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ohheyitsokay · 4 years ago

Text

nicknames

Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x reader

Wordcount: 2.3k

Warnings: none to my knowledge, just a silly thought I strung out

Summary: the things we call each other are an intimate look into how we regard them

“Why do you call him Mandalorian?” Cara was never subtle with you. You had been friends with her for years, and you should’ve known she would notice something after only a few days of your traveling with the three of them.

Shrugging, you looked at her. “I never told you?” You’d completed a lot of tasks together, as a very well balanced pair. And honestly you’d become close quickly, so it surprised you that she didn’t know you inside and out yet.

“I just feel like nicknames are too affectionate. On my home planet they're…” you searched for the word, not wanting to offend her, “intimate? Soft, maybe?”

Cara's dark eyebrows drew together.

“Mando… it sounds like a word some use for ‘dumpling',” you laughed, and her confusion broke - she grinned at you. “Mandu,” you offered, trying to explain. The words were similar under your tongue, thus the core of your problem.

“I cannot walk around professionally and call a warrior I just met dumpling.” And she nodded, laughing along with you.

It was too ridiculous, too cute, and far too intimate. Even without the double meaning, you didn’t want to be overly familiar with the Mandalorian. After all, you would only be traveling with him a few more days, and you’d hardly talked.

The mission went smoothly, however, and you were surprised to find that they offered for you to continue to team up with them. Another set of skills was welcome, and another pair of eyes on the little child was even more so. Your resolve stuck, though. It just didn’t fit, to call him anything other than the title he had given you. And you liked him a bit too much to open that door for yourself.

Din Djarin knew there was something special about you from the very beginning. He wasn’t sure if he liked it, at first, but certainly he had been very aware.

You were interesting, for someone in his field. Not at all the large, muscular fighter that he was used to seeing. But also not a seedy assassin. He’d learned quickly that your skill set came primarily in observation. You had no need to manhandle or shove your way to your bounty, instead choosing to melt into the background and watch until you’d identified the perfect strategy.

It made the first week of the job so much easier, he was content with the idea that you would travel and work with them. But then:

“How did you even know that corridor was there?” Cara was clearly excited by your field work, too. She was hardly paying attention as she walked through his ship into the cockpit.

Shoulders rising slightly, you followed her. “Micro-glitch in the holo-projection shield. I’m sure the Mandalorian's helmet identified it too.” You looked at him.

You looked right at him.

Effortlessly, your eyes found his through the visor. You were smiling a little bit, unaware of his state of shock.

Din had been wearing this helmet long enough to be used to never truly making eye contact with people. Sometimes a person got it right at random, but he could feel the difference – they couldn’t tell. But here you were, your gaze in his casually, like there wasn’t a solid layer between you.

He shrugged, reminding himself to get it together. As you turned back to Cara, he felt like he could breathe again.

Din had heard stories, children’s tales, of catching your soulmate’s eyes across the cantina - or maybe a palace room?, and being drawn together by fate. They were ridiculous, of course, but the very idea that you could bring up the memory was more than jarring.

Still, surely this was a one time thing, and he could forget about it.

For the first few weeks, it seemed like he was right. You rarely directed your gaze in his direction, anyway, being very professional and what he could only assume was shy.

You were more than happy to help with the child sometimes, and you talked freely to Cara, but in his presence you were polite and quiet. All your tasks were completed with efficiency and you would often complete other’s just because of who you were as a person. Normally, this was ideal for him - useless chatter had never been something he was good at. He was more than occupied making sure something was not breaking or mysteriously floating away, or they weren’t in danger. When you offered him silence, he should have been content to do the same, and watch the stars race by.

But… well, Din wasn’t sure he liked that either. Certainly it was strange to feel seen by you, but it felt worse that he could be making you uncomfortable, particularly as his comrade. And the more and more your eyes met his, the more it became exciting, and if maybe he wanted you to be even more than that.

So how could he get more if you hardly ever talked to him? Din shook himself, feeling silly for having zoned out in these thoughts. After all, he didn’t really talk to you, either.

After two months traveling with this strange little group, you were more than settled.

It took no time at all: you had hung up a spare scrap of fabric and made a little room for yourself, and the team functioned like a well oiled machine.

You got up before anyone else, this particular day, and were happy to enjoy the quiet sounds of the Crest as you checked everything needed for the day.

“Good morning, Mandalorian,” you heard the weight of his footsteps through the quiet halls. You didn’t even need to turn around, focused on correcting the flight pattern of the ship.

He had not questioned the use of the full title, had hardly questioned you at all. Outside missions, you two had only had a couple of actual conversations which seemed at first to be just fine. But there was a small nagging in the corner of your mind. His armor and helmet made reading his behavior hard, but you couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was off between you two. His body language was … almost gentle with you, not the same as he was with the little one, but as if he was afraid you’d startle if he wasn’t.

Unbeknownst to you, he had grown to like the way you said Mandalorian. It rolled off your tongue, as if it really was his name, as if you liked to say it. Din had been increasingly nervous about making you feel uncomfortable, awkward in his efforts to learn about you enough to make you stay. The prospect of sharing pieces of himself with you had become an indulgent fantasy, if only he could figure out how to talk to you.

“Good morning,” you could hear the sleep at the edges of his voice, and the softness you’d learned to recognize.

You hummed for a moment, thinking, before adding, “Good morning too you, too, little one.” You were rewarded with a sleepy little noise, and you smiled as you finished your task before turning towards them both. Thank goodness the child was awake, and you hadn’t caused any problems. His wide eyes were staring at you from above his father's armored forearm, and you smiled. It was these moments you were reminded of mandu – he was being soft.

You looked up to the Mandalorian, half wanting to tell him, but he stiffened: his shoulders rising and back straightening. Biting your lip, you averted your gaze.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” you turned back towards the stars, letting him think in silence for a moment.

“No,” he said, and you both relaxed. Whatever it was between you was gone for now, and you sat together, listening to the child wake up fully and begin to babble. It occurred to you that maybe he relished these moments, the times in which there were no expectations weighing on his shoulders. You wanted to give him more of those, if possible, to thank him for accepting you into his fold. Besides that, you spent much of your work life manipulating people, and you certainly wanted to establish that you weren’t like that here.

“How did you do that?” his voice, clearer now, interrupted your thoughts.

“Do what?” the Mandalorian rarely initiated conversation with you and it caught you off guard.

“How do you know what… is happening? What is going to happen?” he tone was genuinely curious, and you had to think before you responded. Of course, he knew you mostly just took the time to be more observant, instead of throwing yourself in head first. That’s not what he was asking.

“People are the same wherever you go. The more you watch and the closer you listen, the easier they are to predict,” you said, trying to be both brief and candid. “I was almost no one where I come from. One day, I decided instead of hating that, to use it.”

A small, deep, thoughtful hum came from the helmet beside you.

Silence settled over you for awhile before he quietly begin to talk.

Din told you of his people, his creed, and for the very first time you felt as though you were actually getting to know him. It was nice, not being professional.

“Do you ever want to be seen?” the conclusion of his talking was another surprise for you. Of course, this man who had sworn not to have his face shown would wonder at your apparent comfort with it.

The question felt as if it was seeping into your mind as you pondered it. It occured to you that this conversation had made you ache to be seen by him.

“I think everyone wants that, in their own way,” you said, and as you finally turned towards him, he held your gaze and nodded.

For someone so smart, it was infuriating how you seemed to completely miss the way he was around you.

Din Djarin, a warrior, had finally mustered up the courage to ask you to help him with a bandage on his lower back. The gentle touches and soft brush of your skin against his were foreign, but wonderful.

Unfortunately for him, you had noticed his awkwardness and assumed it was your fault. Ever the problem solver, you’d found a piece of mirror and rigged some wire to hold cleaning pads. It effectively made it easy for him to patch himself up on his own – and ruined the chance for him to steal your touch.

His previous fear had been wrong – you were not soulmates across the room, instead comrades sharing the same space. You were not exactly story royalty, but in spite of that, he was still falling hopelessly for you.

The way you talked to people – who weren’t bounties – with care and kindness. How good you were at your job, and how nice you made their shared space. How you laughed and rolled with the punches that came with this lifestyle. Din had never met anyone quite like you, and beyond all reason, he wanted to know everything about you, share all of himself with you. But you were so clever and polite it made him want to bang his head against a wall.

He couldn’t stop trying though, to get closer to you. Previously, you and Cara had left him and the child occasionally for a personal missions, and it left his feeling strange the entire three days. When you came back his heart had felt light and he wanted desperately to hold onto that feeling.

It wasn’t the same, when Cara went out for the afternoon a day or two after the patch up incident. In fact, he quite enjoyed the jolt of excitement that came with a whole few hours of potential.

Din couldn’t finish his tasks fast enough, even putting the child down for an early nap before nervously setting out to find you.

As expected, you were settled in the common area, reading through articles on your upcoming bounty. He sat next to you, willing himself not to betray his heart with his behavior and scare you away.

He said your name, his blood pumping even before you met his eyes.

“Yes, Mandalorian?” he had no idea why he was so nervous. He’d rehearsed this moment in his mind, it had been aching to be brought to life.

“You… you can call me Din… Djarin.”

It was not exactly as planned.

You’re eyes, ever in his, were wide.

“Din Djarin,” you said it reverently, before saying, “I promise I will keep it safe.”

He held back a small groan. There you went again, being so considerate he was afraid you’d never actually use it.

The frustration overwhelmed him, filling him with boldness and he pressed into your space insistently.

“No,” he said, “Well, do, but use it, please. I cannot stand you calling me Mandalorian like nothing has changed since we first met. I trust you, use it.”

You were adorable, the fear of his confession was damped by how intoxicating it was to be close to you. His hands found you, turning your body in your seat so you were facing him, and settling on the tops of your shoulders. He gently tugged you into him, encouraged that you didn’t pull away, but relaxed into his touch.

“I don’t want to slip,” you said, your voice barely audible.

The forehead of his helmet was so close to yours, you could feel your breath bouncing off of the mask.

“Please,” he said, and it smashed through all the walls you had created.

“Din Djarin,” you said again, tasting it on your tongue. You felt metal above your eyebrows and realized your eyes had closed, savoring the intimacy of the moment. You didn’t open them, allowing your heart to beat at lightspeed, and the tingles radiating from his gloved hands flow through you.

He was being soft with you.

“What if we compromised?” you could hear the smile in your own voice, and he gave a rumbling hum. You wondered if he was as absorbed in this moment as you were, unable to think straight.

“Mandu,” you murmured.

He was silent for awhile, the only indication he heard you being his palms, which slid to where your shoulders curved into your neck.

You could almost hear him thinking.

“I don’t understand,” he finally said, nearly inaudible. Your hands had reached out for him, one wrapping around the armor on his forearm, the other in the soft fabric on the side of his neck. He was distracted, bliss clouding his brain.

“Dumpling,” you said, and if it were anyone else, he would have thrown you across the room. “When you are being my strong and capable leader, you will be Mandalorian,” you continued, unaware that your words and actions were making his whole body fill with warmth and pride. “When you are being yourself, at home with us, I will call you Mandu – it sounds enough like Mando that no one will know it’s because you are truly soft.” He found himself smiling, despite his embarrassment. For you, he was soft. “And I will call you Din when it is just us, and I can be with you as you are now.”

There was no question that these moments would come again. He had made you give in to reading him completely, without any personal doubts.

“Okay, cyar’ika.”

