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i-am-a-bad-influence-writes · 3 years

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I hate love, but...

Pietro Masterlist - Full Masterlist

Summary: When you and Pietro met, it was right from the get go. However, love has done you wrong before and you have a hard time accepting that Pietro isn’t going to drop you and he’s more than willing to prove you that he’s staying.

Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Word count: 2.7k

Author’s note: I wrote this in a few hours. I didn’t beta read, I don’t have beta readers to do it for me. Have fun.

Life moves fast with Pietro. He had kissed you when you said yes to a date because he got excited. He ended up in your bed after said date and didn’t leave for about a week. When he finally left, he asked you to be his girlfriend. It wasn’t intended. Pietro was just easily excitable and in touch with his feelings. He knew from the start that you were special but you aren’t as excitable as him. You’ve had your run-ins with love up to the point that it isn’t in the stars for you to end up with a partner. When you said yes to being Pietro’s girlfriend, you were already thinking of a way out that would leave you with the least amount of pain but nothing worked. You tried ghosting him but he’d just be at your door the second he thought you were taking too long to respond. You tried being rude but he chalked it up to you having a bad day and took care of you. You tried to flirt with coworkers to make sure he’d leave before you fell for him but he just swooped you away and asked if you wanted his attention that bad. No, nothing worked and now you’re over the edge. You’re falling and you don’t have a parachute but for the first time in forever, you are not scared of the landing. You’re not even sure if there will be a landing.

Two months in and Pietro spends more time at your place than he does at his room in the compound. When he’s done with work, he’s right at your doorstep. You feel like you’re happier. You know for a fact that you’re smiling more because your cheeks hurt almost every night when you go to sleep. Your hands are never cold because he’s always holding them and your bed is never empty, except for the times you fall asleep on the couch together. ‘Prinţesă?’ Pietro cranes his neck so he can meet your eyes as you sit in your reading chair. For the past hour, he tried to nap while you read. He never accomplishes his mission to nap unless you lay with him but he tries nonetheless. Most times, his napless rest ends up in him overthinking. He often overthinks prior decisions and actions. So, more often than not, Pietro’s napless naps end up in discussions about life or assuring him that he did well in the past. You are prepared to talk to him as you always are. You close your book and lay it on the armrest of your chair. ‘Yeah?’ ‘Hypothetically speaking, would you want to meet my sister if I asked you to?’ ‘If I said yes, would you actually let me meet her?’ A smile appears on his face as he lays back down. ‘She’s already on her way.’ He peeks at you, watching how your face turned from a cocky smile to fear. To be fair, your apartment is a mess and you want to make a good impression. ‘Don’t worry, prinţesă, she’ll love you,’ he assures you, ‘besides, she’s not staying. She’s just bringing over some clothes I left at the tower.’ You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and grin. ‘Clothes hm? I can’t remember asking you to move in,’ you tease him. He motions for you to come over to him. As you get up from your chair, he grabs your hand and yanks you on top of him. You squeal when he does and gently hit his chest while you laugh it off. ‘You didn’t have to ask,’ he tells you, ‘I could tell you wanted me to stay.’ ‘You’re such an asshole,’ you smile and press your lips against his. His arms wrap around your body, holding you steady against him. Your hands move up into his hair. For some reason, they always end up there. His hair is just so soft and fluffy. But the blissful moment is short-lived. The ringing of the doorbell puts a quick end to the whole ordeal as you and Pietro exchange looks. Do you do it or me? ‘I can’t open the door if you’re on top of me,’ he tells you. ‘Oh, so you are going to open the door when I get off,’ you ask as you push yourself up. ‘That wouldn’t be logical because you would already be up,’ he explains to you. ‘Just say you’re lazy.’ ‘I’m lazy.’ You shake your head and get off the couch. ‘I’ll make it up to you.’ ‘You better,’ you warn him as you head over to the door and then it hits you. He wants you to open the door for his sister. How would she know who you were if he didn’t show her or tell her about you? ‘Oh you sly motherfucker,’ you mumble under your breath. Suddenly, you feel his hot breath on your neck. ‘Say that again and I’ll make sure you can’t walk tomorrow.’ ‘Your sister is at the door,’ you tell him, ‘you better behave.’ He shrugs and walks back to the couch. ‘She knows how I am. I have nothing to worry about.’ You watch him belly flop onto the couch and finally open the door. There stands a woman who looks nothing like Pietro. She’s shorter, a redhead, and just looks like a total badass. Now you’re kinda intimidated. ‘Hi, I’m so sorry for taking so long,’ you say with a smile. ‘That’s alright. You must be Y/n, right?’ You nod and shake her hand. ‘I’m Wanda. I’ve heard a lot about you.’ Pietro jumps up from the couch. ‘Don’t tell her that,’ he yells at Wanda. ‘Shut up Sonic,’ she snaps back and throws the duffel bag she carried towards him. He catches it with ease but pretends to be hurt by letting out a low grunt and falling back onto the couch. She turns back to you. ‘Can I come in?’ ‘Of course.’ You step aside and watch as Pietro’s face changes. He looks slightly terrified of his sister as she steps inside. ‘What? You’ve been gone for two whole months and I don’t know the girl you’re living with. If you thought I was just going to drop off your clothes and leave, you’re insane,’ she tells him and sits down on your reading chair. ‘Wanda, would you like tea or coffee?’ ‘No, thanks. I’ll be out of your hair soon. I just want to have a small heart-to-heart talk with my brother if you don’t mind.’ ‘Oh, of course.’

A month slowly crept by and Pietro never told you what they discussed in that heart-to-heart talk. All you knew was that Pietro was sulking for a while after Wanda left. You decided to give him space and try not to pry, thinking it was him finally pulling away from you and leaving you to crash from your fall for him. Maybe Wanda made him see you’re not a good candidate to be a girlfriend for a man like him. And yet, it didn’t feel right. ‘Pietro, can we talk?’ You watch the fear flicker behind his eyes as you sit down on the couch next to him. He turns his body so that you are facing each other and nods. You take a deep breath but before you can speak he asks: ‘Are you breaking up with me?’ ‘Wha-what?’ ‘You’ve been so distant and I thought-’ ‘Wait, no, I thought you were going to break up with me.’ He frowns. ‘Why would I do that? You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.’ ‘Then why have you been so quiet?’ He doesn’t have a quick answer ready and though his words made your heart swell just a second ago, the silence is chipping away at it. ‘I’m not sure,’ he admits to you, ‘I guess I’ve been thinking more. About where I want this to go.’ ‘Did you figure it out yet?’ He shakes his head. ‘I do know that I want you to meet my family,’ he tells you, ‘the Avengers.’

You never expected you could be this nervous on an elevator. Not because you’re nervous to meet the Avengers. No, because Pietro keeps fiddling and telling you things he’s said a million times by now. ‘Tony has probably already done a background check on you so he’ll have some questions. You’re a woman so you don’t have to worry about intimidation from Captain America but I would worry about Natasha and Clint. They have taken Wanda and me in like they’re our parents. And-’ You press your lips against his and smile. ‘I know. I’ll be fine,’ you promise him and lace your fingers through his, ‘we’ll be fine.’ He smiles and nods confidently. The elevator door opens and you see a few people scattered around a fancy-looking room that has a bag, big cozy couches, a pool table, multiple other places to sit, and floor-to-ceiling windows. And the ceilings are pretty damn high. ‘Wow.’ ‘Ah, thanks, kid.’ You look in front of you to see Tony Stark approaching you. You show him a friendly smile and nod. ‘I’m Tony.’ You shake his hand. ‘Y/n Y/l/n but I’m certain you already knew that.’ ‘I did,’ he admits, ‘and Pietro probably already told you about me.’ You nod. ‘Lucky for you, I don’t have any questions for you. You seem to have a pretty cut and dry life.’ You stifle a laugh and nod. ‘Well, let’s meet the others.’ He offers you his arm but you decline and take Pietro’s arm instead. He nods at the gesture and shows you to the couches. ‘Everyone, this is Y/n Y/l/n, Pietro’s girlfriend,’ Tony announces to the group, ‘that’s Thor, Steve, Sam, Bucky, Natasha, Bruce, and Clint. You already know Wanda, right?’ You nod. After the talk you and Pietro had, Wanda came over again and stayed the night to talk you up to speed with some of the characters living at the compound. Just to prepare you a little. It had just been one day but she was so welcoming. ‘Nice to meet you,’ you say with a timid smile. Pietro shows you to a place to sit. You’re lodged between Wanda and Pietro. ‘So how’d you two meet,’ Natasha asks. ‘Oh, we bumped into each other in the park,’ you tell her, ‘he made me drop my coffee so he told me he’d buy me a new one to make up for it and at the end of the encounter I had his number and he had asked me on a date.’ You leave out the part of the kiss, just in case, Pietro feels a bit strange about it. It was a strange encounter. ‘Ain’t that adorable,’ Natasha grins, ‘first kiss?’ You look at Pietro who shrugs. ‘Does that mean he can’t remember or you don’t want to tell,’ Clint asks you. Wanda chuckles. She knows. She must know. Pietro probably told her. After all, she was the only one who knew about you all this time. ‘Well, I...’ Pietro looks at you again and then at the group. ‘I asked her out and I got a bit excited when she said yes-’ ‘You kissed her right after you asked her out?!’ You have never seen Pietro turn this red. Not even after that first kiss when he realized what he had done. You feel like you have to step in. ‘Just to be clear, I didn’t mind.’ Your eyes meet Pietro’s once again. He smiles back at you and a thought pops into his head. A thought he couldn’t prepare for and one that didn’t leave his mind the whole night. “This is it. This is who I’m meant to be with.”

Your head rests on Pietro’s chest, one arm and one leg thrown over his body, while he traces meaningless patterns on your arm. You’ve had a long day meeting the Avengers and answering all kinds of strange questions. You were glad you had Pietro by your side but as of now, you’re both tired yet unable to sleep. Pietro stares at the ceiling, seemingly deeply lost in thought while you admire his face. From the slight stubble on his chin to the moles and freckles on his skin. You try to memorize all of them. That is until you see him frown. ‘What’s on your mind?’ You ask but you are terrified of the reply. ‘Us.’ ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ He shakes his head and you feel your heart drop but you don’t move away. He has given you no reason to. ‘No, I just want to tell you something.’ You roll onto your stomach and rest your head on your hands, looking up at him as he moves back against the headboard a little so he can look at you while he’s talking. Something in the pit of your stomach is telling you that this is the make-or-break moment in your relationship. He either tells you he loves you now or breaks it off but he’s dragging the silence. He watches your eyes as they stare up at him filled with hope in the dim light of your shared bedroom. Soft moonlight falls through the sheer curtains of your bedroom. He always thought that was adorable, that you didn’t want thick curtains because you enjoyed waking up to sunlight. It’s something he didn’t think he’d enjoy but he does. In fact, almost everything you enjoy, he enjoys. Over just a few months, he learned to take things slow. He learned that he didn’t have to be awake every second of every day, that he didn’t always have to do things fast. You would read to him and he enjoyed it. He was able to really take in the words you read to him instead of rushing through the book like he usually does. Cooking with you is a domestic dream come through. It is never sexual in the kitchen, you take cooking too seriously for that, but the dinner table is a whole different story. And that’s another thing he learned to take slow. Sex. Making love. He never imagined sex and making love would be such different things from each other and with you, he learned that he had never made love before. When he would lay you down on your bed, he would take his time taking in every spot, every crevis, every mark on your body. He takes his sweet time with you and he loves every moment of it. In fact, ‘I love you,’ he states proudly, ‘and I don’t need another few years to figure out that I want a future with you. I want to wake up next to you every day for the rest of my life. I want to start a family with you and grow old together… You’re it for me.’ ‘Wow.’ You smile meekly, not quite sure how to respond. This is not at all what you thought he was going to say. ‘I didn’t know you thought about us like that.’ ‘How do you think about us?’ You take a second to think of your response and you watch him getting nervous like you had gotten before he spoke. ‘You know, I used to hate love before I met you,’ you tell him, ‘I had been broken so many times that I thought I would never find someone for me but then you ran into me and there was this spark. I had never felt that before and I was scared it was just me but you proved me time and time again that you felt it too. And I still fear that you might wake up one day and realize that I am not what you thought I was.’ He gently grabs your chin and lowers his face to brush his lips against yours. ‘That will never happen.’ You pull away, leaving him confused and a little scared. ‘I wasn’t done.’ A smile appears on your face. ‘I hate love, but I’ll make an exception for you.’ A bright smile appears on his face as he leans down to press a seething kiss to your lips. ‘I love you.’

Life moves fast with Pietro but you don’t mind.

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katieraven · 3 years

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sleep is so tough

Summary: your attempt at dealing with losing Bucky is unsuccessful and results in a sleepless night - for several reasons.

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes/female reader

Warnings: angst!!, happy ending (because I can't write sad endings for the life of me), a lot of metaphors, thoughts about death, loss and grieving, a tiny description of a panic attack

Word count: 3227

Notes: @babycap you wonderful human! 600 followers is huge and i am very happy about this fic. the prompt was: "I wanna be in your touch / Sleep is so tough" - James Bay, Chew On My Heart and I wrote a lil something that i'm kinda happy with. do enjoy!

love,

katie

It’s the same nightmare. You recognise it from the last three weeks, you’ve been here before. Doesn’t make it easier to shake out of it. You watch him convulse, face torn and twisted somewhere between pain and the desperate attempt to keep his free will. The fight against the venomous words the HYDRA agent hurls at him. They’re like daggers, needles stuck into his brain, rewiring him. And all you can do is watch. You are frozen in place in the torture your subconsciousness puts you through. Again. And again. And again.

You can’t will your eyes to tear away from him. He snarls like a cornered animal at the agents around him. Then the final words. “грузовой вагон“. Freight car. You don’t know Russian, but those ten phrases have been burned into your brain. You could recite them in your sleep.

Bucky stills. He slowly stands up from his crouched position, cold stare fixed onto the speaking agent. “Я готов отвечить“.

You startle awake, the nightmare finally loosening its grasp on your consciousness. Immediately, your hands fly to the other side of the bed. It is cold and empty and your stomach drops when realisation hits you like a punch to the gut.

This is not a nightmare. At least not entirely, no. It is a memory. Because you saw the footage. You saw Bucky convulse and bend and snap and straighten. And you saw Steve, heard his scream as Sam pulled him away, forcing him to leave his best friend in the hands of his torturers. Steve knows it was the right thing to do. You do, too. The thought of Bucky being all alone behind enemy lines still makes your breath hitch in your throat, though.

They didn’t want you to see the footage, it wasn’t supposed to be something you get confronted with. But you slipped into the room, originally meaning to talk to Natasha about some software to try out in the next mission. They didn’t notice you entering, eyes trained on a screen, FRIDAY running facial recognition in the background. They kept playing the footage over, and over, and over, and again, looking for any kind of clue as to where they could find him, until your knees gave out under you and you fell with a whimper leaving your throat. Natasha was the first to understand the situation. Steve let out a string of colourful curses you would have never stopped teasing him about, hadn’t you been trying to wrap your mind around what you just saw.

If you had known they were back already, you would have noticed him missing and asked. But you didn’t even know they were back. And then he was gone.

You finally open your eyes. The New York night tints the white ceiling a blueish sort of grey and you feel like someone painted the inside of your heart onto the concrete. A perfect replica. Grey inside. Empty. Broken and alone, left to try and fail to put yourself back together.

Your fingers curl into a fist around the cold and empty bedsheets. They have been empty for three weeks now, and your body has no tears left to give. So you lie there, silent sobs violently breaking free from the void that is your chest. Sometimes you don’t know if your heart is beating, still, and your hands can’t find it in them to check. It wouldn’t be so bad to die, you think. There’s not much keeping you here.

Steve visits every few days. He carries the same hollow look in his eyes, like someone snuffed out the light behind them and carelessly forgot to turn it back on. With the sole difference that he is better at hiding it. It is only when he thinks nobody is watching that the sticky navy blue ink that is grief seeps into his face and turns his eyes empty and his face pale. You don’t mention it.

You know it’s supposed to help, sharing grief. Which is why you open the door when he visits, and don’t turn him away. He needs it, too, you suppose. So you sit on your sofa in front of the tv and watch something stupid and mindless that none of you pay attention to and both of you pretend to find acutely intriguing whenever the other is looking.

It’s all a giant game of pretend. SHIELD is feigning confidence in finding him. Everyone else oozes positivity whenever they talk about the mission. But it’s false, and hollow, and the truth of it sneers at you through translucent optimism.

You turn your head to look at the alarm clock on your bedside table. 4:36 a.m. That means you slept an astonishing three hours. That’s two more than yesterday. You’re not afraid of the nightmares anymore. You know they will come. The terror shaking you night after night has become a companion, just as the grief following closely in everything you do. It looms over you at night, hides in the shadows behind the furniture in your living room, joined by Steve’s whenever he’s there.

You were afraid to fall asleep, yes. Pulled two all-nighters in the first days after. By now you have learned to read the signs your body so openly presents you with and you know you will not fall asleep again tonight. So you lie there, hand splayed over the empty right side of the bed, eyes staring through the ceiling.

Fuck, you miss him. It rolls over you unexpectedly and your body seizes, curling up into a fetal position as your obviously alive and beating heart pumps sharp agony through your veins. He is gone. You know, of course, you understood before and this feeling is familiar, but for the first time, it truly settles inside you. Bucky is gone.

The man you imagined a future with, who handed you his broken and bruised heart and trusted you to fix it, is gone. The charming wooden home near the sea you always talked about when his nightmares were too much and too real slowly turns to dust between your grasping fingers. You feel it slip. The bell-like high pitched laughter of a young child evaporating in your mind.

You feel your heart break. There has been a dull ache in your chest for weeks. You’ve gotten used to it, embraced it into your menagerie of demons and ghosts, grief and loss. But it betrays you, right now, as you feel your heart pound against the cage of your ribs, and it burns. You still lie curled into yourself, blanket tangled between your legs. You will explode. You feel it with a new certainty, this will kill you. You breathe in and out, you know you do, but none of the air arrives in your lungs. It leaves you desperately gasping for oxygen.

Until you realise none of it is real. Because your heart is not here in your room with you, your heart lies in the mismatched hands of a broken soldier somewhere between here and the sea. It can’t kill you here, because there is an organ-sized hole in your chest and the coldness of the world tears at your exposed ribcage with icy shrapnel-sharp claws. Does it bleed? If so, you can’t feel the warmth. Blood is warm, right? Bucky always said it is.

You exhale slowly. Will your seizing muscles to relax, to let you go. To your surprise they do, and you inhale again, cold night air. It doesn’t yet escape through the wound in your chest. The hole hasn’t reached your lungs yet. But you know it will consume you, leave no part of you untouched, unbroken, will rip you apart for all your demons to finally feast on what is left of you.

Maybe he will find you first, you muse. Maybe HYDRA will find the last bit of mercy in them and send him after you, to cut his strings. You know you will not fight when he does. It would be a sweet oblivion with his eyes the last thing you see. Grey irises like molten silver when the sunlight hits just right.

Your arms fold against your chest. The skin is whole, not a scratch, no bleeding wound. You know it can’t be true. It is simply your minds way of processing this pain. Your imagination fixed the hole but you know it’s still there, still gaping. You can feel the edges burning where the hole ends and the marred skin starts. But you live. Still this broken body carries you on, one day after another.

You sit up in your sheets, hair plastered against your forehead by the thin film of sweat covering your body. As your back straightens, the metallic clinking of dog tags root you into this reality and you pull them out from under one of Bucky’s black shirts you’re wearing.

“Keep these,” he murmurs and presses something hard into your open palm. You look down and see the two thin pieces of metal piled on top of each other, embossed letters spelling his name, his full name. Your stunned eyes flicker back up into his and you open your mouth to protest, but he shushes you with a finger.

“It’s not like I need them. If I die, this thing” – he gestures to his arm – “will tell everyone who I am. But I want you to have these.”

Your thumb smoothes over the plates, shoving them against each other. “I mean … I won’t complain, but why do you …?”

He shrugs, embarrassment tinting his cheeks. “I don’t know, I guess it feels like a part of me stays with you, y’know? A physical part. So that you have something real to hold onto until I’m back.”

It hits you, then, that he’s leaving. He picks the tags up and puts them around your neck and you reach for his hands, fingers closing around his forearms. “Don’t leave me, Bucky. Please, I can’t lose you –“

He puts his hands on either side of your face and kisses your nose, before looking directly at you. “You won’t lose me, you hear? I’ll always be with you. Always.”

But now he’s gone, and you close your fist around the metal tags until they push into your palms, and harder until they cut the delicate skin. You want to be angry at him but you can’t. It’s not his fault. It’s not his fault he couldn’t keep his promise.

You steady your breathing. Eyes wander to the red numbers on your alarm. 5:23. No use trying to sleep anymore, you decide, and sit up. Might as well make coffee. Maybe you can get something done today. Clean the laundry up at least, so Steve doesn’t have this awfully concerned look on his face next time he visits.

It takes you a couple of minutes to actually, physically, move. In your mind you’re already in the kitchen, filling the coffee maker with water and watching the coffee slowly dribble into the pot below. It has something therapeutic, one drop at a time. Almost meditative.

But, well, you do have to walk over into the kitchen to reach this point of short-lived meditative oblivion. So you swing your legs over the edge of the bed, and your eyes fall onto the covered mirror in the corner. It’s floor-length, and you used to love being able to admire your whole outfit in there without having to stand on your tiptoes.

Like that one time before one of Tony’s extravagant galas, when you tried to get a good look at yourself and the glamourous dress that, as Natasha had pointed out, would look amazing on your figure. She had been right – naturally. But the tiny mirror in your bathroom hadn’t shown the whole thing and so you were leaning over the sink to try and look. Which was exactly the moment Bucky chose to walk into the room, only to promptly wear an affectionately amused smirk on his face, assuring you of your otherworldly beauty (“Oh come on, Buck, don’t mock me – “ “I’m not, you are otherworldly, doll, dazzling even!”) and pointing out that you were in desperate need of a floor-length mirror.

In the first few days of Bucky’s absence, you hung a bedsheet over it because you couldn’t bear the memory. In fact, you can’t recall the last time you actually looked at yourself. With utmost certainty, though, you can say that your skin must be grey and sunken and the darkened circles under your eyes a deeper shade of purple than when you were knee-deep in college finals. God, that time seems ages away. If you hadn’t gone to college then maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation – you would have certainly never ended up at SHIELD. For a second you wish you hadn’t. This pain would not be part of your reality, then.

But then again, you wouldn’t have met him at all. And as much as this, right now, hurts, you wouldn’t trade it with any reality in the universe if it meant not knowing him. Not loving him. Not knowing his deepest, darkest secrets that he only opened up about after one particularly bad nightmare, with his head in your lap, not daring to meet your eyes.

No, if this pain is the price for his love then you will take it. You will let it eat at you until there is nothing left except your hollowed shell of a body because it will have been worth it.

You walk past the covered mirror and open the door, bare feet against the cold kitchen floor. You go to reach for the coffee maker when something registers with you. Something out of place, a slight inconsistency in your regulated, never-changing surroundings. You barely see it in your periphery.

Your movements still and your head slowly turns toward what is undoubtedly someone sitting in your living room. The moonlight glints on his left shoulder and you realise, within the smallest fractions of a second, who it is.

The hollow excuse for a heart that sits in your chest sputters and stills, before springing back into action twice as fast. He came back.

A steady stillness settles over you as you understand the situation. They sent him. Loose ends and all. Yet you’re not afraid, this death will be quick and quiet. It gives you an odd sensation of peace, to know that his will be the last face you see – even if it is the Winter Soldier’s face. But they’re still Bucky’s eyes.

“It’s okay”, you whisper.

His intent gaze never leaves you as you slowly, deliberately walk towards him, step by step. You know that Bucky is in there, too, and you need him to understand that you accept this. That it is not his fault. That you are ready to die if it is at his hands.

There is an unusual uncertainty in the Soldier’s eyes. You have seen footage of him, cold expression, a sort of stone-hearted efficiency about his movements, never a step too much. He has not moved yet. You feel every bit of skin on your feet connecting to the wooden floor as you move towards him, slowly, but steadily. If this is how you are meant to go, then you will.

You’re only three feet away from him as you stop. His eyes followed you all the way there. Now they start to flicker over your face, your body, confusion slowly but definitely showing in the crinkles on his forehead. He opens his mouth and you hold your breath.

“I –“, it comes out croaky, like he hasn’t used his voice in forever, so he clears his throat and starts again.

“I know you.”

Your lungs deflate, shakily. He hasn’t killed you yet. If he hasn’t killed you yet, why is he here? The Winter Soldier doesn’t hesitate. The uncertainty in his face sparks something deep, deep inside of you that you thought dead by now. Hope.

His eyes find their way back to your face and he is searching it now, not the stoic, cold mask of the Winter Soldier. You don’t dare speak. The fingers of his left hand flex with an electric whirr.

“I know you, but …” he trails off.

His right fist opens, fingers seemingly involuntarily reaching out. You step closer and lower yourself down, bare knees on the wood flooring, eyes not leaving his.

“I remember you.”

His voice is steadier now, more confident that he does, in fact, know you. That there is something inside his brain, something more than just the Soldier. More than just the missions. Just the trigger.

His hand, the real one, reaches towards your face and you close your eyes upon contact, a shaky breath leaving your lips. His index and middle finger trail across your cheekbone. Follow the curve of your lips. Trace your eyebrows. Your eyes flicker open and your breath gets caught in your throat because there he is, there he is, his eyes his own.

“Bucky –“

His name leaves your lips, a choked sob partially escaping. He blinks. Still, his eyes are his own. His lips part and then he whispers your name and you are certain this is a dream. A change of pace from the violent nightmares of late, but still a dream, because this can’t be true. How could it be.

But the hardwood floor is rough against your knees and his hand is warm against your cheek and he is there. He slides off the chair onto the ground before you and you feel hot tears spill from your open, disbelieving eyes. His other hand reaches for your face and then he’s holding you there, so unbelievably gentle, his eyes tortured and lined in purple but undeniably his own.

“You came back”, is the first real thing you say to him.

His thumb smoothes over the dark bruise under your eye, proof of sleepless nights and tired days.

“I’m so sorry”, is the first thing he says to you in his own voice.

You close your eyes, lids pushing tears over the edge and you let them drip down onto your bare thighs as you shake your head, a soft smile on your lips.

“There is nothing you need to be sorry about. None of this was your fault.”

“I – you’re hurt”, he states, matter-of-factly, and your eyes open again.

You try and put everything into your eyes, everything you feel, the hope, the relief, the love. Most of all the love.

“But you’re back. That’s all that matters. Do you hear me?”

His grey irises swim with regret and pain and fear and yet you see love in them. You gently touch your forehead to his and he sighs, eyelids fluttering closed.

“I love you, and you’re back, and that’s all that matters.”

The cold seeps into your body from the floor, your knees scraping against the hardwood. Neither of you dares to move, the calm of the situation too delicate, neither sure if this is real or just a particularly cruel dream. But it is too beautiful to disturb and so both of you remain where you are, hands gently touching the other. Thankful for this moment of peace.

Forgot my taglist consisting of one wonderful person: @mannien

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keanureevesisbae · 3 years

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Becky's debut novel (Sugar Sugar fic)

A/N: So, @thelastsock gave me such a great idea: a snippet of Becky's book. So I have a snippet here, including a front cover, back cover and a little dedication page (because I am extra like that 😂😂, what else do you expect from me). Hope you like it xoxo

Chapter 1

YOU ARE NOT WELCOME.

Those are the exact words that greet me when I walk up our porch to our front door. Let’s just say that my mom has a special way of welcoming her quests. I step over the slightly offensive doormat to get inside. Not a lot of people would expect this kind of welcome from the mayor, but then again: no one expected her to win the elections in our town Starfall Fields in the first way.

Not to be mean, but even I never believed in my mom and not for a second did I think she had any chance of winning. Mom has been quite the controversy the second she moved into town. How on earth would she be able to be the mayor?

Weirdly enough, she hasn’t made a complete fool out of herself in these two months she has been mayor. Actually, she’s been doing quite well. It’s just that her housekeeping skills have been lower than low.

I open the refrigerator and scrunch up my nose when I notice there is barely anything edible in here. Great.

I grab my phone and send my mom a text.

Josie: You need to do groceries

Mom: Do it yourself, you lazy bitch

Mom: Still love you though 😘

I chuckle as I read her text. She’s quite something, my mom, and if we don’t call each other bitch at least once a day, there’s something up and we should worry.

People might find it odd that we call one another bitch, but it’s just our way of showing our affection towards the other.

Somehow I find some left over yogurt that isn’t expired already. I peel a banana (to only throw half of it away, because it’s brown and squishy, therefore absolutely repulsive) and cut it into slices. I drizzle some maple syrup on top of it and want to add some raisins, but when I open the jar, I find out there is only one raisin left in it.

‘Mom,’ I whine, though she can’t hear me. ‘Really?’ This is just absolutely fantastic. After a long day at school, a girl can barely enjoy a nice little afternoon snack. I grab my bowl and walk over to the dining table. My butt barely touched the soft seating of the chair, when my best friend Andy FaceTimes me. I place the phone against the fruit bowl before I press answer. ‘What do you want?’ I ask him. ‘You literally saw me half an hour ago.’

