#and honestly this was probably just another sign to not go because my babysitter tonight was shaky to begin with

[skinreflectsthesun]

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[prettyboybarzal]

Dancing with Our Hands Tied (2)

Pairing: Pierre Luc Dubois x Reader

A/N: Hello, angels!!! Here is part two... As always, let me know what you think! Part three is almost done and will be out next Sunday at 8pm. 

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Alcohol consumption

Previous Chapter // Masterlist // Next Chapter

“You’re practically jail bait for these men, do you understand?”

“I’m 21, not 18,” Sadie protested. It was 9 p.m. on a Friday night and you were standing outside Josh’s apartment dressed for a night out. You were reading her the riot act, knowing damn well that it was probably going in one ear and out the other.

“21 is young enough,” you argued. She rolled her eyes as you continued. “If you can’t find me while we’re out, look for Josh. Or Seth. Or Boone.”

“YN, everything’s gonna be fine.”

“I really hope so.”

The entire week leading up to Sadie’s arrival was stressful to say the least. You had to childproof your entire life just to have a problem free weekend with her, and that included childproofing the boys too.

Because Josh had met Sadie plenty of times before, he was more than happy to have everyone over his house for pre-drinks. It took a weight off your shoulders because being in an enclosed space with your closest friends meant it would be easier to keep tabs on how much alcohol she was consuming. And the more people she met before hitting the club meant there were more people keeping an eye out for her, and you need all eyes on her. 

Well, almost all of them. You could do without Pierre’s.

Josh’s apartment was already loud when you arrived, which came as no surprise considering about half the Blue Jackets were inside. When you entered, Sadie gazed around at his apartment like a kid in a candy story.

“This is where Josh lives?”

“This is what a cushy job gets you in Columbus.”

“Why didn’t Mom and Dad force us to become athletes?”

You ventured into the living room and were greeted by an assortment of hoots and hollers. Josh swept Sadie up in a big hug before introducing her to the rest of the boys and some girlfriends in a pretty general introduction. Seth slipped a beer into your hand with a knowing smile that screamed, “I got you. Stop stressing.”

Pierre wasn’t there and you were naive enough to think he might’ve passed on a night out, but then the front door swung open and he was sauntering in with a rack of beers in his hand. Sadie’s eyes cut to yours as he made his rounds to say hello.

When he reached her, he came up short. He narrowed his eyes as he studied the all too familiar facial features.

“You’re YN’s sister,” he spoke. “I’m assuming you already hate me.”

“More or less.”

“I’ll have fun trying to prove you wrong tonight then.”

He stepped away from her and said hello to the remaining few before completely ignoring you and slipping into the kitchen to put his beers in the fridge.

---

The executive decision was made to leave Josh’s apartment around 9:30 p.m., so while you ran off to the bathroom to get ready to go, Sadie flitted off to the kitchen for one final drink. Pierre did the same. When he entered, she was standing in front of the liquor, studying each bottle.

She didn’t even spare him a glance, having clocked him through her peripheral vision and deciding not to engage. He opened the fridge and reached in to receive a new bottle.

“You go to Ohio State, right?” he asked after popping the cap off.

She looked uncertain of him when he asked, but responded, “Yeah, I do.”

“You’re in the,” he paused, thinking for a moment about her class placement, “third year?”

“Yep.”

“How do you like it?” he asked, cocking his hip against the counter. He watched as Sadie poured herself another drink. She sipped it for taste, then added a little more Vodka. “I always got a little jealous of my friends who got to go to school.”

“It’s great,” she answered. “But I don’t think you’re missing out. If you make anything close to what Josh does, I��should be jealous of you.” He chuckled softly, lifting the mouth of the bottle to his lips for a swig. She narrowed her eyes at him. “What did you do to my sister?”

He placed the bottle on the counter beside him, fingers swiping along the condensation settling against the label.

“I didn’t make the best first impression and she never gave me the chance to right that wrong,” he answered honestly. “It’s all good, though. I don’t need her to like me.”

Sadie caught the uneasy shift of his eyes from hers to the bottle beside him and decided that he had a shit poker face. 

“She’s a tough cookie sometimes,” she murmured. He nodded in agreement, eyebrows nearly raised to his hairline. 

“She’s determined, I’ll give her that,” he huffed, shaking his head to himself and taking another sip of beer. 

“I’m pretty sure she didn’t like me the first five years I was alive, so don’t worry, maybe you’ll win her over,” Sadie shrugged, giving Pierre a knowing look that he tried to ignore. If he was going to go around spilling secrets to anyone the last person he would choose was your little sister.

“Crazier things have happened, right?”

“Sure,” she said softly. Her eyes lingered on him for a moment like she was trying to decipher what he wasn’t saying. Pierre felt uncomfortable under her gaze, lifting his beer bottle to her and slipping out of the kitchen before she could make him sweat anymore than she already had. 

---

As soon as you walked into the club, you threw an arm over Sadie’s shoulder and led her to the bar. Josh and Pierre followed a few steps behind you as the rest of the group left to grab a table. Sadie’s eyes lit up as she studied every bit of the place you all frequented, overjoyed to finally be a part of your Columbus crew.

Sadie propped herself up onto one of the barstools at the bar and you stood beside her to wave down the bartender at the other end. Behind you, Josh and Pierre waited, deep in conversation about something to do with the team.

The bartender was quick to attend to your needs, dropping your drinks off swiftly before moving on to the next group of patrons.

You were busy surveying the land for potential suitors for the evening, not exactly sure if you wanted to end up in Charlie’s bed again or not. For some reason you were finding it hard to take interest in any of the men mingling around the bar with Pierre’s cologne overwhelming your senses as he stood just a few feet behind you. 

Sadie seemed to have no interest in the men that were hanging around the bar, which made you feel better at first. That is, until you realized she was eyeing up Pierre and then shifting her gaze back to you. She was up to something, that was never a good sign. 

“His name matches his face,” Sadie spoke after glancing at Pierre over your shoulder.

“What does that even mean?”

“He’s fucking hot!” she exclaimed. Her voice carried and while you choked on your drink in front of her, Pierre choked on his own in front of Josh.

“You heard that?” Josh asked him with an amused smile. He nodded slowly, desperately trying to push her words out of his mind. “YN’s blood is probably boiling.”

“I have a feeling I’m going to be castrated by the end of the night.”

“It was nice knowing you, buddy,” Josh teased. 

As you and Sadie stepped away from the bar, Josh grabbed your sister and pulled her into his side. Left in their wake, Pierre fell into step with you. 

“You talk about me to your little sister?”

“Only to tell her how insufferable you are,” you informed him. He grinned, like he always did, like he was one step ahead of you. “Whatever she said to you, don’t believe. She’s a liar.”

“So, she was lying when she said I’m fucking hot?”

You turned to face him, standing tall even though he was basically a foot taller than you. You raised your voice just enough to beat out the music, growling, “If you try anything with my sister, I will literally--” 

“Holy shit, I’m kidding,” he said gruffly, an exasperated sigh attached to the end of the sentence. He shook his head, mumbling as he brushed past you on the way back to the booth. “I don’t want your little sister, YN.”

---

Two hours later, Pierre was wandering the bar in search of someone new to occupy his time. He’d been with a group of co-eds for a bit, one of which he’d slept with once before, but they’d decided to leave for another bar. And though he’d been invited, he decided to stick with his real friends.

It had to be somewhere around midnight when he slipped past the bar and noticed Sadie at the end without any of her appointed babysitters and immediately felt worry bubbling up in his stomach. She was the youngest in the bar and seemed a little unsteady on her feet, and even though you told him to stay away, the creeps eyeing her down from the other side gave him bad vibes.

So, he stepped up beside her and leaned against the bar with a smile. 

“Bonjour!”

“Hey, Sadie,” he greeted her. She hiccuped. “You good?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” she slurred. “I’m getting another Tequila shot.”

“Do you need one?” he asked. His tone of voice was teasing, but the concern was clear on his face. When she turned to look at him, he saw how strikingly similar she looked to you. It was probably the glare on her face that did it.

“I want one,” she repeated. “And you’re going to take one with me.”

“Well, okay.”

Pierre had seen this one too many times before. He knew this shot was going to be the end to her night, but it didn’t matter how hard he tried to stop her, it wasn’t going to work. The bartender brought the liquor over and after some convincing on Sadie’s part, he poured a shot for himself as well.

The tequila went down easy for the two men, but the look on Sadie’s face told Pierre that she also knew that shot was going to be her night’s death sentence.

“You look pale.”

“Let’s go sit,” she murmured, grabbing his wrist and pulling him with her towards the booth with the rest of the group. Seth caught Pierre’s frantic eyes as they approached.

“She’s going to be sick,” he whispered as soon as they were standing beside each other. They both looked up at Sadie who’d taken up residence at the end of the table, knuckles white from from clutching the top. “Where’s YN?”

“I have no clue,” Seth answered. “The bathroom maybe.”

Just as Pierre started to look around the bar, hoping to find you in the crowd, Sadie lurched slightly. 

“I need to get her out of here,” he said. “If she throws up here, YN would never want to come back and she loves this place.”

“Do you want me to just take her?”

It was a good question and Pierre stopped to think for a moment about the answer. Seth could take Sadie off his hands and he could go about his night normally, or he could prove to you that he wasn’t the asshole you painted him out to be. For whatever reason, he chose the latter.

“No, I got her,” he said. “Let YN know what’s going on, would you?”

---

You returned to the table not even fifteen minutes later, already pissed off because of how long the bathroom line was. Needless to say, Seth letting you know that Pierre had taken Sadie back to your place was not what you wanted to hear. 

“You let her leave this bar with Pierre?”

His fingers danced nervously along the beer bottle in his hand. The 6’ 4” defenseman was utterly terrified of your wrath, and had you not been so pissed off, you would’ve thrived in the feeling. “I know you hate him, but he was just trying to help out.”

“Help out?” you repeated. “You think Pierre would do something out of the kindness of his own heart for me, Jonesy?” He nodded a bit sheepishly. “You’re delusional.”

With that, you snatched your purse off the table and stormed out of the bar in pursuit of your apartment. The walk was only about ten minutes long and, quite frankly, you didn’t give a shit that you were walking through the city at night in a short little dress. You were a woman on a mission and anyone that crossed your path with the wrong intention was going to get your wrath, and it seemed that everyone knew that because you weren’t bothered once. 

You threw your door open once it was unlocked and the decorations on the wall rattled as the door hit the wall beside it. Pierre, who’d been standing outside the bathroom door, jumped out of his skin at the sound. He righted himself and stood tall as you entered the hallway unsure of what type of reaction he was going to receive from you. 

You hardly looked at him as you barked, “Where is she?”

“Puking.”

He leaned forward and pushed the bathroom door open a bit wider, revealing Sadie with her head on the toilet seat. You huffed as you entered and kicked the door closed in his face before slumping down beside her.

“Sadie, what the fuck?”

“I suck.”

“How much did you have to drink?” you asked, hand rubbing comforting circles on her back. 

“I was trying to keep up with your friends,” she murmured before gagging into the toilet again.

“You know that they’re all well above six feet and weigh like two hundred more pounds than you, right?” you stated. She nodded and groaned pathetically. “You should’ve known better.”

She didn’t offer a response to your chastising and instead sat up to look at you and said, “I thought I wasn’t going to like him.”

You raised your eyebrows at her.

“Pierre?”

“Yeah. He’s actually a really nice guy,” she grumbled, dropping her head back into her hand that was propped up on the toilet. “Held my hair back for me.”

With an eye roll and a grunt, you stood to leave her to fend for herself.

“Wait,” she called as soon as your hand was on the door knob. “Can you tell Pierre that I’m sorry I ruined his night?”

“Sure.”

“Be nice to him.”

“No promises,” you grunted, pulling the door open to kick the hockey player out of your house.

---

Pierre was uncomfortable in your apartment. Before you arrived, he was too worried about Sadie to even think about the fact that he was in the middle of your personal space. But now, as you sat with her in the other room and he stood in the living room lurking, he knew he didn’t belong.

There were books decorating your coffee table and plants hanging from the ceiling above him. The television stand was cluttered with picture frames of your family and friends from home. His eyes caught on a photo strip from a Blue Jackets event. Josh’s arm was slung over your shoulders, yours wrapped around his waist, both of you clearly hammered and smiling like two idiots who’d been sitting at the open bar all night. 

Although he couldn’t remember much of that night, thanks to the date he was entertaining, he did remember one thing. He remembered the dress you wore. 

It was this dark blue, almost navy dress, and there was a slit up your leg to your thigh that he kept finding himself gazing at. For the first time since he met you, he thought about what it would be like to feel your body against his, to slide his hand up and between your thighs in the middle of a team event just because he could. 

When he got home later that night after dropping his date at home, he jumped beneath a cold stream of water in the shower. He was desperate to clear his mind of every dirty thought that included you. In the end, the only thing that could clear it was release and he ended up jerking off in the shower despite himself.

“I could’ve used a text. I was worried sick.” 

You snuck up on him, leaving him with no time to pretend like he hadn’t been staring at you in each of your photos.

“I would’ve texted you but, in completely unsurprising news, I don’t have your number,” he said defensively. 

It wasn’t like he was expecting you to grovel at his feet for making sure your sister didn’t vomit in the middle of your favorite club, but he would’ve appreciated a little less attitude or a simple ‘thank you’. 

“Her phone was dead, too, and she started throwing up in a bush, so I was a little more concerned about holding her hair back than calling you right away.”

Your mouth snapped shut.

“Anyway, you’re welcome.”

Your mother would kill you if she saw you now. You didn’t even say thank you. 

But, before your mouth could catch up to the thanks at the tip of your tongue, Pierre was pulling the apartment door open and disappearing down the hall. Not even a parting glance was sent your way.

[fighterkimburgess]

Babysitting

Summary: Immediately post 8x15. Adam arrives at the next location, but isn't prepared for what he finds. Putting the entire fic under a cut because spoilers from line one.

Words: 1.1k

Warnings: massive spoilers for 8x15's ending, obviously. Adam's mind going some dark places.

Wanna join my taglist?

“50-21 Eddie do you read me?” Adam was only four blocks away, but Kim hadn’t said anything, hadn’t mentioned any movement in the three minutes she’d been at the location. It wasn’t like her. She’d been trained by Trudy to check in on radio for moments like this every ninety seconds, and that pit in Adam’s stomach was getting worse by the second. Her car was ahead, and he pulled in behind it. But as soon as he opened his door he knew there was something very, very wrong. Her car door was open. Kim wouldn’t do that.

The second he got close he realised just how wrong things had gone. Her vest was on the ground, blood on it. She was gone.

“I need the team here now. We have a missing officer. I repeat, a missing officer.” He could hear the shock come over the airwaves as Voight called a radio check, not willing to put on the air who was missing. The team came quickly, and Adam ran them through the bust. It was perfect from start to finish, but Kim was gone and there was no sign of her or her assailant.

