t initiate anything! Dick: OKOKOK

You waited anxiously for Dick’s update. All four of you were now walking towards the food court, but you hardly listened to their bickering. Forty-five minutes passed before Dick texted you again.

Dick: OMG HE TALKED TO ME You: What did he say? Dick: He asked me to pass him his towel. You: That’s all he said? Dick: IT’S PROGRESS OKAY!!

Dick was right. It meant that Dick was now the third person Jason had spoken to. Adding another person to his list of contacts was definitely progress.

You were happy for him.

You:Is he still there? Dick: Nah he left Dick: But WOW he’s looking good. He must have been really going at it. I think he might get bigger than me soon You: All he does now is work out. He’s obsessed. Dick: Yeah I can tell

You decided to leave it at that for now and try to concentrate on your friends, but Dick sent another message.

Dick: ARE YOU TWO HAVING SEX?!?!

You spat out your drink, earning weird looks from everyone.

You: DICK!!!! WTF NO!!

Dick never replied.

***

“Can I ask you for a favor?” Jason asked, his voice breaking the silence of your dark room. The two of you were on your bed, lying down and staring at the ceiling.

“Of course,” you said. It didn’t matter to you what Jason asks for. He hardly ever asked for anything.

“Could you… Take me out tomorrow?” he requested, “If you’re not doing anything else, that is.”

“Uh, sure!” you nodded, surprised. “Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere,” he shrugged, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, okay,” you hesitated, “But- are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to go so far so quickly. Maybe you should start with just going to the backyard?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” he insisted. “I’m not a kid.”

“Okay then,” you agreed. “Tomorrow.”

You kept on glancing anxiously at him the next day as he climbed into the passenger seat of your car. He was quiet, but looked perfectly fine.

Switching the engine on, you drove out of the garage and out the large automatic gates. Trees soon surrounded the lonely road on both sides as you descended downhill into town.

“So where are we going?” he asked.

“I thought Robinson Park would be nice,” you said. It was around three in the afternoon, yet Gotham was dark as though the day was ending. It was cloudy, skies grey and wind blowing.

“You’re taking me to a park?” he scoffed.

“It’s more quiet than anywhere else,” you reasoned with him, “Less people. Spacious. Lots of greenery.”

“Whatever.”

Reaching the parking space of the park, you noticed that there were a few cars. Mothers and nannies liked to bring children out to the park around that time. Joggers and teens, college students and retired elderly seeking a little escape from the high rise buildings of concrete and glass.

You turned the engine off and proceeded to open the door, only then noticing Jason stiffening. Looking over to him, you saw that his eyebrows were pulled down in a deep frown, his jaw clenched, his hands in fists on his knees.

You didn’t say anything or make any comment. Leaning back into your seat, you waited until Jason was ready.

About five minutes passed before he took a deep breath, gave you a nod, and then opened his door.

The two of you walked along a path at the park, going deeper inside and further away from your car. There were a few joggers around, some tourists, and some teens taking photos. You saw a group of kids in the distance playing frisbee, and the others were walking their dogs.

An empty bench stood in the middle of the park, overlooking a clearing. You headed there, Jason following closely behind.

“It’s a bit gloomy today,” you pouted, “As if Gotham could be anything other than that, of course.”

You looked at Jason.

He looked like a scared dog being brought out for the first time.

His jittery knees were bouncing rapidly, his wide eyes were darting at every movement, his forehead was covered with a thin layer of sweat, and his breathing was heavy.

“Woah, woah,” you reached out to him, putting an arm on his back. “It’s okay. I’m here. Just listen to me talk, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he gulped.

“Try to calm your breathing,” you instructed, “Deep breaths, Jason. In… out… In… Out… Yeah, see that’s great.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, now calmer. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled warmly, “You’re doing just fine.”

“No, I’m not,” he strained, “I feel like everything is too big. Too vast. The fucking sky looks like it’s going to crash down on me and at the same time suck me up into a void.”

“And despite all you’re feeling right now, you’re not breaking down or anything, are you?” you tried, “You’re okay, Jason. This is progress.”

“I guess,” he sighed, “I’m just- I’m so used to having four walls and a ceiling. Now everything feels too big.”

“I understand,” you empathized, “Whenever you want to go back, just say the word. Or we can even just go and sit in the car. No problem.”

“Yeah, okay, let’s do that,” he stood up.

The walk back to the car was faster.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking pathetic,” he said, running his fingers through his hair.

“No, you’re not,” you reassured him, “That was great, Jason. Come on, it was your first time outside in two years and a half. Cut yourself some slack.”

“I’m so fucking broken,” he choked.

“Don’t say that,” you scolded, “You’re not broken. And you know what, even if you think you are, we can always fix it. Baby steps. Maybe we can do this once a week. We were out for like, ten minutes? Next week we’ll try fifteen. How’s that sound?”

“Twice a week,” he stated, “I just want to be normal again.”

“Okay, twice a week, then,” you agreed, “We’ll try again in a couple of days, okay?”

“Okay,” he paused, “Thank you.”

“No problemo,” you grinned, “Would you like to stay here a bit longer or shall we go back?”

“Let’s go back.”

“Wanna stop by the diner? You can wait in the car while I ask for a take-away?”

“...okay.”

***

Jason and you had gone out twice more. Once three days after the first time, and the other a week later. The second time he went out, he lasted twenty minutes, though you were sure he was being stubborn on his part. He looked like he was having a heart attack, but he insisted on staying until he hit the twenty minute mark.

The third time, he was much much better. Surprisingly so. The two of you sat down on that bench for half an hour, with you even leaving him alone for a few minutes to get two ice cream cones.

After that, you took him for a drive around the city. He seemed to be more comfortable in the car, so you went all the way from Robinson Park to Diamond District, and back to the manor.

Bruce seemed very pleased with your update, and you swore you could see him actually smile.

“Thank you,” he had told you. “You’ve done more than I could have ever asked of you.”

“It’s no problem, Bruce. Really,” you reassured him.

“I’m his father. He is my responsibility. It’s my fault he’s even in that state. I wish I could do more for him,” he said solemnly.

“The fact that you understand what he needs is more than helpful, Bruce,” you smiled, “Not many parents can do that. You understand and respect him. That’s enough for now.”

He simply nodded.

Ever since your scheduled outings, Jason had become more and more relaxed whenever he was in the manor. He now walked to the kitchen on occasion to mess with Alfred while he cooked meals for him, sometimes sitting in the living room lounging on the couch while reading. Most of the time, though, he was down at the sparring zone of the Cave, working out.

But at night, he would never fail to knock on your door.

And at that particular night, you found yourself in the same situation again while lying down on your side with your back to his front, for the fifth time.

“You officially have to stop calling yourself broken,” you grumbled, “Because that thing poking into my ass is definitely not broken.”

He chuckled lowly. “You complaining, sweetheart?”

Oh, and yes. Jason now had started calling you ‘sweetheart’. Why? You had no clue. It was just a thing that happened. The look on your face when he first slipped it in was probably a sight to behold.

“No shit, I’m complaining, Jason,” you groaned, “You haven’t jerked off, yet? Not even once?”

“Nope,” he popped the P, “I just… I don’t want to… I don’t want to come.”

You sighed, understanding the situation. He had been disgusted with himself because he had ejaculated when Joker… Well, that. You hated to even think about it, so you always shoved the thought away.

“But unfortunately for me, I still get super horny,” he rumbled deeply, pushing his hips into you even more, “So fucking horny.”

“And then I have to suffer,” you complained.

“I can assure you, blue balls are more painful than something poking into you,” he bickered.

“It’s not that…”

“Then?”

“I get horny too, come on man,” you whined, “I’m a hormonal teenage girl. What did you expect?”

“You get horny too?” he whispered after a pause.

“Uh, yeah,” you admitted nervously. Somehow, the mood shifted, and your heart started drumming against your chest.

“Because of me?” he asked.

“Not you specifically, I mean,” you tried to back track, “You’re… Your dick pressing up against me like that, I mean, come on, Jason.”

“Simple question sweetheart,” he told you, “You get horny because of me, yes or no?”

You gulped. “Yes.”

Fuck, why did you say yes? You could have lied. You could have not answered.

“Yeah?” he breathed. You noticed that his hand was now on your hip, right above the waistband of your sleeping shorts, drawing circles onto your skin with his thumb.

You were nervous. The butterflies in your tummy was not helping you calm down.

“Yeah,” you squeezed your eyes shut, as if to protect yourself from anything he had to say.

“Fuck,” he groaned, gripping your hips and grinding his hard on against your ass even more. And did it… Fuck, did it get even harder?

Afraid of saying the wrong thing, and also out of nervousness, you remained silent. Jason’s chest rose and fall against your back, his respiratory rate increasing. His pinky finger slid underneath the waistband, testing the waters before slowly slipping his hand into your pants.

He went in so slowly, as if waiting for you to tell him no, to rip his hand away, to wrench yourself away from him. But you never did, so he went in deeper, caressing the skin beneath your pelvic bone, his heat just burning into you.

“You’re not wearing any underwear,” he commented, voice suddenly husky.

“I don’t wear them to bed,” you informed him.

“You mean to tell me,” he growled, “That all this while I’ve been sleeping next to you and you never had your panties on?”

“It’s more comfortable that way,” you mumbled.

“Jesus Christ,” he cursed. “Thank God I never knew. Would have been torture, and trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”

“Jason,” you gasped.

“It’s true,” he said, “Damn, sweetheart.”

He went lower, closer to your center.

Your core was tingly, small pulses of electricity buzzed through your body as Jason came closer and closer and closer and-

He slipped his hands between your closed thighs and cupped you.

“Mmm,” he moaned softly, “Warm. Fuzzy.”

“Fuzzy?” you laughed, even though you felt like screaming on the inside. Screaming for more.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, burying his face into your nape, taking a deep breath. “You smell nice.”

Oh, shit. You totally forgot about Jason’s aversion to strong smells.

“I’m sorry!” you quickly apologised, “I can switch to an unscented shampoo as well so it wouldn’t be too strong for you.”

“It’s fine,” he said, “I like it on you.”

He ground his hand into your center harder.

“Mmpf, Jay,” you breathed, “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “I’ve never touched a girl like this before.”

“Really?” you widen your eyes in surprise.

“I was kept in a cell for two years, I couldn’t exactly talk, let alone touch, anyone can I?” he quipped.

“Right.”

“Teach me,” he said.

“What?” you whispered despite knowing what he meant.

A pause of silence. A deep intake of breath, a slow exhale.

“Teach me how to touch you,” he purred.

Fuck, you felt like exploding.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Yes. If you… If you want to.”

Your mind quickly tried to analyse the situation. Bruce had specifically said that Jason didn’t need any complicated matters in the relationship. It made sense. You didn’t want to overwhelm Jason with any confusion or uncertainty.

But at the same time, you’ve been figuring out how Jason thought, bit by bit. He’s told you many times that he just wanted to be normal again, to feel normal, to do normal things. And this was something that was normal, that he should do, that he wanted to do.