Taglist: @fangirl-316 @scribbledghost

#din djarin x reader #din djarin #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #maybe i don't know people #THIS is the one i teased about #its a mess but i like it

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rizumary · 4 years ago

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In the Garden Full of Stars

✦ Summary: In a few months since they had started dating, Iwaizumi had found something as endearing as it was a complete torture for him: his girlfriend was too clueless and innocent for her own good. Of course it wasn’t something that would hinder his affection for her. On the contrary, Iwaizumi sometimes wondered how he could possibly hold himself back if Hana kept looking at him like he was the absolute wonder of this universe. ✦ AO3 ver — nutteu ✦ Word count: 9.7k

In all his life, Hajime had always been a morning person, an early riser. Tooru had been particularly bitchy about this, but he ignored the jab and the whine at his, apparently, “gross habit”. Tooru and his sensitive ass could wake up late right into the doom’s day, for all he cared. These days, though, he found that he was tolerating someone’s habit of waking up late, and even taking the extra miles to encourage the change in habit. Besides, he got to meet his girlfriend’s groggy face early in the morning, and her sleepy smile in the process. It was honestly a win-win situation for everyone involved.

At this point, Hajime was familiar enough with her mother to be able to sit in their living room and waited for her comfortably, instead of awkwardly standing outside of her gate in the morning. The neighbors once or twice peeked from behind their fences and frowned at him. They probably thought he was a weirdo who stalked the daughter of Akeno’s family, or something. Remembering that just made heaved a deep sigh. The things he did for his clumsy girlfriend.

He didn’t mind, though. Not even a bit. Because Hana greeted him in the morning like she was the happiest person on earth, like she just woke up right into her sweetest dream. The light blush on her cheeks, the fresh scent emanating from her, the way she just stared up at him for a moment before smiling brightly again. Like she couldn’t believe he was real, like she couldn’t believe he was there to walk with her to the bus stop, hold her hand throughout the way, sit next to her in the bus, and listen to her chatters in the morning.

To be fair, Hajime couldn’t believe he was willing to do all of those as well. If someone told him a year ago that he was going to be this smitten with a clumsy, honest, heartwarming cotton candy, he’d politely say thank you, and tell them to do a double laps, regardless if they were in the team or not.

Now, though, he thought fondly, watching as Hana took the box of bento from her mom and kissed her cheek—now, there was nothing he could think of but how lucky he was, to find someone who accepted and wanted him as much as this person.

He bowed to the middle-aged lady, and was pulled out of the living room by an excited Hana. It was quite a windy morning, the scent of sweet flowers and fresh air in the early morning wafted to his nose, coupled with faint smell of food from the houses nearby. It felt like something familiar, it felt like a morning he enjoyed the most these days.

“Did you have your breakfast yet, Hajime-san?” the girl asked, peering at him with pale eyes and a small smile.

He smiled back at her and nodded. “Yeah, made some hamburgers this morning. I brought some for you too.”

She squealed, in that tiny squeak that was laced with happiness. It was so characteristically her that Hajime had to laugh for a moment. In mornings like this, Hajime usually made something to share with her at lunch. He didn’t always pick her up, only at times, as their house was essentially in a different area. When he did, he would come to her house by the earliest bus, sometimes his mom would drop him off there if she got some errands to do in the morning as well. They would walk to the bus stop together, hand in hand, and sat next to each other in the bus.

“This is my favorite thing about waking up early, you know?” Hana once said, the curve of her smile reflected from the bus’ window.

“Taking a bus?” he teased, and let out a small laugh when she whipped around and pouted, hitting lightly at his arm.

“No, Hajime-san, spending time with you,” she corrected. “I mean, every moment with you is my favorite. But sitting together with you in the bus is really comfortable you know? We can talk and be close to each other. You make me feel warm and safe, Hajime-san.”

He wasn’t prepared for the way she said those intimate words, so easily, so honest, so earnest. He was reminded of the girl who got embarrassed because she tripped, or said something way too loud. And then he was reminded of how shamelessly, unforgivingly honest and blunt Hana could be. She didn’t look like she realized that the things she said weren’t something people could usually say so easily, either. People had their own different egos, Hajime knew that. Even someone like Hana; but she was different in the sense that she perceived things differently than other people, and it resulted in her tendencies of spewing the most embarrassing, bravest thing someone could say with such a straight face.

He got used to it, later on. But it still made his heart race, nonetheless. Sometimes, he thought about the way Hana looked at him in the morning; like he was a wonder, a dream—and wondered if she saw the same thing reflected in his eyes as well.

In the instances when he didn’t pick her up, she went to school by herself like usual, and Hajime would wait for her at the bus stop near their school. They’d walk to the school together then. In the way, Hana usually chattered about her latest progress in her art, her side projects, her lessons and whined about her homework as well (she was a diligent girl, Hajime noticed. But she needed a lot of push and encouragements), some games she had started to pick up in the arcade (and the ever-strong obsession with the cranes), or showing him some new clothes that had piqued her interest up on her phone. Hajime would nod along the way, but mostly let her talk, listening to her with a small smile present on his lips, and watching out just in case she tripped or slipped because she didn’t pay attention to the sidewalk.

At times, Hana was worried that she might be bothering him with all her chatters and rants. But in all honesty, Hajime liked listening to her. He wasn’t exactly the most talkative person out there, unlike Tooru. And Hana always had the most interesting thing to talk about, anyways. It was just the way she talked, the cadence she used, the expression, the gesticulation of her hand as she told her stories. He enjoyed those, instead of getting irritated. Maybe he was biased, but Hajime was pretty sure he could just lay there and listen to her talk for hours on end.

He would drop her off at the front of her class, before going to his; waving at her and trying to ignore the curious stare from the kouhais. At times Tooru would pop his head out of the window of his class and grinned at Hajime, teasing him with, “Did you finish your job as the bodyguard?” or “Just came back from dropping the princess off, Iwa-chan?” and he either ignored it, or flicked his forehead hard enough for it to be red throughout the day.

It was a new set of habit, a new set of morning, but Hajime wasn’t complaining. It wasn’t bad at all, starting his day with Hana’s chatters and the excited smile on her lips; the small hand wrapped around his, the soft words of ‘Good morning, Hajime-san’ that felt like a douse of cotton candy in the misty morning. He liked it.

He liked it a lot.

Hana more often than not came to the gym now, every single day Hajime had practice. It came to the point of her being an unofficial manager, helping the other players with their bottles of water, chatting with them to ease them up from the tension of practices and tournament preparations, giving them their towels, helped with the presentation of tactics and formations, and overall just cheered them up from the sidelines. It was new, for Hajime. To have someone this enthusiastic with what he did, who even came and helped around, and he liked it so far.

Of course, there were nasty things going around as well. He knew Hana heard of those, knew that most of the regulars also knew.

“Did you know?” he one day asked, because there was a careless motherfucker who accidentally said disgusting things about Hana, right in the hearing range of the both of them. Hana acted like she didn’t hear it, however.

But all Hana gave to him was a reassuring smile, and a gentle caress to the side of his face. “I always did. But I never have to worry about those, Hajime-san. Because I know that you’ll protect me, that’s why I let them be, and hold on. I can show them, and show you, that I’m stronger than anything they can say about me.”

Hajime took that in, and smiled softly at the answer.

“Hana?” he called, motioning with his hand for her to come closer. They were the last ones in the gym, Tooru left earlier because he had to pick someone up. Hajime vaguely remembered the familiar voice on the other line when Tooru answered a call. A certain kouhai in his middle school—which wasn’t his business at all.

She scooted closer, eyes wide and wondering. “Yeah?”

He gently pushed away the strands of her newly cut bang, and kissed her forehead; soft, trying to convey feelings he was too dumb to explain into words.

But the way Hana stuttered and squeaked and blushed scarlet was enough to tell him that his feelings did come across. He was glad, he thought, smiling at his girlfriend, who tried futilely to hide a smile behind the curtain of her hair. He was glad that she chose him, and he chose to push through and be brave as well—to come out of his shell, and pursue her the way she had tirelessly did the same.

He was glad that life was kind enough to let her stay by his side. And he didn’t plan on letting go; not now, and not for a long time.

In retrospect, it shouldn’t have surprised him as much, but it did anyway—in a way that made his heart beat faster, and the warmth seeped into his skin like a blanket. In a way that reminded him of Tooru’s laughter and the knowing glint in his eyes, as he said, “simp.” Yeah, Hajime wouldn’t even deny it anymore. It really was hard not to be captivated by this kind of innocence, though.

Hana was… not so much innocent as she was just clueless. She was oblivious to the dirty innuendos and the nudges to divulge her love life. Being his girlfriend, it was pretty normal for her to know his friends as well, not to mention that they knew her personally from all those time she spent in the gym. They all talked and joked with each other, trying to include her as much as possible so she wouldn’t feel left out. But there were certain topics that boys caught on faster than anything else, hormone riddled brain recognizing the dirty topics faster than they could catch a serve.

“Ah, but Valentine really is the best time of the year, isn’t it?” Tooru started, looking up dreamily at the bleak ceiling. Hajime didn’t know where he got all those dramatics energy reservation inside of him. He wouldn’t want to know, either. “Chocolates, ladies shyly confessing to you, the little flutters of their laughter as they gather around and talk about the boys they’ll give the chocolate to. Ah! Youth!”

Youth my ass, Hajime wanted to say, as the laughter erupted around them. Tooru was a good captain, and a ridiculously amazing player, but he was a certified clown as well. He didn’t understand how the topic of exams, and the upcoming break for this term, just suddenly evolved into upcoming holidays, and then the argument of which holiday in a year was the best out of everything. Stupidly enough, the other just went along with Tooru’s bait and it got into a full-blown session of mooning over Valentine’s Day.

“You think so too, right, Hana-chan? I mean, you confessed on Valentine’s Day. I fully expect Iwa-chan to at least give you some good ‘ol smooches to show al the love he got in that cold, shriveled heart of his.” Tooru turned to Hana all of the sudden then—who let out a small, surprised squeak. “Hana-chan, don’t just make moony moony eyes at Iwa-chan! Come talk to us too, we’re lonely,” he complained, then fake-wailed so disgustingly that Hajime’s eyebrows just automatically went up two notches higher.

“I’m sorry, Oikawa-san!” she said, panicking and trying to soothe the big baby by patting his arm. “Um, Valentine was memorable for me, because of Hajime-san. But my favorite holiday is Christmas, actually,” she looked so earnestly apologetic that even Tooru forgot to continue his fake-crying for a moment. “We get to see and spend the day with our family, or just have it with our friends, or have the day off for ourselves. Of course, it’s so sad to think that there are people who still have to work on Christmas, but they’ll come home eventually and will have the time to rest as well—and earned extra money! It’s just a warm holiday for me, even if it’s in December, you know? Doesn’t it make you happy that you can forget about your burden and responsibilities for a moment, and just sit and enjoy some hot chocolates under the Christmas tree?”

For a moment, the whole circle was stunned into silence with her lengthy answer. Hajime stared, too; unabashed, devoted. He almost laughed with how the situation had turned. This—this girl just changed a teasing mood into an unexpectedly wholesome discussion, and powered through the jokes and nudges from Tooru beforehand. Maybe not powering through as much as dismissing it altogether, since those jokes probably went over her head anyway.

When the other boys were still recovering from the abrupt shift of mood, and Tooru was hiding his chuckles on his sleeve, Hajime caressed the top of Hana’s head and smiled down at her when she looked up with confusion and worry in her eyes. “Yeah, Christmas is pretty great. Maybe we can go out on Christmas Eve? We can see the Winter Illumination light in Johzenji.”