By the time he was out, Voight had arrived, clasping an arm around Adam’s shoulder. “We’ll find her. Who’s with Makayla?” It shook Adam out of the spiral his thoughts were entering.

“The sitter. Kim said she’d be home by midnight. I…I’m the only other one allowed let her go home. Fuck, Sarge, I need to be here.” He ran his hand through his hair. Kim was unarmed and alone and she didn’t even have her vest.

“No, you don’t. You need to go to that apartment and let the sitter go home and look after that girl, understood? Drive back to the precinct to change, don’t scare her arriving in in tac gear.”

Adam did what he was told, ignoring the looks from the other officers. He probably looked like a prick leaving, but he had to be there for Kim’s daughter.

Fuck. Kim’s daughter.

His kid, if Kim didn’t…no his mind wasn’t going there. Not tonight. Kim would be fine. He was just babysitting. That was all.

Trudy had already heard the news, and she had his clothes waiting for him, turning her back so he didn’t even have to go up to the bathroom. He was changed in minutes, and watched as the desk sergeant nodded at him. It was just barely more than she’d normally do, and he was so grateful for that. If Trudy Platt showed emotion, he wasn’t going to be able to cope.

The drive to Kim’s was short, and he pulled up in his normal spot. Before he went in he grabbed Makayla’s spare car seat out of the trunk of the jeep, buckling it in position for the ride to school in the morning. It was a moment of pure domesticity, except this time he didn’t have Kim telling him he was doing it wrong.

He got upstairs, paying the babysitter. Makayla was asleep on the couch so he sat down on the far end, staring at the coffee table and the stupid stain he’d left on the rug. The girl stirred, so he turned to look.

“Adam? Where’s Kim?” She asked, half asleep.

“She’s got to work late, Bud. Told me to come here and keep an eye on you, then take you to school in the morning. Is that ok?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna sleep now.” Kim had told him how much her sleep had improved since getting the trouble dolls, and Adam lifted Makayla easily, carrying her into her bed. The dolls were securely under her pillow, and he tucked her in. She had the stuffed platypus from their trip to the zoo beside the bed so he grabbed it, tucking it under the girl’s arm.

She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve to lose another parental figure. Not so soon, and honestly not ever. She didn’t deserve to not know where Kim was.

His phone buzzed, Adam picking it up and pulling up his texts. Every member of the team had checked in, making sure he was ok. Were his feelings for Kim that clear to everyone else? Was it that obvious he’d been in love with her for nearly a decade?

Probably, if he was honest. The last time this had happened - how the hell was there even a last time? - he should have worried about Hailey. He was dating Hailey. He was supposed to be in love with Hailey, or getting there. But instead he was terrified for what would happen to Kim. The cuts to Hailey’s face had hurt him, made him furious. But the bruises around Kim’s neck? Knowing that if they’d been even thirty seconds later that she’d have been dead? That cut him to the core. That was the moment he’d known no matter how hard he and Hailey fought for what they had built, it would come down like a house of cards. And he was glad, in a way. Hailey and Jay suited each other. He just wanted he and Kim to get that chance.

He could have slept on the couch. He could have curled up and dozed, the same way he had countless times before after too many beers and he and Kim insisting they weren’t going to have sex that night. He normally only stayed on the couch till three anyway, when she came out to the bathroom like always because she insisted on drinking a quart of water before bed, and she’d drag him into her bed citing that his back would be sore. And he’d get to lie beside her and hold her and kiss her. And he had to be able to do that again. He didn’t know if he could live without doing that again.

He texted Voight that he was going to sleep, but his ringer would be on. Makayla’s wake up time was six thirty, and he had to get her to school for seven forty, but he’d be in work then. Adam crawled between the sheets of Kim’s bed, smelling her conditioner on her pillow. He’d get to be in this bed with her again. He had to.

Taglist: @aruzlover @abbyscameron @morganupstead @adamruz @fullwattpadmusictree @redpoodlern @everythingaddictxx @write4life13 @lizlouisebrown @jeanjacketjesus @tuxieboy101-blog @thelittlepterophyllum @planecrazylex @sophiatellerrhodes @eternal-olicity @ossypooh @multicouple-lover @gins-potter

[taexual]

A for Affection / Johnny x Reader

Alcohol makes you fall under a love spell and Johnny’s younger members become the latest victims of your affection, leaving your boyfriend unsure if he should be jealous or concerned for their lives.

pairing: Johnny x Reader | feat. my sons, mark & jisung

warnings: drunk!MC, slight crack, some lowkey mature topics, and, most importantly, soft!Johnny 🥺

words: 3.9k

REQUEST: Can I request a scenario where Johnny picks his drunk girlfriend up and brings her back to the dorms, and Johnny has to try to save the dreamies from her squeezing their cheeks, hugging them tightly, and telling them how cute they are?

This ended up being heavily inspired by jeonghan’s “디노 누구 애기?”

It was only supposed to be a few cocktails with the girls on Friday night after a long week at work – or that’s what you and your co-workers had told yourselves – but, within several hours of the night-out at the bar downstairs from your office, the four of you were already giggling at everything, your most loyal friend – the bartender – appearing especially funny.

“I should probably call someone to pick you up,” he told you when he walked over to your group to ask if you needed anything only to have you all burst into a fit of excited giggles. “You don’t look like you can be trusted with a taxi driver.”

“No, no, listen,” one of your closest friends said, clearing her throat to make herself sound more official. “What you should do is tell us about the time you thought you were serving a-a—”

“You guys come here almost every Friday night,” the bartender groaned – interrupting your friend who was already wheezing – but he didn’t seem to be particularly annoyed, “and you bring that story up every time. I swear, I’m never telling you anything about myself again.”

“No!” you protested. “Please! Tell us exactly how you can mistake an intern at our company for the prime-minister of the whole nation.”

Your friends completely lost it at that point, nearly suffocating as violent waves of laughter overtook them. Even though the bartender had shared the story with you months ago when you first started coming here, and you’d already laughed about it just about a hundred times before, it never ceased to amuse the four of you when you were drunk.

“That’s it,” the bartender declared, grabbing the phone in your hand and pulling up Johnny’s phone number. You’d been in this situation a few times before so he knew who to call. “I’m calling your boyfriend.”

“No, don’t bother him,” you stopped laughing – so you could wipe a stray tear of joy from your cheek – and then exhaled dreamily, “he works so hard, just let him rest. I’ll wait for him here.”

“Well, he’s not coming if he doesn’t know where you are.”

“No, no, he’ll come,” you replied, placing your elbows on the bar top and then resting your head on your palms. “He’s going to find me sooner or later.”

The bartender stopped before pressing the call button and gave you a long look.

“You know, I only serve you drinks and nothing else here,” he said, always beyond impressed by the effect alcohol had on you, “but you would think I’d slipped some drugs in there, too.”

Your friend snorted. “Please. We work so hard, we deserve this.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t,” he clarified, “but maybe waiting for your Prince Charming to come get you is a sign that you’ve had enough for tonight.”

“No!” you tried to protest again but the whine that passed your lips was so half-hearted that the bartender didn’t even bother to move away from your extended hand – he assumed you were reaching for the phone in his hand, but you ended up grabbing his bow-tie instead – because he could tell you weren’t capable of doing much anymore. That’s why he thought it was time for you to go home.

“Johnny,” the bartender said into the phone when your boyfriend picked up.

You perked up at the sound of his name and released the poor bartender from your grip – he had underestimated your strength, after all, as you nearly choked him by pulling on his bow-tie – before sitting up straight.

“Is it Johnny?” you asked just to make sure. “Can you tell him I love him?”

“Yeah, uh, I’m from the bar downstairs,” the bartender spoke into the phone, ignoring you. “I’ve got your girl here, she’s—uh, well, she thinks she’s Cinderella.”

Even though it was nearing 2 AM, Johnny hadn’t been sleeping when he got the call from the bartender, so he recognized his voice right away. Granted, it’s only been a few times when you’d gotten so drunk you needed someone to come pick you up, but Johnny had learned that he was surprisingly adept at remembering people’s voices – especially when it came to people, responsible for keeping you safe until he reached you.

“Thanks for calling me,” Johnny told the bartender when he showed up to get you twenty minutes later. You seemed surprised to see him even though you were supposed to know he was coming since you were there to hear the phone call. “Let’s get you all home now, yeah?”

Johnny didn’t have to take all of your friends home – the bartender was kind enough to offer to call their partners, too – but he didn’t think it was right to leave them here when he was perfectly capable of taking care of all four of you. Or so he thought.

To be fair, you weren’t a problematic bunch, and the biggest hassle turned out to be getting all of you into his car. You were like a gaggle of kindergartners, amused by the most ordinary things – “look at how bright that girl’s lip gloss is! I’m going to ask her where she bought it!” – and Johnny ended up having to challenge his inner babysitter as he chased after the four of you until you finally arrived at the parking lot.

The ride to your friends’ houses would have been funny, honestly – how could it not be when your group followed every passing vehicle through the window of Johnny’s car like a group of excited retrievers – but Johnny was worried about you.

You didn’t have a great relationship with hangovers so, in order to make sure you weren’t out cold for the rest of the weekend, he knew he had to get you to down a bottle of water before going to bed, but you looked like you were already about to fall asleep in the passenger seat.

“So,” Johnny said loudly, successfully scaring you into waking up. “How many drinks have you had tonight?”

“A few,” you told him, showing him eight fingers on your hands.

“I’m going to assume that’s eight each,” he said more to himself than your girlfriends, but the four of you heard him and burst into a yet another fit of giggles. It was truly confounding how coordinated your laughter seemed to be – what one of you found amusing, the other three always did, too.

“It’s so nice of you to come,” you said then, looking at Johnny with such unrestrained affection in your eyes that he nearly forgot he was supposed to be watching the road. “I knew you’d find me.”

He smiled, playing along. “I always do.”

You grinned in content, trying to get more comfortable in your seat but the seating belt was restraining you.

Johnny already knew the signs of you looking for a position to sleep in, so, clearing his throat, he continued to look for ways to keep you awake for the rest of the ride.

“So,” he said again, not yet knowing what he was getting himself into, “tell me something funny that you did tonight.”

And, thus, your friends proceeded to replay their days in excruciating detail – the fact that they could remember this much while so drunk was a miracle in itself – while you snickered in support. Johnny, meanwhile, was far more focused on making sure you weren’t dozing off, and the only times he smiled was when he heard you laugh at something your friends had said, however completely unfunny it would have seemed to sober-you.

When, half an hour later, your friends finally wrapped up the tales about what they did today, Johnny had finally finished circling the neighborhood to drop them off safely at their houses. And, much to his surprise, you appeared to be far more awake than you’d been when he first got you into the car.

“I’m taking you back to my place, okay?” he asked but he wasn’t actually going to take no for an answer. “I don’t want you waking up alone tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is far away,” you said with a dismissive wave of your hand, not realizing that it was, technically, tomorrow already. “I don’t want to go to sleep yet.”

“Good,” Johnny said. “We need you to sober up a little before you go to bed anyway.”

“I’m really not that drunk,” you said in a voice so serious that he would have honestly believed you if you didn’t screech the next second, “oh my God, look at that billboard with a dog wearing a sweater!”

He didn’t even realize there was a billboard at all – and then he was confused as to how you even noticed it in the dark – but then he found himself instinctively following your gaze to look out the window.

“Alright, that’s a cute dog,” he concurred.

“We should get a dog,” you announced then. “Two, maybe.”

Johnny loved the excitement in your voice.

“Yeah?” he encouraged. “You think we could take care of two dogs?”

“We could take care of a lot more than two,” you declared, the alcohol making you feel almost invincible, “maybe even three!”

Johnny was laughing now. “No, three dogs would definitely be too big of a challenge for us. Besides, I’ve already got you to take care of.”

You sighed, your expression grateful yet somehow sulky. “You’re so good to me.”

Drunk or not, you always managed to say just the thing to make his chest swell with love so consuming, he almost had to pull over to the side of the road to get himself back together again.

“I’m just taking you home,” he said, ever so humble.

“Take me home, Johnny,” you said, closing your eyes. The late-night drive through the city with your boyfriend was too blissful, too overwhelming. You were tired. “And then tomorrow we can get three dogs. Maybe four.”

He laughed again – and you smiled at the sound – but then stopped himself when he noticed your closed eyes.

“Come now, don’t fall asleep on me, love,” he said quickly. Slowly, you peered at him through your eyelashes. Johnny swallowed. “But also, uh, don’t look at me like that or we’ll crash into the nearest pole.”

You closed your eyes again, giggling. “Well, what do you want me to do then?”

“Talk to me,” he said. “Tell me how much you’ve missed me.”

“I saw you yesterday,” you said, still smiling.

“But yesterday was so long ago,” he whined, mimicking your voice with impressive accuracy, but you were too drunk to catch his good-natured teasing.

“That’s true,” you said, your eyelids so very heavy, “I always miss you. Hey!” you jumped up suddenly and Johnny flinched in surprise. “Is Jisung home?”

He gave you a confused look, unsure how you went from missing him to thinking about Jisung in the span of two seconds. “Uh, considering that it’s two in the morning, I sure hope he is.”

“Good,” you said with a satisfied smile. “I must see him.”

He knew how much Jisung – and the other youngest members of his group – reminded you of your own younger relatives and how much sisterly love you had for them, but he still couldn’t help the jealousy in his voice as he cocked an eyebrow. “You must?”

“Yes. I have to give him a hug while he is still a baby,” you said matter-of-factly. “They grow up too soon.”

“A bab—yeah, no,” Johnny shook his head, reaching to place one of his hands on your knee as he held the wheel of the car with his other one, “I may have had my doubts about this but it’s clear now – you’re completely wasted.”

“I’m not,” you disagreed stubbornly.

“In any case, it should be me you’re thinking of giving hugs to,” he said.

“I want to give you a lot more than a hug,” you said, “but you told me not to look at you or we’ll crash into a—”

God, was it suddenly hot in the car as Johnny interrupted you with a loud, “okay! On second thought, let’s not elaborate on what we’d like to do to each other, okay? You’re drunk and I’m trying to get you home safe.”

“So, let me give him a hug, then,” you whined. “I haven’t seen Jisung in ages, he could be even taller now. I must hug him before he gets taller. And then I must tell him to stop growing.”

One more “must” and Johnny knew he was going to start laughing but he didn’t want you to feel like he was mocking you, even if you probably wouldn’t have even realized it. Honestly, your affection towards his youngest members was cute – as long as you didn’t neglect your own boyfriend, of course – and Johnny knew they appreciated your love, too.

“Okay, you can give the baby a hug,” he gave in. “Unless the baby in question is asleep. What will we do then?”

“Then I’ll just have to hug you,” you decided and Johnny was on the verge of starting another argument about the apparent disappointment in your voice but he knew better as you moved your hand down your knee until it met his, and locked your fingers together.

Surprisingly, you made it Johnny’s dorm without falling asleep in the car. He had a feeling that the accomplishment of keeping you awake throughout the entire drive had to be given to that dog billboard you’d seen – you kept bringing it up throughout the ride.

