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dykefoosh · 3 years

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Unhealthy Competition Transcript: 8/4/21

Heres the transcript on a google doc if thats easier!

W: What do we want?

R: Burgers!

W: When- When, when do we want the burgers?

R: When they're cooked because if we get them now wait they are actually cooked right now but it would be raw if we immediately gave them out to the customers which is why we DO cook our food.

W: Wh-a what are you on there! They are cooked! Look! Does that not look cooked?

R: I- I mean.. Ah it looks fine it looks fine

W: I’ve never tried one of our own burgers before

R: Oh yeah we should've done that before- a while ago

W: Leme do it lemme do it lemme do it lemme do it lemme do it leme do it right, I need to get hungry first

R: mhm

W: Let me just quickly slap a Wilburger in there, leme leme just

R: there we go

W: I’m gonna get hungry

R: Alright let's get hungry

W: Wooh wooh wooh, how’ve you been Ranboo?!

R: I’ve been doing good!

W: Have you been vibing?

R: I’ve been doing alright! Yeah! I had a good rest, I’ve had a good day

W: Mhm, mhm

R: So far you know i'm excited to get to working the nine to five, it's a dream.

W: Wait, I don’t make you work nine to five- you just have to work when we run out of burgers man. You’re free to do what you want, this is your- you’re working part time for wilburger- oh it's the horse! We need that

R: OH yeah we should probably, we should probably,

W: I want that horse, aye! Do you know what quackity’s horse is called? Okay I’m hungry now, I’m hungry now, are you ready for this?

R: okay, alright

W: Bread first, burger, mmmm Ranboo… we gotta to better than that

R: Oh, okay

W: Ranboo that's the best burger I’ve ever had

R: Nice!

W: But we gotta do better than that

R: Okay, then to volume two.

W: WE are taking down an entire nation with this burger van- oh sorry competing peacefully outside of this burger van, we can't have just the best burgers I've ever had- they have to be the best burgers anyones ever eaten in their entire lives

R: In any universe!

W: In any universe in any universe at all, at all. You’ve done a really good job of this I know I’ve already said that but yeah

R: Thank you thank you, yeah

W: this is fun, I like this little toy you’ve made, I like this, i'm a big fan

R: I like it too, thank you.

W: I’m a big fan of a lot of things we have done Ranboo. Do you remember they um, boom boy?

R: yeah.. I do remember that.

W: Yeah?

R: Yeah.. I hope it didn't I hope it didn't, it wasn't, hopefully it wasn't too much, I don’t think it was too much

W: Oh I thought it was great I thought it was great man, when you smashed the window and blew up the wall- I’d be pissed

R: Mhmm

W: And I bet that was the right stick it to the man that he needed

R: But, butm you, you wanted that for competition, for business and all that, right?

W:... yeah

R: Yeahhhh

W: Yeahh, hmm, Ranboo I think you’ve taken a side here which feels like a change for you. I’m not used to this, you’re mister not choosing a side you know?

R: Yeah, yeah, because when I looked back especially when- especially after, your talks about Lmanburg and everything I realised

W: Look back on what?

R: You know, when you looked back on like Lmanburg and everything

W: Oh like life and all that

R: Yeah I decided to take a look back on my life and everything and I realised that I mean I’ve been involved in things, but, I haven't really done anything, I haven't really done anything

W: What do you mean?

R: I haven't made anything like, I haven't really, I haven't really done much to alter history, now if you were to write a history book, I wouldn't really be that much you know…

W: Whatttt

R: Involved in it

W: I don’t think, I don’t know what you’ve done, I don't..

R: Exactly, that proves my point

W: But you don’t need to have an impact on the world Ranboo to matter you know? You don’t need to go out, you don’t need to build a fucking effile tower just to be, just to mean something.

R: Yeahh

W: Ranboo, Ranboo don’t get me wrong

R: Yeah

W: You’re talking to me here I think it could be that you, you know, are going out and doing stuff. Look at this bozo

R: What he's doing here?

W: I think it could be that you decided to go out and change you know change this, I think change things for the better.

R: You know it's -

W: Don’t don’t start go out and breaking windows and blowing up walls just because you,

R: Oh no I won’t probably not too much

W: Just because you want to make something

R: This is why I like our little, little burger shop, you know it's small but at least it's something, you know I’ve always I’ve always wanted to go and make something that's gonna outlive me a little bit so I think this, I think this is a good start to something.

W: Mhm mhm

R: It’s a nice little burger shop you know?

W: And man? Honestly, I’m proud of you bro. I know, I know I don't know you very well man and I haven't known you for very long but you’ve done a really good job here and tell you what tell you what?

R: Thank you

W: Have you ever seen the phrase “fruits of your labor”?

R: Yeees, I- I think! I think so

W: Shall we see the fruits of our labour? Cause Quackity, quackitys online

R: I mean

W: Quackitys online, Quackitys here man

R: Oh!

W: We can go, we can go and see and chat with him about what we did. By the way after you blew it up I know you didn't see but I gave him back all the materials because

R: That's good

W: I gave him back all the materials for the wall and I also, I also left him a diamond or two just to say like you know no hard feelings you know?

R: Mhm

W: That it was just for, just you know, to prove a point but um yeah Quackitys here, and I wanna see. Do you want to ride a horse? Here, get on the horse.

R: You want me to uh?

W: Yeah yeah, it's Quackity’s its quackitys horse just a disclaimer

R: It’s quackitys? Oh oh okay,

W: Normally when I come to the las nevadas sign as im not allowed in las nevadas, normally when I come to the las nevadas sign Quackity is the first one to come and tell me to fuck off so lets see, lets go up to the las nevadas sign.

R: Alright

W: Yeah man its half the fun of making something and doing cool things is that moment where um, where you get to see what everyone feels about it now that we are here I promise wait here, I promise you

R: Wait.. wait here? Okay

W: Just you wait… Ready?

R: Alright, i'm ready

W: Um um “boy las nevadas sure is big from up here” just hold on

R: Okay um okay

W: Just give it a second, maybe from this level, hmmm maybe if I take another step, ooh what's that?

R: Oh yeah OH do you remember the cookie outpost thing?

W: Yeah yeah the little thing you built with tubbo

R: Yeah so basically right he got really upset so then I- I tried to apologise and everything because we- there was a little bit of dispute with it but we honestly just decided to really just give up.

W: I mean he hasn't accepted it… look its all in there

R: He hasn't accepted it?

W: Yeah, it's all in there….

R: Oh he said he liked it at least…

W: Is- did I just lie? This guy, Ranboo I swear to god I feel like I understand him, how his brain works, how he how his mind go and then he just, just proves that he doesn't give a shit.

R: Yeahh

W: Which is why I can’t wait to show off what I’ve done, but he's just nowhere to be seen. So this cookie shop thing? What was your intention of it? How would how you don’t pick sides usually but what was your intention with it? When you built this?

R: To give out cookies to people

W: And that was it? And that was your be all and end all hah?

R: Yep

W: Right, well how did you feel about Tubbo doing what he did then?

R: Doing what he did… What do you mean?

W: Well he.. He I heard the stories man I heard about how it turned into more than what it was supposed to be you know?

R: Well I mean that's- he kind of goes above and beyond on a lot of things, you can’t really blame him into make it a castle. That's, that's just you know, you can’t be TOO careful. Especially when you know, he has all the right to be nervous about something going wrong, so no wonder he put all those defenses and everything.

W: Why would he have the right to be nervous?

R: I mean just a lot of things, a lot of bad things have happened to him that haven't really come from his actions

W: Oh so youre talking about.. oHHHH LOOK WHO'S HERE!

Q: Hellloooooo

W: Quackity!! It's lovely to see you man, it's been awhile. How have you been?

Q: How- how long have you guys been here for?

W: I-I just arrived you know I just- Quackity you think I would wait for you? You know you know I’m just a

R: Yeahh

Q: Well I didn't even notice you guys were here. I um have been busy with uh much more important things… so, but hey I mean it's great to see you guys it's really great to see you guys, Wilbur and Ranboo together this is uh

W: It’s good to see you man

Q: What's this?

W: Oh uh Ranboo was just looking after your horse that I um

R: Mhm!

W: That I took a little bit of a joyride, it's a good horse look at it, look how high it jumps man! You got a good horse man

Q: Yeahhh who told you that's my horse?

W: Well it was tied up in your nation

Q: haha no no that's not my horse you just got someones random horse, i think you should probably put it back, I have no idea whose it is That- this is really awkward Wilbur, you should, you should probably put it back

W: Let's go! Let's go dude. I wanted- I wanted to come and ask you a question.

Q: Yeah, yeah what's up?

W: So I don’t know if you saw this? Uh you can’t actually see it, but behind this we built a burger van quackity!

Q: Really???

W: Competition, competition

Q: You built a burger van? Is that what you’ve been up to wilbur?

W: Yeah yeah!

Q: You know all this time you’ve been settled next to me and this- this is uh your big ceration? A burger van?

W: Hey man

Q: Hahah,

W: Rome wasn't built in a day. Small steps

Q: That's true, that's true. Leme take a look. Can you order anything yet?

W: No no, wait lemme- actually let me cook you up something real quick

R: Oh yeah oh yeah, you'll love this

Q: I don’t know if i trust anything coming from you Wilbur, but I’ll I’ll, give it a shot i'll give it a shot

W: Doo doot doo quackity you are so nice to me doot doo doot you never bring up my past doot doo doot Here you go, one volume one wilburger. Take a bite of that!

Q: Volume one?

W: Take a bite! It’s like an NFT Quackity

Q: An NFT?

W: Yeah no one, no ones gonna be copying that!

Q: Why would I bite it if its an NFT, then if it goes away it wouldn’t be worth anything,

W: Exactly Quackity, you can keep hold of it OR you get a bit peckish, eat the bread anyway! The bread is not bad

Q: I’m not hungry, I’m not that hungry right now but hey, I’ll keep it with me

W: At least keep it to appreciate the value, it's my NFT, but Quackity anyway I did want to ask, you have a little restaurant in your town I saw, from a distance obviously.

Q: Do you guys want to take a look? I didn’t want to mention it as I felt like it would have been awkward given that you have your own restaurant- I have my own restaurant, that's the only thing that would make it a little awkward but, you know you brought me to your restaurant and I want to bring you to mine. Can, can I do that?

W: Yeah, yeah man I just want, I just wanted to say sorry if you notice if you notice a bit of superficial damage, I left you a little gift as well, afterwards I sure that's okay. It was Ranboo and I that did that to your restaurant actually.

Q: Yeah yeah I saw it in the signs you, you guys

W: Yeah Ranboo and I did it

Q: Yeah the signs no no

W: I just thought- it it was a little bit of a you could say a misclick

Q: It doesn't seem to be like a misclick. You said MY restaurant was wank

W: I did I did I forgot about the signs, I was talking more about the window- oh

Q: But its fine its fine actually and I actually want to take this moment to thank you guys actually because uh that little destruction you did made me realise that the non tinted glass it just wasn't a good fit for the restaurant so I went with the kind of you know neon look and oh oh yeah the explosion! Right, I uh thank you guys again I was just finishing up this fish tank.

(The fish tank has salmon in it)

This nice little fish tank in the restaurant I think it gives a nice little look, a nice touch you know a nice family touch so thank you guys- this made me realise this needed a little bit of work haha so I appreciate it. I appreciate it a lot um actually you know what?

W: what?

Q: You know what Wilbur? Your little game here whatever you did, it made me realise another thing, that my country needs a source of passive income, so I decided to assign a workforce to this restaurant, I decided to hire an employee…

W: YOU'RE FUCKING ME?? YOU'RE PISSING ME

T: Hello!!

Q: Haha! Hey Tubbo!

T: Hey

Q: Tubbo look who came to visit look who came to visit

W: Tubbo!! Man it's good to see you!

T: Hey man this is my new job!

W: Tubbo aww it's nice to see you here man, I thought you were with your, your little snowy town

T: Oh I decided that you know I needed you know a job somewhere to work

W: Tubbo… what the fuck?

Q: Ha ha yep!

W: Fuck tubbo! Why are you, why? Why? Why did you get employed at the restaurant?

T: Why well eh I mean you know? Job?

Q: Tubbo is an excellent employee

T: I- I didn’t know you guys did burgers! I didn't know…

W: I mean, I mean it's - I just dude I offered for you to come and work at my burger van, it was uh hh hh hhhh hugh I told you yesterday- I told you yesterday in the Lmanburg crater and said you should come and hang out and make burgers at my burger van and now your at another burger restaurant after turning down my burger restaurant. Quackity… What did you tell him? Quackity what did you tell him? What did you say man?

Q: Listen listen, I’m gonna tell you this right now, tubbo is one of the best employees I’ve ever had. Me and tubbo had a little talk and we realised he has really great aspirations in life, and he really wants to do a lot

W: mhm

Q: and I told tubbo I would offer him maybe one of the best jobs anyone can have

W: best job

Q: one of the only jobs in las nevadas- tubbo is actually not only an employee but he is managing this place

W: mhm mhmm

T: This is my establishment

Q: Yeah, yeah and tubbo, tubbo now owns it

(note ranboo now has a grass block and is holding it along with placing and picking it up and it pacing during all of this)

Q: Tubbo tubbo now manages this place and he cooks here and makes a great deal of economic prosperity as well for las nevadas uh you should try his food, you NEED to try his food he makes these burgers kind of NFTS wait what a coincidence, it's NTFS as well and he makes burgers, and I like to call it the tubburger

T: The tubburger joint.

Q: The funny thing is we called it the tubburger volume one as well! It's really weird haha our plates are the exact same

W: Shh shh shh, quackity… tubbo, are you? Are you aware we are in competition now? Like this, this, tubbo we have always been on the same side man, we have always been together… your head to head with me now

T: Well I don’t look at it like that, it's not like complicated competition.. .Competition is good for the consumers, it helps everyone!

Q: W- Wilbur you’re taking this a little too far man, I feel like

W: Wai-twait no no I am perfectly

Q: I think you’re taking it too far man!

W: I am perfectly happy with mr tubbo

Q: At the end of the day we are all friends

W: Where did you get the NFT idea from??! Where did ya get that idea from?

T: Fazeclan?

Q: Fazeclan

T: Fazeclan

Q: Fazeclan, wilbur listen I told you this once and I am gonna tell it to you again, thank you. Thank you for opening my eyes that whole renovation came to do because I’m assuming it was a kind of renovation it really made me realise it has more potential then I thought

W: MHmm

Q: And at the end of the day that's what we all need. That's what we need, we thrive, we thrive through competition…. Healthy competition you're gonna make your burgers better and i'm gonna make my whole restaurant better and with the help of seriously one of the greatest people I’ve met in a business like this

T: Aww thank you man

Q: of course, of course tubbo

W: So,

Q: Wilbur, don’t take it the wrong way

W: I- I’m not does it look like im-

Q: to be mad about it, it's good for us it's gonna be happy for everyone

W: I’m happy, I’m really happy for tubbo, I’m happy tubbo’s got a job

Q: Really?

W: Yeah, I’m happy for him. Tubbo you were telling me yesterday how you were, how you felt like you lacked direction, you lacked purpose

T: Yeah I finally have a goal

W: Bro!

Q: That's true

W: How could I be angry about that man?

R: Yeah… that's good

W: Just you know I was just wondering why you chose that over the burger van but I get it Quackity, Quackity is a hard man to refuse.

Q: Mhmm

W: And

Q: And tubbo, tubbo is just constantly looking for whats next whats gonna happen now, and me and tubbo we think alike, very much alike actually, and I don’t know if you remember this but me and tubbo, you remember lmanburg?

T: Yeah

Q: Me and Tubbo, Tubbo was president and I was vice president, this is like lmanburg all over again isn't it?

T: Well- I mean-

Q: This is all a working- work in progress

W: It’s giving me lmanburg vibes

Q: Mhm- sorry?

W: I said yes I agree its giving me Lmanburg vibes

Q: Yeahh. Well listen uh all i'm gonna say is wilbur we are doing our own thing, you guys are doing your own thing and be healthy competition and you know….

T: Well the best burgers win!

Q: Haha- there you go there you go tubbo I agree with that yes!

W: we- yeah Ranboo you agree with that may the best burgers- say it say it

R: yeah yeah, may the best burgers win… yep

W: Wilburger vs tuburger… match match partners against crime

T: Together!

R: No-t not crime we hate crime

Q: Tubbo tubbo you gotta try their burgers sometime

W: Well, well we gotta go we gotta go

T: oh?

R: Yeahh yeah

W: It was lovely, it was lovely hanging out with you guys I - I am just thrilled with the renovations. What should we do next time we hang out?

Q: Yeah yeah

W: Do you wanna we- like

Q: I think I think we should yeah let's set some time apart and talk you and me

W: Yeah let's have a little run through a little run through

Q: Yeah yeah absolutely, and ranboo wilbur, you guys are welcome in the restaurant, las nevadas anytime

W: Wait-

Q: Anytime you guys like

W: Wait, I'm allowed in Las nevadas?

Q: Wilbur, you’re not, you’re taking this the wrong way

W: You told me I couldn't come in

Q: What kind of person would I be to tell you to leave my country. What kind of person would I be to not allow you in my premises? I wouldmt be a good person would I? Wilbur, you are my friend … I would never do that to you. I’m very welcoming, Ranboo come ahead, come inside as well ah this is all this is all healthy competition alright?

W: You’re a good man, you’re a good man Quackity, I’ll I’ll give you that. We got some burgers to flip so we will

Q: We do too we do too

T: Bye guys!

W: thanks for coming, thanks for coming down

Q: Cya guys

W: Cya guys

Q: Bye!

W:Ranboo.. Ranboo lets go

R: Yeah…. Let's go….

W: ooooOOOHHHHH boy ha- ha… ha ahhh ohhh this is good, this is what I want dude dude Ranboo did you see he was trying to act like I didn’t get to him?

R: Mhmm mhmm

W: You see the WHOLE time ohh it's not my horse

R: Geeh I mean yeah I mean he did I’m pretty sure

W: Dude he made an NFT burgers

R: He made an NFT burger- that is true

W: He cares so much he cares so much

R: That was your idea yeah

W: He cares aww man- How did you feel about this Ranboo? I mean dude!

R: I mean it's just burgers and everything so I think it's okay.

W: Eh it's “just burgers”

R: Its okay you know

W: I feel alive Ranboo, I feel alive! Someone is looking at me and talking to me!

R: Yeah yeah!

W: I’m alive I’m alive this is great!

R: Yeah, yeah I mean yeah, I again don’t I have to get used to competition and everything and be out there more with it all

W: I feel you Ranboo I feel you its scary its scary man, especially when we have a long way to go, bridges to cross and one day grab it by the horns and ride it

R: Yeah yeah,

W: And not it's just, it's just you and me against the world. The world being tubbo and quackity.

R: mhm mhmm

W: I mean why would you be against being against tubbo and quackity anywhere? I mean how well do you know Quackity?

R: I- I mean I don’t really know Quackity- Quackity all too well

W: Yeah yeah and I mean what do you and tubbo have you know going on that would block this?

R: I mean…

W: Sounds great to me

R: I mean… yeah yeah I - we kind of had like that cookie outpost we did together and everything it's fine I don’t have to get to it too much I dont um really wanna

W: You’re both businessmen

R: I don’t really ah want to get into it all too much

W: And that's fine. Ranboo I wanted to ask you man

R: Mhm?

W: You’ve had this cookie outpost right?

R: Yeahh

W: Did you like to get up to anything at the cookie outpost? Is there anything…?

R: Ahh, not at the cookie outpost but I do have something else actually… follow me I do- I do have something else…

W: Is it a secret?

R: It's a secret , yes.

W: Should we sneak?

R: Yeah um I think we can just get far enough away I think we'll be fine

W: Where are we going?

R: Into the strip club

W: heh-sh haha haha

R: Comeon, come on let's go

W: ahhaa sorry say that again

R: Into the strip club- we are going in!

W: Lets go

R: I have- I have my little hole in the strip club

W: You got a strip hole?

R: Yes!

W: I’ve never been in here before

R: Well I mean for logs, I mean look at those spruce logs over there, those are stripped. Alright ah perfect it's still, it's still here

W: This doesn't look very hidden

R: Oh its hidden trust me

W: it's very cozy

R: Oh it's very cozy and well if you need to use this for something we can definitely expand a little bit, but probably not too much though because we don’t want to infringe on everything

W: I like this, I mean we can do a little bit now! How about what we do? I like this. I like the wherewithal, maybe we can build a tunnel from here to the burger van. It can be our way in sneaking in from the burger van. aH okay okay you got your finger in a few espionage spies, I appreciate that and no one knows about this?

R: Yeah no one knows about it, yeah I think- to the best of my memory no one knows about it.. There's like a 85% chance that's right

W: That's cool that's cool because at the end of the day we’re- going right now we are the good guys Ranboo, we are the good guys, we-

R: You sure?

W: We-.... yeah! I mean we haven't done anything wrong you know?

R: Yeah

W: we haven't done anything wrong and quackity, quackity done a few things wrong…

R: Yeah yeah

W: hmm hmm is tubbo working full time? What's tubbos deal you know with the burger place?

R: I don’t know I have no idea actually

W: We don’t know we just don't know

R: I Don't know anything about that.

W: It's like how good of an employer is quackity? So I wanted to make sure before I go knowing you have already done a little act of espionage with the strip hole and other things I just

R: Mmmhmm

W: I just wanna, I just wanna say in any case of an emergency right?

R: mhm

W: When we are head to head, you know when- not head to head with each other uh when we are head to head with tubbo and big q and stuff

R: mhm

W: and maybe shits ya know hitting the fan and stuff- I need to know, that we have a saviour card to save the innocent people in this city like tubbo

R: mhm

W: Like fundy and these innocent people

R: So yeah.. So like a plan B just in case anything goes wrong we can save them?

W: Yeah, plan B

R:Okay I'm down for that. What is this- (Wilbur gives Ranboo thirteen TNT)

W: I want you to make yourself useful and..

R: oh

W:Set that up somewhere in las nevadas. I have more, I have more I have another stack if you need it but I think that should be enough to do a marketable amount of damage if you- okay so the problem essentially is that TNT as you know TNT doesnt detonate in water and as you know las nevadas is quite a large majority of water bound. However, quackity really seems to care about the inside of the casino which I’ve peaked in and there's no water in and the outsides of this restaurant section of this spire right? So what you could do is easily make a section in the casino that has a chain reaction under a button somewhere and each one of those detoniates the next consecutive one. It would take a little bit of work, I know quite a bit about TNT, I could help you.

R: Mhmm

W: So

R: o-okay

W: Look dude I’m just letting you know that's what I want you to do. PArt of working-

R: But in most cases and everything it would never see the light of day right?

W: In most cases yeah 100% most of the time maybe it won't happen, BUT if we need to protect the innocent thats what its fore

R: Yeah yeah

W: Yeah you want to protect like fundy, slimecicle, tubbo?

R: Yeah! Yeah

W: So that's, so that's what it's for and Ranboo! I shall bid you adieu, it was a pleasure, thank you for coming

R: Yeah of course!

W: and thank you for being a good co worker, you know?

R: Yeah

W: You’ve done a good job and I can’t-

R: Thank you

W: I trust you will do good work with that TNT I gave you but remember, make it safe!

R: Yeah

W: We don’t want it going off by accident we don't want it

R: Yeah I’ll maybe it very safe

W: Promise?

R: Promise, yeah

W: And you’re gonna tell me where you put the button and you’re gonna tell me where it's set up and-

R: Yep!

W: Okay. Alright, thanks Ranboo

R: Yeah, thanks, I’ll see ya, buh bye

W: I’ll see you around Ranboo. What a nice guy!

#dsmp transcript #transcript #las nevadas #wilbur soot #ranboo #quackity #tntduo #tubbo #c!wilbur #c!ranboo #c!quackity #c!tubbo #beeduo #lmanburg

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gallickingun · 4 years

Text

please, i beg of you || b.k.

SUMMARY: Bakugou has always been arrogant, but it is in these moments when you find him to be nothing more than a prodigy child begging to be a worthy man. Maybe your words can help soothe the burn on his tired soul.

PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader RATINGS: M/E+ WARNINGS: smut (18+), praise kink, emotions, language, etc. WORD COUNT: 5.3k+

LINKS: ao3 | masterlist | mobile | writing tag

TAG LIST: at the end of this post!

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this was born because of a conversation i had with @lady-bakuhoe about bakugou’s praise kink so i hope you enjoy it! i also have to say a HUGE thanks to @k-atsukidayo and @freckledoriya for reading over this for me and making me feel 10,000x better about it’s quality. also, this is my first time trying out a banner so lemme know if you guys prefer it over gifs!

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Bakugou’s mind fills with a haze the more syllables that tumble from your lips.

Your lips part and it’s like heaven spills out from your honeyed tongue. He could get lost in the way your words wrap around his heart like a vice, the organ beating so intensely beneath his rib cage that he fears he might bruise his very bones. His eyes find your mouth, your teeth and tongue and gums, and he memorizes the way you spell out each syllable.

Praise does not stop with your words, though, that would be far too insufficient.

Your hands find his body in every different way, mapping out the muscle and sinew as if it were to be your lifeline one day. The protruding veins against his forearms and waistline and neck bulge underneath your touch, as if they are only there for you to see.

The first time you did not recognize it for what it was – instead believing that it was his arrogance incarnate in the way he moved his body, the way his tongue practically lolled from his mouth as you continued to praise him for his hard work.

When you met him for the first time, there were clues of it spread throughout your conversation like clues you would eventually pick up on when the time was right.

“Wow,” you run your fingertips over the muscles of his shoulders, watching as they ripple with each movement he makes.

You’re here to repair a gash in his skin – simple, only requiring a few stitches, but enough to get him sent to the agency’s hospital ward. He’s sitting on a tabletop right now, insistent on the lack of anesthesia. You tilt your head, readying the needle to start into his marred skin, “Are you-“

“Yes, I’m sure,” he spits out the words, turning to look at you from his uninjured side. Bakugou grits his teeth and wraps his hands around the edge of the surface, knuckles turning white from the force alone. “Now just fuckin’ get on with it.”

You swallow the lump of pure desire sitting on your tongue like sandpaper. It grates your throat as it goes down but does not blur your vision to the point where you can’t see the few freckles dotting his skin, tanned flesh maneuvered just so it might steal your attention. You have to blink a few times so your gaze will settle on the flayed wound on his shoulder, reminding your body why he’s here.

“You must be pretty good,” you manage, “I haven’t seen you in this wing before.”

Bakugou’s chest puffs up, his shoulders straightening. The shift forces you to adjust your positioning, but you don’t mind the way his back becomes more rigid at the compliment. You push your fingertips into the skin to keep him still as he speaks.

“Damn right.”

A light laugh falls from your lips, “Well, I guess that makes me your first.”

The phrase is more suggestive in it’s receipt than you mean by your delivery. Your eyes go wide and you pray that he does not hear you, that he will not respond or react.

Your whole world lights on fire when he murmurs, “Oh, does it?”

Now, after much time has passed, you find yourself searching for his skin every time you are close enough.

You pass him by in the kitchen and are sure to touch his hips to let him know that you’re walking behind him. You swear that it’s just so he won’t accidentally burn you with a pan or so you won’t frighten him and cause him an injury. Deep down you know it’s so you can feel his obliques underneath his tank top, thumbs buzzing off the heat of his skin, even if it’s only for a fleeting second.

And when you see him stood over the counter, going through mail or paperwork, you always make sure to slap his ass.

“Shitty woman,” he growls, looking up at you from a particularly riveting coupon page, “stay the fuck away from my ass.”

He never means it, though. In fact, after observing him for enough time, you know that he enjoys it. You know that in every kind, complimenting word, he finds some kind of ecstasy with the knowledge that you appreciate his body.

And you know this, of course you do.

When he’s fresh out of the shower is when it’s easiest to prey on his body, to litter praise like confetti down over the top of him. He’s leaned towards the mirror, the only thing barring him from the steam of the bathroom is a pair of briefs covering his lower half.

You press a kiss to his shoulder blade, hands trailing over the corded muscle of his abdomen and lower back. Your thumb dips under the band of his underwear, dangerously close to the curve of his ass. Bakugou turns to face you, face still half-covered in bubbled-up shaving cream, one hand clasped around a razor, “Can I help you?”

“You know how much I love your body, fucks sake Katsu’,” you press your mouth to his bicep, nudging your nose over the pinkened skin, still hot from his shower. “Can’t expect me to keep my hands off you when you’re all out in the open like this.”

He growls but there is no malice behind it, “Fuckin’ perv.”

You smirk, tilting your head, “And?”

Bakugou’s face burns crimson so he turns away from you, muttering under his breath as he continues shaving the remainder of his face. You take the moment of his unintentional fragility to dance your fingertips over the bumps of muscle, digging your hands in and pressing your hips to his ass. You kiss between his shoulder blades, running your nose up the column of his spine. Bakugou grunts as his body careens forward, but he catches himself by shifting his feet and leaning his waist against the countertop.

“God, you’re so fuckin’,” you nip at the tip of his shoulder as you slip out from under your robe, “fit.”

The bristling of his muscular frame only hardens further at the sound of your words, the ghost of your touch. Bakugou acts as if he’s not paying you any mind, continuously dragging the razor against the shadows on his face. And yet, as the sinew of his thighs strain against the fabric of his briefs, you know he’s feeding off of your words, using them to fuel his self-confidence.

When he bends over to run clean water over his face, you take advantage of the position to dip your hand beneath the waistband and curl his cock in your fist, swirling your thumb over the head. Your breasts push against the center of his back, mouth leaving sloppy, wet kisses over his warm skin. Bakugou’s throat bobs as a whimper bubbles up in his throat, parting his lips, “Shit.”

He rests his head against the mirror, eyes screwed shut, “Fuck, babe-”

“Katsuki, I love your shoulders,” you use your free hand to ghost over the plane of flesh and bone, hovering when you find freckles and scars. You grind your hips up against his ass again, groaning when you feel the way his muscles contract. You whine, pressing kisses all over the expanse of skin, “They look so good when you move.”

“Shitty woman,” he grumbles, finally able to turn so he’s facing you, hands yanking your face unceremoniously so he can kiss you full on the mouth.

You pump his cock between your fingers, loving the way his whining vibrates your throat. His tongue slips through your mouth and starts running along your gums. You moan, finding his thigh and brushing your hips against it, using the thick muscle at the center to stimulate your hooded clit. The hand that isn’t preoccupied with his dick starts to roam over every inch of his torso – finding curves of bicep and pectoral and abdomen. You show him appreciation and reverence by drawing your fingerprints against his skin, pawing at him like an insatiable animal.

“Bakugou,” you murmur as his mouth trails from your lips to your jaw, nose nudging against your cheek, “p-please-”

He chuckles, the sound turning into a wave of warm air washing over your neck, sending a patch of goosebumps over your forearms. You fuss at him when his tongue darts to your jugular, a wet warmth pooling between your thighs at the feeling of his mouth. Your thighs clench together, knees knocking at the motion.

Bakugou nips at your earlobe, “Whaddaya want, Princess? You already got me by the cock.”

If you weren’t so enamored by the heat of his tongue on your neck, you might be able to come up with a better retort, something much more intelligent than, “You, please, just you.”

He pulls on your wrist, yanking you away from his cock so he can pull his briefs down to his ankles, stepping out of them swiftly. Bakugou grabs you by the hips, swiveling both of you so now you’re bent at the waist, hands on the countertop as he presses into you from behind. His cock is clamped between your thighs, the tip of him parting your slick folds just enough to make you cry out.

“You got me, baby,” he murmurs into the skin of your shoulder, open-mouthed, wet kisses making a trail up to the curve of your jaw. He nudges his nose over the shell of your ear, “Look at us,” referring to the both of you reflected in the mirror, bodies joined together at the hip. When you look at him through the polished glass, you see your eyes half-lidded and his cheeks tinged red, a wave of slick coats his cock, your cunt fluttering around nothing.

You drop your head but Bakugou is quick to wrap a hand around your hair, pulling your attention back to the reflection, “Uh uh, Princess. You’re gonna watch me destroy that pretty little pussy of yours.”

The sound that parts your lips is nothing short of sinful, and what comes next isn’t any closer to holy.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

And then there are other times when you’re casually affectionate towards him, running your hands over his torso while being tucked into his side on the couch, a film playing in the background. Bakugou makes some offhanded comment about you distracting him, but he lifts his arm and welcomes you closer nonetheless. His hands raises the hem of your shirt before slipping beneath the fabric, thumb tracing over your ribs.

Of course he’s distracted by the way your hands find every patch of skin on his upper body, even dipping beneath his waistline to marvel at his thighs. You kiss his jaw, “Katsuki,” another kiss planted on his cheek.

Bakugou grunts, “Hm?”

A smile tugs up your lips, “Have I ever told you how handsome you are?”

His face burns crimson but he doesn’t tear his eyes away from the television, unwilling to relent and allow you the satisfaction of making him distracted. Despite his reluctance, he still squeezes your side in recognition, tucking you closer to him.

You always try to tell him how much you love his body; he’s worked hard for it, years in the making, blood and sweat and tears forged the bonding of muscles to sinew to bones and you’ll always be there to remind him that it was worth it in the end.

“I just think you’re amazing,” you whisper into the skin of his neck, fingerprints memorizing the pattern of muscle on his lower abdomen.

Bakugou flexes when he hears you talk about his body; not on purpose, but more of as a reaction, as if his body is in tune with your praise and wants you to continue. When you casually grab his arm when you’re walking home, he tenses his bicep so your palm will have more difficulty wrapping around the circumference of his arm. If you’re wrapped around his torso for a piggy-back ride, his shoulder muscles are rippling beneath your body, hardening to the point you wonder if he could rival Kirishima.

You press a kiss to the base of his throat, “I’m really lucky to know you.”

And that’s when Bakugou just can’t take it anymore, when your praise becomes too much and he has to do something about it but he can’t return it. He’s never been good with words, always much better by proving to you that your sweet syllables do reach his ears and have an impact.

So he turns his face as you try to kiss his cheek, mouth colliding with yours. He uses a large palm to press against your cheek, holding you in place like an anchor so he can kiss the breath right out of you.

Bakugou does nothing in half-measures, and that includes kissing you. He’s always sure to pull a sweet sound from your throat, a gentle caress of his hand on your thigh to make your whole body shudder. You can’t help yourself when you straddle him, pulling your weight forward so you can settle into the natural dip his body creates at the waist.

“’Suki,” you murmur into his mouth, “I love you.”

He doesn’t respond at first, but you don’t expect him to. You know superfluous words are not his strong suit, so you feel his love through every tender touch, every hitched breath and starry eyed gaze. You cup his face in your hands, thumbing over the cut of his jaw, sharp edges leading to his neck.