He smiles, two dimples appearing in his full cheeks. ‘You know I can’t get enough of you, sugar.’

Andy and I have been best friends since I can remember, but that is mostly because we’ve been in the same class the moment we both stepped foot into kindergarten and we’re neighbors. We’re literally the two houses in a radius of around half a mile (yes, we took the time to measure it) and he isn’t the worst guy to hang around with.

Okay, he is the only one that doesn’t make me that angry, I have to fight the urge to claw his eyes out. I’m not gonna beat around the bush: I love hanging out with him.

While we see each other the moment we step out of our houses to go to school, share every class of the day with one another and we walk from school back to our houses, it’s hard to function without the other one. Therefore, we usually FaceTime the second we can after separating.

We’re quite the symbiotic pair.

‘Spit it out, Andy. What do you want?’ I ask.

‘I was wondering what your plans are,’ Andy says. ‘Mainly for tonight.’

I can’t help but chuckle. ‘There was a plan of me hanging on the couch, watching a movie with my best friend while we eat junk food, but your voice is telling me that you have something else in mind for the two of us.’

He nods. ‘I was thinking about you and I doing some FindUrPricing tonight.’

‘FindUrPricing is not a word, you idiot.’

‘I don’t care, miss Doyle,’ he retorts with a sassy undertone. He shakes his head, gestures I have to wait (like I’m going anywhere) and comes back into frame, this time with a tablet in his hands. ‘I have like five of these things, so what do you say? Want to bury them tonight, while we try to find something cool for it in return?’

Andy has this obsession with solving puzzles in newspapers like the old soul he is and since he is quite good and really fast, he has won multiple prizes, including multiple tablets.

‘Only if I find a diamond ring,’ I answer with my mouth full of yogurt.

‘Yeah, that’s attractive. You’ll find yourself a boyfriend in no time with those manners.’

I show him the finger. ‘I don’t need etiquette lessons from you,’ I say.

Andy sticks out his tongue. ‘Are you coming with me tonight?’ he asks me. ‘You know I need you.’

I chuckle. Andy is a disaster when it comes to being in the dark, but since FindUrPrice is just more fun at night, I have become his personal guard. ‘Okay, okay, but only if I can sleep at your place tonight. I have no idea what time my mom will be back from work.’

Andy’s parents are going to the opera’s tonight and afterwards, they’re staying in a hotel near the big city. Normally, they aren’t the type of people to go to the opera’s, but when their son wins tickets, including a stay in one of the most luxurious hotels in the area, who are they to say no?

Since I have no idea what time my mom manages to pull herself from city hall (to say she is a workaholic is an understatement), I’d rather sleep at Andy’s, then telling her we’ve been wandering on the street late at night.

Especially on a school night.

Sure, my mom knows about FindUrPrice, but she forbade me to ever do it late at night, because “you never know what can happen”. I personally think it’s not that big of a deal, since Starfall Fields is boring as hell and absolutely harmless, but my mother wouldn’t be my mother if she didn’t envision my death.

FindUrPrice is an app for the younger folks in our city and the few around. The organization hid a few gifts and presents and whenever you follow the leads and find something, you have to place something nice in return. It’s cute and me and Andy do it from time to time.

‘You’re coming over now?’ Andy asks.

‘To help you do your laundry?’ I ask, nodding towards the screen, mainly towards the enormous pile of clothes on his bed. ‘Didn’t think so. See you in a few hours, Andy.’

‘Please,’ he begs, right at the same time as I hear his mom in the background yelling for him. ‘Yes, wait a minute!’ he yells. ‘Can I live with you? I feel like your mother never pushes you to do chores around the house.’

‘That’s because I do them voluntarily. If mom doesn’t do laundry, no one does it. If mom doesn’t clean the toilet, no one does it. Believe me, with a mom who all of the sudden turns a bit blind when it comes house chores, there is more to do here than there is at your place. Don’t you dare whine about it, Andrew Carter.’

We hang up and I grab a magazine from the table, reading through some of the articles. How to painlessly bikini wax yourself, how to get rid of strawberry legs, how to get yourself a man in a week.

Geez, mom, why do you read this?

No wait, better question: mom, why haven’t you gotten yourself a man in a week? This issue is three months old.

My phone rings again and without looking I answer, since I know exactly who is calling me. ‘Andy, I’m not helping you with your laundry,’ I say. ‘Shirts, sweaters and other items for your upper body go on a hanger and the rest with clothespins on a drying rack. How many times do I have to tell you that?’

‘Thank you for this wise, yet unnecessary lesson in laundry,’ mom says and I can hear her smile in her voice. ‘But laundry is your chore, so I pretend I didn’t hear it.’

‘What do you want?’ I ask my mom.

‘Wanted to know your plans for tonight.’

‘I was planning on hanging out with Andy,’ I say. Go outside, do some FindUrPricing. ‘Watch a movie. Probably sleep at his place. He is home alone, you know how he gets.’

Mom snorts. ‘Oh, do I know. How old was he when he rang our doorbell, nearly crying because he was afraid of the dark?’

‘The last time was a few months ago,’ I chuckle. ‘Why do you want to know my plans for tonight?’

‘You know,’ mom starts and I do know. ‘There is still a lot to do here at city hall.’

‘Right,’ I say, ‘and you wanted to know whether or not I mind. Mom, I’m your daughter, I truly don’t care.’

‘I’ll make it up to you,’ she says, mostly because she is trying to feel less guilty.

And I wouldn’t be her daughter if I wasn’t going to totally exploit her sweet offer. ‘So, you’re making breakfast for me and Andy tomorrow?’

She sighs. ‘Goodness gracious, really? I’m going to pull an all nighter.’

‘You wanted to be mayor and you’re also a mother. Deal with it.’

Mom scoffs. ‘And here I was thinking I was gonna get some sympathy from my daughter.’

‘Ew never,’ I say.

‘Well, I might just make breakfast for you, only if you eat it here. I might be your chef, but I’m not a waiter and I’m certainly not gonna walk it to the Carters.’

I scoff. ‘Okay, I think I can live with that.’

‘Alright, enjoy your night, Josie and don’t make it too late okay? Ten o’clock lights out, okay?’

No. ‘Of course. Bye mom.’

I look at the picture on the dining table. Despite not being blood related, my mom and I are really close. According to Andy’s mom, it never seemed like my mom would settle down. She moved to this boring place a few years prior to finding me on her doorstep. She was thirty and didn’t have a husband (nor had any intention of settling down with anyone—she turned down a lot of men who asked her out in Starfall Fields). Even back then, she was already a workaholic and worked over time as the mayor’s assistant.

One day, when she was getting herself ready for work, she heard soft cries from her front porch and when she checked it out, there was yours truly.

I was around a year old and in the cradle, there was a note saying that whoever found me, to take good care of me. My DNA wasn’t available in any database, just like there were no matches at all.

I have no idea who I am, who my biological family is and where I’m from.

Mom adopted me, because I only felt safe with her and since that moment, we were a duo.

A year and a half ago she became the mayor and since then she is everywhere in Starfall Fields, except home. I barely see her, but she does a lot for this town and I don’t think I have the right to whine about it, especially because it means many many sleepovers with Andy and many nights wandering around the woods to play FindUrPrice.

Sure, I miss her from time to time, because she’s still my mom. From someone who was home a lot, would wait for me on the porch no matter the weather when I came back from school and had chocolate pie ready for me and Andy, she changed to a real career woman who is everywhere in town.

But that’s okay, she’s happy and when she is, I am too. I should be, especially after everything she has done for me.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill x asian ofc #henry cavill x becky kim #becky kim #asian ofc #sugar daddy!henry cavill #sugar sugar #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfic #becky kim is an author

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hellonoblesky · 3 years

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School got me worn out so here's my team dynamic HCs

It's Kaeya, Xingqiu, Diluc, and Ayaka atm hngjfhgdjfg

Kaeya

This man is so tired, Archons please let him rest

Has to pick up his week's paperwork from Jean every Monday when we go to Mondstadt to buy food supplies and stuff before fighting Andrius, gets to work on it while Diluc and the Andrius team go at it

Actually is the person who keeps the whole party safe, has pulled Xingqiu away from ledges while he's reading more times than he can count, makes sure everyone has food at all times, and keeps the schedule in line

Has a flask of Death After Noon that he keeps on him, has to actively keep it away from Xingqiu because the kid's curious

He is so tired he is the reason the party only gets up to leave at like noon because he sleeps in

Thinks he's good enough at hiding his anxiety that no one else has noticed

He is not, they've all noticed him shaking visibly at high speeds in 90-degree weather and the kids will do their best to avoid fraying his nerves on a bad day

Very kind to Xingqiu and Ayaka, kinda like a cool uncle? Buys them things even though they can afford it

Kinda lets the kids do what they want and chat while he keeps them safe and the whole party on their way

Absolute tank, balances his skillset out so he can manage most threats alone, no one has to get hurt, they can just travel, it's fine it's fine

Pretends to casually bring up stuff the kids want to do (after meticulously making sure the party would be in the right place at the right time)

"Xingqiu, we have time to kill, care to show us to the Wanwen Bookhouse? We can see if they have the next issue in that book series you're always reading! :)"

"Ayaka, you wanted to try some Liyuen cuisine, didn't you? We have a dear friend who just so happens to be a chef at Wanmin Restaurant! And since we're in Liyue anyway, we should swing by, shouldn't we?"

He tries his best to find something Diluc wouldn't mind doing too! Usually, Diluc turns him down but Kaeya has scored on occasion!

"C'mon Diluc, you can't have lost all your taste for reading, right? I hear Inazuma has some interesting books nowadays, what with all the isolation..."

Basically, he just tries his best and is so tired please let him rest

Diluc

This man is angry all the time but he doesn't mean to be. He's just unnerved because he's basically back to hunting Fatui in other nations. He just isn't alone this time and the Fatui aren't the focus

He's so annoyed that they don't leave until Kaeya wakes up, actively in denial about the fact that he himself wakes up only an hour earlier and everyone else is waiting for much longer

Runs right into danger all the time please someone tell this man to calm down he is the reason they need so much food

Does and takes a whole lot of damage at the same time and it stresses Kaeya out so much

Was not Pleased to find out he'd be stuck traveling with Kaeya, puts up with it because he can't bring himself to turn down the Traveler's request. Because in his eyes they're just a kid trying to find their family and he really can't turn down their plea for help in

Gets along surprisingly well with Xingqiu, they both enjoy reading, and often recommend books to each other! Diluc has no idea Xingqiu wrote Legend of a Sword, but the only reason for that is that he literally forgot the book name

"Hmm... in Mondstadt we have this book, The Fox and the Dandelion Sea? For a traditional Mondstadt fairytale, it does remind me of Inazuma, funnily enough. There are versions of the book that are watered down for younger children, but if you have the time I'd recommend the full novelization."

"Tales From the Waves? No, I haven't read that. Is it good?" ... "A novelization of an old ship captain's life? That does sound interesting... I'll pick up a copy when I can"

Gets along well with Ayaka as well, they both appreciate the arts and such so they talk about that

"In Mondstadt we don't have nearly as many festivals as they do in Inazuma... but when we do they're quite the occasion, and very dear to people's hearts. There would be rioting in the streets if the Windblume Festival was postponed..."

"Oh Mond has its fair share of dance traditions, but they fell to be a staple of the Lawrence rule, so not many traditional dances remain... although if you wish to learn more about them you could ask Kaeya to introduce you to the Knight's Recconacance Captain. She doesn't like me very much"

Is the one person who actually doesn't realize that Kaeya is anxious All The Time, literally could watch him shake uncontrollably as Venti walks by and think it was his Vision acting up, he has all the pieces to put the puzzle together but has lost interest in it

Xingqiu

Top ten reasons the party gets sidetracked, number one: Xingqiu finding a book and getting so into it that he doesn't notice people

Actually besties with Ayaka he thinks she's really cool!

Top ten reasons why Kaeya actually gets to sleep as long as he does, number one: Xingqiu jumping up and yanking Diluc's hair when he tries to wake him up

"You're 22 you can go get breakfast by yourself, my leige"

Infodumps about his books to the whole party while they're eating dinner regardless of if they're listening or not (they are, they always are)

Pulls out relevant trivia out of nowhere?? Like they'll be stuck in some ruins and Xingqiu just

"Hey, you know this specific style of ruins are known to be built with metal hatches that always lead to escape routes :)"

Or like

"Oh yeah, the coloration in the animals is different here because the plants in Inazuma so often have purple and blue pigmentation, and Inazuma is so naturally isolated, that the animals adapted to get their pigments partially from the foliage!"

And no one knows how or why he knows this much but he Does??

Also, knows everyone's favorite bird for some reason and talks about them, why? Idk I think he'd like birds!!

"A peacock? Oh, I've never even seen one of those! I hear they're lovely, but a little noisy. Sometimes we get feathers imported for design reference at the Feyun Commerce Guild though!"

"Umbertail Falcon, right? Ohh I hear they can be very loyal, right? Ahh, so that's why yours flys down to check in on you? That's lovely! Owls? Oh yeah, those are cool birds, you know their feathers are fanned out just right so they're entirely silent while flying!"

"Herons? Oh yeah, that's what your title is, right? Graceful... I think they're more stealthy, very good at waiting to strike. That's how they hunt, you know? Just being patient and stealthy, then striking. That's also why they're so graceful standing there all the time!"

Bummed that he's the only person in the party without a bird as his constellation tbh, but he's alright with it because he's got books!!

Mentioned Albedo and Kaeya almost choked on his food, Xingqiu thought this was hilarious

Routinely plays pranks on Diluc and occasionally manages to pull a deez joke on Kaeya, leaves Ayaka alone with the pranks though because he knows she's new to all of this

Ayaka

Oh this poor girl, Lumine just dropped her off with Mondstadt's most dysfunctional siblings and a kid who reads at the speed of light and said have fun

Really gets along well with Xingqiu!! Having someone with a somewhat similar background is definitely a relief, especially because Kaeya and Diluc intimidate her, what with them arguing most of the time they interact

She recognizes the anxiety in Kaeya (because she also has it) so she's a little more comfortable approaching him because of that

She's happy to talk about Inazuma's ruins and is fascinated by Kaeya bringing up similar ruins in Mondstadt and Liyue

She really appreciates him remembering what she's interested in and making time in the day for it!

Diluc on the other hand?? She has... some idea how to talk to him? But?? He is either aggressive or glaring off into the distance at all times, and she's been around long enough to know that he doesn't mean to be like that but it's still unnerving to her

However, she Can talk to him! She is still a little confused because he constantly sounds so grumpy, but she's realized that he's actually really good at listening, and is absolutely willing to talk about Mondstadt traditions! Because she does really like to learn about other nations

Plus, she can go to Xingqiu to answer most of her questions!

"Xingqiu, I- I hope this isn't an odd question, but ah... how exactly do you get used to Kaeya and Diluc? I don't think I've quite figured it out yet..?"

"So in Liyue... the Merchant stalls are on the docks? Like Ritou but it's all on the docks? Interesting..."

"You're the second born of the Feyun Commerce Guild? Oh! Forgive me, I thought you were the eldest, my brother handles most international relations..."

It was really hard for her to adjust to the team, just because of how ragtag it is most of the time, but she's got it by now!

She actually kind of likes the scrappy chaos! She hasn't completely gotten used to it all but she finds it like kind of a break from having to uphold her image at all times

Top five Ayaka quotes and who she said them to:

"They fight a wolf ghost every week...?? Are they ok??" (To Kaeya, about the Andrius team)

"So this is Morax's old... dragon friend...??" (To Xingqiu)

"Wait, you do this every week?" (To Diluc, about the domains)

"Oh!! Oh it is spicy!!!" (To Xingqiu, about Xiangling's cooking)

"Ah... OH! Yes um I uh- *gay hand flip* ?? Is that right??" (Xingqiu was talking about Chongyun)

Also the party went to Dragonspine and Ayaka was actually really interested in Durin because she didn't know that other nations also had odd giant dragon skeletons

#genshin impact #genshin kaeya #kaeya albrich #genshin diluc #diluc ragnvindr #genshin xingqiu #genshin ayaka #kamisato ayaka #please disregard any msitakes I am so tired I just wanted to write sometehing #gonna post my school doodles in my sketchbook on the art blog later probably anyway #kaeya has anxiety diluc seems mad xingqiu is stable and ayaka is confused that's it that's the post

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commonwealthoccurences · 3 years

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NickxDanse HCs

Request: Ooh ooh! For Pride, maybe some Danse/Nick hcs, post Blind Betrayal?? Love your blog and take all the time in the world to rest and get everything under control! <3 <3

Danse and Nick’s relations start off rocky to say the least

Of course, Danse rubs Nick the wrong way when they first meet, and Danse is still naive in the way he thinks he’s got everything figured out, spouting Brotherhood ideology laced with venom in his tone

Who can blame Nick when he side-eyes Sole for the longest time for bringing Danse around

And it's hard to blame him when Sole breaks the news that Danse has moved to Sanctuary because the Brotherhood soldier, ahem ex-Brotherhood soldier, has turned out to be a synth, and Nick struggles not to laugh

It's not meant to be mean-spirited, really, but karmas a bitch

After a long talk with Sole he agrees to try to get along with Danse again; he’s reluctant, because he’s endured a lot of bitterness and outright violence aimed at him because of his synth-status and sometimes it gets exhausting being the forgiving one, but something tells him to try

And so eventually Sole brings Danse along with them to Diamond City; he needs to get out of Sanctuary, they insist, and know his way around the Commonwealth

While Sole’s shopping for supplies and stopping in to see friends they’ve made, Danse is dropped off on Nick’s doorstep wondering just how complicated his life would get

To Nick’s surprise, despite the awkward beginnings where Danse fumbles with where to put his coat and folds into himself once they sit, Danse starts conversation first

And the ex-soldier looks him in the eye and apologises, admits he has no excuse, and takes full accountability for his actions without expecting forgiveness

Nick has to admit, he’s shocked by this

He fully expected to see the soldier he met before, full of smugness, insist that it wasn’t his fault, that he didn’t know better

In that moment Nick’s far more inclined to give him a second chance

Eventually the two begin a serious discussion about Nick’s experiences in the Commonwealth and how Danse might want to navigate things, both on a survival basis and as a synth

If Danse cries a little, Nick pretends not to notice and instead sprinkles in thinly veiled encouragements and praise for making it this far

Post-Blind-Betrayal Danse is a lot quieter than Brotherhood-Danse

Nick notices that he listens far more than he used to, and that’s another point to indicate that he’s definitely changed

Of course, no one changes overnight, and he does see Danse tense every time he compares the two of them, every time he mentions Danse is a synth

But Nick doesn’t bring it up, knows that Danse has just begun his journey to being a new person

They end the conversation and Danse seems to want to say something, but bites his tongue, and instead, thanks him as he shrugs on his jacket

A few days pass by and Nick finds himself worrying about Danse’s emotional status

Maybe that’s a little ridiculous, considering he knows he owes the man nothing, but he’s had the rugged ripped out from under him and Nick knows how lost he was when he first entered the Wasteland

Ellie walks in on him packing his things into his travel bag, grumbling to himself about how he’s too old to be worrying about people, too old to be dealing with situations like this

She simply pats him on the back as she passes; as much as she’d like to ask, few things get Nick worked up and she’s sure she’ll be hearing about it later, when he’s ready to talk about it

Nick treks to Sanctuary, something extremely rare for him despite knowing Sole since they first emerged from the vault, and makes sure to check in on Sole first

They’re delighted to see him, as they always are, and take a small break from their busy schedule to give him some updates on the progress they’ve made

He’s grateful they brought up Danse first; “Would you mind popping in on Danse?”

They’re ready to make a case for themself, complete with pleading if they have to, when Nick readily agrees

They try to mask the surprise on their face, but instead direct him to their home

When Nick walks in Danse is sat in a wooden chair looking out the window, eyes on the sky

Nick’s not even sure he’s there mentally, with how blank Danse’s gaze looks

He takes a moment to pause in the doorway and knock on the doorframe; Danse startles out of his daze and greets Nick with a surprised, “Good afternoon.”

Once again, the start of their conversation is awkward, but eventually, they begin to talk about how Danse is settling in to Commonwealth life

The minutes flash into hours far faster than expected, and soon, Sole is arriving home after evening has bled into night

They join the conversation and segway into something more lighthearted, stories of Nick and them traveling and the antics they’ve gotten up to, while they make dinner for themself and Danse

There’s something comforting to the situation, both to Danse and Nick; Danse feels as if he might finally have found a space where he fits in the Commonwealth

Nick gets up to leave and Sole begins a long battle of trying to convince him to stay overnight

He’s half heartedly arguing with them until Danse looks up, face worn with the need for sleep, fingers propping up his jaw, and he simply says “Stay.”

Suddenly Nick’s got his files sprawled across their coffee table and he’s working while they sleep

These visits turn from a couple times a month, to once a week, to a reliable weekend stay

Nick discovers that the incessant Brotherhood ideology hid just how intelligent Danse was, and Danse discovers that Nick is possibly one of the most interesting people around

And despite the fact that they can talk for hours about anything under the sun, comparing opinions (Nick’s fascinated by how differently Danse’s life was and sue him, he enjoys watching Danse’s new viewpoints and personality form as they talk), oftentimes they’re found working in silence

Nick brings his files with him over the weekend and Danse takes to sewing, so they often work side-by-side without speaking, with Diamond City Radio playing low in the background

Sometimes Nick needs a new perspective for cases and asks for Danse’s help

Danse enjoys this far more than he initially expected to; Nick notices and invites him along on one of his cases

Danse became much more of a recluse once he moved to Sanctuary, and Nick reckons getting back into the world will do him some good

And he can’t deny that having some heavily-trained backup is an upside

They leave a concerned Sole behind in Sanctuary and take off South to work on a case

It’s an easy one, theoretically, but it leaves them camped overnight in the fields of the Commonwealth

Danse had insisted he didn’t need rest from the point when Nick brought it up to when he was barely still able to walk from how exhausted he was; needless to say, Nick won that argument

However, it was easy to see his Brotherhood training was still heavily ingrained in him. How could it not be?

Despite falling asleep sitting up, he was still alert, jumping at every little sound and refusing to let himself relax. His hands were tightened around his gun, his posture perfect despite his exhaustion

Of course, being alert came with living in the Wasteland, and it was nothing new, but there was something sad about the way Danse was behaving

Nick knew that the Brotherhood were assholes, and Danse’s behavior of refusing to show exhaustion, as if that were a sign of weakness and inability, not a fact of life, proved it even more

After a nights rest, in which Nick held very still so as not to wake Danse once he finally fell asleep- sitting up, mind you -they returned to work

After a few days of nightly conversation they’re definitely much closer than before they left

Nick even drew a few laughs from Danse

A couple months pass after that trip and Danse and Sole make one of their now-common trips to see Nick in Diamond City

An advantage to the situation is that Sole and Nick are now closer as well

However while Danse and Nick are catching up at Power Noodles, Danse overhears someone make a sly remark about Nick’s synth status

See, the thing about Danse is without the Brotherhood giving him a set of rules and reactions for every conceivable situation he may encounter, Danse has become a lot more protective over his friends, and a lot more willing to show it

Danse turns and confronts the person, while Nick simply sighs, unimpressed, and it quickly devolves into an argument

It takes just a few moments for Danse to land a punch that breaks the person’s nose, and that’s that

Sole laughs their ass off, considering they’re no stranger to getting into fistfights over the people they care about, and Nick is unimpressed

Sole drags Danse back to Nick’s office, grinning the entire time, and Nick is forced to follow after them, noodles still in hand, to make sure they both know getting into fights on his behalf, especially over something that no longer bothers him, is stupid

The message really doesn’t get through with Danse refusing to even pretend that it wasn’t the right thing to do and Sole egging him on the entire time

“Did you see how good of a punch that was, though?!” “Sole, please. No.”

While Sole’s cleaning Danse’s hand, Nick’s lighting a cigarette

Danse meets Nick’s gaze and, despite the lighthearted glare on the synth’s face, he gives him a quiet smile

Maybe it was a little satisfying to see the idiot get punched

It takes multiple years for the two to get together- there’s a lot of indecision, fears of unrequited feelings, and Sole with their head in their hands begging for them to get their shit together

Of course, there’s something unregrettable about the fact that they become best friends first

Once they do get together, though, it becomes a game to see how long it takes for Sole to notice

Neither one of them is the biggest fan of PDA, especially Danse, so not much about their behavior changes

They even move in together (Danse can’t stand the thought of living in Diamond City- living in close quarters with other people is something he’ll never miss) once Nick decides to live in Sanctuary and Sole still thinks they’re both in denial

In fact, it takes the pair talking about marriage before Sole catches on

There’s a lot of playful fighting and demanding that Sole hears everything they haven’t caught them up on, but at the end of the day, after a long dinner, while Sole and Danse are on the couch munching on a pie Sole made, when they pause their contemplative chewing and announce, “I’m really proud of you both.”

Despite his usual hesitancy, Danse reaches out and squeezes Nick’s hand and gives him a soft smile, a silent ‘I’m proud of us, too’

Sole’s cooing makes him decide to never do that again

#Fallout 4 #Fo4 #Fanfiction #FF #HCs #Headcanons #Nick Valentine #Paladin Danse

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snarkwrites · 3 years

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firstdate | greg sanders ; csi vegas [mature.]

Notes:

So.. this is kind of an AU take on my current CSI Vegas fic, trouble. You do not have to be reading that to read this though. Tis merely filth I wanted to write, from the standpoint that instead of them being thrown together and having to deal with a crazy ass ex... Sara arranges a blind date for them after they’ve met a time or two and she suspects they’re into each other. It’s kind of set around the earlier seasons too.

Ya’ll.. If anyone would rather read THIS VERSION... I’m highkey tempted to maybe write it at some point. Like... Minus all the crazy shit that’s going on in Trouble. It’d just be their run ins and stuff and then them getting together.. anyway.. I had to have this, so ya’ll must now suffer with.

Prompts:

None. Blind date / sex on a kitchen table could be considered, I suppose.

Warnings:

This content is not meant for minors. If you’re under 18+ this is not for your eyes. I warned you very clearly, right here. If you don’t like smut, you’re not going to want to keep reading.

As far as things you need to be aware of if you’re sticking around: unprotected sex ( why is it always my horny ass muses that never remember protection?) body fluids, dry humping in a movie theater...Pretty much it.

Other Stuff:

[ faq - tag list ]

Tagging:

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@twistnet

BLIND DATE.

“Okay. I’m here.” I took a deep breath, reaching for the handle on the doors that led into the movie theater. Taking a second or two to check myself over in the reflection of the glass as I continued to mutter to myself, “I’m here.. Now to see if this mystery guy shows up.”

Just as I went to step into the lobby and out of the rain, I felt a tap to my shoulder from behind. It was around this same time that my eyes locked on Greg Sanders, standing behind me. Flashing me a grin even though he looked just as nervous as I was.

I felt my cheeks start to burn under his intent gaze.

We’d only spoken a few times, mostly when I popped in to bring my sister food during her shift and on my break from dancing at the club. And those few times had been… Intense. To say the least.

There was definitely underlying tension between us. A heavy pull to him.

I’d never actually told my sister this, of course.

Which was interesting considering Sara was the one who set up this whole blind date for the night.

“Belle, hi.”

“Greg, hey.” my teeth caught on my lip and I turned to face him. He seemed to remember the single red rose in his hand and chuckling quietly, he held it out. I took it, smiling as I passed it under my nose.

He reached around me, his arm brushing right against my side as he pulled the door to the lobby open, letting me step inside. Stepping inside behind me.

,, I owe my sister for this. More importantly, how did she know? Does this mean he’s hinted about being interested in me, I wonder?” my mind was working overtime. My mouth wasn’t quite keeping up with it, because I wanted to ask just to clarify that I’d somehow managed to luck into Greg being my blind date tonight, but the words were stuck in my throat. I mean, logically it had to be him, he’d given me the deep blood red rose I held in my hand.

“So…” I finally managed a word. A weak one, but still a word. Greg chuckled. His eyes roamed over me slowly. Subtly. But not subtle enough that I didn’t know he’d just checked me out. He stepped closer as a crowd of noisy teenagers all decked out as characters from the horror movie I intended to see rushed past. His hands settled on my arms to hold me steady. I stepped closer to him. Flashed a teasing grin.

“Are you sure you’re up for this? I mean it’s a horror marathon.” I asked. Greg smirked, shrugging. The movement called attention to broad shoulders and I stared at him entirely too hard for a few seconds.

Like an absolute moron.

“ I’ll be fine. Are you sure you’re going to be okay though. Sara told me that you like horror movies in theory, not so much in reality.” Greg flashed a teasing smirk of his own. One of us stepped closer. Our bodies brushed right against each other and the end result was this electric jolt shooting through my entire body at lightning speed.

I pretended to pout. Walking my fingers up the front of his faded gray t-shirt. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m not alone tonight then, hm?” I practically purred. “For the record, I’m not that bad.” I gave a soft smirk, nodding to the line that was growing rapidly across the lobby for the movie we’d chosen as I grabbed his hand and started to make my way over to the end of the line.