After having helped you out of the car, Johnny guided you up the porch steps. Because there wasn’t enough space for the two of you to walk next to each other, he trailed a few steps behind you, ready to catch you if you lost your balance.

“Johnny,” you said suddenly as you stopped outside of the front door in the dark entryway of his house – the light bulb had broken last week but no one got around to change it yet – and then panicked when you didn’t feel your boyfriend anywhere near you, “Johnny? Johnny!”

“Yes, yes, I’m here, love,” he followed after you, his hands finding their way around your waist to help you support your weight.

“I love you,” you felt the need to say to him right then and there. “A lot, okay?”

He laughed. “Okay.”

“And I’m going to tell you the funniest story.”

“Is this the prime-minister story again?” Johnny asked as he unlocked the door with his free hand and helped you inside. “You’ve already told me twice in the car.”

“No, no, but listen,” you snickered, covering your mouth with your hand to make your laughter quieter now that you were inside of his dorm. “It was really an intern at our—”

“At your company. Yes, I know, love,” he said, still beyond amused by how easy it was to make you laugh when you were drunk. “I’m sure you’ll find this story about as funny as I do when you’re sober.”

“Hmm? But you’re not laughing,” you said as you tried to turn to look at him even though the dark hallway made his features indiscernible.

“Exactly,” he said softly.

Pouting, you turned away from him as the two of you moved towards the kitchen. “You’re no fun—Jisung! Hi! It’s me!”

Johnny thought you were seeing things for a moment but then he followed your gaze to a startled figure in the kitchen in front of you.

Jisung was standing there like a deer caught in the headlights. He couldn’t see you in the darkness of the hallway but when Johnny finally helped you enter the dimly lit living room, the youngest boy finally recognized you.

“Oh, hey,” he gave you a small wave. “Good to see you. How are you?”

“I’m perfect!” you replied, inexplicably excited to see him. Somehow in this excitement, you broke out of Johnny’s grip and reached for a very confused Jisung. “But why aren’t you in bed? You should be sleeping. Did we wake you up? I’m sorry.”

“N-no. I just got up for a glass of—”

“Ugh,” you sighed as you sat down on the armrest of the nearby sofa. “You’re so cute.”

“I’m—” taken aback by your words, Jisung looked over your shoulder at Johnny, who was chuckling and refusing to explain your weird state. “Thank you?”

“Come here,” you said – almost demanded, really – with extended hands. Jisung was still frozen as the older member gave him a shrug behind you. “Come on!”

“Uh—okay, sure,” Jisung gave in, putting the glass down before he walked closer to you until you pulled him into a hug, which wasn’t that unusual since you were always affectionate towards him and the rest of the youngest members alike, but you were clearly drunk now and he wasn’t sure how to act.

“Are you doing okay?” you asked Jisung as he hugged you back – awkwardly at first, but he eased into it eventually – never forgetting to make sure he wasn’t being mistreated, “are the older members nice to you? You can tell me if they’re not, I’ll kick their asses.”

“No, they’re okay,” Jisung chuckled against your shoulder. You always asked him this. “Thank you, though.”

“You’re welcome,” you said, hugging him tighter. “I have to look after you. So, tell me if something is wrong, okay?”

Despite your drunken state, Jisung was still touched by the gesture – although, objectively, he knew he could have gotten offended that you still saw him as a baby – and, when you finally released him from your hug, he gave you a grateful smile.

“We’re lucky to have you,” he told you with a glance over at Johnny – who seemed to be going through several different emotions at the same time as his eyebrows furrowed but his lips tried to stretch into a soft smile – and then took a careful step backwards so you wouldn’t try to suffocate him with your tight grip again. “I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?”

“Yes!” you nodded, excited. “I’m thinking of cooking breakfast. What would you like?”

Both Johnny and Jisung raised their eyebrows at this.

“Uh, cooking?” your boyfriend asked.

“Yes,” you told them, completely determined. “I have to make myself useful and take care of—oh my God, Mark, come here!”

Neither of you had seen the other boy come out of his bedroom – he was confused by the loud noises in the house – but your eagle eyes captured Mark’s sleepy features as soon as he walked into the light.

“Oh, hey, guys,” he said once he understood what the commotion was about, “I didn’t realize we had guests.”

“Yeah, she’s drunk and I didn’t want her to—” Johnny started to say but before he could finish his sentence, you were already leaping up from the sofa and squeezing Mark’s cheeks. “Yeah, she… that’s how she says hello when she’s drunk, apparently.”

“That’s not how she said hello to me,” Jisung objected, not particularly enjoying the way you tended to pinch his cheeks but also feeling rather neglected now that your attention was focused on Mark. Jisung had prided himself in being your designated “cute boy”.

“How did she say hello to you?” Mark asked – his hello sounding like a very baby-like hewwo as you pinched his cheeks, expressing your disappointment about how much weight he’s lost before cooing about how adorable he was in spite of that.

“Isn’t he?” you turned to glance at Johnny and then squeezed Mark’s cheeks harder. “He’s the cutest baby on earth.”

Mark wasn’t sure if he wanted to complain and, because he stayed quiet and endured your loving abuse, Johnny wasn’t sure if he should have interjected to save the younger boy, so he just watched the scene play out in silence.

You only released Mark’s face to make a very threatening promise to feed him so he’d stop starving himself.

“I promise I’m not starving myself,” he said, always forgetting how old he was when you were around. He still tried to get you to see him as an adult but he’d have been lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it when you looked after him.

“That’s not what it looks like. You look like you haven’t had any food in months,” you countered and then turned to look at Jisung. “You too. That’s it! I’m going to feed you from now on.”

The two boys looked at each other for a moment and Jisung shrugged his shoulders. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

Mark was just starting to look for ways to say that he’d have loved that too – he didn’t want to seem too eager – but Johnny saw the light come on in Donghyuck’s room and, in order to save another member from your endless affection, he cut in by grabbing your hand.

“I wouldn’t mind having you around every day, either,” he told you. “But let’s get you some water and then go to bed, okay?”

“Oh, but I haven’t said hi to—”

“You can say hi to the rest of the members tomorrow,” Johnny promised, knowing how important it was for you to let the younger boys know how absolutely adorable they were. “They’ll be delighted to see you.”

You sighed, pursing your lips – and looking as much of a baby as Jisung did in your eyes – but then nodding in defeat, after all.

“Oh, alright,” you said. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Go to bed now! Sleep well, okay?”

Both Mark and Jisung nodded obediently – the age gap between you and them was not that big and yet, with the way you were looking after them, one would have thought you were their very youthful aunt – and waved at you as Johnny guided you to his room.

You nearly fell asleep as soon as your head hit the soft pillows on Johnny’s bed and your boyfriend, who’d left you for just a second to walk back to the kitchen for a glass of water for you, was forced to gently shake you awake.

“You know,” he told you after you finally agreed to take a sip of the water he’d brought, “you call the other members babies, but the way you have me looking after you right now? That’s some baby behavior right there.”

You pushed the glass away from your lips. “I’m not a baby.”

He grinned, looking at you with eyes full of pleasant warmth. “You kind of are.”

You allowed him to take the glass from your hands once you finally finished the drink and then decided not to argue anymore, laying back down on the bed instead. Johnny watched you finally settle into a comfortable position – pulling your knees to your chest until you were cuddled into a ball – and he couldn’t seem to move from the position he was in.

Then, suddenly, he heard you whisper in a voice, laced heavily with sleep, “I love you. Thank you for taking care of me.”

Breathless, Johnny just nodded – even though he knew you couldn’t see him – and then smiled to himself as he changed his mind. You weren’t just a baby. You were his baby.

Minutes after making sure you were asleep, Johnny tip-toed out of the room to get fresh towels and a pack of aspirin for you. He had no doubt you’d need it in the morning.

“Johnny,” Mark – who would have normally refused to conform to the “cutest baby on earth” title that you’d drunkenly given him – said when he caught Johnny walking out of his room. “We love your girlfriend and you know we love you, but I swear to God—”

Johnny almost cringed, fearing like he was about to get scolded. “I know, I know. She’s had a long week and she gets even cuddlier than she normally is when she’s drunk. I’ll—”

“—if you don’t marry her eventually, one of us just might.”

“If I don’t—” Johnny’s eyes widened. That was not the ending he thought Mark was approaching with his sentence. “Wait, what?”

Mark gave him a warning look and then returned to his room, leaving an astonished Johnny in the hallway. He watched the door of the younger member’s room close before looking back towards his own room where he knew you were sleeping.

Then, exhaling slowly, Johnny embraced the fact that – no matter how many sleepy confessions of love you’d exchange with him – in the end, he was always going to have to share your love with his youngest members, too. And, now that he thought of it, he really didn’t mind that as long as it meant having you with him for the rest of his life.

masterlist / ask (requests are closed)

[uwu-shinsou]

Stakeout

Summary: After an unexpected breakup, pro hero Ground Zero is the last person you expect to be comforting you. And also conducting a stakeout in your living room.

Warning(s): Language, themes of breakups

Pairing: Pro Hero!Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

Genre: Hurt/comfort, I guess slight angst?, light fluff, Bakugo tries to be comforting

Word Count: 2.3K

A/N: Okay first off idk about the whole legality of a hero secretly having a stakeout in your home but let’s just IGNORE that pls and thnx LOL. I was scrolling through AUs and saw one that was like “im an assassin conducting a stakeout in your house and you weren’t supposed to be home until next week” and I said okay but what if it was pro hero Bakugo and BAM HERE WE ARE!! So pls enjoy my first baku fic, I tried to make him just as fiery but also slightly more mature since he be a PRO in this 😌

You gotta be honest, the last thing you were expecting to come home to was a famous pro hero conducting a stakeout in your living room.

You hadn’t even planned to be home at all this long weekend. You and your boyfriend had planned a weekend trip together, driven all the way to the hotel, only for him to promptly break up with you and confess that he’d been seeing another girl for almost the entirety of your relationship. You’d dumped him, kicked his butt out of the car, and promptly driven two hours back home, trying your best not to cry over it.

You’d lugged your suitcase up five flights of stairs to your door, fumbling with your house key before sliding it into the lock. You tiredly stepped into the dark apartment, closing your door behind you with a sense of finality.

While locking the door, you began to mumble out the stream of consciousness that had been running through your mind since the moment you left the hotel.“If I ever see his face again I’m seriously gonna break his nose. How dare he even-” 

You walked a few steps forward into the living room, only to freeze up and let out a screech as the dark outline of a person moved from your couch. Your hand shot out behind you, and the metal baseball bat that you kept near the door flew through the air and into your hand. You took a prepared stance, ready to bash the intruder’s head in with your weapon.

“You have three seconds to tell me who you are before I start swinging!” You hiss, readying the bat.

“You aren’t supposed to be here,” The darkened figure said, taking a step towards.

“No! No, do not come any closer to me. I’ve had a very bad day and I will take my anger out on you!” You threaten, pointing that bat at the intruder to act as a barrier.

“Hey! Don’t do anything fucking rash! I’m just turning on the light, okay?” In a moment you were blinking into the soft light of the room, gaping at the man who you’d almost just clobbered with a bat.

Your arms slowly lowered, the tip of the bat resting on the floor as you blinked in disbelief. “...Ground Zero?” You asked dumbly.

“Yeah, that’s me,” He answered curtly. “Now what the hell are you doing here?”

You looked at light haired hero in disbelief before glancing around the room. “Uhhh, this is my apartment? We’re standing in my living room, and you were sitting on my couch. I think I’m the one who should be asking what you’re doing here.” You slung the bat over your shoulder and glared at him, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach from the fact that one of Japan’s top pro heroes was standing in your living room. 

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” He grumbled, walking back to the couch and grabbing his phone. “WHAT THE HELL?” Ground Zero yelled as his phone flew out of his hand and into yours. His eyes closed and he huffed out an angry sigh. “Fucking telekisnesis. I forgot that was your quirk.”

Your mouth opened in surprise and you clutched his phone to your chest. “How do you know what my quirk is?”

Ground Zero opened his eyes and glared harshly at you. Questioning and antagonizing the most temperamental pro hero was probably not my smartest move you thought as he began stalking towards you.

“F/n L/n, early 20s, telekisnesis quirk, barista and occasional babysitter, lives alone, has been dating her boyfriend for five months, and, most importantly, isn’t supposed to be home for four days because she was on a trip with her shitty ass boyfriend!” He finished his statement with a growl, and his red eyes felt as if they were burning a hole in your face.

You averted your gaze, shuffling your feet as you mumbled, “Well you’re right that he is a shitty ass boyfriend.”

“Listen, I don’t have tme for your drama. According to our intel, you shouldn’t be here until Monday night,” He said accusingly.

“Well I didn’t want me to be back this early either!” You said, letting go of the bat and sending it back to it’s spot by the door. Your hands tightened into fists in frustration and you pushed past the intimidating hero, making your way into the kitchen.

“Hey- don’t you fucking walk away from me!” Ground Zero stomped behind you, staring in disbelief as you started rummaging through your pantry. “I asked you a question!”

You turned around to face him, holding a full package of cookies. “Guess what, Ground Zero? I don’t care!” You exclaimed, opening the package. “Honestly? I don’t even care why you’re in my apartment! Go ahead, make yourself at home! Sit on my couch, eat my food, watch my TV, it doesn’t even matter! The past five months of my life have been a fucking lie, so please just leave me alone to cry in my room and eat my feelings away.” You shoved a cookie into your mouth and tried to step past him. The hero side stepped into your path, and no matter which way you tried to go, he was in front of you. You were just about ready to take a swing at him when he started talking.

“Y/n,” He said. Hearing him use your name startled you enough to stop you in place. He huffed out a quick sigh before speaking. “We’ve been tracking down a rising villainous organization for half a year now. Eveytime that we get close to making the bust, they pick up and move operations. This time, we’re one step ahead of them.” He gently took your arm and guided you back into the living room and over to the window. “We have to take extra precautions when dealing with them, since any sign that the police are on to them causes them to run.” He points out the window to the building next door. It was a squat, rectangular warehouse of four stories. With you apartment being on the fifth floor, it had the perfect view in through a poorly covered sky light. 

The pro hero switched out the lights in the room, allowing you to see clearly out and into the other building. You crouched down to get an even better look, and Ground Zero lowered himself down next to you. He handed you a pair of binoculars and pointed to the left side of the skylight, where you could see a group of people working at a long table. Looking through the binoculars brought the figures into clearer view.

“Ground Zero, are they-”

“Bakugo,” He said, interrupting you. “Just- Bakugo is fine, okay?”

You glanced at him in surprise before looking back into the adjacent building. “Alright then, Bakugo. Are they making-” You squinted and focused harder on the objects lying on the table. “Support items?”

“Yeah that’s right,” He responded. “A black market organization for support items to supply to villains. We’ve been through hell trying to track the weapons back to them, but we had a breakthrough a few weeks ago.”