And you knew that he probably would take the rejection even worse.

“O-Okay,” you agreed.

Slowly, you separated your thighs, raising the one on top and hooking it over his legs behind you. Due to your shift in position, you felt the minute Jason’s fingers dip slightly into your folds.

“So, uh, this is my first time with a guy as well,” you squeaked, “But I’ll try to guide you.”

You licked your lips.

“Uhm, well, I guess you can start by running a finger up and down between my- oh! Yes, just like that.”

His middle finger slid down to your opening, and then up again slowly. His movements were uncertain, brushing only slightly against your clit unintentionally.

It was different, having someone else touch you. Somehow, despite the inexperience, it just felt better.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped, “You’re so fucking wet. Do you usually get this wet?”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “No? Yes? I don’t know! I can’t feel it.”

“Shit.”

You let him play with you some more, his fingers sliding up and down, sometimes pressing against your fleshy parts, sometimes circling and gathering your wetness, sometimes just parting your lips. Hell, he even tapped the tips of his fingers on you randomly or brushed into your delicate fuzz. You knew he was just exploring, feeling you for the first time.

And that thought made you smile and sigh.

“Teach me how to make you feel good,” he rasped.

“Uh, so your fingers are wet, right?”

“Yeah. Because you’re leaking all over them.”

“Okay, good. Now find my clit. It’s slightly above your finger, okay, to the left a bit. More. Okay, there! Yeah, right there,” you sighed, finally feeling that delicious pressure.

“Here?”

He tapped your clit.

“Ah!” you moaned, “Yes- but don’t just- nevermind, just gently circle it. Clockwise.”

He obeyed, and hell since when did Jason just obey?

He circled you gently, like you said. But he also went so, so slow.

“Faster, Jay,” you panted.

He went faster, making you groan in pleasure.

“Like this, sweetheart?” he muttered, his voice low and cracking, and sexy, and husky. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and it drove you wild.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “Yeah, just like that. Fuck.”

“Feel good?”

“So good, Jay. Press a little harder now- fuck. Fuck. Yes, perfect. Just like that.”

The pressure built as his fingers did their magic.

“You- you’re surprisingly good at that,” you stuttered, “You sure- mmm- you sure you’ve never done this before?”

“Despite what you think,” he husked in your ear, warm breath tickling you. “I’m very good at following instructions.”

“I can see that.”

“But I’m also good at improvising.”

“Wha- oh. Oh. Fuck! Jason! Oh my fucking god!”

He started pressing even harder, and going even faster, throwing away the slow build you were going for and instead pushing you towards orgasm fast and hard, as if he was determined to prove something to you.

“Feel good, sweetheart?” he purred, “You gonna come soon?”

“Oh my- fuck, yes! Fuck, don’t stop!”

“You want to come for me?” his deep voice rumbled.

“Yes!”

What the hell? When did he learn how to talk like that?

Because with the mix of his heavy pants, his low voice coaxing you, his barrage of pleasure at your clit, you felt the familiar tightening of your core. You threw one hand back and found his hair. Running your fingers through them, you gripped them tight and pulled.

You pulled on his hair as he forced the orgasm onto you.

“Oh my God. Jason, I’m gonna- fuck- I’m- fuck- ah!”

You moaned loudly as you felt your walls flutter, clenching over nothing as you reached your high.

“O-okay, stop, fuck,” your hand went from his hair to his wrist, stilling him. He withdrew his hands from your pants, and went to grip you tight again by the waist.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart,” he groaned, grinding into you. You pushed your ass back, feeling his hardened length against your flesh in your post-orgasm bliss. “Jesus, that was so hot.”

“That was- yeah,” you giggled, “Fuck.”

His face was still buried in your neck. You could feel his lips on your skin.

“Uhm, I can, you know,” you sputtered, “Try to help you out?”

“It’s fine,” he breathed, body still tight against yours, “Just go to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” you asked again, feeling guilty that he didn’t get off. “I don’t mind.”

“I do,” he said, “It’s okay, sweetheart. That was great. I enjoyed that. I told you, I don’t want to come.”

“Okay,” you sighed.

“Go to bed.”

“Thank you, Jason.”

“Fuck, I’m so horny.”

“Jason,” you whined, “Really, I can help-”

“I’m kidding,” he chuckled, “Goodnight.”

You pursed your lips.

“Goodnight.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood #robin #jason todd imagine #dont call me that

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wienerbarnes · 3 years

Text

Necessary Evil

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 1,816

Warnings: nothing crazy, typical canon violence type stuff, special character appearance👀

A/N: so sorry for not posting this like two days ago when i said i was going to🥴 ive had a ton going on and ive been a busy bee but hopefully ill get myself organized for next week :) question for yall! should i keep the friday posting schedule or do thursdays instead bc of fatws on fridays? lmk!

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

It’s been a confusing couple of weeks. You’ve been placed on a temporary leave while you finish your recovery after the last mission.

You’ve been trying to learn as much about your new powers as you can, not really understanding what they are or how they work considering that most of the time they’ve shown themselves it’s been accidental.

Making Bucky drop food, slamming doors shut, sending stuff flying across the room. At this point you’ll tape your hands at your sides if it means you’ll stop making such a mess everywhere.

Everything has been put on halt. You don’t cook, in fear of starting a fire or making a mess in your kitchen, you don’t spar with anyone or workout unless it’s in a closed off and sealed training room used for when the Hulk was at the tower, in fear of hurting people around you, and unfortunately, you haven’t let Bucky be around you much in fear of hurting him.

He tells you that you’re not going to hurt him and that even if you did he wouldn’t take it personally, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. The two of you got into a heated argument a few days ago when he offered to let you use him as a practice dummy for your new powers.

“How dare you suggest something like that to me?!”

“Well, I just meant that -”

“Meant what? How would you feel if I asked you to slap me around like a ragdoll with your metal arm? Make you go Winter Soldier on me?”

“That’s not the same thing, and you know it.”

“Isn’t it though?”

It wasn’t pretty.

It also didn’t help that Bucky was sent on a solo mission recently. He couldn’t tell you much about it, and you didn’t push it, knowing the two of you were still a bit rocky with each other, and knowing that it would only put more stress on you constantly thinking about his mission.

Boy, did you miss him though. You’re glad you put aside your pride to hug and kiss him goodbye, taking in his warmth, his love, his smell, savoring his arms around you and his lips on yours before he left. With the way he held and kissed you, you think he felt the same.

That was two days ago. Alpine has been the one to keep you the most company. She’s gotten big, and it’s a lot more fun to play around with her now. You trail a feather attached to the end of a string around the ground while she tries to pounce after it. A knock at the door doesn’t even pull her attention away from the toy as you let her win and catch it, standing up from your sitting position on the floor.

You open it to reveal Sam in more casual clothes than his regular tactical pants and shirt, and you return the smile he gives you.

“You busy?” He asks.

You look over your shoulder to see Alpine still pawing at the feather on the ground.

“No, I’m not busy, what’s up?”

“Just wanted to hang out, we both got the day off, figured I’d show you the best danishes in New York.”

You’re not sure if Bucky put him up to this or if this is a way to keep you from going batshit being stuck in your room not being able to do anything, but you accept the offer anyway. It’ll be nice to get some air.

“Do you, uhm,” You begin, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“What’s up?” Sam asks, the guy from the VA coming out, encouraging you to tell him.

“Do you know if Bucky’s okay? I haven’t heard from him, is all.” You ask, slipping on some shoes and heading back out into the hallway with Sam.

“I mean, I’m sure he’s fine, why wouldn’t he be?”

“Just that I know these solo missions can be anywhere and he could be doing anything, but I still worry. I didn’t know if you knew where he was or anything.”

He doesn’t. He doesn’t know, because Bucky told him Steve asked him for a few favors and he needed some off time for a couple of days. He thought Bucky was in rural New York. There’s no mission. But he supposes he’s not supposed to tell you that.

“Yeah, I don’t know much about it. Fury’s probably the one behind it.” Fury’s in Florida for his niece’s sixth birthday. He doesn’t tell you that either.

Luckily you accept it and enter the elevator to leave the private floor and go to the common area, able to leave out the backway of the tower.

“Avenger in the building, Captain.”

Sam doesn’t understand. Avenger? Who’s even around anymore?

“Uh, huh? Bucky?”

“No, Captain.”

“Clint?”

“No.”

“Who’s here?”

“Underoos.”

Underoos? Where has he heard that? Isn’t that -

The elevator doors open to the common room, a teenage boy stands with his back towards the two of you. His head whips around in typical teenage fashion and your eyebrows shoot up, unaware that the Avengers recruited teenagers.

“Is that a fucking kid?”

“Peter?” Sam asks, clearly surprised at the boy being in front of him. He hasn’t seen him in years. He wasn’t even sure where he was all this time, assuming he was in school, with his Aunt, but now he’s here.

“Sam! And his lady... friend. How are you?!”

“The lady friend has a name.” You chirp.

“What are you doing here?”

You and Sam speak at the same time. Peter addresses you first, “And your name is…?”

“Uh, Agent 51.” You didn’t think that through.

“Weird name, but alright.”

“Peter.” Sam brings his attention back to his question.

“Who is this guy?” You ask, clearly lost on who this person is and how he’s an Avenger.

“This is Spider-Man.” Sam tells you nonchalantly.

“Uh- Sam?!” Peter exclaims.

“What, she works with us, now. She doesn’t have anyone to tell anyway.”

“Sam?!” You elbow him.

“Why are you here, Peter.” Sam asks again.

“Well, you know, I was in school, doing some stuff here and there for Hill and Fury, and I figured I’d stop by.” He smiles.

You and Sam stare in silent confusion.

“Okay, look. I feel… lost. Like I feel like I’ve come to terms with Tony dying and stuff, but, I don’t know...” Peter finally cuts to the point.

You know very little about Spider-Man. You definitely didn’t know he was a kid, but you also didn’t know that he had some sort of a close relationship with Tony Stark. You’re becoming more and more like Bucky everyday; not knowing who any of these people are, not remembering seemingly important events, hell, not even knowing have these things happened because you were under Hydra.

“Peter, we don’t -”

“I’m not asking for help. More so asking if you have anything for me to do, or something.” His smile falls. You’re definitely confused, but you feel for the guy. You remember feeling lost as a teenager, losing the people you looked up to. And that lost feeling landed you in the Marines and the Marines landed you with a terrorist organization. We should help him, you immediately think.

“I’m sorry, man.” Sam offers. He wants to help Peter, as annoying as he finds him. Being a teenager is hard, and being Spider-Man is harder. But, Sam can’t forget that he’s still a kid in school with only his aunt and a few friends around him. He doesn’t want to put a person like that in the immense danger they throw themselves into, even if he knows he can handle it.

“No worries, I’ll be on my way, then.” Peter nervously scratches at his eyebrow.