I smirked a little as my eyes settled on our reflection in the plexiglass surrounding the ticket window and I could see the way he towered over me just slightly from behind. And yeah, maybe I couldn’t resist stepping back into him just a little. Enough so that our bodies kept contact. My smirk only grew as I saw him swallow hard. His hands settled on my hips.

And to anyone around us, we probably looked more like a couple out on a date than two people who barely knew each other on a blind date.

We’d gotten our tickets. Playfully arguing back and forth over the fact that I paid my own way as we drifted into the concessions area and got into line for snacks. I found myself drawn to the guy like a magnet, pressing myself back into him as we stood in line.

Snacks in hand, we started to make our way to the theater showing our movies. My hand found his, my fingers lacing through.

“I don’t really do the blind date thing often.. My sister didn’t like… guilt you into this, did she?” I had to ask just before we stepped into the room cloaked in darkness. Greg chuckled, raising a hand. Dragging it through spiky hair as he smirked down at me. “I was about to ask you if she guilted you into agreeing…”

We shared a laugh and my back hit the wall next to the door softly. Greg’s hand rested palm down against the wall, just beside my head as he gazed down at me. Intently. Like he wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure how to go about saying it.

And then, finally… he did.

“I would’ve asked you myself, you know.” Greg chuckled quietly. This news had my mouth opening and closing as my brain tried to catch up to what he was essentially saying. I found myself pressing against him a little more. “You would, hm?” escaping my mouth as a quiet purr as he stared down at me and bit his lip, swallowing hard again and nodding.

“Mhm. I was actually going to. The next time you came into the station.”

I licked my lips, tilting my head slightly as I looked up at him. Toying with the front of his shirt as I continued to try and process what he was getting at. Stunned, because I’d never really thought that he felt the magnetism I felt. I’d actually had myself convinced that it was purely one sided. Or that he’d never actually be interested in me.

“I would have said yes.”

This time, he was pressing into me. Harder. I took a shaky breath, my eyes settling on his mouth. And then the flash of something in his eyes. The goofy smirk as his other hand squeezed my hip.

“I didn’t think you liked me.” Greg licked his lips, eyes drifting down to mine, settling on them. The end result was me, taking a few more shaky breaths.

If the lingering tension between us was thick before, it was downright smothering now.

But so was the excitement. And the sense of right. Calm. Like tonight at least, I was exactly where I needed to be.

“Honestly, same.” I answered, both of us sharing a laugh again.

My sister had managed to play both of us. The thought sank in. I made a mental note to really, really, really… Thank her for it later.

A throat clearing behind us had us laughing and disappearing into the darkened theater. We chose a seat in the back row and settled in. His arm slipped around the back of my seat and I leaned against him a little, our eyes meeting.

The theater went even darker and the opening scene of the movie began to play. Almost instantly, as the grainy black and white opening shot of Dr. Wolfenstein’s opening speech began, I dove my head down after a quiet shriek.

As quiet as one gets.

“What the fuck have I gotten myself into?” I wondered in a whisper against his neck, making him laugh. But pull away and look at me. “If you wanna leave, we can…”

“Oh no. No, I’m determined to prove my sister wrong. I can handle this.” I took a deep breath. Greg leaned in, whispering against the shell of my ear, “If it’s too scary..”

The look in his eyes as mine met them gave away clearly what he didn’t say. I nodded, filing away the suggestion. Then the body count started to rise. And what he’d told me came rushing to the front of my mind.

“Fuck fuck fuck. Fuck.”

“Hey Belle.” Greg muttered, making me look up at him. When I did, he gently gripped my jawline, guiding my mouth against his, the taste of soda and m&m’s and popcorn mingling as his tongue trailed over mine, tangling with it and taking total control of the kiss, catching me by surprise just a little bit because honestly, if I’d imagined kissing him, I was usually more of the aggressor.. I wound up turning to the side in my chair slightly, deepening the kiss. Slipping my legs into his lap as his arm settled over them.

That huge group of teenagers had pretty much abandoned ship twenty minutes in just when the movie was starting to get a little too gory because the girl dressed as Baby was full on sobbing and begging to leave.

We basically had the theater to ourselves at this point.

And that heavy tension?

Only getting hotter. Heavier with each second that passed.

It wasn’t long until my legs across his lap wasn’t easy or convenient for either of us. Greg chuckled as a particularly deep and intense kiss broke and we pulled away to breathe a little.

The movie was all but ignored by now.

Merely background noise at this point.

I spotted the weak beam of an usher’s flashlight and devolved into a fit of giggles, muttering against Greg’s neck quietly, “We’ve got an usher. Let me just face the front really quick.. They usually make a round and they’re done. Unless… you like the thrill of almost getting caught in compromising positions...” I flashed a teasing grin, a soft giggle leaving my lips as soon as I saw him turn just a shade red beneath the dim lighting.

I straightened myself in my seat and took a few long and shaky deep breaths to attempt even beginning to calm myself down.

That damage was done already. I was… beyond wet. A dripping mess at this point. Everything just felt so much more intense. Intimate. The way his hands felt all over me. The way it felt to kiss him to the point where we were both dizzy and needed to breathe but also, didn’t want the kiss to end.

“Do I want to know what that meant?” Greg chuckled. A teasing grin as we found ourselves staring at each other again. Still trying to catch our breath from the deep and heavy kiss ended abruptly just seconds before.

I raised a brow. “What? Like you never purposely chose a boring movie and the back row of the theater in high school? Half the fun is in only just barely managing not to get caught...” I trailed off and gaped at Greg in disbelief when I could tell by the look on his face that he had no idea what I was talking about.

And there I went, falling just a little more.

“I,uh.. It wasn’t ever really a big issue, no.” Greg laughed quietly, shaking his head. “ To be fair, I wasn’t ever Mr. Popular, either.”

I giggled, raising my hand to my mouth to stop the sound. “No. Noooo.” but the whole admission was so sweet the attraction I had to him before grew even more.

“You’re not serious.” I asked in a whisper as the usher finally made their way past us and out of the theater again.

He leaned down in his chair a little, leaning into me. Muttering against the shell of my ear, “I am, actually.” as he gave me almost a sheepish look.

“Jesus. Were girls at your school fucking blind or…?” I questioned, locking eyes with him all over again. The way his cheeks turned just a shade red beneath the dim overhead lighting only turned me on more than it should have. I glanced around the theater and then at the door behind us.

Spotting absolutely no one, I smirked. Greg eyed me, a brow raised as I slipped out of my chair and into his lap, facing him. Leaning down, catching hold of his jaw, tilting his face upward as I leaned mine in closer. Muttering against his mouth, “We have to change that. Like.. that’s an epic wrong that has to be righted, sir.”

Greg shifted in his seat and his legs spread slightly to give himself a little more room and to catch me if I started to slip off his lap, I guess. When he did this, I could feel him starting to strain against his jeans and I rocked myself right over it, burying my mouth in his even deeper to stop myself from moaning too loudly.

“Okay, so how does this work exactly?” he mumbled in a hushed and husky whisper against my mouth as his tongue swept past my lips, finding mine all over again. Gazing up at me. One of his hands going to my ass, squeezing. His other hand skimming up and down my side. I nearly whimpered again when he used the grip on my hip to rock me over the way he strained at his jeans harder. Pressing me down into him, sending a dull throb through my dripping sex.

My teeth latched onto his bottom lip, sucking. I rocked myself against him, baring down against his lap harder but it wasn’t enough. “It would’ve worked better if I’d worn a dress but trust me.. You know exactly what you’re doing.” I muttered as the soft smacks of our mouths meeting over and over again shattered the silence around us.

“Not really. Not when it comes to this...” he insisted. His fingers dug into my ass and his other hand tangled in my hair. He bucked himself against me when he shifted around in the seat a little. I gasped, my fingers digging into his shoulder, rocking against him just a little more. Hoping to ease the dull throb I was really starting to feel.

We pulled away to breathe again and I leaned against him, muttering against his ear, “For a guy who says he hasn’t made out in the back row of a theater before, you definitely know how to make a girl wet.” as I tried to collect myself. Tried and failed.

My words seemed to make him snap. He was shifting me around in his lap so that I pressed against the bulge strained hard against his jeans. The hand in my hair drifted down, disappearing between us. Settling flat against my throbbing cunt. Massaging clumsily because we had limited space to work with.

Our mouths met all over again with a ferocity that had me blown away. In awe. I’d always kind of considered that Greg was handsome. Quiet. Sweet.

I’d never really… Imagined he possessed the side he was showing me right now. Somehow, I got the feeling I was one of very few people -possibly the only one but i didn’t dare hope, who might have ever even seen this side of him and that thought turned me on even more.

“How wet, exactly?” Greg questioned, his gaze meeting mine. By now, any thoughts I’d previously entertained about actually watching the movies I’d paid to see was… A fleeting and distant memory.

I wanted him.

Hands and mouth all over me. Tearing my clothes off. Buried inside me.

“Fuck.” I writhed around in his lap. Desperate for more friction. Anything to ease the steady throb. The divine torment that was his hands all over my body. I reached down, grabbing hold of his hand. Guiding it back against my aching sex. He took a ragged breath when he felt the way I was just starting to soak through skin tight black jeans. Our faces bumped at one point, making us pull away to laugh. Getting lost in each other’s eyes all over again.

“Ya know, we’re not really watching this…” I mused, trailing my tongue gently over the outline of his mouth. Smirking when I felt him shiver and heard him mutter a barely audible “Fuck” under his breath as he gripped me harder and took a few shaky breaths.

“We’re not.” Greg agreed, a distracted hum as his hands roamed all over me. One disappeared beneath my shirt and I barely managed to bury my mouth against his fast enough to stifle the moan that got swallowed by the kiss when I felt his hand cup my breast, squeezing.

“We could leave.” I muttered as my lips ghosted down the side of his neck and I rocked and rubbed against the way he strained at his jeans all over again. Urgently.

The suggestion had him standing. Not bothering to untangle me from his body. My legs circled his waist, squeezing as he carried me out the door and then out a side exit of the theater since it was well past closing hours by this point.

The entire trip across the parking lot had us kissing, the kiss only breaking once we’d reached my car and I had to dig around in my pockets for my keys. Finding them in my jacket pocket, I slipped them into his hand after unlocking the car. Greg opened the passenger door, setting me down in the passenger seat. I pulled him down, his mouth meeting mine all over again. His hand settling between my thighs. Growling into the kiss as he rubbed my aching core.

“Greg, get me out of here.” I moaned against his neck as I rocked against the palm of his hand. He shivered slightly as my mouth dragged over the area, latching on lazily. Breaking the kiss to pull away and lock eyes with me.

“Your apartment or mine?”

“Honestly, whichever one is closer?” I pleaded, beyond desperate to be alone with him. He nodded, stepping away, shutting the passenger door to my car. I buckled my seatbelt, letting out a whimper to myself in the silence of my car as I watched him sprint around the front of it to get into the driver seat.

Once he was inside I was doing my best to lean across the console, our mouths meeting in another frenzied and deep kiss. My mouth strayed, roaming down the side of his neck, leaving another small mark behind. He groaned, tilting my chin. Making me look up at him. Giving me a teasing smirk as he asked in awe, “What am I gonna do with you, hm?”

“Whatever you want.” I answered, licking my lips as I held his gaze. His smirk only grew as he muttered thoughtfully, “Whatever I want is a pretty broad answer.”

“I meant it too.” I whispered softly as my mouth danced down the side of his neck all over again, making him shiver once more.

“I didn’t even know my neck was a hot spot.” he chuckled as he started to pull out of the parking lot.

By the time we were parking outside of my apartment, I couldn’t take another second. He killed the engine and I unbuckled my seatbelt, slipping over the console and into his lap. Reaching down beside the seat to let it back a little bit further.

He grabbed hold of my hips, rocking me against him as he pulled me closer. Bucking up into me from below as the tips of his fingers dug into my lower back and my ass. His mouth capturing mine in a frenzied kiss that he took complete control of, surprising me all over again. He leaned into me, putting my back right against the wheel of my car, making us both laugh when I accidentally pressed right against the horn and the noise shattered the softer sounds of our kissing and we wound up jumping apart.

Taking deep breaths. Trying to get ourselves under control even though we both knew it was a little too late for that.

His hand caressed my cheek as we leaned against each other heavily. My hand trailed over his chest, settling palm down against it. Fingers curling in the fabric of his button up. Itching to grasp and tug and send buttons scattering as I tore his clothes off.

Everything was so very intense. Vivid.

And yet, soft. Gentle. Intimate.

“Okay, if we don’t move this inside, my nosy neighbor is going to get an eye full.” I half muttered, ghosting my lips against Greg’s mouth. Making him grip me tighter. Nodding. He got out of the driver seat, sprinting around the front of the car. Throwing open the door on my side and leaning in, scooping me up as if I were light as a feather.

Oh, I had no doubt he was stronger than he made himself seem, but something about the way he did it and the little chuckle and smirk on his face as he did so had me soaked through in seconds.

My back met my front door with a soft smack and Greg was pressing into me heavily as he tried to be smooth and put the key in the lock without breaking our kissing and touching. Drawing a needy whine and a pout from me when he had to stop. Unlock the door.

He stepped inside my apartment, taking a minute to close and lock the front door behind him. Stepping over to the kitchen table, sitting me on top of it. My hands settled on his shirt and I tugged it apart, sending buttons to spray and settle on the flooring. He gripped the bottom of my shirt, pulling it up over my head, tossing it out into the room behind him.

With a quiet rip, my bra settled on the floor near my shirt and his shirt. My hand slipped down between us, fumbling with the button and then the zipper of his jeans as he started to work my jeans and panties down my legs. I let my heels settle on the floor with a quiet thud and kicked my jeans and panties free at the ankle and Greg grumbled about having to break the deepening frenzy of kisses to step away and pull off his shoes. He kicked his jeans and boxers free and stepped back into me.

My legs circled his waist, squeezing against. My arms wrapped around his neck and I gasped softly as our bodies molded together. The contrast, the way he felt pressed against me. Skin against skin. It was enough to take my breath away. His hands skimmed my sides, settling on my thighs. Squeezing as he slipped me forward on the table even more. Burying his mouth in mine all over again with a quiet growl.

Teeth scraping against my bruised and swollen lips as his tongue separated them. Sinking his cock into me carefully. Slowly. Going still to let me adjust. His mouth latching onto my neck as he left the first of quite a few sizable marks behind on my skin. His grip on my hips tightening as he pumped in and out of me, a little faster. Slowing down when he felt me starting to shake a little and melt into him.

Tilting my chin as he mumbled softly, “This is not how I saw tonight going.”

“Me either.” I gasped, gripping his jaw, pulling his mouth against mine as my legs clenched his sides and my heels dug into his ass, driving his cock into me even deeper, making him strike directly against my spot. Sending a shiver racing through me that had him smirking against my mouth. Slamming into me all over again as he questioned, “You liked that, hm?”

“Yes.” I moaned out, my head falling back as my eyes fluttered open and shut and I tried to fight off a fast approaching orgasm.

Greg slowed to a stop, his hands and mouth all over me. Touching and kissing every patch of skin he could get his hands and mouth on. Locking eyes with me as he mumbled quietly, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Have you seen a mirror, sir?” I purred as my mouth crashed against his and I tried to rock my hips to meet his deep drives, eager to get off. His hands squeezed my hips, bringing my movements to a halt as the kiss broke and we pulled away to breathe. He leaned down, his forehead settling against mine as he caressed my face. “Not yet.”

I pouted, pleading. “Please?” I gasped out as he started to fuck into me all over again. Slower. More deliberately.

His grip on my body almost bruising and yet still somehow gentle. Careful.

“I’m not made of glass baby. Harder. Please?” I begged breathlessly. He slammed into me harder. Deeper. Groaning against my skin, “You feel so good. So good.”

“Greg!” my cry pierced the air as he muttered against my mouth, “Fuck… Belle. Baby, let go.” and he didn’t have to tell me a second time because as his hips snapped against me frantically and he buried even deeper inside, I went smashing over the edge, my orgasm ripping through me, making me cling to him and try to come down from the high, clenching his cock, flooding it. Which sent him straight into his own orgasm, throbbing and filling me up. Pulling away to stare at me before burying his mouth in mine until the kiss was so deep we were both dizzy.

“You don’t have to leave tonight…” I asked hopefully. He chuckled and shook his head. “No. Do you want me to stay, Belle?”

“Very much so.” I melted against him, giving a sleepy smile as I went in for another kiss....

#greg sanders fanfiction #greg sanders one shot #greg sanders imagine #greg sanders fanfic #greg sanders oneshot #greg sanders imagines #my writing ; greg sanders #my fanfics ; greg sanders #my one shots ; greg sanders #my fics ; greg sanders #my fanfiction ; greg sanders #// absolutely no one under 18+. this is not for minors #// tw unprotected s*x #// tw body fluids #// tw dry humping

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lovetenya · 3 years

Text

𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬: 𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰

pairing: tenya iida x gn! reader

warnings: angst. anxiety. paranoia. self doubt. unkind words. non-explicit mentions of physical pain & scarring. implied death, but i don’t elaborate. lying. worrying.

word count: about 1.8k

author’s note: nobody writes any iida angst, (barely anyone writes for him at all) and as a vehement lover of angst, i thought i’d fill that gap. i love tenya, i really do, but i love to think about him in this way just as much as i love to believe he’d be the perfect other half. nobody is perfect, not even ingenium.

loving tenya iida is yellow.

it’s the color of the petals on the soft yellow daisy bouquet that he surprised you with on the night of your first anniversary. although it wasn’t a last minute purchase (how could he forget the best day of his life?), he still wasn’t exactly sure what to get.

what kind of object can symbolize a love so encapsulating?, he thought. there is no tangible item that could possibly show how i feel.

he picked up the familiar flowers from a shop on the corner that the two of you had walked past before on a date. it was one of the first ones, and you pressed your face against the glass to get a better look at the delicate flowers inside.

he caught himself in his romantics when he thought that none of them were prettier than you. nothing was or ever would be better than this moment, where you were on your tip toes in an attempt to see more flowers. that day, he insisted on buying you a small bouquet of yellow daisies, and thought it would be sweet to indulge and revisit the memory.

the week before your anniversary, he made you promise not to execute any elaborate celebratory plans.

“honey, you know that I’d rather do nothing with you than anything with anyone else,” he said. and he was serious. he would rather sit together on the couch half-listening to a documentary (because you can’t keep your eyes off each other) than go out to dinner, where he couldn’t let down his guard.

although he liked to think that his work made the world a safer place, he couldn’t help but feel paranoid whenever you were out in public. how could he be sure that someone in the restaurant didn’t want him dead? how could he be sure that they wouldn’t kidnap and kill you just to make him suffer? if he couldn’t be sure, was it worth the risk?

he’s an iida, after all. with their striking looks and long hero legacy, it’s not exactly easy to blend in in a world whose wellbeing depends on your greatness and ability. there’s a great sense of pride in coming from a long lines of heroes, and his parents were much less than thrilled to receive the phone call that tenya was in the hospital following the incident that rendered his arm “useless”. they weren’t happy to see that he chose to leave his arm that way as a reminder of his dedication.

when they figured he was out of earshot, they asked questions.

did the doctors check for any mental ailments?

will he ever be able to use his arm again?

why didn’t they amputate?

what kind of hero accepts a physical wound and doesn’t try to heal?

what kind of hero goes after a villain on their own?

are you sure he’s cut out to be a hero?

tenya isn’t proud of the publicity his family got following the incident including a certain self-proclaimed hero killer. he isn’t proud of the wary stares he gets from his classmates. he isn’t proud of the violence he’s been forced to commit. he isn’t proud of any of it, really, but he doesn’t regret his actions; not for a second, not even when he’s painstakingly rubbing scar balm into his shoulder, hoping that at least the scars would fade.

the pain, which seeped deep into his muscles and pricked at his bones, was more than just a cosmetic concern. he couldn’t care less about a scar, but with his limited movement capabilities, he knew he’d never be able to teach his sons to throw. the doctors didn’t have to tell him that. but, of course, they did. he knew what it all meant. he saw through their sugarcoating and attempts at softening the blow. they should’ve known better.

although he’s now your tenya, he was a hero first.

before there was you, there was responsibility. before there was love and devotion, there were hero duties and combat instincts. they’re ingrained into his mind, refusing to be ignored. even when things seem fine, he can’t help but make sure. he couldn’t live with himself if his laziness were to cause someone else’s pain. that isn’t what heroes do. when you’re in public, he’s constantly scanning the room and won’t sit with his back to a door or window, because he needs to be able to see who’s coming and going. he has to make sure that everything is fine. he has to make sure everyone is safe, and everything is put-together.

he has to be strong, because there are thousands of people counting on him. he has to be strong, because evil doesn’t rest. he has to be strong, because... if not him, then who?

the day of your anniversary, you texted tenya while he was at work.

you: i hope you have a great day, my love! i can’t wait until you get home so we can celebrate! <3!!

tenya: I can’t wait either! I love you very much, sweetheart. See you later.

he came home with his arms full of the bouquet of flowers, and almost teared up at the sight of the dinner you had set up for the two of you. you always considered every worry, every caution, every gut feeling of his, and he appreciated that more than he’d ever be able to express. no words did it justice.

you’re more than his other half, you’re his everything. you’re everything he needs, everything he can’t be, and more.

you surprised him with an at-home dinner date, where it was perfectly safe and calm, and there were no people hiding in the shadows. music softly played in the background, and the daisies looked perfect on the table.

it’s okay, tenya, you reminded him. you’re home now.

yellow is tenya’s birthday present, or the envelope holding it at least.

there are only so many thoughtful gifts you can give before the inspiration simply runs out, and you have to go bigger. you have to look forward, and think of what will really leave a mark on someone’s life. you only have so many chances to get it right.

one year, for his birthday, you got him the deed to a recently-discovered star and named it after him. a star for your star. your guide in the dark. your light in unimaginable darkness. your ever-present warmth.

many years later, when tenya is long gone, his star sparkles a little brighter.

through the telescope, he seems to be waving hello.

golden yellow is the promise ring that you have no idea how tenya afforded.

you insist he take it back and that neither of you are ready for the commitment, but he refuses, of course.he’s never been more ready for something in his life. he tells you,

“i got it for you because you’re worth it.

every day with you is worth it.

i never want to spent another day of my life without promising to love you every second of every day.

every time you wear this ring, you’ll be reminded of how much i love you.

i saved for months, anticipating this very moment when i’d get to promise myself to you forever.

i promise, you deserve it.

you deserve everything, and i can’t wait to give it to you.”

and you did deserve it. and you deserve him, in all of his glory. forever.

the harsh bruises littering his chiseled body are yellow at first. they turn purple, eventually, before they fade away completely. their sting, however, is more than just the pain of broken blood vessels. they’re a concrete reminder that tenya isn’t untouchable. he isn’t invincible. he’s human, and he bleeds red.

the bruises come when his instincts send him in the wrong direction, when he dodged too late, or when he couldn’t seem to land a kick. he tells you that they’re from when he “tripped going down the stairs” or when izuku “accidentally punched him too hard during a training session.” (lies.)

yellow is the embarrassment you feel when you confront izuku, pleading with him to be more careful with tenya, and he tells you that he couldn’t have possibly caused those bruises, because hasn’t seen iida outside of class in weeks. nobody has. he’s been training more than usual, and hasn’t been at group dinners.

yellow is the sickness and guilt you feel at the realization, because you recently teased iida for not getting his homework done. he smiled weakly, pretending like it was just a foolish slip-up. it was so unlike him, you couldn’t help but poke a little fun.

“ooooh!!! class representative iida tenya, professional stick in the mud, didnt complete his populations analysis essay on time??? somebody call the news outlets!!! or an ambulance, because i think i might die from shock!!!”

he couldn’t blame you for your ignorance, because he liked that you didn’t know. you didn’t know how tired he was. you didn’t know how hard he was pushing himself. you didn’t know how hard he was working. you didn’t know how close he was to breaking. nobody did, and he liked it that way. nobody wants to see their leader falter, or hesitate, or fail, so he didn’t let them.

while he didn’t like to make you wait, he especially didn’t like to make you worry, and he figured the best way to do that was to keep it all in. he was supposed to be an upstanding hero, worthy of admiration and inspiring greatness in all, but at the end of the day, your opinion of him mattered the most.

in his mind, he was supposed to be your hero. and he tried, with every fiber of his being, to be your everything.

he was supposed to keep you safe, not keep you up at night, wondering if this morning was the last time you’d get to kiss him goodbye. he’s supposed to come home to you, and he promised, even though he couldn’t be sure, that he would. he didn’t want to lie about that.

his lies are yellow. they’re made with hope of protecting you, with keeping you safe from the evil swirling through the world.

what you don’t know can’t hurt you, right?

...right?

they’re made with intentions filled with sunshine and his golden gaze when you’re supposed to be studying, but the temptation is too strong.

his intentions are filled with the colored pencils scattered on the floor of his dorm room from when you sketched each other for the first time.

they’re filled with honey coated love, first sweet and satisfying, but eventually leaving you with a sore throat. they leave you feeling his love, but also his lies.

and through it all, you still love him, maybe even to a fault.

even when he’s yellow.

120 notes · View notes

themurphyzone · 3 years

Text

Nova Ch 10

AN: I think that reunion with Snowball went pretty well!

Ch 10: White Dwarves

AO3 Link, FFN Link

Terran Date 2015.4.26

I’m stuck in a backwater lab with an idiot who believes you can transform a rock into gold by spray painting it. Nothing else worth reporting.

o-o-o-o-o

Pinky winced as Brain slammed his hand against the computer mouse, saving the oddly brief recording to the computer. He didn’t bother with his usual sign-off either. Just buried his face between his hands and growled to himself.

Brain had been in a foul mood ever since the tea party, snapping whenever Pinky tried to ask a question and making messes without bothering to clean up after himself. He wasn’t the only one affected by Snowball suddenly leaving. Madame Daisy was still pretty miffed about Snowball’s lack of etiquette when he didn’t say goodbye to the other guests or say thank you to the host. And Brain hadn’t done those either.

Maybe Pinky should’ve warned them about Madame Daisy being a stickler for tea party etiquette.

But more importantly, the deadline for RSVPing was tomorrow at 8 pm and they still hadn’t called Lamont Manor. More than once, Pinky brought it up in conversation and left post-it notes as reminders, but Brain always shut the topic down and shredded the notes into confetti.

It stung when he did that, but Pinky shook it off and saved the itty-bitty scraps. One never knew when they’d need good confetti.

Pinky’s ears twitched towards the cage at the sound of Brain’s groan. Brain had already drained a full water bottle and was steadily working his way through a second. While Pinky was happy his alien friend had gotten used to water, mostly so they could play Marco Polo and waterski with popsicle sticks, maybe there was such a thing as too much water.

“Brain?” Pinky called, nearly slipping on a puddle. He frowned. There were several puddles and no sign of Brain at least trying to keep this side of the cage neat. “Er, don’t you think that’s enough? Awfully hard to sleep if you have to keep getting up for the bathroom.”

“Just leave me alone,” Brain muttered. He sipped from the tube again without taking his glare off Pinky. Water dribbled down his chin.

No, he was absolutely not leaving Brain alone! Pinky stomped his foot, startling Brain when he tried to sneak another drink.

“That’s it!” Pinky shouted. He tugged his ears and released them with a sharp snap. “I’m gonna give you tough love whether you like it or not, mistah!”

Before Brain could react, Pinky snatched him away from the water bottle and tucked him under one arm like he was cradling a football. Brain kicked and squirmed in his grip, trying to smack him with his tail, but Pinky had a firm hold. With his free hand, he pulled a fedora off the coat rack as he marched out of the cage and over to the stereo.

It was a little worn from age, but it still worked alright.

He dropped Brain, who let out a little oomph when his stomach hit the counter. Smacking the play button with his foot, Pinky kept one hand on his fedora as he counted the beats until the main melody began.

“Just say narf! Just say narf!

Don’t you know to be glad? Just say narf!

Every day is a joy and so-”

The music shut off.

Surprised by the lack of background music, Pinky checked behind him, arms still thrown above his head with the fedora hanging from one hand.

Brain stood in front of the stereo, his hand over the stop button. “Just what in Orion’s belt are you trying to accomplish with this display?” he snapped, crossing his arms.

“You’ve been a grumpasaurus rex ever since the tea party! So I’m cheering you up with one of my favorite songs!” Pinky protested.

“You can’t cheer me up by manhandling me and saying nonsense!” Brain yelled.

“I said narf, not nonsense!”

“They’re synonymous!”

“No, they’re not! They agreed they could date other people and they still have a trusting relationship! And you wanna know what else? They actually clean up after themselves too!”

“GAH!”

“TROZ!”

Their noses were just a few inches apart, chests huffing and puffing like they were about to blow the Three Little Pigs’ houses down. Brain broke away from the staredown first, clasping his hands behind his back as he sulked.

Pinky counted one Mississippi, five Mississippis, and seventeen Mississippi’s, his hand against his racing heart as he breathed in and out to calm down. And why did they only count Mississippi? Why not Alabama, Georgia, or Papua New Guinea?