You hummed in thought, shoving a cookie in your mouth before offering one to the pro hero. Bakugo’s eyebrows raised in surprise, but he accepted it nonetheless.

“So you needed my apartment to finish getting your dirt on them, and then you planned on doing your big bust?”

“More or less, yeah. And being here,” He gestured vaguely to your apartment. “Was critical because that skylight was in the perfect place to capture incriminating photos of them doing deals earlier tonight. We’re fucking finally ready to finish this.”

“And how many heroes are on this job, exactly?”

Bakugo held up a hand, counting on his fingers as he thought through it. You hid a smile behind your hand at the gesture. “I guess a dozen or so, plus the local police force. There’s a good number of those shitty criminals in there, but we’ve faced a lot worse.”

You sighed, eating another cookie. “Well, sorry that my breakup got in the way of your important hero plans. I could leave I guess, maybe stay with a friend for the weekend-”

“Shut the hell up, I’m not gonna kick you out of your own damn apartment,” He said, rising from his spot on the floor beside you and going back to his supplies laid out on the couch. “I’m not exactly a very patient person so the bust is happening within an hour anyways. There are heroes and police stationed all around in the other buildings and streets, so I won’t be in your hair for that much longer.”

“Oh,” Was all you said, slowly putting a cookie in your mouth. 

The hero stopped fiddling with his supplies and plopped onto the couch, his furrowed eyes meeting your gaze. You raised an eyebrow in question, holding out the cookie package in a silent offering.

“No that’s not- did you say ‘breakup’?”

You huffed out a humorless laugh. “Uh huh. Bastard was cheating on me for basically our entire relationship. I guess I just wasn’t good enough or something.” You bit the inside of your lip and looked down at your lap, furiously trying not to cry. I’ve already embarrassed myself enough, I definitely do not need him to see me crying right now.

“But don’t worry about me, I should just leave you to get ready to, er- arrest some criminals and- do your hero stuff.” You quickly stood up, clutching the cookie package to your chest, and tried to make your way past him while hiding you face. “I’ll just- go sit in my room so I don’t bother you.”

You’d almost made it to the hallway when you suddenly bumped into something that was definitely not your furniture.

You let out an “oof” as you collided with Bakugo’s chest, his hands landing on your shoulders to steady you. You glanced up at him, and his face showed he was just as surprised as you were. He then realized he was still touching you, and took his hands off your shoulders like it had burned him.

“Listen- it’s shitty that he did that to you, and there’s no way you deserved it,” Bakugo said, and the absolute sincerity of it made you burst into tears.

Bakugo started to panic then. “Oh shit, what’s wrong? Did I say it wrong or-” He cut himself off as you vehemently started shaking your head, trying to rub the tears away.

“No no no no,” You said, assuring him. You sniffled, desperately trying to stop your crying. “I guess that I just-” A fresh wave of tears hit you and started rolling down your face, making Bakugo hover his hands in front of him, unsure of what to do. 

“I know that I’m not very good at this, but if you want I can go and beat the shit out of him or something,” He said, making you laugh as you wiped your face.

“I was trying to say that it just- meant a lot to me, that you said that,” you said as you started to calm down. “I didn’t really believe it before, that I didn’t deserve that to happen to me, but when your favorite pro hero says it to you…” You shrugged, giving him a wobbly smile. “Maybe it is true.”

He gave you an assuring smile that you could almost call a smirk. “Well you better believe it, honey, because it’s the truth.” He paused, smugly crossing his arms. “So, your favorite hero, huh?”

“Ahaha,” you felt your face go warm, and you gave him a sheepish smile. “Sorta kinda yeah.” The admission seemed to surprise him, like he didn’t know how to respond.

The beeping of Bakugo’s phone in the living room drew the two of you out of the moment. He bumped his shoulder playfully into yours as he passed. “Glad to hear that I’m your favorite.”

You scrambled to the kitchen to put away your cookies and splash a bit of water on your face as he answered the phone. You could just make out his conversation over the running water.

“What’s up, nerd?... Yeah, I know. I got all the pictures we needed... Good. Everything’s still quiet in there… Got it, I’ll see you in a few.” 

He hung up his phone just as you edged into the living room, watching him glance out the window into the criminal’s headquarters. He let out a huff of a sigh as he started packing up his things. 

You wandered in a little bit further. “So it’s time, then?” You asked. He looked up at you as he finished his packing.

“Yeah, time to beat some villain asses,” He said, shouldering his bag. “You gonna be alright?”

You gave him a soft smile. “I will be. I already feel a lot lighter, like the weight of a whole ass grown man has been released from my body.” Bakugo let out a snort of laughter before falling quiet. “Really, I will be.” You reassured him.

“Of course. But I was serious, if you ever need me to go and knock him around-”

You snickered at him. “Very hero-like.”

“Hell yeah it is,” He responded as you walked him towards the door, opening it for him. “Also maybe don’t go around telling people this happened, ‘cause I’ll probably get my ass kicked for sharing classified information.”

“My lips are sealed, pinky promise,” You said, holding your pinky out towards him. He scoffed but linked his pinky with yours nonetheless. “Good luck, Bakugo.” You started pulling your hand back before he grabbed it and pressed something into it.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” He said with a wink before making his way downstairs and out into the night. You slowly closed the door, leaning back against it and taking a deep breath before opening your hand.

Inside was a scrap of paper with a phone number scrawled across it, and the words “your fav hero” written below.

You may have looked out your window a little more than usual during the rest of the night.

[fallling-skys-blog]

47 49 and 74 with murdoc, i love your work btw

“You’re angry with me, I know.”

(Thank you, I’m so happy that you like what I write! 49 and 74 are under the cut!)

“I can’t believe him! The nerve!” You said, fully aware of how overdramatic you sounded and not caring in the slightest.

“Yes, Murdoc is not very dating savvy. Actually that is probably because you are the only one who has put up with him for this long. To be fair, you are his first date since,” Noodle struggles to think of someone who had dated Murdoc since she’d been at Kong and fails, “many one night stands.”

“You have a point but still! It’s infuriating,” You say, pacing back and forth while Noodle sips on her milkshake.

It’d started off innocent enough. You’d been assigned to help out the band with whatever they needed as a kind of intern, which was even worse since they were on tour at the moment, and right away you’d established that you’d listen to what they needed but you wouldn’t take any shit from Murdoc or the others, especially Murdoc since he’d  made an unsavory joke in your direction within seconds of meeting you.

As soon as you’d set clear boundaries, you’d grown extremely close to the band, becoming best of friends with the teenage guitarist Noodle. You listened to what every single person in the band had to say, making you a favourite amongst them all. Eventually, Murdoc took to you and your listening skills and would tell you things that nobody in the band had even ever heard of and you’d found yourself slowly falling for the mess of a man that played bass in this odd band.

Which had lead to you, Murdoc, 2D, Russel, and Noodle all being stuck inside a small, weirdly scented taxi headed to a small diner in New York. It certainly wasn’t the night you’d imagined but it was interesting and not horrible in the least. You’d ended up having to sit on Murdoc’s lap in the back since Noodle refused to give up the passenger seat to Russel so that you could all squish together in the back and he would have room to breathe, especially since he wasn’t fond of being forced into small places with people, even the ones that he knew. She was being extremely ornery tonight for some reason and nobody really felt like arguing with her anyways so you all had come up with the seating arrangement of Russel on the left, 2D in the middle, and you on Murdoc’s lap on the right.

When you’d arrived and were free of the small car space, 2D and Russel sat themselves at booth across from each other, talking excitedly about something or another while you sat across from Murdoc, Noodle sliding in next to you.

“C’mon Noodle, why don’t you go by Russ and 2D? Sure, they’re not as entertaining as me but I’m sure they’ll get the job done,” Murdoc said and was met with Noodle rolling her eyes.

“I want a milkshake, 2D always forgets his wallet, and Russel needs a break from me today anyways. Besides, I want to watch you embarrass yourself on your date!” Noodle replied, with a devilish grin.

“Alright, alright, do what you want. It’s not like anyone in this bloody house can stop you,” He’d replied.

“And do you know why? It is because I am the greatest fighter and guitarist the world has ever seen! One day I will be even better than you Murdoc,” She said and you couldn’t help but laugh at her excitement.

“Guess she takes after you when it comes to confidence,” You joked and Murdoc had chuckled.

“Greatest role model to take after when it comes to that, not so much the other stuff,” He answers honestly and you nod.

“You’re getting better,” You say.

“You really think so love? Don’t flatter me too much or I’ll have to buy you every mediocre food item they have on the menu and I’ll be added to the list of idiot tourist names these lot pass around every night. Can you imagine? The Murdoc Niccals written off as a sap and forced to start collecting snow globes?” Murdoc says.

“Hey, don’t knock it until you try it. Snow globes might be the next baseball cards. In 2040 you might even be able to sell them for millions, you never know,” You reply.

“Or beanie babies, those are popular as well,” Noodle adds, looking up briefly from reading the menu.

“Moral of the story really’s to hoard things then isn’t it?” Murdoc asks and you smirk.

“Guess so, someone should really start writing a children’s book teaching kids about this,” You reply.

“Well it sure as hell can’t be me, I can barely talk to Noodle,” Murdoc says and Noodle laughs.

“That’s not your fault, only trained professionals and cats can talk to me and you are neither,” Noodle answers.

“I’ll have you know that many have said hearing my voice is like the sound of angel whispering the answers to all their problems and when it’s combined with my bass, it can cure them of anything,” Murdoc says and Noodle snorts.

“So the sound of dying crows mixed with your terrible playing cured them?” Noodle says.

“Can you believe this?” Murdoc asks you and you shrug.

“Your singing is objectively horrible” You reply.

“Sounds somethin’ like a dying seagull!” 2D pipes up from the seat behind you, ducking when Murdoc throws a stray fork at him and smiling triumphantly at Russel when he misses being hit.

The waitress comes at what seemed like just the right time since Noodle was practically jumping out of her skin in her seat and you were running out of quippy remarks to Murdoc and were devolving into awkwardly complimenting each other, which as adorable as it was embarrassing for the both of you.

“Can I take your order?” She asks directly to Murdoc and you can’t help but roll your eyes at her directness.

“Yes, I would like a strawberry milkshake and for you to stop lusting after my father,” Noodle says, making a gagging sign in your direction.

You learned that she only calls Murdoc her father when defending him to others or when she was trying to thwart people’s efforts to hit on him or his efforts to hit on someone else when she wanted to have a nice night without being haunted by images of Murdoc sticking his tongue down someone random person’s throat. Other than that he was just “Murdoc” or “Mr. Niccals” if she was making fun of him, usually in a voice mocking an interviewer.

Brother was reserved for 2D when she felt loving and if she was building him up to someone and she’d tell people that he was like a pet if she was annoyed with him that day. Russel was always called her uncle no matter what because he was almost always her favourite and deserved the title.

“Oh, that’s so nice to see that you take your daughter out to dinners for bonding time!” The waitress said, ignoring Noodle much to both your and Noodle’s irritation.

“It’s not that hard being a father really, just takes the right kind of time and dedication. Lots of that kind of thing, mmm,” He’d replied.

Noodle didn’t end up getting her milkshake and glared at Murdoc, purposefully only talking to you until 2D brang her one, saying that he’d heard her try and order it. She’d thanked him with a hug and smile, telling him that she wished she was at his table right now because watching Murdoc flirt with a waitress was boring and she definitely preferred talking to Russel and him much more. 

Finally, when the server had written her number on his napkin and her address with a heart you’d gotten off in a huff, Noodle following close behind saying that you two had to go to the bathroom which had led you to right now. Ranting to Noodle in the back of the restaurant about the irritating night.

“Who even writes their adress on a napkin? He could be a serial killer for all she knows. You know what, want to ride home with me? We can take our own taxi,” You offer, not feeling like dealing with anymore terrible flirting tonight.

“Yes! Our taxi will be so much better anyways, trust me, I am much more fun than the rest of the band!” She reassures you and you can’t help but smile at her confidence.

To her credit, it was an extremely fun car ride especially since the taxi driver allowed her to blast music and roll down the windows all of the way. It was the most fun car ride that you’d probably experienced so far but as soon as you got back into the house your mood soured again.

You managed to walk straight into Murdoc after Noodle had ran off to say goodnight to the band.

“I would say sorry but I think that’s your job,” You’d told him and he’d sighed.

“You’re angry with me, I know, but it wasn’t anything. I don’t know why you’re so mad, I can’t help it if the bird was all over me,” He starts and you stare back at him with an expression of disbelief.

“I’m pretty sure you were flirting back with her on what you said was supposed to be a date for the two of us,” You answer.

“What?” He laughs, “I’m guilty of leading her on a bit but the entire time you were gone I was telling her about you. She even took back her number that she gave me, never had that happen unless I was pissed drunk but that’s not the point, love. The point’s that I’m horrible at this and the next time I’ll do this sort of thing right, yeah? Anything you want and we’ll go do it.”

“Fine but if you blow your shot next time, I’ll move onto the next Satanist with a weirdly charming yet horrible personality,” You tell him and he laughs, jokingly assuring you that if he manages to ruin his chances next time that he’ll send the next sleazy bassist he sees your way.

“I don’t think I can forgive you.”

“We can start over. I’ll do anything, everything can be perfect. Just please don’t leave me.”

The band had been your kind of escape from everything in your hectic life and you’d stuck with them through everything, which was impressive considering the kinds of enemies the band managed to make thanks to Murdoc’s point blankness when it came to everything.

You’d been there when he’d slammed a door in Jimmy Manson’s face and when Murdoc had not too sneakily made out with 2D’s girlfriend in the bathroom of Kong Studios. Originally you’d met them when they’d needed a babysitter for Noodle because Russel refused to allow Noodle to follow Murdoc and Noodle to a strip joint and he needed to go on a trip to visit someone, who you’d later found out was his girlfriend that he was secretly seeing.

He didn’t want her to be involved with the band since that usually meant unfortunate accidents so Russel had been more than willing to drive out to her instead of her coming over to Kong. You’d needed a job and it seemed easy enough to take care of a eight year old for a few hours for some money that weekend, especially since Russel had asked you so kindly and you probably owed him a few favours yourself.

“Interesting place,” You commented when you’d arrived, looking around at the mansion that was likely to be a tourist destination to look for ghosts considering the shape it was in and the vibe it gave off.

“Not exactly paradise but when you’re playing in a band with Muds, you take what you can get,” Russel had shrugged as you closed the door behind you.

“Fair enough,” You responded, having no idea who he was talking about.

“Who in the hell’s this?” Murdoc has said, throwing an arm with a beer bottle over the couch so that he could turn his head to look at you.

“I’m here to take care of your kid problem and unless you know anyone else who’s dying to take the position, I’d be a little nicer,” You’d responded and Murdoc had chuckled in response.

“I like your style, don’t let old Murdoc over here order you around. Don’t worry I’ll have you begging for that later,” He’d said.

“In your dreams and my nightmares,” You’d replied before turning to Russel.