“Sure you don’t want to stick around here for a bit? I know the Avengers aren’t much of a thing anymore, but, you always got a room here; a place to stay.” Sam tells him, assuming Peter’s on the verge of having a sort of coming-of-age moment.

“No, no, I need to be with May. I’ll see if I can, uh, maybe stop by more often. Maybe. If that’s alright. Nice to meet you, uh, Miss 51!” He bids farewell before walking away awkwardly, leaving Sam with a sort of sullen look on his face and you still very confused.

“What was that whole thing about?” You finally break the silence as you two make your way towards the private garage elevators.

“I’ll tell you over danishes.”

Bucky plants his fist into the HYDRA soldier’s face for the sixth time, the sound of metal hitting flesh making a slushy sound with little clanks, signifying teeth hitting the floor.

“This is the last time I ask you before I kill you. Where is Bychkov, Morozov, and that fuck with metal arms?” He pants beneath the black mask and goggles, an outfit he hadn’t dawned in so long.

Your list is heavy in his pocket, he thinks about the names he’s already crossed off and few he has left. He’s not going to stop until he finds the handlers that captured you and the supposed soldier with metal arms that shot you, details you only mentioned to him once after a nightmare that he refused to ever forget.

“They… went back… to base… in Kiev. Just… north of it.” He struggles out.

One step closer. Bucky stands taller, letting the man slump on the ground, and he reaches for the knife at his thigh.

“Wait! I - I told you… where they went!”

“I was going to kill you whether you told me or not, you Nazi fuck.” Is all he says before he slashes the knife, ending the bastard’s life.

Leaving the man’s home, he rounds a corner into the night and replaces his knife, taking out a pen in one of his many pockets as well as your list.

He crosses off Antonov, looking down at the four remaining names, two of which were the men that did this to you.

He takes a breath, the layers of leather and kevlar straining over his muscles as he sighs. He never thought he’d be hunting people down like this, Nazi or not. He never thought he’d have this black mask and these goggles over his eyes. But he also never thought HYDRA would touch the love of his life the way they did; never thought they’d put you in that chair.

So, now, he’s only getting revenge. It’s the least he can do after this organization has stolen his life, kept him from seeing his family forever, took his arm, gave him PTSD, gave his girlfriend PTSD and injected her with who knows what only to put her in that goddamn chair.

While he never thought he’d be in this position, they asked for it, and he’s not sorry.

On to the next name.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfictions #marvel #bucky barnes series #idk if yall know this but i love spiderman #my fav marvel character #love him more than bucky i just don't read or write for him for some reason idk i just never got into that #and the new spiderman is coming out in december !#i slowly want to incorporate characters into c2c #like i added wanda and plan to write a oneshot or two delving into her and reader meeting and getting to know each other #and then the loki series comes out in june so maybe ill play w that #im just not sure if ill adapt c2c to fatws #depends where it goes and how it ends #we'll see #anyway #yall know u can always send ideas or requests for me to play around with #thanks for reading if you made it this far

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marjansmarwani · 4 years

Text

just say you're hurt, we'll face the worst

Carlos & Owen || Tarlos || 2.9k || ao3

This is a birthday fic for actual ray of sunshine Paige - @sunshinestrand

You’re a lovely human and you deserve the world, but I hope you’ll take this instead. I hope your day is as wonderful as you are my dear 💕

Additional shoutout and thanks to both @officerrxyes and @terramous who helped me fix this when I was stuck for quite a while. I would be lost (and still staring at this fic) without you both!

One last note: if this seems familiar that’s because it was inspired by one of the parts from my tarlos week fic that’s when I knew - I just took one of the vignettes, expanded it, and told it from Carlos’s perspective.

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

In hindsight, maybe he should have called first.

Standing on the front step was probably the wrong time for that realization but here he was: on the front step of the Stand house facing the confused expression of his boyfriend’s father.

“Carlos,” Owen said in surprise as he opened the door, “TK’s not here right now.”

“I know, he had a shift.”

Owen raised an eyebrow at that, but didn’t push. They stood in silence for a few more moments before Carlos elaborated, “I’m here for you, actually.”

This got a look of surprise from the older man, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is fine. I just...wanted to know if you wanted a ride to chemo today?”

It came out rushed and Carlos couldn’t blame Owen for his bewildered look. He rushed on with his explanation: “I know TK has been taking you and he had to work today but I’m off so I figured I would take you—if you wanted.”

“Did TK ask you to do this? Because that’s very sweet of you both, but you don’t need to waste your day off on me, I’ll be fine on my own. Which is exactly what I told my son but he seems to have selective hearing on the matter.”

Carlos shook his head, “No, he didn’t ask me. But I could tell he was worried about it so I figured it would make him feel better if he knew you hadn’t been there alone.”

Owen studied him for a few moments before shrugging, “I’m not opposed to the company, as long as you are sure about wasting your limited free time with an old man.”

Carlos held up his keys, “Great, I’ll drive.”

---------

The ride there was silent. Carlos went to open his mouth a few times, to try and start some sort of conversation, but each time his mind went blank. He was fairly certain Owen was having a similar problem, if the glances he kept shooting Carlos were any indication.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he felt so nervous about this — it wasn’t as if he hadn’t spent time with the Captain before. Nights spent with TK had taught him that both he and Owen were early risers, and sharing a cup of coffee in the morning hours had become a routine for them. Those were largely silent moments though; each man taking the time to savor the coffee and the quiet of the start of the day. In all honesty, Carlos wasn’t sure what to talk to the other man about. As far as he knew they only had one common interest: TK.

Of course, there was a lot to talk about when it came to TK Strand. Carlos could easily rave about him for hours. But while talking about how easily he could drown himself in TK’s eyes, never once even thinking about coming up for air with Michelle was one thing, doing it with TK’s father was something else entirely.

Just the thought of TK’s eyes and the things they made him want to do to him pulled him in and before he knew it he was interrupted from his daydreaming by a voice from his passenger seat: “So…” Owen started, “how are things with TK?”

Carlos cleared his throat awkwardly, prying himself back to reality and turning his face so Owen couldn’t see the blush creeping up his cheek. The man did not need to know the thoughts he had just been having about his son. He kept his tone decidedly nonchalant as he answered with a simple. “Good, things are going good.”

And they were back to square one.

---------

Thankfully, the drive to the treatment center was not a long one.

They parked and Carlos hovered anxiously off to the side as Owen got signed in and followed his lead to the treatment room. He took in the surroundings with interest—he had never seen the inside of a chemo treatment center (thankfully). He couldn’t say it looked anything like what he had pictured. But then again, he wasn’t sure exactly what it was he had expected.

He watched quietly as Owen was set up with the IV and smiled at the nurse as she passed by. Then it was just the two of them and they looked at each other with uncertainty.

“So,” Owen began.

“So.” Carlos agreed. He glanced around the room awkwardly before his gaze settled on the IV in Owen’s arm.

“Does it hurt?” he couldn’t help but ask.

Owen shrugged, “it doesn’t feel great, but it’s really after that you feel it.”

Carlos nodded but Owen kept talking, “Why don’t you tell me more about yourself? I really don’t know all that much about you, Carlos.”

“Oh,” Carlos responded, surprised, “are you sure that’s what you want to talk about?”

Owen shrugged, “Sure. I’d like to know more about the person my son is so smitten with besides,” he paused to lift up the arm with the IV in it, “what else do we have to do right now?”

“What do you want to know?” Carlos asked, unable to keep all the anxiety out of his voice.

“Where did you grow up?”

“Here, or pretty close to here. We lived just outside the city.”

“Are your parents still around?”

“My mom is. My dad passed when I was a teenager.”

“I’m sorry.”

Carlos shrugged, “it’s not that I don’t miss him, but it’s been a while. It’s become normal, something I don’t really think about all that much anymore.”

He paused as he realized the territory they were treading into. Given their current location, it seemed a little bit too much like tempting fate for Carlos’s liking.

Thankfully Owen either agreed or sensed his hesitation because he selected a new topic, “Siblings?”

“Two sisters. They drive me nuts, but I love them.”

Owen chuckled, “older or younger?”

Carlos grimaced, “older, and they never let me forget I’m the youngest.”

Owen laughed outright at this, but his laughter abruptly turned into a groan. Carlos sat up, looking at him anxiously, “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

Owen shook his head, “No, there’s just some...unwanted company headed this way.”

Carlos furrowed his brow as Owen plastered on a smile and raised a hand in greeting. He turned in his seat to see an older man waving back at him, a broad smile on his face.

Carlos gave Owen a skeptical look, “him?”

Owen nodded, “him. He may look harmless, but trust me, you will be praying for the awkward silence once he gets going.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“It can.”

Carlos was not convinced and Owen shook his head, “Fine, don’t believe me but when it gets weird I will throw you under the bus as a distraction without hesitation.”

“I was raised here,” Carlos deadpanned, “they don’t call it southern charm for nothing. I think I can handle some small talk.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

Any response Carlos could have given was interrupted by Owen plastering the smile back on and nodding to the older man who was now approaching them, “Wayne, how’s it going?”

“Still breathing so I guess I can’t complain. How about you? How are things in the fire fighting business.”

“Busy, as usual.”

Wayne, apparently, chuckled but his expression turned curious as he noticed Carlos.

“And who’s this?” he asked as he settled down into the chair beside Owen’s. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.”

“Coach, this is my future son-in-law, Carlos Reyes.”

Carlos could feel the blush creeping up his cheeks and it took considerable effort to keep his voice even as he objected, “Owen we’re not...we haven’t even…”

But the older man waved off his protests, “Please son, don’t even bother. It’s only a matter of time. It doesn’t take an expert to figure out that you’ll be there sooner or later and I do happen to be an expert in my son.”

Carlos was saved from the trouble of trying to form an answer to that by their neighbor clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Well isn’t that something,” he noted mildly. “What do you do Carlos, are you a firefighter like the Strand boys?”

“No sir,” Carlos responded politely, “I’m an officer with the Austin Police department.”

Wayne turned to Owen, eyebrows raised, “A cop and a firefighter? I thought y’all didn’t get along?”

Owen shrugged, “We try not to hold it against him.”

The older man chuckled as he leaned back in his seat, “It’s good to see you with some more company here, regardless. Did you know this damn fool thought he could do this all on his own?”

The last part was directed at Carlos, who looked over at Owen with a raised eyebrow but Wayne barreled on, “he thought he could keep it all hidden, didn’t want to ‘worry anybody’. Complete horse shit, if you ask me.”

“We didn’t,” Carlos thought he heard Owen mutter under his breath but the coach carried on undaunted.

“I told him that was crazy talk, of course. Not even Superman could do this on his own, and you ain’t him, my friend.”

“That hurts, really.”

Wayne scoffed at him and looked about ready to go for round two when Carlos interrupted, “You’re right, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t have a choice anymore — he’s not alone. He has a whole team behind him. Whether he wants it or not,” he added as an afterthought.