Brain was a closed book at the best of times, it seemed. One of those heavy textbooks with lots of big words, not a happy, colorful picture book like Pat the Bunny.

But he wasn’t a good actor, though he pretended to be above happiness, fear, and sorrow.

“You know you can talk to me, right? About your feelings or world domination or secret crushes. Anything you want,” Pinky said, wringing his tail in his hands. It looked like a very sad, wiggling worm under his fingers. The smooth surface under his fingers helped a little, but it didn’t replace a full snout hug from Pharfignewton. “I...I was just trying to help.”

“World domination is the only topic worth discussing out of everything you said. Emotions are irrelevant,” Brain said. There was still a bite in his tone, but not much. He rubbed his arm, feet shuffling uncomfortably. “So you were truthful about wanting to...assist during my period of inactivity?”

Pinky tilted his head. “Why would I lie about wanting to help? That would be mean, Brain.”

“Helping is just another way of ensuring someone owes a favor. Or it would be mutually beneficial to all parties involved,” Brain replied. His sharp gaze snapped back to Pinky. “Our deal is just one example out of many.”

“What about helping you cause I wanted you to feel better?”

Didn’t that count? He didn’t know why Brain was making it all so complicated.

“As I stated before, your song was nonsense and your method was invasive.” Brain shot a disdainful glare at the stereo. “But I can’t entirely fault you for your intentions, however misguided, though I suggest having a concrete reward in mind next time.”

Pinky grinned and let go of his tail. “Oh, that’s easy! Lemme grab a chunk of concrete off the street!”

Brain sighed, stomping over to a top drawer, perching on the edge of the counter as he slid it open. “That won’t be necessary, Pinky.”

“Looking for something, Brain?” Pinky asked.

“I can find it on my own!” Brain tried to wave him off, but overbalanced and fell into the open drawer, landing on his stomach with a muffled oomph. He spat a scrap of paper out of his mouth, kicking a red pen aside as he rolled onto his back.

Pinky’s fingers drummed on the counter as he peered down at Brain. A light cherry color coated his sagging cheeks.

“I’d rather direct my focus somewhere else for the time being.” Brain wasn’t making eye contact with Pinky. Which was a shame, because his eyes were the prettiest shade of pink. “I don’t require anything else after you point me to the cleaning supplies.”

Pinky blinked at him in surprise, but they were getting somewhere now! He could do a cartwheel, kiss a cockatoo, and dance the Macarena! Maybe not in that order, or all at once, but there’s a first time for everything!

A smile spread across Pinky’s face, and he couldn’t help but laugh when Brain’s head began to resemble a lumpy tomato.

o-o-o-o-o

Several hours later, Pinky yawned as the first rays of sunlight gently crept across the bed. The distant sounds of cars caught in traffic on the nearby bridge combined with the gentle thrum of lab technology formed the usual background noises, greeting him with a new day. Freeing his legs and tail from the blanket, he dipped into a luxurious, catlike stretch, arching his back and raising his rear end and tail as high as they would go.

“Wakey-wakey, Brain! Narf!” Pinky exclaimed as he shook Brain’s shoulder.

Brain mumbled to himself and buried his head into his pillow, curling into a very tight cocoon to block out the light. If Brain wanted to hatch into a pretty butterfly, he needed all the rest he could get, so Pinky left him alone.

But it was worth a shot, even if Brain wasn’t a morning mouse.

Pinky ate a plateful of food pellets for a quick breakfast, then washed it down with water. The area around the water bottle was puddle-free and mostly clean, save for a stubborn stain on a cage bar by the floor. But that spot gave Pinky plenty of trouble too, so he didn’t hold it against Brain.

He coaxed a drop of water out of the tubing and splashed it on his face, then squeezed through the cage bars, hands behind his back as he strolled over to the cap Snowball had given him.

He’d spent most of his time decorating it with whatever he could find for the past few days. Glittery, colorful letters that spelled Pharfignewton were glued across the brim, give or take a few letters. Her name was so long that it didn’t fit and the ‘ewton’ was on a separate row beneath the rest. Feathers, ribbons, and encouraging messages on sticky notes covered the blue fabric.

It was coming along nicely. Pinky backed up a few steps, sticking out his tongue and placing his fingers together like he was taking a picture.

“Just needs a little something,” Pinky murmured, tapping his chin to get the idea muscle in his head working. It usually worked best after he ate, so coming up with something should be a cinch!

Then he snapped his fingers together, a little lightbulb flickering overhead with a satisfying click. Wait, no, no. That was just the light turning on cause a sleepy scientist trudged in, dragging his feet to the kitchen. He didn’t see Pinky waving good morning to him.

Hopefully the man liked decaf, because they were all out of regular coffee.

Pinky folded red tissue paper into a rose, then repeated the step with purple tissue paper. “Thank you, DIY craft videos on Youtube!” he hummed.

He needed more roses to go all the way around. Kentucky Derby hats were always decked out with pretty roses. Oh, he could arrange the roses into a pretty red-purple-red-purple pattern!

And toss some glitter onto the roses too! Can’t go wrong with glitter!

He dumped a generous amount of pink glitter on his rose and glued it to the hat.

More scientists trickled in, shuffling off to the kitchen in search of coffee and once again ignoring Pinky and his pretty hat. They didn’t seem too keen on coming today. He couldn’t imagine why. Monday was such a lovely day and it never got the appreciation it deserved.

Since they had a bad habit of moving items around so Pinky could never find them, he hid his unfinished hat in the back of a large drawer. Nobody ever looked there anyway.

He hauled himself out of the drawer. As he climbed back to the counter, he paused to admire the calendar picture of Mickey Mouse giving flowers to Minnie. Beneath it, the box for April 27 was circled in glittery blue.

Right, wasn’t there something they were supposed to do today?

RSVP BY 8 PM! NARF!

Right, they still had stuff to do if they were gonna have the best weekend ever! They still had to find costumes for the masquerade ball! Especially the masks! Masks were the most important part!

And they had to call soon, or they wouldn’t be able to go.

“Brain!” Pinky shouted as he ran inside the cage, snatching up the invitation card from the corner. Brain was out of bed and trying to eat a food pellet, though his expression was pinched from the dryness of his breakfast. “Oh, that brand is pretty dry. That’s why I saute it in three-and-one oil first. Anyway, you’re already up?”

Brain scowled and swallowed his morsel with difficulty. “How can I possibly sleep with all this racket?”

A cupboard slammed down the hall, followed by loud profanity that would’ve made Pinky’s grandmother clutch her pearls and faint.

Apparently, nobody wanted decaf.

Pinky held the invitation close to a scowling Brain. “See? We’ve gotta call now or they won’t let us in! Then we won’t be able to swim in the chocolate fountain or admire the ice sculptures!”

Brain shoved the card away from his face. “Heaven forbid we miss those banal activities,” he replied, pressing two hands to his cheeks.

“Exactly!” Pinky’s tail twitched in anticipation. “And we still need fancy outfits and masks!”

Brain took another food pellet, grimaced, and tossed it back into the bowl. Then he sighed and rubbed his temples. “This is a rather asinine plan, Snowball,” he muttered. “Come again?” Pinky asked. He could’ve sworn Brain said Snowball’s name.

Which was weird, because Snowball wasn’t even here. Unless Brain named the food bowl Snowball. That made more sense.

“Never mind, Pinky,” Brain sighed. “Forgive me for my reservations.”

“But we haven’t made those reservations yet,” Pinky said. Brain didn’t reply, too focused on valiantly keeping his breakfast down. Then Brain drank from the water bottle, careful not to splash too much. Once he finished, he headed to the cage door, and Pinky dutifully followed. He hopped from toe to toe as Brain unlocked the door with a bent paper clip. “Can I place the call, Brain?”

“This is a delicate operation, Pinky,” Brain replied. “We must use our given aliases so that we won’t be found out prematurely. I can’t risk you blabbing our true identities, so I’ll speak to our less than gracious host myself. Now, hand over the card.”

It was true.

He wasn’t a good liar at all.

Pinky held out the card, but before Brain could take it, a balding man with a bad combover and rumpled labcoat tried to yank him out of the cage by his crooked tail. The scientist yelped in pain as the orb sparked in his hand, leaving red marks on his skin. Startled, Freed from his grip, Brain leapt forward and tripped over himself. Pinky dropped the card and caught Brain by the shoulders before he could slam nose-first into the metal floor.

The red orbs on Brain’s antennae glowed for several seconds before fading away. Then Brain regained his footing and gave Pinky a brief nod as thanks, quickly pulling away to recollect himself.

The contact ended all too soon.

The man flicked his hand to get rid of the shock, muttering to himself as he pulled on a pair of rubber gloves.

“What’s going on?” Brain snapped. “We have important business to conduct!”

“Don’t worry, Brain. It’s just Maze Monday!” Pinky said, fixing his messy tuft as best he could without a mirror. He had to look his best for maze running! “We’ll call afterward!”

The scientist reached in again. Though Brain defiantly stood in the corner away from him, it was no use and he was pulled out of the cage. He dangled in the scientist’s gloved hand by the tail, grumpy at his current position.

Pinky was next. He swung from the scientist’s other hand as he was lifted into the air, pumping his legs back and forth like he was on an upside down swing. Giggling, he reached out and tried to touch Brain’s ears, though he was several inches short.

With one mouse dangling from each hand, the scientist walked out of the room and carried them down the hallway. They passed the college interns who were more interested in selfies than work, the security guard who was always shouting about evil rodents and their master plan to hoard the world’s entire cheese supply for themselves, and a bored female scientist who looked like she’d rather be anywhere else but here.

The scientist entered a room on his left. Along the wall, several guinea pigs rested in their cages. Pinky waved to them, but since he didn’t have any food, the guinea pigs weren’t interested.

They were dropped at the start of a large cardboard maze. The scientist adjusted the cameras mounted above the maze, then left the room.

Just him and Brain now.

“Your scientists display a disturbing lack of regard for our tails,” Brain grumbled, rubbing the soreness out of one zigzagged bend. “Not that Selenians were any better.”

“But if they hold the tip just right, you can swing around like a little monkey!” Pinky said. “I mean, my rear gets a bit sore too, and sometimes you might crash into a wall, but it’s still loads of fun! Haven’t you ever tried it, Brain?”

“While that activity is suitable for inane creatures, it doesn’t befit a future world emperor to behave in such an embarrassing manner.” Brain dusted off his jumpsuit, though it was recently washed and wasn’t particularly dirty. “But I digress. We must focus on surviving this perilous maze so that we may RSVP to the event in time.”

Perilous?

But he didn’t see any pearls anywhere. It was just cardboard and metal as far as the eye could see. Pearls would’ve brightened this drab maze a lot.

There were four directions to pick from. Pinky scratched his head. Which one?

The left path looked fun, but the one behind and in front were dimly lit. Which left the right path. And since it was right, that meant it was the right way!

“Let’s go! The right path is always right! Zort!” Pinky exclaimed. He walked to the right path, but Brain hauled him back by the elbow.

“Don’t assume the direction and the certainty of success are one and the same, Pinky,” Brain said firmly. “We have to take precautions.”

Pinky didn’t think they had to be careful though. There wasn’t anyone else here. Unless the guinea pigs counted, but they weren’t in the maze.

His usual strategy was to run around silly-willy until he found the snack at the end. But in all his years, he’d never actually found the snack. Usually he just ran into walls and daydreamed about cheese until a nice scientist got him out.

And cheese kept the spookiness away.

“There’s nobody here but us,” Pinky said.

“There’s nobody visible in this maze but us,” Brain corrected. “If we’re not careful, we could fall victim to traps. Enough arguing, Pinky. We’re taking the left fork.”

There weren’t any forks to take, nor anything to eat using a fork, but at least Brain was nice enough to drag Pinky down his second choice instead of the dimly lit paths.

Brain stuck close to the walls, grabbing Pinky’s wrist to ensure he did the same. As they came upon a T-section where they could either turn left or right, Brain carefully held his antennae back with his free hand and poked his head around the corner. Pinky tried to lean over Brain to see what was so interesting, but a sharp nudge kept him back.

“Whatcha looking for?” Pinky asked. “Besides cardboard.”

“Bright, confined areas are the safest,” Brain said. “It’s not a complete guarantee, but you can at least watch for disturbances on the floor or wall. We’ll head right. I can’t see the end of the left corridor from here.”

He let go of Pinky’s wrist, but gave him stern instructions to stay along the wall. It was just like giving the wall a really long hug, and Pinky licked the wall to thank it for hugging back.

Huh. So cardboard tastes like cardboard then. Not bad, but it could definitely use some parsley.

Halfway down the corridor, Brain’s breath suddenly hitched. He stared at the floor in front of them, where one edge of the cardboard was a little higher than the other. The line spanned the entire length between the two walls.

“Don’t get too close,” Brain said, pushing Pinky back before he could step on it. “Remember, strange patterns in the structure might reveal the location of a trap.”

It looked like a normal ledge though. Completely harmless.

But if the trap only worked when they stepped on it...then the trick was to not step on it!

Brain let go of Pinky’s wrist as he pondered their next course of action. Taking his chances, Pinky backed up several paces, keeping his eye on the line he couldn’t touch.

Then he sprinted forward, ignoring Brain’s shout for him to stop.

Pinky leapt as high as he could, easily clearing the line. Though he couldn’t quite stick the landing and toppled forward as soon as he touched the ground.

Still had to work on his weak ankles.

Hopping to his feet, Pinky turned to a flabbergasted Brain. Ha! He loved that word. Flabbergasted! Too bad it was a bit long for a catchphrase.

Instead of being impressed, Brain glared at him.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous your stunt was?” Brain shouted. “You could’ve been severely incapacitated!”

Pinky stretched his legs to test his ankles, but they felt alright. No harm done.

“Narf! But my ankles are fine! See?” Pinky shook his ankles so Brain could see they weren’t hurt.

“And if there was a motion sensor?” Brain snapped. “Did you consider the possibility of spikes, projectiles, or electrocution?”

“Um…”

The scientists wouldn’t be mean enough to put those in a maze. Of course, sometimes they’d forget to take him out when he couldn’t find the exit, and he’d lay in the maze alone and listen to the lab’s scary nighttime noises, but he’d never seen spikes during these tests before.

“Thought so,” Brain said. There was something odd about the way his hand twitched towards his tail.

Like he had personal experience.

“Have you ever been caught in a trap before?” Pinky asked before he could stop himself.

Too much?

Brain folded his arms and lifted his chin, pink eyes narrowing at Pinky. Probably not then. Brain was too smart for that.

And definitely clever enough to find his way to the exit and not get stuck overnight.

Then Brain turned around so Pinky could see all the zigzags in his tail.

“Electrocution trap,” Brain said, his ears lowering. “An overload of electricity can be fatal for my species, though we’re naturally resistant to smaller shocks. I was...less experienced back then.”

There was more. Brain wasn’t telling him how much it hurt.

But Brain tensed, a silent warning not to push any further.

“They didn’t leave you in the maze overnight, did they?” Pinky asked. Brain went dangerously still.

Oh, there he went running his mouth again! Why couldn’t his mouth be good and stay zipped?

“Sorry, Brain. You don’t have to answer. It’s fine, really!” Pinky hastily corrected himself. “But if they did-”

"No, they didn't," Brain said, surprising Pinky with how much he was revealing. "They kept a strict count of all their test subjects, and preserving them was far more preferable to losing a valuable limited resource. Small mercies, I suppose.”

“Oh. Well...that’s good.” Pinky rubbed the back of his neck. He was glad Brain never had to deal with that. He wouldn’t wish it on anybody, not even that stubborn stain he could never rub out from the cage bars. “Poit.”

Brain turned back to Pinky and looked at the line between them. Then he hopped over it, bracing himself for a shock. When no electricity appeared, he seemed surprised, though he immediately tried to school his expression into a neutral one. He walked past Pinky and refused an invitation to hug it out.

They had to turn left at the next intersection since the right led to a dead end. Then they reached an open room with a cardboard path and a metal path. Brain chose the metal path, but stopped where the rough paper met cool metal. Pinky stopped behind him.

“Pinky?” Brain said. He didn’t turn around. “Were you left in a maze overnight?”

“Sometimes,” Pinky admitted. Was he worrying Brain? He didn’t want Brain to worry! “But it’s not so bad when you imagine all the cheese you’ll eat at the end, even if you never reach it. But cheese keeps the ghosts away, you know. They don’t like the smell.”

If he imagined cheese, he wouldn’t imagine long, crooked witch fingers trying to pluck him out. Or the loud air conditioning system which clicked on and off every few minutes, the ghostly breeze echoing down the hallway. Or how he called for his parents and Sis to come share a yummy feast with him, though they never came.

“That’s horribly negligent on the humans’ end.”

And that was all the talk Brain allowed on the matter.

o-o-o-o-o

The maze was a lot longer than they thought. Just when Pinky believed they’d reached the cheese, there was always some new twist that set them back.

What time was it? Though he couldn’t see the clock, it had to be around lunchtime right now. Pinky’s stomach growled, sounding a lot like Brain in one of his moods.

He’d give an arm and a leg for a few food pellets. Or some cheese. Even a leaf.

Brain was tiring out too. His footsteps were heavier and slower. But he kept at it.

Right, focus on the goal. Focus on the yummy cheese.

What kind would they get? Moldy? Blue? Provolone? All of those sounded pretty good, but Pinky thought his stomach was calling for pepperjack. Oh wait, no, maybe it was gorgonzola.

His stomach grumbled again. Okay, it was definitely muenster this time.

They came across a path with a thick sheet of metal on top. So dark that they couldn’t see a thing in front of them. Brain took a deep breath and stuck a hand in the darkness. They only saw his wrist.

His fingers were completely swallowed by the inky, hungry darkness.

Brain took his hand out.

Oh. Not swallowed then. All his fingers were still there.

“We’ve exhausted all our options,” Brain said, pounding his fist into his hand in determination. But even that gesture couldn’t hide how he stuck to the wall like glue. Pinky didn’t blame him. It was awfully dark in there. What if they went in and were never found again? “Taking this path is absolutely necessary if we’re to make it out of this labyrinth in time.”

But they couldn’t see the traps. It wasn’t safe.

Unless…

“Brain, your orbs!” Pinky exclaimed, gently tapping an antenna. “If you make ‘em glow, we won’t get lost or fall into a trap!”

Brain didn’t look so sure. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Not a terrible suggestion for once, Pinky. Unfortunately, it’s not something I have voluntary control over. It’s a hormonal response that occurs when I’m...well, happy.”

“So we’ll just have to make you happy enough for your orbs to glow,” Pinky said.

With what? Brain raised an eyebrow, the silent question obvious.

Then Pinky snapped his fingers. He knew what to do! He'd sing Just Say Narf!

Except he was trying to make Brain happy, not himself.

A no-go then.

Cream cheese and blueberry bagels? Out of reach.

Pinky tapped his chin. This was harder than he thought.

Brain sat against the wall, eyes squeezed shut and hands rubbing circles into his large forehead. “Statues, parades, my jewel-encrusted cummerbund…” he murmured.

He was doing one of those smartypants things. Too smart for Pinky to understand.

Brain growled and opened his eyes in irritation. “Cease your staring at once, Pinky. I’m trying to concentrate.”

“On what?” Pinky asked.

“World domination of course,” Brain said, smacking his ear like he was dumping extra thoughts out of his chubby head. “Accomplishing a goal would naturally bring anyone contentment.”

Pinky zipped his lip and threw away the key, then sat against the wall across from Brain and waited.

Yet Brain’s orbs didn’t glow.

Pinky drummed his fingers against his leg. When he drummed all the songs he knew, he tried to lick his elbow. Except his elbow didn’t want to be licked. He leaned in and stuck his tongue out as far as he could, but it was a very stubborn elbow.

After an eternity, Brain finally spoke, his voice full of cautious hope. “Are they glowing now?”

Pinky shook his head, and Brain slumped against the wall in defeat.

The clock ticked on.

“There’s gotta be other things you like besides world domination,” Pinky said. It made sense to have a lot of likes and favorites, and not just on social media.

“Those ‘other things’ are frivolous at best and distractions at worst,” Brain replied. “Taking over this world would make me happy, so there’s no logical reason as to why it’s not working.”

Maybe it was happy, but they had to think happier. No, they had to think happiest!

Brain said ‘this world’. Right, he was a Selenian. Funny how it seemed like he’d been here forever instead of just a few days.

A Selenian. Brain never revealed much about where he came from. Just that he wanted to leave it all behind. And he only spoke about their technology. But there was more than that, right?

“Narf! It’s funny, Brain,” Pinky said, holding his toes as he rocked back and forth. Brain looked at him, confused. “You’ve gotten to know a lot about this planet, but I don’t know much about yours! There’s gotta be something about New Selene that makes you happy!”

“Nothing about that desolate wasteland sparks any joyful feelings,” Brain retorted. “Snowball and I are much better off here. Terra’s knowledge of space is much less advanced than Selene’s, but once we’re co-rulers that’s a problem easily rectified.”

“But there has to be something you did for fun.”

Brain looked away. “You’re prying. But if you’re truly interested…”

“I am!” Pinky exclaimed, nodding eagerly. “Please tell me!”

Brain’s ear twitched as he listened for signs of anyone coming. But none appeared. “I’m going to regret this...but fine. However, everything I’m about to tell you does not leave this maze. Promise me.”

“Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my-ow!” Pinky jabbed his eye a little too hard.

Brain watched him for a moment longer, so Pinky tried to make himself look like a captivated audience. Finally, he gave in with a sigh.

“Selenians have an oral storytelling tradition called Lor Altal. The loose translation to your language is ‘swapping hearts’, and given their predisposition to sordid, melodramatic affairs, I’d say it’s an accurate name,” Brain explained. “On the mother planet, it’s normally performed on the last day of the month. But explorers and scientists, including those of New Selene, often turned it into a weekly session as a way to remind them of home.”

“Didja hear any Lor Altals on New Selene?” Pinky asked. He laid on his stomach, propped his head on his elbows, and kicked his feet in the air.

“...yes.”

Why so hesitant though?

“Snowball and I...we used to sneak out of our cages for the weekly Lor Altal. When we were younger. Before they abandoned New Selene. The ones we’d listened to were...well, they could become very elaborate with song, dance, and costume. New Selene’s were more basic, but interesting.”

“Ooooooh,” Pinky said. This definitely sounded fun fun silly-willy! “You know any good stories, Brain? Can you tell me? Please please please?”

Brain scratched his head. “Well, there’s one that I...no, perhaps I shouldn’t be thinking about these things. Lor Altals don’t matter in the pursuit of world domination.”

“I don’t mind!” Pinky said. Brain was so silly, insisting that he couldn’t like stuff outside his goal. He liked cream cheese and blueberry bagels, didn’t he? “I wanna know your favoritest out of the lot!”

“You do?” Brain asked in surprise. He didn’t seem to believe Pinky.

“Of course!” Pinky grinned.

Brain’s cheeks flushed, but he accepted that they weren’t going anywhere. Besides, if Brain really liked these Lor Altal stories, then his orbs would glow and they wouldn’t have to be scared of the dark!

“...alright. This Lor Altal tale is called Heikro var Silda. It’s one of the most well-known stories, starring Selene’s historical figures,” Brain said, gaining more confidence with every word. “The characters were embellished from real life, but the background is mostly the same.”

There was a spark in Brain’s pink eyes now. It intrigued Pinky.

“Three thousand years ago, before Selene’s industrial and technological revolutions, the entire planet was embroiled in a long and bitter civil war, spearheaded by two rival households, alike in prestige and influence.”

“If they add honey, maybe it wouldn’t be so bitter?” Pinky suggested.

“Try not to interrupt, Pinky. Setting the mood is important in these stories,” Brain said, breaking out of his narrator voice. And boy did he have a lovely narrator voice!

Pinky rezipped his lip and let Brain continue.

“The eastern hemisphere was the domain of the House of Syar'i, of which the fair maiden Silda belonged. The western half was controlled by the House of Alkair, of which the handsome lad Heikro was selected to rule. Caught between the two powerful households, the Selenians were fearful of the violence that ensued whenever they clashed, for both commanded large networks of armies, assassins, and spies. Now, on one fateful day…”

Soon Brain was completely engrossed in the story, just as Pinky was enthralled to hear Brain give the performance of his life. Well, Brain wasn’t the best actor Pinky had ever seen. Sometimes he was a bit flat and sometimes he was a bit hammy, but the passion in his voice made the story absolutely thrilling.

It was the type of passion someone only had when they truly loved something.

Some breaks were necessary for Brain to rest his voice for a few minutes, others so Pinky could get a translation for the Selenian language when Brain accidentally used a different tongue after getting caught up in the story.

Brain’s voice grew softer as he laid out Heikro’s plan to sneak into a banquet thrown by the House of Syar’i to scope out their plans for an invasion of an Akair-controlled port city. And poor Silda, having to marry someone she didn’t love but doing it for the sake of her parents! That poor girl oughta be happy!

Pinky clasped his hands together at the moment Heikro laid eyes on Silda’s beauty and was instantly smitten, forgetting that he needed to report his findings to his council. And Silda was taken in by Heikro’s broad shoulders and sturdy build. It was love at first sight! How romantic!

“Then Silda bid her parents and their guests good night, and retired to her chambers. But Heikro, who longed to see more of the maiden’s ethereal charm, could not bear to stay away for long. Under the cover of darkness, he crept around her residence, where he found a restless Silda on her balcony. She couldn’t slumber peacefully, for her maidservant revealed the man she kissed was none other than an esteemed member of the House of Akair.”

Pinky pounded his fist against his knee. “She needs to elope with him, that’s what! Narf!”

“‘Nova suprhi li ihmin var altal’, he called to her.”

“Oh, there’s that altal word again. He’s saying something about hearts, I think. That’s so sweet!” Pinky exclaimed. Realizing his mistake, he covered his mouth. “Sorry, Brain! Continue!”

But instead of continuing, Brain leaned against the wall. Oh. He must’ve gotten tired.

“I’ll let it pass this time, Pinky,” Brain said as he rubbed his throat. “I might’ve overdone it anyway. Next time, I’ll pick a better stopping point.”

His voice sounded a little raspy. Though Pinky really wanted to know what happened next, keeping Brain’s voice in working order so they could make the phone call was more important.

“What did that last sentence mean?” Pinky asked.

Brain regarded Pinky for a long moment. “It’s a favorite quote among many Selenians. But it’s rather saccharine, I’m afraid.”

“I’m not,” Pinky said.

“If you must know, it means ‘new stars shall be born from our minds and hearts’.” Brain’s voice was so soft, Pinky had to strain to hear it. “As I said, it’s saccharine.”

“It sounds so poetic!” Pinky smiled. And romantic too!

Brain didn’t say anything. His orbs cast a gentle red glow over his shining pink eyes.

Egad, his orbs! They were glowing now! Even the one on his tail!

“Brain, you did it!” Pinky cheered, trying to do a cartwheel. But he landed flat on his face instead, though he popped right back up. “You found what made you happy!”

Brain touched the orbs on his antennae, awed by their appearance. Then he turned towards the dark pathway, gesturing for Pinky to follow.

They didn’t have to worry about traps or getting stuck anymore! Pinky skipped along behind Brain, who walked at a brisk pace.

A soft red glow lit up the metal walls around them as they plunged deeper into the maze. But there were no lefts, rights, or confusing turns. Just straight ahead.

“Thanks for being here with me, Brain. It’s not scary anymore,” Pinky said gratefully, taking Brain’s hand in his own.

“Keep walking, Pinky,” Brain replied, keeping his eyes forward. If anything, the light grew a little brighter. “We should be nearing the end of the maze.”

Pinky sniffed the air. He could’ve sworn he smelled cheese.

Hold the phone! He smelled cheese!

And there was an opening ahead of them!

Pinky’s stomach growled as they stepped into the light, and lo and behold, there were two lumps of cheddar right in front of them!

Even Brain was smiling as he chomped down on the cheese.

Pinky dug in. And it was the best cheese he’d ever tasted in his life!

o-o-o-o-o

It took a long time for the lab to clear out after they finished the maze. The scientists were shocked by Pinky clearing the maze for the first time. He couldn’t blame them.

He astounded himself too.

Brain’s light had dimmed long before the lab closed, annoyed by the constant poking and prodding. They wanted to know who spliced him with butterfly DNA because of his antennae, though multiple people thought he was spliced with a mosquito since he bit any curious fingers that strayed close to his face.

“Those ignorant fools will be bowing to me soon enough, Pinky,” Brain proclaimed as he dialed the number on the invitation. “Hold the card up.”

“Hurry, Brain!” Pinky urged, shooting a fearful glance at the clock. They only had thirty minutes left!

Brain punched the number into the phone, then hit the call button.

“Please work!” Pinky begged the phone as it rang. He wanted to wear fancy clothes and mingle and swim in the chocolate fountain so much!

The phone rang once, twice, then the call finally went through.

“Hello, this is Harold, butler of Lamont Manor,” a voice with a charming British accent said. “May I ask who I’m speaking with?”

Pinky bounced from toe to toe in excitement, though he tried to curb it when Brain held up a hand for him to stop. But he couldn’t help his tail twitchies.