“Do I get to meet Noodle now? You said you had to get going soon and I don’t want you to have to wait longer than you have to especially with such a mysterious journey awaiting,” You teased.

“You’re right, don’t wanna delay leaving longer than I have to. Trouble is finding where she’s hiding,” Russel replied and you’d began your search for Noodle, meeting the lead singer along the way.

He seemed nice enough, a little spacey but he was definitely interesting and had plenty of weird stories and a pretty pleasant attitude which made you like him almost immediately. You’d asked him about Noodle and he told that she’d ran off with one of keyboards so she probably couldn’t have gone that far unless she dropped it along the way and in that case, could you please bring it back to him because it was one of his favourites.

You eventually found Noodle and ushered Russel out of the house since he was still nervous about leaving her alone, even if you’d be there. You couldn’t really blame him since the guy you’d met who’d been lounging on the couch, Murdoc you recalled, didn’t seem to be much of a parental figure and 2D had the personality of a little kid combined with being extremely spacey.

At first when Russel had left you alone with Noodle, you’d had some difficulty getting along, mostly due to the language barrier but after chasing her around the house for almost two hours she eventually calmed down and you two got along alright. You focused on activities that didn’t need verbal communication like games, video or board, and whatever you could think up.

Eventually she’d passed out on the table when you left to get her some water and food so you’d carried her to her room, which you silently thanked Russel for showing you earlier on when you’d been trying to find her. You’d laid her down on the bed gently and covered her up with a blanket, leaving quietly and shutting the door behind you.

The fun part was trying to find your way around the mansion to somewhere that was potentially a good place to wait for Russel to come home and where Noodle could find you if she woke up.

You found your way back to living room after a lot of trial and error of searching around the house and sat down on the couch with a sigh, tired from a night of not sleeping the day before and taking care of an overexcited eight year old.

You heard rummaging and someone yell from in the kitchen and groaned, forcing yourself to get up and go check if they were okay. You supposed that 2D and Murdoc could be back from their night out since you’d been away from the door with Noodle and the house was like a maze so it wouldn’t be too out of this world to assume that they’d come home while you were hanging out with Noodle.

“Rough night?” You asked, making your way into the kitchen when you saw Murdoc struggling to pop the cap of an alcohol bottle.

“Any night with that blubbering idiot’s a rough one. Be a good boy/girl, love and open this for me, will you?” He asked, handing you the bottle.

“Hmmm, not really sure I should do that. You seem to be a little, what’s the word, addicted to this stuff,” You replied, knowing someone codependent on drugs when you saw them.

“Well if you’re not going to help, go take care of Noodle or whatever Russel decided to pay you for. Noodle would have been fine on her own if you ask me, it’s good for the kid to learn to take care of herself,” He said, trying to grab the bottle from you.

“She’s eight,” You answered.

“Knew how to take care of myself at seven, not all that hard is it? Besides,” He finally succeeds in grabbing the bottle out of your hands, “She’s loads smarter than I was back then.”

“Fair enough but you’re not exactly the pinnacle of glowing health, are you?” You replied.

“Well you’ve got me there, haven’t you?” He chuckled, taking a swig from the bottle that he’d been struggled to open just a minute ago.

It probably would have been smarter to leave him to what you expected he did on a regular basis on his own but leaving someone alone and inebriated in this house rubbed your conscience the wrong way so you walked with him around the house. He refused your request that he should drink some water to make sure his hangover wouldn’t be as bad in the morning saying that he probably deserved the punishment of that anyways.

To be fair, once he’d dranken out of the bottle he seemed to be only slightly tipsy so he was probably a pro when it came to drinking, not that that eased your mind about the situation in the slightest. When he’d drank the entirety was really when he stopped his incessant flirting and bragging and become like any normal person with problems and in desperate need of a friend or someone they could talk to.

You learned a little bit about his rocky past, things he felt guilty about, and his terrifying childhood. You felt bad for him and couldn’t help but try and comfort him which was hard when he was slurring his words and occasionally leaning on you for support.

Eventually, you gave up on walking around the house with him and moved to sit down, Murdoc practically crumbling to the ground. Before you knew it, he was sobbing into your shoulder while you held his hand. Moving so that you could run a hand through his hair with your other hand, doing your best to comfort this mess of a man in front of you.

After some time, he ended up passed with his head in your lap and you absentmindedly played with his hair having a feeling the little bit about his past that he’d told you wasn’t anywhere near everything he’d been through.

It definitely wasn’t the night you’d expected and when Russel eventually found you, he’d apologized that you had to deal with Murdoc when he was drunk and that he’d hoped to be home before 2D and Murdoc were.

He lifted Murdoc easily off your lap and thanked you for taking care of Noodle and actually managing to get her to go to sleep which was apparently a harder task then it seemed.

After that night, a mix of curiosity and the urge to help someone you didn’t even know got the best of you and you’d found yourself offering to take care of Noodle frequently. You ignored Murdoc’s flirting and bragging when you got the chance to talk to him and when that didn’t work you countered with smart responses, enjoying your banter and after a while you’d ended making friends with him.

Friends turned to something more and before you knew it, the two of you had begun dating and gone on a plethora of adventures with one another. It wasn’t exactly a healthy relationship but it was close and he promised you that he was working to getting better and you made yourself believe him. In a way, he was but at the same time he was exactly the same as before. Nights numbing his pain in alcohol and drugs. At least he’d stopped the drugs when you’d threatened to leave if he didn’t start treating himself better.

Which ended up in you here, chatting with Noodle while walking around the set to film the El Manana video. Murdoc whispering to the people filming and whoever was in charge of the shoot, you didn’t really pay too much attention to that type of thing, you really only cared about the band members and didn’t give in to the “rock star” persona they carried with them everywhere that they’d go.

Eventually Noodle shooed you away with a hug telling you that she had to get filmed now. You’d bugged her for a few more minutes and then left to sit in between Murdoc and Russel, watching as the camera’s started rolling and Noodle swung her feet over the ledge of the floating island.

Before you knew it, anarchy had ensued and you found yourself numb, staring at the ground back in your own room weeks later and questioning if you could have fixed what had happened. You knew your boyfriend has issues and was sometimes full of cruelty but nothing of this level. Letting Noodle die? Maybe it was an accident but his shout of, “Keep filming! Make you sure you get all of this mate!” echoed in your head, making you unsure of everything.

He’d assured you that it wasn’t like that and he hadn’t gotten Noodle killed, she was fine, she had a parachute, and they’d talked about this before but it’d sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than you.

Suddenly, you shot up from the ground where you’d been sitting with your back against the wall and started packing the things that you absolutely needed into a small suitcase, making your way down the stairs. It wasn’t running away from your problems as it was getting away from what was making you miserable, you told yourself as you ran into Russ and he gave you a head nod, his tired way of saying goodbye with the small amount of energy he had.

You’d forced yourself to give him a broken hearted smile and passed 2D’s room, his sobbing hitting you in your heart and you closed his cracked open door gently so that you wouldn’t bother his mourning process.

It was your luck that you found Murdoc drinking from a bottle, empty glasses surrounding him as he looked up at you with bloodshot eyes not comprehending what was happening at first, the chemicals affecting him slowing his brain’s processing.

“Sorry,” You deadpanned, taking a step to the door before he jumped up, nearly falling in the process.

“Don’t go love, I told you, it was an accident. She’s fine, I’m telling you, Noodle’s grand. She’s out there having the time of her life, she survived! I’m sure of it, have you ever seen her? She’s was a bloody assassin for God’s sake! A little explosion wouldn’t have-” He choked on his words, stopping before trying to regain his composure again.

“We can start over. I’ll do anything, everything can be perfect. Just please don’t leave me,” He finally says, holding onto your shoulders and looking you dead in the eyes.

“I don’t think I can forgive you and, this time, I don’t know if I want to,” You tell him and he lets go of you, knowing anyone caring for him was too good to be true in the first place and that he was always going to ruin it somehow but god, he never imagined it would be because of something like this.

[unavenged-robin]

Children of yesterday

Direct sequel of For thine is the kingdom

Read on AO3

The second time Damian wears the Nightwing costume, it’s because he’s angry at Bruce. Not that he’s ever going to say it out loud, but Jason doesn’t need him to. It takes him just one look to understand.

“Hiya, baby Wing”, he greets him when the boy lands right on top of one the thugs currently trying to kill him.

“Don’t call me that”, Damian grumbles under his breath while he moves on to take down the next criminal.

Jason snorts and lands a few punch of his own, having care to never leave Damian out of his peripheral vision.

“Thought you’d like it better than baby Bat, considering the change of theme.”

Damian doesn’t respond to the barb. He just lowers his brow and keeps beating the daylight out of Penguin's’ men. Which, in a way, is exactly the answers Jason knew he was going to get.

But well, beating the lowlife it’s cheaper than actual therapy and provides a useful service to the community, so Jason’s more than okay with it. He still keeps an eye on the kid anyway, because he knows that kind of mindset and the troubles that come with it. He’s never been the family’s favorite babysitter for the kids, but he’s not a bad one, despite what Dick says behind his back.

But fighting side by side with Damian all dressed up in the Nightwing gears is a few degree of weirdness above the usual, and Jason finds himself distracted more than once. He has to put up with a few lame punches that otherwise would’ve never find their target, and yet he still keeps studying the new Nightwing’s performance.

The fighting style is so recklessly Damian it would be impossible to mistake him for anyone else. The cold precision of his movements, the silent and once-upon-a-time lethal fury, they’re all Damian’s traits, but the kid’s making an effort in throwing in a few acrobatics pieces that are unmistakingly Nightwing’s signature. There is so much more, though. The meticulousness of the beating is all Bruce, for example. The controlled sequence of punches in all the right places, the way he uses every surface and every shadows to his advantage. Jason looks at him and sees a much younger version of himself training in the cave, Bruce looming over him, the sweet smell of Alfred’s cooking in the air.

“Hood!”

There’s a knife in Damian’s hand. And there’s a thug with a broken arm at Jason’s feet.

“I had that under control, kiddo”, Jason lies lazily. “But thank you anyway, it’s so sweet to know you care.”

“I’ll stab you myself if you don’t focus on the fight”, Damian promises with a snarl, and Jason laughs because no, he will not, and they both know that.

It’s funny to think that Damian was a lot more of a threat when he was a scrawny ten years old who barely reached Jason’s elbow than he is now, at eighteen, not yet taller or thicker than him, but definitely on his way to (although Jason’s still cradling the hope for Damian to get just a little bit taller than Dick and still be shorter than him, because that would be what perfection looks like in his book).

Anyway, on any other night Jason would’ve replied to the kid’s threat with something along the line of “both of your daddies would be so very upset to hear that”, but obviously tonight’s not the right time to push that issue. Not if Jason wants to avoid a black eye and a long conversation about daddy issues where he has to be the reasonable party and not the angry one.

Besides, he’s not sure he could be of help even if he tried. Jason’s never asked too many question about Dick and Bruce’s arrangement about Damian’s parentage. He never felt the need to, and for the better part of the time, he was also in no position to ask anything.

When Jason died he had a father, a grandfather and an older brother with a pregnant girlfriend. When he came back he had a father, a grandfather, an older brother, a sister in law, a niece and two little brothers, and one of said little brothers was also his older brother’s son. It was ridiculous and borderline shakespearian, and it amused him to no end. Still does, sometimes, especially during Christmas family dinners and such.

Jason takes care of another few thugs, then he leans against a wall and watches the new Nightwing in town doing his best to adjust the few remaining criminals’ bones in the most creative way he can think. He should probably tell him to take it a bit easier, but a bad night is a bad night, and it’s not like he’s in the right position to scold anyone about using violence as a stress relief.

But once all men are on the ground, Damian’s shoulders slump down, and the kid’s stance suddenly looks defeated, even if he’s standing in the middle of an alley littered with moaning enemies.

So Jason sighs and pushes himself up. Walking towards him, he wraps an arm around Damian’s shoulders and pulls the kid closer to him and away from the thugs.

“Celebratory beer?”, he proposes.

He’s rewarded with a sideway smirk under the familiar blue domino mask.

“You would give alcohol to an underage vigilante, Hood?”

“Well, what kind of fun older brother would I be if I did not buy my little brother his first beer?”, Jason smiles back.

“The kind of fun older brother who would think that it’d be my first beer”, Damian retorts. “You’re worse than Bruce, honestly.”

“Oh, so he’s Bruce now? That bad, uh?”, Jason teases. “Well, at least he’s not Wayne yet, so if you want my professional opinion, I think there’s still hope.”

Damian elbows him in the ribs but Jason can tell he’s biting down another grin.

“Shut up.”

He doesn’t add anything and Jason doesn’t push. He’s never been one for touchy-feelings conversations and his family knows that. He ruffles the kid’s hair, then moves away.

“C’mon, brat, I’ll give you a ride home.”

Damian shakes his head at his offer.

“I’ll keep patrolling.”

Jason doesn’t know if he wants to sigh or frown at the idea. It’s not like Damian’s never patrolled alone before - far from it, actually - but it still feels like he has to say something about it. He just can’t decide what. So he keeps it simple.

“Damian.”

But the kid’s already taking out his grappling hook and only spares him a quick, stubborn glance.

“It’s fine.”

“Sure.”

They stare at each other for a moment, and Jason finds himself relenting almost immediately. He smiles behind his mask and waves his hand to motion for the kid to move on.

“You’re welcome, by the way”, Damian taunts before vanishing up in the dark.

Jason scoffs and fishes out a phone from his back pocket.

“Hey”, he starts conversationally, without giving the other the time to put in even a hello?. “Just wanted to let you know I spotted a wild Nightwing running around Gotham. Looked a little bit like you, but way, way younger and good looking. Know anyone who may fit the description?”

*

Dick knew since the exact moment he and Kory signed up Damian’s adoption papers that this conversation was not going to be a one time thing.

They talked about it before the adoption was finalized, and they talked about it after, and then again when Bruce came back. They talked about it during sleepless nights and tiring days, over too excited family dinners and boring patrols. They talked about it with Damian and Mar’i, with Tim and Barbara, Cassandra and Stephanie, with Bruce and Alfred, and even with Talia Al Ghul. And every time he talked about it, Dick felt like he had burning stones settled in his guts.

Tonight is no exception, of course.

When this thing started, he had no idea this is how it would’ve ended. Wouldn’t have believed it, if someone had told him.

When Bruce died and Damian came crashing into their lives, he was living in Blüdhaven with Kory and Mar’i. They had a house and friends and a good, long-established routine. They were happy, Dick remembers that. Moving back to Gotham was a sacrifice he didn’t do light-heartedly. Took a month for him to even start considering it. And when he did, he had to face Damian, this ten years old child who had just lost everything, living alone with Alfred in the empty shell of what it used to be his father’s house, and Dick just couldn’t bear it. So he took him in, because it was the right thing to do, and as a reward for his good action the first few weeks in the new house had been pure hell. Alfred did his best to keep everything together, but Dick was suffering, Mar’i was heartbroken, Damian was angry, Kory didn’t know what to do, and they were all mourning. On top of that the kids kept fighting and screaming at each other and Dick had lost his patience more than once.