Both of the men are looking at him now, with differing expressions. Eventually, Wayne looked back over at Owen, “I like him.”

Owen was studying Carlos, who met his look and refused to drop his gaze, “He has his moments, I guess.”

----------

Things passed roughly in the same for the remainder of the appointment. There was a steady stream of conversation between the three men and as much as Owen may claim to be annoyed by the older man, Carlos had a sneaking suspicion that it was mostly a front. As they were wrapping up and saying their goodbyes, Owen insisted that he would take Carlos to lunch. But by the time they reached the camaro, the spring had decidedly left Owen’s step and he sunk into the passenger seat in a heap, face pale and drawn.

Carlos frowned at him as he climbed into his own seat, “Are you feeling okay?”

There was silence for a moment and Carlos could see him considering — trying to determine how little of the truth he could get away with, he assumed — before he sighed and shook his head.

“I think that took a lot out of me. I’m just feeling kind of worn,” he winced as he looked over at Carlos, “rain check on lunch?”

“Of course,” Carlos assured him without hesitation. Owen gave him a thin smile as he turned on the car and pulled out of the parking lot and back towards the Strand house.

They rode in companionable silence for a few blocks until Owen spoke: “What did you mean back there, when you were saying I wouldn’t be alone?”

“I was saying that you have a family here in Austin, and that family is not going to let you go through this alone. We won’t let you.”

“We?”

Carlos swallowed nervously, but his voice was firm when he responded, “We. That family expands outside the firehouse and your crew.”

“And includes you?”

They arrived at a stop sign and Carlos took the opportunity to meet Owen’s gaze. It wasn’t accusatory or smug. It was simply curious, and maybe a bit hopeful.

“Yes,” Carlos confirmed, “I’ll be here when you need me. You’re the most important person in TK’s life and whatever is important to him is important to me. I will be here.”

There was silence again as Carlos pulled through the intersection and they continued on their way. When Owen spoke again his voice was thick with emotion, “I don’t think I am the most important person in his life. Not anymore.” Carlos looked at him sharply, but Owen just smiled; “I think you have that title now, and I couldn’t be happier about it.”

Carlos turned his attention back to the road, heat rising up in his cheeks. Owen chuckled from beside him, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to overwhelm you. I just—I just want you to know how happy I am that you make him happy. How happy I am that you two found each other.”

“Yeah,” Carlos responded softly, “me too.”

--------

Owen made it into the house on his own, though Carlos stayed close to his side, just in case. As soon as they entered he seemed to deflate. He looked sadly at the kitchen and sighed.

“I thought I would at least make lunch for us since going out didn’t happen but…”

Carlos shook his head and gently turned Owen towards the hallway containing his bedroom, “Don’t worry about it, I can scrounge something up if I get hungry. Just go lie down and rest for a bit, I’ll hang out until TK gets home in case you need anything. Then maybe the three of us can try dinner later, if you’re feeling up to it.”

“You don’t need to hang out here, you’ve already spent your entire afternoon with me.”

“My mind’s made up, you’re not going to change it. Now go, before you fall over.”

“Are you sure you’re not too good to be true?”

Carlos rolled his eyes and Owen chuckled before turning to head down the hall. He paused at the threshold of the hallway, turning back again, “Carlos?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks, for everything.”

Carlos smiled, “Don’t mention it, I’m happy to help. Besides, I can think of worse ways to spend an afternoon.”

Owen shook his head at him in exasperation, but his smile betrayed him. With a wave he disappeared down the hall and Carlos waited until he heard his bedroom door close before grabbing a glass of water and settling on the couch to wait. A glance at the clock told him that TK should be home soon so he grabbed a magazine that was sitting on the coffee table to flip through idly, killing time and trying to keep his mind from racing.

It’s not that he’s worried about TK’s reaction exactly, but it did feel like he crossed a line today. Things in his relationship with Owen had decidedly shifted. While that wasn’t a bad thing, Carlos still felt weird about it happening without TK’s knowledge. They always made an effort to communicate clearly; to avoid miscommunications, to ensure that they were always on the same page.

Any worries he had were quickly banished from his mind by the sight of TK stepping through the front door. He paused on the threshold, eyes widening as he noticed Carlos on the couch.

“Carlos?” he asked as he set down his keys, “what are you doing here? I thought we weren’t meeting until later?”

Carlos set the magazine he had been pretending to read on the couch, a bright smile spreading across his face at the sight of TK. “We were,” he confirmed, “but I wasn’t here to see you. Not that I don’t want to see you,” he added hastily, “hi - how was work?”

TK rolled his eyes but his smile betrayed his amusement as he crossed to the couch, leaning over the back to give him a kiss: “Nice save. Work was fine, have you seen my dad?”

Carlos nodded, the smile on his face from seeing TK and getting to kiss him fading with the shift in topic, “he’s resting, the chemo session took a lot out of him today.”

TK nodded solemnly. He turned in the direction of the hallway likely with the intention of checking on Owen but paused, turning back to face Carlos with a curious expression.

“Wait,” he said slowly, “why would you come to see my dad today? You knew he had an appointment…” he trailed off and Carlos smiled sheepishly.

“I knew how worried you were about him going alone and I had the afternoon off, so I went. He was surprised, but I think he appreciated the company.”

TK was giving him a strange look so he stopped and frowned, his mind slipping into overdrive, “Was that not okay? He didn’t seem to mind…”

“No,” TK said quickly, “no, it’s fine. It’s more than fine actually, I just...you spent your afternoon off sitting with my dad at his chemo appointment?”

Carlos shrugged, “I like your dad. Besides, it was important to you so it’s important to me.”

He meant every word of it.

There was silence then as Carlos looked at TK curiously, not sure what to expect. TK for his part was staring at Carlos as if seeing him in a new light. Carlos was just about to ask what was wrong when TK leaned down again, placing a deep, lingering kiss on his lips. Carlos leaned into it, savoring the feeling on TK’s lips on his own. When they pulled apart, TK’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears.

“Thank you, Carlos,” he said, voice low and sincere.

Carlos smiled at him, reaching across the back of the couch to grab his hand. He intertwined it with his own, holding TK’s gaze all the while.

“I’d do anything for you,” he said simply.

The smile he got in return filled his soul and in that moment, Carlos came to a realization. He was hopelessly in love with TK Strand and there was no going back.

Even as he thought it, he knew one more thing without a doubt: he didn’t want to. TK was it for him, and he could be happy loving him for the rest of his life.

[read on ao3]

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #carlos reyes #owen strand #tk strand #tarlos

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prettyinlimegreenboots · 4 years

Note

“I think you might be pregnant.”

Minor cussing and some drinking in here along with hospital, IV, and blood. This is a continuation of this fic but you don’t have to read it to understand what’s going on in this.

January 21, 2020 8:00am

All was quiet in the ER that morning. Or as quiet as it could be with two gunshot victims and several heart attack patients. It had been crazy since he punched in at 5:00am for his 12 hour shift.

He threw himself into a chair and surveyed the waiting room. He was waiting for something to happen but for the moment it was temporarily calm.

He was lost in his thoughts, thinking of the dinner that Racer had promised him, when a chart was thrown on the desk with a bang. Looking up, he saw Plums standing there with an unsettling look on her face. “You alright, Plums?”

“Just felt off for a moment.” She pushed a smile to her face, sitting in a chair. “Hey, good job with that gunshot victim earlier. Not sure how but you got him calmed down.”

Spot grinned, thinking back to the first 30 minutes of his shift. “Got him talking about his daughter. Works like a charm.”

“Well I appreciate it.” Kat grinned, looking at the clock before turning to her chart.

Spot watched her. “Something’s off with you Plums. Are you doing alright?”

“I’m fine; don’t worry about me. Jack’s got all these ideas for projects this weekend and I’m a little nervous to be honest. But I’m fine.” She waved him off, as he raised an eyebrow.

“And is there a reason you’ve been in the bathroom like 6 times already this morning?” Spot picked up a pen and his own chart. “Is there something you wanna tell me?”

Her eyes went wide as her hands went to her ponytail to tighten it before giving him a look. “I didn’t know you’ve added stalker to your resume.”

“For being a doctor you’re kinda thick headed, Plums.” Spot smirked.

She turned, giving him a confused look. “Pray tell, head nurse Spottie, tell me what I’m missing.”

Leaning in close to her, he grinned before whispering. “I think you might be pregnant.”

She pushed back in her chair, eyes wide. “There’s no way.”

“Come on. There’s a way. You and Jack - trust me I know more than any brother-in-law ever wants to know.” Spot gave her a look. “You’ve got all the signs - frequent trips to the bathroom, sleepiness, fatigue, need I go on?”

Kat shook her head. “I’m not pregnant, Spot. Just drop it.”

“Just take a test. If I’m wrong, we drop it. If I’m right, we’ll celebrate.” Spot kissed her cheek. “Why are you so worked up denying this?”

She sighed, flipping the chart closed. “Just drop it. I’m off the clock. I’ll see you this weekend, love you.”

“Love you too Kat.” He gave her a look, watching her head to the locker rooms to grab her stuff. “I’ll see you this weekend.”

The day passed, with more runny noses and coughs that he wanted to see but it was quiet, thankfully. No major crises or issues walked through the doors. Looking at the clock he saw that it was just past noon. He was planning on escaping to the cafeteria to grab something to eat when the bay doors were thrown open and a gurney was wheeled in.

“What do we have boys?” He caught up with them, accepting the chart they had started before looking at the patient, eyes going wide. “Kat?”

“26 year old female; husband found her fainted and lethargic. Her husband called saying she had fainted several times, hitting her head the final time.” Spot looked at the gauze on her forehead before looking over at a worried Jack. He gave him a tight smile before looking at the paramedics.

“Let’s get her over to bed 2.” He said, pointing in the general direction.

Stopping at the desk, he gave Isabel, another nurse, a look. “Page Dr Rush and Albert. Plums is in bed 2.”

Walking over to the bed, he was met by a few nurses and an orderly. They transferred her to the bed, letting the paramedics leave. Spot looked at Jack. “Jack, talk to me. What happened?”

Jack kept an eye on the nurse as she started an IV, getting Kat hooked up to all of the monitors. Putting a hand on his brother-in-law’s shoulder, Spot looked at him. “She’s going to be okay. Now I need you to tell me what happened.”

“One minute she’s telling me what a pain in the ass you are at work today. And the next she’s falling to the ground. She was so still, Spot. She didn’t move for a minute or two while I called 9-1-1.” Jack cried as Dr Rush and Albert showed up.

Albert looked between Jack and Spot before nodding at them. Dr Peter Rush sighed. “Didn’t we just kick you to the curb, Plums?”

“Missed it too much. Had to come check up on all of you.” She grinned. “I’m fine you guys. It’s just a little head wound.”

Dr Rush stepped up to the bed and looked her over. “Albert, would you take Jack to the waiting room? We’re going to do some tests and you can come back in.”