The nipping of your lower lip makes you gasp and whine, hands drifting further down his body to make sure and appreciate his pectorals, thumbs grazing over his nipples to draw out a sound from his own set of lungs.

Bakugou grunts, sitting up so his back is against the arm of the couch, “I love you more,” he manages through strangled breathing.

The simple exchange of too to more makes your heart soar.

His hands are on your thighs when you lean forward to whisper, “I love you most,” into the shell of his ear, hot breath making his flesh pebble with goosebumps. Bakugou groans at the mix of your challenge and the stimulation of your hands and mouth. He lets his hands travel up under your shirt to palm at the base of your spine and further up your shoulders. His touch is warm, painfully obvious due to his quirk, and when his fingertips dig into your skin it’s massage-like in nature and you find yourself feeling delirious every time he graces your body with his caress.

Bakugou is growling at you, turning his hips just enough to careen you off balance, catching you easily with the way he’s already wrapped up in you. His eyes are narrowed and it’s like you’re going off to war with his stare.

“Oi, Shitty Woman,” he uses his quirk just enough to get your attention, tickling you at the center of your spine, “I love you more than most. End of discussion.”

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

And then, even when he has you under his thumb, you still can’t stop singing his praises.

“Tell me, Princess,” he’s knuckle deep in your cunt, dragging another wave of pleasure out of you in the form of a writhing moan parting your mouth and echoing off the walls. Bakugou knows that you’re incapacitated, but that does not deter him from begging for your affirmation.

You nod, blubbering out syllables that you pray are somewhat coherent, “Y-Yes, please, ju-just like that!”

Bakugou has memorized the tones of your voice, the way that you keen whenever he’s hitting that specific spot in your pussy, middle finger curling and stimulating while his thumb works at your clit. His mouth is sloppy on your chest, lips finding your nipple and sucking.

“F-Fuck, Katsuki,” you whine, “you feel so good.”

He parts from your nipple with a skinny string of saliva from his lip to your chest, brazen eyes glowering up at you in the best way. He cocks his head and the string breaks, cool air washing over your wet chest and your skin pebbles.

“Shit your fuckin’ arms.” You pant and attempt to open your eyes to look up at him from where he’s loitering over your, his body weighty like a comforting shadow. He kisses your mouth and you traipse your hands up and over his forearms towards his biceps, squeezing as he flexes.

The praise only encourages him further, his fingers somehow fitting further into your pussy, stretching you wide as he prepares you for his cock. Bakugou opens his mouth to swallow your moans and tongue, licking over your gums and teeth as you continue to whine kind words into the void.

“Please, Katsuki,” you peel your eyelids back so you can look him in the eyes, finding comfort in the carmine irises. “I-I need you.”

He chuckles, curling his digits harshly within you so your walls flutter around his knuckles, “You’ve got me, baby, what else do you need?”

You shake your head and kick your feet, scraping your ankles against his thighs, “Y-You know!”

“C’mon, pretty girl, tell me what you want,” he nudges his nose against your collarbone, breathing slow so you writhe beneath him at the feel of his breath on your skin. Bakugou’s hand is still buried in your pussy, working you up to another orgasm, the wash of your slick coating his palm and sticking to your thighs. He kisses the curve of your neck and your hands find the dips of his shoulders, digging your fingernails harshly into the tanned skin.

“Want your cock,” you pant, “please, want you to fill me up with your perfect, thick cock, please, please, please!”

Bakugou’s laughter drifts over your throat like a shadow, hot breath and tantalizing tone curling around your neck and squeezing. You gasp, hips canting forward, “Please, I just want your cock in me, please! I-I can’t-”

The sudden loss of heat at your core makes your throat shudder in a whimper, “Katsu-oh.”

He interrupts your plaintive mewling with the tip of his cock butterflying the lips of your cunt wide open, teasing your slit with his dick. Your hands slap his arms, curling desperate fingers round his biceps. You buck your hips forward but the way his thumb is rested around the head of his cock makes it difficult for you to try and pull him further into you.

“Love it when you talk to me, Princess,” Bakugou kisses the inner part of your knee, using his free hand to cup your thigh, pushing your leg back into your chest. “You’re such a good girl for me, yeah?”

You nod fervently, eyes blown to hell as you gaze up at him, “Y-Yes, Katsuki. Please.”

The heat of your touch only serves to further pinken his body, blush taking over every inch of him as he tries to resist fucking you senseless; taking your body and ravaging it with his mouth and hands and cock.

Bakugou takes your neck in his hands, slowly and teasingly dragging the length of his digits over the thin, sensitive skin of your throat. You struggle to keep your eyes open as the pressure of his palm increases, stars dancing behind your half-hooded lids, irises swallowed by your intense pupils.

Your mouth is muted by his own set of lips taking you captive, cock slipping forward slowly so the stretch of your cunt is drawn out, only growing in fervor with every centimetre of him that dives deeper into you. You try to release some of your pent up tension in the form of a cry or a moan, but Katsuki’s tongue dominates your mouth, running along the curve of your teeth and pressing your tongue down against the base of your throat. You feel tears form in the corner of your lids from the pure ecstasy of his thick cock sliding into your dripping pussy.

“Good girl,” he mumbles, “take my cock so good.”

He’s close to the base of his cock now, your legs wrapping around his waist in a flurry of limbs, attempting to pull him as far as he can go. Your cunt flutters, clamping down on his length as it throbs within you. The feel of him nipping your lip is there, but it’s dull, all of your senses focused on the thickness of his cock and how it supersedes every other capacity you have.

You manage to blurt out something akin to praise, syllables in high pitches turning your mouth into a sanctuary. You hold him in such reverence, every bit of him, and that only pushes Bakugou to fuck into you harder, better. He wants to draw out those elicit sounds from you, the ones that make his stomach stir and his chest tighten.

“So pretty,” Bakugou grunts as he starts to retract from you.

You believe that he means to leave you so you start to claw at his chest and shoulders in a feeble attempt to keep him close to you, a tear slipping down from each eye, “P-Please Katsuki, please-I want your cock so bad, please. You make me feel so good, please.”

He’s kissing over your face, “Hush, Shitty Woman. I’m gonna give you my cock, just want to feel you beg for me a little.”

You’re clamping around him, trying to trap his cock deep in your pussy, holding him there like a captive until you’ve worked yourself up using the thickness of him as friction. Bakugou kisses between your furrowed brows in an attempt to force you into a calm stupor, his gentleness in stark contrast to the inevitable frenzy you will feel between your thighs. And with the way he’s speaking to you, words delicious and teasing of what’s to come, your cunt desperately cries for him, which you suppose is close to the truth. Waves of silvery slick are already dripping from your pussy, evidence of his hard work so easily on display, shining in the light of your bedroom.

Still, somehow you force yourself to listen to him, to calm the raging sea in your body. You relax your back so you aren’t arched against him, pressed up from every joint and bone, and your chest bobs as you settle back into the mattress.

Bakugou takes advantage of your openness to latch his mouth and hands onto your chest. His fingertips tweak one of your nipples while his mouth begins to torment the other. He slips his index and thumb between his teeth and laps his tongue around the digits before returning them to your nipple not currently occupied by his teeth. You whine at the wetness, the cool current from the air conditioner only heightening your sensory overload.

“I love you, Katsuki,” you whisper with your eyes closed, cheek smushed by the pillow under your head, “Fuck, I don’t deserve you.”

To accent your keening, Bakugou pulls out just a few inches before ramming his cock back into you, bottoming out on this stroke. He snaps his hips into you, forcing you to stay close with his free hand dug into your hip bone, fingertips acting like an anchor.

As much as the words send a shot of adrenaline-induced pride straight to his head, Bakugou knows they are false, “Shut up, dumbass. You’re fuckin’ perfect.”

You allow other sentences of praise to fill the room, words echoed against the walls until you’re lightheaded as he fucks you deeper into the mattress. Bakugou is bucking into you with intent – you know he’s never satisfied until your cunt is dripping around his cock, the threat of your release making you clench every part of your body to stave it off until he’s closer.

Your words act like a drug to him – clouding his mind, turning his body into something like a receptacle, drinking in each syllable as if it were his lifeline. He thinks that he might prefer this over hero work. Being able to make you come undone in the best way, knowing that he’s the only one who has this type of meticulous control over your body. The sounds that slice open your throat until you are raw with want are for him and only him, and he knows that that’s enough.

It’s a high he chases each time he parts your pretty pussy; the reality that there are certain sounds that mean you are on a different plane of reality, experiencing the currents running up your spine in such a way that leaves your pupils blown wide and jaw hung open. Bakugou sometimes doesn’t even care if he comes, so long as he gets the privilege of hearing the beautiful sounds that rip your chest open and echo against the walls of your shared home.

The familiar moan that vibrates your throat sparks something in his stomach, his cock twitching within the tight brace of your cunt, “Katsuki, fuck, your cock-”

You can’t finish the sentence because your eyes roll back in your head and a wave of pleasure captures your body and you’re a slave to riding the high until the coil wound tight in your core unravels. Shocks of intense pleasure make your thighs slick as you come onto Bakugou’s cock, combined wetness making the sound of his hips drilling into yours much louder as he continues his motions.

There is an intensity that comes naturally with Bakugou in the bedroom – as if he’s always on a mission, another part of his life that he wants nothing more than to excel at. You are his sole focus, the one thing on his mind in these moments, and all he can think about is the best angles and pressures and words that will make your body coil until you snap, pleasure washing over you like a wave at sea. He wants to pull as many orgasms from you as he can, until you’re a writhing mess, he knows his job isn’t done.

After all, just one is never enough.

Bakugou brushes the heel of his palm against your belly, just under your navel, “Can’t wait to fill you up,” he mumbles, eyes glazed over with thoughts of seeing your stomach bulging with his come. His mouth is rough on your shoulder and collarbone, biting kisses into your skin until you’re blooming red, “Gonna stuff you full of my come, isn’t that what you want?”

You can’t form words, but he knows this. And yet, this is the most exciting time for him. As he attempts to get you to respond with syllables instead of sounds, Bakugou teases your body even further, pushing you into the realm of overstimulation.

“C’mon, baby,” his voice is patronizing, free hand brushing knuckles against your jawline, “talk to me, isn’t that what you want?”

If you could, you’d glare at him, but your mind has entered that subservient space that makes you putty in his hands, uncaring to the tone of his voice being denigrating. Your hands reach for him, begging for patches of his skin to feel under the pads of your fingers. Bakugou leans closer, encouraging you to grope his arms as he flexes his muscles, digging fingers into the sheets to use like an anchor.

“Katsuki,” your eyes split open and your jaw quivers, “p-please, I-I…”

Even in this state of mind, you are aware that Bakugou is close to coming, his cock hardening to full length within your cunt, the tip of him brushing against the spongey spot hidden away. You keen when you feel him continue to wreck into you, that sensitive part of you that he knows so well beginning to enflame at the repeated stimulation. Your fingernails dig deep into his biceps, half-moon shapes cut into his tan skin.

Bakugou winces, “Baby, hey-”

Your heels bore into the base of his back, begging him to stay close to you. Your eyes struggle to find his face, but once you can focus on his eyes, you don’t waver.

“Shit,” he curses, hips stuttering at the sight of your fucked out eyes. He licks his lips and takes a deep breath, “You’re so pretty, baby, so sweet when I fuck you like this.”

You nod, eyes wide and voice desperate as you beg him for more. Every syllable is not your own, your body speaking on your behalf as you careen forward to try and take more of him, to pull him closer with your hands on his shoulders. You want to feel the weight of him like a security blanket, to know that he’s yours and yours alone, and he’d give you anything you wanted if you’d just ask.

“Y-Yes, yes please,” your tone is wanton, edged on the precipice of release and words not your own, “Katsu’, c-come inside me, wanna make you come.”

The begging words that reverberate in his ears are the final straw, coaxing thick ropes of come from his cock as he continues to fuck you through the aftershocks of both of your orgasms. You don’t stop there, though, your mouth finding purchase on his collarbones and pectorals, kisses laced with kindness.

“Feels so good, Katsu,” you whine into his skin, hot breath making his chest tighten, “you feel so good in me, want more of you-”

Bakugou chuckles, rolling his hips forward again as he leans to kiss your temple, “You already got all of me, baby. I don’t have anything left to give you.”

The sentence and it’s weight pry your eyes open and you are staring up at him like he hung the moon. Bakugou sometimes finds it difficult to shoulder the weight of your gaze and what it means. He knows that you can’t control the way your irises gleam, or the little shimmering stars that light up your pupils even in the dark. It’s second nature to you, to behold him in such a way.

And at some level, it stimulates him, forcing him to be the best he can, to earn that look in your eyes. The motivation to see the pride in your irises whenever he returns home after a long day on the job, or even just a day spent doing monotonous paperwork and training, is all he needs. It fills his veins, overtaking his blood and pumping the adrenaline straight to his head.

Reality that he will be able to see this look of reverence settle in your gaze every day for the rest of his life is so overwhelming that he can’t do anything but surge forward and kiss you directly on the mouth.

Because yes, Bakugou is prideful and arrogant, but it is all a mask to hide the utter insignificant being he’s so frightened of becoming. What day will be his reckoning, when he’s exposed as a phony, an imposter only attempting to prove themselves worthy of the public affection he’s received thus far.

And yet, when you tug him close and cover him in the shroud of your kindness, the veil of your love, Bakugou considers that maybe he wouldn’t mind spending the remainder of his days sprinting towards the idea you have of him, the version you’ve pushed up onto an angelic pedestal.

Bakugou discovers that in your arms, he’s found a version of reality where he does not have to be arrogant to conceal the prideful deceptive self he’s built over the years. Instead, he can rely on you to remind him that his broken soul is every bit as beautiful as he’d like to fool himself into believing.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

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knockknockchicagopd · 3 years

Text

❛ KIDNAPPED ❜

❚❙ REQUEST BY @supervalcsi: Yayyyyy requests are open!!! Can I pretty please get random prompt #13 with my man Kevin Atwater? Thank you, so much love!!! 💕❤💕💕

❚❙ Prompts: “You could have gotten yourself killed!” “But… I didn't?”

❚❙ KEVIN ATWATER MASTERLIST.

❚❙ WORDS: about 1.2k

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted.

❚❙ GIF credits: to the author.

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When you woke up this morning and noticed how cold was the other side of your bed, you knew something was wrong. The lack of texts or a call from Kevin was the confirmation. You have been dating for the last three months, but you already know him better than anyone. Whenever he's not working or having a break at Molly's, he is with you. He told you he had to go to see a friend and after that, he would drive to your house. But he never came. That's what took you to the twenty-first District. You didn't know anyone there, beyond what you had heard from your boyfriend, but you were aware of who you were to look for.

Walking to the desk, you waited patiently for the old woman to attend to you. Platt. Kevin had talked about her a lot of times and, in your opinion, she didn't look that grumpy.

“How can I help you?” She asked, putting down her glasses.

“I… I need to… talk with Adam Ruzek”.

She raised an eyebrow with curiosity, quickly noticing your nerves and the way your eyes became crystal, at the edge of the tears. Her gesture turned abruptly, nodding with parted lips before stepping out from the desk to guide you upstairs through a fence. You were almost shaking when you reached the top floor. Recognizing Kevin's best friend instantly, after seeing some pictures together, you ran towards him to wrap your arms around him. You broke into bitter crying, while your boyfriend's partners looked at Platt waiting for an explanation.

“Huh… you okay?” The man asked confused, stroking your back in an attempt to calm you.

Hardly sniffing, barely breathing, you pulled yourself away trying to form a phrase with sense to explain your paranoia. A brunette girl offered you a kleenex, as a blonde one helped you to sit on a chair. Burgess and Upton. You were very sure. The other men at the other extreme of the place were Dawson, Olinsky, and Voight.

“I am… Kevin's girlfr—girlfriend. I think he's missing”.

You cleaned the tears wetting your cheek, while Kim squatted close to you. Everybody was confounded and disconcerted because of your affirmation. Because of both.

“He texted me telling me he'd go to see a friend and the—then... he'd come to my house. But he didn't come. He didn't text me or anything. I… I know how it sounds. I know it sounds crazy, but… he never shut his phone off…”

“What hour was when you talked to him for the last time?” Ruzek whispered thoughtfully.

“Eight o'clock”.

“Hm…”

Your eyes went straight to the sergeant, to his boss. He saw the desperation in your eyes. He saw you were telling the truth and, for him, it was strange that Kevin hadn't come to work yet. It was almost ten in the morning.

“Burgess, stay with her and give her something warm to drink. Everyone else; I want Atwater's phone and car signal. Let's find him”.

Soon, the whole department was patrolling the city, even looking under the stones. Officers walked from one place to another making phone calls, checking security cameras, triangulating every move Kevin could do last night… Anything to locate him and bring him back. Apparently, all his friends agreed with your paranoia, turning it into reality when Adam received a call on his undercover phone. But Burgess didn't let you hear it, closing the door after abandoning the small kitchen separated from the work zone.

You were a bundle of nerves not being able to stop sobbing, feeling a strong headache growing in the center of your forehead. Just by thinking that something had happened to him, the pressure within your chest contracted your lungs and closed your throat. No one noticed before you did. What if you hadn't given it any importance? Sitting on the sofa and nailing your elbows on your lap, you covered your face with both hands. You couldn't hold the furious and frustrated tears for any longer. Even if you didn't have a reason to, you were feeling guilty.

The incertitude was driving you crazy as the hours continued passing away without any news about Kevin. You could see his Unit working through the large window, trying to read lips to figure out what was happening. But nothing. You were good at serving drinks, not being a detective. The sensation of being useless was killing you. The only thing you wanted to do was to help, but Kevin's boss asked you to wait there for them before leaving the building.

It's almost noon when you hear voices and steps again coming closer, going upstairs. You can't help but jump from your seat to open the door of the kitchen, trying to recognize Kevin's voice, but you don't. Their partners appear on the scene with satisfied smiles on their faces and you don't know what it means until they open the way for your boyfriend, walking behind them. He looks exhausted, but he isn't hurt. Your lips start to tremble about to cry when he raises his eyes towards you and you can't feel your heart stopping for a second.

Taking some steps closer, you don't question why their friends leave you alone continuing their way through another door at the right of the stairs. You want to say sorry for coming to the District because maybe a call would be enough, but you couldn't wait. Even so, you're aware that if it hadn't been for you, he probably would be missing yet.

“I was worried”. You babble rubbing your hands and biting your bottom lip.

But Kevin doesn't reply, going straight to you to place his arms around your body, embracing you with the strength he has left after all that has happened. You break into a soft cry, a happy one for finally having him back. Safe and sound.

“It's okay, baby… It's okay”. He whispers trying to comfort you, tilting his head to place some kisses on your temple. “I got you really spoiled, uh…? I don't text you and you think I've been kidnapped”.

Gulping a loud laugh, you nod pulling yourself away a little. Luckily, you weren't wrong and his friends didn't think you were crazy.

“Why did you go alone? You could have gotten yourself killed…”

“But I didn't”. He jokes drawing a funny gesture, turning it after in a brief smile. “You were protecting me, weren't you?”

“Kev… I just…”

“You did the right thing coming here, okay? I'm not angry, or upset”.

Your boyfriend cups your cheeks onto his palms, leaning forward to press his lips on yours, pecking them once and once before spreading kisses all around your face.

“Lemme take you home, alright? You've earned all my attention for today”.

“I will take care of you today”. Shaking your head as you sniff, you hug him again as much tightly as you can, not wanting him to be separated from you another time. “I… I love you, Kev”.

“I love you too, (Y/N). You can't really imagine how much. What you've done today… I'm sure other girls would've thought I just ghosted them. But you came here and put my friends to work”.

“I'm more like the psychotic kind of girlfriends”.

“Yeah, you have mobilized more than eighty cops to find me. Should I be scared?” The jokingly on his voice, while he raises both eyebrows, makes you laugh cleaning your tears with the fist of your sleeves.

“Maybe just a little…”

#lemme know what you think in a comment! ⚡#chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd x reader #one chicago #kevin atwater #kevin atwater x reader

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revengeisourlullaby · 4 years

Text

Dai the Flu

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected, a bit of a daddy kink, spanking, biting, spiting, cumplay, quirk usage, choking, voyeurism, slight dumbification, degradation, lil bit of fluff at the end

a/n: this is my first time ever writing a smut. i’ve actually never really attempted creating something in the format of a fanfic. so please, if anything, lemme know what i can do better! hope you enjoy this <3

Word count: 7.5K

Dabi x female reader

You weren’t a part of the League of Villains, but you had a small involvement with them. It wasn’t the turn you wanted your life to take, but after you had a run in with Dabi, it was almost inevitable.

You were walking back to your apartment after your shift at the corner store was over. Darkness had already been cast upon the sky and the only thing surrounding you was the static from the neon signs declaring that a shop was still open. The whir of passing cars gave you a sense of comfort walking alone at such a late hour. The area of town where you lived had gone up in villain attacks and you were always on edge. It wasn’t that you couldn’t handle yourself but the last thing you wanted was to face off against someone you had no business doing so.

There was word going around about this guy who was a human cremation system and honestly it gave you goosebumps thinking about it. It was one reason you wished you had another way to get home. Just thinking about those blue flames flashing before your eyes was enough to give you nightmares and yet, the man who this quirk was attached to was something out of your dreams. You couldn’t deny that he was attractive, after seeing him on the news in passing one day while getting ready for work, his face was ingrained in your brain. Even though he bore resemblance to a modern day Frankenstein, something about him had you hooked.

You were almost a block away from your apartment complex when you passed an alleyway and heard footsteps. Curiosity taking over, you stopped in your tracks and tried to peer down the alleyway that was shrouded in darkness, a lone lamppost giving off dingy yellow light. You started to feel your stomach twist in knots as you heard the footsteps getting louder and the silhouette of this person becoming more visible. Once you saw the beginnings of this figure’s hair your heart stopped and your eyes widened in disbelief.

It’s him.

Your mind was racing and you were frozen in fear. You couldn't move your body to move, let alone let alone a word to announce for him to stay away from you. As he passed the lamppost you saw his staples shine in the dim light, making him look more daunting than usual. You shook your head to bring back to reality and attempted to make your break for your apartment. Having seen enough and being in paralyzed in your own astonishment, you wanted to get out of there as fast as you could. The universe had different plans for you though.

“Hey.”

“Fuck..” you muttered under your breath. Before your left foot could even touch the ground he stopped you dead in your tracks.

“You’ve been standing there like a lost dog watching me limp up here, least you could do is respond back.”

You turned, almost robotically and finally faced him. He had now moved up a lot closer to you and you had to crane your neck to look at him.

“Hey kid, you a mute or somethin’?” he chuckled to himself really while you were still slightly shaking in your frozen state.

“N-no.” you shook your head in embarrassment trying to get your bearings together. You didn’t want to end up like the others but also was so confused on how to approach who was in front of you

“Sorry I’m just a little shook up here. I don’t know what I was expecting by sticking my nose in this but it definitely wasn’t this.” you had finally managed to get out. Your breath heavy and hands visibly shaking.

“Well, since you stuck your nose in someone else’s business don’t you think you should help ‘em out if they need it. I think you do.” He smirked at his staples having a slight click when he moved his mouth.

“What are you suggesting here..” you trailed off. The man pointed at his torso that he was holding with his other hand in a poor attempt to stall the bleeding that was oozing out of him.

“Kinda a little cut up here sweetheart...what were you thinking about?” He smirked forcing you to turn your head away due to the unwanted heat rushing to your cheeks.

“Uh-yeah...I can help you out. I’ve got a kit at my place. Just follow me.” your voice was meek due to the sheer embarrassment you felt at the moment. As you walked out of the alleyway you felt his blue eyes burning through your back. You weren’t sure whether to start up a conversation, you couldn’t place if it was due to the fear running through your veins or fear of humiliating yourself again in front of someone you found so intimidating yet so beguiling.

Finally reaching your complex, you walked up the stairs leading into your second level apartment. Heavy footsteps trailing behind you, you grabbed your keys from your back pocket and unlocked the door to your home. As you stepped in you hit the light by the door, illuminating the main room. Turning around to shut the door, you took a deep breath to prepare yourself with the villain you just willingly brought into your home. Turning back around to face him you fully realized that you had Dabi standing in the main room of your apartment, blood pooling out into his hand and staining his white shirt.

“Come on let’s get into the bathroom and get you cleaned up.” your eyes refused to meet his and you stared at the floor while walking to your bathroom because you could once again feel the heat rising up into your face.

“You got a lot of guts to just bring a wanted villain in your place and help him out. How do you know this isn’t a ploy of mine to wrap you in my flames?” He asked while standing in the doorway of your bathroom while you were searching in the cabinet underneath the sink. Finding it, you stood up and faced him

“You would’ve done it already. You don’t peg me as the type to play with your food; plus, as you pointed out, you’ve got a situation we need to handle. Not as menacing when you’re asking for help. Even if you phrase it as an owed debt.” you turned away from him to open up your first aid kit box. Surprised at your own sudden confidence while speaking to him. Looking back up at him, you pointed toward your counter.

“Have a seat.”

He looked at you and a small smirk forming upon his lips. You furrowed your brows slightly, trying to understand the look he was giving you. You shook your head feeling that you were giving yourself away too much and grabbed the gauze out of the box.

“Can you take off your jacket and shirt for me…” your voice softening, feeling as if you were intruding somewhat. He silently obliged by taking off his top articles of clothing. As they both landed on the floor, leaving a small splotch of blood as it hit the tiles. Your breath got caught in your throat as you paused your movements, staring at his toned chest. Pulling you out of your thoughts you heard Dabi’s voice resonate through your ears.

“If you’re gonna stare like that you could at least get me some food. Or at least fix me up first.”

He smirked looking at you straight in your eyes. Your eyes widened, completely humiliated that you had been caught staring at him so shamelessly. You quickly grabbed some hydrogen peroxide from underneath your sink to wet the gauze and clean up his wounded area before you did anything else. Closing in on his torso you brought the wet gauze around his wound to wipe away any smeared and dried blood. Throwing the used one away, you grabbed another and wet it again placing it directly on his open gash. He hissed at the contact chastising you in the process.

“Hey watch it! That shit hurts”

“Look, it’s not like I want it to hurt, but if I don’t do this it will get infected. Pretty sure that's the last thing your body needs.” You looked at him with eyes narrowed. Glancing toward his scars. While you knew that comment was a little harsh, you were annoyed not only with yourself for slipping up in front him but also his attitude was starting to irritate you.

“You’re pretty funny” he rolled his eyes and lightly chuckled at you.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the small suture kit in your first aid box. Lining yourself up with his torso you pressed the needle against his skin,

“This is probably going to hurt a bi-”

“-You look pretty good beneath me like this.” Dabi cut you off before you got the chance to give your warning about the sutures he was about to receive. Looking up at him incredulously you scoffed and continued your work. He chuckled but before he could get it out of his system you cut him off by saying he needed to stay still or he would make this process a lot longer. Both of you letting out a sigh you finally finished up the last stitch and snipped the end of the thread with a scissor. Leaving the bathroom, you went to go grab a shirt from your bedroom.

“Stay here, I need to grab something.” you added before you left the doorway. You went into your drawer looking to find one of your oversized t-shirts to give to him. Grabbing an old Slipknot shirt you went back into the bathroom to find him standing in front of the mirror looking at himself. Holding your hand out you gave him the shirt.

“I’m not sure of the state of your jacket but I can’t let you leave with a bloodied shirt. It’d really make you eyesore out there.”

Staring down at you, Dabi looked at you with something that could almost be seen as curiosity. Taking the shirt from your hands, you swore you saw a small smile creep onto his face.

“Thanks princess.”

The pet name that slipped from his lips made you fluster immediately. Your eyes widening for a moment and heart rate picking up. He obviously saw the effect it had on you because when you looked at him the smirk that adorned his face was impish. Fully knowing what he was doing to you.

Picking his jacket up off your bathroom floor, he slipped it on and looked at you to move from the doorway. Scooching to the left you let him pass by. You knew he couldn’t stay but for some reason your heart sank as you watched him go to your front door. As if he knew the wave of emotions running through you, he turned around with his hand still on the door handle,

“Don’t worry sweetheart, you’ll see me around soon enough.” and with that he turned around and walked out the door. Your back hit the wall in your hallway and you let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding in. Shoving your hands into your face you rubbed them and heaved out a sigh.

“What the fuck just happened...”

With that you failed to realize the world you just opened yourself up to. The world of having Dabi actively in your life. You failed to realize that this quick interaction with a villain that stirred up such fear in others was one to stir up excitement in you.

That happened over six months ago. Over the span of these few months you ended up becoming Dabi’s personal ER doc. Not by choice either. You never knew when he was gonna spring up on you while walking home from work, at work, or even sneaking through your window waiting for you to return home. Something he called a “pleasant surprise” for you. To see him sprawled on your couch covered in filth and the occasional markings of blood.

Tonight was the start of you finally having a few days off of work. So you decided to treat yourself to some self care days. You felt you deserved it. Between dealing with the nightlife that sauntered into the corner store and constantly having to patch up Dabi, you were reaching your limit of it all. You needed a few moments to yourself to finally release all the pent up emotions that were flowing over inside of you. Unlocking the door unto your apartment, you threw your keys into the bowl on the table by your door. Propping your hands on the back of your neck you stretched and let out a moan. Sighing, you walk into your bedroom rummaging through your drawers, you grabbed a sleep shirt, some underwear, and a few candles. Walking into your bathroom you set the items on the counter. Lighting the candles, you looked in the mirror noticing your tiredness masking over your face. Feeling grimey from the day's work, you stripped yourself of your clothes and turned the shower on. You wanted to scrub any filth off first before you decided to rest in the bath.

Finishing up cleaning off your body you pulled the knob on the head of the bathtub to switch up the source of water. Grabbing your lavender scented bath salts from the floor you poured them into the stream of hot water flowing from the knob. Deciding they had dissolved enough you let your body relax into the tub, the feeling of the water instantly relaxing your muscles. There was steam filling up the bathroom adding to the relaxing aura you had already created. Closing your eyes your mind had drifted to him. That blue eyed bastard. He didn’t even know your name. It was never short of a surprise whenever he showed up and you couldn’t deny the excitement that stirred within your body when he did.

He was intoxicating. Like a drug. You knew that he was more than a handful to be involved with but, something about him wouldn’t allow you to leave him alone. You were always ready to help him, even if seeing him in such a state worried you. You wondered what unannounced visit would be the last. You couldn’t deny how you wished there was something more than just you patching him up and him leaving with a wink. It pained you not being able to live out this fantasy of yours, but you knew it was for the best.

Opening your eyes, you let out a big sigh. Bringing yourself up from out of the tub and letting it drain, you grabbed your towel from off the toilet and dried your body off. Blowing out the candles you put on your moisturizer and sleepwear and left the bathroom sauntering back in your room. Leaving your dirty clothes on the floor in the bathroom. Sitting on the edge of your bed your mind drifted to Dabi again and a sudden urge overcame your body. Feeling heat rush to your core you scooted further back on your bed and situated yourself into a more comfortable position.

Letting your hands roam down your body you scrunched up your shirt moving to play with your nipples. Guiding one hand down to your core you began to tease your sensitive bud through your underwear. Getting antsy you pulled your underwear off and threw them somewhere on your bedroom floor. Slipping your fingers into your wet hole you began thrusting them inside you, your back arching while doing so. Squeezing harder on your hardened nipple you let out a soft moan. Increasing your speed you grazed over the spongy spot inside you causing you to let out a loud gasp and a name slipped from your lips.

“Dabi~”

Too engrossed in your own pleasure you failed to hear the window in your main room slide open. A slender leg slipped through the window and Dabi pulled himself in. He had no intentions of being patched up tonight, he just decided to make a quick stop considering he was in the area. Turning around to shut the window he heard you gasping from the other room. Curiosity and pure sadism rushing through his veins he made slow steps to your bedroom. With you having left your door open he was able to watch over you without making a sound. Crossing his arms, a smirk was cast upon his face watching your writhe in your self made pleasure. Completely intrigued by your moans he continued to watch but what he didn’t expect was the words that followed,

“Dabi! Please~”

His eyes widened for a second but they quickly narrowed, carnal desires now taking over his mind. His smirk turned into a sadistic smile and he finally opened his mouth.

“I’ve always wondered what it takes…”

His voice boomed through your room, echoing in your head like a tainted prayer. Your hand ripped from your drenched cunt embarrassed heat rushing to your face. You felt mortified.

“D-dabi...what’re you doing in here”

“Ah, c’mon princess, that’s not how you were saying it before. Say it right.” He sneered at you obviously amused by your state of utter humiliation.

“You can’t just come in here unannounced” you tried desperately to keep your composure while your slick was drying on your fingers.

“I always come in unannounced and by the looks of things...looks like you wanted me to cum in somewhere else.” His voice dropped entering a state of utter rasp. Eyes trailing down your body. He started to stalk over to you like a predator to its prey,

“Dabi, I- you weren’t supposed to see me like this ever. Please...just leave I can’t take you looking at me like this anymore.” You hid your hand underneath yourself trying to look as in control as possible, but the docile tone in your voice betrayed your words. Dabi continued his tread toward you, coming up near the edge of your bed. Pressing his hands into the mattress he leaned forward, pinning you with his eyes against the bed.

“You’re right, but right now I really enjoy what I see.” Drawing his finger up your exposed leg. He continued his verbal assault on you

“In fact, I’d like to see you under me. Squirming and crying while you beg for me to give you a break when you know you just want me to keep fucking you.” He breathed out as he crawled over your figure.

“But before we do that princess, I just realized I don’t know your name. Why don’t you tell me, hmm” As if to emphasize his question, he pressed his thumb into your clit causing you to moan out his name.

“Nah, sweetheart, that’s my name. Tell me yours” He purred against your ear, his breath hot against it.

“Y/N.” you panted out “It’s Y/N.” Unable to catch your breath you just looked up at him, frozen at what was currently happening to you.

“Y/N huh, it suits you. Although, I can’t promise you that’s the only thing I’m gonna be calling you tonight.” He leaned down pressing unusually gentle kisses into the crook of your neck. Your body filling up with goosebumps and heat rushing straight to your core. You moan arching your back, simultaneously giving him better access to your neck. Enjoying yourself a little too much, you were brought back to reality when he sank his teeth into your shoulder. Hissing you snapped your head at him ready to bark out profanities, but he beat you to it.

His two toned hand wrapped around your jaw, squishing your cheeks together and pursing your lips forward.

“Don’t even try it. I got you all figured out Y/N. You make a move and I’ve already predicted it.”

“Oh bite me.” You hissed at him.

“Careful. Princess.” Growling out his words, he sunk his teeth back into your shoulder making you let out an ungodly moan. Coming out from the crease where your shoulder and neck meet he looked into your glossed over orbs

“I believe the sting proves heart to me, and I know that you love me. So submit to me, I promise you won’t want anything else.”