That was the worst thing. Not bearing Bruce’s unwanted legacy, not training a new, arrogant, insufferable Robin, not even having to put up again with a city he thought he’d left behind, but seeing his family so broken. The fights with Tim, Cassandra’s absence, Barbara’s distance, Jason’s criminal rampage, Mar’i and Damian hating each other and being very vocal about it.

In retrospect, Dick really doesn’t know how he survived it. How they all survived to the anger and the blame and the constant suffering. And yet, he thinks now, smiling at Gotham’s cloudy sky, in the end they managed to do it oh so well.

He still remembers the first time he realized that things were finally starting to change for the better. It was maybe a few months after they moved to Gotham, he was pulling a late shift at the police station, working on a double homicide case, and he’d received a text from Kory. It was a photo, and at first he only saw the caption: two red heart emojis. Which, coming from Koriand’r, could mean anything, Dick had mused. But when he opened it, he found himself staring in surprise at two kids, one laying on his back, in a kind of funny, familiar soldier-like position, the other sprawled on top of the first one, face smushed into his shoulder, both deep asleep. Afterwards Dick had to admit that it took him a moment to recognize Damian and Mar’i (something Kory had found so, so funny).

It’s a good memory, one of his most treasured ones. He keeps it in mind now, while he swings from one building to another towards the coordinates Jason gave him.

*

He finds Damian on top of an old building, very close to where their penthouse used to be. It’s still a weird feeling, seeing him wearing his old costume, but overall it’s not an unpleasant one.

Dick lands on the roof with his usual quietness, but he doesn’t bother with hiding his presence. He knows Damian’s already spotted him.

“I have a joke”, he greets him then. “Two Nightwings walk into a bar, the bartender says-”

“Are you angry?”, Damian asks.

“No, that’s not how the joke goes.”

Damian huffs and reaches out to the back of his head to pull up a hood that’s not there. When he realizes his mistake Damian clenches his hands into fists before dropping them down on his lap. Dick’s heart hurts a little.

He sits beside him on the edge of the roof and bumps him with his shoulder to let him know that it’s okay, that angry is the last thing he would ever be, and Damian seems to understand the message well enough, but still refuses to look up at him.

“How does the joke go, then?”

“No idea. I didn’t come up with a punchline because I was counting on you interrupting me right away.”

Damian snorts and his feature softens in a way that Dick still finds heart-clenching, even after all these years. While he doesn’t mind doing it, he hates that he still has to reassure Damian that he’s loved - always, always loved - and that one burst of anger (because apparently they’re not allowed to call them tantrums anymore) is not going to change anything, not ever. Not for Dick, not for Bruce, not for anyone.

“You’re a ridiculous man.”

“Well, you’re a very serious kid”, Dick replies. “I have to compensate.”

Damian hums like he’s humoring him, and raises his head to stare at Gotham’s skyline. Dick doesn’t push him, but he reaches out to briefly rub a hand against the kid’s back in a silent invitation.

“Sometimes”, Damian starts, voice soft but steady. “I feel like he’s relieved when we go back to the cave to change after patrol and I leave to come home to you. And sometimes I feel like he’s angry at me for not staying, for- for betraying him like this.”

Dick sucks a breath between his teeth.

“Damian, you never betrayed him.”

“I did”, Damian objects. “I betrayed my mother for him, and I betrayed him for you. What does that say about me?”

“That you still have trouble understanding how this family thing works, kiddo.”

Damian frowns and for a moment Dick really believes that this time the kid’s going to listen to him. To, at least, take in consideration the idea that there’s no foul play here, that family is not an army or a political party. But he senses the defeat even before he sees Damian shaking his head.

“I made a choice”, the kid states. “And it was mine, not Father’s, and not yours or Kory’s.”

Dick remembers it differently.

He remembers coming back home two days after Bruce’s return from the dead to find Damian’s stuff packed and his bags piled up by the front door. He remembers hearing Mar’i cry and Damian refusing to answer her questions, the sound of skin hitting skin and his daughter flying away from them when he entered the living room.

He remembers Damian looking up at him, right cheek still red from Mar’i’s slap.

“He’s my father.”

And it sounded like a question, so Dick answered.

“So am I.”

It hurt to see the grimace on Damian’s face, it hurt even more when the boy licked his lips and looked away before speaking.

“It’s- that’s not the same thing.”

Damian was eleven by then. And Dick knew that all his reasons could not overthrow a decade of Al Ghul’s convictions about legacies and bloodlines. So he reached out and pulled Damian to his chest, hugged him close, kissed the top oh his head.

“You don’t have to choose”, he murmured into the boy’s hair. “No one will ever ask you to choose, Damian. Not me and not Bruce. And whatever you decide to do, no one will get angry. I promise you that.”

It was obvious that Damian didn’t believe him in the slightest. And in a dark corner of his mind Dick had thought that the kid was expecting not only a choice, but also the resulting punishment, and he just couldn’t shake off the idea that Damian was choosing Bruce because he’d expect a worse punishment from him than from Dick.

It angered him, but he was ready to let Damian go anyway. Because he felt guilty towards Bruce, because he felt like it was not his place, not his choice. But then Damian had tightened his fists, pushed himself closer to Dick and without even looking up, he had asked him a question.

“Then can I stay?”

That whisper had hurt him then, and it keeps hurting him everytime he thinks about it, because Damian never asked it again, not in words, but Dick can still hear it sometimes. Knows that Kory can hear it too. He hears it again tonight, underneath everything else, and he shuts his eyes close, inhaling and breathing out Gotham’s cold air with a sigh.

“It was your choice”, Dick agrees. “And Bruce’s. And mine and Kory’s. Kiddo, believe me, if we didn’t all agree that it was the best thing for you, then our arrangement would’ve been different, you know that.”

And at the time there had been indeed a lot of discussions about other viable options. But what Dick remembers better than anything else, was Bruce sitting at his desk, features unreadable as ever as he examined the adoption papers, his fingers hovering over Damian’s name and Dick’s signature, like he was looking for the right clues to piece together a story of which he only knew the ending. Like they were one of his cases to be solved and not just his family.

His mouth suddenly feels dry, so Dick swallows, then reaches out for Damian’s hand before continuing.

“And I know how Bruce gets. I know that sometimes it feels like that whatever you do is not good enough for him, that you disappoint him in every little things. But believe this too: even if that’s the case, and not only your insecurity getting the best of you, then that’s Bruce’s problem, not yours”, Dick explains softly. “As long as you do your best, as long as you feel like you’re doing what’s right for you, then other people's expectations are nothing more than a suggestion, something you have to decide for yourself whether to accept or ignore. That’s especially true if we are talking about parents, both biological and adoptive. We don’t always know best, you know?”

Damian makes a snorting noise but doesn’t pound in on that like he usually would. For someone who was born with a destiny and a carefully planned life, it’s confusing to be told that there is no great scheme, that life is not a war to be won. Dick understands that.

“You planning on keeping that suit for yourself or you prefer keep stealing it every now and then?”, he asks then, to lighten the mood. “Because I don’t mind either way, but replacing the locks every night could become annoying.”

“I’ll fix them”, Damian mutters. “Sorry”, he adds then, as an afterthought.

“You didn’t answer me”, Dick points out.

“Are you really only asking about your suit”, Damian muses. “Or are you asking me if I’m ditching Robin?”

Dick stretches his arms, clasps his hands behind his head and lays down on his back against the cold concrete of the roof. It takes Damian less than a minute to let out an exasperated sigh and follow his example. Dick smiles and closes his eyes again.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do, kiddo”, he answers when he feels Damian’s head resting against his arm. “Just that I’m going to be proud of you whatever you decide to do.”

And this time, at least, Damian doesn’t question his words or the feeling behind it.

[cosmosogler]

i got just about everything done that needed to be done today. i need to check if i’m actually registered for specific classes yet or not and continue with ongoing studies but other than that i got a lot done.

first thing i did was get up at 9:20, which is just a bit earlier than i’ve been getting up lately. tonight i’m gonna try for bed at 11:30 to see about getting up at 8 or 8:15. right now it’s 10:35 so i’m in the clear for now.

gotta let dad know i will be accompanying eve to the vet on friday.

i showered and got the final bandages off. my bellybutton actually only has a tiny cut. not into it, but around the inside in a semi-circle. there wasn’t any extra blood or anything, it’s all closed nicely. i’m guessing there’s just a lot of blood flow through that area of your body and that’s why the bandages looked a lot more severe. i even scrubbed off ALMOST all the residue at long last. there’s a little bit left around a scab i didn’t want to irritate too much. my stomach finally looks like i was lightly injured instead of operated on. taking off the tape helped a lot honestly. none of the incisions look like they will leave a noticeable scar.

modern medicine really is impressive. when my gramma had her gallbladder out just 10 years ago or so it left a definite mark along her side.

anyway after that i looked up a lot of finance stuff and compiled a list of resources to review again later. stuff explaining, like, what investment is and how it works and why it’s preferable to just putting everything in a savings account. and what a retirement fund looks like and the differences between all the varieties. i think i am going to have to actually have someone at the bank sit me down and explain how my accounts work though. and maybe how to tone down mom’s control over my finances. definitely want to do that BEFORE i leave, as there is no open branch in gainesville.

looks like i could even bring mom along on saturday if we need, like, negotiations or something. i’ll keep looking into it.

then i went to the grocery store and got some tortilla chips, and some dog treats since you get a dollar off (which is like 20%!) if you got a membership. i got the old favorite, bacon and blueberry. i’m gonna start giving them to the dogs after eve’s surgery. i’m hoping cookies will lift her mood.

then i ate an entire bowl full of sharon’s salsa and also heated up some leftover pizza. i was really full afterward but i’m glad i didn’t overdo it with the salsa. i didn’t actually fill up the entire bowl until it overflowed. i only reasonably filled it.

the pizza made me SUPER sick afterward. i spent a while listening to music while i looked at the rest of my finance resource tabs. then i downloaded an app that tracks how long you spend each day working on individual long-term projects and helps you pace yourself with timers and scheduled breaks and stuff. i even coughed up the five dollars for no ads. 

i spent an hour giving it a try! i added a few projects to work on over the next week, and stuff i thought would probably be important to keep up with at school like “study physics.” for now i just timed myself organizing some bookmarks. it was nice actually. i got all my folders where i want them, i cleared out my “general” tab into the appropriate folders, and i started going through one of the larger folders looking for dead links or things that were sorted incorrectly back when i made the folder like five years ago.

the hope is that if i streamline my folders enough i will be encouraged to actually look in them sometimes? at least my music folder is looking fantastic. i’ve got it sorted into genre and a subfolder for things i would like to buy when i have money for it.

i hope i can make good use of this app. it seems promising so far.

then i took care of some ufl orientation stuff and a survey i found in my email. and i signed and sent off some paperwork. then i went to dinner with gramma and grampa, my brother, and the cousins. this time my brother did invite my sister but she stayed home because she and mom wanted to go to the movies. (mom flaked out on the movie. but gramma is going with her tomorrow.)

i ordered a veggie burger, and the waitress wrote it down and read it back to me correctly, but when i got my food i took a bite out of the burger and got a mouthful of Double Beef Patty. 

i always feel like i’m put in a complicated situation when this happens. and it does happen a lot. like, on one hand, i really don’t want to eat meat! and i am very out of practice with digesting meat! and now i am even more unable to digest it due to the gallbladder thing!! but on the other hand, not eating the meat isn’t going to bring the animal back to life. it feels like if i refuse to eat it the animal died for nothing. no one else is going to eat it now that it’s on my plate sitting in front of me. 

i felt bad because i really did get sick. i wanted to avoid too much more fat because of the pizza for lunch. veggie burgers are usually pretty good about that, and i got a side salad instead of fries or anything. i dunno. the waitress was nice about it and it wasn’t her fault. i hope that didn’t affect the tip grampa gave her. mom said he tips badly in general anyway though.

after that we went back to gramma’s house and i had another klondike bar and played “village idiot” with my brother and austin and thomas. i lost only once out of the four rounds even with austin very carefully explaining each turn of the game to me constantly and telling me my options when my cards were face up. i teased him about it after the first round and he let me just play. i did get a lot better at it after the second round though.

thomas did the “kill yourself” thing again but it seemed to be more that he was very enthusiastic about the game and it had become his go-to phrase at some point before the first time he told me that.

after the game my brother and thomas and i were screwing around on austin’s computer. my brother knew most of his social circle so we were just goofing off on discord.

then my brother and i came across a channel where austin had posted pictures of my sister (taken from screenshots of her snap chat a few months ago) and had received some very... inappropriate comments on her appearance. i asked who the guy was and his age and he apparently is older than even me. that made me REALLY upset. when austin got back my brother looked at him and was all “what the hell is this?” and i told him not to show them pictures of us any more. he seemed confused? but he also said “ok.” 

i talked it over with asher when grampa was driving me and my brother home. asher was real nice about it at least. when we got home i took wiley on another lap around the neighborhood in 100-degree heat, and then i told my sister what happened. she thanked me for telling her and said i did everything i could already. 

it was actually kind of nice that she thanked me for once. i usually get a response more along the lines of “o....k....????” when i try to talk with my sister. or “that’s just how she is” when i talk about mom. i recognize that my sister has a very different (but just as complicated and stressful) relationship with my mother than i do.

what did i do after that... it looks like i just checked some comics and watched an episode of nostalgia critic and folding ideas. and watched another physics video. i’m kind of relieved that it’s coming back to me fairly easily. i’ll try to keep up with it tomorrow. tomorrow evening we are entertaining jamey and her kids (part 2!) it looks like the oldest one just got pokemon moon so i can finally give her the espeon i spent that one evening training up haha. hopefully in exchange for transferring all her pokemon up to the new game she will help me evolve my machoke. 

i’m a little nervous about how much i should really... talk to her or ask her about herself. she’s ten years younger than me. like what’s polite and what’s too much? will she think i’m being patronizing if i start explaining too much about pokemon or whatever? should i ask what kinds of tv shows she likes? would it be weird if we talked about steven universe or something?

i know i was just a kid a few years ago but i already don’t remember how they work. this is weird. i seem to remember telling myself i would never not understand someone my age but i don’t remember when that was. probably when i was like nine. i have a lot of “shower thoughts” style wisdom chunks to impart on a younger generation but i always figured it would be, like, my brother’s kids at some point in the far future. 

god. i’m babysitting my old babysitter’s kids. i want to treat them with the respect i would give an adult but at the same time there is a difference in how kids work compared to adults. i don’t know where i’d be overestimating or underestimating. underestimating kids is insulting to them, of course, i remember that, but i feel like overestimating is a lot more... stressful and dangerous.

i guess i’ll figure it out as i go. 

i’m worried about eve... she seems like she’s about ready to give up. she just seems so exhausted when i come over to pet her. she barely lifts her head. she doesn’t greet me at the door since she doesn’t spend time with the other dogs when i’m not home. so she doesn’t hear the front door open or close.

i need her to hang on for just one more day. i wish i could tell her that. one day before she can exchange this problem for a set of less insurmountable problems. i really hope that the amputation is helpful for her. even if she only lives a couple more months, if she’s able to “live” again, it will have been worth it. by “live” i mean stuff like getting around when she wants to. eating. wagging her tail. thinking a little more clearly. not being irritable and frustrated and confused all the time.

she’s sleeping right now. at least it passes the time i guess. i still get the feeling that she’s the one taking care of me instead of the other way around. i check on her a lot but when she’s not sleeping she’s usually watching me. she almost never leaves the room i’m in and almost always follows me as soon as i leave. she has gotten better at “stay, i will be right back” at least. i wish there was more i could do for her right now. 