Jack shook his head, giving Spot a pleading look. “I’ll come get you when we’re done, I promise.”

Letting Albert guide him, Jack sighed loudly. “Love you, Kat.”

“Love you too Jack. Go I’ll be fine. Call your brother.” She gave him a look, watching him walk away before looking at the two men in front of her. “Spot don’t start. Order a full blood work panel and see what’s up. Also, just stitch me up.”

Dr Rush chuckled. “She self diagnosed herself . . . why was I paged?”

“Possible concussion and because she’s a stubborn little thing and I needed someone to look at her.” Spot chuckled. “Anything else?”

Looking at Kat, Dr Rush gave her a look. “What year is it?”

“2020.” She grinned.

“And what day of the week is it?” He asked.

“Tuesday.”

“And what’s your puppy’s name?”

Kat grinned. “Basil.”

“I want a CT scan, I want to know why she’s fainting. I don’t think she has a concussion.” He handed her chart to Spot. “Let me know what you find out. Kat, take it easy; try to sleep some while you’re here. Let us run tests and we’ll see what’s going on.”

Waiting until he left, Spot gave her a look before drawing blood. “Did you take a test?”

Swatting him, she shook her head. “No but knowing you, you’re gonna run one. Put a rush on those, please?”

“Will do. You scared Jack.” He said, flicking the test tube a bit to ensure all the bubbles were out of it before putting a barcode on it. He would deliver the blood to the lab himself. “Do you need anything?”

She sighed, pushing herself up in the bed. “I know I scared Jack - one minute I’m complaining about you and the next I'm on the floor with his mug hovering over me. Can I have some water? Can you grab Jack?”

“I’ll have Al bring you some water. Anything to eat? And yes, I’ll grab Jack as I head to the lab.” He promised, patting her leg. “You’re going to be fine. We’ll figure this out.”

Kat smiled, biting her lip. “I had lunch. Thank you for everything, Spot.”

Spot patted her shoulder before giving her cheek a kiss. “Rest. I’ll send Jack and Al back here. Love you.”

“Love you to, Spot.” She smiled. “Thank you.”

He nodded, stepping out closing the curtain behind him before heading to the waiting room. Spot quickly found Jack sitting there with Racer beside him. They both stood as he approached. “How is she?”

“She’s good. She’s hooked up to an IV getting some fluids. We took blood work and I’ll bring it up to the lab. She’s going to be getting stitches and a CT scan and will know more in a bit.” Spot smiled at the two. “You guys can come back and sit with her if you want, until we take her up for the scan.”

They both nodded and followed him through the maze of the ER. He stopped at the desk and grinned at Al. “Hey can you come stitch up Plums? And grab her some water.”

“Sure. Thought you’d want to do that?” Al grinned, looking between Spot and the two behind him.

Fishing in his scrubs pocket, he pulled out the vial of blood. “Gotta take this to the labs. I’ll meet you guys by Kat in a bit.”

Tugging on Race’s hand, he pulled him closer. “Hi love. I’m sorry it’s so chaotic but I’m glad you’re here for Jack.”

“Hi yourself.” Race grinned, leaning over and kissing him. “Go be the hero and save the day. I’ll see you in a bit.”

With a pep in his step, Spot gave him a look before heading towards the elevator. Tapping his foot, he took a moment to inhale a deep breath before exhaling. He hoped the vial of blood would clue them in on what’s going on, though he had a pretty good feeling.

Walking into the lab, he grinned seeing Elmer standing there. “Hey man is there any way you can rush this and run this while I wait?”

Elmer gave Spot a look. “It’ll cost you.”

“Whatever it takes. I just need this done. Order should be in your inbox.” Spot handed over the vial, leaning against the wall, taking out his cell phone.

A quietness descended on the two. Spot took that time to flip through the texts he had received, most of them from Race trying to figure out what was going on with Kat. He sent Race a text to see how Kat was doing and glanced up at Elmer. “How’s your day been?”

“Busy. Y’all couldn’t have a quiet day in the ER could you?” Elmer gave him a look grinning.

Spot chuckled. “Never. But it’s been quieter than the last few days, knock on wood.”

Elmer laughed, shaking his head. “Glad you’re in the mayhem and I’m not. Alright, the tests will be in the patient's file by the time you get back downstairs.”

“Thank you! I owe you.” Spot clapped his hands, heading towards the elevator, pressing the down button.

Stepping off the elevator, he headed to the desk, pulling up Plums’ chart before reading the labs. His eyes widened at the one result, a grin pushing through his lips. Logging off the computer, he headed back to her bed. “Oh thank god you’re back.”

“What’s wrong?” He asked, looking between Jack and Race who both had grins, Albert who was frozen halfway between the bed and the curtain and Kat who just looked half asleep.

“These two are trying to convince Al to put purple or green stitches in. They think they’re funny but they’re not.” She rolled her eyes, hand flying to her head with a groan. “Can you stop them?”

Spot gave his husband and brother-in-law a look, pointing at them. “Al go check up on status for a CT, you two sit there and touch nothing.”

Walking to a drawer, he grabbed a few things, looking at Kat. “Did he numb you up yet?”

“No. He was too busy being egged on by these two.” Kat gave him a look. “Can you assign him flu cases for the next week?”

Spot grinned. “Shhh that’s our secret. How are you feeling?”

“Slight headache and just tired.” She gave him a faint smile as he prepped to stitch her up.

“Race, don't look at Kat. Keep your eyes away from her.” Spot said, glancing over his shoulder. “Just a few more Kat.”

Snipping the thread, he threw everything just as Al came back in. “They can take her now if you’re ready.”

“You two will have to wait in the waiting room.” Spot gave Jack and Race a look as Jack started to protest. “She’s going to be upstairs, running tests. You’ll be bored so we’ll come get you once she’s back.”

“Is she going to have to stay overnight?” Jack asked, standing.

Spot shrugged. “Probably not but we’ll know more after the CT scan. Don’t panic - this is routine and normal. She’s okay, Jack.”

Kat grinned at her husband and brother as they both gave her kisses. Al and Spot transferred her upstairs, Al leaving them at radiology. “So what did my labs say?”

“You owe me.” Spot looked at her. “You’re pregnant.”

Tears clouded her eyes, as she shook her head. “Really?”

“Yup.” Spot nodded. “We can do an ultrasound if you want when you go back down.”

She chuckled. “Not exactly how I wanted Jack to find out or you and Racer.”

“But it’s kinda perfect.” Spot grinned.

She nodded, folding her hands over her stomach. “Can we not tell Jack? I will, I just want him not to find out with the hubble babloo of the ER.”

“Let me talk to Rush and we’ll see what we can do.” Spot grinned. “Now let’s get this CT scan done and we can get you out of here.”

He sent a text to Rush with Kat’s request and waited in the hall until she was done. Blink quickly read the report and didn’t see anything abnormal which they expected. Pushing her back downstairs, Spot put her back in her bed before going to find Race and Jack. “She’s back in bed. I’ll have Dr Rush come in and she should be released soon.”

“Spot, give it to me straight. Is she okay?” Jack stopped him before he started to head to the back.

He bit his lip, looking between Race and Jack. “She’s going to be okay, Jack. Dr Rush wants to look at everything before coming to talk to you guys, okay?”

Jack nodded, following Spot to the back. Race followed them, but held back as Jack went to see Kat. “You’re lying.”

“Am not.” Spot gave his husband a look. “And since when do you know all medical things?”

Race grinned. “You biting your lip is a tell. You know something.”

“Even if I knew something, I couldn’t tell you because of confidentiality.” Spot gave him a look. “Besides if they want you to know, you’ll know.”

Race’s eyes lit up. “So you do know something. Spottie . . .”

“No, Racetrack. Go in and check on Kat.” Spot pushed him towards the curtain, giving him a pointed look. “I’ve got to get the doctor then I’ll be in. Don’t be a nuisance.”

Spot watched him disappear behind the curtain before heading to the nurse’s station. He saw Dr Rush standing there and slided up beside him. “Did you see Kat’s labs?”

“I was just looking at them. Now what does she want to do?” Rush looked at him, flipping through the labs.

Spot grinned. “She doesn’t want us to tell them about the lab results. So I was thinking we tell them she was dehydrated and she needs to push fluids for the next couple of hours.”

Dr Rush nodded, motioning him towards Kat’s curtain. Spot walked behind him, pulling the curtain closed behind him.

They stepped in and all eyes turned to them. “We have your results. Looks like you’re dehydrated but everything looks good. I would suggest taking it easy for the next couple of days and push fluids - water and juice. Skip the alcohol.”

Jack leaned over and kissed Kat’s forehead with a strangled chuckled. He closed his eyes, continuing to kiss her forehead. “Any questions?”

Kat laughed, shaking her head. “I think we’re all set. When can I leave?”

“As soon as Spot writes up the discharge papers.” Rush gave them all a look before stepping out of the curtain. Spot looked at the pure excitement in the room and the relief on Jack’s face. “Kat, do you need anything?”

She looked at Race and Jack who were both grinning brightly at her, a weight lifted from their shoulders at their wife and sister being alright. “Nah I think I’m alright. Just get the papers ready?”

“I’ll get them ready.” Spot chuckled. “How are you getting home?”

Race raised his hand. “I told them I would take them home since Jack rode in the ambulance with them.”

Nodding, Spot left the area, heading over to the nurse’s desk to start the paperwork. Spot logged into the computer, reviewing his notes before typing them up. Finishing them up, he quickly printed them off. Grabbing that and a prescription that printed off, he headed back to Kat’s area.

“Basically, keep hydrated, rest, don’t do anything dumb.” Spot gave Jack the paperwork, giving him a look. “Keep her calm, even though she doesn’t have a concussion, she might have a hell of a headache. Let me know if you have any questions.”

Jack nodded, giving him a look. “Thank you Spot. I’ll text you if I have any questions.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He gave Kat a look. “Let Jack wait on you hand and foot. No Dr Plums today . . . it’s just Katherine for the day. Go watch all those Hallmark movies you love and cuddle Basil.”

He started taking the wires and IV out before giving her a look. “Do you need anything before you go?”

She shook her head as Albert came up with a wheelchair, before helping her into the wheelchair. Patting Jack’s back, Spot watched them walk out of the area with a smile on his face. He just hoped that Kat would tell him sooner rather than later.

Race caught him as he walked out of the area. “Hey, what time will you be home tonight?”

“Around 5. You still making dinner?” Spot asked, giving his hand a squeeze.

Race nodded. “Pasta, right or do you want something else?”

“Kind of craving homemade pizza.” Spot grinned. “I’ll see you at home, I love you.”

“Love you too. Have a good rest of your shift.” Race kissed him, waving goodbye before heading out of the emergency room.

Going back to the desk, he collapsed in the chair, rubbing his hand over his face with a loud sigh. Closing his eyes for a moment, he listened to the noises around him. He heard the chair next to him slide across the floor, as he peaked an eye open. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m doing as well as I can be right now.” Spot sighed. “Got another two hours before I’m done and all I want is a bed for a nap. How are you doing? Ready for all the incoming flu cases coming your way?”