“Dabi, please.” you whined against him

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you, say it one more time Y/N.” Releasing his grip from your jaw it allowed you to enunciate better even though he heard you clearly the previous time.

“Dabi, please, I wan- I need you so bad. Please Dabi don’t make me wait anymore”

“Look at you, whining like a desperate slut and all I’ve done is thumb your clit a bit. You’re pathetic. I love it.” Grabbing your jaw again he looked down at you his pupils blown wide with lust and his member poking at your sex through his pants.

“Open your mouth.”

Shamelessly, you opened your mouth, automatically sticking your tongue out for him.

“Good girl.” He curled his bottom lip back a bit gathering the spit in his mouth and he spat it into yours. You squeezed your eyes shut in shock of what just happened but you couldn’t lie to yourself. You were soaking and were begging silently for him to do it again. When your eyes opened back up they resembled that of a doe. Looking at Dabi with complete adoration. A dark chuckled stumbled from him mouth

“You liked that didn’t you, you naughty bitch.” He emphasized the last of his words with a hard slap to your thigh which jiggled from the impact. You bit your lip trying to hold back a moan to not give him the satisfaction.

“C’mon baby girl moan for me. They’re so sweet, I love ‘em. Let me hear you.” He slapped your thigh again punctuating his words. He slithered down your body and came face to face with your core. Wrapping his arms around your hips, he brought your body closer to his face, his nose brushing up against your clit. You whimpered, the unexpected contact making you grow impatient.

“God, please, please use your mouth on me, I’m begging you Dabi.” You cried out to him and he crowed at you

“Damn, I didn’t even have to ask. You’re such a slut.” He bowed his head into your core, licking a stripe from your hole up to your clit. You threw your head back indulging in the sudden pleasure he was giving you. Lapping at your clit, he looked up at you through hooded eyes. Feeling his gaze, you met his eyes and when you did he placed a small nip at your clit, following it with a hard suck. You darted your hand down to his head, threading your fingers through his stygian locks.

Pulling at it, you felt him smile against your heat, still continuing his performance on your clit. Feeling your core twitch and the knot in your stomach tighten, your breath started to quicken and started babbling that you were about to cum. Tightening your grip on Dabi’s hair, your high washed over you spawning you to arch your back and your legs to shake from the stimulation. Panting heavily and trying to bring yourself back down you heard Dabi’s voice ring through your ears.

“Get up.” You were in such a state of overbearing lust that it took you a moment to register what Dabi had said to you. Your body finally registered his words and lifted yourself up from your spot on the bed. Standing up, you watched him roll off of his knees and sit on the edge of your bed waiting for you to finish his command.

“Y/N, don’t just stand there, come over here in front of me. You know I don’t bite hard.” He patted his lap while carefully watching your movements while you made your way toward him. Standing in between his legs you wrapped your arms around his neck, you weaved your hand in his hair pulling his head back. Looking into his alluring blue eyes, down to his lips and back up to his eyes. You two spoke an unspoken language and with that you smashed your lips upon his.

He moved himself a little further back onto your bed and pulled you down with him, forcing you to straddle his hips. The kiss was nasty and fueled by pure unuttered lust. Grinding down against him he let out a strangled moan. Your wetness leaving a trail on the outside of his pants. You clawed down Dabi’s chest and he pulled at your hair in response. With a low growl he pulled you away from him and looked straight through you.

“Get on your knees for me.”

Licking the leftover spit off from your lips you backed up and brought yourself down to your knees. Teasing with the buckle of his belt, you pulled it out of its loops antagonizing slow. Following suit with the button of his pants, you pulled them down along with his underwear. Your eyes widened slightly at the sight of his cock, having you wonder if you could fully take it down.

“Staring at it isn’t gonna do it for me princess.”

Looking up at him with doe eyes and a slight nod, you licked a stripe up from the base of his cock up to the tip, pressing a feather light kiss to the head. Lapping away at the drops of precum beading out, you swirled your tongue around his tip before gathering up spit and letting it fall down the sides of his hard cock. With one hand at the base you took him into your mouth, looking up at him through your lashes. Gagging slightly when his tip hit the back of your throat. Tears welling up in your eyes at the contact, Dabi let out a low moan, throwing his hand into your hair,

“God. You’re so good at this Y/N.”

With the sudden praise you picked up the pace feeling confidence surge through you. You incorporated your hand and bobbed your head in sync. Taking your other hand, you began to fondle his balls adding extra stimulation

“Y/N fuck. Fuck keep doing that” Dabi’s hand tightened in your hair and he began thrusting lightly into your mouth, attempting to hold onto the last bits of his composure. You hollowed out your cheeks creating a tight seal around his dick and he groaned so loud that it definitely echoed into the halls of your surrounding neighbors.

“Fuck! Y/N, I’m gonna, fuck I’m cumming- ah!” His thick ropes of cum shot in the back of your throat but before you could swallow Dabi grabbed your jaw again,

“Keep that fuckin cum in you mouth. You don’t swallow until I say you can. Now get on the bed and lie down.”

Keeping your mouth closed, you climbed up onto the bed and lied on your back, careful to not choke on the fluid residing in your mouth. Dabi stepped out of his pants and came up to place a kiss upon your lips. He reached down to the bottom of your sleep shirt and pulled it over your head. Before he came back down to your body, he discarded his shirt across your bedroom floor. He faced you again, kissing across your collarbone, trailing down the valley between your breasts and finally landing on a nipple. Suckling on it you let out an airy moan, still worried about choking on the cum you had settled in your mouth.

Dabi looked up at you and smirked, trailing his hand down the curves of your body, placing his palm flat upon your tummy he let his hand fall into your dripping sex. Rubbing small circles in your clit, he sucked harder on your nipple. You threw your head back in sheer pleasure simply forgetting about the cum in your mouth, you swallowed. One of Dabi’s fingers slipped inside your aching core and you whipped your head forward letting out a scream. This caught Dabi’s attention and immediately he was on your case.

“Oh. So my little whore doesn’t know how to follow orders does she? Such a pity I was hoping to have a little more fun with you.” Removing himself from your body he sat up on the bed. Looking at you, a domineering look took over his eyes.

“For not following directions...bend yourself over my lap baby girl. I’m gonna remind you of who’s in charge here. Now, count.” His voice dropped and your heart raced, making your blood boil all at the same time. How was he having this affect on you so easily. Your body moved on its own before you could resist his command. Laying yourself across his lap you felt your breath quicken, unsure of how these next few moments were going to turn out. Your questions were answered quickly when Dabi’s hand met your bare ass cheek. You let out a squeal surprised at the contact.

“I said, count Y/N. I don’t like repeating myself.”

“S-sorry, o-one.” you stuttered out as another slap came down on your ass.

“Two.” By the ninth slap your ass was starting to sting and you weren’t sure how much more you could take. All of a sudden you felt an unexpected heat creep up on your backside, when you turned your head you saw small embers of blue flying around. You saw Dabi’s hand raise,

“Dabi...why is your quirk activated?”

“Because princess, not only do I need to remind you who’s in charge, I need to remind you who you belong to.” With that, his hand came down with a final smack leaving his handprint branded on your ass. Letting out a scream that would make the hair stand up on anyone else, it brought a smile to Dabi’s lips. Letting him know that he had done his work properly.

“You’ll never forget me.” His voice dripping in your ear like honey. His foul words sweeten your mind and current neglected heat.

“Dabi, please I need you now.” Pulling yourself up from his lap you looked at him in the eyes, straddling his waist again.

“Move back.” you softly told him, a speck of dominance threatening to break through your tone.

“Watch the tone Y/N, remember who’s in charge here” he sighed out, but nonetheless centered himself against the headboard of your bed. You moved to the foot of the bed crawling up towards Dabi. Resting in between his legs, you gave him a teasing lick against the entirety of his length, looking up at him through your lashes while doing so. Furthering your journey up his body, you brought your legs around his hips hovering over his intimidating length. You already had the same thought before you sucked him off but taking him into your pussy had a different feeling. Setting off your nerves in the most pleasurable way imaginable. Lowering yourself you started grinding against his cock which released a groan from him.

“C’mon baby don’t tease me. I don’t think you want another punishment do you?” he cocked his head lowering his eyes as he finished his threat. A sudden wave of confidence bursting through you, you spat back at him

“I think you can handle a little teasing. I’m already yours, at least let me have a little fun.” You bat your eyes at him coming closer down to his face to insinuate a sloppy kiss. During your assault on his mouth, you reached your hand down between your legs and wrapped your hand around his cock, slowly pumping him. Receiving a small moan from him, you moved his tip to your slick opening and inched your way down until he bottomed out inside of you. Tearing his face away from yours he let out a moan that sent vibrations directly to your heat causing you to tighten around him.

“Fuck! Y/N” he panted, placing his two toned hands on the curve of your hips he helped you bounce up and down on him. Throwing your head back in pleasure you groan. He filled you up so well hitting up into your cervix with every thrust. Taking more control over your thrusts you brought yourself forward starting a heated kiss between you two. Weaving your hand into his hair you tugged at it, eliciting a groan from Dabi.

“Yeah, you like that Dabi?” You said in a tone that you would soon regret. The taunting nature that controlled your sentence, relinquished the last bit of power you had in the situation. Tightening his grip on your hips, Dabi flipped you over. The wind knocked out of you and your eyes widened as he hovered over you. His eyes a swirling mix of lust and predatory dominance.

“I let you have your fun. Now, it’s my turn.” Bringing himself down to your ear he breathed in “I’m gonna make your scream my name until you cry. I want you crying underneath me because it feels so good.” Noticing you starting to squirm beneath him in a poor attempt to feel some friction he smirked. Spitting in your face again, he ordered you, “Now, beg.”

With a hard slap to your thigh you squealed, mumbling out a small please in hopes that it would be enough for him. You were aching and were starting to lose your touch with reality.

With a dark chuckle, he spat at you

“That’s not fucking begging, do it right or I’ll leave you here a sopping mess. With only your hand to take care of you.”

“N-no please! Please, Dabi I need you. I need you so bad. I wanna cum I wanna cum with you inside me. Please, please don’t leave me here, I know I’m desperate, but please fuck me! I can't stand another momen-Ah!”

Without letting you finish your sentence Dabi plunged himself inside of you. Bottoming out you let out a moan so strangled you felt embarrassed at the sound that came out of you.

“Yeah, you’ve been waiting for this all night haven’t you. You hopeless slut. So fuckin desperate for my cock to be inside of you like this. You’re practically cumming already.”

Moaning out you arched your back in writhing pleasure, almost unable to consume what you were feeling all over. Dabi only added to your rapture by wrapping his stapled hand around your throat and bringing his other to play with your swollen bud. This extra stimulation forced you to clench and twitch around his hard cock which in turn made him pick up his pace.

“Look at you, you’re fuckin pathetic. Your pussy gets tighter as I wrap my hand around your throat. You like it when I ram into you like this?”

Lost in your pleasure you just squeaked out a moan not being able to form complete sentences.

“Fuckfuck, Yes! I love it, shit!” Slurring your words together you didn’t even feel the embarrassment that you had been all evening. You just wanted to be fucked, you needed to be absolutely ruined.

With Dabi’s quickened pace you felt the knot below your stomach form and you clenched tighter around him.

“You gonna fuckin cum, baby? Yeah, cum all over my cock Y/N.”

Dabi applied more pressure on his hand that was placed on your clit and that sent you over the edge. Your orgasm washing over you and stealing the last of your breath with a moan ripping through your cords. The pleasure that’s coursing through you caused your body to jerk forward, accidentally hitting your head against Dabi’s. With a growl coming from him and your pussy clenching around him he released inside you, feeling his hot ropes of cum paint the insides of your walls white. He dropped his head in the crook of your neck and bit down hard, almost drawing blood.

“God damn, you feel so good Y/N.” Panting out his words he flipped you over, “Bring your ass up here baby, I’m not done with you yet.”

Still trying to catch your breath, you bring yourself up on your knees arching your back to an angle that almost hurt. You felt Dabi line up with your entrance, once again teasing you. Not fully inserting himself in and playing with the shared juices dripping out of your hole.

“Daddy please don’t tease me again, I can’t handle it” you begged him. Before you could even realize what slipped from your mouth Dabi made sure to make you flustered about your current slip up.

“Daddy, huh? You wanna be my good little girl, princess?”

“Dabi, I-I I didn’t mean that I’m sorr-”

“Shh Y/N, Daddy’s gonna make you feel real good.”

With that Dabi sheathed himself inside you, the friction sending you over the edge. He set an unrelenting pace making you scream out in ecstasy.

“Shit! Dabi!”

Removing one of his hands from your side he wrapped it around the back of your neck, bringing your back up against his chest.

“Say it right baby girl, I wanna hear you scream it.”

With tears welling in your eyes from the overwhelming sense of pleasure washing over you you screamed out

“Daddy! Shit, please. Fuck me. I need you to ruin me”

Craning your neck to look at him from the side in your current position, he turned your head to face his and shoved you into a bruising kiss. The contrast of his skin setting sparks off in your brain. You had felt nothing like it and yet you never wanted to feel anything else in this moment.

“God, you feel so fuckin good clenching down on me like that. Like it when I fuck you like this?” He punctuated his words by thrusting even harder into you. Taking the hand that was around the back of your neck, he shoved your face back into the mattress of the bed moving his hand to press in the small of your back. Putting your back into a burning position. You screamed out attempting to get used to the pain you were just placed in. The sound of skin slapping echoed through the room and you knew that your moans were ringing through your apartment but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Dabi felt too good and you were lost in the euphoria of what he was doing to you.

“Ohhh, Fuck! Y/N” Dabi brought both of his hands to your ass now and was intensifying his thrusts. You were trying your best to meet his thrusts but his pace was so zealous you could barely keep up. You felt the fat of your ass rippling with each thrust and you were starting to feel yourself come to that peak again.

“Ohmygodoh~ fuck, Daddy, I’m gonna cum, please let me cum again.”

Tears were starting to fall from your eyes, the overstimulation of it all catching up to you. You didn’t mean to, but you let out a sniffle giving away your euphoric disposition. Slipping out of you and turning you on your back, Dabi plastered his hands on the side of your head, making you feel so small.

“I told you I wanted to see you cry Y/N, now why would you try and hide that from me? Your face, show me...let me know what you like.” He purred into your ear. Sending goosebumps down the entirety of your body and making your hole flutter around nothing. Lining himself back with your entrance he slowly pushed into you. Almost mocking you for being so close to your release.

“I’m gonna watch you cry while I fuck you and you’re gonna scream my name so loud that this whole complex is going to know exactly who’s making you feel this good.”

Starting at a slow pace Dabi made sure that you would feel every inch sliding in and out of you. You brought your hands to the sides of his back leaving red trails in their wake, careful to avoid his scars. Hissing at the contact Dabi moved one of your hands from his back and grabbed your leg. Bringing it up to rest on his shoulder, giving him deeper access to your soaking cavern. Tears began to fall from your eyes again from both the sheer excitement and lust of the situation you choked out stumbled words.

“Holy fuck Dabi, I’m gonna I’mgonnacum soon, oh my~ shit!”

You felt Dabi put his other hand back on your clit and began rubbing fast hard circles.

“Can’t even form a proper sentence, am I really fuckin you that good princess?”

“Yesyesyes, fuck Dabi please I’m gonna cum”

“Yeah? Yeah, c’mon, cum around my cock Y/N. Ohh, fuck!”

Letting a wanton moan rip from your throat your head dipped back into the sheets, but before you could be fully immersed in your ecstasy, Dabi grabbed the back of your neck forcing you to face him.

“Look at me when you come sweetheart, I wanna watch you fall apart before me.”

A moan turned into a scream and your final tears fell down your cheeks, wetting small sections of your hair that was sprawled out underneath you. Clenching and fluttering even harder around his cock, Dabi released another load into you, stilling inside you while he groaned out in pleasure and pride of how he ruined you.

Both of you panting and returning back to reality after living out your highs, Dabi came down to press an unusual soft kiss to your lips. It almost felt loving and after the intense scene the two of you just shared. It made you feel oddly comfortable. Dabi pulled out of you, his seed following shortly after, pooling out of your hole. Dabi laid down beside you, eyes piercing into you. Getting in your last breath you finally looked over at him, looking into his addictive blue eyes once more.

“That was hot.” He said sort of deadpan, yet his eyes showed something different.

“I think that would be an understatement. I’m still shaking...” you rolled over onto your stomach placing a hand on his chest. Drawing small shapes into his chest you continued your sentence

“...but, I’m not complaining, I could go a few more rounds with you.” Biting your lip you looked up at him. Something of a gleam of hope shining in your eyes.

“Not sure if you could handle it princess, you were crying quite a bit a moment ago.” He chuckled, a small yet sincere smile adorning his lips.

“Get up real quick for me.” You pushed yourself off of him and let him get up. He walked out of your bedroom and into the hallway. You heard the water running for a moment and then stopping. He emerged from the bathroom with a damp towel in his hands. Tossing it to you, he figured you knew what it was for. Giving him a nod, you silently thanked him and cleaned yourself up a bit. Your mind started to race and your heart plummeted, realizing this was probably just a one time thing. You watched Dabi reach for his underwear pulling them up his legs. Throwing the now used wet towel on the floor you grabbed a new sleep shirt from your drawer. Pulling it over your head you felt a deafening silence take over the room.

How did he leave so quick, you thought. Dread filling your face to turned around only to see Dabi still in your room. He was sitting on your bed, back halfway up against your headboard staring at you.

“Heh, I thought you left. It got so quiet.” You began fidgeting with your fingers feeling somewhat embarrassed again standing in front of him.

“Not you being embarrassed again after I was inside you. Besides, what kind of asshole do you take me for? Leaving without a word. I may come in without one, but you’ll always know when I’m gone, sweetheart. Come here.’’ Patting the spot on the bed next to him, you climbed in next to him sitting down. A little further away from him than necessary.

“Closer, Y/N.” A small smile fell on his lips as you finally let your embarrassment go and you cuddled into his side.

“Stay. Please.” You looked up at him, eyes glossing over out of fear of hearing rejection fall from his lips.

“I’m not going anywhere kid, not now.” Bringing his hand to rest on your head, he began to rub your temple, slowly lulling you to sleep. You didn’t know where you two were going to stand by morning, but that was a thought that could wait till then. Right now, you wanted to hold onto this moment, cherishing the memory.

#my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia smut #dabi #dabi x reader #dabi x female reader #dabi x y/n #mha #bnha #dabi smut

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aalissy · 3 years

Text

Interview

Another chapter done :D! I hope that you guys enjoy it! Lemme know what you think! Oh, and Alya totalllyyy knew what she was doing with that question hahaha ;)

AO3

Adrien gaped at his computer. He rubbed his eyes a few times in shock as he continued to stare at the website in front of him, almost as though he expected the words to change. They didn’t though. They remained the same, taunting him with their true meaning. Choking slightly, he reread them for the twentieth time. The words he was so stumped by were from the latest interview with Ladybug on the Ladyblog. There in bright, bold text was the question he had been dying to know the answer to for years.

Alya: Who is your celebrity crush?

How could she ask her that question so simply? As though the answer hadn’t evaded him every time he asked her. Brushed off with a reminder that of course, she couldn’t tell him. They weren’t allowed to reveal anything about their identities, and didn’t he already know that by now, Chaton.

Perhaps Ladybug had answered because Alya had phrased it as her celebrity crush. Adrien had always been more concerned with figuring out the identity of her current crush. The boy who had stolen her heart so easily when he had spent so long trying to win her affections. Still, he had never expected either answer to be about him. Once again, he read her answer, raking his hand through his hair as his mind raced with more questions.

Ladybug: Well, um... I’m pretty obsessed with fashion. One of the brands I actually look up to, like most Parisians, is Gabriel. So, uh, I guess you could say I might look up to Adrien Agreste a lot.

That was it. That was all he got before Alya finished up the rest of her questions and wrapped up the interview. She looked up to him a lot! What did that mean?! Groaning, Adrien thumped his head down onto his desk, wondering if he was lucky or unlucky that she said his name. On the one hand, she looked up to him! On the other, he was still unsure of just what exactly that meant. Did she like him or not?!

“Why the long face, kid?” His kwami hovered above him, looking down at him with a pair of curious green eyes.

Adrien simply muttered quietly into his desk, his words inaudible to even himself. He wasn’t even certain what he was supposed to say. That Ladybug had said that he was her celebrity crush? That was meant to be a good thing. Instead, he was left with more questions than answers.

Plagg simply chuckled and he lifted his head back up to glare at his kwami. As he looked up at him, Adrien noticed that his eyes were entirely focused on the computer screen, reading the interview. After Plagg had finished, he gestured at the words with confusion, lazily floating away as he said, “I don’t understand why you’re so grumpy about this. Ladybug just said that she likes you. Shouldn’t you be over the moon with joy? I figured you’d be foaming at the mouth once you realized it.”

“What?” Adrien frowned, wondering what Plagg meant by realized before he shook his head to calm his racing thoughts. “Never mind. I’m not foaming at the mouth because I’m not certain that’s what Ladybug said. It says that she looked up to me, not that she has a crush on me.”

“Same difference,” Plagg shot him a weird look before shrugging his shoulders. “She still said your name when Alya asked her who her celebrity crush was, didn’t she? What else could Ladybug mean by that?”

Feeling the beginnings of a smile bloom on his face, he turned back to the computer screen. He reread the words, feeling his heart thump in his chest. Quietly, he murmured, “Y-you think?”

His kwami gagged, rolling his eyes as he crossed his arms. “Why do you humans have to be so cheesy? And not the good kind of cheese.”

Adrien laughed, shaking his head as he looked over at Plagg with amusement. Feeling giddy, he tossed a piece of camembert at him, watching his kwami’s eyes light up as he gobbled down the food. Sighing in amusement, he turned back to the screen, rereading Ladybug’s answer again. This time, though, his heart thumped loudly as he kept his gaze directly on his name.

Ladybug looked up to him. Ladybug thought about him first when she was asked about her celebrity crush. That had to count for something. Maybe... maybe he did still have a shot with her. He may not have been able to woo her as Chat Noir, but perhaps Adrien would work better. Either way, he was determined to ask her about this interview whenever he next saw her. Adrien or Chat Noir... it didn’t matter. He simply had to know what she was thinking about when she answered this question.

With a breathless chuckle, he ran his hand through his hair again, turning to his kwami with another bright smile on his face. “I think you’re right, Plagg.”

“Right about what?” he asked, still focused on the cheese he was currently devouring.

Adrien rolled his eyes fondly, gesturing back at the screen. “Right about Ladybug. I mean, she must feel something for me if she said my name for her celebrity crush. I’m sure that this means something too and I’m planning on asking her about it whenever I see her tomorrow.”

“Great, kid,” Plagg waved a distracted hand in the air. “You do that.”

“And,” he added, wiggling his eyebrows at his kwami. “If everything works out, I’ll probably give you some cheese.”

Plagg snapped his head up, staring at him with wide eyes. “Huh?! Did you just say cheese?!”

Adrien simply laughed, shaking his head at his kwami before slipping into his bed. Shutting his eyes tight, he attempted to sleep even as a hoard of butterflies danced in his chest. How was he meant to sleep when he might know the truth tomorrow? Visions of Ladybug danced in his head as his giddiness grew and grew. Soon, he reminded himself. Soon he’d know the answer. And perhaps, if Ladybug really did have that celebrity crush on him... maybe they’d be able to see each other more. Rather quickly after that thought, Adrien fell asleep, dreams of holding his lady’s hand and kissing her flooding his mind.

#miraculous ladybug #ladrienjune2021 #ladrienjune #ladrien #miraculous #ml #mlb #fic #fanfic #ladrien fic

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novantinuum · 4 years

Text

Tides of Renewal (SU one-shot)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T (Mild TW for vague allusions to past suicidal thoughts.)

Words: 2500~

Summary: Now twenty years old and living on the other side of the country, Steven spends his morning relaxing on the beach, musing about his past, and having a chat with his dad.

Hi folks! This is actually my two-months-late “Happy Birthday, Steven” fic, ahah- amusingly, posted two months late to the day. I’m quite happy with how this short turned out.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3 as well. AO3 link will be provided in the reblogs. Thank you! <3

____

Tides of Renewal

Steven rises alongside the sun, but not by choice.

As he abruptly stirs, jerking onto his side under his tangled blanket, he soon realizes that he has little lingering memory of the nightmare that shook him from his slumber. Nevertheless, his heart pounds so hard it feels like it’s hanging in his throat. There’s feelings, faint impressions— someone’s blood (his, or hers?), Connie’s screams, a bubble of terror boiling from within— but that’s all he’s left with. The young man clutches at his sheets, struggling to catch his breath as is the norm most mornings. Dim light sneaks in between the edges of the curtains, offering a rough estimate of the time.

Once it’s clear his chances of sleeping in have become null and void, he entices himself out of bed with the promise of buying himself a muffin at the local coffee shop later today, a birthday treat. His routine is sluggish, but precise. He uses the bathroom, throws on his swim trunks and a thin cotton shirt, downs the pills he forgot to take last night with a quick swig of water, carefully runs his fingers through his long curls to work out the tangles, and slips his feet into the flip flops he always leaves lying right at the foot of his bed.

The young adult only takes his guitar, phone, and keys with him as he walks the mile distance from his humble studio apartment to the public beach. Around him, the world is at peace. The only sound intermingling with the gentle ebb and flow of the Pacific at this hour of the morning is the chattering of puffins that nest on the large rock outcroppings in the tide pools nearby. The edge of his lip quirks up when he finally crosses that sacred boundary— the sidewalk meeting the shore— and removes his sandals, reveling in the satisfying, grainy texture of sand squishing between his toes. Hah... the beach. Funny, that. All his traveling these past years, from mountains, to prairies, to sprawling suburbs to wooded forest towns, and it only succeeded in deepening his childhood love for the familiarity of saltwater air and tourist-filled boardwalks. Still, the secluded, rustic charm of Haystack Cove is a far cry from the Beach City he grew up in. Different people, different sights, different types of seafood sold at the markets. This place feels like a home all his own, appropriately distant from the Gem influenced settlement he’d left behind.

He crosses the fine grained sands towards his favorite sitting spot, a hefty stone jutting out from the ground, its surface buffed to a glossy finish over the years by the high tides. The water’s still distant this early in the morning, glimmers of sunlight sparkling off of the foam and spray. Yawning, he plops himself down on the stone and lifts his guitar into his lap. He strums a few random chords as a warm-up before settling into an experimental melodic sequence.

As he plays, the early morning breeze teases at the ends of his shoulder-length hair, untied and let free in all its curly splendor. It’s still quite chilly, but with the sun peaking over the horizon behind him and not a cloud in sight, the air’s bound to heat up in no time. Steven inhales deeply, soaking in the salt and light and pushing away the shadows lurking at the periphery of his mind, that twitching, exhausting anxiety that never quite seems to leave him alone these days. Unfortunately, functional does not mean carefree. While far fewer in number then when he was a teen, he still runs into plenty of moments where he’s struck blind by particularly painful reminders of his past, his gem snapping into overdrive in an instant. He’s a bit better at coping in these moments now, and walking himself down from panic attacks, but deep-rooted traumas don’t simply melt away. With that in mind, at this point he suspects he’ll likely have to deal with a mixture of therapy and meds for the rest of his life. That’s fine, though. If that’s what it takes to be at peace. He’s thankfully reached a point in his recovery where he’s more than willing to work for it.

Startling him out of his roaming thoughts, his phone chimes to life, touting the same cheery ring tone he had as a kid. He gently sets his guitar down in the sand and fishes his cell phone out of his pocket, a silent bet as to who’s calling rising within his mind. Sure enough, his dad’s contact photo proudly greets him. Hah— he called it. Steven stifles a giggle as he hits accept and lifts the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Dad!”

“Hey, Schtu-ball!” his father chimes from the other side of the country, three hours ahead. He hears a faint shuffle over the line, and then the beginnings of guitar accompaniment as the man begins to sing:

“Happy birthday to you~!”

Dad ends the line with a resounding vibrato, and a few extra jazzy chords for good measure.

“Heh heh, thanks,” he says, bashfully blushing at the attention, and gazing across the loose sands as if ensuring the secret of his birth hasn’t swelled into a nauseatingly public affair like half of his birthdays had since the start of Era 3. “Gotta say, the impromptu guitar solo pushed that to a whole new level. You just get up?”

“Yep! Bright and early. Garnet said you’d probably be awake by now, so I figured I’d call and give ya’ a good greeting to start the day. Lemme guess, you’re down there at the beach already? I think I heard waves.”

Steven’s glance lifts to admire the slowly rising tides, and the promise of each tomorrow that lies beyond. “Hah, you know me,” he says softly, taking a deep lungful of that precious salt-touched air he’s always adored. “I live for the water. Might force myself to go for a swim later before all of you come. Not sure yet,” he says, shrugging as he turns and squints in the wake of the steadily rising sun. “But my therapist said I should probably keep as active as po—“

“It’s your birthday. You do whatever makes you happy, bud,” his dad promptly reminds him, slight concern sticking to his voice. And yes, it’s practically a father’s job to worry, but his chest tightens with lingering guilt for pressing that upon him anyways. Ugh, this is because he said ‘force myself,’ isn’t it?

“Doing my best to,” he lamely offers, hoping it’ll at least end that segment of conversation. He twirls a stray strand of hair around his finger as he scours his memory for something new to offer. Thankfully, his mind quickly lands on the exciting email he received last night. He grins, knowing for sure his dad’ll love this. “Oh, uh- topic change, but I got that last job I applied for, by the way.”

“Oh? The taffy shop one?”

“Yeah! I start on Tuesday.”

“Wow, that’s- that’s awesome! They responded fast, then.”

“Yup,” Steven nods, popping the ‘p.’ “Honestly, it’s nothing much, just stocking and working the register, but it’ll give me some cash to work with.”

Some cash to finally pay for his own food instead of continuously bumming money off his dad. There’s no way he can handle full month’s rent on his own with this minimum wage job, (who on Earth could in this economy), but it might be enough to cover the smaller things. Groceries, electricity, internet. That sorta stuff. Fidgeting on the edge of the stone outcropping, his bare toes dig narrow lines in the sand. He hasn’t really had this discussion with Dad yet, but the mere concept of being wholly reliant on other people steers his mind uncomfortably close to the I’m a Burden Zone. He’d far prefer to feel like he has a stake in the game.

“I know you said you don’t mind supporting me,” he continues in a hesitant tone, twirling his finger through one of his curls, “but I still feel kinda bad—“

“Don’t. I’d rather you not have to stress yourself to the bone about money like I did when I was your age.”

The line shakes for a second. He’s pretty sure he hears the faint clink of a bowl meeting the counter from his dad’s side.

“Dad...?”

“Sorry, bud. Just putting ya’ on speaker. Figured I’d make myself some instant oatmeal,” he says, his voice sounding a bit further away from the microphone. “Goodness, though. Twenty years. That still boggles the mind.”

He gives a soft laugh. “You’re telling me. Could’ve sworn I was twelve just yesterday. And to be honest, it’s... it’s kinda weird sometimes, you know?”

“What is?”

“Being another year older. ‘Cause... well, uh...”

Steven grits his teeth, searching for the most delicate manner in which he can discuss these emotions. The feelings of his past are a really hard topic to dwell on sometimes, even in therapy, and even though he and his dad have long since had scattered discussions about what a poor mental state he was in then, he doesn’t wanna upset him too much.

“There were definitely days I assumed I wouldn’t have a future, or didn’t want one to begin with,” he continues, throat thick. “Back during all the conflict, before Homeworld reformed. And even after that, when I was... you know. And things are better, now, they’re definitely a lot better. But the idea of a ‘future’... even if I’ve got a job, a home, a girlfriend... it’s still weird to think about, I guess.“

There’s a brief silence on the line as this vulnerable admission sinks in.

“Yeah,” Dad replies eventually, clear sorrow in his voice despite how careful he thought he was in phrasing these matters. “I hear ya’.”

With a quick nervous laugh, he scratches at the nape of his neck, fingertips brushing against the thin, wispy strands of hair growing back there. “Geeze, sorry for bringing the mood down so quick. Didn’t even know I had all that on my mind until it spilled right out.”

“No, no! No need for apologies, I’m always here to listen. And in any case, I’m glad you’re in a better place now.”

Steven nods his head to himself in full agreement (momentarily forgetting that his dad isn’t actually here in the flesh to see this response). Sixteen and seventeen really, really weren’t good years for him. And even though he’s put lot of work into himself since then, he can’t help but constantly fear the possibility of relapse. His therapist told him a few sessions ago when he expressed this worry that... relapses into old thinking patterns can be common for people living with C-PSTD, and that it’s important for him to be cognizant of any unusual changes in his patterns and routines so he can quickly intervene with his box of healthy coping tactics, but... geeze. The dark, traumatic destinations his wandering thoughts end up stagnating in when the concept of relapse brushes his mind aren’t fun to acknowledge. It makes him yearn with deafening hunger for a simple switch he could flip, some magic cure-all for his brain that would stop him from having to deal with any of this awful shit in the first place— but of course, cruel universe this can be at times, those don’t exist.

“Speaking of that,” Dad speaks up again after clearing his throat, “how are those new meds treating you? You said last call your doctor was gonna change them, yes?”

“Nah, not change. There’s no need to change types,” he shrugs. “It’s just a dosage shift. And it’s fine, I think. I’ve been on ‘em for a few days, and there’s no problems so far. Brain's been treating me a little better.”

Nightmares aren’t quite as bad.

His energy isn’t totally zapped by noon.

The whirling, panicked trajectory of his thought patterns is a little easier to wrest control of.

All in all, nothing’s perfect, but he certainly feels a good deal more stable than before. Now, if only he can remember to consistently take his meds before he goes to bed like he’s supposed to instead of totally forgetting like he did last night and having to scarf it down when he sees that forsaken capsule in his pill box the next morning. Tsk, tsk.

“That’s real good to hear,” his dad responds to his news.

He flexes his knuckles against his lap, gaze reflexively drifting back towards the welcomed distraction of the tides. “Yeah.”

“Anyways, I, uh...”

“So, party logistics,” he cuts in with an overly cheery tone, changing the topic from his boring mental health crap entirely. “We should probably hash this out now. I know Connie’s planning on dropping around about noon. What’s your guys’ plan? She can probably send Lion to you after she gets here, if you want.”

“Yeah, that’d be best. Pearl said there weren’t any convenient warps nearby. Well, there’s one- but apparently it empties out into an active lava tube. And that’s not exactly Dad-friendly.”

“Aww, you mean you’re not filled with the intense desire to dip your hand into molten lava and shlorp it up like it’s soup?” Steven retorts, only barely holding back his laughter as he thinks of this absurd text thread he had going with Connie a few weeks back, wherein she sent him a video of some volcanic flows and told him, verbatim, that 'despite all logic and reason sometimes I can’t help but look at super viscous lava and think... forbidden s o u p, mmmm.’