“This is Mr. Clarke,” Brain said, using the name on the card. “My spouse and I will be coming to the ball on Sunday.”

“I see,” Harold said, his tone changing into one of disgust. That was a little odd. “Another new spouse then, Anthony?”

New spouse? Brain mouthed in confusion.

Pinky shrugged.

“Mrs. Clarke is on the invitation. She’s allowed inside too, correct?” Brain asked.

“Assuming she’s still your wife by Sunday, yes,” Harold said. “I’ll put your names on the guest list. Try to do something about that awful rasp of yours, will you? Good night.”

The call ended.

“The real Mr. Clarke sounds like a delightful fellow,” Brain muttered.

“I’m sure it won’t be so bad, Brain!” Pinky grinned. Now all they had to do was find fancy stuff for the ball! “You’re gonna be wearing a mask anyway!”

“I suppose,” Brain sighed.

“No supposing!” Pinky shook his finger at him. “Besides, you haven’t finished your Lor Altal story yet! You know, it’s funny how it reminds me of Romeo and Juliet. With the feuding families and star-crossed lovers and all! Except much happier, cause Reikro and Silda will help bring about peace to the planet of Selene and live happily ever after!”

Brain didn’t make eye contact with Pinky for the next few hours.

My original plan was to have them mistaken for feeder mice after they finished the maze, and they would’ve been plopped into a snake enclosure with a snake named Gladys. Pinky would’ve been caught in the coils (Gladys is nonvenomous and would kill by constricting rather than venom), and Brain would rescue him.

Ultimately, I decided to cut this idea out and have them run a maze instead, which is tedious but not life-threatening. Since the maze is light on danger, I decided to focus more on Pinky and Brain interactions here, and include the Lor Altal oral storytelling tradition, which has been mentioned in previous chapters as an aside. Plus, I believe this story would benefit from Pinky learning more about where Brain came from, since previous chapters have placed the focus on Brain learning about Earth.

The storytelling is an aspect of Selenian culture Brain likes but never got to fully enjoy. Since Brain seems to have a hidden interest in acting and theatre, given the number of his schemes that involve cinema, broadcasting, and in one case, Broadway, I decided to incorporate that bit of his character here.

Brain’s story is just an abridged Romeo and Juliet IN SPACE!

#pinky and the brain #patb nova #patb fanfiction

14 notes · View notes

krsnbgirl · 3 years

Text

Fly High! || Kageyama x Fem!Reader || Part 8

Summary: Tensions are high between Hinata and Kageyama during their time in Tokyo. You can’t help but be on the sidelines and only step in when it’s necessary. Kuroo checks in with you and tries to help you relax during one of their breaks. Also, you show Kageyama that you’re going to be there for him whenever things get tough and he appreciates you for being by his side.

Pairing: Kageyama Tobio x Fem!Reader

Genre: Rom-Com, Slice of Life, Sports

Warnings: None

Word Count: ~3.5k

Taglist: @misnmatchedsox @monviemoo @love-beyond-words @bbecc-a

Author’s Notes: Hello lovelies! I hope you enjoy this update~ Anyways, how are you guys doing? Today’s been a little rough, so writing helped me escape reality for a bit, haha. As always, it will be cross posted on AO3 and I hope you guys have a great day today! Taglist is still open <3

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 5.5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8 || Part 9 || Masterlist

You purse your lips as the following day of training camp went into full throttle. The boys were finally up against Nekoma and while taking down notes for the team, you began to notice the shift between Hinata and Lev. An unspoken conversation had gone down between the two players and the gut feeling you had the day before was finally coming into existence. Hinata’s goal to become one of the best players was growing stronger. He had always made it known that he wanted to be at the top. He’d show anyone just how serious he was to be able to be just as amazing as the Tiny Giant. As the game slowly progressed, you could see the new expression on his face as he continued to play. Biting your lip, you took note of this in your notebook to bring up to Shimizu and the adults once their game was over.

You winced as everyone watched Hinata go for the ball that was clearly meant for Asahi to spike and held your breath as they collided. As everyone tried to calm down the situation with Ukai and Kageyama reprimanding him, there was an underlying tension in the air. You bit the back of your pen and glanced across the court to see that Nekoma’s coach had also realized what was happening to your team as he smirked to himself. He was a perceptive coach and the smile he showed proved that he had figured out what you were meaning to share when the next time out happened.

Everyone finally settled down and returned to their original positions. You looked at your boys and sighed in relief when it looked like things were going back to normal. They had concentrated looks and were slowly getting back into the rhythm of things. You hoped that there wouldn’t be anything else that would disrupt the match. Just as you were about to relax and go over your notes, you were proved wrong when the orange haired player turned to say something to Kageyama that had Karasuno react in surprise.

“The quick that goes like whoosh...I’ll stop closing my eyes.”

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself as Kageyama’s face deadpanned when everyone heard what Hinata had to say. Biting your lip, you squeezed the pen that you were previously twirling in hopes that things wouldn’t escalate more than it already had.

“I can’t stay like this,” he continued, “I can’t keep hitting quicks that are set just for me.”

“You can’t, and that’s why we learned normal quicks. I don’t know what’s going on with you right now, but if you have something to say, I’ll listen to it later. But if you’re gonna do that right now, I’m not going to set to a guy who I know will miss.” Kageyama retorted.

With the blow of the referee’s whistle, you let out the breath that you didn’t know you were holding. Setting your elbows on top of your knees, you focused on the game, silently thankful that nothing else had come out of that short conversation. Shimizu sighed beside you and you looked up at her. You two shared a look and while stretching your arms, the older girl sighed. Readjusting her glasses, Shimizu hugged her notebook closer to her as you continued to watch the boys play.

“That wasn’t just me who noticed the tension between the boys, right?” you murmured.

Shimizu agreed and voiced her own concerns, “Ever since the collision happened, the rest of the boys are all on edge.”

And before you knew it, the game was over. The other teams dispersed to their areas and the boys were doing their punishment once again. As you gathered the stray balls that littered the court, you couldn’t help but notice the looks on the boys’ faces as they dove across the floor.

The tension in the team was obvious as some gritted their teeth, others had their eyebrows scrunched up, and some glanced at Hinata to see that the boy was in his own world.

Taking in a deep breath, you knew that the boys were finally realizing what you had come to realize: Hinata’s greed kept growing and no one wanted to be left behind. You laughed when you noticed that Hinata had messed up on his dive and smiled to yourself. While rolling the cart of balls off to the side, you were glad to see that the boys were slowly realizing that this camp was the perfect time to grow. The teams from the city are hard opponents and it was finally time for Karasuno to level up. So, once the boys had gathered around to listen to what Takeda and Ukai had to say, you breathed a sigh of relief and mentally thanked the teacher for his poetic words. Out of the four of them, Takeda always had the right words to tell the team.

“You guys are the weakest team out of all the teams here.”

You sweat dropped as you took in their faces when he said that, but smiled warmly as he continued. “If we were to have an official match with any of these teams, they would be a troublesome opponent. Are we going to view them as mere opponents or teachers that we can absorb techniques from?”

You found yourself mentally agreeing with everything that your teacher was saying and as he wrapped up his speech about having more room to grow, you were glad to see that the boys’ expressions changed to being refreshed and determined. There was this refreshed aura around them and you straightened up, knowing that you had a little less to worry about. And as the boys were let on a brief break before their next match, you bit her lip when you noticed that Kageyama, Hinata, and Sugawara went outside to talk.

“Oi~ chibi-chan!” Kuroo called.

You raised an eyebrow at him as he jogged up to you and you crossed your arms, shifting your weight onto one of your legs.

“What do you want this time, you freakishly tall giant?”

He leaned back and laughed. You playfully rolled your eyes as he pretended to wipe a tear away from his eyes.

“You do know, everyone is basically a giant to you here right?”

“Yeah and what about it? You’re the only one who’s annoying me right now.” You chuckled and playfully swatted his stomach. “Now what do you want Tetsu?”

He shrugged and said, “I just wanted to check up on you after noticing the change in the boys during the game. You looked stressed and worried. Your leg kept bouncing up and down while you did that scrunched up look on your face whenever you began to overthink.”

Your eyes glanced towards the entrance that the boys disappeared to and sighed. “I’m not sure what went down between Kageyama and Hinata, but hopefully they’ll be able to fix it. As for the team, the boys have been doing alright overall and I think Shoyo realized what they need to be doing at this camp. I just hope Kageyama will be able to hear him out.”

Twirling the volleyball you had taken out of the team bag, you purse your lips as different scenarios played in your mind. Kuroo sighed and lightly bonked the top of your head. If there was anything he learned about you through the years he’s known you, it’s when you would begin to overthink something. You glared at him and he snickered before resting an elbow on top of your head. He looked down at you as you tossed the ball back into the bag. You groaned as he playfully added more of his weight onto you.

“You don’t gotta stress, (Y/N)-chan. Knowing those two, they’re gonna hash it out as always and everything will be fine. You gotta believe in those two because you know that they’re going to always pull through in the end, alright?”

You looked at him with some doubt and he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. Leaning into his comforting embrace, you wrapped an arm around his waist.

“Yeah I guess you’re right.”

“I know. And think about it this way, if you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the precipitate.”

You immediately looked up at him in disbelief. “Did you really just try to squeeze in a chemistry joke?”

He casually shrugged and said, “Yeah and what about it? I’m trying to cheer you up. My jokes always work on you.”

You shook your head and laughed. “Only you, Tetsu. Only you.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?!” he exclaimed and stepped away to tower over you.

“Take it as you will, you big nerd.” you chuckled and didn’t back down, his glowering having no effect on you.

The coaches yelled faintly in the background that it was almost time to resume the practice matches. You watched as Kageyama finally returned and your eyebrows scrunched up as you took in his expression while Coach Ukai made his way outside to see what was going on.

“Look, if it makes you feel better, I’ll help you with your team since this is a training camp chibi-chan.” Kuroo said.

Your eyes widened in surprise and he laughed at your expression.

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope, I’m totally serious. The players have free time after the matches for their own practices. A couple of us were planning on helping each other with our strengths or just having mock games. Well actually Bokuto and I just wanted to play against each other like old time’s sake” Kuroo laughed and ruffled your hair. “If any of your boys come by, I’ll help them out.”

You couldn’t help yourself as a bubble of excitement rippled through you and threw your arms around Kuroo. He laughed and lifted you up into a spin before setting you down. You continued the conversation and walked towards Nekoma with Kuroo to quickly exchange pleasantries before the break ended.

Over to the side, Kageyama clicked his tongue as he watched your exchange happen and clenched his water bottle tighter.

“Oh? Looks like someone’s trying to swoop in King.” Tsukishima snickered as he took note of what Kageyama was looking at.

“Shut up, you don’t know anything.” Kageyama rolled his eyes before walking away.

You managed to walk up to him before he reached the bench and he looked down at her with an eyebrow raised. Meeting his gaze, you tugged on his practice jersey when you noticed that he was tightly clenching his jaw.

“Hey Tobio, are you alright?”

Asahi, Daichi, and Nishinoya choked on their waters as their head snapped in your direction after hearing your voice. Kageyama could feel his ears burn as you looked at him in concern and Nishinoya screamed. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever get over her calling me by my name with her voice.’ He thought and you poked him in the stomach to get his attention.

“TOBIO?! YOU GUYS ARE ON FIRST NAME BASIS NOW?! SINCE WHEN?!”

Daichi and Asahi held him back and you glared at him to shut up before turning back to Kageyama. He sighed as his mind flashed back to Hinata’s words and tried to keep his annoyance at bay. That was a problem that could be addressed later when these matches were over. In the meantime, he’d just need to focus on whoever they faced next. Ruffling your hair, he set his bottle next to his things and began to make his way back to the court.

“There’s nothing you need to worry about, for now.”

With a sigh, you could only trust Kageyama’s words as the rest of the boysgot ready for their match against Fukurodani.

---

The last day of the weekend training finally came to an end as everyone loitered in the parking lot as members packed away their belongings. You wiped away the sweat on your forehead as you tossed the last bag of volleyballs into the storage unit. The boys were all saying their goodbyes before getting onto the bus. Then seeing as Shimizu and Takeda-sensei were already in the vehicle, you took this as a chance to get a window seat on the way home. You also wanted some peace and quiet before the boys came onto the bus to start your nap and took your place on the bench that Kageyama and Hinata would usually sit in.

‘They wouldn’t mind if I stole their seat just this once, right?’ you thought and mentally shrugged. You plugged in your earphones to drone out the noise as the boys began to slowly file into the bus and closed your eyes in hopes that no one would bother you while trying to relax.

Just as you were about to nod off, a light tap was felt on your shoulder. You jumped in surprise when you saw Kageyama looking the other way. Your eyes went over to the single seater row across from you and noticed Hinata had already taken a seat, looking out the window. With a silent understanding, you stood up and grabbed your bag from the empty seat next to you. He raised an eyebrow before taking your previous seat and you nonchalantly shrugged as Takeda-sensei started the bus.

“Window seats are better to help clear the mind.” You murmured before sitting down and took out the last of your homework.

He grunted at the sight of the assignments he still had to do once he got back home and you softly giggled at his response. After getting situated and the bus was finally on the highway back home, you nudged him. Kageyama looked down at the earbud you were offering and then back at you once again. You simply grabbed his palm and put the wireless bud in his hand before tapping the one you already had in your ear.

“It’ll help you keep your mind off things.”

Before he could say anything to you, the volume of the song playing was turned up and you started to work on your homework. He stared at you in surprise to find one of his favorite artists playing and sighed before relaxing in his seat. Resting his chin on the top of his palm, he looked out the window. Catching your reflection behind him, his eyes softened as he let his mind drift, thankful that you lent your support in a way he was comfortable with.

You let out a yawn as you sleepily made your way out of the girl’s changing room and shouldered your backpack to prevent it from slipping off of your shoulders. Tilting your head to the side, you noticed that the light in the gym was still on. With a shake of your head, you had a good feeling as to who was in there. You couldn’t help but pinch the bridge of your nose in hopes that your gut was wrong. Peeping your head through the door, you let out an exasperated sigh to find Hinata and Kageyama in the gym with a basket of volleyballs near them.

“Shouldn’t you guys be heading home?” you asked as you stepped into the gym and crossed your arms.

Hinata smiled sheepishly and said. “(Y/N)-chan, if you don’t mind, could you throw us some balls?”

Your eyes shifted over towards Kageyama and he shrugged before tossing one of the balls at you. Huffing to yourself as you caught the ball, you dropped your bag by the door before joining them onto the court. After tossing them the ball for a couple of moments, you groaned when you felt the tensions rise once more. Hinata was trying to keep his eyes open and you noticed that he wasn’t jumping at his highest point anymore. You knew that Kageyama noticed after several tries and you were debating if you should try to stop them. The frustration was growing evident on both of their faces and you bit your lip as Hinata asked for one more time.

“Instead of practicing an attack we’re not sure you’ll be able to do, you should be working on the attacks we’ve been using, as well as serving and blocking!” Kageyama snapped.

You held your breath as their conversation got more heated and before you knew it, the boys were at each other’s throats. While waiting for the right moment to step in, Kageyama grabbed a hold of Hinata’s shirt and he was thrown onto the floor in seconds. You began to worry because this looked a lot more serious compared to the previous fights they’ve had. So, taking a deep breath, you were about to yell at them to stop fighting, especially once Kageyama refused to set for him, but things seemed to happen too fast for you to keep up. You froze as Hinata jumped back into his feet and tried to tackle Kageyama to the floor. Knowing that the two were too blinded by their emotions for you to intercept, you ran towards the clubroom to get someone to stop them.

“Ryu-nii!” you exclaimed when you spotted him at the bottom of the staircase.

He jumped at your alarmed expression and tugged on his arm, pointing towards the gym.

“What’s the matter?”

You turned back to him with worried eyes and said, “Shoyo and Tobio are fighting!”

Without a moment to waste, Tanaka rushed towards the gym before yelling at the two to stop it. You winced when you witnessed the two of them get punched by their upperclassman. Knowing that it was the perfect chance to help diffuse the situation, you got a hold of Kageyama while Tanaka held Hinata back.

“You guys need to calm the fuck down, right now!” you exclaimed.

The boys paused when they heard you and Kageyama looked down when he finally realized that you were holding him back. He noticed the frustrating and disappointed look on your face and gulped. With more awareness of his surroundings, Kageyama felt your hands slightly trembling as you held him back and he immediately tried to relax his body. It was hard for him because Hinata seemed to not listen to anyone and there wasn't enough time for him to master the new quick. With a sigh, you let go of Kageyama and made your way towards your backpack to take out the first aid kit you always carried for emergencies.

“That’s enough. I know the both of you have different opinions right now but we all just got back from camp. We’re all tired and you idiots might be getting way too heated because of the exhaustion. Take a moment for yourselves and really think about what each other have said, alright?” you hissed before approaching your friends.

Tanaka proudly smiled as he watched them obediently listen to you and ruffled your hair as he made his way out. He knew that there weren’t going to be any more scuffles with the way the boys looked at opposite directions as you bandaged their bruises and cuts.

“You got this from here, (Y/N)-chan?” Tanaka asked.

You hummed in response and waved him off while you concentrated on putting a bandage on Kageyama’s cheek. “You can go home Ryu-nii, thanks for breaking these two idiots apart.”

He laughed and waved goodbye. Pausing at the doorway he glared at the two before threatening, “You guys better make sure she gets home safe or else Noya and I will make sure you’re going through hell the next time we see you.”

“Y-YES SIR!” they exclaimed and you rolled your eyes while walking to your bag to pack up your things.

Glaring at the two of them with your bag slung onto your shoulders, you went towards the basket of volleyballs to put it away.

“Go get your things, we’re going home.”

You and Kageyama walked in silence ever since Hinata darted off once you locked up the gym. The three of you usually went home together but knowing that they needed to cool down, you understood why Hinata decided to separate himself for now. You sighed to yourself after noticing that Kageyama never stopped frowning and his eyebrows furrowed deeply together. He was in deep thought, probably trying to analyze why things weren’t going right, and you just needed to find a small distraction to help him get out of his head. As you approached an intersection, you threw your hands behind your head.

“You know, you’re going to get wrinkles faster with the way you’re always frowning.” you said.

“Huh?!” he asked as he glared down at you and you looked at him from your peripherals, unphased by his reaction.

Without thinking, you reached up and pressed the spot between his eyebrows, causing his face to relax. He rolled his eyes at you before swatting away your hands and continued the way home.

“Whatever, you’re annoying.”

“I know you’re worried, but you have to realize that Shoyo is right to some degree.” you said.

He clicked his tongue but let you continue what you had to say.

“It’s true that your guys’ special quick attack is something that no one else can do, but your opponents are now being more attentive towards you guys.” you said as you came to a stop, waiting for the crosswalk to turn white.

“You’re also not wrong that there isn’t enough time and that you guys should be fine tuning the weapons you already have, but I believe in you two.” you finished softly and tugged on the strap of his bag.

He turned to see what had caught your attention and it was a kid’s volleyball flyer. You shrugged and said, “Maybe going back to your roots could help you realize what he sees and needs you to do.”

Kageyama sighed as the light changed for you guys to walk and silently continued to walk in front of you. You stared at his back while lost in your own thoughts for a bit. Hinata and Kageyama were complete opposites, yet they complimented each other’s play styles. You simply hoped that after this fight, they’d bounce back twice as strong. So for now, you were just going to do whatever you could to help them. Shaking any worries away, you matched his pace and stuffed your hands into the pockets of your team jacket. For the rest of the way back, the two of you were lost in their own thoughts. Once you reached your house, he squeezed your shoulder reassuringly and told you that he’ll text you once he gets home safely. With a defeated sigh, you prayed that things will slowly get better for the two boys.

#fly high!#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #Haikyu!!#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #kageyama #kageyama tobio #kageyama fluff #kageyama fanfiction #kageyama series #kageyama x reader #kageyama x you #kageyama x y/n #kageyama x fem!reader

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trueromantic1 · 3 years

Text

The Myth of Me and You Is Fiction Turned To Truth

Summary: After the events of both seasons (SVU 22x16 and OC 1x08), Olivia and Elliot find themselves in the unique position of knowing where there love story will end up, but having no idea what exactly will transpire to get them there. One thing they do know? Their love can only grow deeper, and that they’re bound to enjoy the journey.

Author’s Note: For the purposes of this story, SVU 22x16 ended on May 28 (canon) and OC 1x08 ended on June 4 (not canon). This picks up on June 7.

Title comes from Great Ones by Maren Morris. It’s definitely an EO song.

Rating: M, possibly Explicit eventually

ff.net: here

AO3: here

Her phone beeped, drawing her distracted gaze away from the paperwork in front of her. Seeing the text message notification lighting up the screen, Olivia took off her glasses and put her pen down, picked up the phone, and leaned back in her chair with a sigh as she unlocked it.

Can I buy you dinner? There’s news.

She frowned, trying to tell his mood from those few words. Realizing it would be impossible, she glanced out at the nearly empty squad room before hitting the call button instead.

“You didn’t have to call. I know you’re at work still Liv.” Judging by the voices she could hear in the background, he was still at work as well. She knew they’d been dealing with the lawyers and IAB ever since Morales turned out to be a mole and decided suicide by cop was the best way out.

“It’s fine El. I needed a break from the paperwork for a minute anyway. The one thing they never prepare you for is just how much paperwork you do when you’re in charge of a squad. So, what’s going on?”

He chuckled, and she could hear the creak as he leaned back in his own chair. “That’s what dinner is supposed to be for Liv. If I tell you now, what would be the point of dinner?”

She smiled, recognizing his tone as the slightly flirty one she’d been hearing more of ever since what was supposed to be Fin’s wedding. Neither one of them was ready to jump into a relationship, but they’d come to a silent understanding that night by the water. “I don’t know Elliot. We’ve never needed a reason for dinner before. Why don’t you just tell me the news now, and then you can come over to my place later and we’ll get Chinese. Noah’s taking advantage of it being summer vacation and is at a sleepover so his friend’s mom can take them to an early show of a ballet she worked on costumes for. Apparently, they allow friends and family to come for free on Tuesdays, but it’s normally during the school day.”

“Oh, I bet he’s excited. Sleepover during the week and going to a professional ballet performance?”

“Yes, he’s thrilled. It’s all he talked about all weekend. Now quit stalling Elliot. What’s going on?”

“I never could get one by you, could I? Okay. Well, Angela Wheatley woke up earlier today, and is expected to make a full recovery. Bell and Washburn went over to the hospital once they cleared her for visitors. And we’re finally supposed to be done dealing with IAB and the lawyers over this. We still have to wait for IAB’s official report, but I got the feeling none of us were going to get in trouble for what happened. They told Bell they’d already spoken to you as well, so you should be done with them for now too. And then on a more personal note, you remember I told you I was looking at apartments in the city? At Fin’s not-wedding and then that I had some more appointments the rest of that weekend? Well, I found one, and I went down and signed the lease today during lunch.”

“El, I’m glad things are working out with the case, and that IAB will be out of all of our hair. It’s still bothering me what exactly Richard Wheatley was planning with that fake text sending me to the hospital. But I guess we won’t know unless he decided to tell us. But way to bury the lead! El, that’s great! I can’t believe you found a place in just a week. You didn’t just settle for something did you? You need a good place for you and Eli to make a home.” She knew he’d been anxious about getting out of the one bedroom short-term he’d rented after Kathy’s death, so she hoped he’d taken his time to find something he really liked.

“It’s nice, knowing you worry about us. And thanks. Don’t worry, it’s actually a great place. Rent’s a little higher than I’d planned, but I can make it work. It’s about halfway between here and the one six actually. About two blocks from the school Eli will be going to, assuming they’re back to in person by then. And it’s a three bedroom two and a half bath, which I figure will come in handy if any of the kids decide to visit and don’t want to drive home ever. And it’s near a park, in case anyone else wanted to visit. I take possession this Sunday, and Bell gave me Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday off so I can get some stuff moved in. I’ve got some furniture scheduled for delivery on Monday.” The calm she’d been hearing more and more in the last few weeks shone through, which she knew was at least in part because he’d finally started talking to someone. But she thought a lot of it had to do with settling back into the city, since he’d confided that as much as they’d been happy in Italy, the energy had just never been exactly right to him.

“I’ll always worry El, you know that. I’m glad though. Now you and Eli have all summer to get settled in. Hopefully he’ll meet some of his future classmates, so he won’t fell so new when school starts back up. And you know, it just so happens, I might know someone who could come help you get things set up. You know, if you were interested.” She made sure to infuse her voice with a hint of suggestion, upping the playful flirting they’d been indulging in just a bit. She mentally patted herself on the back when she heard the hitch in his breath followed him clearing his throat. His next words, voice lowered and with a hint of a growl, proved he hadn’t lost a step either, as she felt herself flush with arousal and a corresponding dampness between her thighs that she was fast becoming reacquainted with that caused her to cross her legs and shift in her seat to try to alleviate the pressure.

“Is that so? Well, far be it from me to turn down someone willing to work up a sweat with me. Why don’t we discuss it more over dinner? I should be able to be to your place by 7, if that works for you.”

She checked the time, then the stack of papers she needed to finish, then glanced into the squad room. Seeing her people were now at their desks, folders open in front of them, she quickly calculated it’d be at least another hour before she could even think of leaving, especially if she planned to take three days off next week. “Make it 8?”

“8 it is. Want me to pick up our usual on my way over, or are we having it delivered?”

“Hmm, better pick it up. You know how busy they get. If you call it in when you leave, it’ll probably be just about ready by the time you get there.”

“Sound good. I’ll let you go so you can finish up all that paperwork. See you in a few hours Liv.”

“Alright. Bye El.” Hanging up, she pressed the phone against her chest a moment, savoring the warm feeling she always seemed to get when she talked to Elliot these days, before standing up and walking out into the squad room.

“Anything you guys haven’t finished by 7, you can leave until tomorrow. Short of a new case, you can all clock out then, since we’re currently between cases.” She turned to head back to her office and the stack of paperwork, but turned back around when Amanda spoke.

“Are you clocking out then too Cap? I know Noah’s at that sleepover. You shouldn’t stay late finishing paperwork anymore if we aren’t.” Her detective’s voice was concerned, and she realized just how much her stress and worry over the last three months must have shown, despite how hard she tried to hide it.

“Yes, he’s already called me to say goodnight, because apparently they will be too busy the rest of the night with sleepover stuff to worry about me. But don’t worry, I’m clocking out then too. Even if that pile of paperwork is only going to grow when you all turn in your paperwork.” She turned again, hoping to make it into her office before anyone thought too hard about her clocking out when she didn’t have to, but Fin’s teasing voice told her she was too late.

“You? Clock out early when you don’t have Noah waiting at home? What’s up? You got yourself a hot date or something?”

She was a Captain. Had been a police officer for over twenty years. She’d had to keep her cool when being questioned on the stand by lawyers all the time. But she knew, she knew, that she couldn’t hide the hitch in her step or the slight wince as he asked his question. Even as she turned back around, her face carefully blank, she knew he’d caught her. “Date? No, I don’t have a date. Who would I even have a date with?” Internally, she winced again as she heard a voice that sounded suspiciously like Elliot Stabler tell her that asking that many questions just made her sound defensive, and therefore all the more suspicious. Registering the varying degrees of shock on the three’s faces, she smirked to herself for surprising them at least.

“Oh, I don’t know. A certain Detective, maybe? I saw you two together at the ceremony, off in your own little world by the water. Almost like old times, ‘cept the flirting was a little too obvious.”

Trying to control the embarrassed flush she could feel, she internally cursed. She’d hoped everyone had been too preoccupied to pay attention to her and Elliot, but knew that had probably been too much to hope for. She knew the rumor mill had picked right back up when he’d returned, and people realized they were talking again. “Alright, yes, I’m meeting Elliot for dinner. But it’s not a date. We’re just going to do some catching up over Chinese. We haven’t really had much time to just talk since he came back.” She ignored the pointed look he shot her, and appreciated that Amanda and Kat at least pretended not to be interested, as she finally made it back into her office. She heard his footsteps though, saw him shut the door behind him as she sat down behind her desk.

“You sure about this? I just don’t want you getting hurt. Don’t forget, I was here when he left.” She could see the worry clouding his face, and resigned to give him the truth. After all, he’d been there for it all.

“I’m sure. We’re…Taking things slow. We’ve talked, and while neither one of us is ready to just jump straight into a relationship, we’ve discussed it, and have agreed that’s where we’re heading. So we flirt some, and we spend time together, and we talk. We’re not defining it yet. I know it sounds like dating, and maybe in a way it is. But what’s important to us is rekindling our friendship, first and foremost. We’ve already talked about why he left, how he left. And I’ve told him not only what it did to me, but I’ve told him what he missed. He was…Devastated. It turns out the whole family was in France at the time, and by the time the kids came back, it had already become old news. He swore he would have come back had he known, and I believe him. I’d always wondered if he’d just stopped caring, but if you’d seen how he looked, you’d have had to believe him too. So yes, I’m sure about this. We’re going to take things slow for now, but we know where we’re going to end up, even if we aren’t sure when that will happen. Speaking of Elliot though, I’m going to take a few personal days next week to help him get moved into his new place. He gets the keys on Sunday, and his furniture comes Monday.”