The pale eyes lighted up immediately, before crinkling into crescent moons as she smiled so hard it made her glow. Hajime couldn’t compete with this girl. She was too much, too lovely, too bad for his poor, cold, shriveled heart.

“Really? We can go there, Hajime-san?” she was all up on his space, and Hajime’s breath got stuck in the vicinity of his throat and lungs. It was hard to breathe properly with how close they were; close enough he could see her long lashes. “Is it really okay? I mean—I would love to go there and spend the Christmas with you, but… won’t you have any other plan for Christmas?”

He shrugged, smiling a little at her. “That is my plan, though?”

She gave him a bright grin that shot straight through his heart, and started chattering about how pretty the light shows would be, how much she was looking forward to this. As they all got excited for a holiday that was still too far away, Hajime gave small, continuous pats to her shoulders. A gesture he had found to be soothing and grounding. It became a habit, somehow, but she didn’t mind and he liked doing it as well. It worked out for the both of them. He did realize when he felt like someone was watching him, though.

When he looked from watching Hana and her excited chatter, he found that Tooru was smiling at the both of them. He didn’t look teasing, didn’t look mischievous; just a plain, sincere smile that reminded Hajime why he still stayed as his best friend for as long as he did. And then, of course, he had to ruin it by scooting closer, and whispered, “You’re so whipped, Iwa-chan.”

“Shut the fuck up you ugly, unused tinsel.”

“Waaah, Hana-chan! Iwa-chan is so mean to me!”

As Hana played along with Tooru’s stupid antics, and the conversation flowed freely around them, Hajime felt an inexplicable confusion and surprising feeling of comfort and endearment towards this discovery. How could a person, who wasn’t that much sheltered by her family; who understood the bad and the good, as clear as the sun and the moon; who had experienced bad things; who was friend with all type of people; who was present for multiple conversations regarding intimate topics—be this clueless and innocent about it? It was a big mystery to Hajime. Either Hana really was that clueless, or she just didn’t care much about this.

Or maybe, she did know, but didn’t understand the extent of it. This was also a possibility. But the fact remained that she was gullible about this sort of topic, and it gave a sense of comfort to Hajime. That Hana would always be the Hana he knew. That this kind of behavior was so her to the point that Hajime wasn’t even surprised, just a little bit confused. It was… endearing as well, to see her so oblivious and earnest in her replies about it, too. He also discovered that he was progressively getting more and more endeared by literally everything she did.

Smiling, crying, whining, chattering, sitting in silence, angry at the crane games, eating, hopping around, helping people, drawing, talking to Hajime like it was her most favorite thing to do in the world. Nearly everything, really.

“Hajime-san?” Hana inquired, peering close to his face and made Hajime’s heart suddenly climb to his throat. “What are you smiling about?”

He shook his head, opting to hold her hand tighter instead. Smiling when, instead of pushing him for answers, she just smiled and squeezed his hand back before diverting her attention to the circle of conversation at hand.

There were times like this, when Hana’s obliviousness came in spades even with all the teasings and multiple innuendos. There were also times when people tried to get her to spill about her love affair, hoping for dirty details and possibly things to embarrass Hajime about. But she just answered with a cheery smile and ran her mouth about Hajime, about their dates, about how great and caring and understanding he was to her. It was… embarrassing. But, just like this time, Hajime felt his heart fluttered like a mad dog in its cage, the enveloping warmth that felt like it was a sunny day for eternity. Like it was a nice day in a spring time; peaceful, content. Happy.

One of the things Hana was most excited about being a senpai, was meeting Kindaichi and Kunimi. She had heard a lot about them (as well as a certain Kageyama Tobio, a name that Hajime never uttered in front of her beforehand, for good reasons). Understandably, she was excited because these were Hajime’s underclassmen since he was in middle school. But to watch the determination in her eyes, how she vowed to be the bestest senpai to ever grace the earth for them, doting on them, and become a cool, reliable senpai all around—it was both funny and warming, all at once.

Of course, to no one’s surprise, she had failed at that spectacularly, and—though eventually become one of Kunimi’s and Kindaichi’s closest senpai—had instead come to rely on them whenever she tripped or slipped or forgot something (or when she got lost in tournaments, when there were too many people around and she got separated from the team). It was, again, most endearing to see her whined and cried about it, how she had failed to be the bestest senpai to ever grace the earth.

“You’re still the bestest kouhai I had ever wanted in this earth, though,” he said, nuzzling close and kissing the top of her head. “You can be assured of that.”

In an instant, she beamed at him; ultra-shiny today with her newly bought sunflower dress. “Really, Hajime-san? You really mean that?”

“Uhuh,” he nodded, smiling all the while. He found it gradually hard to not smile in the presence of this ball of sunshine and determination, as the time went by.

And then, almost like she had wanted to torture Hajime intentionally, she stepped closer into his space, and laid her head on the crook of his neck, whispering, “You’re the bestest boyfriend I had ever wanted in my life, too, Hajime-san.”

It was the moment that mark the process of Hajime’s ticking time bomb of his self-control.

Sometimes, there were happy days.

Life with Hana in it was starkly different. Hana brought something to Hajime’s life that he knew was missing before. The constant presence of someone that he knew he could anchor himself on; someone he could trust with his heart the way he had never tried before; someone that made the sky seemed a little bluer, the stars a little brighter, and time seemed to be infinitely faster each time they were together. Hajime had never been a clingy type of person, but with Hana, he found himself wanting to spend time a little longer with her, stay by her for one more minute, just enough to see her face and felt the bone-deep contentment and peace.

They dated regularly. Once a week, they’d spend their times watching movies, going on the shopping district, going from one café to another, playing on the arcades, walking around the park talking about everything and nothing. There were complicated types of romance, as was seen on mainstream media. But there was also something simpler; something that fell into place softly, unhurriedly. Like what he had with Hana right now.

They went to lunches together, and somehow got into the habit of cooking for one another. Hana’s cooking got better—especially her cakes and confectionaries—and Hajime got teased mercilessly by his mom, even with her knowing smile in place. They told each other about their day, about things they were interested about, about things that worried them. Hajime wasn’t exactly embarrassed about opening up and talking about his feelings, but people had their own burdens, and he wouldn’t want to impose even further. But Hana… she gave back as much as she gave, refusing to settle for less—both in efforts and her complete trust that Hajime would also did as she had done. And Hajime learned to trust that, to trust her, to open up and not feeling like he was less for admitting that he could be fragile, too.

Ironically enough, it started with the match between Aoba Johsai and Shiratorizawa. The match that left Hajime so raw, blistered, lost.

Hajime had had his heart broken multiple times in his life. But this time—he couldn’t even breathe from the pain of it. How could he? When everything he could have ever dreamt of, just on the tip of his fingers, were crushed beyond recognition in just a matter of a few minutes? Was the wall that high? Was Shiratorizawa that strong, or was it just Hajime? Who was too slow, too weak—a failure.

His body still trembled from the adrenaline, the shock hadn’t quite registering yet throughout every limbs. He found it hard to even bow to the other team, knew that everyone on his team felt the exact same thing. But for him, for Tooru, this might be their last chance to meet Shiratorizawa in this stage, in this very court. He choked back a sob from the back of his throat, and went to the locker room with numb legs.

There weren’t much the coach could say, and no one stayed around long enough to say anything more, either. Usually, he would stay behind and watch the rest of the match and scout other teams’ tactics. But he couldn’t even think straight right now, beyond the failure, failure, failure that kept spinning around in his head. He was too sensitive, hurt too much in too many places. Hajime had had his heart broken multiple times in his life, but this time—he felt the pain so acutely that he almost keeled over from it.

Hana was waiting for him outside of the locker room, looking worried sick and sad, so sad. Hajime could imagine the same look on his face, with a lot more desperation and numbness. Her eyes were red around the rim; she had been crying. Gods—Hajime wanted to cry too right now, more than anything. He had always expected the possibility of them losing, how painful it would be for him, for the team. But he didn’t know that it would be this crushing.

She held his hand without words as they walked back to the train station. He didn’t say anything, either. Too tired, too sad. He didn’t even know how he was still standing, walking in steady pace with Hana next to him. She was gripping his hand tight; tight enough to be painful, but Hajime was too far gone to even register another source of pain. The streets were bustling about with people, but it was almost empty nearing the station. The bright neon lights on his left and right, the bright atelier of every shop, the loud city—everything seemed muted in Hajime’s head. Oh—oh, Gods—oh Gods the tears—

“But the funniest thing is,” he suddenly said, with voice so unsteady from unshed tears. “The funniest thing is—that I failed them. I failed as their ace, you know? We were so close, so close. And we—we—“

He didn’t know when the tears started, didn’t know how and when they arrived at the station. He just followed Hana’s gentle hand, as she led him to sit on one of the benches. As she held him tight, enveloping him with warmth, holding his broken pieces with soft whispers and caresses. Hajime didn’t even care that he was crying in a public place, didn’t care that they might just miss their train. Hana was crying with him, whispering, “It’s okay, Hajime-san. Please, please, it’s going to be okay—“ over and over again as Hajime’s body was wracked with shuddering sobs.

At that moment, all Hajime felt was the overwhelming sadness. Hana was the only thing he clung onto, gripping tight and hugging her close to him as he cried on her shoulder. All this time, he tried to be a strong, immovable person in front of Hana because he knew that she expected that from him. She felt safe and protected under that assumption, and though it was part of Hajime, too, but this part was also real. The part where he could break and shatter into pieces; hurt and overwhelmed, failed and cried.

“It’s okay, Hajime-san,” she whispered, voice trembling and thick with tears. “Just let it all out, don’t ever hold back your feelings when you’re with me, okay? Even if Hajime-san is such a strong, gentle person, but Hajime-san… I—I want to protect you too. I want you to lean on me too, I want to help you when you’re sad like this, so please—“ the sob wracked her tiny body, and at this point, they were both crying so hard that it was difficult to breathe. “Please, trust me. I’m here; I’ll always be here for you.”

It was a turning point for the both of them. The moment that made Hana understood that Hajime could break and cry; the moment that made Hajime knew that he could trust Hana with his weaknesses and private moments. Like bracing himself for the journey ahead in her galaxy, knowing that no matter how far he went, he would never be lost. Safe and sound in her embrace and warmth.

The force that drove Hajime into spiraling downwards in his lapse of control wasn’t even intimate moments or physical provocations. None of those happened too often in their relationship. Sure, their intimacy were probably off the chart, with how much they made “moony moony” eyes at each other, as Tooru had dubbed. But not in the physical sense of it. Contrary to it, what actually pulled him deeper into the frustration and triggered his ticking time bomb was the mundane, simple thing that Hana did in daily life.

She didn’t even intend to push Hajime’s buttons, she was just doing things as she normally did. In her own ways, which were dangerous enough on its own for Hajime’s heart. She was just—she just—Gods, it was almost like she was intentionally being oblivious and unseeing to the way she slowly, consistently destroying Hajime’s iron strength resolve. He couldn’t even complain about it to her. What was he going to say anyway? Stop being so adorable? Or, don’t do things so endearingly? Or would it be better to just cut to the chase and hit her with stop making me fall even deeper with you? He could already imagine how both of them would just stand there and boiled themselves to death with how much they’d blush. If Tooru ever got a whiff of these thoughts, he wouldn’t live it down to the end of this universe.

There was one time she called him over as they were tidying up the gym after practice. He was putting the volleyballs into the basket, when she suddenly said, “Hajime-san, look!”