“Not particularly, no,” his dad says, sounding thoroughly confused. “I’m- why are you laughing? Is this some sort of weird internet thing I’m not familiar with again?”

He wipes tears from his eyes as he tries to catch his breath. “You, ah- you kinda had to be there, sorry. Anyways, yeah. I’ll have Connie send Lion. I’ll text you right before, how’s that?”

“Sounds great! Can’t wait to see ya’, bud. I’m gonna let you go, now, okay? I can talk your ears off later. Go enjoy your morning. Love you.”

“Love you too, Dad,” he says, grinning. “Bye.”

“Buh-bye.”

Once his dad hangs up he sets his phone beside him on the rock and takes a deep, steady breath, trying to capture the full nuance of each diverse scent in the air. He may just be imagining it, but he swears he’s able to pick out the faint scent of taffy intermingling with the ocean saltiness and the hint of cedar from the nearby state forest. In the end though, whether it’s real or not it’s a welcomed reminder of all the possibility the future holds for him.

He’s twenty now. It’s a brand new decade of life. He’s got a new job lined up, a stable and loving relationship, a supportive family, and plenty of courage in facing the shadows of his past. Sure, so maybe he’ll never know with certainty what will happen— maybe he’ll relapse a little, maybe he’ll still have some bad days sprinkled amongst the good ones— but as he watches the tides flow in to greet him, he smiles... and resolves to just take this year as a renewal of his vow to care for himself as best he can.

#su #su future #steven universe #greg universe #su fanfiction #my writing stuff

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vintagedolan · 4 years

Text

mixtape | track three

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist |

Indiana was sure she’d never had a longer Monday in her life, and Tuesday wasn’t looking any better. Her lecture droned on and she did everything she could to stay engaged, from downing the rest of her water bottle to doodling on the side of her notes.

Just as her professor started to move into the brachial plexus, she saw a small message notification appear in the top right corner of her laptop screen. A text, from Grayson.

Wyd? :)

It took all her power not to scoff in the middle of the room. The fact that he’d actually sent her a ‘wyd’ was almost too much.

learning, what’s it to yah

She scrolled to catch up with her professor, trying to keep up.

I’m bored

You want a vanilla oatmilk latte later, right?

Or did I not remember that right

Triple texter, of course. She typed out a quick shhh, unless you can teach me about the brachial plexus I gotta pay attention. I’ll text you when I’m out and turned back to her notes, scribbling out the diagram that her professor was drawing on the board.

But she still smiled when she got a p sure you just made that up but okay :) from him.

Lecture sped up after that, her professor moving much too quickly through the nerves and innervations of muscles within the plexus that she could barely wrap her head around. She was going to have to review all of it again to even begin to fully understand. At least it wasn’t chemistry like it had been last semester - anatomy she could handle because at least it was interesting. Before she knew it she was closing her notebook and laptop, throwing them in her bag and heading out the door in a bid to get to the hospital faster.

Little did she know, Grayson was waiting in line at Jet’s already, having come to the city much earlier than he needed to, toe of his Air Force One tapping on the tile as his nerves ran wild. He caught his reflection in one of the windows and paused to double check himself, just like he had that afternoon in his mom’s hallway, looking in the mirror that was hanging on the wall. Ethan had caught him in the act, and he knew it wouldn’t slip past him.

“Alright, spill. You’re being sus.” Ethan’s words were garbled by the PB&J in his mouth, but it still made Grayson panic a bit.

“Am not.”

“Cut the shit Gray, you only wear belts when you’re trying to impress somebody and I highly doubt you’re trying to woo over the kids. What’s her name?”

“I hate you.”

“Interesting name.” That earned him a middle finger.

“Indiana.”

“Actual interesting name. She cute?”

“Very. And smart. And funny too. Good with kids.”

“And tick tick tick go the soulmate boxes. You gonna try to make a move?”

“We’ve talked one time bro. That’d be bold.”

“Yeah, and you’re you.You fall in love when somebody blinks at you right. Case made. Let me know when the wedding is.”

Grayson didn’t have a comeback for that, so he just huffed a bit and let out a “fuck off” before he turned to head for city an hour before he needed to.

“Next… Next.”

He pulled his head up, realizing the line had disappeared in front of him. He moved up to the counter, hoping he’d remembered her order right since she’d yet to answer him again.

“Can I do a large dark roast, and a large vanilla oatmilk latte please?”

Down the line, a man with an impressive beard and large gauges perked up as Grayson put his card into the reader.

“Wouldn’t happen to be for Indiana Cross would it?”

He wasn’t sure what the right answer was, so he just went with the truth. “Yeah, actually it is.”

Based on the way that the man squinted his eyes at him, Grayson realized it was apparently very much the wrong answer.

“And you are?” He asked.

“Grayson.”

“Grayson.” He repeated, obviously waiting for an elaboration.

“I uh… I volunteer with her at the hospital?”

Right answer. The man relaxed, going back to making coffee with a nod. He tried to run through the possibilities while he waited for the drinks. Brother? Probably not. Ex-boyfriend? Possibly.

“She’s a good egg, used to work here before school got to be too much. You’re lucky to have a friend like her,” he said after passing over the drinks.

Protective manager. Not what he expected, but he understood. He had a feeling it wasn’t just him who had gotten attached so quickly.

“Yeah, yeah I am for sure. Thanks, have a great day.”

“You too…” he trailed off, waiting. He didn’t know if he’d forgotten his name already or just didn’t want to admit he remembered it.

“Grayson.”

“Right. I’m Patrick. See you around.”

“Yeah man, see you.”

Grayson headed out the door, balancing one cup on top of the other so he could text her quickly.

You at the hosp yet?

no, I’m not at the ‘hosp’ haha I’m walking there now

You didn’t text me when you got out of class

I’m hurt

boo hoo

Lemme just

Throw this coffee away real quick

hey hey now those are fighting words

oh shit I never texted you about the coffee, but you were right, vanilla oatmilk latte

I’ll give you a pass this time since you were learning about the brachial whatever

You’re lucky im awesome and remembered

wow

the most awesome

love to see it

just wait outside of jets, I’ll be there in a minute

Okay :)

He did as she asked, moving out of the steady stream of people that were on the sidewalk to watch people who passed, waiting for her. Every time he saw a head of blonde hair he perked up, until finally he recognized her moving towards him. She was dressed more casually than on Sunday, with a baggy crewneck on with her jeans and Air Force Ones.

She noticed him a moment after he saw her, so by the time she laid eyes on him he was beaming, putting his phone away and moving towards her.

“A large? You spoil me,” she teased, taking the cup from him gratefully. It was delicious as always, but she was more focused on his outfit – a tight black long sleeve shirt tucked into a pair of nice maroon pants, a large belt buckle resting on his waist.

“We match,” he grinned, pointing a toe out to show off his shoes. It was about the only thing that matched – she felt frumpy next to him in her comfy clothes that she wore to class. Even her Air Forces were dingy compared to his, dull and dirty.

“Uh huh, right. I didn’t know that our first joint Buddies meeting was a fashion show, give a girl some warning next time, will yah?”

“Oh shut up, you look cute.”

Her eyebrows went up as she looked down at herself, then back at him. He threw her back the same look of disbelief.

“Did I stutter?” He asked, practically daring her to argue with him. She just blushed and shook her head, taking a drink of her coffee as they started towards Frazier. They walked shoulder to shoulder and Indiana was grateful – it was fractionally less common in the colder months, but she always got her fair share of cat calls on the streets. After getting to know him, she didn’t find Grayson even slightly intimidating anymore, but she still had the image of him on that bench, broad and serious, and she knew it was no coincidence that everyone fell silent with him beside her.

It was a new feeling, having to hold herself back. She’d never had the urge to wrap her arms around someone walking next to her, reach out and hold onto their arm, even just reach down to hold their hand. It made her giddy and skeptical at the same time as she tried to distract herself, watching the cars drive by, honking at each other.

“Where’d you go?” Grayson hummed, bumping her just barely and pulling her out of her head. Her heart swelled a bit hearing her signature phrase fall so easily from his lips, which seemed much pinker than she’d last remembered as he took a sip of his coffee and waited for her answer. A few moments later he quirked an eyebrow – a very well-manicured eyebrow. Did he get those waxed? She resisted the urge to reach up and smooth down her own that she knew were bushy and definitely not as nice as his.

“Indiana. You good?” He tried again,

“Hmm? Oh yeah, yeah I’m good, sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I was just checkin on you. Do we have a plan for this meeting or do you normally just go with the flow?”

“Depends on the mood she’s in. I’ve got some stuff in my bag – cards, my school stuff cause she likes to help me study sometimes. Other times she just likes to play 20 questions or hang out and talk. You’ll be the new shiny toy, so prepare for a bunch of questions. Especially about your teeth earrings.”

He balked as they got to the doors, following her quick steps into the lobby.

“I’m sorry my what?”

“It’s not everyday someone has diamonds in their teeth sir.”

“Okay but they aren’t teeth earrings, give me some fucking credit.”

“Definitely teeth earrings.”

“Jewels.”

“Teeth. Earrings. Oh my god, I’m gonna introduce you as teeth earring guy.” Her laughter filled the elevator as they stepped in.

“Oh god,” he groaned, letting his head fall back against the side of the little box as it moved up to the second floor. Indiana gave her most mischievous grin when the doors opened, walking quickly through the halls. It took Grayson a minute to realize that she was trying to beat him to Bekah’s room and he sped up his steps, trying to keep it casual as he passed rooms of kids and families, walking as fast as he could without full on running down the hall. They didn’t see the nurses laughing at their antics, but they didn’t care. Indiana side stepped into Bekah’s room abruptly, so fast that Grayson almost knocked her over trying to stop behind her.

Bekah was up walking around in a hoodie and leggings, and when she turned she immediately pointed over Indiana’s shoulder.

“Teeth earring guy!”

They couldn’t help it – they both busted out laughing, Indiana grabbing onto his shoulder to keep herself from falling over. When they finally got it together he spoke up first.

“My name is actually Grayson, but you can call me teeth earring guy if you wanna.”

“I’m Bekah Newcomb. Mandatory intro spiel, I’m 15, stage 3 leukemia. My parents aren’t pieces of shit, they just work a lot so they’re never here. No siblings because why mess with perfection. Any questions?”

Indiana bit her tongue – she had forgotten about the spiel, forgotten that it was Bekah’s favorite way to test new people, make them uncomfortable. Her eyes flickered over to Grayson, but he had the biggest smile on his face.

“Only one, but it’s very important. You ready?”

“Hit me with it,” she said, anxiously waiting.

“Is cereal a soup?”

Indiana couldn’t have planned a better intro for the two of them – they bonded so quickly right there before her eyes, debating the constituting factors of soup, and it had her melting to see him interacting so easily with the girl who meant so much to her. Bekah didn’t even attempt to put up her usual front, just laughed and joked with him as if she’d known him for years. The hours flew by, games of war and BS passing the time as Bekah sat at the top of her bed and Indiana and Grayson sat at the end of it, knees touching as they resisted the urge to peek at each-others cards.

The only hiccup came when Bekah got her meds at 7, but she put on her best show for Grayson, managing to keep her stomach settled enough to avoid puking. It was the most fun visit either of them had had in a while, and Bekah fought her drowsiness until visiting hours were over at 8. Indiana had to be the voice of reason, starting the goodbyes before the nurses came to kick them out.

“Are you both coming back on Thursday?” Bekah called out as they headed for the door.

“Hell yeah we are. Want us to bring anything?” Grayson grinned.

Indiana liked the sound of us.

“Cereal, so we can test our theories.”

“You got it. See yah Thursday Beks.”

“See yah Thursday, Earrings.”

His laugh was so loud that the nurses at the desk peeked their heads around to see what was happening – but they were smiling up at the two of them as they signed out and started down the hallway they’d come up.

As soon as they cleared the ocean hallway, Grayson turned to her.

“Was that okay? Like was that good?” There was genuine concern in his voice, and Indiana had to bite back a laugh.

“Are you seriously asking?”

“Yeah, ‘course I am.”

“Grayson she loved it. She loved you. I haven’t seen her smile that big since she’s come in for this round of treatment. Were you worried about that?” She didn’t stop herself from reaching out and holding onto his shoulder, squeezing lightly as they stopped walking.

“A little,” he admitted, relaxing under her touch.

“You’re a natural, I told you that. I promise you did great, I wouldn’t bullshit you.”

He stopped walking for a minute, and there was an intensity in his gaze that had her stomach fluttering.

She didn’t know what she expected, but it definitely wasn’t for him to say “Can I take you to dinner?”

“Now?” Stupid answer.

“Well, it is dinner time. But if you aren’t hungry I could wait a while. Or if you don’t want to go, that’s totally okay, I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything just cause we’re doing this together and we share a buddy and-”

“I want to go to dinner,” she cut him off, and he could see the hesitation on her face.

“I sense a but coming…”

“But -”

His heart sank a bit - he’d fallen into the trap he always managed to get himself into, falling too quickly, making his move too fast. But it was natural to be next to her, to talk to her, to have her hand stay on his shoulder. He liked the feeling of her there, the sound of her laughter and the brightness of her smile, and he couldn’t quite hold himself back it seemed. It made the rejection he knew he was about to get hurt even worse.

“But, I have to study tonight,” she sighed, and there was a genuineness to it that had him breathing a bit easier. She actually seemed disappointed, and the hope he felt rose up again.

“Oh yeah, the biceps whatever thing, that shit sounded complicated.”

“The brachial plexus, but A for effort,” she teased. “No but seriously, I gotta get that shit down or I’m gonna forget everything she said about it today. But I really do wanna go to dinner, I’m not blowing you off.” She rushed through her reassurances, dropping her arm and starting to walk again, towards the stairs this time.

“I believe you. How about Thursday, after we hang with Beks?”

“Yeah, I can do Thursday!”

“Gang.” Fuck. He’d been doing pretty well at hiding all the slang he’d picked up in LA.

“Did you… what?”

“Nothing, pretend you didn’t hear that. Thursday sounds great. Oh, before I forget, can you bring some non-dairy milk with you when you come?”

She paused for a minute, looking up at him from a few stairs below like he’d grown another head.

“You want me to bring milk… non-dairy milk… to dinner.”

“No! No no, for the cereal! I just have a long drive and I don’t want it to get all gross and hot on the way, and since you walked I figure you live close by. I can venmo you for it.”

“Oh! Yeah, I can bring some, you don’t have to venmo me for it, no biggie.”

“Okay cool. Yeah, I definitely wouldn’t ask you to bring milk on a da- to dinner. Bring it to dinner. That would be… weird.” His cheeks burned hotter than he realized they could. The fact that he’d almost slipped and said date had embarrassment and panic coursing through every inch of his body, and he could already hear the way Ethan was going to laugh when he told him the story later.

Of course Indiana heard it, but the way he was blushing to his ears had her pretending she didn’t.

“Thursday it is then,” she grinned, opening the door of the stairwell and holding it until Grayson passed through. The massive windows of the lobby were painted indigo, washed out a bit by the city lights but dark nonetheless.

“Damn it’s dark,” he muttered. Even though it was beginning to get dark earlier now with autumn on the horizon, it was still much dimmer than he was used to.

“It’s supposed to storm the rest of the week, probably just the clouds,” she shrugged. She looked small for the first time to him, headed towards the doors.

“Can I drive you home? It’s really dark out.” The words came out before he could think them over - that seemed to be the effect she had on him.

“Oh, it’s okay! I only live like three blocks from here, by the time you get your car I’ll probably be home,” she reassured him with a smile.

“Can I walk you then? I don’t like the idea of you walking out there in the dark by yourself.”

She paused at the door, and he half expected her to turn and remind him that she was very much capable of walking herself. But she surprised him, as she always seemed to do.

“Yeah, yeah that would be really nice actually. If you don’t care.”

“No, I’d love to. You ready?”

She nodded and pushed the doors open, hair blowing back in the wind as she walked outside. The temperature had dropped significantly, the true sign of a storm coming through just as she’d suggested.

He took his spot beside her, shortening his strides so he didn’t stray too far from her, standing tall and broad. Indiana felt small next to him, but in a good way for once. It was even more comforting than earlier, and she took slower steps than she usually did, trying to draw it out as long as possible. She tried to convince herself it was because she wanted to procrastinate studying, didn’t want to have to tackle her notes, but in reality she knew it was because she didn’t want the night to end.

It was a comfortable kind of quiet, the bustle of the city streets creating the perfect background noise as they weaved down the sidewalks. Indiana felt like if anyone looked at them they’d be able to see the little bubble of nervous energy surrounding the two of them - it had her feeling like she was back in middle school, giddy because the cute boy looked at her for two seconds.

Much too quickly, her apartment building appeared, tall and imposing in the dark.

“This is me.”

“Damn, that really was a short walk.”

For once, she wished it had been longer.

“Thanks again for walking me.”

“Yeah, yeah no problem, anytime. Um… have a good night.” He could hear the awkwardness in his tone, felt like it was palpable in the city air.

“Goodnight Grayson. Drive safe.”

“Goodnight Indiana. Sleep safe.”

That earned him his new favorite smile, but only for a moment before she disappeared into the lobby.

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

“Bro, will you fucking focus?”

There were few things that annoyed Grayson more than his brother taking too long to finish his reps on the equipment, but that day he’d become his own pet peeve. In his head, distracted, constantly checking his phone - and Ethan was beyond annoyed.

“Alright, out with it. The fuck is goin on in there?” Ethan smacked Grayson’s head lightly, concern starting to overpower the annoyance.

“It’s nothing, let’s just finish this shit before it rains again,” he huffed, moving to the single pull up bar that he’d built last year and starting his reps. The sky was a dreary gray, the cold of autumn starting to come in and clinging to everything it touched.

It wasn’t nothing. Actually, it was much much more than that, and Ethan knew it too, but he didn’t pry. Yet. He did his best to keep his brother focused for the rest of their Wednesday work out, encouraging him to get more reps, to push a bit harder. It didn’t seem to clear his head at all, and Ethan held his tongue for a few more hours, waited until they were both showered, in fresh clothes and in the kitchen making lunch for him to finally ask again.

“Is it the girl? Indiana?”

Grayson didn’t answer, but the look that he threw Ethan from his spot in front of the stove told him enough.

“What’d she say? Lemme see.”

He passed his phone over, moving back to stir soup he was making as Ethan read the message. Grayson remembered exactly what it said, even if his twin didn’t mumble it out as he read.

“Hey, about dinner tomorrow. Turns out my sister and brother in law are moving out of my place (finally) because Charlie got a new photography deal and I promised I would help them move :( but we could do dinner on Saturday night if that works for you still? If not it’s okay. What’s wrong with that?” Ethan asked.

“She doesn’t wanna have dinner,” Grayson muttered, watching the soup spin in the pot as he stirred.

“That is so not what that means. Is this seriously what you’ve been pouting about all morning?” Ethan had to bite back his laugh. He hadn’t seen his brother this in his head about something in a while, and he didn’t want to make him feel stupid for being worried. “If she didn’t want to have dinner, she wouldn’t have asked about Saturday.”

“How do you know? You haven’t even met her.”

“Cause I’ve had a girlfriend for two years. You just learn what they mean in their texts even if they don’t say it.”

The last thing Grayson needed in that moment was a reminder that his brother was in a very loving relationship, but he let it slide. Eden had come into their lives a few years back, a fireball of take-no-shit and feminine power unlike either of them had ever seen. It was a learning curve, and Ethan was determined to ace the test. Grayson was glad that he had - she’d become a sister to him, and she brought fun and laughter to their life out in California.

“Call Eden, see what she thinks,” Grayson said, scooping soup out into bowls for the two of them. Ethan did as he asked, pulling up facetime and letting it ring through until she appeared on the screen, wide smile bright against her tanned skin, California sun bright in the background.

“Hey baby! What’s up?”

“Grayson’s having girl problems.”

“Oooo I love girl problems, hand him over,” she teased, still beaming when Ethan passed over his phone.

“Alright hit me with it, what’s the tea?”

Grayson tried to give her the short version of how he and Indiana had met, but he found himself elaborating with each detail that he remembered, from every word of the text down to the way she said goodbye the last time he’d seen her, only the night before. It felt like longer than that.

Eden was quiet for a moment after he finally finished the story, but by her coy smile he knew she was just trying to figure out how to word everything correctly.

“Okay, so first off, just to clear things up, she’s not blowing you off.”

He wanted to believe her, desperately, but the doubt must have still been obvious on his face, because she rolled her eyes before she launched into her explanation.

“She texted you today instead of tomorrow, which probably means as soon as she found out she told you. That’s a good sign. She’s nervous too, that’s why she said ‘if not it’s okay’, cause she’s trying to give you an out if you want it.”

He very much didn’t want an out. He actually wanted an in.

“The fact that she reached out at all shows that she cares, and she’s trying to set up another time which definitely means she’s interested. Most girls would just wait to see if you would set up another one, that’s what I would have done. Tested to see if you were invested. But if she’s willing to do it, that means she must be pretty sure of you. Or totally oblivious to the fact that you like her. Either way, you’re in good shape.”

“Who said I like her?” He muttered, getting a barking laugh out of both members of his audience.

He let them fall into conversation without him, the quick catch up of their day that they’d been doing lately since they were on opposite sides of the country. It was hard for Ethan, but he managed it well, with plenty of sappy texts and nightly facetimes that would have Grayson gagging but secretly wishing he had someone to talk to like that.

He wondered what Indiana was like on facetime while he ate his soup. He wondered what her favorite color was, why she took oatmilk in her coffee instead of regular, what her class schedule was. Wondered what time she woke up on the mornings when she could sleep in, what she’d want to do on a real date, what her room looked like. He never realized how much mental space he had for someone other than himself or Ethan, and he found himself obsessing the smallest things, trying to ignore the butterflies it brought to his stomach.

Ethan didn’t help once he finished his call and started devouring his luke-warm bowl of veggie soup.

“Bro you’re in deep, I can tell. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get this attached this quick before.”

“There’s just something about her dude. It’s scaring me a little honestly. I’ve never felt like this about anybody, and I’ve literally only seen her twice. I mean, I barely even know her, but I can’t stop thinking about her. Is that weird?”

Ethan thought of about twenty comebacks that he could have used, but he bit them back. He could feel his twin’s anxiety, and he wasn’t about to add to it.

“Nah man. It’s not weird. It’s intense, but it’s not weird. And hey, if she ends up being the one someday it’ll make a cute story. You hear all sorts of people say they fell in love the first time they saw their person, who says that couldn’t be you, yah know? But hey, I gotta meet her before you go proposing or some shit.” He bumped his shoulder with a smile, turning back to his bowl of soup so Grayson didn’t feel like he had to respond right away.

He thought on it for a minute, trying to process everything his brother had just laid out on the table. And then he pulled his phone out, clicked on his new favorite thread to check, and typed out his reply.

Saturday date it is

See you tomorrow :)

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

Indiana Cross was never late. In fact, she was usually a minimum 10 of minutes early. But one too many outfits changes had slowed her down and she was cutting it too close for comfort - so close that when she looked out and saw the rain had started up again, she contemplated just running out into it and getting drenched instead of trying to make it back upstairs to get her umbrella.

She peered out into the street through the lobby doors, trying to decide if the drops would be enough to ruin her outfit, when something caught her eye.

A hand, waving quite cutely at her through the glass.

Grayson was outside, massive black umbrella over his head and a wide smile on his face as he walked up to the doors, waiting for her. He hadn’t said anything about coming to pick her up, but her heart fluttered at the sight of him anyways - she’d seen him just a few days ago, on Thursday, where they’d sat on Bekah’s bed again and ate cereal and laughed and joked. But it felt like it had been forever, and with the added stress of moving Charlie and Devin out, and the hard goodbye that she didn’t want to admit was hard, she hadn’t really relaxed since she’d last seen him.

He made sure there wasn’t a gap between the awning and his umbrella so she could duck under it without getting wet. As soon as she was under she made her move, if you could even call it that, and wrapped her hands around his bicep, trying not to gawk at how big it was. Instead, she looked up at him and scrunched her nose.

“Hi.”

“Hi there,” he beamed, and she could see the excitement in every single one of his features. “Figured I could walk you. You ready?”

She nodded, holding on to him as they started to walk down the sidewalks. His slow Jersey pace mixed with her short legs and quick New Yorker steps kept them perfectly in sync as they dodged puddles and soaked up the feeling of being together again.

The conversation flowed as easily as ever, Grayson asking her how moving Charlie out went, if she was sad to have her sister so far away. They talked about Cameron going to school in South Carolina, and how he and Ethan couldn’t spend more than a week apart without going crazy. She talked about school, the assignments she had lined up for the week, the exam she had already started studying for even though it was next Friday. Every time they got to a puddle that was too big for both of them to walk around he guided her to the dry part, walking lightly through the water so he didn’t splash her.

They got to the hospital much too quickly, and she let go of his arm reluctantly so he could pull the umbrella down and shake off the excess water before they made it in. Grayson led the way up the stairs and onto the unit, waving at the kids he saw, giving Andre a high five as he passed and asking the nurses how their shift was going. Indiana couldn’t help but notice the way the younger nurses - actually, all the nurses, seemed to be watching his every move, blushing and smiling at him as he passed.

She fought the urge to reach out and hold his hand, walking just a bit closer to him so their arms brushed against each other as they moved. It sent electricity through every nerve ending on her body, and she got so caught up in it that she almost forgot to stop him before they made it to Bekah’s room.

“Hey, one thing. I know we’re going on a date later, but let’s not have any… like us stuff, while we’re here. I don’t want Bekah to feel like a third wheel or anything, cause we’re here for her. Deal?”

“Deal.” There was a prideful look in his eyes that she couldn’t quite place, but she didn’t have time to analyze it before she stepped into the room.

Bekah was in her bed, curled up under the blankets on her side. Her head was wrapped in a light blue scarf - something her mom had brought her a few days prior, sweatshirts pulled down over her hands as she shivered.

Grayson’s face fell immediately, and he froze at his spot by the curtain. She looked sick, actually sick, for the first time, and it brought on a wave of memories and emotion that he wasn’t quite prepared for.

Indiana didn’t blink.

“Hey you. How are you feeling?” Her tone was soft, soothing as she moved to her bedside and laid a hand on Bekah’s shoulder, starting to rub against her cold skin.

“S’ cold,” Bekah mumbled, burrowing down further, so far that Indiana could only see her brown eyes and the dark skin of her forehead.

“Want me to go see if I can get you another blanket?”

She nodded weakly, resting her head back on the pillow as Indiana stood up and moved over to Grayson.

“You okay in here by yourself for a minute?”

Grayson nodded, half to answer and half to convince himself. She gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before she disappeared out the door. He stood there in silence for a moment, hands shoved in his pockets, unsure of what to do.

Bekah peaked her head out just enough for her mouth to be visible before she spoke.

“I’m not contagious, Earrings, you can come over here.”

The tension in his shoulders released and he walked over, sitting down as gently as he could on the edge of the bed.

“You’re weird,” Bekah said, eyes still closed. He panicked a bit, trying to keep his voice calm.

“Yeah? Why am I weird.”

“You don’t like being around sick people, but you’re volunteering at a kids hospital. Weird.”

“I don’t think anyone likes seeing people sick,” he murmured, trying to word everything very carefully.

“Indiana likes being around sick people because she likes to help. I think you like to help too but it makes you uncomfortable.”

There was no malice in her tone, but it still made him let out a dry laugh.

“You’re an observant one, aren’t you.”

“Not much else for me to do in here but watch people. But seriously, why’d you sign up to make yourself uncomfortable? Did someone tell you to?”

“Yeah, kinda. Someone told me if I could help that I should.”

“Your mom?”

“My dad actually,” he corrected quietly, toying with his fingers. Anytime he said his name out loud, no matter the form it took - dad, father, Sean - it was like he could feel it in his heart, a little tug on the original wound, a finger picking at a scab that wasn’t quite formed yet.

“I’ll have to thank him for that some time. I like having you around, no matter how awkward you are.”

“Well thanks Beks.”

He was saved from his devolving thoughts by a very excited Indiana coming back into the room with not one, but three blankets stacked in her arms.

“I declare it movie night,” she said, passing both of them their own blanket and rummaging for a remote, pulling up Emperor's New Groove before settling down into a chair on the other side of the bed. Grayson pulled one up so he could sit back, and without the distraction of conversation Bekah was out within the first 15 minutes, breaths deep despite the winces that she couldn’t hide. Indiana just ran a comforting hand over her arm until she lulled down further, tired muscles finally relaxing.

“She’s gonna be out the rest of the night, we might as well let her rest. You ready to go?” She asked after another twenty minutes, a bit of excitement returning to her eyes.

He nodded, moving to fix Bekah’s blanket over top of her one last time before he clicked the TV off and left her to sleep.

As soon as they signed out, he couldn’t hold back his questions.

“Is she getting worse? It seems like she’s getting worse.”

“Not necessarily. Chemo is weird like that sometimes, sometimes she’ll have good days with her meds, sometimes she’ll have bad ones. It’s just her body trying to fight for and against her at the same time. Exhausting, I would imagine. But she’s okay.”

“She doesn’t seem okay,” he said, looking back down the hallway before they went through the first set of doors.

“Hey.” He turned back to her, noted for a moment that her eyes were the same color as the painted jellyfish on the wall behind her. It grounded him somehow. “Don’t carry all this out here with you, it’ll wear you down. She’s in good hands, she’s sleeping, she’s safe. They’re doing everything they can for her, you’ve gotta trust in that.”

He knew that sometimes it didn’t matter how much they did, but he kept that to himself.

“You want me to compartmentalize.”

“A little bit, yes. It’s the only way you can survive something like this, trust me.”

He did. And he knew she was right. So he closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, let himself let go for a moment and breathe a bit easier. Without a hesitation, he reached a hand out for hers as soon as he opened his eyes, linking his fingers with hers.

“Okay. Let’s go on a date then.”

“Let’s go on a date,” she repeated, squeezing her tiny hand against his as they started down the hallway again.

He’d hatched a whole plan, ran the whole thing by both Ethan and Eden. They were going to get dinner at a little vegan food truck that he had made sure would be close by, walk the High Line for the last hour that it was open, and finish off with a late night coffee from Jets.

“Do I get to know the details of this date?” She asked while he opened the umbrella up outside and offered him her arm, almost as if she knew he was running through the itinerary in his head for the entire walk.

“Nope, you’re just along for the ride.” He grinned, trying to keep his confidence up as he started walking down the sidewalk.

For the first block, everything was fine. The rain picked up slightly, but nothing too bad, and it only made her hold onto him a bit tighter, leaning into him to avoid getting wet. He reveled in the feeling, holding himself back from leaning over and kissing her forehead.

The second block, things got a bit worse. The wind began to howl, thunder booming so loud above them that they both jumped. It seemed to shake the buildings around them a bit, and Grayson bit his lip, scrambling to think of what they would do if it got worse.

By the third block, all hell broke loose. The rain was coming down in sideways sheets, soaking their shoes and pants as Grayson tried to angle the umbrella and keep Indiana dry. It worked for approximately two seconds before the wind inverted the umbrella, leaving them both entirely exposed.

“Sorry, fuck, sorry!” He yelled over the roar of the rain, trying desperately to fix it as their shirts became heavy and wet. Their hair stuck to their foreheads, and when he pushed his back he saw that Indiana was laughing, laughing so hard that she leaned back slightly, clutching her stomach.

“C’mon, c’mon!” She grabbed his hand, dragging him along as they ran through the downpour. He followed her blindly, holding tight to her slippery hand as she weaved them through umbrellas and past people huddled under stoops.

When she pulled him into the lobby of her apartment building they were both laughing, breathless and giddy, so loud that a few people turned to look at them.

They didn’t notice.

“Your teeth are chattering,” Grayson laughed, reaching out to rest a hand on her quivering cheek. He was cold too, but he didn’t care. He hoped the blush he got out of her warmed her up a bit. “Not to invite myself up or anything, but do you care if I get dried off?”

She rolled her eyes at him, just taking his hand and leading him over to the elevator.

Unfortunately, a perfectly dry woman in her 40’s stepped on with them, and all it took was the sound of the water dripping off their clothes onto the tile for them to both break into a fit of giggles, Grayson’s mouth going wide in a silent cackle that had Indiana having to cover her own to keep from being too loud. She felt like a middle schooler getting scolded in the back of class until they made it to her floor, stepping past the woman with a muttered ‘sorry’ and wide smiles. They stared at each other until the doors closed, and then they were laughing again, holding onto each other’s shoulders as they tried to make it down the hallway and breathe at the same time.

Grayson was wiping tears by the time they got to her door, still giggling to himself as he started to shiver, his clothes getting colder by the minute. He took his shoes off outside the door, not wanting to track even more water inside as she opened the door

Her apartment was a bit warmer than the hallway, a welcoming and simple space with a small kitchen to the left and a cozy living room in front of him. Without realizing that he had even done it consciously, he had imagined her in a place just like this, with the big windows on the other side of the room covered in rain.

“Nice place,” he murmured.

“It’s no house, but it’s nice enough,” she teased. “Let me see if Devin left anything here that you can wear, hold on.”

She disappeared into a room on the right and he made his way into the living room, showing himself around. The picture frames on the top shelf caught his eye for a moment, and he smiled at how cute she looked as a baby, how beautiful she looked in her dress with her sister beside her. The woman holding her hands in the last one looked just like her, and he was about to ask when he felt Indiana behind him.

“That’s my mom. Nicole.”

“She seems like a great mom.”

“Yeah, she was.”

Grayson froze. Fuck.

“Shit, Indy, I’m sorry I-”

She put a finger to his lips. “It’s okay. But let’s not talk about it tonight, yeah?”

He nodded, trying to swallow down his guilt. He knew what it felt like to have that sprung on you without a warning, and he wished he could pull the words back out of the air, back out of her mind.

“Try these.” She passed him a pair of pajama pants. “I’m still looking for a shirt, I might have something that’s big enough for you. There’s a bathroom in my room if you wanna change in there.”

“I can just go shirtless for a while, it’s no big deal,” he reassured her. Her eyes went wide for a moment, and he saw her swallow.

“Okay. I’m gonna change now.”

“Okay. I’ll wait until you’re done.”

They stared at each other for a minute before Indiana finally moved, going into her room to start rummaging through her own clothes. She changed faster than she ever had, throwing on a pair of leggings and a crewneck with some comfy fuzzy socks before she was back in the living room.

“All yours. Um, do you want anything specific for dinner? I haven’t gone to the store in a while, and I would feel bad making somebody deliver in this weather,” she mumbled.

“Well, I’m vegan, but don’t worry if you don’t have anything, I can make it till I get home.”

In all honesty, he was starving, but he wasn’t about to end the date early because of a lack of plant based meal choices.

“I’ll see what I have, go change so I can put your clothes in the dryer with mine.”