Albert threw his head back, groaning. “Ha you’re funny. I’m fine. I wasn’t in the room all that much but it seems as if Kat’s alright - just dehydrated from what I saw.”

Spot nodded, grinning. “I’m sure Jack will be the perfect nurse for him.”

The next two hours passed by without an issue, a few simple cuts and bruises and an arm that needed to be set. He quickly grabbed his stuff before clocking out and heading home. He sighed, getting into the car, starting to head home.

He was looking forward to laying on the couch with Sassie, their dog, and looking forward to whatever kind of pizza Race was making that night. Pulling into their driveway, he quickly got out before slamming the car door behind him. Walking up the sidewalk, he pushed open the door, inhaling deeply, sighing in content at the spiciness in the house.

“Honey I’m home.” He tiredly called, dropping his bag and kicking off his shoes. “And it’s been a hell of a day.”

Race poked his head out of the kitchen while Sassie made her way over to him. He patted her a few times, before leaning over and kissing Race. “I love you. It was good to have you in the emergency room and not be the patient.”

“I love you too and you’re not funny.” Race rolled his eyes, walking into the kitchen. “I have a beer open and ready for you.”

Quickly changing into sweatpants and a hoodie, he sat at the kitchen table and watched Race finish up dinner. He relaxed in the chair and listened to Race prattle on about anything and everything. As they were finishing up dinner, both of their cell phones chirped with a text message. “OH HELL YES!”

Race did a weird jig in the middle of the kitchen, with the biggest grin on his face. Spot gave him a look. “What?”

“WE’RE GONNA BE UNCLES, SPOTTIE!!!!” Race yelled, continuing his jig. “Jack just texted the news.”

Spot grinned, shaking his head, standing up and joining him in his awkward jig. The secret would stay with him now. In this moment, he would jig with his husband and celebrate the happy news.

There’s almost 3500 words of another emergency room fic featuring doc Kat and nurse Spottie. Hope you all enjoyed it. Let me know what you think!

#Newsies #Newsies Fan Fiction #writing #ask #drabble prompt #newsies drabble #jack kelly x katherine plumber #Katherine Plumber #Jack Kelly #Racetrack Higgins #spot conlon #Katherine is a Doctor and Spot is a Nurse #Life In The ER Newsies Series

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skittles1229 · 4 years

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Old Expectations Die Hard (Dashie x Reader Fanfic)

Chapter One: Weird Circumstances

You know your life is complicated when the friend you always complain to says "you never have a dull moment do you?" I sigh as the weight of the world seems to make it impossible to breath. You see recently things have been rough. I lost my job and my fiance all in the same day, that itself was an unbelievable story. I was so upset and strung out on thoughts of what to do that once i got home early from work i didn't notice the extra car in the driveway. i stepped into my home and my own floors felt as if they'd given way when i saw the guy i thought i'd be spending my life with in bed, with my sister... my sister and i hadn't been on good terms for a while and for a good reason! The drugs she took either made her unreliable and selfish or crazy and murderous. He, of course, pulled the its not what you think, id never hurt you, it was a mistake, and honestly i could write a book out of the excuses i heard in the time of two minutes but maybe another time. Needless to say i left. I never thought about going back and to be honest my sister looked more hurt then i was. I took a job in California a few weeks ago and moved in with my friend (BFF Name). They always seemed to know what to say and honestly i truly believe They knew me better then i know myself.

California gave me the biggest culture shock I've ever had. I came from Mississippi, the bible belt and the most rural part of the world. California was sooooo different then what i was use to. The weather is awesome. There's lots of jobs for technical people, at least until you're 45 and then you're considered ancient and you can't possibly know anything when some 23-year old out of Stanford tells you that they know it all. (a little bit of sarcasm there) It's a great place to start a new company, money is available as is talent. The risk of starting a company is lower since you can always find a new job The politics are insane, if you aren't towing the progressive party line you should just STFU. If you even once say that Trump has done something positive, or that Obama did something negative prepare for the wrath. Read the stuff behind the recently filed lawsuit against google for a taste of what it's like. Seriously, don't say a word. The state if structurally bankrupt, although the finances look good because so much stuff is off of the balance sheet. The public pension liability dwarfs the "good" part of the budget, and some day it is coming home to roost. Watch out when it does. The cost of living is absurd, really absurd. I'm not talking just a place to live but gas, electricity, haircuts, milk, pizza, you name it. The traffic is absurd too. (can you tell i like the word absurd) The public transit, although usually on time, is a mess. People are pigs, they throw trash everywhere, the cars are overcrowded almost all the time.

I've got to say, from how much it sounds like i hate California, i actually don't. Mainly because its so far away from my original family, leaving really helped me start to grow up and feel like maybe i was getting a hold of my life again. Only problem has been getting to my new job on time. I work as a barista and a waitress at a brunch place a good minute away from the apartment. The money is good, otherwise i wouldn't waste my time with the commute everyday. i keep being late to work because i still haven't adjusted to how terrible traffic is and so my boss was "nice" enough to switch me to the later shifts. The hours are long and boring because my shift starts in the middle of rush hour to the slowest hours at the end of the day meaning you have to find things to keep yourself busy with. the only good thing is, we can wear pretty much anything we want as long as its black. all i wear is dark colors so i didn't have to spend any extra money on a uniform and i didn't have to wear the same thing everyday. Today i decided i wear a v-neck shirt that with an emperor waist (body forming) with black skinny jeans and my regular converse. i decided against driving to work and decided it would be far smarter to catch a bus to the nearest destination. My (hair color) hair was done is a fishtail messy braid, i always liked this style because it made me look like i had a head full of hair when in reality i thought i was going bald.

My personality was a little odd, you see some days i felt like the beautiful nerd who has no confidence and wants to hide away in a hole. other days i feel like a model from Victoria secrets, of course those are the days i get the most tips. today was honestly a mutual day, where id rather be at home in my bed asleep, or listening to music. The bus finally stopped a block away from my job and i sighed obviously not wanting to go into work. surprisingly there wasn't nearly as many cars as there usually is around this time but i wasn't complaining. i walk in to see that most of the downstairs was empty but whoever was upstairs definitely had a loud mouth. i walk to the back in order to clock in and i bump into melany ( the girl im shifting with). "wow you actually got here on time! Maybe the boss's mood will cheer up." i huffed a little. "yea, i dont know why i thought id need a car in California, say whats with the low level of customers? its NEVER this slow." she looked at me in disdain, "some guys reserved the entire upstairs and we had to make this huge table out of all our tables up there, glad im not gonna be the one fixing it later." i rolled my eyes, i hated when a huge family came in and they just had to move everything around because little johnny wants the sit next to suzzie and suzzie HAS to sit by her parents bc she likes to throw her food on the floor, all fake names but a real situation ive been in before. "well have they at least been fed so that i only have to clean up after them?" she shook her head while hanging up her apron. "nope, they've only ordered their drinks and they are getting those onto trays now." so today was gonna be like every other day. "guess i better go help them take those upstairs then, have a good rest of your day." i walk away and slip on my apron, grabbed one of the trays of drinks while another waiter grabbed the rest of the drinks. Once i got upstairs, that's when i met him...

Chapter Two: Last Will and Testament

He was sitting on the far end of the long table of people laughing and joking. everyone seemed to be loud and all had their own inside jokes. This guy, he stuck out. i changed my attention to the task at hand, finishing this shift. i hated when people moved all the tables and seating around. all the waiters and waitresses have to go back behind them and look at the layout of the floor to put them all back exactly as they were before. it was a struggle and because of this nobody actually wanted that job so usually the manager gives it to her least favorite workers and i happened to be one. "who all had coke?" nobody answered me so one of the men bellowed out the same line and somehow was able to get a show of hands. i walked around handing out drinks, catching the lingering smell of strong liquor. i could tell by the end of tonight they would all be wasted and loud. please, just don't make more of a mess then you have to, i thought to myself. i had one drink left on my tray, "sweet tea?" the guy i saw before at the end of the table waved his hand and i dreaded going over there, i always seem to make a fool of myself when it matters.

i make my way slowly down the table with the tray under my arm and the tea in my hand. i lean over to sit his drink on the table.."here's your t-" *CRASH* while joking with one of his friends his elbow crashes into my hand sending the tea flying all over me and the cup crashing to the floor, thank god i wore black. he turned around and looked more horrified then i did. "i'm sorry! i'm so sorry!" his voice was deeper then i imagined it'd be. "no, it my fault i'm sorry ill get you a new one." i turned away to hide my embarrassment and walked away really just trying to get away from the situation. i could tell from the silence behind me that all eyes were on me. i ran to the back where the lockers were for the service. i went to the bathroom and stripped the sticky clothes off throwing them aside. i sat on the toilet trying to catch my breath, my social anxiety had struck me hard. a feeling of worthlessness and dread fell over me like a blanket. after the past few months i've had just one day without something terrible happening would mean the world to me. i heard a knock on the door, it was melany, she walked in with a towel from the kitchen. "hey, i heard what happen upstairs are you ok?" i covered my breast trying keep myself as unexposed as possible. "oh yea im fine, im just cold, and sticky, and... covered in tea." melany and i made eye contact and both laughed just to lift the dread in the air. "let me guess, all the guys are getting a kick out of watching me fumble again huh?" i said a little less concerned and more annoyed. she rolled her eyes "they are boys, they get a kick out of picking their own nose. we both slid to the floor beside each other, she hands me the damp towel. i get most of the sticky off as possible, throwing my hair up to make it look less clumped together by the sugar. "i have an extra black t shirt in my locker but i don't know how it will fit you. your breast are at least a size larger then mine." i shrugged my shoulders, "who cares ill make do. thanks for your help melany." she smiled her weird anime girl smile and ran to get the shirt from her locker.

ill have to admit, she was right about the size thing. it was far to small around the chest area but the rest fit fine. after the incident my boss stuck me down stairs wiping tables and sweeping the floor, i dont mind though because i get to experience the day coming to an end with a beautiful sunset over California. i secretly kept the the window to watch as the sun fell from the sky. the sky seemed to burn and darken while the clouds began to glow with the last bit of sunlight left. the sky filled up with burning Burgundy and faded orange and yellows, the tallest buildings seemed to reach for the skyline as if it were a sunflower moving to the last drip of sunlight. moving here had been hard, and this had become one of the things i looked forwards to. living in the apartment with my friend was nice, buts its not the same as coming home to someone you use to lay with every night. sleeping alone seemed so much colder and emptier then i remembered from childhood. my mother would be so disappointed in the way i turned out, in the places id gone and the decision to spend my life with someone who was most obviously the wrong one. she would have told me to slow down and to take my time, that growing up wasn't everything. she would have said love isn't something you just wake up and have, its something you make. i wasn't anywhere close to where i thought id be by now, and i could see that. it tears at my heart everyday, not being able to see her or any of my family. sometimes it felt as if they'd all died in the fire that night.