When he turned around, he nearly got a cardiac arrest. On Hana’s lips were to potato chips, positioned backwards so they’d form a duck-mouth. She looked so proud of it that Hajime wanted to hit her stupid duck-mouth. Gently. With his own mouth. Did she not understand how dangerous these kind of things were for his heart?

Apparently not, because she looked confused when he hugged her tight, rubbing the top of her head in his frustration. He faintly heard the juniors awkwardly asking Tooru, “Uh… is this normal?” and Tooru answering, “Just let them be. They’ll die if they missed even one second making us single person jealous.”

Or the other time when they went to the arcade, and Hajime won her another plushy. She hugged him tight, unabashed and so dearly happy that she looked even prettier than usual that day. And then, she pulled back, hugged the plushy next to her face, and asked to be photographed just like that. With her cute dress, and the soft plushy resting on her cheeks, and a wide smile on her blushing face. Hajime made it as his wallpaper for two weeks straight.

It wasn’t just those instances. The attentiveness, the exchanged bentos, the shy kisses on the cheeks after their dates. Then Hajime’s birthday came around, and Hana put an arrow right to his heart as they shared their first, proper kiss.

The soft, short peck than felt like an explosion of numerous fireworks behind his eyelids. The scent of her, the softness of her palms as she hold onto his arms, the way she fluttered her eyes close as they kissed. It was all so soft, so warm, so precious that Hajime felt like nothing could ever felt this whole, this complete in his life.

All of those contributed to his lapse of control. Each time, the urge to hold Hana started getting stronger. He just kept noticing how lovely she looked when she smiled, how delicately shaped her fingers were, how soft her lips were when they kissed his cheeks, how small she seemed to be in his arms. Each moment felt like another new nail on his coffin. It almost drove him mad with want; the closeness, the feel of holding Hana so intimately in his arms, the fragile expression she put on. Hajime was still a man with a lot of desires. And day by day, the desire to be closer, closer, closer to her was getting to be overwhelmingly vivid. He just didn’t know when he was going to lose it from all the love he had inside him for this oblivious, precious girl.

Months of their progressing relationship, and Hajime’s progressively diminishing self-control, came to a head on a lunch on a cloudy Tuesday afternoon.

They were having lunch with Kindaichi, Kunimi, and Tooru. All three of them quickly forgotten by Hana as she started conversing with Hajime. At this point, all of them were used to it, and only laughed unflappably as she jolted and squeaked when she realized that they were there as well.

“Don’t mind us Hana-chan, we’re just props on this telenovela,” Tooru said, waving his hand away when she repeatedly apologized. “Go on, go on. We sure love watching you two exchanging moony moony eyes.”

Hajime slapped him on the back of the head, and gave him a piece of his chicken. Their conversation went as usual; clearly, Tooru’s suffering was detrimental to an enjoyable afternoon with friends.

Hana whined that she was falling behind the lesson, and it was only a few weeks away from their exams. Hajime offered to study at his place unthinkingly. Kindaichi choked on his rice, Kunimi absentmindedly slapped him on the back. Hajime was hit with a sense of déjà vu because it looked exactly like what Hana and he did a while back. Oikawa was positively glowing—glowing with a leer, more accurately.

Hana, on the other hand, looked so happy it was almost blinding. “You’ll teach me Hajime-san? It won’t be a bother for you?”

Hajime ignored the rest of them and caressed the top of his girlfriend’s head, feeling the soft strand of hair between the tips of his fingers. “Of course it won’t. I’m glad I can help you.”

“Thank you, Hajime-san,” Hana said, soft, unthinkingly so transparent of her feelings. “And I get to go to your house, too! That will be a first for me, I’m nervous already. What should I bring for your mom?”

Hajime choked on his chicken, and awkwardly told her that not bringing anything was also fine. She insisted to bring her something, however, and finally settled on a basket of oranges. Both his mother and he were fond of those after all. They finished their lunch relatively quick as their class schedules were as tight as ever now that they were nearing exams. As usual, he walked Hana to her class, and waved her away with a smile before going back to his.

As he walked past Tooru’s, however, the trashy asshole pulled Hajime into a dip and dramatically said, “Of course it won’t, Hana-chan. I’m so glad I can help,” he drawled the last bit, putting in as many essence of extravagance as he could possibly have in his body. “My god Iwa-chan, if it wasn’t so cute I’d be grossed out already. Wait—I am grossed out already. Man, Iwa-chan, you’re so far off gone into Hana-chan that you’ll never return to the solar system.”

“Shut the fuck up shittykawa,” he growled out, pushing himself off of the dip and away from Tooru’s cursedly strong arms. “And stop with your weird metaphors, alright? You suck at it. You’re gonna scare Kindaichi and Kunimi away with them.”

“So callous, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa wailed, drawing side glances from the students milling about around them. “How can I recover from this fatal wound?”

He left Tooru and his dramatics, and thought that, maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want to go back to the solar system anyways. Maybe he wanted to keep exploring the bright, unknown territory of Akeno Hana’s galaxy.

It was Sunday when Hana came to his house, and Hajime was slightly panicking because he couldn’t sleep last night from giddiness as the bags under his eyes were visible. His mom laughed at him and swatted him away when he asked for something to cover them up.

“Honey, I think by now we both know that Hana-chan and you were too far gone into each other to mind such inconvenience like eye bags. Just put on something clean and neat, and you’re good to go. When is she going to arrive, anyways? The cookies aren’t finished baking yet.”

He had cleaned his room twice yesterday, put on some air freshener, put away his trinkets and changed his bed sheets as well. He had wanted to pick her up, but Hana said that her mom would drop her off because she also had to go somewhere. So here he was, waiting with anxiety riddling his stomach on his living room.

“Hajime, seriously,” his mom said, sighing and chuckling a little. “Calm down, you look like you’re constipated. Even Hana-chan wouldn’t find that attractive.”

He scowled at her teasings, and continued checking on his phone every five damned minutes. When he heard the rumble of a car outside of his house, he nearly tripped on the sandals to open the front door.

Hana’s pretty, blushing face greeted him when he swung his door open. He paused for a second to take her in, and gulped audibly. Was she always this pretty, or was it just his frustration these last few weeks that was talking? Either way, she looked stunning in her white dress, holding a basket of homemade bread and oranges in one hand. He coughed awkwardly, and smiled at her.

“Hey,” he said, nervous, trying his hardest to be cool as cucumber. By the small laughter that left her lips, he couldn’t imagine that it was working splendidly.

“Hi,” she replied, shy and incredibly adorable that Hajime was overwhelmed with the urge to hug her. It wouldn’t be appropriate, however, as her mother was still waiting in her car.

Hajime stepped around Hana to wave at the older lady, and bowed a little. She waved back and said, “Have fun, Hana-chan! Just call when you want me to pick you up, okay? Say hi to your mom from me, Hajime-kun.”

She drove past the house into the office district nearby, and Hajime let out a relieved sigh. He had met Hana’s mother multiple time in the past, but his nervousness about their study session was making his circuit went all haywire and weird.

“So, uh, we should go inside. Mom made you some cookies,” he said, gesturing the hall, where his mom’s voice could be heard even from the outside.

Apparently, putting his mom and Hana in the same room proved to be his biggest mistake yet in this relationship. His mom glanced at him with a smug face as he curled on the couch, wanting to die from mortification. After the introduction, and his mom fawning over Hana, they traded recipes on the cookies and the homemade bread. She seemed to like Hana, and Hana looked comfortable enough to relax around her gradually as opposed to how stiff and awkward she was at first.

But of course. As soon as the two ladies got past the initial awkwardness with each other, they launched into a familiar pattern of conversation that Hajime wondered whether Hana was the actual child in this household. And then, the baby pictures. Kill him now—just kill him now. He didn’t think he could live with this sort of embarrassment.

(And he said that Tooru was the dramatic one. Maybe Tooru was starting to rub off him, he thought despairingly.)

When his mom finally let them go, with a wink to Hajime’s direction, he breathed out and ushered the small girl upstairs to his room.

“Your mom is really nice, Hajime-san,” she commented as he unlocked his door. Her giggles were loud and clear as she said, “and you looked so cute on your baby pictures!”

He groaned and rubbed his face. “She always does that every single time someone visits our house. I don’t even know why I bother wasting my embarrassment. She’ll show you even more outrageous pictures of my childhood the more you visit.”

Hana nudged him softly on the side, a grin plastered on her lips. They were a little bit shinier today, a little bit redder. She must have been wearing lipstick, and light make-up too, by the look of it. The make-up framed her face naturally, as if it were never there in the first place. She was pretty, and Hajime sighed internally for the hundredth time today. Every single thing Hana did these days just pushed all of his buttons, in the right places, at the wrong time. He wondered how she would react if she knew that Hajime had been battling his desires over her these past few weeks.

“Does that mean I’m invited for future visits?” she asked, innocent enough. But it still made Hajime’s heart raced through his ribs.

“Uh—“ he stumbled, not sure how to answer that. Of course he wanted her here, possibly all the time. But that’d sound creepy. In the end, he just settled with, “Only if you want to.”

She gave him a brighter smile at that answer. “Of course I’d want to, Hajime-san.”

He returned the smile as they settled on the carpeted floor. Regardless of his teenage hormones, it really would be nice to see Hana more often around here. His mom liked her too, so it wouldn’t be a big problem either.

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve learned so far, and which part you’re struggling with.”

Every once in a while, they would take a break, and talked about mundane things. This was nice, he thought to himself. Spending time with Hana was always something he cherished. He really was as whipped as people claimed him to be.

He watched the way she concentrated, and started to lose focus himself. Thinking back about their relationship this far, how much she had become someone who meant a lot to him. The focal point of her charm, and the way Hajime couldn’t escape it. Like an absolute gravity, like a black hole. And he welcomed the warm embrace of her constellation, as he delved deeper into the galaxy that was Akeno Hana. This study session might be his biggest mistake yet. But then again, it could be his salvation, too.

The longer he watched, the more he felt restless. She looked very lovely today in her dress, sitting in his room like it was the most natural thing in the world. She smelled fresh, too. He recognized this perfume; she had worn the same on in their previous dates as well. Something fruity, with undertone of flower and musky earth. He found himself scooting closer to where she sat, entranced by her mere presence. She didn’t seem to notice, or if she did, she didn’t seem to mind. Hajime took this as a clue to get even closer, settling behind her in the end.

Hana did look up this time, but it was only to smile at him and nuzzle a bit to his shoulder before continuing her work. Oh Gods, when would this girl stop driving him crazy? He heaved a deep sigh to alleviate the tension he was feeling. It was harder than he thought. Especially with Hana humming softly to herself, and every once in a while would lean back on him. It was okay, he could endure this as well. He had endured those weeks in the face of Hana’s charm, after all. Today was no different.

But of course it was different. They were in a more intimate situation and location. But to add salt to the wound, Hana looked up, face mere inches from Hajime’s and whispered, “You’re so warm, Hajime-san. It’s really nice, like this.” She drove her point by pushing further into Hajime, and he felt like the breath had been knocked out of his lungs. It really was small wonder that his resolve finally broke after so long.

It started out innocent enough, with soft caresses on her head, feeling the soft strands, combing through them with his big hand; grazing the shell of her ears, making her shudder and let out small laughs. Going back up to massage her scalp lightly, and enjoying the way she relaxed and pushed back into his hand. Her head was tiny in his grip, or maybe his hand was just that big. Hajime honestly couldn’t spare a moment to think about the precision of the statement. But she was tiny, wasn’t she? Smaller than him in every possible way.