He did as she asked, moving into her room. It was similar to the living room - white bedding, simplistic artwork in wooden frames on the walls. But above her bed were an assortment of vinyls, and he actually gasped when he saw the one in the middle.

“You listen to Cudi?!” He yelled, running back into the living room. Indiana was in the kitchen with a cucumber in her hands, but he made her jump so hard that she almost dropped it.

“Yeah, do you?”

“I fucking love Cudi dude, he’s the best artist of all time. I can’t believe you listen to him too.”

“Do I not give off Cudi vibes,” she laughed, putting the words in air quotes.

“No, you definitely do not.”

“What vibes do I give off then? Or do I not wanna know.”

“You don’t wanna know,” he grinned, flinching when she raised the cucumber like she was going to throw it.

“Go change Gray.”

He went back in, headed to her bathroom. It was much darker than the rest of the house, with a dark gray shower curtain adorned with wildflowers. He locked the door and stripped down quickly - his underwear were still damp, but he wasn’t about to go commando, especially if he was gonna risk having to hide a boner later. He had no idea how far the night was going to go, but he wanted to be ready for anything.

Standing there in the mirror in his boxers, he contemplated it for a minute, and then pulled a very 2016 Grayson move of dropping to the floor and doing a quick set of push ups so that his bare arms were a bit more swollen than they had been.

He pulled the pants on, groaning a bit at how long they were, and how tight they clung to his ass. Worried that he’d spent too long in the bathroom he picked up his wet clothes and headed back to the living room with the ends of his pants rolled up three times so he didn’t trip on them.

“You didn’t tell me Devin was a fucking giant dude! How tall is that mans?”

“He’s 6’5”,” Indiana laughed from somewhere he couldn’t see her, popping up with a loaf of bread and putting it on the counter. Her eyes went wide at the sight of him, so much tanned skin stretched over thick bands of muscle that it had her mouth dry. She swallowed again before she spoke. “Just sit those down, I can put them in the dryer.” “I can do it, are yours already in there?”

“Yeah, it’s over there.” She smiled and pointed to the doors in the hallway. He put them in and turned it on before he finally made it to the kitchen and saw the assortment on the counter. But she wasn’t looking at the food anymore - her eyes were all for him, and he felt himself fall nervous under her gaze again.

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re just cute.”

“Oh yeah, these pants are what do it for you huh?” He gave her a little spin just to make her laugh.

“Did I stutter?” She tilted her head to the side just barely, and it took all his self control not to lean in and kiss her right then. Instead, he just shook the thought from his head and stood close enough to where her shoulder was against his arm.

“What’re we workin’ with?”

“Well. I’ve got apples, a few grapes, jelly, some lettuce, bread, peanut butter, a sweet potato and crackers. Sorry.” She was sheepish, and he just shook his head at her with a frown.

“Nothing to be sorry for. You trust my PB&J making abilities?”

“That depends entirely on if you cut it into triangles or squares.”

“Oh c’mon, it’s triangles all day,” he scoffed, getting a laugh out of her that had him floating.

“Then yes, I approve. Do you care if I study while you make them? I just have a few things to go over.”

“Do whatever you gotta do,” he reassured her, moving to open the bread while she went back to her backpack. She was back quickly, with a stack of flashcards in her hands.

“Here,” he cleared her a spot on the counter next to where he was working. “Sit up here, teach me some stuff.”

“It’s just vocab stuff, nothing interesting.”

“Just say it outloud, maybe I’ll learn something.”

And so she did, laughing at the way his brows would furrow and the incredulous look he’d give her when it was a particularly long word. He took his time on the sandwiches, moving to cut up two apples and split the rest of the grapes between the two plates that he found after looking through the cabinets.

He cleared his throat and held out the plate on the palm of his hand. “Bon appetit madam.”

“Why thank you,” she giggled, sitting her cards down and taking it from him gratefully. She stayed perched on the counter and he leaned back against the fridge, taking his own plate in his hands. She complimented the food as she ate, wiggling slightly in the cutest way. Finally, she spoke up.

“Since we’re here, do I get to know what the actual date plan was?”

“Nah, I’m saving that shit for the future,” he smiled, taking the last bite of his sandwich. Even he had to admit it was good despite the slightly stale bread.

“Oh the future huh?”

“Yeah. Like next week.”

“I’ll pencil you into my planner then,” she grinned, tossing a few grapes into her mouth.

“I can’t tell if that’s sarcastic or not.”

“It’s not. Writing everything down keeps me sane I think.”

“Hey, organization is sexy,” he laughed, biting down on an apple slice.

“Good to know.” Her words were a bit muddled around the bite she had in her mouth, and Grayson put his empty plate aside, content to sit and watch her finish her meal. It was so easy to be around her, and he didn’t second guess anything he did or said - he hadn’t realized until her how much he altered himself around everyone he met.

“10 outta 10 PB&J, I’m impressed,” she smiled at him, moving her plate to the side after a moment. He couldn’t help but notice the tiny bit of jelly clinging to her cheek, purple and sticky against her skin.

“You’ve got a little - here,” he stepped up to her, reaching a hand out and running his thumb over it to get it off. But he didn’t let go - not when she looked up at him with those bright blue eyes, just like the jellyfish on the walls, and then he watched her look at his lips once before he leaned in.

She tasted sweet, lips soft against his. They were both hesitant, not sure of how far to take it. Short and sweet, they separated and looked at each other. He felt like he could float away when she brought a hand up to his hair and pulled him back in for another. He moved a hand to the counter for leverage, leaning into her as she smiled against him.

“You taste like apples,” she whispered, and then they were both laughing like they had been all night, cheeks and stomachs sore in the best way.

“C’mon you, what do you wanna do with the rest of our date night?”

“We could finish Emperor’s New Groove?” She poised.

He moved his hands to her waist, pulling her off the counter as she squealed, sitting her on her feet and taking her hand, headed to the living room. Ten minutes later and he was leaned back on the couch, feet up on the coffee table so she could curl up against his bare chest under the blanket while she scrolled through the film, trying to find where they left off.

He hoped that she’d undershoot it - anything to keep them right there, in each other's arms; bliss, as the storm raged on outside.

#SHES HERE #I.... kinda love this chapter #mixtape #grayson dolan #grayson dolan fanfiction #grayson dolan fanfic #dolan twins #dolan twins fanfic #PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT

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thelastspeecher · 3 years

Text

D R A M

The title of this post is actually what I named the Word doc that I wrote this up in. This write takes place in an AU inspired by a post that said something along the lines of “supervillain winds up marrying the ex-spouse of their superhero archnemesis”. I saw that post and was like “time to make another version of the Superhero/villain AU”. So here you go.

——————————————————————————————

Stan slid into his regular stool at the bar. At the sound of soft muttering, he looked over. He raised an eyebrow. Normally, no one sat next to his stool. But today, a young woman sat there, staring morosely at her drink and mumbling something.

“Hey, hot stuff,” he said cheerfully, leaning in. She held up a hand. Light glinted off the golden band around her ring finger.

“I’m married,” she said dully.

“You don’t sound too happy about it,” Stan remarked. She glared at him. “I call it like I see it, toots.”

“Don’t call me ‘toots’,” she snapped.

“Fine. What should I call you, then?”

“By my name.”

“Which would be…?”

“…Angie.”

“Angie.” Stan held out a hand. “I’m Stan.” Angie shook the offered hand. “So, what brings a troubled wife to my favorite dive?”

“My dick of a husband,” Angie groused. She slumped over the bar. “I swear…some days he acts like a completely dif’rent man than the one I married.” Tears shone in her voice, along with a distinct southern accent. She picked up her drink and pulled on the straw. It rattled in the ice at the bottom of the otherwise empty glass. “And I’m all out.”

“I’ll cover it. What’s your drink?”

“Long Island iced tea.”

“Oof. Maybe I shouldn’t get you a second one of those. Those are a bad decision in a glass.” Angie straightened, her eyes boring into Stan’s.

“I can handle my liquor, sir. I bet I can handle it better ‘n you can,” she snarled. Stan held his hands up.

“Okay, okay, I believe you. Man, you’ve got claws, don’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Heh. I like a woman with a bit of fight in her.” Stan winked.

“Still married.”

“To that dick? Why?”

“He treats me right,” Angie mumbled into her drink. “…Sometimes.”

“Sometimes? What about the rest of the time?”

“He tries to get me to quit my job and be a housewife.”

“Why?”

“If I knew, I’d tell ya,” Angie said with a shrug. She tapped the rim of her glass. “So, about that drink…?”

“Hey, barkeep?” Stan called, flagging down the bartender. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one corner of Angie’s mouth turn up, into a ghost of a smile.

-----

Stan had just about finished putting his boots on when his favorite coworker, Undertow, stormed into the locker room. He watched with a raised eyebrow as Undertow tore open his locker, muttering under his breath.

“You’re in a mood today,” Stan commented. Undertow sighed. He looked back at Stan. The crew’s general policy was to keep masks on at all times in HQ, since there were some new heroes with telepathy who might be able to take a peek at a villain’s memories. Undertow’s outfit had a full cowl, rather than a domino mask like Stan’s, but even partially obscured, he had one of the most expressive faces Stan had ever seen. And at the moment, Undertow’s expression was frustrated and saddened.

“I thought she was fin’ly goin’ to leave him,” Undertow said. Stan’s second eyebrow raised to join his first.

He’s pretty damn upset. Normally, he keeps that accent in check.

“Who?” Stan asked.

“My sister.”

“You have a sister?”

“Two.” Undertow sat on the bench next to Stan. “But the one I’m speakin’ of is my twin sister.” Stan racked his brain for any hints about Undertow’s background. As someone without villainous family connections, he wasn’t privy to information that some of his coworkers had. But he remembered hearing once that Undertow came from a long line of villains.

“Is she…in the trade?” Stan asked. Undertow shook his head.

“No. When we were younger, she wanted to be. But she decided not to, when she started datin’ the feller what became her husband.” Undertow scowled. “Her husband’s a real piece of shit.”

“Did he prevent her from being a villain?”

“Nah. He don’t know ‘bout our fam’ly bein’ full of villains. But he’s on the straight ‘n narrow, and wouldn’t have liked his wife to be breakin’ the law.” Undertow sighed heavily. “As it is, he don’t really like his wife doin’ much of anything. Which is why my sister needs to dump his sorry ass.” Undertow rubbed his face. “And I thought she was goin’ to do it this time. But she didn’t.”

“What happened?”

“They had another argument about how he wants her to start poppin’ out kids. She don’t want to yet, ‘cause she feels like takin’ maternity leave right now would cripple her career trajectory. And his response was that she won’t need maternity leave, ‘cause she can just quit her job. He keeps pushin’ that issue over ‘n over. He don’t like her workin’.”

“Sounds like a douche.”

“He is! And after that fight, she came to my house fer a shoulder to cry on. I did my best to sway her, but she still went back to him once she’d calmed down.” Undertow groaned loudly. “Honestly, at this point, I can’t think of a single thing that’d get her to leave him.”

“Maybe I should make a pass at her,” Stan joked. Undertow snorted.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that. You’d be better fer her than what she’s got right now.”

-----

Stan went to the bar every night, hoping to see Angie again, but it took a month before she showed up. This time, she arrived after he did, visibly in tears. She made her way to the stool next to Stan’s and sat down. Faint breezes danced around her, kicking up her caramel-colored hair.

Is…is she a super? I knew she was something special. Stan wordlessly slid her his whisky, which she downed in one swallow. He winced.

“Your husband again?” he asked. Angie nodded morosely. “Well, at least he lasted a month before he pissed you off enough to make you drown your sorrows.”

“Nah, I just went to my brother’s last time,” Angie said hoarsely. “He’s got real moonshine, and I wanted somethin’ strong.”

“If your brother’s got hooch, why are you coming here?” Stan asked. Angie slid Stan’s empty tumbler back to him, determinedly avoiding eye contact.

“I…wanted to talk to you.”

“…Really?”

“Yes.”

“Look, lady, I’m not a marriage counselor.”

“I know. But you don’t have an agenda. My brother does. My whole fam’ly does, all my friends do. All they say is ‘leave him’.” Angie met Stan’s gaze. Her eyes were a bright, brilliant blue, swimming in tears. “I just need someone to listen.”

“I can do that, but you’re gonna have to pay for another whiskey for me first,” Stan said. Angie managed a watery chuckle.

“Fine.” Angie waved over the bartender and ordered herself a Long Island iced tea and another whiskey for Stan.

“All right,” Stan said once his drink was in hand. “What’s going on?”

“My ma became a stay-at-home mother when I was a tot. She kept house and raised six kids-” Stan coughed roughly.

“Six kids?” he croaked. Angie nodded. “What the-”

“We’re Catholic.”

“Ah, okay. Carry on.”

“Props to her. It’s a rough job to have, and I don’t look down on it.” Angie slammed her hands against the counter. A wind picked up, rattling the old beer advertisements on the wall. “But it ain’t fer me!”

“Lemme guess. Your husband wants you to be a stay-at-home mom.”

“Yes. Which I knew. But this time- this time, he brought my ma into it! Told me that I’d be good at it ‘cause my ma clearly was. I just-” Angie gestured wordlessly. “How- how could he think that’s a compliment?”

“Probably ‘cause he’s so dead set on you doing that,” Stan said with a shrug. “He’s already decided you’ll do it, so he’s already started complimenting you on it.”

“…That makes sense,” Angie said softly. She groaned loudly. “Why is he like this?” Stan shrugged. “I want to stay with him, to get him to change his mind-”

“That’s not your job. Your job is-” Stan frowned. “Wait, what do you do?”

“I’m a zookeeper.”

“Your job is to keep zoos,” Stan said. Angie furrowed her brow, like she couldn’t decide whether she was amused by Stan’s phrasing or not. “Not to drag your husband out of the fifties.”

“But I’m his wife.”

“And?”

“I’m s’pposed to help him change.”

“What if he doesn’t want to change?” Stan asked. “What do you do then?” The winds that had entered the bar with Angie abruptly died down.

“…Yer right.”

“I am?”

“He don’t want to change. He don’t want to listen to me. I can’t force it, I shouldn’t have even tried.” Angie dropped a twenty-dollar bill on the counter and stood to leave.

“Hey, uh wait-” Stan started. Angie looked at him.

“Yes?”

“I, uh, I never got your last name.”

“It’s Hillcrest.” Angie slid her wedding ring off and tucked it into the pocket of her jeans. “But not fer long.” She paused for a moment, watching Stan, then leaned in and placed a gentle peck on his cheek. With that, she left the bar.

Stan stared at the door long after she had gone, his mind running a mile a minute.

Did I just get her to break up with her husband?

-----

Stan walked out of the shower and headed for his locker to get dressed in his civvies. After he had his pants on, Undertow entered the locker room and went for his locker as well.

“Hey,” Stan said. Undertow grunted. “Is it your sister’s husband again?”

“Hmm?” Undertow turned around. “Oh, no, she finally dumped him.”

“Really? Good for her.”

“Yeah. But she’s got a new beau, and she insisted on dinner with him tonight.” Undertow sighed. “I’m not looking forward to it.”

“Is he a dick, too?”

“Don’t know. Haven’t met him.”

“Ah. I get it. You don’t wanna meet your sister’s new man just yet.”

“No, I do not.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m not looking forward to dinner tonight, either,” Stan said, slipping on his T-shirt. “I’m meeting my girlfriend’s brother for the first time.”

“Oof.” Undertow looked at him sympathetically. “Don’t worry too much, Flamethrower. You’re a great guy.”

“Thanks, but I dunno if her brother’s gonna think that. My girlfriend says he can be a bit tough.” Undertow walked over to Stan and clapped a hand on his shoulder reassuringly.

“I’m sure it’ll go great.”

“Hopefully,” Stan muttered. Undertow smiled at him.

“If her brother doesn’t like you, he’s a damn fool.”

-----

Stan walked up to the address Angie had given him. When she divorced her ex-husband, she had moved in with her twin brother, Lute. Apparently, Lute was thrilled to have her with him again.

I get it, though. That twin bond is strong. Stan stopped in front of the door. He took a deep breath and knocked.

“Comin’!” Angie called. Stan felt some of his nerves disperse at the sound of her voice. The door opened, revealing the beaming face of his girlfriend. “Stanley!” She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. “Thank you so much fer agreein’ to this.”

“You said it’s important, so…”

“It is,” Angie said softly. “It really is.” Her eyes lit up. “Oh! And, um, remember how ya told me that yer not exactly…on the side of the law?” she said, her voice low. Stan nodded. Telling Angie he was a villain had been nerve wracking, but she had proven herself once again to be the best possible girlfriend and taken it in stride. “Well, the reason I took it so well is ‘cause I have a lot of fam’ly members who ‘re in the same career.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yep! Lute’s one of ‘em. If things go well tonight, I can prob’ly convince him to put a good word in fer ya, get ya moved up in the ranks a bit.”

“You really think so?” Stan asked eagerly. Angie nodded. “That would be awesome, Ang.”

“Just be charmin’, okay?” Angie messed with his shirt. “But that shouldn’t be a problem.��

“Hey, Angie, the oven just beeped!” a voice shouted. Stan’s head whipped up.

That almost sounded like Undertow.

“All right, I’ll come take care of it,” Angie called back. She kissed Stan on the cheek. “Come on in and take a seat in the livin’ room.”

“You got it.” Stan kissed the top of her head and entered the house, following the hallway until he arrived at a cozy living room. He took a seat on the brown couch. Shortly after, a young man that looked eerily similar to Angie entered, holding a glass of water, and took a seat next to him.

“So, um…” the man said. He cleared his throat. “Yer Stan?”

“Yeah. I’m guessing you’re Lute?”

“Yessir.”

“Nice to meet you,” Stan said, holding out a hand. Lute shook it, visibly reluctant. “Angie speaks pretty highly of you.”

“She does the same fer you.” Lute cleared his throat again. “What do you do?”

“I sell used cars.”

“Used cars?”

“Yeah.” Stan shrugged. “It’s just to make some dough while I work on my passion projects.” Lute eyed Stan with interest. Much like when he had heard Lute’s voice earlier, Stan was reminded of Undertow. Something about the look in Lute’s gray eyes was eerily familiar.

“Passion projects? Like what?”

“Oh, uh, I’m keeping them to myself until they work out,” Stan said.

Don’t wanna spill just yet that I want to become a villain full-time.

“Ah.” Lute seemed disappointed. He looked down at his glass of water. After a moment, he spoke again. “You a super?”

“Yeah. You?” Stan asked without thinking. He fought back a wince.

Angie just told you he was a villain, of course he’s a super, you dumbass. Lute smirked. The water in his glass shot up, hovered as a sphere for a split second, then zipped around the room before returning to his glass. Stan’s jaw dropped.

“Whattaya think?” Lute asked snidely.

“…I think you’re a super,” Stan said.

Shit, it is Undertow! How did I wind up dating my coworker’s twin sister without realizing it?

“Yup.” Lute winked. “Better yet, I’m a mask. Give ya twenty bucks if ya can guess who.”

“Lute!” Angie scolded from the kitchen. Lute groaned.

“Fine, I’ll drop it.” Before Stan could think of what to do with the information that Lute was Undertow, the villain in question spoke again. “So, ya sell used cars. What’s yer education like?”

“Uh, high school.”

“That’s it?” Lute asked. Stan nodded. Lute frowned. “My sister has a-”

“Doctorate in herpetology, I know,” Stan said.

“And you don’t think it’s odd at all that someone so educated is with someone who only graduated high school?” Lute pressed. Stan shrugged.

“It just means that she’s smart enough for the both of us,” he said airily. Lute froze. His eyes began to frantically search Stan’s face.

“…What did ya just say?” he whispered.

“That Angie’s smart enough for both of us,” Stan said. A memory abruptly surfaced of a conversation he’d had with Undertow a few days ago. He had mentioned his relationship, as well as the discrepancy between his education and his girlfriend’s. And Undertow had simply replied that Stan’s girlfriend would have to be smart enough for the both of them, then.

“Hmm.” Lute leaned back, still staring at Stan. “Say, yer a super, right? What kind?” In lieu of a verbal response, Stan snapped his fingers. A flame burst to life on his fingertips.

“Whattaya think?”

“Flamethrower,” Lute whispered. Stan extinguished the flame.

“Undertow.”

“Yer- I-” Lute dragged his hands down his face. “Consarnit!”

“Yeah, I gotta admit, finding out that my girlfriend’s twin is my favorite coworker is pretty weird,” Stan confessed. Lute groaned. “But you seem to be taking this way harder than you should be.”

“It’s just- yer my fav’rite coworker, too.”

“You make that sound like it’s a problem.”

“It is. I like ya, Stan, which is goin’ to make it difficult to be hard on ya.”

“Wait, what?” Stan asked. Lute sighed.

“I have to be hard on ya to make sure yer all right fer my sister.”

“What? Come on, man!”

“My sister just got out of a bad relationship. I don’t want her to wind up in another one right off the bat.”

“You know me. I’m a good guy. I treat Angie right.”

“That’s what I thought ‘bout Max,” Lute said softly. “Hell, we’d been friends since we were in diapers. I thought he was a decent sort. So when he ‘n Angie started datin’ in high school, I didn’t bat an eye. I should’ve. If I had, maybe I could’ve stopped Angie from needin’ a divorce.”

“Lute.” Stan and Lute looked up. Angie had entered the living room. She crossed over to Lute, knelt in front of him, and placed a hand on one of his knees. “Don’t blame yourself. The only person to blame is me. I should’ve left the minute he became a hero, and I was goin’ to have to abandon the dream of followin’ the fam’ly tradition. But I stayed. Even when he started raggin’ on me ‘bout how I needed to be a more traditional wife.”

“You were in a toxic relationship,” Lute said softly. “Yer not to blame.”

“The only person to blame here is your dick of an ex-husband,” Stan said. Angie and Lute looked over. “Lute’s right, Angie. It’s difficult to leave a toxic relationship. My mom’s proof of that. But Angie’s right, too, Lute. It’s not your fault, either. Sometimes…sometimes people start out good, but then they get worse. Even if you had been hard on Max when he started dating Angie, things still could have played out the way they did.”

“Yeah,” Lute said. He sighed. “Yer right, Stan. We should be blamin’ Max, not ourselves. Especially since he’s apparently a hero.” Lute directed the statement at Angie, who paled. “Banjolina, what’s that about?”

“Banjolina?” Stan mumbled.

“I didn’t share information either way,” Angie said tartly, getting to her feet. “I ain’t a snitch.”

“Ya won’t be tellin’ us what his hero name is, then?” Lute asked. Angie shook her head. “Hmph. Guess we’ll just have to figure it out on our own.”

“Speaking of secret identities,” Stan said, “why didn’t you warn us that we already knew each other?” Angie grinned.

“I might not have ever gotten into the villainy game, but that don’t mean I ignore the chance to stir up some mischief.” Something in the kitchen beeped. “Oh, I’ve got to get that.” She rushed back into the kitchen.

“Given what ya just said and what I already knew about you,” Lute said slowly, “I’ll drop the protective big brother speech.” Stan leaned back.

“Cool. I mean, no offense, but you’re not as intimidating as you think you are,” Stan replied. Lute rolled his eyes.

“Whatever.” He leaned closer to Stan. “Between the two of us, I think we could figure out which hero it is what broke Angie’s heart and trapped her in a bad relationship fer years on end.” Stan nodded.

“I agree. That motherfucker needs to get a firm ass-kicking.”

#I changed Lute's villain name from Tsunami to Undertow bc Tsunami was so that it would match Angie's name of Sirocco #but he doesn't have that motivation for his villain name in this situation #I am a big fan of Drama in my AUs so this AU is v fun to play with lmao #Best Revenge AU #Stanley Pines #Angie McGucket #Lute McGucket #Stangie #ficlet #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks

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midnight-queery · 4 years

Text

how very polite of you

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26354770

“So, let me get this straight,” Sam started, setting her glass of wine down on the table. Lena snorted at the phrasing, and Sam shook her head. “Kara kissed you.”

“Yes,” Lena mumbled, her eyes darting down to her own glass of wine and staying there. She took a quick swig as Sam did her best to maintain a neutral expression.

“And… you thanked her.” Sam was very proud of herself for not laughing. She could laugh later, when her friend wasn’t slouched on her couch, miserable because of her own screw up. Still, she couldn’t resist: “How very polite of you.”

Lena groaned, very loudly, and hid her face in her hands. Sam still managed not to laugh, though she honestly wasn’t sure how at this point.

“Are you trying to wake Ruby up?” Sam asked, a small smirk on her face. Lena peeked out from between her fingers and shook her head. “Anyway, Lena, I really don’t see why you’re here.”

“Because I fucked up. And usually when I fuck up I can go to Kara. But in case you haven’t realized, that’s not really an option,” Lena snarked. She deflated under Sam’s unimpressed gaze. “I don’t know what to do, okay? You’re supposed to be my friend- help.”

“What exactly do you want me to do?”

“Friend… magic? I don’t know!” Lena waved her hands erratically. “Kara always found a way to make it better. So just… channel Kara.”

“You want me to channel the person who kissed you? Sorry, Lena, but I’m taken.” Sam leaned back with a smirk and Lena groaned, more quietly this time. Sam sipped her wine as she waited for her friend to get her thoughts in order. Lena remained quiet. It seemed one kiss from Kara had the ability to rob her genius brain of coherent thoughts. Okay then. “When I said I didn’t understand why you were here, I meant I didn’t understand why you were talking to me,” Sam tried. Lena stared at her blankly. Was Kara really that good of a kisser? Geez. “Lena, you should be talking to Kara about this. Then once you two are together and have finally acted on all the sexual tension you force us all to suffer through, you can come back to me and give me all the juicy details.” Sam gave Lena a wide smile as the young Luthor’s brain seemed to short circuit.

“I can’t talk to Kara about this,” Lena finally said. “Are you insane? Did the Luthor madness somehow rub off on you?”

“Since when are you mad?” Sam blurted.

“Well I certainly feel like I’m losing my mind,” Lena grumbled. “She kissed me and I said thank you. Who the fuck does that?” Lena flopped back onto the couch with another loud groan. Before Sam could shush her the sound of footsteps could be heard from the hall. “Fuck,” Lena whispered.

Sam hoped it would be Ruby who had woken up. Sam really, really hoped it had been Ruby. She could send her daughter back to bed. She couldn’t do the same with-

“Alex?” Lena blurted, startling. “What the hell are you doing here? Oh. Oh my god. Oh, fuck.” Lena turned from a bleary-eyed Alex to Sam, her eyes narrowing accusingly. “Sam, why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were dating Kara’s sister? Or that she was currently here?” Lena hissed.

“Uh, well, it’s still new, is all. And we didn’t want to tell you yet because we knew you’d tell Kara. And she apparently threatened to throw Alex’s last girlfriend into the sun or something,” Sam said hurriedly.

“I can keep a secret,” Lena said with a pout. A pout. An actual, genuine, making-Sam-feel-even-worse pout. Alex voiced Sam’s thoughts almost to the letter.

“Ugh, now you’re pouting too? You hang out with Kara too much,” Alex grumbled. She plopped down beside Sam and leaned against her, her sleepy eyes trained on Lena. “Why are you here so late? Or early, I guess. What time is it? Wait, where’s my phone?” Alex started shoving her hand between the couch cushions, apparently having lost her phone before bed and only now realizing when she needed a clock to better berate Lena for her early morning visit.

“No reason,” Lena said quickly, shooting Sam a death glare. Sam only rolled her eyes.

“Lemme guess,” Alex drawled, giving up her search and nudging Sam to search her side of the couch, “you’re having some kind of gay awakening and realizing you’re in love with my little sister.”

Lena looked like she was having a stroke, but Alex was too focused on the phone Sam had just fished out of the cushions to notice.

“Or at least that’s what Sam would have me believe,” Alex grumbled, mostly to herself. “She keeps insisting you two like each other. I don’t really see it.” She glanced up at Lena and froze. “Wait, what’s with that face? What happened?” When Lena remained silent, her mouth opening and closing but no words coming out, Alex turned to Sam.

“Sam, don’t-” Lena tried, but it was too late.

“Kara kissed her and she thanked her instead of admitting her feelings and she came to me instead of talking to Kara cuz she may be a genius but she’s kind of a dumbass,” Sam rushed out, a guilty look on her face. Lena looked like she was wishing for her quarterly assassination attempt to come early. Alex just looked between them both, blinking owlishly, before looking down as her phone buzzed with an incoming call.

“Well, that would explain why Kara is calling at… 3:27 in the morning. And why I have… holy shit, 33 missed calls? I didn’t even realize either of you were gay, and now you’re both gay disasters? C’mon,” Alex grumbled. Sam snorted. Lena hid her face in her hands again, and Sam nearly guffawed when she heard her mumble something about how she at least had a functional gaydar. “I heard that. Now both of you shut up. If I don’t answer the phone Kara is going to-”

Whatever Alex said was drowned out by the front door being thrown open so hard it bounced off the wall with a loud bang, a panicked Kryptonian storming in with a small metal ball in her hand that Sam was pretty sure used to be her spare key. Maybe Sam should rethink having a super strong alien babysit her child. Then again, said alien usually wasn’t freaking out about kissing her best friend, so it should be fine once the two dumdums talked things out.

“Alex you weren’t answering your phone and it’s an emergency and I know you’re dating Sam and we need to talk about that later but I need your help cuz I think I messed up!” Kara rambled. She glanced from Alex to Sam, then over at the sleepy Ruby who had padded into the living room. “Sorry for waking you up, Ruby, but I kissed Lena at our sleepover and she thanked me and then ran away and I don’t think she wanted me to kiss her and I was gonna talk to her first and tell her I’m in love with her and then ask if I could kiss her but she just looked so happy and I really wanted to kiss her and oh Rao Lena is here why is Lena here???” Kara cut off, her eyes impossibly wide and staring at Lena in horror. She did an abrupt about-face and started walking out the door.

“Kara, where are you going?” Alex asked tiredly, stifling a yawn. Ruby was watching with obvious amusement, Lena’s face was fire-engine red, and Sam really wasn’t sure how she hadn’t laughed by now. Seriously, when all this was over she was probably going to have to laugh for eighty years straight just to make up for not laughing right now.

“Back to the Phantom Zone,” Kara replied, still walking away.

“And how exactly do you plan on getting there? I really don’t think J’onn will lend you his spaceship for this,” Alex drawled.

“Brainy is working on something that’ll send lethal threats to the Phantom Zone. It’s not done yet but I should be able to finish it by tomorrow. Goodbye forever.”

Alex actually sat up straight at that, a startled look on her face.

“Kara Zor-El Danvers, get back here right now,” Alex said sternly. Sam gave her girlfriend an impressed look, but Alex’s hard eyes were trained on the slumped form of the Girl of Steel as she shuffled back into the room.

“Alex-”

“No. Sit down.” Alex pointed to the seat beside Lena’s and Kara held out for about five seconds before slumping into it. “Now, both of you are going to talk this out like adults instead of freaking out like teenagers.”

“Hey,” Ruby said, frowning. Alex glanced at her, her gaze softening, before turning back to Lena and Kara with a smirk.

“Sorry, that was an insult to teenagers. But still- you’re both adults. Talk.” Silence. Alex clapped her hands loudly, and Kara and Lena both flinched. “Kara, you first. You’re the one who decided to start this mess at an ungodly hour.”

“I shouldn’t have come here,” Kara grumbled.

“You could have at least waited until daylight, Kar. Now quit stalling.”

“Ugh, fine,” Kara whined. She turned to Lena, unable to look her in the face and only managing to glance at her every few seconds. “I- uhm. I’m sorry I kissed you. Not that, uh, not that I didn’t want to kiss you but I should have like, asked first. And told you that I’m in love with you. Or at least that I- shoot, how do humans put it? That I like like you?” Kara glanced at Ruby for confirmation, and the girl nodded. “Yeah, that. Um. So yeah. I don’t… I’m not really sure why you thanked me? Or why you left… it would have made more sense to kick me out since we were at yourpenthouse?” Kara did manage to look at Lena then, and Lena’s face was even redder. The brunette glanced at Sam for help, but Sam just crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows expectantly. Lena sighed.

“I didn’t mind that you kissed me,” Lena started quietly. “I actually, well, I actually quite enjoyed it. I just wasn’t prepared- I thought you were straight.”

“So much for having a functional gaydar,” Alex grumbled.

“Babe, you thought our first date was just friends having dinner together until I kissed you. I’m obviously the only one with a functional gaydar in this room. Nia and I have been shipping Supercorp for months.” Sam pecked Alex on the cheek to lessen the blow, and Alex grumbled about how impossible it was to stay mad at Kryptonians.

“Supercorp? I like it,” Ruby mused, walking over and plopping down on the couch beside Sam, “but maybe we could also have Karlena, ooh or Karena- but pronounced like ocarina, not just Karen with an a,” Ruby’s face scrunched up and Sam laughed.

“Sounds good, Rubes. But maybe let’s let them actually get together first.” Sam reached over and ruffled Ruby’s hair as the girl rolled her eyes.

“Alex started it,” Ruby mumbled.

“And I’m ending it. Lena, continue.” Sam gave her friend as encouraging a look as she could muster for this ridiculous situation. She’d wanted them to finally get together, just not in her living room at 4 am. Nia was definitely going to be jealous though.

“I’ve been in love with you for an embarrassingly long amount of time,” Lena blurted, her eyes going to Kara’s and staying there. “I didn’t realize at first- I thought it was just another hopeless crush on a cute blonde- but then when you rescued me and revealed you were Supergirl in the process I realized I was more hurt than mad, and then you were trying so hard to make it up to me for not telling me sooner and I decided to give you a second chance and, well I don’t give second chances, but I did for you. That’s why I was so skittish when we first started being friends again, because I realized I was in love with you and that there was no hope of a Super ever loving a Luthor.” Lena took several deep breaths when it was all out, and Sam had the feeling she’d been bottling up those words for awhile now. They apparently needed to have more girls’ nights without the Danvers sisters in tow (Nia could still come though… unless they wanted to complain about their girlfriends’ dangerous jobs, then the other vigilante hero was out).

“Lena,” Kara said softly, a hint of admonishment in her tone. “you’re not a Luthor, or at least not like that. You’re not a villain. Just look at all the good you’ve done for this planet, from the humans to the aliens to the planet itself! Your image inducer helped countless aliens live a better life here, and you’re always anonymously donating to charities, and you’ve made L-Corp the greenest company in National City by far, maybe even in this country! Yeah, you’re a Luthor, but you’ve used all of those resources and connections to start changing your family’s legacy to a good one. We are not our families, Lena. And National City may be slow to realize it, but I’ve known it for awhile now: Lena Luthor is a hero, and no last name can change that.”

And then Lena was crying and Kara was out of her chair in less than a second, doing her best to hug Lena and pressing kisses to her hair and forehead and cheeks and Ruby was watching the whole thing with the tiniest look of disgust on her face.