i suddenly heard a boom of voices making their way down the stairs, i hadn't realized how close to closing time it had become. all of them walk out stumbling and laughing at their own jokes, seems they all got a good bit of drinking in, all except one. The guy i ran into on accident seemed as sober as ever, designated driver i think, he was much taller now. he seemed muscular but in such a fitting way for his body. his teeth sparkle because their so white, his smile complimented him best. his high cheekbones made his chocolate brown eyes his best feature. His skin was glowing with a sweet honey hue and before i could notice that i was staring he turned his head. his eyes met mind before i could think twice and that's when i felt the heat rise to my cheeks. weather it be from embarrassment or silly school girl shyness i didn't know . i turned my face away but it was too late, i turned my face a little just to catch a glimpse of him before he made his way out of the door and that's when i noticed his cheeks had gone from a burnt caramel to a rosy color. i felt my body shiver at the thought that maybe, just maybe he found me as attractive as i found him. i shook the thought from head realizing they had began locking the place down. as i helped close up shop and wash dishes i couldn't help but to let my mine wander to all different kinds of thoughts, funny thing was they always fell back to him and his rosy cheeks. i couldn't help but smile as i felt my heart race at the thought of him, even though id made a fool of myself today i was glad i hadn't ruined my chances. Even if he'd never get with me or i wouldn't ever see him again, i'd still take it as a compliment that he even looked my way.

before long we were all outside laughing and talking about today. The manager locked the doors and said his goodbyes. i turn to walk towards the bus station when i see a man standing aside awkwardly between the restaurant and the parking lot. suddenly my eyes adjusted and once they did, the joyousness butterflies came back and the blush suddenly reappeared on my cheeks..

There are lots more chapter after this if you are interested you can find them here

https://my.w.tt/sosFRmianbb

#dashiegames #dashiexp #dashie x reader #fanfictions #fanfic #self insert #romance

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jessgartner · 3 years

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2020 Life Olympics

The real Olympics may have been canceled in 2020 but the Life Olympics persevered like the postal service of Olympics.

First, I’d like to apologize for my role in the chaos of 2020 because I think I had a slight miscommunication with the powers that be and I feel partly responsible. Here was my plan for 2020:

My theme for 2020 is Intention because I want to take the energy I feel right now and deploy it with more intentionality next year - bringing increased mindfulness to how I spend my time, money, physical and mental energy. And because I love wordplay, I also literally want to spend more time camping “in-tent” to enjoy more peace and quiet and beauty in nature.

The universe was like, “Oh, she wants to spend less money and more time outside? Well, shut it down. Shut the whole planet down.”

I mean, mission accomplished, I guess? I did spend less money and more time outside and had to be VERY intentional with my mental energy to survive the day-to-day morass of 2020. Next time, I will be more specific with my annual manifestations. Sorry to all.

2020 was brutal for pretty much everything and everyone. I don’t know anyone who isn’t in some state of grief right now, including myself. I debated doing a Life Olympics at all this year, feeling like-- what is the point? Hundreds of thousands of people died, our democracy is hanging on by a thread, and millions of people lost jobs, businesses, and homes.

Like many people, I’ve been struggling with anxiety and depression this year which intensified as it got darker and colder outside. At a low point, I talked with my therapist about the struggle of just not wanting to do any of the things that usually bring me joy-- and how periods of relief were so fleeting. “But you have to keep doing those things,” she said, “even if they’re not working right now, you have to keep doing those things and trust the process; the joy will return.”

So even though I don’t really feel like it and kind of feel like it’s dumb, I’m writing the 2020 Life Olympics. I’m trusting the process.

2020 Life Olympics Recap

Work - Participation Trophy

Starting a company is hard, operating a company is harder, but running a company during a global pandemic and economic crisis is something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. 2020 was not a fun year to lead a business; it was hell. On March 15, the plan for the year pretty much went out the window and everything went into survival mode. I never take the company or my team for granted, but I’m particularly grateful to be able to usher this work into 2021.

Despite the craziness, we still had some big wins this year. We launched new product partnerships with PowerSchool and Amazon Business. We rebuilt our tool for equitably calculating district funding formulas. And I got to flex my creative muscles with EdFinToks! Throughout it all, I was lucky enough to be surrounded by a team of people who are as compassionate as they are talented.

I’m worried about public education more than ever after this year, but I’m going to keep fighting every day to make it work better for kids.

This is Work-Lite but I also spent a good chunk of time this year leading the modernization workgroup for Bill Henry’s transition committee after his spring primary election to become the new Baltimore City Comptroller, ousting a 25-year incumbent, Joan Pratt. This was an enlightening (and infuriating) experience for me that gave me a glimpse into the operations of a segment of the City government. This process also really helped crystallize how much I enjoy making public agencies function more efficiently; I’m excited to see what Bill does with the recommendations (some are already being put in action!)

Health - Gold

This is the second year in a row (and ever) that I’m giving myself a Gold medal for Health. This was easily a year that I could have regressed on all of my healthy habits and no one would have blamed me. Instead, I leaned into protecting and improving my physical and mental health in 2020. It’s not an exaggeration to say that walking probably saved my life this year. I spent a lot of time walking around my neighborhood and various state and city parks-- walking is maybe not the best word; I stomp and charge around like I have a score to settle with the ground beneath me. My walking increased 370% in 2020. This is a habit of 2020 that I’d like to keep. My brain and body are happier if I can spend a little time walking-- stomping-- around outside each day.

I also did a lot of biking this summer. My cycling increased 200% this year-- with much more time spent cycling outdoors. My crowning achievement this year was biking to and from Annapolis:

I spent a LOT more time outside this year which was critical for my mental health. On the downside, I only did 90% as much yoga and 60% as much strength training, so I want to try to be a little more balanced next year.

I also invested a lot in my mental health this year. I kept up with therapy every 2-4 weeks and in October I decided to pursue a formal diagnosis for ADHD which I definitely have! Needless to say, staying in one place this year has been a special kind of hell for me.

Home - Silver

Well, I definitely spent less money this year. And the way I did spend money made me (mostly) sad:

Travel down 70%

Auto & Transportation up 200% (boo cars)

Shopping down 60%

Personal Care down 35%

Gifts and donations up 200%

Food and Dining down 40%

Entertainment down 35% (I kept up my singing lessons virtually which accounts for a lot of this category)

2020 was quite the palate cleanser from my 2019 year of hedonism but maybe we can go for a happy medium in 2021? Just kidding-- I will resume my hedonist ways the minute the world opens.

I also redid my home office like every other work-from-homer on the planet and replaced my crumbling kitchen floor so the house got some TLC.

But nobody enjoyed having me home all year as much as Darwin:

Relationships - Bronze

What a weird year for relationships of all kinds. I’m giving this a Bronze because while I invested a lot into a few relationships this year, there are also a lot of people in my life to whom I haven’t been able to give my time and love.

One of the most important relationships in my life this year was with one of my former students. After bouncing around in the foster system for many years, we reconnected around the holidays in 2019 and he started crashing with me while we tried to figure out stable housing and employment. He was arrested in January and was incarcerated for the next several months awaiting trial. Finally, we were able to negotiate a plea agreement with the State’s Attorney and he came home around Independence Day. We spent the next several months getting him set up with a phone and various identification documents-- a nightmare in normal times and a total abyss during the pandemic. I got him registered to vote when we got his ID card and I took him to vote for the first time (a supreme treat for this former social studies teacher):

He’s now got a full-time job and stable living situation. Calling this THE success of 2020. Thank you to everyone who helped me with resources all year for housing, legal processes, and documents. It takes a village.

It was a bizarre year for family. We lost my grandmother in September, so not being able to spend the holidays together felt like an especially cruel loss. Other big losses this year include a trip to France to celebrate a milestone birthday for my mother and my brother and sister-in-law’s wedding (Mosby seemed pretty ok with the alternative plan, though):

But in many ways, my family has been more together than ever this year thanks to prolific group chats and photo-sharing. Mostly, I’m just glad everyone else is safe and healthy. As my father often reminds me, “Our problems are small.”

And dating? What to do with this weird Jane-Austen-esque dating scene-- as if modern dating weren’t fraught enough. Is this the universe punishing me for ending my 2019 dating hiatus early? I, for one, have given up. You win this one, pandemic. I’m just going to have my little Twitter crush and call it a year. Next year, though...

Horizons - Silver Gold

You know what? It’s hard to expand your horizons without people or places.

I did the best I could. I finally got back on track with my Goodreads challenge and actually had a really good year of reading, including finally embracing audiobooks through my Libro.fm subscriptions. I especially enjoyed Michelle Obama’s book Becoming and Mike Birbiglia’s The New One on audio-- both narrated by their authors.

I camped in Pocomoke (MD), Western MD, Lake Michigan, and Ohiopyle (PA):

I explored over 30 new hiking/biking trails-- some favorites including the Youghiegheny River trail in PA, the NCR trail, Catoctin Mountain, the C&O Canal Towpath, Annapolis Rock, and of course, Stoney Run in my backyard.

I left Facebook and started the Life Olympics newsletter. I’ll be honest, I don’t miss Facebook but I also don’t understand where that energy, time, and brain space went. I was spending cumulatively hours a day mindlessly scrolling Facebook and I quit cold turkey and barely noticed-- what black hole of our brains does social media occupy? I kind of thought that with all that extra time I would write the next great American novel or something. I’m probably spending a little more time on Twitter, which I could stand to cut back on. Other than that, I think I was just trying to process the shitstorm of this year. Maybe I’ll write the next great American novel post-pandemic.

For the first time in my life, I feel somewhat ‘caught up’ on pop-culture. I finally watched Parks and Recreation (twice); I watched The Mandalorian and finally actually watched Star Wars (episodes IV-IX); I watched the final seasons of The Good Place and Schitt’s Creek; I’m caught up on Insecure; I watched The Prom and Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom and Jingle Jangle; I even started Bridgerton. I know what everyone is talking about and I’m catching so many more pop-culture references these days. (I guess instead of writing the next great American novel I watched Netflix?)

2020 Lessons

I’ve spent plenty of time mourning the missed opportunities of 2020 and will probably always wonder what this year could have been in an alternate universe with a functioning government. But we only have this reality for now, and we made the best of it.

I wanted to slow down in 2020, try to be more intentional, more mindful, and...

No thank you! I liked the pace of my life; it makes my brain and heart happy. I’m happiest when I wake up in a different city three days in a row. I like darting around every borough of Manhattan for nine meetings and three cocktails and then taking a red-eye to Europe. I want to run around to eight conferences for 18-hours a day for three weeks and then sleep for 22 hours. I miss overloading my brain so much that I need a deprivation chamber to sleep. This is who I am. This is how I like to live. And when I was locked down alone in the house for a year, slowing down, being mindful, I never once thought, “I should have... when I had the chance.” Because I always did. And I always will.

