“You’re going to blow out your arms,” the villain observed. They watched as the hero merely grit their teeth, shoving themself through another pull-up. It looked painful, and if the sweat slicking the hero’s brow was any indication, it was.
They waited for the hero to let themself drop from the bar and accept the villain was stronger. But they didn’t.
Three more pull-ups, and the villain stepped in.
“Hero,” they said slowly. “You’re about to tear the ligaments in your arms. You need to stop.”
The hero blew out a shuddering breath. Struggled for purchase, fighting gravity—and let themself drop.
The hero’s hands were bleeding, calluses torn open by the bar. The hero didn’t seem bothered when their own hands shook so much that their blood began to splatter on the gym floor.
For a moment, the villain could only stare at them.
Shit.
They didn’t know how to handle this. They knew the hero was dedicated. They knew the hero was strong, and perpetually trying to be stronger, but they hadn’t thought…
They hadn’t thought the hero would be so willing to tear apart their own body for success.
It was supposed to be fun, the villain thought. They felt a little sick as the hero pressed their palms together to soothe the bleeding, an action that was practiced and familiar. As if they had done this before.
The hero reached for something in their bag, smearing blood on the side, and pulled out a roll of blue electrical tape. The villain didn’t understand why, until the hero tore a strip off and made to wrap their hands with it.
The hero would be the death of them.
They crouched in front of the hero, plucking the electrical tape out of their hands.
“What are you doing with this?”
The hero blinked at the villain like they were the strange one in this situation.
“Wrapping my hands?”
The villain hissed in a breath.
“With electrical tape?”
The hero flushed slightly, looking down at their bloody hands. They looked close to tears.
“It…sticks to skin, really well. And it doesn’t move, either, when you move your hands or wherever else, even if you’re fighting. Plus, blood doesn’t make it come off, at least, not for a while.”
The villain blinked at them.”
“Blood doesn’t make it come off,” the villain repeated, processing. The hero nodded, reaching for the electrical tape. The villain settled it out of reach.
“Not if you wrap it right.”
Dimly, the villain realized that meant the hero had done this enough times to have it down to a science.
“And you couldn’t use a bandaid?” The villain asked incredulously. The hero shrugged a shoulder, then winced at the motion.
Yeah, the hero had absolutely blown out their arms.
“Bandaids move—“
The villain hushed them.
“Be quiet for a second.”
The hero, wisely, went quiet.
The villain rubbed a hand over their face, then studied the hero for a moment. They took one of the hero’s hands into their own, studying the damage.
“Why did you do this to yourself,” the villain murmured.
“What do you mean, why,” the hero snapped. “It’s my job.”
“Your job is to save people,” the villain corrected. “Not destroy yourself.”
“I’m not destroying myself—“
“You are.”
“Shut up—“
“Hero.”
“I need to be better,” the hero snapped. Their voice rang out across the gym, echoing into the rafters, and they both froze. After a moment, the hero spoke again, voice soft. “I need to be better.”
They said it like they needed the villain to understand. The villain wondered who they were really saying it to—the villain, or themself.
“Better than who?”
“Everyone.” It was hushed, like a secret.
The villain watched them, waiting.
The hero took a shaky breath
“My whole thing is being the best. I have always been the best. That’s the only reason I matter. If I’m not strong enough, then I am nothing, so I need. to be. better.”
The hero had started crying, very quietly, like they were afraid to take up too much space.
The villain was not equipped to handle gifted kid burnout.
“There’s more to you than just being a good athlete,” the villain said hesitantly, and the hero shook their head.
“No. There isn’t.”
“Hero.”
“Can you give me back my electrical tape?” They hiccuped to contain a sob.
“No,” the villain said firmly, and then the hero really was sobbing.
“You don’t understand—“
The villain didn’t. Not really. They had never been the kind of talented that the hero was.
They wondered now if maybe that was a blessing.
“I don’t,” the villain agreed. “But I do understand that you’ve saved half the city, and you give everything you have to give, and you always do your best.”
“But I-“
“No.” The villain stopped them. “You are doing your best.” They tipped the hero’s chin up until they met the villain’s eyes. “And it is enough.”
The hero froze, eyes darting over the villain’s face. They wondered if anyone had ever said that to the hero, if whatever mentor they had was giving them anything other than orders to be stronger. Be better. Be more.
The villain had some new targets to take care of, it would seem.
For now, though, they had to take care of hero.
“We’re going to go wrap your hands,” they said softly. “And then we’re going to take care of your arms, and you’re going to take a nap.”
The hero nodded, watching them like they were some kind of good, selfless person.