“Mom, please don’t ever be that mushy with Alex. I don’t think I could take it.”

“No guarantees, kiddo,” Sam said as she used her phone to snap some photos to send to Nia- she was gonna flip when she checked her phone (unless she’d already foreseen this… nah, she would have told Sam- she was about as bad at keeping secrets as Kara).

#supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #danvarias #alex danvers #samantha arias #sam arias #ruby arias #karlena #supergirl #supercorp crack #supercorp one shot #based on a tumblr post #lol

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allmycrushesaredead · 3 years

Text

Sad - Chapter 3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24480694/chapters/67817831

Summary:

Remus offers his advice in his own unique way.

Warnings: suicidal thoughts, self-hatred, self-esteem issues, self-harm, cutting

ANGST!! You have been warned!

Originally published on 10-15-2020

Words: 1605

Chapters: 3/?

Remus had a feeling that Patton wasn’t doing so good up in his head, but he knew better than to worm his sorry ass into a situation he wasn’t wanted in.

Remus had the blessed ability to hear allll the little evil voices in everyone’s heads, not to mention his own demented friends who took up dwellings in the deep, dark crevices of his mind. So it wasn’t too much of a shocker when he started to hear those dreadful dicks coming over from Patton’s brain.

They all whispered darkly, sowing seeds of self-hatred and self doubt. They told Patton he wasn’t loved, wasn’t cared for, wasn’t important.

Just shut up and do your job. No one cares if wittle baby Patton is sad. Why would they care about you? What have you done that deserves love? You literally split Creativity. That was your fault. Your job is to be happy. Suck it up and grow a pair.

Remus wanted to bash their heads in with a blunt axe. He want to chop their heads off, tear out their eyeballs and replace them with candles, then use them to decorate his room. He wanted to—

Well… you get the picture.

And besides, they were just thoughts. He couldn’t do shit to actually harm them, no matter how much he wanted to.

When the thoughts slowly darkened, Remus wanted to rip his own heart out. It hurt too much just thinking about the fact that Patton would even consider following through with his thoughts.

He knew Patton had started cutting. He knew because of those voices that told him to slice his skin like bread whenever he got upset. That didn’t happen unless you already started cutting.

Remus didn’t judge him for doing it though. There was something cathartic about watching your very life source trickle out, to know you had the ability to end it all right there in your hand. The pain forced your brain to shut the fuck up for just two seconds. Remus could understand the appeal. Hell, he’d done it himself more than he could count. Watching the wounds heal in slow motion could silence his brain for hours on end, granting a much needed reprieve from the clashing and yelling of his thoughts.

Remus absentmindedly dragged a nail over his raised scars while he laid in bed, thinking. That was never a good sign. When Remus thought, that meant he was about to do some stupid shit he would regret later.

Today, it seemed like that stupid shit was going to be confronting Patton.

Rolling out of bed, he pulled on his usual outfit, applying his makeup with a practiced hand.

Suddenly, he caught a whiff of coffee and food. Realization blooming on his face, Remus dashed to his bed, plopping down to yank on his boots, then grabbing his morning start. You never know who you’re gonna have to kill over breakfast, he thought, a wicked grin overtaking his features as he skipped down the stairs.

As he skidded to a screeching halt in the kitchen’s entrance, Remus shot Logan, Virgil, and Patton a gap-toothed grin, leaning suggestively against the doorway.

“Morning, dorks!” he shouted, swinging his morning star with one hand.

Virgil rolled his eyes from where he was perched on the counter, though Remus caught a glimpse of a smile from behind his coffee mug. Patton gave a small wave, pulling a coffee mug down from the cabinet, filling it to the brim, then handing it to the side. Logan stared at his coffee mug, the tips of his ears tinged pink. After a moment, he risked a glace at Remus, only to find that Remus was staring at him, a knowing smirk plastered across his face. The normally solemn side blushed a furious red, coughing awkwardly before shuffling out to the dining room. “I’ll… go set the table,” he muttered, face still bright red.

Virgil chuckled lightly before catching Remus’ pointed look. Giving a small, discrete nod, he said, “I’ll go help him, then. Can I take the plates and silverware? Seems like Logan forgot those.”

“Alright, kiddo!” Patton replied. “I’ll just finish up the food. It’ll be ready in just a second.”

As Virgil stepped out of the kitchen, balancing a stack of plates and silverware, Remus stepped away from his spot in the doorway, approaching Patton cautiously.

“Soooo…. about the whole slicey-slicey thing?” Remus probed, miming slitting his wrist.

Patton froze, his shoulders tensing as he paled. “W-what do you mean?”

“Y’know… the whole cutting thing? The whole self-harm thing? The whole cutting your skin open and watching yourself bleed thing? The whole—”

“Nope! Yeah, I… I got it… Just, um… how’d you know… about that?”

“Well, me kinda being the embodiment of intrusive thoughts and all, I can kinda hear all intrusive thoughts from the others… including you.”

“I am so sorry, Remus. If I had known—”

“How could ya have? And, besides, its not like you coulda just not thought the thoughts. It’s kinda the whole reason they’re called intrusive.”

“Still, I don’t want you to have to deal with that on top of what you already have to deal with.”

“It’s part of my job! Besides, I’d rather know what’s going on inside your head so I can… I dunno… help, I guess? Geez, stop making me sound so sappy, you’re gonna ruin my reputation,” Remus said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Still…. I’m sorry…”

“It’s fine! You should hear some of the shi- stiff! Stuff… that, uh, Logan has to listen to. Of course he’s got the whole, ‘I’m not good enough’ thing going on, but then he’s got the whole ‘I’m not supposed to have emotions’ thingy, on top of the ‘I’m failing Thomas and the others if I take time for myself’ thing. And that’s not even the worst of it! It’s insane the amount of irrational and self-destructive thoughts he has, considering that he always has a rebuttal for anyone else’s illogical thinking. And don’t get me started on Roman! He—”

“Remus! Wait, please,” Patton cut him off abruptly. “I- I don’t think you should be telling me this, not with out the others knowing. We need to talk about it, but… with the others, m’kay?”

Remus nodded. “Yeah, sorry… I got a little carried away with my train of thought there…” He paused a moment, trying to remember where he was going with this. “I just… I know I’m not the best person to go to for hwlp with stuff like this… In fact, I normally make it worse… but, go to someone when you need to talk? Don’t keep these thoughts bottled up inside. I know I’m kinda being hypocritical here, but… ask someone to help you work through these thoughts. Repression works for a period of time, but eventually you’re gonna have to wake up and smell the cow manure. And, believe me. It’s much easier to face your problems when someone’s there to help you than to go it alone. If you’re hurting, I want to know so I can help. And I know the others feel the same…”

Patton stood in shock for a moment, tears glistening in his eyes. Suddenly, he surged forward, wrapping Remus in his embrace. Remus wordlessly cradled the moral side in his arms, tucking his face into Patton’s neck to hide the glistening of tears in his own eyes. After a moment, Patton pulled away, smiling softly at him. Retrieving their coffee mugs that had both been abandoned on the counter during their discussion, Patton topped them off with fresh coffee before returning the octopus one to Remus.

Gladly accepting the drink, Remus chucked once more. “Geez, my reputation totally just jumped out of the window… of the plane… while in flight…. Anyways, I gotta pull myself together! Can’t have people thinking I’m some sappy, lovey-dovey friend, now can I? Hold up, lemme get back in character.”

Remus began squawking loudly, shaking out his limbs and pulling strange faces. After a moment of this, with Patton giggling from behind his hand, he resumed a somewhat normal expression… at least… normal for Remus… which meant slightly crazed. Cracking his neck loudly, he blurted out, “So, about our resident nerd… that was quite a strange reaction to my presence, don’t ya think?”

Patton giggled again, hugging his mug to his chest. “I’d say!” he replied.

“Oooh! I wonder if Logie-poo has the hots for me!” Remus said with a cackle.

Patton blushed lightly at the phrasing, but pressed on bravely. “I dunno, kiddo! Sure looked strange to me, though!”

Remus gasped dramatically. “I bet he had a wet dream or something, and now he can’t look at me without seeing me in all my naked glory!”

Patton choked on his coffee, his face blooming into a burning blush. He stammered a moment in shock before attempting to change the subject. “You wanna help me carry the food out, bud?” Patton squeaked, fanning his face with one hand.

Remus let out another cackle. “Of course, Patty-pal! I gotta try and eat it all before Roman wakes up! He’ll be pissed!” he replied, sounding delighted at the prospect. To emphasize his point, he scooped a handful of scrambled eggs up with his bare hand, shoveling it into his mouth. “Let’s go! No time to waste!” he called to the still flustered side, somehow balancing all the trays of food in one hand.

“C-coming!” Patton cried, gathering the strawberries and whipped crème.

“That’s what he said,” Remus muttered.

“What was that, Remus?”

“Nothin’, Pops! Nothin’ at all.”

#patton angst #patton sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #thomas sanders sanders sides #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction

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themidnightfarmer · 4 years

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We need a heR(I)O || Orion & Jared

Timing: This week

Location: Car park in town

Tagging: @3starsquinn & @themidnightfarmer

Description: A deal gone wrong and Jared needs a hero.

Triggers: none i think? (lemme know if i’m wrong)

The insanity of the week before had lessened significantly, but had not ceased just yet. This is why Jared had a lot on his mind when he pulled up into the parking lot near to midnight. Not being totally focused on what he was doing turned into a new nightmare however. The dealer let out a yelp and dropped the cage, where Jared’s reflexes were too slow. The creature inside snapped at their former captor before making a break for it. Having already handed over the cash, the nymph was abandoned by the handler. And now it was up to Jared to round up the beast. The shriken took off like a shot. Small enough only just to shoot between the nymphs legs. And in other circumstances he’d have let it go, he always considered most beasts best left to be wild after all. But this particular shiriken had only been caught due to having been stolen early from it’s nest. It was still a juvenile, dangerous but small. And without the protection of its parents, Jared wasn’t confident it wouldn’t be hunted for its feathers. The creature was distraught enough to deny Jareds attempted connection completely. Unfortunately for the person who rounded the corner, the creature took a major dislike to them. All Jared could do was call out. “WATCH IT!”

Orion was on the mend. His ribs felt a lot better from where they had the week before, the wrist brace was off, the swelling had gone down in his cheek. Sure, his face was still all bruised, but the pain had mostly subsided by that point. Physically, Rio was almost back to normal. Mentally, well, Rio couldn’t stop thinking about the troll. Had that really been the only option he had left? It didn’t matter now, he supposed. It was too late to take back what had happened. What he had done. All he could do now was focus on moving on and moving forward. Try to do some good to balance out the evil. First order of business, investigate the noise that Rio heard. Late at night, the parking lot should have been mostly empty. But the sound of yelling voices and… something else was enough to peak Rio’s curiosity. He took a detour from his path home, creeping around the building that led to the parking lot. His side ached, as if protesting Rio’s choice to creep back into danger. Still, he moved forward, too stubborn to risk someone dying because he didn’t try to intervene. He had only just turned the corner when something plowed into him, knocking him off his feet and onto the hard pavement. Whatever the creature was, it wasn’t done with Rio yet. He stayed on top of his nipping towards his face. Rio flailed around, using his arms to cover his face.

The face that appeared around the corner was not one Jared recognised, at least not with a formal introduction and a name given. They seemed vaguely familiar, but he didn’t have time to dwell on that as he watched the shriken knocked the kid over. Even at half the size it would be fully grown, the shriken was still big enough and dangerous enough to be concerned. Having had no time to make the connection he would have liked with the beast, the nymph could only be thankful that the birdlike creature didn’t have access to it’s usual weapon. No spare branches around the parking lot. He had nothing he needed to seal with the creature and the poor kid was doing his best to cover himself from the pecking. Jared was glad of another thing, the beak of the shriken was not sharp until allowed to sharpen in the making of their weapons. And this one having been in captivity from very young, if the kid kept their eyes covered gashes would heal. “Roll over!” he called to the other figure, while he skirted around the two wondering the best angle to dive in at for the best grip. “ROLL OVER NOW!” he only wished the other could hear him over the screeching of the beast.

If Orion hadn’t been so busy protecting his face from the bird’s attack, maybe he could have pulled the thing off of him. This thing was clearly supernatural and stronger than an average bird, but Rio’s hunter strength should have been more than enough. But as things were, he risked serious damage if he moved his arms away. And if he reacted without knowing his surroundings, he risked hurting the creature. The pecking stuck, tearing into his sleeves and stabbing at his skin. Someone was yelling something? He couldn’t hone in on the words at first, but then he was yelling them louder. Roll over now. Duh. Why hadn’t Rio thought of that? He complied, flipping over onto his back and moving his hands to cover the back of his hands. The pecking caught at his fingers and moved down to his back before it finally stopped. Rio stayed on the ground for a moment, processing what had just happened. Finally, he peaked his head up from the ground and realized that the bird was no longer there. He pushed himself up, catching the eye of the guy that had told him to roll over. “What was that?” Rio asked, staring at his bloodied hands and torn sleeves. He needed to be careful to keep that skin covered. “We need to catch it before someone hurts it.”

The nymph wanted to help the guy on the ground, but didn’t want to risk hurting the beast and have it growing emotionally further from him. The creature found less flesh to attack once the kid had rolled over and lost interest quickly. At this point also Jared was torn. To chase the shriken down was what he desperately wanted to do, but he had a duty also to check on the boy and make sure he wasn’t too injured. He need not have worried however as, when the bird took off, the other person instantly looked at him. “I uh...don’t know exactly.” Jared answered vaguely. Not wanting to let on that he knew anything right away, Despite being caught handing over money for the thing. He paused for a single moment only. Before wholeheartedly agreeing to the help. “We catch it alive right? No damage, I’m not about damaging animals. Are your arms okay bud?” The nymph extended an arm of his own to help him off the ground. “You promise we won’t try and hurt this one right?” It was a low blow, and jared tried to word it in the nicest way he could. Promise binding was tricky and he was a complete novice at it despite being fae himself. He left it as closed and simple as he could. This one referred to only this particular being, given that Jared knew self defence at some point living in this town was inevitable and did not want to strip that away from the guy. And he also left room for accidents. Sometimes accidents happened, if they hurt it somehow he wanted it to be minor and not detrimental. Those were the nicest conditions he could think of.

Once the man had helped Orion off of the ground, he started asking if Rio was okay. “Me? Yeah. No worries. I’ll be fine.” The knicks on his hands and arms stung, but they’d heal eventually. He wasn’t thrilled about the blood on his hands again. It only reminded him of the trolls. This guy was pretty serious about not hurting the bird, clearly. “Oh yeah, of course I promise! I wouldn’t hurt that thing. It was scared. And it’s going to either get hurt or hurt someone else.” Rio explained, wiping the excess blood onto his jeans. He really liked these jeans too. Rio took a deep breath and paused for a minute, trying to focus out his hearing. It wasn’t something that he was very good at yet, but the bird had been making a lot of noises. It shouldn’t be too hard to hone into the sounds. He focused out until he finally heard it. “Bingo!” Rio called out accidentally, before correcting himself, “Uh- I mean. I’m pretty sure it went this way. Let’s go!” Rio took off in the direction of the sound, hoping they weren’t going to be too late.

The other took so easily to the promise Jared couldn't help but spare him a smile. Either not aware of the dangers of making promises, which worked well for Jared, or the other was simply on his side with this. Either option was a win in the nymphs book. He couldn’t sense anything from the kid, so he wasn’t fae at least. But he kept his options open for something else as they seemed to focus on breathing. Jared was dumb enough to not recognise the pause as anything but a human desire to collect himself before they gave chase to the creature. He took that moment himself to attempt to reach out, make a tentative connection with the shriken but it was too shaken up and too far away for that initial bond he tried to make with all his charges. No luck. Although that couldn’t be said for the other guy. He was off like a shot and Jared stumbled to a start behind him. “I’m Jared.” he introduced as they pelted down the stairs of the parking lot and onto the street.

Running was easy for Orion. Besides his clumsiness, Rio was incredibly fast and the hunter in him lent to increased stamina. He couldn’t go as long as some other hunters that were actually in shape, like Adam or his sister. But Rio could book it if he needed to. Right now, Rio was caught between trying to chase down this bird and wanting to make sure he didn’t leave behind the guy that may or may not know something about the creature they were after. Why else would he be chasing the thing down in a parking lot at midnight if he didn’t know something about it? The guy introduced himself, Jared, and Rio spun around, running backwards for a few seconds to wave at the guy, “Orion! I go by Rio.” He tripped over something in the road and nearly fell over, flailing his arms out widely before he corrected himself. “Do you know anything about this bird thing?” Rio yelled over his shoulder. He tried not to phrase it like an accusation. More, a query. Another peak in the sound of the bird and Rio shifted, moving to turn a corner sharply and losing footing. His leg slid out from under him and he caught the ground with his hands and pushed back off to continue running down the alley, “This way!”

Jared’s senses might not be as good as that of the hunter, but he was indeed much faster than a human. And yet he also slowed his gate, trying to perpetuate the image he put forward. He was human as far as anyone was concerned and that is the way he’d like the perception to stay. The name given however finally sparked that familiarity in Jareds mind. This was RIO. This was the kid Winston lived with and had kissed recently. Jared cursed being such a recluse a lot of the time. He’d heard loads about Orion, but introductions had forever been pushed back due to some crisis or another. “Orion. Rio. Winston has talked about you.” He replied carefully. The nymph opened his mouth to respond to the inquiry about the shriken but the sound turned into an aborted sort of yelp as Rio slid on the ground. The recovery was so impressive, Jared had slowed to help him up before he’d even registered that Rio was still running. “I know some!” he admitted in a moment of confusion as he tried to catch up. The shriken could be spotted above the next corner streetlamp, juvenile and not quite fully fledged enough to carry itself far in the air. “Just make sure it doesn’t lift anything from the ground that it can use!” he advised.

The urgency of the situation was slightly lost on Orion when he heard Winston’s name. He decided against turning around this time, his balance far too unstable for that. But he did slow down, “You know Winston?” There was a certain level of admiration if Rio’s voice as he spoke. If Jared was a friend of Winston’s, sure he was a trustworthy person? Since there seemed to be a close circle of friendship between the people that Winston knew, Rio wondered if that meant Jared knew Blanche and Nell or any others in town. “They’re the best aren’t they?” Rio grinned, but shook it off to get back to the topic at hand. “Lift anything from the ground? What does that me-“ Rio’s words died off in his mouth and he slowed to a stop as the bird hopped across the ground inspecting the area. It finally landed on a large branch, scooping it up in its claws and turning back towards the two of them. “Oh. So that’s what you mean.” Rio spoke, trying to sound nonchalant despite the tremor betraying him. “That’s a smart bird.” At least there hadn’t been anything crazy lying on the ground like a sword. Or a gun. Could that thing pull a trigger? Rio wouldn’t even be surprised.

“Known Winston since they were in school.” Jared confirmed, catching up as Rio slowed. The reaction warmed his heart however, the tone Orion took when speaking about Winston, matched well with the compliment given so freely. “They are.” The nymph was a hopeless romantic and it gave him hope that perhaps the panic their friend had been having over that kiss was all for nothing. A smile crossed his lips at the thought, but that didn’t last long as the shriken had found a weapon. “It’s cool, it’s a-okay. He’s young, and has yet to learn to sharpen it’s weapons. Plus it has no time. We’re all good. Just uh…..don’t get hit and let's try to take that branch off of him first yeah?” Jared voiced as soothing as he could manage. This paired with the more vague plan he’d ever put together. This being a fact only due to the reality that Jared was not known for plans. He was best known for doing something and then regretting it almost instantly. Thinking things through was definitely not a strong suit of his. He glanced at the other and gave Rio a sheepish sort of shrug and half smile. “Sound uh...good?”

Orion listened to Jared as he talked about the bird, but Rio couldn’t pry his eyes off of the bird to actually look over at Jared. “Sharpen it? That’s great. They know how to sharpen things. That’s um... handy.” Rio let out a single, nervous laugh. Rio had just been owned by a troll the work before. He really didn’t love the idea of being impaled by a bird this week. “Right. Just take the branch away. Seems easy enough.” Rio took in the surroundings. It was dark, nothing by the dim glow of the street lamp the bird stood beneath giving any light. That didn’t effect Rio’s eyesight, but he couldn’t say the same for Jared or the bird. Assuming Jared was a human, he may not be able to see much. This would be easier if Rio knew something about the creature. A weakness or something he could do to help capture it. “Well it really doesn’t seem to like me. I think our best course of action is me playing bait and you can grab it?” He turned to Jared, returning Jared’s smile and adding a thumbs up. What could go wrong?

The moment to play dumb was not this one Jared decided. Anything he could supply Rio in the ways of information would need to be imparted before they got into this. “It’s called a shriken, it seems young, it’s beak hasn’t been sharpened fully so it definitely hasn’t fledged yet. This works with us,” he started to rattle off quickly before the boy jumped into something he wasn’t ready for. “Grabbing for the middle of the branch would be safest as it’s unlikely to want to peck at you when it has the advantage of the stick.” He cringed then. “I’ll try to get my hands on it quickly. And hopefully with as little damage to Orion as he could manage. It was all about speed at this point.

A shriken. Some type of supernatural-esque bird, no doubt. Orion had skimmed through a couple of bestiaries that the Scribrary held. He wondered if he had ever passed by the name without realizing it. His expertise surely wasn’t in supernatural creatures that weren’t sentient. Sometimes, when faced with stuff like this Rio wasn’t convinced that his expertise was in anything at all. He still felt so clueless about this world. But Rio couldn’t dwell on that right now. All he could do was nod along to Jared and begin slowly walking towards the bird. He tried moving faster, but his body was holding him back. He wasn’t thrilled about the idea of getting attacked by it again. His hands and arms still stung from the first time it had attacked him. “Hey birdy birdy birdy” Rio waved at the creature, still inching towards it. He flinched if the bird made even the smallest of movements. His hood was up, as if the thin piece of fabric would protect his head in any way should the bird stab his stick at it. Finally, the bird leapt forward and Rio crumpled to the ground.The branch slammed into his side, reigniting a pain in his ribs that he thought had mostly healed by this point. He reached out to grab onto it, but the bird had already moved on, scraping the branch across his arm and pulling it towards his face. Rio ducked down, flailing his arms wildly in an attempt to catch onto something. Clearly that wasn’t working. So Rio took the risk, pulling his head up to get a better view. He really hoped that the bird didn’t stab him in the eye or something, that’d be bad. He finally noticed the bird swinging towards his leg and reached out and caught onto the branch. He readjusted, grabbing at the center of the branch and then holding on for dear life.

Rio had some serious courage. To face up against a creature like this after it had already taken a disliking to you was admirable. Jared was stuck in place for a moment just watching the crazy kid aggravate the bird in order to gain it’s full attention. “Absolute madman.” Jared mumbled to himself before starting to skirt very quietly around to behind the bird. He watched over the birds head as Rio took a little bit of a beating and vowed to apologise to him some time later. Once the skriken had been caught and deposited carefully at the farm or at least somewhere well out of the way of town. As soon as Rio had a hold of the branch, Jared leapt forward. He braced himself and crossed his arms over the birds beak. It took all his strength and he was a nymph with a lot more than a human and all. But the touch did the trick. As soon as he had skin to feather contact he felt his connection bleed into the creature. The connection didn’t guarantee the bird would listen to him, but it would calm it’s attack for long enough to at least figure out what to do next to contain it for transport. He whispered apologies to the bird as it was forced to let go of it’s branch and allow Rio to take it away. “Okay okay, cool cool cool cool. Uh…” Jared was stuck. He’d left his truck back in the parking lot. And with how agitated and angry the shriken was he wasn't sure it would calm enough in Orion's presence to be walked there. He was stuck. “Can you drive?”

Orion held onto the branch like his life depended on it, until finally the weight of the bird lifted. Rio froze, taking a moment before glancing up to see Jared holding onto the bird. Rio sighed in relief and sat up, “Ow,” was all that Rio said as he once again worked to brush dirt off of his hoodie and try to fix the hair that the bird had pulled at. He had no idea what made the shriken hate him so much, but he wasn’t about to risk trying to get it’s affection now. Rio was still in the middle of catching his breath when Jared asked if Rio could drive. “No.” He answered simply, before changing his answer and diving deeper, “I mean yes. Technically I have my driver’s license. But I don’t have a car right now. It’s a long story but for now I’ve mostly been walking or taking a lyft places.” Rio shrugged, as if this was all fine. The town wasn’t that big anyways. It took another long moment before Rio finally realized that Jared did not care whether or not he had a car. “Ohhhhhhh.” Rio drew the word out far longer than it needed to be, “You weren’t asking about my car. You just want to know if I can drive.” Sometimes Rio really felt like he was incredibly dumb for supposedly being so academically gifted. “Uh- yes. I can drive.”

It would have been funny. It would have been incredibly funny and endearing for rio to go off on the tangent that he had. It would have been...had Jared been in any other position than he was right then. He could only spare a strained smile for the rambling words, but then he needed action. “My truck is back in the carpark. Keys in the ignition. Could you pull it around? You’re quick as hell, could you do it like...now? And uh….don’t steal my truck please?” As much as he’d heard of Orion from Winston, that didn’t mean the kid wasn’t practically a stranger. But a stranger he was going to take a chance on.

Orion kept nodding. For every word Jared spoke, Rio just nodded and nodded. Until finally he realized that he was supposed to go. Like now. Right. Rio waved off to Jared and then skipped before darting off toward the parking lot. He wasn’t waiting for anybody this time, so he ran as quickly as could. It wasn’t a far distance so he wasn’t worried about saving energy. He just wanted to get to the truck as quickly as possible. He split the corner, bumping against the brick of the alleyway building on his way around. It threw him off balance and he stumbled in the road, but kept going. He reached the steps and leapt up them, skipping multiple at a time. Luckily, the late hour meant that the parking lot had been relatively empty and Jared’s truck was easy to pick out. He was thankful that he had driven Ricky’s truck before, or this would have really freaked him out. Okay admittedly this did still freak him out. Driving someone else’s car was weird. He struggled between driving as humanly slow as possible to avoid crashing and needing to move quickly to get back to Jared. At least it wasn’t a far drive. He slowly pulled up near Jared when he got back to them. The bird was still in hand. That was a good thing at least. He hopped out of the driver seat, leaving the door open. “Okay. Here we go. See? I wasn’t gonna steal your truck!”

While Orion was gone, Jared started to whisper to the shriken. Trying to explain himself as best he could, about how it would be free to go as soon as he’d given it a once over and taken it to a safe distance from the town eye. The calm of the bird grew as Jared mumbled to it, reassurances finally making their way through the connection between the nymph and his charge. Jared had no double however that as soon as he spotted his truck the bird would rile itself up again at the appearance of the ‘branch stealer’. Something about the kid setting off alarm bells in the creature that Jared couldn’t quite grasp. Arms crossed firmly, pinning the beak of the shriken to its body as carefully as he could Jared shot Rio a smile. “Thanks. I already have my tractor away for repairs, riding into town on horseback is only fun if it’s not raining or midnight.” Jared shuffled himself and the creature towards the truck and nodded in the back. “Could you pass me that fabric? I’ll cover its wings and we can be off...do uh...thanks for the help. Do you need dropped off anywhere?”

Orion couldn’t be sure why this shriken hated him so much. As far as he was aware, there weren’t any supernatural creatures that could sense hunters. Not that he agreed with what hunters did, but the genes were still there. Maybe the bird really just didn’t like Rio for whatever reason. Until he had pulled up, the bird had seemed relatively calm in Jared’s arms. Rio stuffed his hands inside his pockets and side stepped away from the truck so that Jared could get the bird in without risking the bird hopping free to try to murder Rio again. He laughed at joke about the horseback before realizing that it had been said fairly monotone. “Wait… do you really do that? Ride into town on horseback?” Rio nodded his head, trying to picture it before mumbling, “That’s so cool.” Rio tried not to get too close, leaning his body forward to grab the fabric and toss it over to Jared without too much disruption. When Jared offered a ride, Rio waved it away. “Oh uh no problem. And don’t worry about it. I don’t need to stress that bird out anymore than I already have. It’s not that far of a walk home. I was walking there before all this anyways.” He shrugged and waved shyly before stuffing his hands back in his pockets, “Uh nice meeting you though! Hopefully you can get that bird thing somewhere safe.” How did Jared know so much about a supernatural bird? Clearly now wasn’t the time to ask, but it was definitely something he’d have to ask eventually.

#C: Orion 'Rio'#P: Chatzy #P: We need a heRIO

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unpack-my-heart · 5 years

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Acute-y

A Reddie High School Math Teachers AU

Written as a gift for the insanely lovely @constantreaderfool <3

@xandertheundead @tinyarmedtrex @eds-trashmouth @mrs-vh @violetreddie

Read on AO3 HERE

“I dunno, Sir. I’m supposed to be putting in my college applications in a few days, and I still can’t decide what to pick as my major”

“What are you choosing between?”

“Math and biology. I’m better at math, and I don’t enjoy biology that much, but I can’t think of a decent reason to put down as to why I want to study math. What did you put when you applied to college?”

Eddie sat back in his chair, face scrunched in thought.

“You know when you’re in the middle of a really hard proof, and you don’t know where you’re going, you have no idea where to start and the whole thing just feels like a waste of time?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“That’s like being in a kayak in the middle of the ocean. You’re there, you’ve got all the tools you need to get you to shore, you’ve got your oars and everything, but you don’t have a map. You don’t know which way to go. But, when you figure out which way you are supposed to go, that feeling when you haul yourself onto shore with aching arms, that feeling when you know you’ve done it, that’s why math is amazing”

“Aching arms?”

“It’s a metaphor, Jasper. Just – look. I’m not naturally good at math. I always had to work a bit harder than my peers, who just seemed to … get it instantly. I definitely cried over integration more often than I’d admit to anyone else but you. But I think that’s why I love it so much. My childhood wasn’t … let’s say, my childhood wasn’t very rational. I craved structure, order, precision, any other synonyms that mean the same thing. I craved rationality and math gave that to me. To be able to break everything down, to get absorbed into the minutia of the universe, it’s addictive. It’s breath-taking, and it eases my soul”

Jasper is staring at Eddie with wide eyes, mouth hanging open slightly, and Eddie internally facepalms, cursing himself for spooking the teenager sat opposite him, but then Jasper smiles.

“Thanks, Sir. That – that’s really helpful. Thank you”

“Anytime,” Eddie says, sending Jasper off with a wave and a smile.

Standing up, Eddie stretches his arms towards the ceiling, prompting his back to crunch loudly in three places. His classroom is a mess. Pieces of paper lie strewn all over the floor, rogue pencils and forgotten textbooks littering the desks. Eddie’s school is small, and tragically underfunded, and despite only being a permanent member of staff for a year, Eddie already feels fiercely protective over it. The school is a downtown public school, and his kids mostly come from the impoverished neighbourhoods on the outskirts of the city. Almost all of them have long, boring commutes into school, and almost always slouch into his morning classes tired and starving from never having eaten breakfast, so Eddie has become the teacher that arrives to his classes with pep in his step and a box of granola bars lodged firmly under his arm.

Eddie got the job at Southview High School six days after he’d graduated from his teaching qualification. He’d applied to thirty schools, mostly disadvantaged public schools, and three private schools at the insistence of his mother. He’d been offered interviews for all of them, but he’d only attended one. As soon as he’d walked into the interview room, and shook hands with the head of department, a fiery woman called Dr. Marsh, he knew he was home. Dr. Marsh was firm, and the interview had lasted nearly two hours, and by the time she’d put him through his paces, Eddie felt like his brain was on fire.

He was sure that he’d failed the interview, but after thirty seconds of silence, Dr. Marsh stood up, stuck out her hand, and said, “Can you be here tomorrow at half seven? You’ll be taking the AP students, I’m taking their classes at the moment but I can’t commit as much time to them as they need. God knows they need someone like you”

Eddie had jumped up and down on the spot, before composing himself and accepting the position.

“Oh, and Eddie?”

“Yes?”

“Call me Bev”

The first few weeks had been pretty rough. The kids, predictably, had put Eddie through the ringer, testing boundaries and acting out as teenagers are wont to do. It took a while, but eventually Eddie, to use Bev’s phrase, ‘grew some bollocks’, and started commanding more respect in the classroom. He achieved this, not through sending kids out of the classroom or handing out detentions like candy, but by just through the simple act of listening. The kids, Eddie was quick to realise, just wanted someone to validate, not dismiss, their teenage angst, and Eddie was more than happy to be their crutch.

Fast forward a year, and Eddie’s classroom has become more of a home to him than his actual home. It’s pretty large, and Eddie begged Bev to let him implement flexible seating, so his kids are sat on large tables that look more like picnic benches than desks, in order to encourage collaborative work. One thing that Eddie has come to realise, however, is that his class is full of genuinely talented mathematicians. When he hands back test results, it’s always the same ten students getting in the high nineties, which, gives him an idea.

He attaches a note to the most recent test paper of these ten students,

Can you stay behind after class? I need to ask you something!

[you’re not in trouble please don’t panic]

Needless to say, the kids panic.

“Sir? Am I in trouble? I swear I’ve handed in all the homework this term!”

“Mr Kaspbrak I’m really sorry, I didn’t realise I’d accidentally stolen the protector until I got home, I brought it back, though, honest!”

“Sir, what’s this about?”

“Guys! No, you’re not in trouble, but thanks for bringing the protractor back, Kim. No, I have a proposition for you. Have you ever heard of mathletics?”

The kids all shake their heads.

“Well, lemme explain …”

– X –

It takes several weeks for Eddie to recruit all of the students he cherrypicked as his dream mathletes team, but he manages it, with the promise of extra credit and no homework on heat weeks. Whilst he was a mathlete himself during his college years, Eddie hasn’t ever actually coached a team before, so he spends hours every evening reading every internet article and borrowing every book from the library he can possibly find on how to coach a mathletics team. Eventually, when he thinks his students are ready, and he manages to get them all to agree, Eddie registers them for a practice heat against a local school in their city.

Eddie and his motley crew of baby mathletes meet every Thursday and Friday after school to practice, and before they knew it, the morning of the heat was upon them. The heat was being held in the auditorium of the opposing school, so Eddie had to borrow the rusty old school bus to schlep his kids across the city. Bev, who had given Eddie an ecstatic “YES!” when he had asked for her permission to take the kids to a mathletics heat in school time, had announced the night before that she wanted to go with him. He had said yes, sort of hoping that she’d offer to drive the death-trap bus, but she’d climbed into the front passenger seat. Eddie prayed to the driving gods that they’d keep the roads clear and keep the wheels attached to the bus before he climbed in, and they set off to Faraday Technical School.