[secretschuylersister]

The Old College Try (Lin/Reader roommate AU)

Summary: You spent the summer before your freshman year of college thinking your roommate was going to be a girl named Lin. When you get to campus, that’s not what you find.

Part One: In which there are rooming assignment mishaps, salsa dancing, and Lunchables.  

You can find Part Two here!

You can find Part Three here!

Note: Write-a-thon Day 1! This can probably stand alone, but I’m tentatively calling it Part 1 out of 3. College!Lin is hard to walk away from, and I have plans for him.

Rating: T

Words: 2803

“What’s your roommate’s name again?”

You were crammed in the backseat of your parents’ car, all of your bags that didn’t fit into the trunk stacked precariously around you.

“The housing assignment letter said her name is Lin, she intends to be a theater major, and she’s from New York. That’s really all I know, mom,” you responded shortly, tired of repeating the same information over and over again.

“Theater is exciting, and it’s nice that she already knows what she wants to study!”

You ignored the pointed remark and looked out the window. Your parents meant well, but they could be exhausting, and you really wanted to enjoy today. You had spent the entire summer anxiously awaiting move-in day and it was finally here.

Your excitement ratcheted up when your car turned into the beautiful campus that was going to be your home for the next four years. Your hand was pressed against the car window as you rolled past the old buildings in search of a place to park. Your parents finally found the lot near your building, and you left them to start unloading the trunk while you signed in and got your room key.

After meeting your R.A and collecting your key, you found your parents and the three of you trekked up to your room, balancing suitcases and bags in your arms. You fumbled with the key but got your door open, and walked inside the pleasantly cool dorm room.

“Wow, this is fantastic,” your dad exclaimed as he took a look around the room.

You had to agree. Your room was much larger than you had expected, and it was in one of the newer buildings, which meant things actually functioned. You had beaten your roommate here so you also had your pick of the furniture.

After getting all of your belongings into your new room, you exchanged teary hugs goodbye with your parents and started unpacking. You had gotten most of the big stuff done when a girl from down the hall knocked on your door.

“Hi, I’m Tess! I just wanted to know if you wanted to come with my roommate and I to grab some lunch.”

You both laughed as your stomach growled. “That’s embarrassing, but I guess it also gives you your answer!”

Tess introduced you to her roommate, Lanie, and the three of you used your campus map to locate the nearest dining hall. You showed your student ID cards at the door and grabbed a tray to fill with food.

“Have you met your roommate yet?” asked Lanie.

“Nope, she must not be coming until later in the day. It’s been just me all morning.”

“Hopefully she’s cool. If not, you can drag your bed into our room,” teased Tess. “We won’t have room to walk, but it’ll be like a sleepover every night.”

The three of you spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the campus, trying to get a feel for where everything was. Tess and Lanie were both hilarious and you were beyond relieved to have made two friends already.

“What do you guys want to do tonight?” asked Lanie. “There’s supposed to be a ton of stuff going on.”

“You guys can make plans. I want to see if my roommate ever showed up and then maybe the four of us can meet up later?”

The girls agreed and you made your way back to the dorm on your own. The door to your dorm room was unlocked, and you felt a little nervous as you realized that meant your roommate was there. You took a deep breath and walked inside.

“Hey, I’m-” you started to introduce yourself but abruptly paused when you saw that the person in the room wasn’t your roommate but was instead a guy with dark eyes. “Oh, sorry. I thought you were my roommate. Do you know Lin?”

The guy in question cocked his head in confusion and grabbed a sheet of paper off the desk. “This is room 625, right? Building B?”

You nodded, looking equally confused.

“And this is your room?”

“Yes…?”

He held out a hand for you to shake. “Hey, roomie. I’m Lin. Lin-Manuel, actually, but Lin is fine.”

“What?” you asked, baffled and frustrated. “You’re my roommate? You’re a guy!”

“You’re observant, I’ll give you that,” he teased, an unreasonably amused smile spreading across his face.

You ripped the piece of paper out of his hands and confirmed what he had just told you. His room assignment put the two of you together.

“How did you not notice something was up when you saw my name?” you asked.

“I moved this summer and I guess the school didn’t update my information fast enough. I didn’t get that paper until this afternoon when I showed up at move-in, and honestly, I didn’t read past my room number.”

You nodded and sighed. “Well, obviously they’ve dropped the ball big time. We’ll have to go to the housing office tomorrow.”

“We could do that, or…”

“Or?”

“Or we could not. It’s just that one of us is gonna have to move, and this is the only air conditioned freshman dorm. Plus it’s a corner room, so it’s huge. Wherever we end up will be way worse than this.”

“Are you kidding?” you asked through a laugh. “You’re not, are you?”

“I have a sister, so living with a girl doesn’t bother me as much as living in a tiny, sweltering room would,” he shrugged. “I’m not gonna, like, watch you change if that’s what you're worried about.”

You laughed again. “I wasn’t worried about that until you said it.”

He started laughing with you and you finally noticed that he was actually kind of cute. You thought of Tess and Lanie and figured you’d at least have somewhere to crash if you needed it.

“This will probably be a disaster, but okay,” you gave in, throwing up your hands. “I honestly just don’t feel like packing up all my stuff again, and I’ll admit the air conditioning is nice. You know we’ll have to keep this quiet, right? Otherwise goodbye fancy room.”

“Secret roomies. Sounds kind of cool.”

Just as Lin got his sentence out, Lanie and Tess both flew into the room.

“Hey, we just got invited to a party and wanted to...oh, hi. Our new friend over here never mentioned a boyfriend,” Lanie teased, looking at you with her eyebrows raised.

“That’s because there’s no boyfriend to mention. This is Lin.”

“Shut the fuck up,” laughed Tess. “As in your roommate Lin? I’m suddenly disappointed with Lanie.”

You noticed Lin flush, and smiled to yourself. He really was cute.

You introduced Lin to the girls and both of you explained the mix-up together. Lanie and Tess both promised to keep the information to themselves, and help you keep the situation quiet however they could.

“So, you were saying something about a party?” asked Lin.

“Yes!” exclaimed Tess. “Non-freshmen don’t move in for another two days, but apparently fraternities and sororities are here already. We got invited to our first frat party!”

“So a bunch of frat guys and drunk freshmen? Seems like a bad time,” you reasoned.

You got hit with double puppy eyes from Lanie and Tess. “Come on, it’ll be so much fun. We can’t go without you. We promise not to get too drunk!”

“Are you in?” you asked Lin, who shrugged.

“Could be fun,” he answered.

“Okay,” you sighed. “I’m in.”

Tess and Lanie were full of shit, as it turned out. Both girls proceeded to get completely plastered almost immediately, leaving you mildly annoyed and fully stressed out.

“You know you don’t have to babysit them, right?” Lin asked.

He had blessedly stayed mostly sober and although a few girls had asked him to dance, he stayed by your side. “I kind of do, though. The most sober friend always has to watch out for the drunk ones. Welcome to life as a girl.”

He winced. “Right, you’re right. Sorry. I’ll help.”

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye and grinned a little. “You’re kind of nice, you know that?”

You laughed as he knocked his shoulder into yours. “I don’t love how surprised you sound.”

“I have a feeling you're going to be full of surprises.”

“Babysitters can have a little fun, right?” he asked, holding his hand out to you. “We can watch them and dance at the same time.”

“Lin, I am stone cold sober. I'm not dancing.”

“Come on,” he teased, moving his feet and hips in a way that was not entirely unattractive. It was actually completely attractive, if you were being honest.

“Are you...dancing salsa? In a frat house?”

“I am, and so are you,” he responded, grabbing your hand and putting the other on your waist.

“Lin, I don't know how!” you shouted, giggling out of both amusement and nerves. “I'm going to embarrass myself.”

“I think we’ll be embarrassing ourselves in front of each other plenty. Now follow my lead, I'll teach you.”

Before long your hair was flying all over the place and you were laughing as Lin twirled you while you clumsily tried to mimic his movements. He dipped you just as the song came to an end and smiled widely as he brought you back up.

“Not bad for a beginner. We’ll have you in competitions by the end of the year.”

You snorted. “It's cute that you think I'm ever doing this again. Adorable, actually.”

“Oh admit it, you were having fun.”

As soon as he said that, you realized you had lost eyes on Tess and Lanie.

“Oh shit,” you mumbled to yourself as you scanned the room. Lin must have realized what you were doing, because he started looking around, too.

You and Lin split up to look for the girls and you were eventually the one to find them. They were in the kitchen, somehow even more drunk than before, and surrounded by a group of guys who were handing them shots. You felt a little sick to your stomach as you ran through ideas to get them out of there without causing a scene. Just as you were about to give up and just drag them with you, Lin walked into the kitchen.

“Yo, cops are coming,” he said loudly, resting a hand on your back.

Everyone started taking off, and Lin intercepted Lanie and Tess as they tried to leave with the group. You each took a girl and led them out of the house, Tess belligerently grabbing a six pack on her way out the door.

The fresh air felt incredible on your skin after being packed in a stuffy house for the last few hours. “Are cops really coming?” you asked Lin after taking a few breaths.

“No,” he snorted. “I just figured it was the best way to get those assholes to leave a few drunk girls alone without a fight. You looked about a second away from trying to take them all on.”

“It wouldn't have been my best plan,” you conceded as Lin smirked at you.

You were glad the distance from the party to your dorm was a short one, because Tess had several inches on you and supporting her weight was becoming a trial. Once you made it inside, you fished the key out of her pocket and Lin helped you put the two roommates to bed. You told Lin you could take it from there, and he went to your room while you pulled the girls’ shoes off and covered them with a blanket. After leaving them with water on their desks for the morning, you joined Lin.

“Look what I stole,” you said, holding up the beer Tess had taken from the party. “I probably shouldn't now, though, I'm starving and foodless.”

“I have just the thing,” he answered, rolling off his bed and walking over to the mini-fridge. “Pizza or nachos?”

You laughed out loud when you saw Lin holding up two Lunchables. “Nachos, please.”

He tossed you the box and the two of you sat cross-legged on his bed, eating elementary school snacks and drinking cheap beer. As you traded the chocolate bars in your box, you were hit with a rush of gratitude for your roommate.

“Hey Lin? Thank you for everything. Tonight could have gone really differently if you weren't there.”

“I just did what anyone would have done,” he said, seeming a little touched but waving it off.

“No,” you shook your head. “Believe me, most guys wouldn't have helped me liked you did.”

“I don't know if that's true, but I promise to have your back whenever you need me,” he said and raised his beer to clink against yours in a toast. You had only known him for a day, but you believed him. “And you traded your superior Crunch bar for my Hershey’s, so we can call it even.”

Lin grabbed your trash to throw away outside while you grabbed your things to take a shower. By the time you got back to the room, Lin had already changed into pajamas and was listening to music, the volume low so as not to annoy anyone in the rooms next door. He shut the music off completely when he saw you getting into bed and then laid back down on his own.

“You don't have to do that,” you assured him. “I'm not really going to sleep yet.”

“I'm not tired yet, either. Want to talk?” he asked, rolling onto his side and looking at you from across the room.

You smiled to yourself as you looked at his face. He was clearly lying, because the boy looked exhausted. “You sure you don't want to go to bed?”

“I'd rather talk to you.”

And so you talked. You told him about your parents and your friends from home. He laughed at what you thought he'd be like when you still assumed he was a she. He confirmed he was going to study theater and shared some stories about his many performances as a kid. It was around four that morning when his eyes started to close against his will. You let the conversation trail off and he finally drifted off to sleep, you following him soon after.

You woke up late the next morning to the smell of coffee and a gentle nudge on the shoulder. You blearily looked up at Lin, who grinned at your sleepy expression.

“It's eleven, so I thought you'd probably want to get up. I'll leave your coffee on your desk.”

“Thank you,” you croaked. “That was really nice, how much do I owe you?”

“You can get the next ones. I'm going to take a shower,” he replied, grabbing a towel.

You drank your coffee and got dressed before going to check on Tess and Lanie. Both were awake, miserable, and highly apologetic.

“We’ll never drink again,’” swore Lanie.

You raised a brow at her and Tess jumped in to clarify. “We’ll never get that drunk again.”

“That's probably also a lie, but I'll take it,” you laughed. “The night wound up being okay, anyway. I'll forgive you.”

“Yeah, your hot roommate got to play protective boyfriend all night. What are you complaining about?” joked Tess

“Shut up. He was just being a good friend, to me and to both of you.”

“Oh, I'm sure he wants to be a very good friend to you,” replied Tess suggestively, making Lanie giggle.

“You guys both suck and I hope your hangovers last forever.”

You left their room without saying goodbye and walked back into your own just as Lin was tugging on a shirt. His hair was damp, and between that and the conversation you had just had, you were flustered.

“We can't hook up,” you spat out without thinking. Lin looked completely bewildered and you rushed to continue. “I'm not saying that you want to! Or that I want to! I just mean that sometimes things can happen, and if we’re living together, we can't accidentally do anything. It would make it weird.”

You wanted to die when you finished blabbering and saw the smirk on Lin’s face.  

“Worried I might try to seduce you?” he asked teasingly. You flushed beet red and you tried to cut him off but he kept going. “Okay. I promise to try and resist your womanly wiles if you think you can manage to avoid falling under my spell. Promise?”

Your embarrassment faded as you laughed at his antics. He held out his pinky and you linked it with yours. “I promise.”

He lifted your pinky to kiss and you suddenly wondered if it was a promise you could keep.

[rythyme]

3. Wingman // Nurseydex

« {Part 3 of my Valentine’s collection.} »

a/n: sorry, this is two days late, but it’s also almost 3k, so.... hopefully that makes up for the tardiness? also! please note that this fic doesn’t have anything to do with ngozi’s short comic, wingman. your characters are safe. content warning for underage alcohol usage.

This is definitely not what Dex signed up for.

He’d expected Nursey Patrol to involve limiting Nursey’s shots and keeping him from dancing on tables, which, okay, would have sucked, but this is honestly not much better.

“Soooo, have you met Dex?” Nursey says for the third time this night, like imitating Neil Patrick Harris is still funny. He’s dragged Dex over to yet another group of female athletes that he’s going to have to do his best to avoid for the next three years of his college career. Nice.