He still looked a little worried, but she could tell he would take her at her word. “If you say so. I have to say, I’m surprised you guys already talked about that. But I’m glad. You deserve to be happy Liv, and I think he’ll make you happy. And don’t worry, I’ll cover next week for you. And I’ll let the others know you’ll be taking some time, and make sure they don’t ask you any questions.” He turned and left the office, leaving the door open behind him as he went back to his desk, stopping to talk to Amanda and Kat on his way.

Putting her glasses on and picking up her pen, she smiled to herself as she went back to her paperwork. She still had a lot to work through before it was time to head out, though she was hoping the anticipation would make the time pass faster. Afterall, it wasn’t every day she got to head home to a hot meal and an even hotter man, not that she’d tell him that. His ego was already inflated enough.

#olivia x elliot #law and order fanfiction #olivia x elliot fanfiction #law and order: svu #law and order: oc #fanfiction

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steppedoffaflight · 4 years

Text

Summer’s a Knife - Chapter 1

“You know, if they’re really buggin’ you…” Van’s voice is quiet, but it cuts through the soft background noise of the street. He gives another one of his shrugs, as if what he’s about to say next isn’t important. “We could head back up to my room,” He finishes.

Your annual birthday trip with your best friend to San Diego ends in a chance encounter with Van McCann.

A/N: Clearly I’ve just created this blog and popped up out of nowhere, but I wanted somewhere separate to post my writing. This is a full length fic that is (almost) finished and I plan to post a new chapter once a week. It’s incredibly long and I’ve been working on this universe forever so if you’d like to come talk about it in my ask please do lmao.

Word count: ~11k

Chapter One

January 2019

Every single year you debate driving down to San Diego for your birthday.

But once you’re there, welcomed into the city by bustling shops and their neon signs, the smell of the ocean and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, the comfort of your usual hotel and the good company you bring with you, you never doubt this tradition.

It started three years ago, making this your fourth trip down here. At first it had been impulsive, a dangerous combination of your desire to run away after dealing with your family for the Christmas holidays and your best friend Mary’s down-for-anything attitude. You two had packed up and made the 3 hour drive from L.A., making a hotel reservation on the fly. After a relaxing weekend shopping, laying out on the beach, and forgetting about all the chaos of the holidays, you two returned back home refreshed, renewed, and determined to make this a usual thing.

And so it became. The next January you two made your return voyage, this time scheduling the trip so it landed on your birthday, which only amplified the excitement and festivities. That’s how the tradition remained; despite internal debates between you and Mary about whether you could afford it, and whether the drive was worth it when you could easily do something fun closer to home, you two faithfully continued to celebrate your birthday in this fashion.

This year is no different from any other, except for the addition of Theo, Mary’s boyfriend. She was dating him on your last birthday, but not long enough for you two to guarantee he wouldn’t spoil your fun. By this year, however, he was practically a second best friend to you, fitting into you and Mary’s clique nicely.

After a long, afternoon car ride in traffic under the blistering California sun and a two-hour debate over the music, the three of you have finally arrived and checked in to your hotel. And once you’re finally out on the hotel room balcony, looking down at the sprawling view of the beach and sparkling ocean, you know that despite your doubts this was so worth it.

After getting settled in and some light shopping, your first order of business is getting some food, preferably something greasy and carb-y. Thankfully, there’s a bar right across the street from the hotel that has excellent reviews and some amazing photos of bar burgers online, so you three decide to have dinner there.

It’s a quaint place, a narrow building fighting for sidewalk space, but considering its positive reputation and its proximity to the hotel it’s packed. It takes a good forty-five minutes to be seated at a small round table near the outer edge of the room, and still some time after that for someone to be available to place your orders, but eventually everyone has hot food and cold drinks.

And even after the food is gone the drinks keep flowing, the three of you ringing in your annual trip by ordering rounds of whatever drink name sounded the most interesting.

“You know,” Mary starts when Theo brings back a tray of mixed drinks that have sliced strawberries laying at the bottom of the glass, “I think that guy’s been staring at you.”

You roll your eyes. “Stop.”

“I’m serious!” Mary insists, her voice raising slightly. “I thought maybe he was into Theo, but he didn’t check him out when he went to get drinks. He’s been glancing at you.”

“Lost another man to Y/N,” Theo shrugs.

“You’ve lost zero men to me,” you correct him sternly, “Because men are not interested in me.”

“Not true!” Mary argues. “I’m literally watching someone be interested in you!”

“Is he a creep?” You lean forward to whisper. Mary keeps glancing over your shoulder, so you know he’s behind you, and you’re absolutely determined not to turn around and make a scene trying to take a peek at him.

“No! He seems normal.”

You sigh. She’ll never get off your case unless you humor her. “What’s he look like?”

Mary narrows her eyes, takes a long sip of her drink, and seems to mull over her next words. “Really… normal. Floppy kinda hair. But not in a Justin-Bieber-swoopy way, ya know? Clean shaven. Simple clothes. Can’t really see if he’s got tattoos or anything.”

You try to piece together a mental image. “What color hair?”

“Eh. It’s hard to see in this light. I think brown. Maybe black?”

“How do you know he’s looking at me?”

“He’s not like, staring at you,” Mary looks down quickly, pretends to be interested in the drink menu. “Oh fuck, I think he saw me looking.” She points to a random picture of a drink, pretending to look interested. “He’s mostly on his phone, but he’ll glance over once in a while.”

“Who’s he with?”

“Nobody. I think.”

“So he’s just sitting at a table alone?”

“He’s not at a table,” Mary chances a glance up. “He’s sitting at the bar. I haven’t seen him talk to anyone so yeah, I think he’s here alone.”

“Good to know,” you murmur, taking a long sip of your drink. “Anyway…”

Your efforts to get a new conversation going last for a little while, but Mary stays persistent.

“You should go get us another round,” She suggests.

You narrow your eyes at her, lifting your half-full glass. “We don’t need another round!”

“I do,” She insists, and with an obnoxious slurping noise she gulps up what’s left in her glass through her straw.

“That’s lovely,” You nod, “Enjoy grabbing yourself one.”

Theo snorts at that. Mary is not amused.

“Y/N!” She huffs.

“What?” An edge of irritation has crept into your voice from her persistence. “Why are you always trying to matchmake me? I’m just trying to enjoy my birthday weekend!”

“Hey, you’re the one that told me you wanted this year to be different for you! You know, try new things, put yourself out there, get out of your comfort zone, all that good stuff! What better place to put yourself out there than somewhere away from home?”

You let out a long, agitated sigh. Of course Mary would turn the heart-to-heart you guys had last week into excuses for her meddling.

“This isn’t what I meant,” You huff. “I didn’t mean pick up a random creepy stranger the second I get to San Diego! I more meant, like, I wanted to go on more dates! Have more nights out with you! Get a better job!”

“Plus,” You continue, encouraged by her silence, “I was talking about the year in general. No need to rush into this weekend!”

Mary lets you finish, listening carefully to your rebuttal. But you know better, bracing yourself for her next point after she takes a long sip of her drink.

“Obviously, you have all year.” She states it like it’s an obvious fact, adjusting the hair hanging over her shoulder. “But hear me out, and stay with me here: To set up the rest of the year so that you can enjoy yourself, like freely going on dates, you’re going to have to break your dry spell.” She says the last part with her hands pressed together in prayer position, her fingertips pointing towards you.

Mary lets the first part of her message sink in while it’s your turn to sip your drink. When you’re done you fidget with your straw, eager for something to do while your cheeks heat up in a mild blush. It’s not like it’s any secret that you’ve been busy and haven’t been on a date in a… long time, and as a consequence have not been having sex, but you can’t help but duck your head, feeling called out.

“So to enjoy the rest of the year, you’ve got to do some preparation. Like jumping in a pool, right? If you want to swim, you’ve got to get in the cold water first. So I’m saying have some fun this weekend, and then you’ll be warmed up to do all the crazy, uncomfortable shit you want to this year.”

She was right, but you won’t admit it. And even if she’s right, there’s still no chance, ever, in a million years, that you’re going to go hit on a random guy at the bar.

“Mary,” You say sternly, “I am not hitting on a random ass man in this bar. The end.”

Theo, well-accustomed to the bickering that occasionally happens between you guys, finally clears his throat. Mary doesn’t say anything either. It’s obvious that the conversation is over, and the matchmaking topic is best dropped for the time being.

You take the last sip of your drink, surprised when the straw slurps.

“I’m gonna go get another round,” You tell them, and don’t bother to take their orders. You use the moment to collect yourself, heading for the bathroom first, and that’s when you see him.

He’s just as Mary described; hunched over his phone, thumbing the screen while he takes idle sips from a bottle of beer. He’s in a dark jacket, collar pulled tight to his neck, and dark jeans. You can see his knee bouncing anxiously where it’s bent so that his feet can rest on the bar of the stool. As you pass by him, a necessary evil to get to the bathroom, he looks up. He looks away just as quick, but his eyes flit back to yours, the two of you making awkward eye contact for a millisecond before he’s looked away yet again. He sets his phone down on the bar, his fingers nervously running through his hair as he looks to the bartender as if he’s going to order, but you notice he doesn’t. You’re overly aware of the breeze between your bodies as you awkwardly step behind him, but once you’ve shimmied between him and another table you’re in the clear, ducking your head down and trying to make it to the bathroom a little faster.

When you head back to the table you make sure to walk around the perimeter of the room, avoiding the bar altogether.

The rest of the night is as fun as can be. Matchmaking topics are dropped, Mary is in a better mood when you return, and the drinks keep flowing until suddenly it’s last call.

“Aw,” Mary groans as the bartender makes the announcement a second time. “But I’m still having fun! What sort of bar in a city this busy isn’t open twenty-four hours?”

“That is pretty dumb on their part,” You nod. “They could make a lot of money.”

“Should we grab something? Or call it a night?” Theo asks, gesturing to his empty beer bottle.

“We have been here a while,” You realize when you check the time on your phone, which has been forgotten in the business of today. “Maybe we should call it a night.”

There’s a reluctant agreement to that until you guys stand up, shuffling your chairs back in place.

“Wait!” Mary exclaims, eyes shining as she throws her bag over her shoulder. “The hotel bar is open all night!”

Everyone’s mood seems to perk up at that suggestion, and you chew it over as you flip through your wallet, looking for some cash to pay your tab. You should probably be exhausted by now, considering the day you’ve had, but the hustle and bustle of the city at night makes it hard for you to feel tired.

“We could…” You trail off, glancing at Theo. He seems into the idea too, and by the time the three of you have paid your tabs and merged with the crowd of people heading for the doors, your plans to continue the night are set.

The sun had set when you guys make it outside, the sky blanketing the street in a navy blue, barely any stars visible from the light pollution. The neon light from the bar sign shines over the cement, and for a moment in the quiet air the chime of the door opening and closing is the only sound.

“C’mon,” Mary giggles, and you realize you've been swimming in your own thoughts, drunker than you expected to be. She leads the way, fearlessly dashing onto the street as you and Theo stumble behind. You can see headlights making their way towards you, but they’re far enough away and you cross safely.

As soon as the car passes, and the street is shrouded in darkness again, you see him. The guy in the dark jacket is crossing too, a little ways down the road, hands buried in his pockets, head bowed towards the ground.

Instantly his presence sets you on high alert, your stomach feeling uneasy and heart palpitating. Theo and Mary are already headed through the hotel doors and you follow behind them, praying the guy hasn’t seen you. He was far enough down the street that it didn’t seem like he was coming to the hotel, but you can’t shake the fear that there’s a sinister connection between the way Mary and Theo said he couldn’t take his eyes off of you and the way you were both headed in the same direction.

The hotel lobby is warm and glowing, and despite the late hours there are still people bustling about. You usher Mary and Theo away from the doors under the guise of trying not to block anyone’s way. You check over your shoulder in a fit of paranoia, but there’s no strange man in a dark jacket to be seen through the glass. You breathe a small sigh of relief.

“I need to go back up to the room,” Mary announces, and you see she’s examining herself in the black screen of her phone. “My makeup’s smeared everywhere.”

“I’m sure mine is too,” You agree. “Let’s head up there real quick.”

“I’m gonna go have a smoke, then,” Theo says, “So just come meet me out there when you’re done. Don’t take forever!”

You and Mary promise not to take too long before heading for the elevators, unsteady on your feet and overly giggly.

You realize that Mary was right as one of you finally gets the room key to work, and you both dash to fix yourselves up as quick as you can. You didn’t feel the slightest bit tired, and instead you were actually excited to keep the night going. Maybe it was just the alcohol pumping through your veins, but you felt a sudden surge of gratefulness for her as you dabbed away a bit of smeared mascara from your under eye.

“You were right,” you say out loud.

Mary is leaned over the bathroom sink next to you, and you watch her eyebrows furrow. “About what?”

“Tonight,” You say, grabbing for your hairbrush. San Diego humidity has made your hair resemble a frizzy bird’s nest, and you try to smooth it back out. “It’s just got that kind of vibe, you know? You were right about needing a round two.”

“Right?” Mary gestures with her hands, makeup sponge almost hitting you in the face.

“You’re good at getting me out of my comfort zone,” You admit.

“Exactly!” Mary seems overjoyed at this admission, and she turns to you, putting her hands on your shoulders. “That’s what best friends are for! That’s my fucking job! And I’m fucking good at it!”

You two realize how drunk you sound and burst out laughing, steadying yourselves on the marble counter.

“Okay, okay,” You say as you start to catch your breath, “C’mon, Theo’s waiting!”

“Ah, fuck him,” Mary jokes, gathering up her things and shoving them back into her purse before following you out into the hall.

“Speaking of,” Mary groans, before bringing her phone up to her ear. “Hi, babe!” She chirps happily, before rolling her eyes at you. You can’t stifle your laughter.

“We’re headed downstairs right now,” Mary confirms as she pushes the call button on the elevator. “Okay, we’ll come to you.”

Down in the lobby, you two navigate your way out of the hotel and around the corner of the building, based on the instructions Theo had given Mary on the phone.

“Hey,” Mary greets Theo when she rounds the corner. You’re right behind her, but when you turn the corner you stop in your tracks.

“Hey, guys,” Theo greets you both easily. Mary is tucking herself under his arm while another figure standing next to him watches. You recognize the dark jacket instantly, and your mouth goes dry.

You realize you’re an awkward distance away from your friends, and force yourself to step closer, watching the other man take a puff of his cigarette.

“This is Van,” Theo tells you both, taking a drag of his cigarette. He exhales before motioning between you two. “Van, this is Mary, my girlfriend, and this is Y/N, her best friend.”

“Ah, Mary, that’s me mum’s name,” the british accent that comes out of the stranger startles you, and you watch as Van reaches his hand out for a handshake with Mary. “Lovely name,” He laughs. Mary takes his hand happily, and they laugh about her name for a brief moment before he’s suddenly turned to you.

“And Y/N, that’s a great name too,” You can see his grin in the darkness. “Don’t know anyone named that, but it’s a lovely name regardless.” He extends his hand to you, and you swallow thickly as you take it. His hand envelops yours, and there’s a warmth that lingers even after the handshake is done.

“So’s Van,” You say after you’ve realized how impolite your silence must seem. “Never met anyone with that name either.”

“Yeah, It’s after Van Morrison,” He quips, “But when I was born my name was Ryan. Bet you’ve met someone with that name.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Mary speaks up suddenly. You smile at the mention of an ex-fling.

“Bad associations, huh?” Van seems to find it funny, beaming at her. “Well everyone calls me Van, so hopefully that’ll be alright.”

“Anyway, before you guys walked out, I was just telling Van that he should join us tonight,” Theo chimes in. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“Yeah!” Mary, of course, is all for the idea even as your stomach continues to do somersaults. How strange was it that this guy actually was headed for the hotel? And even more strange that he ended up chatting with Theo!

Thankfully nobody notices your silence as Van tries to brush off the invite, Theo and Mary playfully pressuring him into it.

“Please!” Mary begs, “It’ll be so fun. It’s Y/N’s birthday, so the more the merrier!”

Van turns back toward you, face still covered in the grin that hasn’t left from the moment he shook your hand.

“Is it really?” He inquires, cocking his head.

“Tomorrow, technically,” You explain. “As in, it’s past midnight right now, so there’s all of today, and then it’s my birthday.”

“Oh, cheers, happy birthday. How old are ya?”

“Gonna be 24.”

“Ah, I loved 24,” Van lights up, taking a puff of his cigarette before gesturing with his hands. “One of the best years ever. Had the best fucking time.”

“How old are you, then?” You can’t help but ask.

“‘M 26. Gonna be 27 in the summer.”

“Oh. You made it sound like you were way older. Scared me.” The nagging anxiety that he’s some murderer that’s stalking you still tugs at your chest, but something about him keeps the conversation flowing, you volunteering information without thinking about it.

“Nah. Seems like forever ago, though.”

“So you’ll get drinks with us?” Mary cuts in excitedly.

“Well, I guess that’s up to the birthday girl,” Van laughs, gesturing to you. “Am I invited to the party?”

All of the sudden Theo, Mary, and Van are looking at you expectantly, and what were you supposed to do then?

“I mean, why not?” You can’t help but laugh, more in disbelief at how this night is turning out. “Like Mary said, the more the merrier, right?”

“Mary’s are always right,” Van nods in agreement. Him and Theo snuff out their cigarettes on the sidewalk before heading around the corner back towards the main doors.

You and Mary lag behind, Mary silently clapping in encouragement and you widening your eyes in an attempt to portray your anxiety.

“You said I was right about tonight!” She hisses as you two head through the front doors.

“About having more drinks!” You hiss back. “He’s some weirdo that’s been watching me all night and then followed me to the hotel!” You glance around for him, worried he heard, but thankfully you spot him with Theo heading into the hotel bar.

“Because you’re both at the same hotel and went across the street for drinks?” Mary asks, dubious. “He seems super nice!”

Your conversation dies out as you follow the boys to the table. It’s a small four-seater nestled in the corner, and with Mary naturally sitting next to Theo that leaves you next to Van.

In a quick motion Van’s grabbed the back of your chair from where he’s sitting, pulling it out for you.

“Oh, thanks,” You tell him, taken aback as you sit down.

“No problem,” He says casually, turning back towards Theo and continuing their conversation. You and Mary make eye contact, her eyes widening in what you can tell is pure delight.

“Let’s grab drinks,” Mary announces suddenly, hand coming to rest on Theo’s arm. He goes with her easily, leaving you and Van alone for a moment.

“I never get used to this kind of thing,” Van says. He turns toward you, but he’s looking past you at the rest of the bar. “Places being so busy at night.”

“That’s L.A. for you,” You sigh. “I guess technically we aren’t in L.A. right now, though. But still.”

Van nods in understanding. “Are you from L.A?”

“No,” You shake your head. “I’m from the midwest. From a much, much smaller town. But I live in L.A.”

“Ah. I’ve got a place there, too,” He tells you.

“Obviously you’re not from there,” You say, unable to help the smile that makes its way onto your face at the unspoken joke.

Van’s signature grin is back. “Obviously not,” He laughs. “Nah, I’m from somewhere much, much smaller, too. From the U.K., obviously.”

“Obviously,” You echo him, and you two share a smile before drinks are being set on the table, Mary and Theo having returned.

“So, Van,” Mary begins as she hands out everyone’s drinks. Van must’ve told Theo what he wanted, because there’s one for him that he accepts graciously. “What brings you to San Diego?”

“I’m in a band, actually. We’re called Catfish and the Bottlemen,” Van admits, taking a sip of his beer. “We’re on tour right now. Had a show here tonight.”

“No way! Where did you guys play?”

“The House of Blues.”

Mary sputters on her drink. “Holy shit!”

Van laughs, taking another sip. “Yeah, it was fucking incredible.”

“Sounds amazing,” Mary agrees. “We’ll have to check you guys out!”

“Yeah, for sure,” Van nods eagerly. “Y/N was just sayin’ she lives in L.A., next time we’re around there I could get you guys some tickets.”

“That’d be perfect,” Mary beams at him.

“You’re up late!” You can’t help but blurt out. You’d checked your phone while Mary and Van were talking, and it’s closer to morning than you thought.

You realize everyone at the table is looking at you and clear your throat, putting your phone face down back on the table. “I just mean, aren’t you exhausted? After doing a whole show?”

“Nah,” Van shrugs. “It’s such a rush, the adrenaline keeps me going after. I can’t just head back to the hotel and go to sleep. Keeps my heart pumping, you know?”

You nod, even though you can’t personally identify with the experience. Just like that, any awkwardness from your random exclamation is soothed away from Van’s laid-back response, and as conversation continues to flow easily again you can’t help but marvel at his charisma. Maybe Mary was right about him not being a potential murderer.

Van’s the first to notice when everyone’s low on drinks, and politely offers to go grab another round. Everyone else had been too preoccupied in their current discussion, which consisted of questioning Van on the different aspects of U.K. culture and stereotypes.

“Y/N, go help him,” Mary tells you, peering at you over the rim of her almost-empty glass. You blush and roll your eyes, but you listen.

Van’s already standing at the bar, so you try to strategize the least awkward way to come up behind him. Thankfully, he sees you out of the corner of his eye, turning towards you and giving you a small smile.

“Hey,” You start nervously, leaning on the countertop next to him. “Just thought you could use some help carrying this stuff back.”

“I could, actually,” Van smiles gratefully. “I ordered it before I realized there were four of us. Was kinda hoping you’d be the one to come help.”

You blush at his words, but try desperately not to read too much into it. “Sorry,” You say suddenly, and Van’s head cocks in confusion.

“About us grilling you back there,” You explain. “I’m sure you get those questions all the time. It’s probably annoying.”

Van’s easy-going shrug makes another appearance while you two watch the bartender mix up your drinks.

“I don’t mind,” He replies. “You guys are proper funny. Anything you wanna know, I’m happy to tell ya.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, another potentially awkward moment dissolving.

Midway through his beer, Van starts shouldering on his coat, which had been hanging on the back of his chair. Your stomach sinks as you realize this is probably his way of saying goodbye.

“Gonna head out for a smoke,” He tells the table, then nods to Theo. “You need one?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Theo declines, but there’s an edge to his voice that sounds like he’s being dishonest. You mull over why he just wouldn’t go have one when Mary pipes up.

“Y/N, you look like you need some air.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

Van hesitates where he’s been pushing his chair back in.

“You’ve been yawning,” Mary explains, and her eyes widen at you for just a quarter of a second, trying to convey an urgent message. “Go get some fresh air.”

You can already feel your stomach tying itself in knots at the idea of being alone with Van. It was one thing to enjoy easy conversation with him in a group setting, never mind how he’s had to iron out your awkwardness more than once. It was a whole other thing to go pester him when you’re sure he wanted a minute alone. You stay frozen in your seat.

“Can’t have you yawning,” Van says from behind you, and you feel the back of his hand brush your shoulder playfully. “C’mon.”

You swallow hard but give in to the peer pressure, slowly rising from your seat. You glare at Mary before you turn to Van, who nods his head towards the door as you two head out together.

It’s a silent walk outside and around the corner, to the same spot you’d first met Van in just a couple hours prior. He fishes a box of cigarettes out of his coat pocket and pops one into his mouth, offering the open box to you.

“You smoke?” He inquires.

“No,” You tell him, and he goes to put the box back. “But gimme one,” You say quickly.

Van doesn’t question it, offering the box to you again. You pick one and Van fishes out a lighter.

“Ladies first,” He hums around his cigarette, and offers the flame of his lighter to you. Once your cigarette is lit he lights his own, and you watch him visibly relax as he takes his first drag.

Off the top of your head, you figure it’s been at least a year since you’ve had a cigarette. You’ve never done it as a habit, but you’re not opposed to having one on occasion, especially on nights like these when your nerves were making you crawl out of your skin. The taste isn’t pleasant, but it’s familiar, and it soothes you.

“I’m sorry about them,” You apologize after you two have had a moment of peace and quiet. “They’re being… obnoxious.”

Van tips his head back, exhaling a puff of smoke and laughing at the same time. “Ah, don’t be. I love ‘em.”

“That makes one of us,” You joke, soliciting another laugh from Van.

Silence lapses over you two, and it leaves too much space for you to realize how attractive he is, sneaking glances at his face the way you have been all night. You catch him looking at you and quickly divert your eyes down to the pavement. But when you look back up, he’s still looking.

Your stomach squeezes, sending any butterflies in there into an absolute frenzy. You stare at him in absolute shock as you try to process what he’s said.

“Or your room, if you prefer,” He tacks on, punctuating his offer with an inhale of his cigarette.

As he smokes you remember your own cigarette and take a puff from it, buying yourself time to try and weigh your options. It was hard to think rationally with your heart about to pound out of your chest, but in general the more the possibility turned over in your mind, the more your mind ticked off reasons it was a good idea; You were attracted to him, and if anything went wrong, you’d be in the safety of the hotel. Plus, besides for the fake-stalking incident you overreacted about, he hasn’t triggered one red flag, which is more than you can say about any date you’ve had in the past year.

“Well, considering we’re sharing a room,” You start, exhaling smoke, “it’s probably best if we go back to yours.”

Van laughs at that, tipping his head back to rest against the brick wall. “My room it is.”

You both finish up your cigarettes with a poignant silence hanging between you. It makes your mouth go dry and your hands shake, nerves getting the best of you, and you conceal it the best you can from Van, who seems cool as a cucumber. He’s looking at you openly now, desire written clearly on his face, and it feels like the temperature outside is rising when you meet his gaze.

“Ready to head back in?” He asks, done with his cigarette first, stomping it out.

You follow suit. “Yeah.”

Van keeps pace with you as you two head back into the hotel walking side-by-side, his hands buried in his pockets. He gets the lobby door for you, gesturing dramatically, and you laugh, feeling some of your anxiety melt away.

“I have to grab my bag,” You tell him as you two head for the elevators, which is past the hotel bar. “And tell them where I’m going.”

“Course,” Van replies, letting you lead the way to the bar.

You turn to him just as you’re about to walk in. “What’s your room number?”

A slight smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “337,” He tells you.

He hangs back as you head to the table, the gravity of what you’re about to tell Mary and Theo finally hitting you.

“Hey guys,” You say nervously as you approach. They’re wide-eyed and silent, obviously curious about how your moment alone with Van had gone.

“So, I’m gonna head up to his room,” You explain slowly, grabbing your bag off of the seat of your chair. “He’s in room 337 in case I go missing.”

“No way!” Mary exclaims, and you see her peering around your body towards where Van is standing. “I can’t fucking believe this!”

“Are you guys gonna be okay without me?” You ask. You’re mostly kidding, but there’s an edge to your voice. “I mean, this is for my birthday and all, so if you wanted me to stick around I-”

“Oh my god,” Mary says, exasperated, but she’s grinning. Theo is too. “Shut up and go! Get on with it!” She makes an exaggerated shooing gesture with her hands, before she mimes pushing you away from the table.

“Remember to use a condom!” Are her parting words as you head back to where Van’s leaned against the wall by the entrance.

“Like I said…” You say as you approach, knowing he’s seen the entire exchange even if he couldn’t hear it. He’s beaming, and when you look over your shoulder you see Theo and Mary giving you both a thumbs up, waving you away. “...Sorry about them.”

Van doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, leading the way to the elevator. It’s pretty late, the amount of people awake at this hour starting to become sparse, so the elevator comes immediately when Van calls it. Predictably, he lets you on first before he trails behind, punching the button for his floor.

The wait for the elevator to make it to the third floor is about as awkward as it usually is, maybe a little less considering there were no strangers in your breathing space. You flip through your phone even though it’s got no service and nothing will load, and Van opts to gaze around, looking lost in thought. When the elevator comes to a halt and the doors slide open, Van presses his hand to the seam of the doors so you can safely exit before he follows.

“Do you always let everyone go first?” You can’t help but ask as he leads you down the hall and around a corner.

“Um,” He seems confused at the question as he pats his pockets, clearly looking for the room key. “I mean, it’s different with my mates, but usually I do. Is that not something you do here?”

“Holding the door? Yeah, sure, but I’ve never met anyone who does it as… consistently as you.”

Van’s found the key card in the inner pocket of his jacket, and he comes to a stop in front of room 337.

“Raised with good manners, I guess,” Is his explanation as he gets the room unlocked. He turns the knob but still lets you in first, your bodies brushing slightly in the narrow doorway. It gives you goosebumps.

You don’t know what you were expecting to walk into, but you’re pleasantly surprised that his room is just like any other suite. It’s a bit more spacious than yours, but that’s due to the fact he’s only got one bed, a king bed that looks so soft it practically makes your eyes water. It’s still impeccably made, the entire room untouched except for his luggage arranged nicely by the room air conditioning unit.

“This room is nice,” He remarks from behind you after he’s put the chain on the door. “I haven’t been in here yet, not gonna lie, I was a little nervous about what we’d be walking in to.”

“Whose stuff is that?” You ask in confusion, pointing at the suitcases.

“Oh, that’s mine. Someone from the crew brings ‘em up.”

“I see,” You murmur, as Van shrugs his jacket off and slings it over the chair resting at the desk.