Thankfully, the journey goes smoothly. The kids chatter quietly in the back, and Bev manages to distract Eddie’s nervous stomach by discussing budget plans, and whether he thought that Iron Man would be better than her at differentiation. Eddie answered honestly that he didn’t think he would be. Soon enough, they pull into the gates of Faraday Technical School, and Bev hops out of the bus to speak to the guard on the gate. Eddie gulps. Their school doesn’t have a guard. Their school doesn’t even have gates. They just have an old caretaker called Jim who loves the kids and polishes the floor with his radio on full blast. The guard nods at Bev, and then nods over at Eddie, and then the gates swing open as if by magic, and Eddie drives through. The school looms ahead of them, and Eddie’s students all go silent. By the time Eddie has parked up, Bev has walked over to them, and she hauls the door of the bus open.

The kids don’t move.

“Dr. Marsh, I don’t think I can do this”

“Yeah I’ve … I’ve got a headache”

“Sir, we’re going to lose”

Bev claps her hands, “Hey! You can do anything these kids can do. Yeah, they go to a fancy school, but you’ve got Mr K and me on your side. You’ve worked so hard for this, don’t let the fact that this school has a pool spook you”

“They have a POOL?!”

“Why don’t we have a pool!”

“Because I want to be able to afford the latest textbooks for you, that’s why” Bev says, grinning.

After several minutes of animated encouragement from both Bev and Eddie, the kids finally filter out of the bus. They stand around looking ever the lost lambs, and Eddie’s heart bleeds for them. He knows exactly what it feels like. Imposter syndrome, feeling like you’re a fraud, like you don’t belong. Like you don’t deserve success.

Eddie and Bev herd the kids into the school, and they find the auditorium. The opponents are already on the stage, closely huddled together, with an older looking teacher with a shock of white hair and a pinched face standing in the centre of the huddle. The teacher was waving his hands wildly and speaking so loudly that Eddie could hear him at the other end of the hall.

“WHO ARE WE?”

“FARADAY TECHNICAL SCHOOL!”

“WHAT DO WE DO?”

“WIN!”

“WHEN DO WE WIN?”

“ALWAYS!”

“That’s a rubbish chant” Bev stage whispers, and their kids laugh nervously.

Eddie takes a deep breath in, squared his shoulder, sets his jaw, and strides purposefully over. He taps the teacher on the shoulder and clears his throat.

“Um, excuse me?”

“Ah, you must be Mr Kaspbrak, we spoke on the phone”

Eddie takes and shakes the extended hand.

“Yes! That’s me. You must be Mr Tozier?”

“Oh, no, no. I’m Mr Powell, the principal of Faraday Technical. Mr Tozier is sorting out the IT, you should liaise with him”

“Oh, okay. Where can I find him?”

A hand lands on Eddie’s shoulder and squeezes, and Eddie turns around. Stood behind him, and smiling at Eddie with a wolfish grin, is a man who can’t be any older than Eddie, perhaps a year at most. He’s wearing a very loud pink Hawaiian shirt, grey dickies and scuffed suede Chelsea boots, with round red glasses balanced on his nose. By all rights, he should look ridiculous. But he doesn’t. Not even close.

“Howzzit, fellow teach?” Mr Tozier says, voice crackly like autumn leaves.

“Uh…” Eddie replies, dumbly.

“I stalked your Linkedin, you know. MIT grad? Top of your class?” Mr Tozier whistles, impressed. “How’d you end up teaching sprogs if you’re some kind of hypergenius?”

“My Linkedin?”

“Yup! Wanted to check you out before you got here, see what I’d be up against. Gotta be honest, Eddie Spaghetti, you got me shaking in my boots”

Ridiculously, he starts shaking his legs, a pretence at fear that makes Eddie snort, despite his attempts not to encourage Mr Tozier’s ridiculousness.

“Eddie Spaghetti? Seriously?”

“Too informal? Would you prefer Mr Spaghetti?”

“I’d prefer Mr Kaspbrak, thank you,” Eddie says, somewhat prissily, but Mr Tozier doesn’t seem to mind, a lopsided grin still plastered on his face.

“So, Mr Tozier, how does this work?”

“Mathletics virgin, are we?” Mr Tozier says, and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Not entirely. I was a mathlete myself when I was at MIT but I’ve never coached a team through a competition before”

“Aw, no shit? I was a mathlete at CalTech. What year were you on the circuit?”

“2006, you?”

“…2006. I fuckin’ KNEW you looked familiar!” Mr Tozier practically shouts, pointing a finger in Eddie’s face accusatorily.

“Do you think we competed against each other?”

Mr Tozier shrugs his shoulders, “’Prolly, your face … well, it looked familiar as soon as I stalked your LinkedIn. I’m like an elephant, I never forget cute faces”

Eddie splutters a bit, before raising an eyebrow challengingly, “well, if we did compete against each other, I wiped the floor with you. I never lost a heat. Eddie the dominator, they called me”

“Dominator, eh? We’ll see about that,” Mr Tozier says with a wink, before striding off towards his team.

“Wait!”

Richie turns around, “what’s up, Mr Spaghetti?”

“Enough with the spaghetti! I don’t think it’s fair that you know my first name and I don’t know yours”

“Richie, Richard if you’re angry with me”

“Got it, see you later, Richard”

Richie laughs, high, bright and scratchy.

“May the best team win, Mr Spaghetti”

Eddie rolls his eyes dramatically, but he can no longer suppress the smile that’s been tugging at his lips.

– X –

Eddie’s team wins the heat. As soon as the winners are announced, he bursts into tears. Happy tears, of course. His kids laugh at him mercilessly, calling him soppy and ridiculous, but they all have megawatt beams plastered on their faces. They only win by three points, 103 to 106, but the other team were smart, and there were various points in the heat that Eddie was trying to work out how to console his team when they inevitably lost. Bev picks Eddie up by the waist, and squeezes him so hard he makes this involuntary squeaky ‘oof’ noise, causing the kids to laugh at him even more.

When they’re piling the students back into the bus, with the promise of candy at the next mathletics meeting, one of the kids from Faraday Technical School runs up to Eddie clutching a folded piece of paper.

“Mr Tozier asked me to give this to you,” the kid says, out of breath and puffing.

Eddie tilts his head, “Uh, thank-you?”

The kid thrusts the piece of paper into Eddie’s hand, before running off again. Eddie opens the paper,

I’ve decided I don’t really like math. The only number I care about now is yours

Eddie looks up from the paper, face burning, and immediately locks eyes with Richie, who was standing in the window of the auditorium. Eddie waves at him, a weird jerky little motion. Richie grins, and winks at him. Eddie laughs, before shaking his head and climbing back into the bus.

Later, when Eddie’s at home grading problem sheets, he absent-mindedly checks his email, and sees that he has a notification from Linkedin.

Richard Tozier would like to add you as a connection!

Eddie accepts without much thought, and goes back to grading. Several minutes later, though, his computer pings again, this time with a message

Richard Tozier has sent you a message!

Richard: Fancy seeing you here

Edward: This … is an online message? You can’t see me?

Richard: You pedant

Edward: :-)

Richard: oh my god even your emojis are cute

Edward: :-(

Richard: Why are you sad!

Edward: did you want something or are you just trying to distract me from marking?

Richard: Both?

Edward: Not acceptable. I have to mark 34 more problem sheets and then plan a lesson tomorrow on trig identities

Richard: :-(

Edward: Now you’re just mocking me

Richard: I meant what I said, you know

Edward: … About?

Richard: Not liking math anymore

Edward: Get some better pick-up lines

Richard: You were charmed by it, don’t lie to me. I saw your face when you read that note.

Edward: No comment

Richard: :-)

It took more strength than Eddie would ever admit under oath to pull himself away from his computer, but he managed. Shutting his laptop lid with a click, he managed to lose himself in the problem sheets for several hours, before his eyes start getting heavy and he calls it a night. Before he goes to sleep, he impulsively checks his LinkedIn messages,

Richard: Are you the square root of 2? Because I feel irrational when I’m around you

Edward: You’re a nerd

Richard: ;-)

– X –

After their triumphant win at the practice mathletics heat, Eddie starts entering his kids for more and more practice heats, and even organises a few himself that they hold at their school. The confidence of his students blooms like blossom trees, and Eddie couldn’t be more proud if one of them had won the Fields medal. He’s still messaging Richie on LinkedIn. Like clockwork, Richie sends him a pick-up line at night, and Eddie always responds by calling him a nerd. It’s their thing now, and Eddie is punched in the stomach by the realisation that, if Richie stopped messaging him, he’d be devastated.

The thing that was frustrating Eddie the most, however, was the fact that their conversations had not moved off of LinkedIn. They hadn’t even added each other on Facebook, or followed each other on twitter, even though Eddie had managed to find Richie’s accounts on both sites. His mouse had hovered over the ‘add as friend’ and ‘follow’ buttons more times than he’d care to admit, but he could never quite bring himself to click. Eventually, the frustration builds up to a crescendo, and so, with his heart hammering in his chest, Eddie sends Richie a message.

Edward: Hey Rich, was wondering if you’d want a mathletics re-match? I wanna show off how good my kids have got

Edward: No pressure, of course

Richard: Name a time and a place, Mr Spaghetti

Eddie decides to throw the heat at his school, and he spends several days co-ordinating with Bev about where they should hold the heat, and then sweet talking the music teacher into agreeing to do the PA. Try as he might, Eddie can’t ignore the nerves gnawing at his stomach. he doesn’t really understand why he’s nervous because it’s not like Richie returns this pathetic school-yard crush Eddie has been harbouring since the first practice heat. Eddie rationalises it by assuming that Richie is just a naturally flirtatious person. It doesn’t work, though, and the nerves transform into butterflies.

The morning of the heat arrives. Eddie’s classroom overlooks the small parking lot, and he catches himself periodically staring out of the room, waiting for Richie’s bus to arrive. When the Faraday Technical School bus does arrive, Eddie is in the middle of explaining a particularly tricky vector problem. Eddie stares at Richie who is holding the bus door open, saluting each kid that hops out. By chance, Richie looks up, and sees Eddie staring at him from his classroom, and Richie winks at him again, causing Eddie to splutter. The student who is currently working out a problem on the board sends him an odd look.

“… so once you’ve found the dot product, you can find the angle between the two vectors,” Eddie continues, trying to regain composure.

“Uhhh Sir, the angle is acute”

“Yes, I know. You just worked that out on the board for us”

“Your answer is 116 degrees”

“…Shit”

“Sir! You swore!”

“Oh, Faraday are here, is that why you’re nervous?”

“… Yes. That is exactly why. The competition. Yes. Of course!”

The bell rings soon after, and Eddie scrambles down the hall to the cafeteria, that they’ve repurposed as a makeshift auditorium. His kids are already there, bickering between themselves about who will go first for the mental arithmetic round.

“Siiiiiiir! Jenny lost my calculator! I don’t have another one for the calculator round!”

“for fucks sake – Okay Kim! That’s fine. I’ll go and fetch you one,” Eddie says, and he sprints to the math supply cupboard at the other end of the school to get a spare one.

He darts into the cupboard, grabs a calculator, opens the door again and promptly screams because directly outside the door, leaning on the opposite wall, is Richie. Richie laughs at him, a proper belly-laugh, and clutches his stomach as he doubles over. Eddie huffs at him, and starts walking back towards the school hall, comically slow, allowing Richie to catch up with him

“Hey, Mr Spaghetti,” Richie says, breezily, walking sideways like a crab so he’s facing Eddie.

“Hello, you pest”

“You ready to get your ass handed to you?”

“I wouldn’t be so cocky, dude. My kids have been working super hard since the last meet, plus … we thrashed you last time so … it’s you that’s gotta be scared,” Eddie counters, poking his tongue out at Richie, childishly.

“You won by three points”

“We still won”

Richie leaps in front of Eddie, blocking his way, before standing up on his tip-toes and clasping his hands together, “care to make this interesting?”

“What d’ya mean?”

“Are you a betting man, Mr Spaghetti?”

“Is it ethical to bet on our students?”

“Ethical Schmethical. We won’t be exchanging money if that’s what you’re worried about,” Richie says, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

He’s wearing different glasses frames this time. They��re blue, and they match his eyes.

Eddie shakes his head, distracted.

“… Go on”

“If my kids win, you gotta let me take you out”

“Hmm…,” Eddie muses, in mock consideration, “what if my kids win?”

“You gotta take ME out!” Richie says, eyes sparkling.

“But… that works out the same”

“Oh, so it does! What a clever little spaghetti you are”

“You gotta quit it with the spaghetti stuff!” Eddie scolds, but Richie just laughs at him.

“You gonna put me in detention?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “obviously not”

“What a shame. So, Eds, do you agree to our little wager?”

They’re nearly back at the hall now, and Eddie can hear Bev’s voice filtering through the PA system, instructing everyone to take their seats.

Eddie holds his hand out for Richie to shake, “deal”.

Richie takes his hand, but instead of shaking it, he presses a sloppy kiss to the back of Eddie’s hand.

“You must be an asymptote, because I just find myself getting closer and closer to you,” Richie whispers into Eddie’s ear, and before Eddie can call him a nerd, he’s gone.

– X –

Eddie’s kids lose the heat. They lose quite badly, actually, as Richie’s kids function like a well-oiled machine, and Eddie’s kids freeze when a particularly tricky integration stumps them. Eddie feels awful, especially because this was the first time they’d lost by a significant margin. His kids surprise him though, and they all shake the winners hands, looking upset but not angry. Eddie’s heart threatens to leap out of his chest, each beat a cacophony of proud, proud, proud.

Eddie also shakes the hands of all the kids, congratulating them on their speedy mental arithmetic and their teamwork. Bev yells something to him about the PA system not turning off properly, and Eddie turns his head to tell her that he’ll be there in a minute, but then another hand is in his. It’s larger and rougher than the others, and Eddie turns his head and, of course, it’s Richie.

“Well done, Mr Kaspbrak. You guys put up a good fight,” Richie says, no longer shaking Eddie’s hand, just holding it.

“Thanks, Mr Tozier. Your kids are quite impressive”

“Heh. They’re good eggs, all right. I’m proud of ‘em”

One of Richie’s kids screeched loudly for Mr To-zi-eeeeerrrhhh!!, and Richie’s head snapped backwards, before he turned back to look at Eddie, rolling his eyes, “they may be smart, but my God they’re demanding little sprogs”

Richie gives Eddie’s hand one last squeeze, before striding off towards the back of the hall, collecting his kids, and disappearing through the door.

Eddie looks down at his hand, and sees a tiny piece of paper folded up nestled in the center of his palm. It had a phone number scrawled on it in teeny tiny chicken-scratch scrawl, along with the words your new favourite number.

Eddie saves the number in his phone under ‘you nerd’, with a rolling-eyes emoji next to it.

– X –

To: You Nerd:

Very sneaky.

From: You Nerd:

Whatever do you mean?

To: You Nerd:

You know exactly what I mean.

Richie doesn’t respond immediately, and Eddie’s hands begin to itch.

To: You Nerd:

So where are you taking me?

From: You Nerd:

Ah-hah! A certain Mr Spaghetti hasn’t forgotten our wager

To: You Nerd:

Of course I haven’t

From: You Nerd:

Well, I’ve got a very exciting evening planned, but it’s a surprise so I can’t tell you. Are you free on Friday? Say, 6pm?

To: You Nerd:

Yeah, I can do Friday. Can you at least tell me what the dress code is, though?

From: You Nerd:

It doesn’t matter what you wear, you won’t be wearing it for long

To: You Nerd:

I’m not gonna put out you know

From: You Nerd:

I never insinuated such a thing

To: You Nerd:

… but you said I wouldn’t be wearing my clothes for long?

From: You Nerd:

just wait and see, Eds, just wait and see

Eddie doesn’t text back after that, getting lost in marking test papers. When he’s lying on his couch later that evening, knocking back a large glass of red wine, a thought suddenly pops into his booze-hazy brain … that fact that he just might have a picture of college-age Richie Tozier lurking in his scrapbook from his mathlete’s days. Eddie balances a chair in front of his wardrobe, and manages to pull the scrapbook off of the top using the pad of his index finger, sending it clattering to the floor. He flips through his college scrapbook, looking for the pictures of the mathletics heats he’d competed in, and he finds the one he’s looking for almost instantly. He’s standing there, holding the trophy, a stupidly big grin on his face (and those damn braces!) but in the corner, Eddie spots him. Richie. Richie’s standing in the corner of the shot, staring at Eddie with what look like, if Eddie didn’t know better, a sort of lovestruck expression on his face. Eddie grabs his phone and takes a picture of the photo, and sends it to Richie with the caption, you’re such a nerd.

Richie texts back almost instantly.

From: You Nerd:

I can’t wait to take you out Eds

Eddie’s sort of stunned by Richie’s reply. He’d expected Richie to make a joke about his braces, or the ridiculous sweater he was wearing, or even some corny pick up line. Not … this. After twenty minutes of fighting with himself, Eddie eventually sends, I’m excited, too.

– X –

The rest of the week flies by in a blur of standardised testing, broken protractors and departmental meetings. By the time Friday rolled around, Eddie was exhausted. He’d woken up and spilt his coffee all over his crisp, white suit trousers, and then his car wouldn’t start so he’d popped the hood, and oil had spurted all over his sweater. One quick change later, and he’d finally made it to school. Only then, much to his chagrin, and after bumping into several tiny Dracula’s in the hallway, he remembered. It was Halloween. The worst teaching day of the year. By the end of the school day, the oppressive smell of fake blood had turned Eddie’s stomach, and if he never had to look at someone wearing Frankenstein’s monster bolts in their neck again, it’d be too soon.

Richie had text him earlier in the day with a house address, and when Eddie had sent back pensive looking emojis Richie had reassured him that, whilst that was his home address, he did actually have plans to take Eddie out, and it certainly wasn’t a Netflix and chill kind of situation.

Eddie drives to Richie’s house, parks up outside. Eddie is surprised to find that Richie lives in a very nice suburban neighbourhood, like something from a storybook. White picket fences, jack-o-lanterns, ghosts hanging from trees, the whole deal. Just when Eddie had worked up the courage to get out of the car and knock on Richie’s door, it swung open and Richie marched out. He was dressed as a ghost, draped in a huge sheet, which had two comically small, wonky eyeholes cut out of it.

“We’re going trick or treating!” Richie yells, and whilst his face is obscured by the sheet, and the eye holes are far too small for Eddie to see his face, he can just tell that Richie is looking very pleased with himself.

“Aren’t we a bit old for trick or treating?” Eddie asks, sceptical. He walks up to Richie, who bounds back inside his house. Eddie follows him.

“This isn’t all my house, it’s two apartments. I live on the first floor,” Richie explains as he walks up the stairs, beckoning Eddie to follow him.

“I thought you said we were going out?”

“We are! I just need to check on the child”

“… The child? You have a kid?”

“Me? Naw. She’s not mine. I borrowed her”

“… You borrowed a child?”

“Yup”

“… is that legal?”

“I mean, I’m pretty sure an uncle can take his niece trick or treating without informing the authorities, you silly spaghetti,” Richie laughs, pushing the door open.

Richie’s apartment is small, but cosy. It’s fairly messy, books scattered on every available surface, posters littering the walls, five mugs of half-forgotten coffee on the coffee table. Eddie is surprised by how similar Richie’s apartment looked to his own house.

Whilst Eddie is browsing Richie’s expansive book collection, a small child bursts through into the living space. She can’t be more than six or seven years old, but Eddie still screams.

“Jesus Christ!”

“Uncle Rich! That man said a bad word!”

“Oh hush, you demon. Your father says worse when he sings you lullabies at night. But… Jessica you look … really quite horrifying”

“Thanks!” Jessica beams. She’s dressed in a grubby clown costume, complete with Jacobean ruff and breeches. Her face is painted white, with red lines that look like deep welts running from her eyes down to her mouth, and her hair is obscured with a violently orange wig. In short, she looked uncannily like the sort of clown that appears to Eddie in his sleep paralysis nightmares.

“Did – did you choose her costume?” Eddie asks, looking at Richie with wide, terrified eyes.

“No… she chose it herself, I would have dressed her up as a bee or something not,” Richie gestures helplessly to his niece, who is making scary faces at herself in the reflection of the coffee table, “this”

The oven dings, and Richie pulls out a plate of roasted vegetables and sausages that look suspiciously like the morning star ones Eddie eats on a Saturday morning.

“Is she veggie?”

“Naw, but I am. I refuse to cook her dead carcasses as much as the little carnivore might beg me,” Richie says, ruffling Jessica’s hair, who is sat on the kitchen counter, shovelling food into her face at lightning speeds. “I told her she couldn’t have any candy unless she ate some real food first. Plus, while she’s distracted, I can show you your costume!”

“My … my costume?” Eddie asks faintly.

Richie nods vigorously, and skips into his bedroom, before emerging clutching a small package wrapped in paper decorated with pumpkins and cats wearing witches hats.

“It’s not my birthday, Rich”

“Yeah, but I don’t know when your birthday is, so I wanted to have all bases covered in case it happened to be today”

“… you’re cute,” Eddie says, before ripping the paper off the package, and revealing a Jack Skellington costume.

“Are you serious?!”

“As a heart attack,” Richie says, solemnly.

“Why aren’t you dressed as Sally then?!”

“I don’t have the legs for it”

Eddie scoffs, “uh, yeah you fuckin’ do,” before he can catch himself. He slaps a hand across his mouth when he realises what he just implied.

“Been checkin’ out my pins have we, Mr Kaspbrak?” Richie lisps, stretching out his leg in a hilarious display of faux-coquettishness.

Eddie throws the wrapping paper at his head.

Eddie disappears into the bathroom, and tries the costume on. Staring at himself in the mirror, adjusting his bowtie, he has to admit to himself, he makes for a good pumpkin king. He sweeps his hair off his face, and secures it under the bald cap, and emerges from the bathroom with a flourish.

Riche clutches at his heart, “Oh sugar, ain’t you the sexiest skeleton I ever did see”

“I don’t really look like a skeleton yet. Did you get facepaints?”

“sure did, c’mere, lemme …” Richie sweeps Eddie under his arm, and guides him to the couch.

Richie crouches between Eddie’s open legs, and starts covering his face in white paint. Eddie holds his breath. Their faces are close enough that Eddie can feel the rhythmic puffs of breath coming out of Richie’s mouth, and he can see the flecks of green in Richie’s aquamarine eyes. Richie smells like smoky sandalwood and a little bit like mint. Toothpaste. Eddie tries to breathe it in without Richie noticing.

All too soon, Richie sits back on his heels, eyes scanning Eddie’s face, admiring his handiwork, “There!”

Eddie stands up, and walks over to the mirror hanging over the mantlepiece of the filled-in fireplace. He looks .. incredible. His entire face is sheet-white, with black rings around his eyes and lips.

“Holy shit, Rich…”

“He said another bad word!” Jessica yelled from her place on the counter, where she was now pushing a lonely piece of broccoli around on her otherwise empty plate.

Richie looks at the plate, and shrugs his shoulders, “good enough!”

After several minutes of highly concentrated pestering from Jessica, all three of them are out of the door into the quickly darkening night. They hop from house to house, Jessica scaring more than her fair share of other kids and even other adults. Eddie surprises himself by how much he enjoys wandering around the streets, admiring all of the costumes and sharing swigs of a bottle of hard cider Richie has hidden under his sheet.

Richie soon realises that the holes he cut in his sheet were far too small to walk normally, so he latches onto Eddie’s hand, threading his fingers through Eddie’s.

“You gotta be my eyes, spooky spaghetti. I can’t see a fuckin’ thing. Keep an eye on the clown, would ya”

Eddie squeezes Richie’s hand in reply, not trusting himself to speak.

Half way through the night, though, Richie takes off his sheet.

“The damn thing is too hot and I probably shouldn’t leave you in sole charge of the clown,” he reasons, shoving the crumpled up sheet into his bag.

“Put the damn thing back on!”

“Nope! You’re in costume enough for us both,” Richie laughs but he takes Eddie’s hand again.

After a few steps, Richie starts singing.

“And does he notice, my feelings for him? And will he see? How much he means to me”

“That’s a sad song, Rich,” Eddie whispers in response, watching Jessica roar at, and terrify, yet another small child. The kids mother glares at them, and Richie just shrugs at her, whatcha gonna do?

“Maybe. The movie does have a happy ending though,” Richie says, and Eddie just nods.

They drop Jessica back at Richie’s brothers house just before nine, and she’s so hyped up on candy and sugar that Eddie is sure that she’ll never sleep again. Richie’s brother looks almost exactly like him, and Eddie is about to ask if they’re twins, but Richie interrupts him.

“The night is young, spooky spaghetti! Follow me for the next step of the surprise”

Eddie is sceptical, mainly because the last surprise resulted in him being dressed as Jack Skellington and paraded around the neighbourhood by a plain-clothed Richie, but he figures it can’t get any worse, so he follows.

– X –

“I’ll have the mushroom bourguignon please, waiter!” Richie announces, shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

Eddie, mortified and wishing he could fall straight through the floor and be devoured by the jaws of Satan himself just mumbles, “I’ll have the same.”

As soon as Richie had stopped outside the door of the fancy French restaurant, Eddie had wanted to cry. Richie hadn’t let him go home to change, assuring him that his costume would be perfectly fine attire for wherever they were going.

Richie was a liar.

Eddie had gone into the bathroom of the restaurant and fiercely scrubbed the make-up off his face, but it hadn’t quite worked, and his face now just looked sort of grey, where all the white and black face paint had blended into each other. He comes out of the bathroom, and stalks over to the table where Richie is sat, looking entirely normal in skinny black jeans and a deep purple button-up.

“I look like a dollar store Beetlejuice,” Eddie groans as he sits back down, trying to hide as much of the costume under the table as he can.

“You look ravishing, my darling,” Richie says, fluttering his eyelashes. Eddie is sure that it was supposed to be a joke, but the way Richie said it, all deep and sincere and … it certainly didn’t sound like a joke.

“Why the fuck did you buy me this costume?

“Well, I wanted you to be a pi pie, y’know, write the all of the digits of pi around the crust, but I thought you’d take it off”

“How many digits of pi do you even know?”

“Like 300”

Eddie raises his eyebrow, and Richie rolls his eyes.

“Fine, I know … 4”

“… You went to CalTech, and you’re a high school math teacher, and you only know four digits of pi!”

“There’s a pi button on the calculator, I don’t need to know it!”

“You’re a fucking nightmare,” Eddie says through his laughter, and Richie grins at him.

The food arrives promptly and it’s good, the best food Eddie had eaten in a long time, and he wolfs it down embarrassingly quickly. As is expected when two teachers spend more than four minutes together, the conversation turns to why they decided to become math teachers.

“I went to MIT on a scholarship, and I graduated top of my class as you know, and when I graduated I was pressured into taking a doctoral programme in fluid mechanics, but I lasted only two months before I dropped out because I hated the bureaucracy of it all, y’know, and I wanted to make a difference in kid’s lives, as cheesy as that sounds,” Eddie says between slurps of his soup.

Richie nods, “Yeah, my reason is pretty similar. I had ADHD, or, I guess I still do, but I take meds now so it’s easier to cope with, but yeah, all my teachers fucking hated me and didn’t have any patience with me. They didn’t bother spending more than two seconds trying to work out the best way to teach me, so I was sort of on my own all through my education, and I couldn’t bear the thought of that happening to anyone else, so I put myself through the torturous teaching degree and here I am!”

Eddie looks at Richie, really looks at him for the first time. Richie’s sat opposite him, shovelling mushrooms into his mouth and there’s sauce on his chin and he’s got red paint on his arm and he looks beautiful.

– x –

They both get far drunker than they meant to. They’re not catatonic, and they can still walk in a straight line, but Eddie knows there’s no way in hell that he’ll be able to drive home safely. He tries to get a cab from the restaurant, but Richie insists that Eddie stays with him. Eddie uhms and ahhs about it, stranger danger stranger danger! echoing in his drunk brain, but he throws caution to the wind and agrees to stay. He does, however, insist that he’s sleeping on the couch before Richie can even mention alternative sleeping arrangements.

Richie tries anyway, “we can top and tail, or you can have my bed, honest, I’ll sleep on the floor I don’t mind,” but Eddie’s having none of it. They hail a cab, and both clamber into the back seat. They sit in comfortable silence for the duration of the journey, but at one point Richie’s hand finds its way to Eddie’s knee, sending Eddie’s heart into overdrive.

When they get back to Richie’s, Richie rushes into his bedroom to grab Eddie some stuff to sleep in, sweatpants and a t-shirt with Da Vinci’s Vitruvian man on it. After calling Richie a nerd, and then asking if he could have a shower, and then having to ask Richie to show him how the shower works, Eddie stands under the boiling torrent of water and sighs, but before too long he can hear this odd scraping noise, accompanied by the occasional BANG. He puts it down to him being drunk, and finishes up in the shower. He towel dries his hair, running his fingers through it a few times to get rid of any knots, and puts on the clothes Richie leant to him which are, predictably, far too big. When he emerges from the bathroom, he’s greeted with the sight of a vaguely sweaty looking Richie leaning on the couch, which is now on its side, lodged in the doorway of Richie’s bedroom.

“It’s stuck”

“I can see that”

“Gimme a hand, Eds?”

Eddie leans on the sofa and gives it an almighty shove, and after a fair bit of effort from both of them, the sofa slides through the door and into Richie’s bedroom.

“Care to tell me why the couch is now in your bedroom and no longer in the living room?”

“Halloween magic!”

“… I literally helped you shove it in here two seconds ago”

“Like I said, Halloween magic!” Richie says, already flitting around his room, picking up rogue shoes and pairs of jeans and throwing them into the already overflowing laundry basket.

Richie ends up shoving his bed right over into the corner of the room so he can position the couch next to it, so when Eddie lies on it he’ll be facing Richie. Eddie finds all of this unbearably cute, but he’s exhausted so he falls onto the couch and makes grabby hands for the blanket Richie’s holding. Richie drapes it over Eddie with this dopy expression on his face that Eddie would have ribbed him for if he hadn’t been so sleepy.

“Thanks for taking me out, Rich. I had a really great day”

“It was my pleasure, Mr Spaghetti”

“Rich?”

“Hmm?”

“You were a cute ghost”

“Aw shucks, sugar, you’re making me blush”

Eddie smacks his lips sleepily, before stretching out his legs, “ghosts can’t blush, they don’t have any blood”

Richie laughs, and says “so fuckin’ cute” under his breath, and Eddie guesses he didn’t mean for him to hear, but he does hear, and it makes his heart skip in his chest.

Several minutes pass, and Eddie guesses Richie has fallen asleep, and he’s on the very brink of sleep himself when Richie breaks the silence.

“Eds? You asleep?”

“Yes”

“Sorry, sorry, go back to sleep”

“You gotta tell me what you wanted now, that’s the rule”

“The rule?”

“The rule that goes, ‘when you wake someone up to tell them something, you can’t then not tell them’. It’s a sacred, ancient rule,” Eddie replies, knowing he’s not making much sense, but finding it hard to care.

“Ah okay,” Richie says, solemnly, “I won’t break your ancient rule. I just wanted to ask if you were free next weekend?”

“Nope,” Eddie responds, immediately.

Silence.

“…Oh”

“Are you free next weekend?”

“What?”

“It’s my turn to ask you out. So, are you free next weekend?”

“… What just happened?”

“Just go with it! Are you free?”

“…Yes?”

“Good! I’m taking you out”

“You’re a strange little spaghetti, aren’t you”

“I’m tired leave me alone,” Eddie yawns.

Richie leans out of his bed, and presses a chaste kiss to Eddie’s forehead.

“Sleep well, Eds”

– X –

Eddie wakes up the next morning with a pounding head and a dry mouth. He panics initially, not recognising the room but he soon remembers that he’s lying on a couch in Richie Tozier’s bedroom and then he’s … still panicking a bit. Richie isn’t in his bed, and Eddie can hear singing coming from the kitchen, so he pads out into the kitchen, Richie’s too-long sweatpant legs covering his feet.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes in the morning, Mr Spaghetti,” Richie sing-songs, scraping something burnt and bad-smelling into the bin.

“Hullo, Rich. What’s cooking?”

“It was an omelette but now … sad, burnt eggs,” Richie says, staring sadly at the black mess coating the bottom of the pan.

“Cereal?” Eddie suggests, and Richie beams at him.

“Cereal!”

Richie pours them bowls of cereal, and they sit in comfortable silence.

“Thanks for letting me stay last night,” Eddie says, droplets of milk spilling out of his mouth.

“Oh, no problem. You might have to help me move the couch back out here though”

Eddie snorts into his bowl, “you’re such an idiot, Rich”

“It’s endearing though, right?” Richie asks, sending a pantomime wink over to Eddie

“Eh, you say endearing, I say ridiculous”

“Tomayto, tomahto”

They finish up their cereal and Eddie helps Richie haul the couch back into the living room. Eventually, Eddie remembers that he has to go home to grade papers and make arrangements for the next practice mathletics heat, so he gets changed back into his own clothes, and leaves the clothes he borrowed from Richie in a neat pile on the bathroom counter.

They both stand awkwardly at the front door, Eddie’s hand on the door-knob, neither moving, neither saying anything. Eddie breaks the awkwardness with a hug, and they stand there for a while, Eddie’s hands wrapped around Richie’s neck, before Eddie reaches up on his tippytoes and presses a kiss to Richie’s cheek. It makes him feel like an idiot schoolgirl, but the way Richie’s face flushes scarlet makes him feel a bit better.

– X –

Eddie takes a big risk, and enters his kids into the qualifying heat of the Mathletics Olympiad, a state-wide mathletics competition. They win their first qualifying heat by a significant margin, and Eddie cries again. Richie phones him in the evening;

“I hear that Southview won their qualifier!”

“We did!”

“Did you cry again?”

“…”

“… No”

“You did, didn’t you?”

“… maybe”

“You’re so cute”

“Shut up”

“Never. I’m proud of you, y’know”

“Eh? I didn’t do anything, it was all their hard work”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think a lot of teachers woulda’ taken a chance on kids from a school like yours”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what I meant, Eds, I just meant that I can’t imagine many math teachers from struggling schools would have bothered running a math club, let alone pushing their kids to mathletes”

“Well … they’re bright kids”

“I know they are, and they’ve got you cheering them on from the side lines. I hope they know how lucky they are”

“I didn’t realise you were such a sap”

“I’m getting mushy in my old age”

They talk on the phone for hours, and Eddie ends up falling asleep with the call still connected. When he wakes up, he sees that he has a text from Richie;

From: You Nerd <3:

Are you a 45 degree angle? Because you're acute-y.

To: You Nerd <3:

I was wondering when you’d break out the acute jokes

To: You Nerd <3:

Running out of material?

From: You Nerd:

NEVER!

Eddie’s school keeps winning the mathletics heats, and soon enough, they win the semi-finals by a ten point lead and Eddie cries down the phone to Richie, who immediately demands that they go out to celebrate. Eddie gets the subway in because he knows he’ll probably get drunk again, and they go to a cocktail bar that has a lively atmosphere, with Lo-Fi beats wafting through the air like smoke.