Younger, shorter, more slender; her delicate fingers, her thin neck, her tiny face, her small hips. Hajime wondered if he could envelope her whole if he were to lie down on top of her. Wondered if his hands could meet if he held her hips with both of them. Wondered if he could easily haul her to his lap with how light, how small, how endearingly gorgeous she was.

Unintentionally, he scrapped her scalp a little bit harder than he intended, lost in thought. As he was panicking about his lapse of control however, Hana closed her eyes and leaned back to his hand even more; soft sounds coming out from her throat without her realizing it. It might be the sight, might be the way he had been thinking about it, might be the feelings of her in his arms, might be the warmth of her right next to him—looking like everything he had ever wanted, wrapped in a personality that adored and wanted him back just as much.

Maybe it was her gravitational pull. But maybe it was just Hajime, plunging himself into the uncharted territory, and reveling in the exhilaration and small wonders he found.

Or maybe, it was just Hana. Small, cheerful, clumsy Akeno Hana, with her pale, wide eyes and her soft smiles; her soft, reassuring touches and her antics and weird quirks; her honest feeling and her affection that was so readily given and showered upon Hajime. And he wanted her, all of her, so much that he almost ached with it.

His hand sled down to her cheek, thumb swiping gently over the high of her cheekbones. She fluttered her eyes open and looked at him with a confusion that warred with apparent comfort—and want. And it was the last straw for Hajime.

“Hana,” he whispered, low and soft, like he was afraid that even the walls would listen. “May I kiss you?”

Her eyes were a little bit glazed, and she bit her lips, shy and unsure. But she didn’t reject him; she was confused, he realized. Hana probably didn’t know what to do in this kind of situation, and was unfamiliar with it as well as her romantic endeavor was even less than his. Hajime waited patiently for her, didn’t move until she looked up again and nodded.

He leaned down slowly, giving her enough time to pull away or to say no. Despite everything, he cared for her deeply. He didn’t want to do something that she didn’t want. But Hana didn’t pull away, not even when Hajime was only a breadth away from her lips, when their breaths mingled with each other; not when he finally drew her in, and closed his mouth over hers.

The kiss started gentle, started with just soft slide of lips against lips; something familiar with them, something warm they could anchor themselves on. He gently guided Hana’s movement, tasting the chemical taste of lipstick and something he vaguely recognized as her, faint as it was. One of his arms wrapped around her middle, pressing her closer than ever. The other one was holding her face in place so Hajime could kiss her a little longer, a little deeper.

He bit lightly at the plush bottom lip, and felt an electric current went through his spine at Hana’s sharp intake of breath. He did it again, harder this time, sucking on her lips as well. He deepened the kiss a little, and was rewarded with a surprised gasp that sounded so lovely in his ears. At this point, Hana was already turning around, chest to chest with Hajime.

Through the clothes, he could feel the softness of her breasts, pushing up against his muscled pecs and making him groan from the back of his throat. He tightened his hold, and Hana let out those small noises that drove Hajime crazy. He kissed her harder than before, coaxing her lips to open under the touch of his tongue. When she finally understood what he was trying to do, and shyly parted her lips under his ministrations, he wasted no time in exploring her mouth—thoroughly.

There was a small ‘eep’ from Hana, as Hajime hauled her to his lap properly, all the while kissing her deep and dirty. He licked every corner of her mouth, chasing the taste of her that felt stronger inside than the door of her lips. Hana was clumsy in her movements, when she tried to tangle her own tongue with his. But even that moment of inexperience was endearing, and sent another jolt of electric current to Hajime, spreading to his every limb and making him lightheaded with want.

He pulled off for a second, and was treated with a sight that would probably haunt his dreams for months on end. Hana looked—she looked wrecked, debauched, even from a small make-out session. Her hair was no longer as neat, what with Hajime caressing and pulling at it. Her lips were bitten-red, shiny with saliva. And her face—Gods. Her cheeks were dusted with red, it looked pretty on her pale skin and Hajime wanted to nip on them to see if they would turn even redder.

The look on her face was not something that he could forget so soon. Hana looked dazed; eyes glazed over and blown wide around the ring. Her lips parted a little, and she tried to refocus on him. She still looked confused at what had just happened. But there was something else on the lines of her small face. Despite the confusion, Hana was welcoming his every approach. She looked… she looked like she wanted it, without even realizing that she was broadcasting her desires to him.

Gods—could she be even more adorable?

Hajime’s body felt hot, even with the conditioner on in his room. The heat from his skin, along with how close he was with Hana in this suggestive position made his head spin with desires that he had locked away from her innocence. He kept it tight under a lid all this time, but how could he be expected to hold himself back with such a wonderful girl right here, a warm, delicate weight on his lap?

His hand on her hips slowly moved further down, caressing the swell of her behind. He leaned in once again to capture those luscious lips, and felt a certain satisfaction when Hana enthusiastically welcomed him into her mouth this time around. She seemed more comfortable, no longer as confused with the kiss compared to the first time. This time, though, Hajime’s hands didn’t stay at one place.

He caressed the side of her face, down to her small neck, finding a specific spot under her jugular that made her moaned into his mouth. Another one behind her ear and a louder one when he scratched his nail a little on her collar bones. It felt hotter and hotter in the room.

Hana’s hands found a place on his shoulders and settled there, gripping his shirt tight when he touched a particularly sensitive place. He continued his exploration as he kept kissing her, feeling an unquenchable thirst the more he got a taste of her. She shuddered when he rubbed the side of her ribs, small caress underneath her breast. He could feel the protective padding of her bra against his knuckles, and wondered how soft it would feel if he were to unclasped it right now.

What would she look like underneath the pretty, white dress, he wondered? What would she look like, lying beneath him, on his bed, out of breath and looking thoroughly wrecked?

These thoughts made Hajime pushed forwards, hands gripping Hana’s exposed thighs tightly and reveled in her little gasps between their kisses. She felt so soft, so lovely under his fingers; he couldn’t get enough of her.

“Hajime-san—“ she moaned out, hitches in her breath when Hajime broke the kiss to mouth at her neck. She smelled incredibly good this close. “Ah—Ha—Hajime—“

He liked it, hearing her little pleases and mewls when he touched her on a certain place, pushed and knead on another. It made him bold, brave. How far he could take this, he wondered? How far would she agree to go? How long would he last under the very temptation in front of his eyes?

Hajime didn’t even realize when he started rocking his hips against her, but Hana’s grip was unrelenting on his shoulders, and the way she closed her eyes and pushed back clumsily— he held her tighter, and pushed upwards into the warm curve of her body. It felt so good, to be so close to her. To rock back and forth against her. So good, felt so warm—so—

All of the sudden, time seemed to stop. Hajime let out a shuddering breath. He let go of a piece of skin he had been sucking on, and pulled back to look at Hana’s face. She hadn’t realized what was happening yet, and Hajime reinstated his iron grip on his control when those eyes opened and he saw an obvious want in them. Hana might not understand this kind of thing, but her body certainly recognized it and went with her instincts.

Fuck, he cursed inwardly. She looked so good like that, and Hajime realized with impending horror that he was hard since a while ago. The look on Hana’s face right now wasn’t helping in the slightest. She looked like she enjoyed it, looked confused why they stopped all of the sudden. She looked like she wanted more, and Hajime prayed that he was granted strength against lovely girlfriends that broke his resolve like a butter.

He heaved a deep sigh, trying to calm himself down, and rubbed Hana’s back gently. He willed his hard-on to flag down, and peppered her face with little kisses along the way. No. He wouldn’t let himself lose control once more and did what he promised to himself he’d only do once they graduated from high school. It wouldn’t be fair to impose this kind of thing to Hana without her understanding properly about it first. Hajime liked her, so much to the point of desiring her; but he also prioritized her safety and comfort first and foremost. His desires could be controlled; it could wait just another year.

“Hajime-san?” Hana finally croaked out, looking a little bit lost, and lot more red on the face once she realized that she was essentially sitting on his lap. “Um—I’m—I’m sorry— was it that bad? Was I—“

He chuckled softly, and shook his head. “No,” he said. “You were absolutely amazing, Hana. It’s just. It’s not the time yet. I like you a lot, you know that, right? A lot. And it’s common for boys my age to get a little intense on that feeling. I want you. Want to be with you, and kiss you every morning, and hold you close with me.”

Hana burned bright red at his words, but listened attentively. She understood that he was saying something important for their relationship. She allowed him to soothe her with calming touches and small kisses on the sides of her face. “I like you a lot, too,” she replied.

“Thank you,” he said, smiling. “But you might not be ready for the intensity I’m talking about. Things I wanted to do to you, with you. We’re not ready for that yet, I think. I’ve been holding it in by myself all this time. I think it makes sense that I lost control like this. But I… I wanted to wait. For you. I want you to be familiar with my desires, and understand about it first, before we continue to the next step.”

She nodded at him, and seemed to be a little lost in thought. “Thank you for taking me and my inexperience into consideration. I’m glad, really glad that you care so much about me. That you’re willing to wait. And—even if I’m not very good at those kinds of thing, but I think—I think I understand what you’re trying to say. You’re really kind, Hajime-san.”

He hugged her close to his chest, kissing the top of her head and laughing to himself. “I can’t believe we just made out when we’re supposed to be studying.”

“Hey!” she laughed along with him, hitting him lightly on the side. “You’re the one who started it!”

“I know, I know,” he sighed. “I’m sorry for suddenly springing it up to you like that.”

She nodded, smiling a little. Her lips still looked red, even with her lipsticks swept away in-between their kisses. She still looked absolutely stunning, and Hajime’s heart ached with how much he wanted her. He would wait, no matter how long. If it was for her, he’d wait.

He leaned in to kiss her again, just because he could, and because it made her laugh into the kiss. When he pulled away, he threw her a smirk and reveled in the slight shudder that rocked her body.

“I’m serious, though,” he teased, getting close to her face just to see it reddened in pretty blush. “You better prepare yourself, okay? Because I’m not going to hold back anymore once we both graduated.”

She bit her lips at the promise, and thwacked his forehead in retaliation. “Don’t tease me so much, Hajime-san!” she complained, but she was laughing, and leaned her entire weight into his arms as she peck the place she just hit. “Okay. You better wait for me, then.”

“Always,” he said, promised, and drew her in for one last, soft kiss on her lips.

Her eyes twinkled in happiness as she basked in his affections. They looked like millions of little stars in the constellation of her irises, and he felt like he was home. Right here, in her arms, lost in the wonder of her galaxy.

#Iwaizumi hajime #akeno hana #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x oc #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi fanart #HaHa couple #iwaizumi fanfic #fanfiction

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uh-oh-howd-i-get-here · 4 years ago

Text

After All This Time (Bucky Barnes X Fem!Reader) Part 3

I'm having so much fun writing this! I hope you all are enjoying this too. This chapter ended up so much longer than I thought it would be, but I'm fairly happy with it.

Summary: The real world is a scary place, even more so when you’re alone. You live alone in a apartment filed with the figurative ghosts of your memories. You’ve both changed since you last met your fiancé, but can love mend the gap after all this time.

Pairing: Bucky X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Talk of torture and death. Mentions of triggers. Cursing? Talk of PTSD and violence. If I missed anything please let me know.

Word Count: 3,299

Part 1-Part 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N was feeling very lucky. After some failed attempts at getting a job, she wasn’t sure how she was going to afford living. Everything was worth so much more than when she had last had to go grocery shopping.