“Want something to drink?” He asks, and when you look at him you notice there’s a gift basket resting on the desk, a corked bottle of wine and glasses perfectly arranged inside.

“Yeah, sure,” You agree, setting your purse down on the desk while he procures a corkscrew from the basket.

“I’m gonna freshen up real quick,” You tell him as he goes about trying to open the bottle. You linger for just a moment, watching the way the tip of his tongue sticks out of his mouth in concentration and the fabric of his button up shirt strains over his arms before you walk away.

When you come back into the room Van’s sitting on the bed against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him and crossed over each other. He’s messing around on his phone, and on each of the bedside tables there’s a full glass of red wine, Van’s with slightly less than yours.

“Jeez, at least take your shoes off,” You laugh, his black boots looking sorely out of place on the white duvet. He looks up at you, then, his gaze following you while you make your way to the empty side of the bed and take a seat.

“Just my shoes?” He inquires, a mischievous smile appearing. But he sets his phone aside, leaning forward and unzipping his boots, chucking them off.

“And your socks, duh,” You joke, and he obeys, and soon his bare feet are exposed.

“That all?” He asks, the pitch of his voice lower than it’d been a second ago. It makes your heart skip a beat, and you swallow thickly.

In a sudden rush of boldness you reach over, giving the fabric of his button up a quick tug. “This too, maybe.”

“Ah, but it’s got so many buttons,” Van says in faux-concern. It’s so cheesy, and you can tell he knows it from the grin on his face, but you climb up onto your knees on the bed anyway.

“I can help,” You try to keep a straight face while you say it, but a laugh manages to bubble up despite your best efforts. Still, it doesn’t stop you from completing the task, undoing his buttons only to reveal a black t-shirt underneath.

“Sort of anti-climactic,” You tell him.

“S’ exactly why I needed help,” He tells you, leaning forward. “Two is just too much work.”

You slide your palms over his shoulders, easing the button up off of him. The slide of your hands against his arms is the first real skin-on-skin contact you’ve had, and the feeling of his smooth skin and soft hairs is strange and exciting.

“There you go,” You hum, tossing the shirt away from the bed. There’s a moment of panic where you wonder if maybe he’s someone who’s particular about his clothes, and you could’ve just thrown some sort of priceless designer shirt on the floor like it was nothing. But from the way he’s looking at you it’s clear a shirt on the floor is the last thing on his mind, and you exhale in relief.

“Alright, round two,” You say quietly, but Van shakes his head.

“I’ve got this one,” He murmurs. “Just needed help with the buttons.” One of the corners of his mouth quirks up, and suddenly he’s pinched the hem of your shirt between his index finger and his thumb and given it a slight tug. “You worry about yours.”

You oblige, trying to get your top over your head as gracefully as possible. Van’s tugged his t-shirt off in record time, and you jump when you feel his cold hands help you get your shirt the rest of the way off.

Instinctually you go for his belt, starting to get into the rhythm of how these things go. He lays there quietly while you get it unbuckled and tuck your fingers against the warm skin of his stomach to unbutton his jeans, and tilts his hips up obediently so you can shimmy them down his legs.

There’s a heavy moment where you take him in, laying back against the headboard in only his briefs. He’s got a smattering of dark hair no matter where you look; over his thighs, on his chest, in a thin line making its way under the waistband of his underwear.

“No fair.” Van finally interrupts your gazing. “I’m the only one not wearing pants.”

It takes all your willpower to rip your eyes away from his form, but you stand up from the bed, unbuttoning and starting to peel your skin tight jeans off of your legs. He watches you the whole time, and you blame his gaze and your self-consciousness for throwing you off balance as you kick your pants off of your ankles, almost falling over.

Van is sitting up straight in a flash, his hand shooting out to steady you. It lands on your hip, his fingers digging into the skin right above your underwear, and you look up at him, gasping in a mix of mortification and surprise.

“Ya good?” Van asks quietly as you steady yourself.

“Yeah, yeah,” You assure him, although you can feel your face heating up from the blunder. Van withdraws his hand and it feels like the most frustrating thing in the world, your body screaming for more.

“Sorry,” You apologize nervously as you get back on the bed, making your way over Van’s long legs and settling down next to him.

Van seems amused at your apology. “No worries,” He assures you, turning his head so he’s facing you. His face is way too close, self consciousness burning through you as you two examine each other from mere inches away.

His hand comes to rest on your side again, this time landing on the skin right under the band of your bra, and before you can inevitably make the moment awkward by any means necessary he’s leaned in, and your lips melt together.

It’s a bit chaste, but definitely not the worst kiss you’ve ever received. After a few beats Van pulls away.

“Sorry,” He grunts, shifting his body weight. “This is such a weird way to sit. My arm’s getting crushed.” He tries to move himself from where he’s pinned his shoulder against the headboard in order to face you.

You make the snap decision in that moment to slide down from where you’re sitting so that you’re laying down.

“Here,” You tell him, “Let’s try it this way.”

From the way Van’s eyes travel up and down your body, you know he’s caught your drift.

“Yeah,” He smirks, laying down next to you. With a few minor adjustments he’s got most of his body weight pressing you down onto the bed, his nose just barely brushing yours. “This might work a bit better.”

Then he’s kissing you again. You’ve already got the chills from the way his body is pressing tight against yours, but once the kiss deepens, Van’s tongue pressing into your mouth, you can’t help but shiver. Van feels it and must think you’re cold, because a second later his palm is rubbing over your arm like he’s trying to warm you up.

Any trace of chastity or awkwardness from the initial kiss has completely disappeared, revealing Van’s true talents as a kisser, and with every second that passes you feel him climbing up your makeout leaderboard. His mouth is absolutely incredible, and tastes like the glass of red wine he’s got sitting on the nightstand, and you can’t get enough, your hand instinctively coming to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck. You don’t expect him to moan, the sound so satisfying your body reacts on it’s own, your back arching as much as it possibly can with him pressing you down. It only encourages Van, who exhales sharply out of his nose, the hot air brushing over your cheek, the kiss becoming more desperate.

You two separate to breathe, every inhale causing Van’s chest to brush against yours.

“Christ,” Van says quietly, and the way his voice is rough around the edges sends another shiver down your spine. He gets off of you, sitting up and reaching over for his glass of wine. You take the opportunity to sit up too, unclipping your bra and sending it over the edge of the bed. You cup your breasts in your hands, not yet ready for Van to see you exposed, but you work up some courage after a few moments, letting them go in favor of using your hands to shimmy out of your underwear.

There’s the soft clink of Van setting his wine glass back down, and when you dare to glance over at him his expression is neutral, his eyes flitting over you.

“No fair,” You start, but have to stop to clear your throat. Van’s eyes dart up to meet yours, listening intently.

“I’m the only one naked,” You parrot his joke from earlier, and give him a nervous smile.

“Yeah,” Van’s long fingers come up to scratch at his jaw. “I guess that isn’t very fair.” Within a handful of seconds he’s chucked his briefs on the floor.

He changes position then so that he’s resting on his knees, and you hold your breath while you get a proper look at him for the first time.

“Oh-” You start to speak, but you’ve got the common sense to swallow the rest of the sentence.

Van stills, waiting for you to finish.

“You’re… British,” You say sheepishly.

Van chuckles, looking down at himself. “M’ uncut,” He voices your exact thoughts.

You gulp, nodding, hoping you didn’t ruin the moment.

“Same thing underneath,” Van murmurs, wrapping a hand around himself. With the slide of his wrist the foreskin moves back, revealing the flushed head of his dick. “See? Works just the same,” he quips cheerfully, looking up at you.

“Right.” You nod. “Good to know.”

The kissing resumes after you two lay down again and Van can’t keep his hands off of you, stroking at your sides and stomach and eventually your thighs.

“This alright?” He asks, pointedly brushing one of his knuckles against your inner thigh.

“Yeah, yeah” you choke out, spreading your legs so he’s got access to you.

The first press of his soft, tentative fingertips against you makes your eyes squeeze shut, but you can’t hold back your moan when he starts working in tight circles.

He teases his way lower and lower, the only sound in the room your harsh breathing and your heartbeat pounding in your ears. When he starts to feel his way inside, slowly and methodically easing in two fingers, your back arches up off of the mattress.

“Van-” You breathe, and feel his stomach clench from hearing his name.

“You can just-” It’s hard to get the words out with the way he’s pumping. “You should stop,” You manage finally. “We can just get started.”

Van’s fingers still, and you blink your eyes open slowly, greeted to his face mere inches from yours, his hooded eyes watching you.

“Yeah, I…” You breathe out, your face burning in self consciousness at the thought of him watching your face throughout that. “I’m definitely ready.”

“If you’re sure,” Van says slowly, and you feel his fingers slide out of you, leaving an awful empty feeling in their wake.

“Definitely sure,” You tell him, eager to feel full again. “Do you want me to…” You trail off, but Van understands the unspoken rest of your sentence.

“Probably best if you don’t,” He laughs quietly. “It’ll be over before things even get started.”

You nod against the pillows in understanding, and Van rolls over, hanging off of the edge of the bed for a moment until he rights himself, leather wallet in hand.

You watch him procure a condom from one of the folds, and then he’s getting up on his knees, shuffling so he’s in between your legs before ripping the wrapper and sliding it on.

“You settled? You ready?” He asks you, one hand on himself, the other resting on your hip, warm and reassuring.

“Yeah,” You tell him, nervously adjusting the way your knees are bent.

“Alright,” Van says quietly, and it sounds like it’s more meant for himself. There’s a few quiet moments and the sound of the duvet rustling before you feel the head of him press against you, warm and persistent, and your body adjusts for him instinctively, letting him inside.

It’s been a while since the last time you’ve had sex, but thankfully the warm mix of attraction and your drinks from earlier leave your body relaxed. Van looks like he feels the same, any tension in his face dissolving as he eases in, replaced instead by what looks like pure relief. You feel it too, sighing contentedly.

When Van’s done pressing in, the heady feeling making it hard to breathe, you two make eye contact, the spell that had you two so engrossed in yourselves broken.

“Good?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Good,” You affirm. “Now get going.”

You say the last part with a smile that Van returns, and without further ado he starts trying to find the rhythm. He tests a few out while you shift your hips, attempting to find the perfect angle, and after a moment there’s a palpable feeling that you two have gotten it right, punctuated by Van’s sharp intake of breath.

The sound catches you off guard, in sync with another push in, and you gasp in surprise, one of your hands reaching out to grasp at the blankets. It only encourages Van to stay persistent in his thrusts, and you can’t help but groan.

“God,” You croak out. You release your death grip on the blankets, instead putting your hand on his back. You’re careful not to scratch him, but the feeling of him fucking you is amplified with the way you can feel his muscles strain under your hand. “Van,” You breathe.

You kept it quiet, the remnants of your usual self-consciousness still floating around in your head, but you can tell he’s heard.

“Ah, fuck,” Van moans, long and low, and your other hand comes up to grasp at him wherever it can reach as you feel the steady pulse of sparks down your spine.

Your hand lands on his shoulder blade, and it’s as if you’ve given Van some sort of unspoken permission. He leans forward, your lips meeting in a wet and clumsy kiss. It’s more panting in each other’s faces than it is actual making out, but your hand still slides from his shoulder to his jaw, taking care of guiding the kiss while he’s in his distracted state.

You can feel him starting to come apart, missing a beat with his hips every so often and letting out a whine when you take charge of deepening the kiss, tilting his jaw with slightly more force than necessary so you can lick into his parted lips. You’re getting close too, so you decide to let go of his face, instead slipping a hand between your bodies so you can start to rub at yourself.

Van’s head sinks down to your neck, kissing at any skin he can reach while you cry out at all the sensations your body’s trying to take in at once.

There’s a shift of Van’s body weight, his lips leaving your neck. You want to yell at him for taking his lips off of you but you’re too preoccupied with getting your fingers to match the pace he’s set, every moment in sync taking you closer to the edge.

Without any warning there’s the warm brush of the pad of his thumb against your nipple, and your whole body jolts with it.

You’re too distracted to moan but your jaw falls slack. That’s all the approval Van seems to need, starting a very light pace with his thumb, brushing over you back and forth.

“Is it good?” He asks quietly, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

You can hardly form a proper word with your mouth. “Huh?”

“This bit,” Van clarifies, and his thumb rubs your nipple more insistently. “Do you like that?”

“Yeah,” You manage, your eyes squeezing shut, closer than you thought. You can sense that Van understands the gravity of the moment, his movements all becoming very precise and impeccably consistent.

“Don’t stop,” You can’t help but beg.

“Won’t,” Van assures you quietly, and he holds true to his word, fucking into you and circling your nipple without fail as you feel your orgasm start to crash down upon you, squirming and calling out through the entire thing.

You lay there catching your breath when you’re done, Van free to set his own rhythm to get himself to the finish line. He speeds up, setting a frantic pace that you can hear as your skin slaps together with his.

“What do you need?” You slur, removing your hand from yourself in favor of rubbing over his back again.

“Nothin’,” Van answers, his voice tight and slightly higher-pitched. “Nothin’.”

You stay quiet, leaving him to it, and after a few ragged breaths you can feel the way his whole body goes rigid, thrusting fast but shallow as he rides out his climax, burying his head in your shoulder and biting down hard.

You yelp in surprise from the pinch of his teeth, but let him stay there until he’s done, when he releases you with a long, content sigh.

There’s nothing said as you two catch your breath, your brain attempting and failing to find words for the experience.

“Shit,” Van sighs after your breathing has slowed.

“Holy shit,” You agree. You’ve been looking up at the ceiling, but you turn to look at him. The angry red indent from his teeth against your shoulder catches your peripheral vision, and you crane your neck more fully, examining the crooked lines of his teeth pressed into your skin.

“Sorry,” Van says. “I didn’t mean to hurt ya.”

It’s so refreshingly sincere, so different from the few other apologies you’ve received from men during sex, their smug faces usually indicating their value for their pleasure over yours. You actually laugh.

“Totally fine,” You tell him, and you mean it.

Van heaves himself up from where he’d flopped down, half on top of you and half on the bed, and carefully pulls out, the sensation of the heavy condom sliding out of you making you cringe. You watch his long fingers tie it off before he clamors off of the hotel bed on shaky legs, depositing it in the garbage by the coffee maker before nipping off to the bathroom.

“Ugh,” You sigh, starfishing out your limbs on the empty bed.

“Do you care if I don’t go back to my room right this second?” You ask Van as soon as he emerges from the bathroom.

“Whatever you wanna do,” Van shrugs. As he approaches his side of the bed he starts to tug the duvet down. “At least get under the sheets with me.”

You shimmy your way under the sheets, your body melting with the heavenly feeling.

“Mind if I shut the lamp off? It’s starting to give me a headache shining in my eyes.” He asks.

You dismiss his concerns with a wave of your hand. “Go ahead.”

With a click the room is shrouded in darkness, the only exception being the blue glow of Van’s phone.

You yawn. “What time is it?”

“Five.”

“Are you not tired?” You ask him around another yawn. “Even after your show and everything?”

His smile looks tired. “My body’s on a different time.”

“Oh.” You curl up under the covers. “I’ll go in a second, I promise. I’m just fucking exhausted. Unlike you.”

Van snorts in amusement, but you miss his facial expression, your heavy eyelids falling shut.

You wake up to the echo of running water and the glow of the lamp painting your eyelids red.

You squirm, tugging the blanket around your head so you can peacefully return to sleep, but as you start to doze off the water abruptly stops, and you can hear the clatter of Van getting out of the shower.

Soon he comes out of the bathroom, singing softly under his breath as you hear the rip of different zippers through the air.

You kick your legs out, shuffling around sleepily. “What time is it?”

“Seven thirty. Sorry if I woke you. I was trying to let you get a couple hours of sleep in.”

“Did you sleep at all?” You ask him, concerned, as you peer over where he’s bent in front of a suitcase, hair dripping wet and a white hotel towel wrapped around his waist.

“I slept for a good hour,” He shrugs, before he’s gotten what he needs and heads back into the bathroom. “Probably steal a couple more on the bus.”

“Where are you headed next?” You can’t help but ask, raising your voice so he can hear you from the other room.

“Got no idea, to be honest,” Van tells you. He stands in the bathroom doorway, in the process of running a brush through his hair. “That’s a good question for Steve, actually.”

“Our tour manager,” He’s quick to tack on after he notices your blank stare. “He keeps track of our schedule.”

“Oh.” It’s the only thing you can think to say.

“I guess I should get going,” You say awkwardly after a moment of silence. “I didn’t even mean to fall asleep, sorry. I haven’t stayed up that late in forever.”

Van seems to think that’s funny, giving a quick laugh as he goes for something else in his bag.

“God, my contacts are so dry,” You complain, rubbing at your eyelids in hopes of clearing the foggy film clinging to your vision. It doesn’t work, and you flop back down onto the hotel bed, sighing as you try to gather the willpower to get up and get your things.

“What shirt size do you wear?” Van asks.

You tell him, and after a moment feel a soft thud of something landing on the bed. You sit up to see a rumpled lump of fabric.

“One of our shirts,” Van explains.

You grab the gift, holding it up to examine it. “Um… What is it?”

Van lets out a belly laugh at that. “It’s our next album cover.”

“Oh, alright. Thanks,” You tell him, sliding it on immediately. It feels weird to still be naked, and you’re grateful you don’t have to get into the tight top you were wearing last night.

You go through the process of retrieving all your scattered clothes from the night before, made less awkward by the fact Van is preoccupied with getting himself ready. You cram your bra and top into your purse before shimmying back into your skintight jeans and getting your shoes on.

You do a quick once-over, making sure you’ve grabbed everything as Van pulls a fresh button up over his shoulders.

“You, uh,” He starts hesitantly. When you look over, he wipes underneath one of his eyes with the tip of his finger. “You look like you’ve got a black eye.”

You realize in that moment you’d rubbed at your contacts while you were still wearing makeup. “Oh, fuck,” you groan, heading into the bathroom and trying to clean up the mess. “Thanks for letting me know. Mary probably would’ve been worried.”

“Wouldn’t want Theo catching me in the lobby,” Van jokes, and you two laugh for longer than what was probably warranted.

“I was wonderin’, before you go, if I could get your number. For those tickets the next time we’re playing in L.A..”

“Oh, definitely,” You say, extra enthusiastic to assure him of your interest.

There’s a knock at the door, and you hear Van answer it, talking to someone for a moment.

“Got interrupted for a second,” Van tells you, and when you come into the room you see he’s loading his luggage onto a bellman cart. “But perfect. Lemme grab my phone.”

He retrieves his phone off of the bed, typing into it for a moment before he offers you a screen to enter your contact information.

“And y’know, the next time I’m staying in L.A. I’d love to have dinner.”

He says it so casually, no trace of nerves even as the question hangs in silence.

“Me too,” You offer him a smile as you hand his phone back, a satisfied look spreading over his face. “I’d love that.”

“It’s settled, then,” Van punctuates the deal with a nod, walking you to the room’s door and undoing the deadbolt for you.

“Alright. Well, see ya?” You offer as a goodbye, internally cringing.

“See ya,” Van echoes, swinging open the heavy wooden door for you. “Hopefully sooner rather than later.”

With that you step out into the hallway, Van shutting the door softly behind you. You hadn’t realized how awake the outside world was while you were safely cocooned in Van’s quiet room; There are a few doors open, the smell of hotel room service wafting around. There’s a luggage cart supporting a mismatched stack of suitcases that’s haphazardly rolled so it’s blocking a doorway, and you startle when the door behind the cart swings open.

There’s a deer-caught-in-headlights moment between you and the man in the room, before he examines the obstacle.

“Jesus Christ, Bond,” The man groans, struggling to roll the cart out of his way. “It’s too early for this!”

You hear a deep chuckle come from one of the open doorways, before a man in a newscap sticks his head out into the hall. “C’mon, Blakes, food’s here! I got you your ice cold oatmeal and raw eggs in a cup, just as requested.”

The man in the hat notices you standing here, and you watch the way his eyes latch onto the t-shirt Van’s given you. But he’s gone just as soon as he appeared, and you head for the elevators despite the nagging feeling you should’ve helped the guy that was barricaded.

Once you’re on the elevator, you realize with a start that you’d just unknowingly met two of Van’s bandmates.

As quiet as you try to be, of course Mary wakes up as soon as you slip into your shared room.

“How did it go?” She stage whispers, and you notice Theo’s still asleep.

“It was…” You take a deep breath. You knew these questions were coming, and had tried to properly prepare for them, but you still couldn’t comprehend last night.

“Incredible,” You eventually settle on.

Mary’s face lights up at that. “What’d you guys do?”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to hide your smile.

“Did you fuck him?” She asks. “Please tell me you fucked him.”

As hard as you try to conceal it, your smile widens.

Mary gasps. “You did, didn’t you?”

When you nod, Mary leaps off of her and Theo’s bed, sitting cross legged in her sleep shirt on yours.

“Tell me everything!” She begs.

“Hold on,” You shush her. “Let me get out of these damn jeans. And take my contacts out.”

“I can’t believe it,” Mary muses to herself as you peel the denim back off of your skin. “I can’t believe you’ve finally had your first one night stand.”

“Me either,” You admit, screwing the lid on your contact case closed.

“How was he?”

“Amazing. So nice,” You gush, sitting down on the bed with her. “It’s like, no matter how awkward I was, he just thought it was funny! It was the weirdest thing ever!”

You recount most of last night’s details back to Mary, making sure to include the part where you almost fell over, awkwardly called out the fact he was uncircumcised, and almost left his room with racoon eyes before meeting two of his bandmates in the strangest circumstance. You talk until your throat is dry and you’re exhausted, climbing under the covers to resume the peaceful sleep you’d been in the process of getting in Van’s bed.

The next day you get a text from a phone number you don’t recognize while you’re out shopping.

Happy birthday. Van x

Thank you, you send back, but there’s no reply.

Read Chapter 2 here

#van mccann #catfish and the bottlemen #catb #van fic #van mccann fic #catb fic #van #mccann #summer's a knife

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aethersea · 4 years

Note

fake married + poorly timed confession + the leverage ot3? or any component ship, i'm not picky xD

as it happens, I was already planning on writing a fake married fic for the ot3! so this is more fic than fic description, though I couldn’t really convince myself that any of these three would full-on confess in the middle of a con which is, of course, the most poorly timed you can get. but here you go and please enjoy, mind the cut!

for this ask meme, which is still open

Parker and Eliot crash a senator’s garden party, posing as a married couple so they can be each other’s cover while each one sneaks off in turn. When Eliot needs to take a quiet moment to get rid of the guards on the roof, he excuses himself from the conversation in the parlor with a grin and a, “Better go make sure the little lady’s not having too much fun without me!” This wins a round of chuckles, and Eliot rolls his eyes as he turns away.

Parker, a few seconds later and out in the garden, just blurts out, “I’m going to look for my husband,” and clomps off.Sophie, keeping the senator busy at the buffet table, turns her eyes to the heavens in supplication.

Eliot meets Nate on the roof once the guards are dealt with, and leads him down to the senator’s bedroom so he can lie in wait and be all spooky when Sophie sends the senator up to look for his watch. Parker, meanwhile, is raiding the senator’s office safe for something Nate can blackmail him with. It’s a tightly timed con, but Eliot has a good four minutes to get himself back to the garden before the house guards notice that something’s gone wrong on the roof.

Or so he thought—they must have better failsafes in place than they’d realized, because Parker almost gets caught on her way back from cracking the senator’s office safe. Eliot, who’s half a corridor away and only just done getting his shirt and hair back in order, huffs in exasperation and rushes to intercept the guards about to reach her.

He rushes fast enough that he reaches her first, and instead of letting him barrel past her, Parker grabs him and swings him up against the nearest wall.

When the guards turn the corner, they find the two of them passionately making out. Parker pulls away from Eliot and says, with a drunken giggle, “You boys here to join the fun? Careful, my man here’s mighty possessive.” She lays her head on Eliot’s shoulder, and he takes the hint and glares the guards away.

- - - - - - -

Eliot does not talk to Hardison about this. The absence of that talk is a palpable weight in the van as they drive away from the senator’s house. Nate and Sophie can feel it too, he knows, from Nate’s wince and Sophie’s brief but sympathetic smile. It’s not like Hardison and Parker are—It’s not that they don’t—Well they are, actually, but—

Eliot takes a deep breath and lets it out through his nose. Hardison and Parker are dating, and even before that Parker had really only ever kissed Hardison on cons, but Hardison isn’t possessive, no matter the spike of horror that flashed through Eliot at Parker’s words to the guards. He has to know that Eliot would never try anything with Parker, would never hurt either of them like that. It’s fine. It’s going to be fine.

Still, he’s deeply relieved when Nate says that their next angle of attack is going to involve Hardison and Parker handling the real estate agency, just the two of them, while Eliot provides backup for Sophie almost all the way across town.

- - - - - - -

That relief means that Eliot is not even remotely braced for it when, at the last minute, the plan changes.

It turns out that the mobster’s cousin runs the real estate agency. This explains why the agency’s involved in the first place, but not how, so they still need to get Hardison in there to do his magic on their servers. “Alright,” Nate says, “Eliot, you’re switching with Parker. The mob might be hiding the drugs at the agency, so keep an eye out for guards.”

Hardison groans. “Come on, Nate, I already booked the appointment for Mr. and Mrs. Dallanby! Newlyweds, they just got back from their honeymoon in Kenya, I—I set up the facebook pictures, man—”

“We’ll just have to hope they didn’t do a background check,” Nate says, and Hardison grumbles but Eliot hears keys clicking on the line as he switches the personas around. “If they did, you’ll just pull a Bogota Chop Shop on them.”

So Eliot has to gun it across town to meet Hardison in front of the realtors’. (Parker, making the same trip in reverse, reaches Sophie a full five minutes earlier, because she is a maniac who should never be allowed behind a wheel.)

Eliot and Hardison still have not talked. Eliot tries not to think about that as he pulls into the agency parking lot and Hardison hops out of Lucille to join him. Somehow he is still trying not to think about it when Hardison takes his hand, pulls him through the front door, and introduces them as “Mr. and Mr. Dallanby, oh were you expecting a Mrs. Dallanby? Of course you were, of course, why do I even—I guess we should go somewhere else, hmm, what do you think about that? Come on honey, we’re leaving! I’m so sick of—”

Eliot finally pushes past the weird anxiety that won’t let go of his brain and manages to say something empty and reassuring, and then the receptionist is nervously insisting it was just a typo in the system and offering them coffee while they wait, and Hardison grumpily allows himself to be pulled away toward the waiting room couch.

He doesn’t drop the act there, though. He leans against Eliot and—and snuggles up against him, and somehow Eliot’s arm is around Hardison’s shoulder, and something inside him panics and tries to pull away but Hardison grabs his hand and yanks it down and hisses, “Look the goddamn part!” and there’s nothing Eliot can do but sit there and take it.

They still haven’t talked. Eliot can feel the tension in Hardison’s shoulders. He swallows hard and tries not to think about it.

- - - - - - -

No one at the restaurant opening should recognize him, but Eliot keeps out of the serving area anyway. It’s not hard—whenever the owner comes out and says someone wants to meet the chef, he just snarls that he’s too busy and ignores the woman until she goes away. It’s a lie—he’s only had three days with this kitchen team but he must grudgingly admit that they’re on top of things. Eliot keeps an eye on it all anyway, making sure the prawns don’t overcook and the beef doesn’t boil, with only half an ear for the drama happening in the serving area.

Hardison and Parker are building up to a fight. Eliot does his best to tune out Parker’s insults, Hardison’s anger, and Sophie’s careful coaching on when to escalate and when to wait. He’s not on until later, when the senator shows up; for now his biggest concern is fixing the garnish on these flounder fillets. Something’s still not quite right––maybe some shallots…

The argument in his ear crescendoes and crests. Hardison storms off in a rage. Parker fakes a few weirdly convincing sobs. For such a wooden grifter, she’s surprisingly good at pretending to cry. It’s barely a minute before the divorce attorney sitting behind Parker turns around to offer his services. Eliot can practically hear Sophie’s smug smile.

Hardison goes back to Lucille, or so Eliot thought. When he admits to himself that he’s micromanaging the kitchen more than he needs to be and retreats to the pantry, ostensibly to fetch some carrots but really to cool down, he finds Hardison leaning against the door, fiddling with his phone and munching on an apple.

Eliot almost snatches it out of his hand. “Don’t take those,” he snarls. “They’re for the chicken waldorf, not for you.”

Hardison shrugs, that slow grin of his spreading across his face. “I’m a thief. What do you expect?”

Eliot rolls his eyes and shoves past him to get the carrots. When he turns around, Hardison is framed in the doorway, blocking his way out. Before Eliot can snap at him, he says, “Hey man, are you okay?”

Eliot raises his eyebrows, unimpressed. This is a long con, but not a difficult one. And he got to punch out three of the senator’s security staff just a few days ago. He’s fine.

“You’ve been kinda off these past few days. And you disappear the moment we break for the day.” Hardison doesn’t shrug or quirk a smile to take the edge off his words, like most people would. He looks steadily at Eliot, eyes gentle, and keeps his voice soft and calm. “You know we’re here for you, right? If you’re having trouble with something, or if you just want to talk, we’re here. You’re not alone anymore.