Eddie sits down at a booth at Richie’s insistence, who then disappears off to the bar to order their first drinks. Richie comes back carrying two glasses, having bought himself an old fashioned, and he orders Eddie a Tequila Sunrise. Richie manages to get half way through it, but as he drinks more, he starts looking visibly sickened by it, making involuntary faces of disgust.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks, knowing exactly what’s wrong.

“This is disgusting”

Eddie laughs, an ugly honking sound that makes Richie double-take, “why did you order it?”

“… I thought it’d be cool and I wanted you to think I was sophisticated”

Eddie, who had been toying with his sickly sweet drink, wordlessly swapped the glasses in front of them, and sipped at the old fashioned with a quirked eyebrow.

“How emasculating,” Richie said, voice cracking in the middle, a wry smile appearing on his face.

“So, I heard on the grapevine that we’ll be going toe to toe in the mathletics final?” Eddie asks, downing the last of the bitter cocktail.

“Talking shop on a date? Very disappointing, Spaghetti”

“Is that what this is?” Eddie challenges, locking eyes with Richie, who shuffles closer on the sofa.

“… Was it not obvious?”

“It was, I just wanted to make you squirm”

Richie gasps, scandalised. “You’re a scoundrel, Mr Spaghetti”

“Do you wanna make another wager?” Eddie asks, Dutch courage flowing through his veins.

“Mayhaps, what do you have in mind?”

Eddie gathers up their empty glasses, and stands up to head to the bar. As he walks past Richie’s chair, he leans in to whisper in his ear, “If you win, I’ll let you go on top”

He walks off to the bar, cackling to himself, and orders two more of the same drinks. When he returns to the table, Richie looks whiplashed, and stares at him with wide, owlish eyes

“Were you serious?” Richie asks, voice low and gravelly, like Eddie had punched him in the throat.

“… No, maybe, no, I don’t think I was, I’m very drunk”

“You’ve had one drink”

“I am very drunk”

– X –

Eddie goes back to Richie’s again that evening. He justifies it to himself with the fact that it’s too cold to walk all the way back to his apartment. It’s a shitty excuse, because really he isn’t ready to say goodnight to Richie yet. When they get into his apartment, Richie nudges the couch with his foot coyly.

“I guess we have to move the couch again?”

“Naw, c’mon, we’ll top and tail it,” Eddie responds, nodding at the door to Richie’s bedroom.

Eddie borrows the same clothes as before, which Richie admits that he washed and stored in hope that Eddie would come and stay again.

Suddenly, they’re hugging. Eddie isn’t sure who initiated it, but they’re standing in the middle of Richie’s bedroom, the lights are off, and Eddie’s face is nestled in the crook of Richie’s neck. Richie is humming, a soft sort of melody that Eddie vaguely recognises, and he’s swaying them back and forth slightly. When Eddie feels like he’s falling asleep standing up, Richie guides him over to the bed, and guides him down so his head is on the pillow.

Richie pulls the duvet up around Eddie’s chin, and when he moves away, Eddie murmurs “fuck it” and surges up and kisses Richie. Richie doesn’t kiss back at first, and Eddie feels the oh fuck deep in his gut, but just as he’s about to pull away, Richie’s hands come up to cradle Eddie’s face, and he starts kissing back.

There was no pretence to the kiss, no pretending to take it slow or act reserved, as Richie pushed Eddie backwards against the pillow until he was supine with Richie bracketing his head with his arms. Eventually the kisses organically grow less heated, and they roll over onto their sides, and Eddie falls asleep with Richie pressing small clandestine kisses to his nose, cheeks, forehead.

– x –

When Eddie wakes up, Richie is still in bed with him, perhaps because Eddie has trapped Richie underneath his body sometime in the night. After Eddie stares at his face for a while, watching his nostrils flare with each inhale and exhale of breath, Richie wakes up.

“G’morning, sleepy,” Richie mumbles, grabbing Eddie’s hand and pressing a dry kiss to it with chapped lips.

“Pretty sure you’re the sleepy one, I’ve been awake for ages”

“And who is the one who fell asleep in the middle of the smooch session last night?”

“What?” Eddie questions, playing at confused.

“… um... y’know, when we were kissing last night and you fell asleep in the middle of it?”

“We kissed?”

“Do you – do you not remember?”

“No!”

“Uh… I don’t know what to tell you, Eddie” Richie says, panicked, and Eddie starts feeling cruel.

“I’m fucking with you, of course I remember”

Richie growls and flips Eddie over, and cages Eddie’s head with his arms, “you’re such a little shit”

Before Eddie can answer, Richie kisses him. Eddie buries his fingers in Richie’s hair and gives an experimental tug, smiling around the moan that Richie sends rocketing into this throat.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot, Eds, Jesus,” Richie moans, before clamping his teeth down on the junction between Eddie’s neck and shoulders.

Eddie’s cock jerks in his sweatpants, and his hands fly to Richie’s shoulders, knuckles white.

“Ahhh – fuck Rich – don’t – make sure it’ll – ahhhh – be covered by my shirt”

“When I saw you on that first day, in your loafers and your dress pants and that fucking sweater looking all prim and proper I just wanted to mess you up”

Richie bites at Eddie again, but he pulls off, and stares down at Eddie. Eddie knows he looks wrecked, his hair is probably a mess, and his eyes keep rolling back when Richie shifts against him, but the way Richie is looking at him, an oxymoronic predatory yet soft look, suggests that Richie doesn’t mind too much.

They kiss like touch-starved teenagers for a while longer, until Eddie’s school alarm blares from the bedside table.

“Cock-block” Richie growls, batting at the phone with the hand that wasn’t wrapped loosely around Eddie’s neck.

Eventually, they manage to haul themselves out of bed. Eddie asks to use the shower again and wildly thinks about asking Richie to join him, the promise of Richie’s body, warm, wet and soapy against his overwhelmingly tempting, but he chickens out at the last minute. Eddie puts on the clothes he wore last night, and prays that Bev won’t mention it, even though he knows that she will.

“I can pick you up later, if you like … since you don’t have your car and all,” Richie offers, hopping on one foot as he tried to lace up his boot.

“I can ask Bev to drop me back, it’s all good”

“Naw, I – I wanna do it. I don’t think I wanna wait that long to see you again,” Richie says, putting his booted foot down and crowding Eddie against the wall.

“You big sap”

Richie wraps Eddie in his arms, and presses a kiss to the top of his head, “I told ya, mushy.”

Richie drives Eddie to his school, and Eddie hops out of the car. He walks around to Richie’s side and taps on the window, Richie rolls it down, Eddie shoves his head in through the window and presses a hard kiss to Richie’s mouth, but skips off before Richie can respond.

Richie hollers after him, “HAVE A GOOD DAY AT SCHOOL, MY LOVE!” and Eddie flips him off over his shoulder.

School passes quickly, it’s the week before the finals of the Mathletics Olympiad so basically all of Eddie’s time is taken up with that.

Richie picks him up from school as promised, but Eddie is disappointed to hear that he can’t come into Eddie’s apartment.

“I actually have to go back to school, I snuck out of a meeting to drive you home but I have to go back to my mathletics group”

“Rich! You should have let me ask Bev!” Eddie scolds, but his heart sings like a sparrow in his chest.

“But then I couldn’t have done this,” Richie says, and he surges over the gearbox and presses his mouth to Eddie’s.

They kiss until Richie starts shifting uncomfortably, gear stick poking into his ribs.

– X –

The next week is unadulterated chaos. Both Eddie and Richie are really busy, and can’t see each other before the competition. Eddie can’t help but feel really weird about the fact his school will be going up against Richie’s for such an important competition, and he wants to talk to Richie about it but Richie has been so hard to reach the past few days bc he’s been so busy so Eddie leaves it. He occupies himself with booking transport to the venue, reassuring his kids that they do deserve to be there, and trying not to neglect the rest of his AP classes.

The day of the final comes not a moment too soon, as Eddie is sure that his heart would give out if he put it under any more stress. The final is being held in the auditorium of a local university, so Eddie drives the shitty little school bus over there with his kids who are terrified. Bev works hard to keep their spirits up, as she’s taken over the role of chief motivator as Eddie is stupidly nervous, and he can barely concentrate on driving, let alone motivating 10 terrified kids.

They get to the university, and Eddie immediately notices that Richie’s school bus is already in the parking lot. They go in, they register, they go backstage and sit in the room designated to their school to prepare in. Eddie works hard to calm down his very panicked kids, whilst Bev simultaneously tries to calm down a very panicked Eddie.

Suddenly, Richie’s head appears around the door.

“Mr Kaspbrak, can I talk to you for a second?”

Eddie follows Richie out, “Rich, it really is so lovely to see you, but I’m also terrified to see you, so I think it’s best if you–”

Richie cuts Eddie off with a kiss, and Eddie can’t help but melt into it, tension draining out of his bones like water. Sadly, as soon as the kiss begins, Richie is pulling off again.

“Sorry, babe. See you ringside, coach!”

Richie darts off, and Eddie just has to lean against the wall and breathe.

– X –

Eddie’s kids win.

Eddie immediately bursts into tears.

Jasper, the team gives a rousing acceptance speech when he accepts the trophy, “we’re really proud of ourselves, the other team were amazing and we feel so honoured to be here today, it’s a privilege.”

To Eddie’s horror, they bring the mic over to the coach, announcing that “we will now a word hear a word from the coach of the championship team.”

Eddie has to stumble on stage, puffy and red faced, and he’s tries his best to speak through his tears, but all he manages to do is sob something incomprehensible, loud and sort of proud sounding into the microphone. The audience looks bemused and vaguely concerned, but Richie, who was standing on the other side of the stage with his team, is crying with laughter.

Soon after the presenting ceremony, there is the refreshment reception for the winning team. The kids all mill about, hyper on candy, sugary drinks and triumphant victory. Eddie manages to drag Richie into a secluded corner, where they can talk without risk of being overheard. Richie grasps Eddie’s hand and squeezes it.

“I’m so proud of you, short-stack”

“Short-stack?!” Eddie replies, incredulously, “I’m five-foot-nine thank you very much!”, but then he sees Bev waving to him frantically, so he sends a quick “see you later” to Richie over his shoulder as he runs off towards her.

– X –

Eddie sleeps like the dead that night, and he finds himself recruited into a celebration pep rally for the mathletics team the next day so doesn’t have time to think, breathe or eat or even text Richie.

Finally, when he gets home, he’s half way through texting Richie --

To: Short Stack:

Hey Rich, sorry I had to run last night,

-- but he doesn’t manage to get any further than that before he can hear shouting coming from outside of his window.

“I fear that I will always be a lonely number like root 3, a three is all that’s good an right, why must my 3 stay out of sight, beneath this vicious square root sign”

Richie is standing on the grass beneath Eddie’s window, swaying slightly, with a megaphone clasped between both hands, and he’s screaming into it.

“I wish instead I were a nine, for nine could thwart this evil trick, with just some quick arithmetic,”

“Are you really doing this? The Harold and Kumar thing?” Eddie yells out of his window, in disbelief.

“I know I’ll never see the sun as 1.7321, such is my reality, a sad irrationality, when hark, what is this I see?”

“So you are doing the Harold and Kumar thing”

Richie, undeterred, carries on yelling, “another square of a three, has quietly come waltzing by, together now we multiply, to form a number we prefer, rejoicing as an integer”

“I never thought I’d be serenaded with a maths poem, oh, you’re shouting over me, okay, please do continue”

“We break free from our mortal bonds, and with a wave of magic wands, our square root signs become unglued, and love, for me, has been renewed”

“Are you done? You’re done. Richie, are you okay?” Eddie asks, openly laughing now.

“I’m sorry if I said something bad!” Richie yells, still talking into the megaphone. Eddie can see the lights of his neighbours houses begin to flick on.

“For fucks sake, you lunatic! I have neighbours! Neighbours who probably hate me now!”

Eddie runs downstairs and opens the door, and Richie practically launches himself at Eddie.

“I’m sorry I upset you,” Richie whines, and Eddie is shocked to realise that he’s practically on the verge of tears.

“You do know I was crying about my kids, right? Not anything you said?” Eddie responds, voice serious.

“But I called you short!” Richie wails, looking so devastated that Eddie finds it so hard not to bark out a laugh.

“… I know I’m short?”

“But you ran awaaaaaay”

“One of the kids had eaten too much and had thrown up, Bev needed me to clean up the vom!”

Richie’s face shifts from sorrow to confusion to realisation to embarrassment at the speed of sound.

“so you don’t hate me?” Richie asks, tentatively.

Eddie pulls himself out of Richie’s arms and strokes his chin thoughtfully, “I mean … I don’t hate you but my neighbours might”

“Neighbours schmaybors, so you really aren’t offended that I called you short?”

Eddie lets himself laugh at that, “how drunk are you?”

Richie shrugs. “I had some wines. I was drowning my sorrows! I honestly thought I’d offended you and I was ready to scream apologies into this thing for hours,” he says, waving the megaphone for emphasis

“You’re such a nerd,” Eddie teases, prodding at Richie’s chest with an extended finger, and Richie sweeps him up in his arms.

“Yeah, but I’m your nerd”

“I guess you are”

Richie ducks his head, and Eddie closes his eyes in anticipation but their lips never connect.

“Hey! I have a great line for this situation”

“Oh Jesus Christ”

“I wish I was your derivative so I could lie tangent to your curves”

“You NERD”

#reddie #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak #acute-y #math teacher au #school au #teacher au #thefutureisbright #ao

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hispeculiartreasure · 5 years

Text

All We’ve Got is Time - Chapter Fifteen | B.B.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

AU: If They’d Survived/Post-War/Window Washer!Bucky Barnes

Rating: Teen

Word count: 4,300

Chapter 15/24

Warnings: Language, PTSD symptoms, lots of angst, Bucky is sad, allusions to horrible war time, self-loathing, etc.

AN: It’s hard to articulate exactly why this chapter was so hard for me to write. My own mental health played a big part in it, but there was something deeper I was forced to work through when confronted with their heavy conversation. Forever shoutout to my relentless cheerleader @lucyyannabel. I’m blessed to have @barnesrogersvstheworld in my life, who put a finger on my doubts and worries of this chapter and gently shooed them away. May we all have an Attie in our life who so ardently tells you how valuable and loved you are. And you are, Reader. I promise. Love you.

Chapter Fourteen

‘All We’ve Got is Time’ Masterlist

“Chevrolet Corporate, Anderson’s desk, how may I help you?” you rattle off into your desk phone’s handset, distracted by the rough draft of a memo your boss had tossed on your desk with little instruction.

“Hey, baby.”

The paper falls from your fingertips. “Buc-? Hi, wh- are you okay?”

You hear a sigh and then, “Sorry to call you at work, I know it could get you in trouble. Wanted to catch you early.”

It doesn’t escape your notice that he hadn’t answered your question. “What can I do for you today, sir?” You phrase the question again, warily eyeing Flannery across the office.

“‘M gonna have to bow out of dinner tonight. I know it’s my second time this week, I’m just absolutely beat, think I may be getting sick. I’m leaving work right now. Wouldn’t be much fun company.”

“Oh,” you deflate in your chair. “We’re sorry to hear that, sir. Is there anything we could do to accommodate you? Perhaps an alteration to the proposed agenda?”

“I don’t think so. Just wanna be home and go to sleep. I’m sorry, I know we haven’t seen each other this week. I’ll make it up to you.”

You keep your voice professional, shoving down your disappointment. “There’s no need for that, sir. I’ll make note of the change in schedule and be in touch at a later date to confirm with your office.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Feel better,” you whisper before setting the receiver down. Something in his tone haunts you the rest of the morning and well into the lunch hour. You don’t hear the break room’s topic of debate as you push your leftovers aimlessly around your pyrex. A bitter taste had settled in your mouth after the unexpected phone call.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Suzy slides into the seat next to you, sounding too casual for your taste.

“Got a lot on my mind.” You chew another mouthful of fruit in contemplation.

“This have to do with your dreamboat?”

“I’m really not in the mood today, Suze.”

“That’s fine. But are you okay?”

Chewing your lip, you turn to her. Her red curls had a little extra bounce but her eyes betrayed her concern for you. “Not really. I can’t put my finger on it, but something’s not right with him. I can’t shake the idea that he’s avoiding me.”

“Did anything specific happen? You guys have a fight?”

“No fighting. . . though he acted strangely after our last date.”

“Strange how?”

The yellow and orange leaves beneath your feet had a distinct crunch to them synonymous with the time of year. It had been a standard evening out for the two of you: comfort food from the diner, a shared piece of pie, and a stroll along the streets. Now that the temperature had been dropping slowly, you could nestle closer to each other.

“‘M just saying, you’ve picked the pie the last few times, I’m past due to choose the flavor.”

“But Bucky, you pick blackberry every time, I’m giving us some variety!” you protested.

“Why would you stray from a pie that never fails you? One that never gives up, that truly strives to be its best for us-”

“Are you eating this pie or marrying it?”

“It’s crossed my mind.”

Your giggles and his chuckles echoed, the street lamps lighting your way home.

“I don’t know why you’re with me then, sounds like pie is your true-”

A loud pop shattered the peace of the night and Bucky went rigid. Before you knew what was happening a shove knocked the breath out of you and you ended up several steps behind your boyfriend. He’d grabbed a pipe out of a nearby trash can, ready to wield it against anyone.

“Buck, it’s okay.” You reached out to grab his shoulder and he immediately jerked away from you, chest heaving. “Hon, it was just a car back-firing.”

His eyes were wide and terrified, grip tight on the pipe.

“We’re okay, Buck. We’re safe, nothing is going to hurt us.”

“Right. Sorry. That . . . was an overreaction.”

“You alright?” you stepped toward him. “I know you-”

He took a surreptitious step backward. “I’m fine, uh. . . yeah, I’m fine. Oh, and your door’s right here.”

“Bucky, you’re not-”

“I’m good, really. I’ll see you in a few days, right? Hope you sleep well.”

Decidedly distracted, he brushed his lips against your forehead and took off down the street, loosening his tie. Watching him leave kicked up a storm of confusion in your mind.

“And I haven’t seen him since,” you conclude, leaning forward to put your head in your hands.

The gentle hand on your back surprises you but you don’t shy away from the comfort. “It’s gonna be okay, babydoll. We all go through stuff, sounds like his stuff is a little heavy right now.”

“Then why isn’t he asking me to help?”

That’s the question still on your mind when you get home from work that night and make a call to Steve and Bucky’s apartment.

“Sorry ma’am, no one’s answering at the residence,” the operator drones in your ear. “Is there another number you’d like me to call?”

“No, thank you.” You stare at the telephone as if it had personally offended you, eyebrows knit closely together, arms crossed.

Somewhere in the space of the last three weeks you had messed up, done something to send Bucky running for the hills. You wrack your brain for an explanation, an event or conversation that was even the slightest bit terse. Coming up empty you sigh and force yourself to continue about your evening.

One day passes with no word from Bucky.

Another day goes by silently.

At the end of the third day you find yourself staring at the phone again, debating your next move.

A girl was allowed to call her boyfriend, right? Especially after not having seen each other in a while, at least to say hi and catch up on the day - and he said he was sick, surely it was alright, even expected to check on him. You reach for the handset.

Then again, he’d clearly been sending signals that something wasn’t right, perhaps you should just leave it alone. You snatch your hand back to yourself, drawing it up to pick at your lip nervously.

But Steve, on the other hand. . .

Shockingly, the line connects.

“Hullo?”

“Steve? It’s me.”

“Hey,” Steve’s voice warms, “you wanna talk to Buck?”

“I actually wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh, okay. What’s going on?”

You twist a finger around the phone cord, digging for the right words. “Is Bucky okay?”

“‘Okay’?” you can practically see his forehead wrinkled in confusion.

“I’m not sure why, but he’s been distant over the last few weeks. I don’t know if it’s me or what, but is he safe? Is he okay?”

“He’s, uh. . .” Steve lowers his voice. “He’s been better. Seems to be having a tough time. I thought you knew that, though.”

“No, I haven’t seen him for two weeks.”

“Really?” Clearly as shocked as you were, his tone turns suspicious. “He’s been avoiding me too. In passing he mentioned that his classes have been giving him some trouble, but I figured he’d seek you out with help on that.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Me too.”

“Huh. Thanks for letting me know, lemme see what I can do from my end. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Thank you, Steve. That makes me feel better.”

“Of course. Take care of yourself, okay?”

With a smile you bid him goodbye and hang up, hoping he could make some headway.

-x-

Bucky hears Steve hang up the phone and hopes to God he’s not in for a well-meaning chit-chat.

But of course, a knock comes on Bucky’s cracked-open door, and he can’t really deny Steve entrance. Turning back to the pile of classwork on his desk, Bucky busies himself with a half-finished essay. His friend perches against the dresser, ankles and arms crossed.

Bucky scratches absentmindedly at some stubble on his cheek before grunting, “Whaddya want, Steve?”

“Your girl just called. Said she hasn’t heard from you. She’s worried.”

“Been busy.”

“That’s bullshit.” The pencil in Bucky’s hand snaps in two and he forces himself to let go of the pieces and keep his hands flexed open. “What happened, Buck?”

The aftermath of the nightmare - the first that had plagued him in several months - comes back to Bucky. He’d woken in a cold sweat, hands shaking violently, head pounding. Banging out of his room he’d sprinted for the bathroom faucet, dousing his face in ice cold water to shock his senses back to him. Light sleeper that he was, Steve was there in seconds. Bucky had snapped at him when asked what was wrong, had told him to leave him be. He should’ve known Steve wouldn’t leave it for long.

With effort, Bucky spits out, “The day we took Fischer down.” Any additional detail would have been Bucky’s undoing; he knew Steve could connect the dots.

The blond brings up a hand to cover his mouth, heaving a deep breath. “Yeah, that one’s given me nightmares too.”

“Does it? You don’t show it.”

“We’ve pretended not to hear each others’ nightmares for a long time, pal, no use continuing that charade.”

Silence stretches between them for several minutes. Bucky stewing, Steve waiting.

“Why was it them and not us, Steve?”

Steve knew ‘them’ wasn’t just the girl at the church, wasn’t attached to a singular person or event - ‘them’ stood for every life lost in the war that had stripped the world bare of too many things to count.

“I wish I could tell you.”

Clearing the emotion from his throat, Bucky’s next question surprises Steve. “How do you not let it eat you up?”

Shaking his head, Steve replies, “Some days it does. You know I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve, but I try to talk about it. With you, with Peg, sometimes one of the other guys. If you let it stay in your head, it only grows bigger.”

“I don’t know if I can do that right now.”

“That’s okay. And it doesn’t have to be me you talk to if you don’t want. But do me a favor?”

Bucky finally shifts in his chair to look Steve directly in the eye, lifting a brow as if to ask “And what would that favor be?”

“Don’t shut her out. You know you can’t scare her away. Obviously she wants to be part of your life, so let her. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

As messed up as I am, is it fair to her to drag her down with me?

-x-

Bucky was grateful for the quiet apartment - Steve was away on business, his classwork was in a lull, and the day’s work had drained him. All he wanted was to eat and fall into bed. The thought of skipping another meal tempted him as he dreamed of what could possibly be a restful night of sleep.

Soft knocks at the front door startle him away from his bedroom. Slowly, he steps to the door in socked feet. Pressing an eye to the peephole, his heart drops into his stomach and threatens to pound right out of his body. You’re waiting on the other side, fiddling with something in your hands.

You look nervous.

“Bucky?” How could a voice feel like home but also make him dizzy with anxiety? Letting his forehead rest against the door, he realizes how much he’s missed the sound.

He can feel the second rap of knuckles reverberate through his head. Your voice wraps around him again.

Open the door, Barnes. She’s right there. You need her.

Shame whispers, “But does she need you as a burden? Does she need this broken man in her life?”

A voice that sounded like Steve urges him to open the door, to let himself be vulnerable.

The doorknob tenses under his grip.

But he doesn’t move. He can’t.

“I don’t know if you’re even home right now, but uh. . .” he hears you sniffle, prompting his eye to focus again on the peephole. You wipe at your cheek - Bucky convinces himself it couldn’t be because of him. “I got something for ya. You mentioned in one of your letters that writing things down cleared your mind, helped you move past things. And while I don’t really know if you’re going through something or just want to be alone for whatever reason. . . I just hope this helps.”

You stoop down, setting whatever you’d been holding against the door. Straightening, you turn to leave, pause, then face the door again. “I miss you, ya know.”

Hesitant footsteps retreat down the breezeway, your tread easy and familiar in his mind.

Only after counting out a few minutes Bucky cracks the door open. A small packages falls to his feet with a surprisingly solid thud. He nudges the door closed and pulls at the twine, then the brown paper wrapping.

Shaky fingers feel at the strong, yet simple leather cover of a journal. He flips through the unlined pages, mind reeling at your memory of something he couldn’t recall mentioning to you. Forcing air into his lungs he cradles the book as if it were a priceless artifact; maybe for him it was.

Opening to the first page his eyes are immediately drawn to black ink, to your familiar handwriting.

Whether it’s with me or without me, I hope you find peace.

You’d left your initials beneath the note, as if he ever would have questioned whose hand had written the inscription. He lets out a humorless laugh before his knees weaken. Letting himself be taken to the floor, he leans against the door, clutching the journal to his chest.

And on the floor of his empty apartment where he wept the full anguish of his soul, it was a lifeline.

-x-

This was a bad idea. I should go home. This is stupid.

Bucky’s foot taps against the sidewalk outside of your work building impatiently. He’d been there a few minutes already, knowing your schedule like the back of his hand. A deep urge to finally speak with you had brought him this far, though he was fighting the pull to run back home.

Just as he had convinced himself to turn around, you emerge from the front door and he’s frozen in place.

The notion of home floats through his mind as he watches you, hair only slightly rumpled from your day of work. Poised, graceful as ever, a true striking presence on the sidewalk - earning more turned heads than you would ever be aware of.

So focused on making sure your hat was perfectly in place, you don’t notice Bucky until he’s right next to you.

“Hi,” his mind goes blank as he stares into your eyes, wide as dinner plates at his sudden appearance.

“Bucky. . . uh, hi,” you stammer. “Wh-what’re you-”

“Can I walk you home?”

“Y-yeah, absolutely.”

Together, you traverse the deeply familiar path home, though a pace apart.

“How’s the family?” you ask, reaching for an innocuous subject to fill the dead air.

“Uh, good. I’ve missed the last few Sunday dinners, but I assume everything is fine.”

“Oh.”

“Are you - you doing alright?”

“I’m . . . okay. Been a long few weeks.”

He watches the ground as you walk, the click of your heels on pavement bringing sweeter memories to the forefront of his mind. But then the rhythmic sound stops and he looks up, shocked to see your apartment. You’ve turned to face him and his eyes are drawn to how you’re picking at your cuticles.

“Can we sit?” you motion to the brick steps leading up to your door. He nods and you perch on the stairs, closer to each other than you’d been for weeks. “Bucky. . .”

“Yeah?”

“I. . .” you turn your eyes back to your fiddling fingers in your lap. “I just need to know if this,” you gesture between you, “is over so I can not think of you as mine anymore. If it is, I can handle it and move on.”

Bucky’s mouth hangs open, at a loss for words. You take that as a cue to continue.

“But if this isn’t over. . . you don’t have to meet my parents next month, if that freaked you out. Or if I came on too strong when you got back from Pennsylvania, I can back off. Just. . .” your eyes finally move to meet his and the uncertainty in them was foreign to him, “tell me what I did wrong so I don’t do it again?”

His mind reels as he sits back to take a long look at you. You were serious. You genuinely thought this was a result of something you’d done - but why would you think any differently?

You don’t know how not seeing you left an aching hole in his chest. You don’t know how often he thought of you, how many times he’d frozen when the operator had asked who he’d wanted to be connected to only to hang up. You don’t know about the wad of cash in his sock drawer for which he had sparkling ambitions. Without knowing that, what other conclusion were you supposed to draw?

“I’m such an ass,” he mutters aloud, much to your furthered confusion. After dragging hands harshly down his face he threads his fingers in yours. “Sweetheart, this hasn’t been about you, not in the slightest.”

“Then what is it about? If it wasn’t something I did, what happened?” Your grip on his hands almost breaks his heart completely - like you were scared he’d bolt if you let go.

Words stick in his throat and he swallows in an attempt to dislodge the lump that had formed there.

“Buck, it’s me. You can say it.”

“I. . . I don’t even know where I’d start.”

“The beginning?” you gently suggest.

At your urging, he begins haltingly, stumbling over words, hoping he was making some kind of sense. “Uhhh. The night after we spent the day at the garage together. I had a nightmare, a memory of being in Europe. A young woman died - she died because of me. It felt like I was there again. I could feel the cold air and the smell of. . . I relived it that night. The days seemed to get worse after that.”

Details begin to spill from his lips - slowly, then all at once. Things he couldn’t have recalled if asked suddenly were toppling into your lap, unorganized, bloody, and heavy. He recounts the sleepless nights, the images seared in his brain from the battlefront, the components of war rarely shared with civilians that had taken a good portion of his innocence and good conscience.

Pausing, he clears his throat and scratches his chin. “It’s hard to talk about,” he admits in a low voice.

You’ve been silent, but present until this moment. “I know. Thank you for sharing with me.”

“The last few weeks have been a fight between wanting - no, needing - you to bring some light into my life; and living in fear that my darkness may snuff your own light out. I can’t take you down with me, you don’t deserve that.”

“Don’t I get a say in it?”

Tears prick at the corners of his eyes and he withdraws a hand from yours to dash at them. “I hate this,” he sniffles. “I thought I was getting better, that this was behind me. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what, being human?”

“For being like this when my life has gotten better. I’ve been home for so long, I should be past this by now.”

Your hands are on his cheeks, tilting his head to look into your eyes again. “Says who? Honey, things like this, it’s not a simple trip from point A to point B. This kind of healing takes time. And a backslide isn’t an indicator of failure.”

“Sure feels like I failed at something.”

“But you haven’t,” you insist firmly. He doesn’t respond and you pull your hands away, hesitantly grasping his again. “Why haven’t you been home to see your family?” you ask after a few moments of reflection.

“The girl I . . . that. . . she reminds me of my sisters. It’s hard to look at them and not see her after. . . it happened. I don’t want to attach that memory to them more than it already is.”

Your chest heaves with a long breath as if you were preparing to dive into deep water. “Your time serving, the things you saw. . . they affected you. You have to admit that.”

“It bothers me, sure, but I didn’t come back wounded. I made it in one piece, I don’t have a reason for being this shaken by it.”

“Just because you’re physically safe doesn’t mean your mind didn’t take on injuries. You’ve been through so much-”

Brusquely, he cuts you off. “My mind is fine. I’m not a coward.”

“Bucky, I know that. Everyone knows that. This isn’t about cowardice or weak minds, or whatever nonsense doctors and generals say it is. To survive what you have, to have made so much progress to get to a place where you’re working and taking care of yourself. . . it’s the strongest thing I’ve ever seen. You’ve chosen a career path. You’re almost done with the training while juggling two jobs, family, and a demanding girlfriend.” Both his lips and yours twitch at your teasing. Then you soften again. “You know I’ve seen this up-close with my uncle. You’re not alone and you’re not crazy.”

Bucky’s face must have mirrored the doubt he felt inside.

“You said Steve has episodes too right?” He nods. “Do you think that he has a weak moral character? This man, who you think the world of - do you consider him mentally fragile? No,” you answer for him as he can only shake his head. “Then why would you flip that onto yourself? Why would Steve’s hand-picked second-in-command be considered weak? You wouldn’t because you’re not.”

He couldn’t think of an argument against that - but you took his silence to be dubious.

Your voice is hesitant, unsure. “They do have psychiatric hospitals-”

“I’m not desperate enough for that.” The second the words left his mouth he hears how harsh they sound.

“Do you have to be desperate to ask for help?”

“I shouldn’t need help!” he exclaims suddenly. “Other men came back fine, Dad never went through this. I don’t know how to be this way without feeling like shit about myself. Besides, from the stories I’ve heard, what they do is more similar to torture than treatment.”

You’ve shrunken back, shoulders hunched forward as if to ward off his tone. “Okay. I won’t mention it again. I’m sorry.”

“No,” he huffs in frustration. “I should be the one that’s sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you. You’ve been to hell and back which would make anyone’s soul weary. Please be kinder to yourself.”

“I don’t deserve your kindness, let alone my own. But for some reason, Sixth Floor, you’re giving it to me in spades. I don’t understand.”

“Caring for someone doesn’t always entail what they deserve - but I assure you, you are absolutely deserving of all the patience and gentleness. You are one of the most noble men I’ve ever known.” If the conviction in your voice hadn’t rung so clear, he’d think you were full of it.

“How can you still say that after how I’ve treated you?” He doesn’t give you the chance to respond. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to lose you baby, I just, I lo. . . I love you too much. And the thought of having pushed you away makes me sick, but I won’t blame you for walking away because of how I’ve acted.”

A sad smile crosses your face as you press your forehead to his before whispering fiercely, “Love isn’t a feeling, it’s an action. I love you to the very bottom of my heart, James. Can you let me love you? Let me show you? I want to be here, if you’ll have me.”

With most of his energy channeled containing sobs, he offers a nod. Leaning in to each other, your lips unite for the first time in too long - earnest, sweet love mingled with relief pours between you.

Pulling back only slightly, Bucky’s blue eyes search your own. “I missed you,” he murmurs roughly as his thumb wipes away a tear from your chin.

“I missed you, too,” you return as the pads of your fingers swipe against his wet cheeks.

He lets that settle on his bones for future nights where he may hear whispers of doubt about you and your devotion.

“I wanna get better for you, darling.” He meant it sweet, touching, but you shake your head.

“No.”

He begins to shift away from you, your previous words with the solitary one dissonating, but a hand to the back of his neck holds him fast.

“Don’t get better for me. James Buchanan Barnes is worthy enough to get better for himself.” You interrupt what was obviously going to be a protest from him. “You’re the one that has to live with yourself. I don’t plan on going anywhere, but I also can’t fight this battle for you, as much as I wish I could.”

“I don’t know what getting better for myself even looks like.”

Your eyebrows settle into determination, a directness in your gaze. “Your training is almost done. Quit washing windows, focus on finishing well. Life is about to change for the better. Refocus, take a breather. And let the people in your life love you.”

“I. . . I’ll try.”

“That’s all I can ask. Except. . .” You bite your lip, as if pondering whether you should continue.

“What?” he prompts.

A twinkle returns to your eye and you lean in even closer, “You could shave the beard before you meet my parents or they’ll think I’m dating a hobo.”

For the first time in weeks, a laugh bubbles up through Bucky and out into the world with joy that was anything but hollow.

Chapter Sixteen

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