She had decided though, that she was going to splurge on some flowers to lighten up the apartment. There was a flower shop near home that had been open when she was young all the way till she left for the war. It had been passed down through the generations and she had even been friends with the owners. A couple older than her with a little girl.

Much to her surprise, the shop was still there with the same name. Sunshine’s Flowers. Named after the original owner Sunshine. She walked inside and up to the counter where she was met with a middle aged woman.

“Hi! How can I help you?” The woman chirped.

“I was just looking for a bouquet of flowers to brighten up my dining room.”

The lady helped Y/N find a bouquet and they walked back to the counter to check out.

“And what’s your name?” The lady, who Y/N had learned was Shea, asked.

“Y/N L/N”

It was then that Shea really looked at Y/N. She stared at her for a second then lit up. “I’ll be right back.”

She walked off behind the door and after a couple minutes, then Shea returned with an older lady who looked to be in her mid 90s.

The old lady also stared at Y/N, then smiled. “I don’t know how you’ve stayed so young, but you’re just as beautiful as when you left Miss Y/N.”

Y/N stood shocked for a second, then it clicked. “Dorothy?”

The little girl had been only 10 when she had left, but time had passed.

“Oh it’s so good to see you,” Y/N turned to look at Shea. “How did you know?”

Shea smiled. “Mom keeps a picture of you two in the office. She always talked about how nice you were to her.”

Y/N smiled.

After talking for about an hour, Y/N left with two bouquets and a new job. Her next stop was the VA.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I almost thought I’d never see you again,” Sam smiled.

Y/N offered a meek smile. “I got some flowers to brighten the place up a bit, if that’s alright.”

“Thank you”

After some mild chatter, Sam asked, “What was life like for you before the war?”

Y/N froze. She hadn’t expected that kind of question. She thought back.

“It almost perfect I suppose. Business was getting back on it’s feet, the depression was over by the time I was in high school. I started dating when I was 18 and by the time I was 20 I was moving into an apartment with my boyfriend. A year after we moved in together, he proposed to me. I didn’t have a job, but I volunteered as a nurse sometimes. I mostly stayed home, we could afford it though. My fiancé worked, but he also came from a well off family,” she trailed off lost in thought.

“So you loved your fiancé?”

Y/N smiled. “I loved more than anything else in the whole world.” Her shoulders dropped. “I’d do anything to have him back.”

Sam nodded and silence filled the room.

“I know someone who would understand what you went through, I could call him down here sometime for you two to talk if you’d like.”

Y/N nodded vaguely. She didn’t know how she felt about that offer.

Sam seemed to understand. “Give it some thought,” he smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She had decided to go back to the VA a week later. She didn’t mind talking to Sam, he seemed to understand in a way that others didn’t. Knew what questions to ask. Of course, that could be because he worked with two people just like her.

Y/N could hear Sam talking to someone in his office as she walked in the front door. She recognized Sam’s voice, but the other was talking so low that she couldn’t really hear it. Sam’s door was partially closed, but not quite shut, which meant she couldn’t just walk up and announce herself. She started debating whether to turn around and come back later or to wait until he was done talking with someone.

Sam had implied that there was someone she should meet, and she was terrified. New people had never really worked out well for her. She shook her head before she could think back, a tactic she had taken up while in public.

Just as she decided to come back later, Sam’s door opened. She turned around thinking it was Sam, instead it was the ghost of her memories. Her heart flew to her throat, then dropped to the floor. She desperately tried to move, to think, to do anything other than stand there and gape at the person in front of her. He seemed to be doing the same thing.

Finally, her words came to her. “James?”

He looked like her James. The same face, although now there were dark circles under his eyes, frown lines where there to used to be smile lines, and a permanent tormented look in his eye that she recognized all to well.

Sam appeared behind James and looked pleased, worried, and unsure about the whole situation. “Uh, Y/N this is Bucky. Bucky this is Y/N, but I think you both have already met.”

So it was true. This was James Barnes. The man who had proposed to her. Bought an apartment with her. Had loved her for god knows how long. Yet after everything that happened, here he was.

It felt like hours had passed before anyone moved, bet then Sam ushered both of them into the room with the beat-up sofas and she curled up into her usual spot.

Sam cleared his throat. “I get the feeling y’all need to talk alone. If either of you need me, please call. We’re the only ones here so.” Sam shrugged then eased himself out of the room leaving Bucky and Y/N together.

Y/N was still in shock. She had no idea what to say or what to do in this situation. A situation she never thought she’d be in.

They sat in an awkward silence until Bucky finally spoke. “How are you alive?”

She stiffened, straight to the point then. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Bucky looked away. “I- I mean, the Winter Soldier killed you.”

She thought back to that day. While she remembered, trigger days were a little fuzzy, like watching satellite tv while it was raining. She took a deep breath before speaking. “How much of that do you remember?”

“I remember being given an order to kill you. I remember choking you. I remember feeling your windpipe collapse, then they announced you dead.” He had said it with such determination. Fact from the fiction of his thoughts.

“Then I’ll start from the beginning and fill in the gaps. We had gone on a couple missions together,” she started tentatively. He nodded in agreement.

She took that as her cue to continue. “We had gotten close. Not necessarily romantic, but we had become a sort of friends. When it was time for me to get transferred to a different facility, I put up a fight. They called me irrational and childish, but because of my outburst, we both had to be erased. By that point though, you were no longer being controlled with your trigger words, they had already started using the brainwashing contraption to wipe your memory. It didn’t work as well though, so there were some things that you would remember. They had noticed a trend in your memory that you remembered kills, and since I had helped with a couple, they needed you to have a “closure”,” she paused trying to gauge his reaction. When he didn’t say anything, she continued.

“They had you “kill” me, without my actual death. I’m not sure where you got the crushed windpipe from, but you never know what they manipulated with. I passed out and when I recovered enough, it was time for my trigger to be placed. I went into cryo and when I woke up from that, I was in Wakanda.”

Bucky let out a sigh but didn’t look any less tense. “So, you lived, and they just played us both.”

“Essentially, yes,” she muttered. It was hard to think about her time with the Winter Soldier. Frustrating now that she had all the puzzle pieces. They had both been so close, but they had never been farther apart.

“And how exactly do you remember so much? I can’t-“ A deep breath. “I barely remember anything.”

It was hard to miss the frustration in his voice, and she understood that. “Because of the technique they used to block my memories, everything was sealed away, not erased. They never actually got rid of my memories, and yours weren’t supposed to either. When they started to fry your brain, that’s where the damage started.”

“If that’s true, then how do you know all this? How do you remember so much? How do you know so much about the Winter Soldier Project anyways?”

She flinched as his voice rose with every question. She knew how incredibly unfair it was that she remembered and he didn’t, but she also knew that if Hydra hadn’t changed hands later in the 20th century, then he would have remembered just as much as she did.

“I know as much as I do because of the Project I was part of. Project Cecilia was a precursor in every way to the Winter Soldier project. Almost everything you went through; I was the reason it worked. And as I said, your memory was never supposed to be wiped.”

Bucky sat back in his seat. He looked angry, frustrated, and betrayed. Through all of this, she felt a sliver of hurt. He didn’t bring up what they were. He didn’t even ask about her well-being. She figured he had changed, but she didn’t know what to expect. She didn’t know this man in front of her, just as much as he didn’t seem to know her. She wanted to reach out, to see if even a sliver of him was still there.

“Jam- Bucky?” He looked up at her with a weary look. “I… I umm…” She stumbled over her words trying to think of what to say. Then continued to blurt out something ridiculous. “Do you want to get something to eat?”

She ducked her head and scolded herself. Of course he didn’t want to get something to eat. He probably didn’t even really want to go anywhere with her. They were… strangers.

His reply startled her. “Sure, but I don’t know any good places to eat here in the city.”

She nodded and blurted out, “We can eat in my apartment.” She was going to need a bigger shovel for this grave she was digging. Did she really just invite him over to her apartment? Their apartment?

“You mean cook something?”

She nodded numbly, mortified beyond belief what she was getting herself into. He could always say no right?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N had hoped that he would say no. He looked uncomfortable when he had agreed, and hadn’t spoken since they had said goodbye to a seemingly shocked Sam.

She wondered if he even remembered life before he was captured. It hadn’t occurred to her then that he had probably suffered some pretty bad brain damage and memory loss. Is that why he didn’t bring up the past?

While she was lost in thought, they had arrived at the place she called home. She snuck a peak at Bucky. He stared up at the building, but didn’t say anything. She couldn’t quite read him either.

They went inside and got into the ancient elevator and it shook on its way up.

She gave a sigh of relief when they got to door 9C. She felt at home when she slid the key in the lock and turned it with a gratifying click. She had almost forgotten that there was a guest behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She opened the door and walked through, holding the door for Bucky. When he got inside, he froze.

Everything was exactly the same as when he had left. A sense of déjà vu passed over him. It felt wrong to be here. Wrong to see everything, but not able to quite place why. Had he lived here? Why did everything look like it came from the 30’s? He was about to ask her when he noticed the far wall. It was bare, which was odd, as he somehow knew that there used to be something there.

Her voice cut through the silence. “You can put your jacket on the tree and sit wherever you want while I make dinner.”

He just nodded and did as she said to with his jacket. Instead of sitting he decided to take a look around the living room. He meandered over to the mantle where there was a pipe. It looked worn and used. Next to the pipe, was a picture frame that had been laid down to hide the picture. He picked it up and looked at it.

A slightly younger looking Y/N and Bucky stood in front of that very mantle smiling together. He had his arm wrapped around her and her arm around him. Then, like someone blowing dust off a old book, memories started to come forward.

Bucky remembered Y/N much more clearly now. Not everything, but more than before. This apartment had been their home for almost three years. Three years of love, happiness, and safety. He now knew how much he had loved the woman in the kitchen.

Y/N L/N, the girl who he wanted to take his last name. The light of his life. He felt stupid for forgetting. He turned to take a look around the room with new eyes. She really hadn’t changed anything at all. His eyes landed on his leather chair. Like he was on autopilot he walked towards it and sat down. The worn leather comfortable in all the right ways. The chair had been used by him for so long that it had molded to his shape.

As much as he wanted to bask in the renewed memories, this place also reminded him of the life that had been robbed from him by Hydra. All the pain and suffering they had caused through him. His mood shifted. Why was he here? To eat dinner with someone he used to know? He knew exactly what she had done. The upbringing they had both had. Politeness, charm, and hospitality, it was how things worked back then. It was her default.

The more he thought about it, the more it unsettled him. Y/N was living in the past. She hadn’t changed anything because once upon a long time ago this had been her safe place.

He wanted to know more, so he stood up and snuck into the hall that led to the bedrooms. He opened the door to the master bedroom. As he expected, nothing had changed.

Except, for something on the dresser. As got closer he saw it was her dog tags and sitting next to them on the chain was the engagement ring he had bought for her. It dawned on him then that what had been missing from the wall, were the pictures of them. There were no visual reminders of their relationship in the apartment. Why? If she was stuck in the past, wouldn’t she bask in the memories of him too? He had to know.

He walked out to the kitchen where Y/N was folding a sauce into some noodles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N jumped as she turned around and Bucky was there.

“Oh! You startled me. Dinner is almost ready if you want to set the table.” She pushed two plates with knives and forks on them across the small kitchen island. Bucky nodded and started to set the table. They both sat down to eat in silence for a couple minutes.

If she closed her eyes and pretended hard enough, she was back in 1940 and the US hadn’t joined the war yet.

She was so lost in her fantasy, she hadn’t heard Bucky clear his throat. A second, louder, noise came and her eyes snapped up to meet his.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

Her heart dropped. “Do you mean in New York?”