“And if I ever catch you using electrical tape again, so help me, I will put you six feet under.”
That startled a laugh out of the hero, and they let the villain guide them to their feet.
“Fine.”
The villain turned to them. “Okay?”
Are you going to be alright?
The hero seemed to understand.
“Okay,” the hero agreed.
Yes.
And so, it was.
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hii! for the ficlet request can i ask something with mason/declan and for the trope maybe something angst with jealousy involved at the england camp? and luke long-suffering thirdwheeling them
sorry if this is so vague!! 😭 btw love your writing!! i’m devouring every thing you write you’re sooo good! thank you for sharing your work with us <3
mason mount/declan rice | jealousy ♡
“Can you please stop giving the poor kid a death stare? You’re gonna freak him out.”
Mason finally drags his gaze away from Bukayo then and settles it onto Luke who’s sat in front directly in front of him. They’re in the cafeteria at SGP grabbing breakfast before training and Mason still feels like he’s half asleep having got very little sleep last night.
“What am I supposed to do?”
He asks after finally taking a few mouthfuls from the plate in front of him, “Dec’s always over there with the Arsenal lot now. It’s like I don’t even exist.”
Luke sighs like he’s heard all this before, “Maybe don’t make Saks think you want to kill him? He genuinely asked me yesterday if you have a problem with him or something.”
Mason grimaces as he twirls his fork between him fingers, “Tell him I’m sorry. I know it’s not his fault or anything… it’s just —“
Luke’s watching him with raised, anticipatory brows.
“Like, I get it’s team bonding and all that for the new season but he’s always so excited to see me and now I feel like he’s just… not.”
“Isn’t that exactly what we’re doing right now?” Luke points out with a grin on his face and Mason scoffs, “Team bonding?”
“That’s different, we’re like—“ He folds under Luke’s amused gaze, “It’s different, okay?”
There’s a small break of silence where Luke allows him to wallow in his hypocrisy, so Mason takes the opportunity to swallow a couple more mouthfuls before the other breaks and pleads with him.
“For the love of my sanity, will you please just talk to Dec? I’m sure he’s not doing anything on purpose. You know exactly how it feels, trying to fit into an already well-established team.”
After being stared down by Luke until he finishes his food, Mason reluctantly agrees.
-
He’s never been one for confrontation.
It’s much easier to let things slip by, or to allow someone else to put themselves on the line, but this is something that no one else can do for him.
He manages to catch Dec on the way out from training, rushing his own shower and pulling on his clothes quickly to make sure that he’d be ready before him, and asks if he’ll come up to his room with him.
Hope licks in his belly when Dec smiles at him, in that broad and wide way that has never changed since they were kids, but then the other says, “Sure, I just need to find Rammers and Ben first. I said I’d—“
“Okay, stop.”
Surprising even himself with his curtness, Mason is quiet for a second to gather his thoughts as Dec watches him, surprise and concern troubling his gaze.
“I— this is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about… I kind of feel like we haven’t been so close lately and you’re always with your new teammates so it’s been kind of difficult for me to bring it up but I—“
“Mase,” Dec says as he steps into his space to grab onto Mason’s arms. Mason takes the opportunity to do the same, feeling the warmth of Dec’s skin there as his blue eyes flicker over his face, “Slow down a second. Breathe.”
The other was always good at this; helping him to calm down when there’s too many thoughts that Mason wants to voice at the same time. It’s a part of what makes him a great leader.
“You want to spend more time together?”
It almost sounds silly and menial coming out of Dec’s mouth, but the sincerity behind his eyes is what makes Mason nod, the other’s arms still grounding him. When Dec sees relief flicker across his face, he’s quick to bundle him up into a hug.
“Mase, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise I—,” He places a hand over the back of Mason’s head as he hooks his chin over Dec’s shoulder where it’s always fit so perfectly, “I’ve just been so busy trying to fit myself in with the team and I—“
“It’s fine,” Mason mumbles against his collarbone, already feeling much better now that he’s in his best friend’s arms, Dec’s warmth engulfing him, “I know.”
♡
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almost missed the second ask thingy you reblogged! can't have that, so: 😊 😇 and 😃
you’re honestly too sweet, thank u for sending these 🥺
😊: You’re sweet. You’ve made me smile before.
same!! quite a lot of times 💜
😇: Every single interaction we’ve had so far has been positive.
yessss very true, very grateful for that!!
😃: I love seeing you in my notifications!
i’m also always very happy to see you in mine!!
distract me pls: send me fanfic writing asks or an emoji
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