2021

We shake with joy, we shake with grief.

What a time they have, these two housed as they are in the same body.

Mary Oliver

We’ve had enough grief. 2021 is going to be all about joy.

Universe, let me be clear: this is not a euphemism or code or secret signal.

I want pure, unadulterated, abundant, joy. I want multi-course dinners in restaurants with lots of close friends and good wine. I want the virus so far gone that I can make-out with handsome strangers. I want a rollicking good time in France and/or Brazil and/or Prague and/or New Zealand and/or Bali. I want to spend the day after Christmas in NYC with my father. I want to be a glutton for theatre and art and music. I want celebrations and parties and sequins.

I want to shake with joy.

If you’d like to receive the (shorter) monthly Life Olympics, subscribe here.

#lifeolympics

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shannygoatgruff · 4 years

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My Brother’s Keeper - Chapter IX

Genre: Psychological Thriller

Modern Ivar X Modern Hvitserk

Rating: MA

Overall Warning: Dark story told from an emotionally distributed person’s POV with graphic and sadistic material including rape, terror, torture, kidnapping, drug use, slash, implied incest, necrophilia, and insecurity. Heavy trigger warnings.

Chapter Warning: Drug use, talk of spiraling out of control

Summary: Mama always said to be their brothers’ keeper. Now there is absolutely nothing these two won’t do for each other. Boys will be boys…

Chapter IX

Why the fuck am I watching the news? This is what flipping through channels gets me. I should have never stopped when I saw this bitch’s face. I fucking hate her.

Now, I either want to put my fist through the TV or pull my damn hair out.

Fuck, I hate this bitch! She’s no different from the rest of these news assholes. Always trying to dig up some shit that should be left alone. Putting all of our personal business on blast like that...pieces of shit. And this whore is the worst of them. She's purposely trying to make Ivar and I look bad.

"Police are trying to find a common thread between these murders. The victims have all been found in remote areas throughout the county. The coroner reports each victim showed signs of sexual trauma and or torture, pre- or post-mortem. While police have no suspects, in these killings, they do believe they are all connected and have been committed by the same perpetrator. Witnesses to the last two victims’ disappearances have described seeing a Caucasian male, between the ages of 18-35, approximately 5’8” – 6’2”, medium build, with medium to dark hair, leaving with the victims. If you have any information about these victims or the suspect, please call Detective Torstein, Homicide." The white numbers for the police station flash on the screen under this bitch’s face.

“You fucking cunt!” I don’t know what just fell to the floor as I kicked the coffee table in front of the couch. She has no right to show fucking pictures and the names of our past guests. But, I’ll be damned, if they are there. All the ones from this month: Halfdan, Porunn, Astrid, and Erlendur. None of them looked like that when we met them. Then, they were all slutted up and ready to please. But looking at these pictures, they look like they’re a part of a fucking church choir.

You bitch!

But, fuck you news-lady, you forgot one. You forgot about that girl we met at the concert. I almost did. At least, I can keep one of those special nights sacred without you fucking it all up and turning it into some freak show for these news groupies to salivate over.

Shit, I just wish I could remember that whole night.

I can only remember meeting her and bringing her back to the cabin. I remember she was a great lay, and that looked fucking amazing. But that’s it. Every time I try to remember what we did, or how many times we did it or anything else, there’s like a blank spot. I don’t know if Ivar got to try anything new with her, or what.

Ivar said I blacked out, again. Did she pass out before or after he got to her? Did she try to escape? Did he punish her long and hard for that? Did she cooperate and he let her go? Is that why she wasn’t on this little photo lineup? What the fuck I am saying? He wouldn’t’ve done that shit. They just haven't found her body, yet.

That bitch reporter is smiling again. She's enjoying all the fucking lies and the smear campaign that she’s creating against us. "Stay tuned for more information on these murders as they become available. Judith Wessex, reporting, Action 10 News."

"Lying bitch!" Just the look on her face and the sound of her voice is driving me crazy. She doesn't know us. She has no right to say those kinds of things about us. Nobody tortured or brutalized anybody. It was all in fun. They were into it.

Ivar takes the remote from my hand and tucks it into his palm, "You don't need to watch this." He's been extra protective since I woke up in his bed. I can't do anything. He must have really been scared after this last blackout because he won't let anything upset me. Changing the channel, he settles on something non-threatening; Property Brothers. He knows I love that show. "There. That's better."

"I'm fine, Ivar,” I lie, “that bitch on the news just got under my skin.” I reach over to pick up the ashtray – when did I start smoking so much? I’m already on my second pack today and I’ve only been awake since noon.

"I know you are. But you get bothered so easily. I just want you to take it easy." His smooth voice caresses my ears and instantly gives me goosebumps on my arms. But he knows the damage is already done. Standing behind me, he holds his arms out on either side of my head, with his fists out in front of me. “Left or right? Pick one.”

I have no idea what’s in his hands, but since we’re both right-handed, I nod toward his right hand. He tilts my head back so I’m looking up at him. “Open up.” I obediently do as I’m told and feel three pills of varying size hit my tongue.

He quickly places a kiss on my forehead as I sit up to swallow the pills dry. Turning in my seat, I watch as he drops the pills from his left hand into his mouth. He holds his tongue out for me to see his four pills before his tongue darts back into his mouth.

“What was that?” I try to swallow hard enough to make the pills slide down my throat. Hopefully, it’s something that’ll make me stop wanting to throw this fucking television out of the window.

Ivar shrugs and smiles, “Fuck if I know. I found them in my coat pocket. Guess we’ll find out shortly.” He picks up the dishtowel that he had sat down on the back of the couch and slings it over his shoulder, "Anyway, Serk, that shit that reporter said wasn't true. She's just trying to fuck with us. Trying to make us slip up." He starts to walk out of the room but stops and turns around with a huge smile. "Maybe we should party with her." His smile immediately fades when he sees how upset she's made me. "Awe, brother… don't worry about that bitch. I'll kill her if you want."

"They know what we look like, Ives."

"How many white guys are there in the world, Serk? They can’t even agree on my goddamn hair color.” He leans against the wall and folds his arms across his chest. “I took care of everything. No one knows. No one will ever find out." There is such honesty and power in his voice that I can’t help but trust that he believes this. I know he wouldn’t chance anything getting in the way of the life that we've built together.

But, there’s still that part of me that fears that our world is about to come crashing down around us. What would I do if I didn’t have this outlet or God forbid they took Ivar away from me?

"I can't handle this shit anymore. Fucking bitch reporters are lying on us. Stupid fucking cops are trying to dig shit up and sticking their pig noses where they don't belong." Everything as of late is running through my mind. This use to be so much fun, but now everyone else is fucking it up. "Something wrong with me. My blackouts are getting worse. We went out and I can't remember it. I can't remember jack shit from the past week! Who the fuck blacks out for a whole week? How long can I go on like this before something really fucked up happens?"

It feels like my throat is closing and I’m starting to sweat. My heart rate is speeding up and I think I’m about to die. I can’t breathe. Jesus, why does Ivar put up with me when I'm like this? "I'm fucking up at work. Fucking Ub is gonna come here and start asking questions. Thora’s gonna fucking leave me. You're gonna get tired of taking care of me! Shit's just all fucked up." I sit forward with my arms on my thighs and try to catch my breath. I try so hard not to give into the fear, but fuck if I'm not feeling it leak out of my pores.

This is why I need Ivar. Thora could never handle me like this. I can't even handle me when I get like this. "I don't know how much more I can take, Ivy. I can't do this shit, no more! I can't." All the air I’m trying to gulp in isn’t helping at the moment.

Standing before me with a concerned look on his face, he shifts his weight from one leg to the other. "Hvitserk Ragnarsson." And there it is - that voice that I fucking hate. That voice Father used to keep us in line. Ivar rarely uses that voice, but when he does it immediately gets my attention. I look at him obediently as he sits on the edge of the couch next to me and studies my face.

The amount of emotion in me is overwhelming and before his hand even reaches up to touch my hair, my throat starts to ache, my head hurts and my eyes are stinging. Shit.

Ivar's arms around me remind me just how much I need him and how important he is to me. "I'm sorry." I lean my head back on the pillow and let the tears run down my face. I’m so embarrassed and tired of always losing my shit. But true to form, his arms are around my neck and he presses his lips to my cheek and coos sweetly in my ear until I feel my fear dissipates.

With a smile on his face, he turns my head to his. "Better now?" His thumbs trace my tears as he holds my head in his hands. The look in his eyes tells me that everything is going to alright and I believe him. A simple nod of my head convinces him that the worst is over and with that, he places the gentlest kiss on the tip of my nose. I don't how he does it, but he always makes it better. "Come on," he takes my hand to pull me off the couch with him, "I baked cookies."

Now I just feel silly. I had another meltdown and truthfully I can't remember why especially when I see the plate of fresh-baked cookies that he has laid out on the kitchen table. Whatever was wrong with me just moments before seems trivial. It's amazing how he just always seems to know what to do to make everything better.

Ivar's back is to me as he looks out of the kitchen window, but judging by the way his neck is arched, he's taken an interest in something. "We have new neighbors." His voice is distant, almost like he's speaking without thinking. He can’t tear his eyes away from whatever is outside, but his head turns the slightest bit to face me.

I’ve never seen him entranced this before. Ivar never fixates. These neighbors must be amazing.

I stuff a chocolate chip cookie into my mouth and pick up another one on my way to the window. He's right. A new young couple is moving in right next door and the woman is exceptionally beautiful. Her eyes are big and bright, her face is like silk and she has this refreshingly innocent look about her. It's enough to remind me that I haven't called Thora since the last night she was here.

Then there's the guy with her. There's something in the proud way he stands... the way his muscles protrude from the sleeves of his t-shirt, and the powerful way in which he slips his arms around her and lifts her off the ground…It makes my top lip sweat and a tingle start at the base of my skull.

I can't move. I can only stand here and chew my cookie as I watch these beautiful creatures in front of me. “They are perfect,” My voice comes out like a dream. I don’t even recognize the sound of it.

As soon as I look over at him and see that gleam in his eye, I know that he already knows. They are perfect.

He lifts my hand to his mouth and takes a bite of the cookie I'm holding. "Yes. They. Are." Chewing, he nods his head and smiles. "We should welcome them to the neighborhood." He always says that the only way to get over the last one is to take a new one. The more I think about it, the more sense it makes.

Something happened with the last girl. Something bad enough to make me forget the most important things. I wish I could remember that night because I want to know that I showed her a good time, but I don't want to remember why I lost control. It's no use worrying about it now. I can't dwell on old memories. I can only look forward to making new ones. New memories with my new neighbors.

No matter what I've done before or how I feel about it now, the only thing I can concentrate on at this very moment is the dull gnawing in my gut. I need something to keep my mind off of all of this shit.

I need this. I need them. I may always be fighting with the half a conscience I have, but the growling inside of me is usually much louder than it.

The beast inside of me is awake again. And it's so damn hungry.

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