His gaze hardened a little. “I mean in this apartment.”

“I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I wasn’t a registered live person when I got back. None of my accounts were open and I had nowhere to go.”

She was bullshitting. She could have gone anywhere in the world, but she chose this place.

Bucky shook his head. “Why are you here still then. Why are you living in a museum? You can’t find comfort here. You wouldn’t be weak enough to actually let yourself believe that nothing can hurt you here. Does this place not kill you?” He was yelling by the end. His hands gripping the sides of the table, his vibranium arm leaving minuscule marks on the old wood.

By the end of his mini rant, Y/N was looking at her hands in her lap, desperately trying to keep the tears from leaving her eyes. She looked like a child being scolded by her mother.

Bucky loosened his grip on the table, his anger leaving him when he saw a crystal tear fall to her lap.

Her shoulders were shaking as she cried. Guilt piled onto his shoulders, and he did the only thing he felt he could.

He ran.

Y/N just sat at the table staring at her plate as the door slammed behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You did what!”

Both Steve and Sam were waiting for Bucky to get home. When he did, they ambushed him on how it went. Sam was excited that Bucky even went out. Steve concerned for them both. Bucky wasn’t the same person, and he suspected that she wasn’t either.

When Bucky told them what happened, Steve all but exploded.

“I yelled at her,” Bucky mumbled.

“And did she yell back at least,” Sam asked seemingly hopeful that she had tried to stand up for herself like he knew she could.

“She cried,” Bucky whispered, just loud enough for them to hear.

Steve turned to look at Bucky, “Jesus Buck. Why?”

“Steve you should see the apartment, it looks exactly the same. She acts like she did back then. She does everything but dress like it. She’s hiding in the past.”

Sam put his hand on Bucky’s arm. “That’s how some people cope with trauma. They live like they’re back in a time where they were happy. With as many triggers as she has, I would almost expect that. We can’t take away someone’s coping mechanism just because we don’t agree with it.”

“You have to go back and apologize Buck,” Steve sighed, and with that, Steve left.

Sam let out a small sigh. “She’s just as lost as you are. She told me about her fiancé before the war. I didn’t know that it was you then, but she loved you with everything in her heart, and from where I was standing during that conversation, she still loves you. You gotta give her a chance.”

“I’m not the same person Sam. She loved the old me, back when I was whole. She doesn’t want this mess now.”

“Do you know that for sure? Did you give her a chance to decide that herself, or did you make up her mind for her.”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky fic #mcu #x reader #x female reader #marvel #marvel imagine #bucky barnes au #reader insert #mcu imagine #marvel universe #the avengers

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blindingdutchy · 4 years ago

Text

lamentation | FOUR

{peter parker x fem!reader AU}

based on All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven

SERIES MASTERLIST

word count: 3,907

warnings: angst, talk of death/tragedy, a little fluff

18+!!! minors stay away

At school the following week you were more than a little embarrassed. Peter Parker had seen you outside of school twice, and both times you'd been a crying, hysterical mess. Granted, you were a hysterical mess all the time anymore, but you usually kept that very well suppressed. Then along came Peter, and suddenly there was another person outside of your family who knew just how messed up you were.

He didn't mention it, which you were thankful for. You could see that he was concerned, though, with the way his eyes seemed to linger on you during every silence. His worry and pity only made you more resentful of the things you had shown him.

You'd shown up to school the morning after he showed up in your room, and you weren't at all surprised to see him lingering by your locker with an antsy jitter as he rocked back and forth on his feet. What had surprised you, though, was the fact that once he saw you were present he simply nodded at you and walked away. Was that his idea of a truce? An understanding?

Whatever it was, you had been thankful for it. The last thing you had wanted that morning was to talk to Peter, knowing he'd certainly want to talk about the events of the night, and you were relieved to get a little break from his constant presence. He still sat by you in classes, but he didn't pester with you his usual chatter, nor did he follow you to your locker even once.

The trend had continued for most of the week, and you had to admit you were starting to feel a little more isolated without his overbearing company. It was strange--you almost, emphasis on almost, missed him. You'd grown used to ignoring his borderline stalker-like tendencies, and now without him around to ignore, you felt lonely. Lonelier than you already had been, anyways.

At home, things were just as cold and distant. Your mother was in a slump again following your outburst at dinner, and you were beating yourself up over it endlessly. She'd been doing good, finally, and you'd just had to have gone and ruined all of her progress.

She'd been holed up in her bedroom ever since that evening. Not even your father was able to get her to let him in, and in turn he was banished to the sofa night after night. As such, you were feeling the ice from your mother and your father alike. You couldn't blame him, really, because the sofa was definitely not the most comfortable for sleeping.

It felt a little like your life was falling apart all over again since your birthday. The childish, bitter part of you wanted to blame Peter, because it would have been so easy to blame the only thing that had changed in your life, but you knew better. It was you. You were the cause for everything that was going wrong, and you didn't know how to stop it.

Why couldn't you just be better? The whole world was moving on, making progress, and yet you were stagnant. You didn't understand why you couldn't let go of all the heavy things holding you down, holding you back, but you just couldn't. Grieving her wasn't getting easier, and you didn't know how to try and make that change.

"Are you alright?"

Startled by the sudden return of Peter's voice, you jumped in your seat and blinked at him in surprise. It had been such a long week of near radio silence from him that you were shocked to be acknowledged by him, despite the fact that you'd been sitting beside him for the entirety of your Speech class. You'd almost started to wonder if maybe he was ignoring you, though you didn't exactly try to talk to him either.

Quietly, you mumbled, "Not really, but that's normal these days."

It was only then that you realized class was over, students packing up and filing out of the classroom eagerly in anticipation of the weekend. You'd been far more spaced out than you had thought--it felt like just moments ago you were sitting down and waiting for class to begin. You awkwardly began to pack up your untouched classwork and Peter did the same, neither of you quite sure what to say to the other.

Ever since she died, you had an uncanny ability to make any and every situation uncomfortable without really trying. It started with your inability to contain your emotions in response to the thousands of condolences you received over those first few days, and then the more you secluded yourself it only got worse. People looked at you strangely and whispered when they thought you couldn't hear them. They thought you were a ticking time bomb, and in a sense they were correct.

Maybe that was the reason you weren't quite as adamant about pushing Peter away as you were others. He didn't look at you that way, nor did he whisper hushed words about you that would surely make your ears burn when you overheard. Both times that he had seen you in a horrible state, he'd only looked at you with concern and worry. Not once had you seen him give you those all too familiar apprehensive stares, and you were grateful for it.

Realizing you were moving at a strangely slow pace, and Peter was anxiously waiting for you to finish, you cleared your throat and muttered, "Do you want to start the project tomorrow? Or tonight, if you're not busy."

"Um," Peter stammered, not bothering to hide his surprise at your offer, "sure. Tonight is fine if--if that's okay with you."

The two of you stared at each other in silence for a moment, neither of you quite comfortable with the sudden change in atmosphere. Zipping your backpack, you stated, "Yeah, great."

"Great!" Peter echoed, and you both turned and hurried away from each other in discomfort.

When you told your father that Peter Parker was coming over that night you weren't entirely sure what to expect. The reaction you received, however was so far off your radar it scared you a little. He'd nearly wept with joy, kissing your cheek and saying he was proud of you for making friends again, to which you retorted Peter wasn't your friend.

He could tell it was a lie, despite the fact that under normal circumstances Peter definitely wouldn't have been considered a friend. For you, now and after everything you'd been through, he was the closest thing you had to a friend, though. So, you resisted the urge to fight your father on the premise and let him run off to boast to your mother about it.

Even if you felt like you weren't making progress, it couldn't hurt to let your parents think that you were. You were trying, anyways, so you didn't feel quite as guilty about letting them read too much into things. You just hoped that they didn't get their hopes up too high, because there was still time for you to mess things up like you always did.

You spent the afternoon cleaning your room and wallowing in your anxiety. The project was something you were dreading starting, mostly because you knew it would bring up all sorts of negative memories and emotions for you, but also because you feared what Peter would think of you. Would he judge you for your opinions? Would he think you were bitter and ridiculous?

For awhile you contemplated all the ways you could try and lie to appease him, thinking of ways to keep your composure well enough to debate on behalf of superheroes. In the end, though, you knew it was impossible. Arguing against the Avengers was going to be hard enough in itself, let alone trying to pretend you were in favor of them. Was it too late to ask for an alternate assignment?

Peter Parker: hey i'm on my way

Peter Parker: if that's okay. if you're busy that's fine too

It was definitely too late to ask for an alternate assignment, and as you typed out your response you decided it was time for you to finally start trying to do better. You'd wished for things to be easier, to be better, for so long, yet you'd never put in any of the work to make it happen. It was time for that to change. You were going to do the project, fight your stance to Peter, and try your best to not ruin his opinion of you completely in the process.

You: yeah that's fine

You: my mom says you can stay for dinner

You: if you want... if not that's cool you probably have other things to do

Okay, you were definitely biting off more than you could chew. Reading over your awkward texts to Peter made you cringe in a bad way, and you felt nauseous with embarrassment. It was so, so unbelievably hard trying to be approachable after you'd spent the past year pushing everyone away. The fear of him rejecting you was sending shockwaves through your entire body, tingling your skin all the way to the tips of your toes.

To your relief, Peter responded to let you know he was okay with staying for dinner, and informed you that he was on his way. You shot off a remark about using the door this time, and then promptly threw your phone away in shame. What if he thought you were being rude instead of joking? Or worse, what if he knew you were joking and thought it was stupid? Socializing was a real drain on your energy.

By the time Peter arrived with a timid knock on your bedroom door, followed by your mother's coo, "Oh, honey, just go on in. She's never doing anything," you had successfully stressed yourself into oblivion. You were so consumed by your thoughts you almost didn't notice her throwing open your door with a beaming grin, but the sound of Peter's uncomfortable laughter snapped you out of your daze.

"Uh, hi." you squeaked, suddenly extremely self conscious of your bedroom. He'd seen it before, obviously, but this time it was actually swathed in lamp light and the evening sun. "You can sit."

Peter stood in silence, studying your room with an indecipherable look on his face for a long moment. "It's nice in here." he finally stated, dropping his backpack and letting that easy grin slip across his lips for the first time in the past week. It was incredibly relieving to see it, and you even found yourself relaxing a little.

He sat on the edge of your bed and both of you turned to your mother curiously as she continued to stand in your doorway with a tearful smile. Jumping in shock, she gasped, "Oh, right, right. I'll just be downstairs if you need anything. It was lovely to meet you, Peter."

With one last lingering gaze, your mother backed out of the room and shut the door. That was how you knew this was a special occasion in her eyes--what sane mother would ever shut her teenage daughter in a bedroom with a teenage boy willingly? It had been a long while since you'd genuinely felt embarrassed, but you couldn't help but to groan and cover your face at the whole situation.

Peter, however, seemed thoroughly amused by everything. "Your mom is a lot like my Aunt May." he mused, twinkling brown eyes trailing over every inch of your room, "Your room is huge. I think I could fit my entire bedroom in here three times and still have extra space."

"I used to share it with my sister."

He paled at your statement and stuttered, "Oh, shit, I'm so--I'm so sorry. I didn't know--"

"Peter, it's fine." you interrupted his frantic apology, and for what felt like the first time ever, you meant it.

It was fine. You didn't feel angry or bitter about the reminder of her disappearance from your life, and it was strange to you. You liked it, though, and it felt nice to talk about her without being bogged down by thousands of horrible thoughts and feelings.