“Our mikes are off,” he adds belatedly, gesturing with his phone. “Just us here.”

It’s a special kind of courage, being entirely sincere with someone, opening yourself to the possibility of whatever they might throw at you. Hardison screams when Parker drops him off of even two-storey buildings and panics at the first threat of violence, but in his own way he’s braver than the rest of them put together. It’s admirable. It’s terrifying. Eliot glares, feeling his fingers clench around the carrot leaves, and knows that there is nothing he can do to intimidate Hardison even a little bit.

It’s not out of fear, then, that Hardison lowers his gaze and steps aside so he’s no longer blocking the only exit. It’s a concession, freely given.

Eliot has a brief, violent internal argument.

He can still hear Parker keeping the lawyer busy and Sophie advising her on how much to flirt, but after all these years of practice it’s easy enough to tune it all out and just listen for his name. He takes a deep breath, and then another.

“You and Parker are good together,” he says. Hardison’s eyes flick up, surprised but almost managing to hide it. “And I’m—I’m so happy for you both.” He doesn’t notice the way he ducks his chin a fraction until after he’s done it, bracing for a punch he knows won’t come. “And you know that I don’t—that I would never—Look, she’s your girlfriend, I’m not ever going to…to even try to…”

This whole being brave thing isn’t working out too well. Hardison is watching him with patient incomprehension. Eliot squares his shoulders and opens his mouth to do this right, but before he can, someone in the hallway cries out, “Girlfriend?!”

Hardison jumps. Eliot lunges forward to grab him and shove him into the pantry, so Eliot is between him and whoever this is, but it’s too late, there’s a hand reaching out and shoving Hardison’s chest, pushing him away from the door—

The hand is followed by an angry waitress—Jenna? Jamie?—who is utterly and bafflingly furious. “You asshole!” she yells over Hardison’s confused spluttering, “I hope she does divorce you!”

Eliot puts out an arm to block Jemima’s rampage, and she turns her look of absolute disgust on him. “Chef, were you aware this jackass is married?”

“Eliot!” Nate says in his ear, at the literal worst possible moment. “You’ve got incoming!”

“Married!” Joanna screeches in Hardison’s face. She’s not quite straining against Eliot’s arm, but she’s conveying through body language and intonation that she’s about three seconds away from violence. “And you have a girlfriend!”

Hardison’s face is absolutely priceless. At a better moment, Eliot would stop to appreciate it, but right now there are three mobsters rounding the corner just a couple feet behind Hardison, and they recognize Eliot from the real estate agency. “Mr. Dallanby?” one of them says, sincerely confused.

Hardison jumps again and glances over his shoulder. “Mr. Dallanby?” another mobster says.

The third one gasps. “You have a girlfriend?”

“He does!” Jen crows. “He’s a goddamn cheater!”

“Oh that’s messed up,” the first mobster says. The other two mutter their agreement. They step forward until they’re looming menacingly behind Hardison. The second mobster turns to Eliot and says kindly, “Are you okay, Mr. Dallanby?”

Hardison is stiff as a board, his eyes wide in a silent plea for Eliot to do something. Eliot, absolutely nonplussed, opens his mouth and closes it several times before he manages, “I’m fine, thanks. It’s—we’re working it out.”

There’s an unintelligible commotion in his ear and Jackie is starting to realize that something’s up. Eliot wonders desperately if this is a nightmare. The first mobster, who seems to be in charge, steps forward and offers, “If you need a hand, son, or if you need a moment to process this—”

“That’s okay,” Eliot says hurriedly. He’s trying to parse the jumble in his ear, and it’s not working but he’s pretty sure the main concern is that he and Hardison have gone off comms and not gone back on again. “I’m—we’re good.” He steps forward and grabs Hardison’s hand, pulling him away from the mobsters.

This, unfortunately, puts him right next to Janice, who declares in strident tones, “Oh no you are not! You have a wife back there, asshole, you can’t just cheat on her and expect—“

At that precise moment, the senator walks around the corner behind the mobsters. “I thought we were supposed to meet in the—Ted Dalton? What are you doing here?” Because of course, they had to be conning the one senator in all of Congress who actually learns the names and faces of every guest at his garden parties, well enough to recognize Eliot three entire days later and dressed as a chef.

The mobsters frown. “Wife?”

Parker, skidding around the corner behind Eliot with an audible squeak of tennis shoes on linoleum, says quietly, “Oh shit.”

#finx writes #leverage #leverage fic #leverage ot3 #I'm planning on cleaning this up and putting it on ao3 #but if I am lazy I may just put it up as is #I do rather like how it came out

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mansionofmuses · 3 years

Text

Alright fuck it I figured it's time to put my nuts in the ring when it comes to writing up rwde reviews about shiddy writing.

I already made a post about how closure doesn't exist in rwby, so that SHOULD trim this a bit. Hopefully.

These last two of seasons of rwby have been ASS and idk even know where to start. So lemme do some character progressions instead of jumping all over the place. Let's start with my fav: Neo. And I'll be as unbiased as possible.

Starting from v6, she came back and teamed up with Cinder. Cool? Cool. Fair enough. V7 onwards she's been treated like a BITCH by Cinder and has visibly shown her disdain for that on screen. And yet she still chooses to hang with her? Why? Like... Genuinely why? Is Neo not like the stealth queen? And the driver of a thousand vehicles? Why does she even need Cinder? Could she not have just jacked an airship herself, flown to Atlas after getting the info from Cinder, and began her hunt there? Instead she's just some minion to her now? Okay fine so let's say their team up makes sense in some odd world. Why the fuck would Neo agree to go to Cinder in the Satan Whale? Why? Why the fuck is she there? After being denied multiple times to get to Ruby and even being treated like shit with visible disdain, she should have absolutely left with a middle finger to Cinder. But nope. We get to see her be visibly uncomfortable in this cult and clearly wants out. Which she does, so good shit. She snatches the lamp and heads out. Fair enough, I guess? I don't know why the fuck she trusts Cinder to go back to her after being treated like shit. After Cinder's doodoo attitude towards her, Neo should be like "wow maybe she's lying to me about roman lemme check with this genie bitch" but no. And don't say "oh well she can't talk so jinn wouldn't be able to answer her." Fuck that. 1. I should hope that the password wouldn't be so ableist against mute people. 2. Neo's resourceful as hell. Text to speech and boom. There ya go. Instead she goes back to Cinder like a lost puppy after being shown multiple times how much she hates her. Why the fuck does she need Cinder to get to Ruby? I have no fucking idea! And then everyone's favorite scene. I know I know she killed Blake's hip atta-- I mean character devel-- I mean Yang. That scene. Was doodoo. And I'll get into more intricacies about it much later. But for now, why the hell was Neo so sloppy in that assassination? Like gurl you revealed yourself so early from, apparently so far away? Pretend to be a passerby with everything disguised (I saw that lamp) impale her and boom. Done. Not sure why she went for a slash either when a thrusting weapons like that would be best for a quicker impale. It would have made any on screen death so much more confirmed instead of up in the air bullshit.

Next we have Ironwood. Oh James. How far you've fallen. I don't really understand what the hell they're doing with this character any more. Like... At all. I fully expect him to turn into the joker and join salem at this point lmfao. At first he was complex, but cool, right? Ok a stern leader who still wants to help people and see team rwby in beacon grow and be successful. Fair enough. Then came v4 and he was like "hey yang. Heard about the arm. Here ya go homie." That was pretty cool to give to a young veteran. Fair enough. But good god once v7 hit, everything just went haywire. He started making the dumbest decisions. Kind of. I understand how he's like "aite let's sack mantle to ensure atlas lives cause otherwise both parties will be dead." except idk why he didn't just make a plan to evacuate everyone to mantle first but whatever. I mean team rwby did it like... In a day? Shouldn't have been hard. Then he started losing his fucking mind. There was an entire thing about trust issues and plans (ngl I didn't care enough to pay much attention) and he ends up wanting to arrest the kids more than actually stopping Salem. Like homie. Why. You have a gang of strong ass hunters on your side, don't just throw that away. They could say "acab fuck the police anarchy reigns" and you should still keep them just to fight literal satan on your doorstep. But he fucking drops everything and resources and materials on arresting them. Like why???? And then he just shoots a child just because? And he goes around full fascist mode and his character is just gone at that point. He literally actively wants to kill the people of Mantle now instead of stopping Salem and I don't fucking get it. He could literally plot with salem about how to nuke mantle and I'd be like "shoulda seen it coming". And then when he gets outta jail he kills Jacques... Just cause? Like why? I understand Jacques let Salem's forces in and eventually led to this shit show, but like... Atlas was falling. Just leave. I don't understand. But I guess it's to show how hateful he is towards those who oppose him, so whatever. Idk I'm so done with him. This man is just so boring I just can't wait for him to get killed off so we can be done with him. I'm sure I missed a fuckload of intricacies about Ironwood but I really don't care at all about this schmuck.

Next on the shitlist is the entirety of team rwby. Just to compact it all into one. Ruby has been getting on my nerves SO much. She is so holier than thou and always right. If she had just openly talked with Ironwood about all these secrets and shit, none of this would be happening. Yeah there would be panic, but homie what's the alternative? Fight in secrecy against the police and Salem?

"hey Ruby I noticed that lamp you keep hanging around. What is that?"

"oh uhhhh definitely not a grimm magnet HAHAHAHAH"

Like no shit everyone's gonna be pissed when you lie to them and keep these secrets. Also these plans are dogshit. "We gotta get a message out." To who??? The rest of the world is gonna see some lil kid be like "hey Ironwood's gone crazy and some evil witch bitch is here tryna kill us all." Like who are they gonna believe? A random girl or the fact that ironwood is the head of the largest military state in the world? For all they know it's just some prank and it's totally unbelievable.

Team RWBY sippin team for v8 and doing nothing all volume? Nice. "But they needed to protect Nora." You mean to tell me Ruby, May, Blake, and Weiss all had to be there to protect someone. The Grimm attacked once and that was it. You guys have no medical history. At all. All you did was wrap her up and drink tea during the volume where there's a literal war happening outside. You don't just "wait for help" you ARE THE HELP you're hunters you fucks! Go out and get shit done. Have like one person stay behind just in case shit goes wrong. Preferably Weiss so she can have those meaningful conversations with her family members she never fucking had. But whatever. Ruby and Yang get into... A fight? That lasts for five seconds when they leave and then when they see each other again it just doesn't matter so I'm not sure why the fuck it was brought up at all. It had no impact whatsoever. And there's a ton more I'm sure I'm just burning out at this point. But let's just talk about the big shit. Yang's death. Everyone's saying she'll come back because plot armor but I'm in the "I genuinely think she's dead" group. She turned to Dust as she fell. I mean who knows maybe Deus Ex machina rears it's convenient head. I hate hate hate how that scene was done. That was such an unbelievable death. Weiss, Ruby, and even Blake all have ways of catching her. Easily. Weiss has like fifty ways of catching someone between summons and semblance. Ruby can teleport around the world. And Blake can just shadow clone jutsu her way there but WHATEVER. I guess everyone was too busy being nerfed and sucking ass. Again. And the reactions? Dog shit. Even when she sacrifices herself for Ruby, it's still all about the bees. It's so genuinely annoying. Ruby just whispers her sisters name and that's pretty much it aside from a >:( face here and there. Weiss doesn't even grieve she just comforts Blake who's losing her shit. And I don't know why Weiss doesn't grieve cause SHE WAS HER HOMIE TOO LIKE C'MON RT LET'S SEE SOME UGLY SOBBING DAMN so now everyone's gone feral (except Weiss who just doesn't give a shit about Yang apparently.) And despite Blake saying "yo let's not kill people aite Yang?" She's gonna say fuck that and have it out for Neo and Cinder out of revenge. Alright I guess. That's fair honestly. Challenging ones own morals based on emotions. Good enough. But god I just wished we could see more from Ruby and Weiss during that. Also I'm so sick of the "oh this character fell are they dead are they not?" Thing that rt keeps doing. Just have Neo impale her and go. Easy as that. On screen confirmation. I'm sure team RWBY has a fuckload more to crit but I'm done with this topic.

Winter. Bootlicking to the extreme that she casts aside her own sister and doesn't care if her friends die. Nice. No closure at all after she turns back to being a good guy I guess. I'm done with her. Not a whole lot to say.

The aceops are just so dumb. I'm done with them. Everytime they talk about genocide for the good of atlas I'm just rolling my eyes. Just say you're fascists and move on. And idk why the fuck harriet is gonna bomb an empty mantle. Atlas is already falling on it, you literally have no reason to do this. And this plot point is stupid as hell. Next.

Cinder. I'm not sure why they decided to randomly drop her background story into the mix. Like I don't think anyone gives a shit after all the crap she's done. I'm so sick of rt trying to make her some "uwu woe is me" woobie after doing so much shit and killing so many people. Her uwu crying moments are just stupid. Honestly watts is one of my fav characters just for telling her how crappy she is. Next

Hazel. Homie is dumb as hell. He hates Ozpin because his sister died in a mission. Fair enough. Why the fuck would you ever join Grimm Hitler when Grimm are what killed her in the first place??? Like??? Just hate him on your own time dude, jesus. And he is consistently hypocritical and it's so stupidly funny how bad this character is.

"HOW MANY MORE CHILDREN WILL YOU HURT OZPIN" as he beats the piss outta Nora, Ren, RWBY, Oscar, and probably some random five year old on the street while shouting OZPIIIIN to the skies. It also didn't take a whole lot to convince him how stupid he was thank god. His character was so cool in design and in theory but good god he got executed soooo fucking poorly. Kinda glad he's dead just so we don't have to deal with his stupidity. Next.

Emerald. This bitch. I can't. I LOVE how easily rwby just forgave her. It was so stupidly funny. "oh but yang was ready to fight her at first and snatched her weapons" yeah for five fucking minutes. Then came the part where she helped stabilize Penny and gave a half assed speech about switching sides. Meanwhile everyone's just magically forgiving of her like OH THAT EMERALD AHAHAH like she didn't help orchestrate the fall of Beacon, the death of many, including Penny, and all the terrible shit that's gone down. No resentment from RWBY except for my favorite line delivered this volume. It was Weiss's ever so beautiful "SHUT UP" LOL (I play Smite and I love how her VVGQ Quiet voice line sounds the same. So when I heard this line, I thought of Smite and immediately laughed. Kudos to you Weiss.)

Salem. The hound attacked Penny in the mansion... Why? You already established connection with Watts in jail. Did he not tell her "ay she cool with us." And in turn did she not tell him "ay she cool with us don't hit her"? I guess not? Cause the hound and penny shoulda bounced together the second they met up lmao. Other than that, salem's done nothing this volume except try to be scary and get her ass beat by hazel. She could easily just go out in the field with her grimm and blasts some people or SOMETHING GOD so far our main villain is just so boring and unimposing that literally every other villain, including her subordinates, feel more like threats than her.

Now I'll just talk about scenes.

The scene with ambrosius was COATED IN CONVENIENCE. Apparently Ozpin didn't tell the gang about the WinMore button they could just fucking walk to until now because??? Idk. I LOVE how team rwby just assumed that penny would be okay when they took her robot parts out. Realistically she should just be a floating husk of aura and nothingness. Like she never had organs. I don't understand how she's a real person now? Which, by the way, I'm pretty fucking insulted about how they handled that. Why make Penny human? She was already a real girl and accepted by her loved ones. Like shit, she was a character that a LOT of transgirls, myself included, could relate to on a personal level and we LOVED how Ruby handled it in v2. It was cute! It was sweet! She said she was a real girl back then and it made all of our collective kokoros go doki doki. Fun stuff!

But now? It feels like none of that was validated until she got an actual human body. Like damn I wish I could just get my ideal body within seconds. Shit. I've seen and heard a lot of upset from my fellow tgirls about how doodoo that scene was, because it's implying penny wasn't a real girl until after she got her human body and that's probably how most of the rwby fandom is gonna see it too. "oh wow penny's a real girl now!" And just forget Ruby's cute speech in v2. So annoying. Minor nitpick, if she's got the aura of a black man inside of her (her father), and her robot body is gone, why the fuck isn't she black? Like? Idk minor nitpick I guess. But anyways back to ambrosius scene. I love how rwby had the answers for everything within the hours worth of planning they were given by Ironwood's motive. Totes believable. And yet the "one way ticket to vacuo" thing was the simplest shit they could have avoided lmfao. Like THAT is what you trip up on? Not the portals you're trying to make or the assumption that penny lives without her robot parts? Insane. (side note: how did oscar have a flashback to that scene if he wasn't even there?)

And now everyone's favorite scene. Yangs death. Already covered it early I just wanted to add more on. This scene is insane. Like... If they actually go through with killing her (i don't see how she could have survived turning into dust) then roosterteeth is dumber than I gave them credit for. Like... They have to realize the shitstorm they're gonna receive right? First they kill off clover, an lgbt+ coded character. Next is Yang? A main character who is WIDELY loved by all. Apart of their most pandered ship in existence: bees. (Both the ship and the character make them so much money in merch btw so this was stupid from an objective standpoint.) You can't just kill a main character that is heavily lgbt+ coded in THE most popular ship in the show. Like... How dumb can they be? They're gonna lose so many fans at the very least. Sales? Down. Death threats? Way up. It would be astonishing if they weren't up to their necks in shit in backlash by that decision. Bury Your Gays trope strikes again folks. But this time with everyone's favorite! Like I just... Idk that decision was stupid and that scene hardly was given any real pomp or circumstance it deserved. She's a major title character and that scene lasted like a minute lmao. It's gonna be RWBY without the Y. RWB. As in rt is a bunch of rubes for making that decision. A cynical part of me thinks they did that just because they want an excuse to off Neo, another really loved character. (Well if everyone hates her now we can kill her off cause god knows we don't know what to do with her), but I'm not gonna make this about her. I honestly don't know how to feel about this death tbh. On one hand it's shitty and *points to essay above*. On another it lets Blake be her own character for once. We get to see who she is on our own. And we can finally shift gears from The Bees Show featuring Some Plot to RWBY without the Y. But again that scene was done horribly with doodoo writing already explained up above. They're gonna use this as some edgy excuse to have the heroes start killing again or grieve or whatever bullshit shock value.

(now that I think of it tho, Neo shoulda killed yang in v2. How the fuck did Raven know she was finna die again. Lmao)

Anyways, that's my two cents. I'm sure there's so much more I forgot. Love or hate my ramble idc these are just my thoughts. I'm sure I made doodoo arguments at some points so feel free to call me an idiot and point them out. Imma bounce. My fingers fucking hurt lmfao

#rwde #rwby spoilers

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soldrawss · 4 years

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Ares kids giving percy shit and then they just see... luke... standing in the background... staring at them... and they suddenly decide to leave percy alone, because they 'just FEEL LIKE IT, oKAY???' jhgfgdhfdhggfjghg

Despite what everyone else thinks, Luke is always angry. He just also happens to be really good at hiding it. He probably had his dad to thank for that, being able to redirect and reassure others with a flash of a smile and a wave of his hand to disarm anyone who’d think otherwise. He hardly ever lets his temper get the best of him anymore. He’s too old for that. Too tired to let the little things get under his skin and leave bruises that the world could see. He can’t afford to wear his anger out like tattooed sleeves, the same way Silena Beauregard wore compassion on hers.

And it would be too easy. Too easy to just let his anger for the world and for the gods fuel and feed the hurt bleeding into his rationality and blaming all his problems on everything other than himself. It would be way too fucking easy to go about his days in a blinding rage that left nothing but empty holes in the places that should have held love and forgiveness and all the good he tries so desperately to instill in the younger campers. It wouldn’t solve anything. It wouldn’t help the hurt and it wouldn’t end the suffering. Luke knew this. Luke knew the world didn’t need one more angry, unwanted kid adding that kind of gasoline into the fire. Kronos was wrong, even if his tempted whispers late at night tried so hard to convince him otherwise.

So he hides his anger. Buries it under daily counselor chores and making sure the Stoll brothers don’t get too rowdy during their free time and just keeps busy enough to ignore the pounding tremor in the back of his chest. It works for the most part. It’s easier to smile nowadays, he barely even has to force it anymore, and when he laughs along to campfire stories and songs, it’s something lighthearted and genuine.

But his anger is always right there, like it’s something second hand and lingering. There without him having to reach for it.

And when he notices Percy get dragged behind the armory by the scruff of his neck by some older kids, he lets that all too familiar anger consume him in seconds. He pushes away from the handful of campers he was monitoring by the amphitheater, ‘Activity’s over. You have free break until lunch’, he calls over his shoulder, and doesn’t wait for a response as he marches his way in the direction of the armory with a speed Hermes would probably be proud of if he ever cared enough to check-in.

Luke doesn’t have special skills or powers like other Demigods. He can’t build things like Beckendorf and he can’t charm speak like Silena and he certainly can’t summon lightning from the heavens like Thalia could. But he was respected and feared in equal measure all the same, and no one could deny that he worked hard to earn the title of the best swordsman in camp.

His was still a presence that demanded attention and authority. Even if he lets the seven-year-old from the Haphestus cabin ride on his shoulders after breakfast most mornings, or moves over on his already tiny bunk in the dead of night so that little unclaimed Lily Anderson can sleep with him after a bad nightmare.

He was a self-designated older brother to pretty much anyone who needed one, and Luke took a quiet sort of pride to that so many people liked and needed him.

But he was still a threat when he wanted to be.So when he saw Percy on the ground, with a nose bleed that stained the front of his shirt an awful rusty color, all Luke had to do was growl a low, ‘walk away. Now’, and the three boys took off at a sprint. He only vaguely recognized two of them from the Ares cabin and one from Aphrodite, but he didn’t care enough to do more with the information at the moment because Percy was staring up at him with green eyes electric and burning.

And Luke recognizes those kinds of eyes. They’re the same as his. There's a light like dying stars in them. Angry and terrified and burning with something terrible and so full of single-minded devotion that it has to hurt. And it leaves something aching and red hot in Luke’s stomach when he takes a step forward only for Percy to flinch away out of reflex.

“I’m fine,” Percy said like a knee jerk reaction before Luke could even ask, barking it in a mean and biting way that Luke didn’t take any offense to because he remembers what if felt like to be twelve and have your pride hurt. So Luke doesn’t question it, because Percy is scrappier and stronger than anyone probably ever gave him credit for, and offers a silent hand and the gentlest smile he can muster. Luke does his best to ignore the thumping jolt of anger that vibrates through him when Percy takes it almost immediately and so desperately, like it’s his only lifeline in the world, and wonders what kind of people were in Percy’s life before camp that made him so hungry for a positive human connection.

Percy apologizes a second later with a horrified expression, jumping out of reach when he notices he got blood on Luke’s hand.

“Don’t worry about it. Let's just get you to the Apollo cabin. Lee keeps a first aid kit and a jar of ambrosia superglued to him at all times after Cecil Markowitz’s third greek fire burn.” The comment was supposed to lighten the mood somewhat, but Percy’s face darkens as he takes a step back from Luke.

“Um, no thanks,” Percy says in almost a pained whisper, hugging his middle and trying to wipe the continuous flow of blood from running down his chin by holding his head back. “It smells too much like the infirmary in there. And I hate the way ambrosia burns down my throat. I’m good, Luke, really.”

And that should have tipped Luke off to some bigger problem, but he can’t concentrate on it because he’s already closing the distance between them faster than Percy could object, and softly pushing the back of Percy’s head down towards the ground. “Pinch here, just above your nostrils, and lean forward unless you want the blood to go down your throat.” He instructs, guiding Percy’s bloodied hand to his nose.

Luke can’t rightly blame Percy for his hesitance. The kid’s first moments of conscious grief since his new life as a half-blood began was spent in the camp infirmary, nursing the pain of losing his mom while also nursing actual physical wounds with acidic nectar and ambrosia that even Luke can attest to growing disgust for after the first few battle wounds of his own. Anyone would have some kind of underlying trauma from that, and Percy didn’t have to outwardly admit how uncomfortable he was at the idea for Luke to understand.

Being a 12-year-old without a mom was hard enough. The problems of a half-blood added on top of that was almost a cruel joke that Luke bitterly couldn’t believe was a reality for most the kids at camp.

“Annabeth used to get into a lot of fights too, I’ve gotten pretty used to fixing noses the old fashioned way. Come on, I have a spare medkit in the combat arena,” Luke says, pressing a hand to Percy’s back, not giving him a chance to escape because dammit, someone had to care for this kid. And Percy doesn’t smile, but something in those sharp green eyes turn leaf like and muted as he lets himself get led from out from behind the armory.

No one really bats an eye towards Percy as they walked, and Luke could only assume it’s because he looks like he’s about to kill anyone that tried with a stone-cold glare that could rival Medusa’s.

No one was is in the arena when they get there, and Luke instructs Percy to keep the cold washcloth Luke had snagged for him on his nose for about ten minutes, keeping upright to help stop the bleeding. They don’t say anything after that, they just sit on the arena steps and watch the campers from the Demeter cabin try to flip the canoes of some Aphrodite kids with little success, while they wait.

Luke doesn’t ask any questions on what happened or why, he feels like the answer wouldn’t matter anyway, but Percy eventually softens in the silence between them. Luke pretends he doesn’t notice Percy’s eyes get red and wet as he rubs at them angrily with the palm of his hand.

After about fifteen minutes, and a fresh camp shirt that Luke had given him to replace Percy’s stained one, Percy looked no worse for wear, at least.

“Thanks,” he says softly, like he was thanking Luke for a million things at once, and Luke was all too aware of the crack in his voice and the angry hunch of his shoulders that made him look whole years to young to be angry at the world.

“Don’t thank me just yet, I need your help with something,” Luke decides as he stands up and walks back into arena, not looking back to see if Percy is following him because he knows he is.

“Alright,” he says once they make it to the middle of the dusty pit, holding his hands out in front of his chest and adjusting his stance as Percy looks at him with a doe-eyed curiosity and confusion. “Come at me with all you got.”

Percy frowns, and sniffs once before rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. “What? Dude I already got my butt handed to me, I don’t need another nose bleed on top of a few broken bones.”

Luke can’t help but smile at that. “Come on, humor me. I have a few unchecked microaggressions I need to work out and you owe me. I promise I won’t aim for your nose.”

Percy frown deepens, but he sighs like the whole world is weighted on in and gets into a fighting stance of his own, keeping his fists close to his chest.

Now it was Luke’s turn to frown. “Aww dude, you’re breaking my heart here.”

He relaxes his stance and walks over to where Percy stood, dodging the lame attempt of a punch and catching Percy’s fist in the palm of his hand, readjusting Percy’s fingers. “Thumb goes here unless you want to break it. And you wanna keep your fists closer to bottom of your chin.”

Luke uses his own foot to shift Percy’s into a more stable stance. “Feet this far apart and bend your knees, or you’re gonna get knocked down no matter what happens. Try to punch me again.”

Frowning more out of concentration then confusion, Percy took another swing that Luke caught easily and without letting go, pulled it back towards Percy’s shoulder and used his other hand to straighten Percy’s back. “Use these muscles here and punch straight out. You keep swinging too wide and putting all your force behind it, leaving you open.”

He guided Percy’s hand with his own, twisting it slowly in the form of a punch. “You’re gonna feel the bones in your arm want to move this way. Let them and you’ll get more force out of it.”

Percy hummed something like acknowledgment, so Luke let go and retook his stance in front of Percy, mimicking his same posture from before. “Try it again.”

Luke still caught Percy’s fist in his own, but a smile broke his face in two when he, not unkindly, pushed Percy back aways. “A couple more hits like that, and my hand may actually start to hurt, Jackson.”

And the grin that crept upon the twelve-year-olds face was something bright and delighted and outshining the stars as easy as breathing, and Luke soaked in every inch as they continued for the better half of the morning sparing till the lunch horn sounded.

Percy was so much like a younger Luke that is actually scared him, but moments like this, where he knew practical methods of defense would help Percy better than any reassurance that bullies would eventually leave him alone ever could. And Luke knew that Percy wouldn’t be ok with anyone fighting his battles for him, even if it would have been so easy for Luke to channel some of that unchecked rage into beating the ever-living snot out of anyone who looked sideways at Percy again. Just like he knew that Percy wouldn’t ask for help if it wasn’t already freely giving, or that trust was a hard thing to earn when your whole life was built around people burning that bridge before you could ever extend it.

But Luke was prepared for the challenge, and with Percy chatting happily away from underneath where Luke rested his arm across his shoulders as they made their way to the dining Pavillion, Luke could feel the edges of his anger slowly quiet into something barely there. And it’s a feeling that carries him throughout the rest of the day. A feeling that he wants to bottle up and keep on a shelf whenever he wants to forget what hating the world feels like.

Because if it feels like it’s worth it just to keep kids like Percy smiling for the rest of forever, well then, Luke could handle forgiving some of his anger, and letting his heart rest on his sleeves just a little bit more.

#oh no he's 12 au #thats the name of this big brother luke au i'm creating #oh man i didn't mean to go on a big tangent but here we are folks #pjo #percy jackson #luke castellan #riordan #i have so many feelings on these two please ask me about them #thanks alex for getting me too hyped up now my home will know no rest

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