“Hi,” Dex says awkwardly. “I’m Dex.”

“Pssh, I just said that,” Nursey says, slinging an arm over Dex’s shoulder and leaning on him only a little more heavily than he might have done sober. “He’s usually a lot brighter than this, ladies. He’s a CompSci major­—super smart with computers and shit. Plus all that typing means he’s good with his fingers, if you know what I mean. Just look at those hands—”

“Okay, that’s enough, Nurse. Sorry, you guys, um. Bye.”

He pulls Nursey away from the girls and—fuck, he’s pretty sure one of them is in his Stats class, dammit. Nursey stumbles behind him obediently, letting Dex drag him over to the kitchen. Dex fills Nursey a glass of water and Nursey drinks it dutifully, standing next to the fridge.

“Okay, so remind me why you’re trying to humiliate me in front of half of Samwell’s female population?” Dex demands when Nursey finishes the glass.

“‘M not humiliating you,” Nursey insists, then waggles his ridiculous eyebrows. “I’m trying to get you laid.”

“Well, thanks but no thanks,” Dex says. “I can manage on my own, thank you very much.”

“Chyeah, I’m sure you can,” Nursey says suggestively, making a lewd gesture.

Dex isn’t blushing. “Oh my fucking god, Nurse, could you, you know, shut the fuck up? Why do you want to get me laid, anyway?”

Nursey laughs, swaying close enough that Dex can easily feel Nursey’s boozy breath on his face. He stage-whispers in his ear, “You need to get that stick out of your ass, Poindexter.”

“Fuck you, Nurse.”

“Nah, bro, fuck you. That’s the whole point.”

“Why is this your job, seriously?” Dex asks, trying to change the subject. He really didn’t want to keep talking with Nursey about fucking, and he wasn’t buzzed enough to admit to himself exactly why.

“It’s my job to find you hook-ups, bro. D-Man duty, or whatever. Ransom and Holster play wingman for each other all the time.”

As if the act of saying their names had summoned them there, Ransom and Holster suddenly burst into the kitchen, beers sloshing.

“Dude, don’t say that word,” Holster says. Ransom nods in agreement.

“Which word?” Nursey asks. “You mean wing—”

“Shh,” Ransom says, lurching forward to put a hand over Nursey’s mouth. “Don’t say the W-word.”

“How come?” Dex asks, because now he’s curious.

“Dunno,” Holster says with a shrug. “Just, a few years ago, Johnson—”

“He was the goalie before Chowder,” Ransom adds.

“Yeah, Johnson heard us using the word and freaked out. Like, seriously freaked.”

“Kept babbling about angels and firefighters and shit.”

“So we don’t use that word anymore. It’s banned from the Haus,” Holster concludes.

“You’re free to use the word ‘Wheelman’ though,” says Ransom.

“O…kay….” Dex says.

“Yeah, chill bros,” Nursey says. “I’m just trying to get Dex laid.”

Holster gives Nursey a high-five. “Nice, bro. The kid needs it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dex asks, but he’s ignored.

“Try the volleyball team. The volleyball team is full of babes,” Ransom suggests.

“Volleyball team, got it,” Nursey nods.

“Hello? Does no one care about whether or not I want to be set up in the first place?” Dex asks.

“Nope,” Nursey says, then pulls him out of the kitchen with more dexterity than he should be able to manage after this much alcohol. Dex wonders if he’s really as drunk as he’s been acting all night. “Hey, have you met Dex?” Nursey asks to the first group of girls they see. “He’s quite a catch.”

_/_/_/

The thing is, Dex doesn’t exactly mind being set up. He doesn’t even mind people trying to set him up exclusively with girls, even though he thinks me might actually lean a bit more towards guys. The problem is Nursey. Dex can handle Nursey when they’re arguing or bickering, when they’re too angry to talk to each other, and when they’re on ice together. But he has no idea what to do with Nursey when he’s complementing him. It’s not part of their dynamic. Dex feels completely lost.

“Look at those muscles, damn!” Show them your biceps, Dex. You should see him in a tank top, Jesus Christ!” Nursey says to a pair of freshmen on the women’s swimming team. “You can really tell that all that working out pays off.”

“Have you seen the jawline on this kid?” Nursey asks a group of tennis girls next. “Fucking unbelievable.”

“You know what they say about hockey player ass, right?” Nursey says later to some softball chicks. “Dex is definitely not an exception.” He pats Dex’s ass lightly, and Dex isn’t sure if he wants to kiss him or throttle him.

Maybe, just maybe, Dex could have managed to find a way to handle all of this if Nursey weren’t so fucking tactile when he’s drunk.

He keeps touching Dex’s shoulder, grabbing his arm, setting his hand at the back of his neck, leaning into Dex’s side. Between the touching, the compliments, and the tub juice, Dex isn’t sure how much longer he’ll be able to keep it together. It’s only a matter of time before shit goes down. Because he’s had enough alcohol now to let himself acknowledge that yeah, Nursey was pretty hot, and yeah, he might like this praise and caressing a little too much, and yeah, he might like Nursey, his teammate and fellow D-Man, a lot too much. Which was inconvenient.

He manages to get a short break from the constant physical and emotional onslaught that is Derek fucking Nurse to play beer pong with Lardo. He figures he’s allowed to abandon Nursey patrol for a few minutes, since he’s been on it all night. He deserves a fucking break—labor laws, and all that.

Even with Dex’s subpar aim, he and Lardo still manage to win the game. One of the to girls they’re plaing against is in Dex’s CompSci section. They did a group project together at the beginning of the semester, and he’s pretty sure her name is Laura, but he’s not completely sure. He’s too embarrassed to check. She’s nice.

“Damn, you’re pretty good at beer pong, Will,” she says.

“No, no, it’s all Lardo,” he says. “She’s the queen of beer pong. She beats everyone. She’s beaten two different NHL players.”

“Still!” she insists, “she wouldn’t have been able to win if you were just deadweight. You pulled your own.”

Dex really isn’t sure about that—he’s seen Lardo win games with drunk-Chowder on her team. Still, he lets the topic slide. “Is this your first party here at the hockey house?” he asks. “I don’t remember seeing you at one of these before.”

“No, yeah, this is my first one! You call them kegsters, right?”

“Yeah. Kegsters,” Dex confirms. “We have a lot—”

“Heeey, Dex, who’re you talking to?” Nursey asks, coming up behind him and grabbing him by the shoulders. His mouth is right next to Dex’s ear.

“Oh, uh, Nursey, this is Laura—”

“Lauren, actually,” she says, and Dex feels himself blush ten shades of scarlet.

“Shit, Lauren, sorry,” he corrects himself. “Lauren is in my CompSci section.”

“Oh,” Nursey says. His smile falters momentarily, then comes back in full force, almost glaringly bright. His tone takes on a quality that Dex can’t quite place. “Cool. Nice to meet you, Lauren. Gonna get some more tub juice now.”

Nursey wanders off towards the back of the Haus, and Dex frowns after him. He’d like to think that by now, he knows Nursey pretty well, and that? That was weird. Nursey has been practically attached to Dex all night, and suddenly he takes off two seconds into a conversation. It raises a red flag. This is probably Dex’s cue to go check on him, because he’s technically still on Nursey patrol, and he’s definitely been neglecting those duties for the past fifteen minutes. He kisses his short Nursey-free break goodbye. “I should probably go make sure he’s not overdoing it,” Dex says to Lauren apologetically. “I’m supposed to be watching him tonight.”

“He doesn’t need a babysitter, does he?” Lauren asks, eyebrow raised.

“No, no, it’s just…” Dex pauses. “When you’ve seen him dance on as many tables as I have, you learn to keep an eye on him.”

When Dex catches up to him, Nursey has already helped himself to a refill from the cooler. He’s leaning against the doorway leading to the kitchen.

“Hey,” Dex says. “What’s up?”

Nursey shrugs. “Nothing. ‘Sall chill.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Dex says. “You practically ran off back there. Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” says Nursey. “Great job, by the way. It looks like you don’t even need me to wingman for you. You’re doing all the work yourself.”

The way he says it sounds almost like an accusation—bitter, caustic. It sets Dex on edge.

“What the fuck, Nurse?” he says. “I thought you wanted me to get laid. You’ve been throwing me at people all night.”

“Yeah. But I didn’t think it would actually work—”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Then why the fuck did you say it? What’s your problem?”

Nursey stands a little straighter, matching Dex’s height. “I don’t have a problem. I don’t give a shit if you fuck her or not.”

“You’re being a dick, you know that?” Dex says. “Clearly, for some reason, you do give a shit. Just tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing is—”

“Bullshit!” Dex raises his voice. “I think I know you well enough by now to tell when you’re fucking lying to me!”

“You know me, huh?” Nursey says dangerously, taking a step forward into Dex’s space. “I bet you just have it all figured out, don’t you?”

“You think you’re so fucking smart—”

“Okay, kids, break it up,” Holster says, wading over from somewhere in the middle of the throng to shove them apart bodily. “This is a party. People are here to have fun, alright? If you can’t figure this out, take it outside. Or upstairs.”

Dex looks around, finally noticing the small crowd that has stopped talking to watch them. Damn it. Lauren is staring at him from across the room, her expression slightly shell shocked, and shame dims his frustration a little.

“Sorry, Holster,” Nursey says. “I think I’m just going to head back to my dorm. I’m not feeling too well.”

“Okay, well, walk home safe,” Holster says, clapping Nursey on the shoulder. “Dex, you good?”

“…Yeah,” Dex says. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Awesome,” Holster says. He disappears back into the party.

“See you later, Dex,” Nursey says. He won’t meet Dex’s eyes. “I hope it’s not raining outside. I didn’t bring a jacket….”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk?” Dex asks, and he knows he shouldn’t ask, knows that he should probably let this one go, but he has to know. He has to fix this. He cares too much. “We have a game in a couple days, and we’re going to fuck it up if we don’t figure this out—and don’t pretend this isn’t about the two of us, because I know it is.”

Nursey looks… vulnerable. Caged, almost, like he’s trying to look for a way out. Dex really doesn’t want to give him one. Maybe that makes him a dick, too.

Finally, Nursey nods. “Okay,” he says. “Yeah, let’s… let’s talk.”

They go to Chowder’s room, a silent agreement that they don’t need to vocalize. Chowder already left an hour ago to spend the evening with Farmer, so they know he won’t be home for the rest of the night. Nursey closes the door behind them and they sit side by side on Chowder’s bed.

The silence lasts for a while.

“What was that about?” Dex asks finally. “One minute you’re trying to set me up, and the next…. If you’re pissed off at me you can at least tell me why.”

“I’m not pissed off at you, I just—” Nursey says, then stops. He runs a hand through his hair, looking anxious. Dex is used to seeing Nursey angry, upset, happy, and drunk, but anxiousness isn’t something Nursey let’s slip through very often. It makes Dex’s heart clench in his chest. “I didn’t like it,” Nursey confesses. “You talking to her, I mean. Which is really shitty and stupid of me, I know. I’m sorry I’m like this. But I… I didn’t like it.”

And there’s that tone again, the one Dex couldn’t place before. Only now he’s pretty sure it’s jealousy, which—

Shit. Dex is going to need a minute.

“I thought you were trying to get me to hook up with someone,” Dex says quietly.

“I was, I was, I just….” Nurse covers his face with his hands. “I don’t know.”

Dex can hear the lie in his voice, can recognize the out Nursey is giving him. Dex can just pretend that this was a fluke, if he wants. He can pretend it didn’t mean anything and move on.

Nursey’s still holding his face in his hands, his long fingers brushing the roots of his hair. It’s messy from a night of drinking. It looks almost like it does after a game.

Dex doesn’t want to pretend.

“Hey, Derek?” Dex says.

“Yeah?” Nursey lifts his head from his hands, resting his palms on Chowder’s shark-themed bedspread.

“You were killing me earlier, you know,” he says. He reaches his hand out, setting it carefully on the bed a few inches away from Nursey’s. “You kept saying things about my ass or whatever, with your arms all over me. Do you know how many times you whispered in my ear tonight? They should make me a damn saint for not saying ‘fuck it’ and kissing you.”

For a second, Dex thinks that he’s read this all wrong, that he’s made a huge mistake, because Nursey is silent and he isn’t moving. Then he shifts his hand slightly on the bed, putting it right over Dex’s wrist.

Dex isn’t sure who moves first, after that, but it’s probably both of them. Suddenly Nursey’s face is closer, his jaw sharp and those dark eyes looking more green than gray. Then Nursey’s lips are on his and they’re kissing, softer and sweeter than they have any right to. Dex’s other hand, the hand that’s not being gripped by Nursey’s, comes up to tangle itself in the hair at the back of Nursey’s head, pulling him closer, anchoring him. All he can hear are the muffled sounds of the party down below, the wet sounds of lips, and the breathy noises Nursey’s making against his mouth—or maybe Dex is making those noises? He’s honestly not sure.

They pull apart for a moment, then immediately find each other again. Nursey takes Dex’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugs at it and fuck, that noise was definitely Dex. Nursey’s tongue licks into Dex’s mouth, slick and wet, his hand sliding up under Dex’s shirt. Dex feels like he could drown in this, in Nursey. Everything is too much and not enough. It’s always been like this with them, from day one.

Nursey slides his mouth to the side, trailing his lips down Dex’s jaw, down the crook of his neck. He sucks the skin there, then bites.

“Fuck, Nursey,” Dex groans. Nursey pulls his mouth away and looks up.

“Sorry. I didn’t—”

“No, shit, no, do that again. Please,” Dex gets out. He winds his fingers tighter into Nursey’s hair and tugs. Nursey makes a low noise deep in his throat that goes straight to Dex’s groin and then returns his lips to Dex’s neck.

“I fucking love how pale your skin is here,” Nursey murmurs, his breath ghosting the underside of Dex’s jaw. He shivers as Nursey sucks another mark into his skin. “I love how red you get when you blush. I love how dark I can make your skin get when I do this—”

He bites again, and Dex tries and fails to choke back the needy sound that works its way out of his throat.

“Nursey, Jesus Christ,” Dex pants. “Are we—are we doing this?”

“Doing what?” Nursey hums, his voice rough.

“I don’t know—making out, in Chowder’s room… on Chowder’s bed.”

“Why? You think he’d be mad at us for using his room?”

“No…. I don’t know.”

Nursey shifts away from Dex’s neck to look him in the eye. He grins. “What Chowder doesn’t know won’t kill him.”

Damn. He has a point.

“Not a word of this to Chowder, okay?” Dex says. “And we’re not doing this in his room again.”

“But we are doing this again somewhere else, right?” Nursey grins cheekily. Dex rolls his eyes, but he can’t help the smile inching across his face.

“Yeah. I mean, I hope so. I’d like to.”

“Me too,” Nursey says. “I’d really like that.”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” Dex says, and kisses him.

They’re already in Chowder’s room, after all. The damage is already done. A few more kisses aren’t going to make it worse.

Or at least, that’s what Dex tells himself.