Relaxing only slightly at your reassurance, Peter looked at you wearily as if he expected you to start crying or lash out at him. To his, and your own, surprise you gave a small smile. That still felt wrong; it didn't come very naturally to you anymore, but Peter seemed mesmerized by it none the less.

The sight of your permanent frown disappearing from your face gave him the confidence to move on from the uncomfortable topic, it seemed, because he grinned back and moved to unzip his backpack. "Okay, so, first thing's first--have you read the outline for the project? It's ridiculously broad and I've been struggling to think of any ideas to make our speech unique." he rambled, rifling through the crumpled mess of papers he retrieved from his bag until he finally found what he was looking for.

You slid your smooth, unwrinkled copy across the bed and asked, "Shouldn't we start with which stance we're taking?"

Peter blinked at you, and you tensed in preparation for the argument that was about to ensue. "What do you mean? I thought it was just a given that we were arguing in favor of the Avengers?" he questioned, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion, "I mean, I'm pretty sure everyone is going to."

"I wanted to argue in opposition, actually." you muttered, pursing your lips. "That could be what makes ours stand out, you know?"

His lips opened and closed like a fish for a few moments as he clearly struggled to formulate words, but eventually he sputtered, "Is that the only reason why? I don't know if I can argue against myself, considering I kind of am an Avenger."

You chewed at the inside of your cheek, already wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole. Letting Peter into your space, into your life, was already hard enough--adding conflict into the mix only made your heart rate pick up and your hands start to sweat. "I don't agree with the Avengers, no, but I have reasons. So, maybe you feel weird arguing against yourself, but I feel just as weird arguing in favor of something I don't agree with." you finally explained, and Peter's eyes widened incredulously.

"Why don't you like the Avengers?"

You nearly scoffed at the way he posed the question, as if he were asking you why you weren't a fan of a specific sports team. "I don't agree with them, there's a difference." you stated bluntly.

Peter wiped his palms on his jeans tensely, just as you did the same, and repeated, "Why, though? What's not to agree with? They--they've saved the world over and over again, isn't that impossible to not agree with?"

"At what cost, though?" you retorted, "Have you paid any mind to all the things they've destroyed? How many lives they've ended, or destroyed, in the midst of their heroic deeds?"

He seemed to get riled up by the bitter way you spat out the word heroic and scoffed, "Okay, but that doesn't just happen with the Avengers. The police do all of that and more on a much more frequent basis."

You raised your eyebrows challengingly, though you had to admit it was a fair counter argument. Clicking your tongue, you rebutted, "That's true, but at least sometimes there are consequences for that! With people like the Avengers there are no consequences. There's no justice, no opposition, nothing! They can do whatever they want, whenever they want, no matter who gets hurt in the process."

Peter stood from your bed abruptly, raking a hand through his hair and pacing around your room with red cheeks. You could tell very well that he was trying to control his temper, though he was about as intimidating as a mouse, and you took deep breathes yourself. The last thing you wanted to do was to make him angry with you, but you weren't willing to back down about how you felt.

Inhaling slowly, he turned to you once again and said, "There are consequences. Don't you remember the Sokovia Accords? That whole fiasco was because of people who felt like you do."

The Sokovia Accords were a sham in your eyes. You remembered well when they had come about, and it seemed that they had changed nothing. For awhile most of the Avengers had gone off the grid, choosing to be international fugitives rather than sign, until the world needed them again. When Thanos had tried to wipe out half of all life in the universe they'd all come out of the woodwork again to save the day, and afterward it seemed as if all was forgotten.

There was no punishment for Captain America, Black Widow, none of them. They stopped another world ending event, causing plenty of damage in the process, and in turn were regarded as godly heroes once again. You sometimes wondered if the Accords were even a thing anymore.

"They felt that way for good reason!" you snapped before clearing your throat and trying to calm down again, "The Avengers have caused just as much devastation as they've prevented, maybe even more."

Peter jumped at your loud tone and snapped back, "What would you even know about it? I see it first hand every time, remember, so I know what happens! What do you know?"

"They killed my sister, did you know that?" you shouted, and he froze in place with wide eyes and parted lips, "Yeah, you know what happens, right? Well then you should know that I know damn well the damage the Avengers can do."

He sat back down on your bed wordlessly, watching you hesitantly as you tugged at a loose thread on your blanket anxiously. "I didn't know that, (Y/N)," he sighed, "I'm really sorry."

You didn't say anything for a long while, not trusting your voice to come out steady as you tried to hold back tears and also keep your temper in line. Talking about your sister's death wasn't something you really did, mostly because you knew it would cause you to break down. It hurt too much to think of it, let alone speak the words out loud.

But, as Peter continued to watch you as if expecting you to explode, you tried your best, "It was my fault. If it weren't for me we wouldn't have been at the park, and she--and she wouldn't have had to wait for me."

Peter reached out and gripped your hand firmly in his, causing you to momentarily short circuit in shock. You internally battled the conflicting urges to pull away or cling to him, but eventually you relaxed into the contact. Gently grasping his hand back, you let out a shaky breathe you hadn't realized you'd been holding.

It was grounding having his hand in yours. You didn't feel like you were at risk of drifting away into the void like you usually did; with his hand touching you, it felt as if you had a secure connection to the world again. It was a feeling you never wanted to lose again.

"It wasn't your fault, (Y/N)," he soothed, but you shook your head stubbornly.

Your eyes burned as you continued, "It was! She wanted to go shopping but I begged her to come to the park with me instead. I wanted to take some photos, and she'd argued with me for so long until she finally caved. A little bit after we got there we heard this really loud explosion, and I just--I just froze, and I..."

The words seemed to lodge in your throat, and your voice came out hoarse as you forced them out, "I froze staring up at Iron Man blasting some alien through the air, so stupidly shocked I didn't notice the building collapsing until she pushed me out of the way. I tried to grab her, but it was too late! A bunch of bricks hit her and--"

"Hey, hey, you don't have to tell me." Peter hushed you, gripping your hand tighter and scooting so close to you that his leg was pressed up against yours. Somehow the increased contact and warmth caused you to break, and suddenly you were crying in front of Peter Parker for the third time. You were three for three on crying in his presence, a thought that made you cry harder in embarrassment.

He didn't seem to care at all, though, as he took you by surprise and hugged you. "He just flew right by us. He didn't even stop when I screamed for help." you croaked, clutching Peter's shirt tightly in your fists as he held you, "I hate them. I hate them so much because it should be their fault, but I just keep blaming myself!"

You really hoped your mother wasn't eavesdropping, because she'd surely have wanted to talk to you about everything later. In all the time that had passed since your sister's death, you hadn't once retold the events of that day. You'd never spoken a single word about it, not even to the police who questioned you following the incident.

No matter how hard your parents had urged you to talk about it, or your therapist, you hadn't ever budged. It was your burden to bear, and you had never felt the desire or the strength to impart that load unto anyone else. Peter somehow broke down all of your walls without even trying, though, and it felt like a breathe of fresh air to finally get it all off of your chest.

There was no explanation for why he seemed to get you to do all the things you swore you never would without a word. It made no sense at all, and it scared you a lot, but you liked it. You craved the connection he gave you. Already, after such a short amount of time, you needed it. It would surely have crushed you if he decided not to care.

As your crying slowly subsided, Peter rubbed your back timidly and comforted, "It wasn't your fault, (Y/N), I mean it. It was just a freak thing, and you couldn't have done anything to stop it--sometimes bad things just happen, and they're inevitable."

"But, if I had just--"

He cut you off, "No, no buts. It wasn't your fault and you couldn't have prevented it. Trust me, I know exactly how you feel, okay? It wasn't my fault, and it wasn't your fault either."

You wanted to ask him how he could possibly know what you felt, or what he meant by saying it wasn't his fault, but it wasn't the right time. Pulling away and wiping your eyes, you sniffled, "I really need to stop crying in front of you. You're like an onion, you know? I just can't stop crying when you're around me."

Peter laughed loudly at your weak joke, and you couldn't fight back the quiet giggle the escaped your lips too. You hadn't laughed, genuinely laughed, in so long. "I like your laugh," he breathed, and your stomach erupted in the strangest fluttery sensation, "I like it a lot. You should never stop laughing."

SERIEST TAGLIST {ask to be added}:

@msmimimerton @zendayasfwb @sweet-symphony

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is-it-art-tho · 3 years ago

Text

This is Chapter 9!

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8.

Summary: Dick begins the healing process.

By all accounts, Dick should not have survived.

That was what he gleaned from murmured conversations between nurses and snippets of news coverage. His medical records had filled in some blanks, too.

Concussion, multiple fractures, internal hemorrhaging, lacerations, cardiac arrest.

Cardiac arrest. The words had played on a loop in his head ever since his doctor had first said them, and even now Dick couldn’t quite make any sense of it.

The doctor had smiled at him afterwards, informed him of how lucky he was to be alive. “Usually when someone goes into cardiac arrest in the field, they don’t even make it to the hospital,” she’d said. “Good thing Batman was there, huh?”

“Batman?”

“Mhm. EMTs saw him. He must have been doing CPR before they got there.”

“Hm,” was all Dick had offered in response, but internally he had clung to those minor details like a drowning man grasping at driftwood.

The majority of that night was lost to him. Listening to the news helped somewhat, but reporters only knew so much. And none of the others – Barbara, Tim, any of them – had been very forthcoming, either.

Dick hadn’t pressed, though. The haunted look in their eyes whenever they came to visit him in the hospital had been enough for him to decide never to bring that night up again. He already hated that he might have inadvertently become added fodder for future nightmares; no need to throw gas on the fire.

He could live with not-knowing what had happened if it meant keeping them from reliving it.

“Richard?”

The young voice dragged Dick’s gaze away from the curtains he’d been staring at to the doorway. He’d been back at the manor for nearly two days now, in bed mostly, and in that time he had yet to see Damian except for the ride back from the hospital.

Now the boy was standing at the threshold with a tea service in his hands, his mouth curled in an uncertain frown. “Am I… interrupting?”

Dick smirked and made a show of looking around the empty bedroom. “Yeah. I’m pretty swamped here, as you can see.”

“You know what I meant.”

“I know, but it was a dumb question, anyway. You know you’re never interrupting, Damian. C’mon.” Dick waved him in with a jerk of his chin then froze and winced as a jolt of pain shot up his spine and into his head.

Damian entered stiffly and set the tray on the bedside table, shoving aside pill bottles and a glass of water.

“Damian?” Dick asked after what felt like a long pause. Damian’s eyes were locked on the tea set, his face scrunched in a way that made him look nervous and uncomfortable and young.

Dick reached out with his good hand and tugged on the boy’s sleeve. “Hey, you okay?”

“Of course, I am,” Damian snapped, pulling his arm out of reach. He scowled at a bookshelf. “Drake is having a difficult time.”

“Tim?” Dick tried to push himself more upright and quickly aborted that mission with a hiss when he felt a sharp tug at the sutures across his abdomen. “What do you mean? What’s going on?”

“He blames himself for what happened. For not locating you sooner.”

“He told you that?”

“I overheard him talking to Stephanie.”

“Aw, Tim.” Tim had been noticeably distant, it was true, but Dick had interpreted it as general anxiety about the whole situation. Never in a million years would he have guessed that Tim had managed to convince himself this was his fault.

Damian muttered something, hands now shoved into his pockets.

“What?”

“I said he is a fool. To act as if he is the one who…” Damian swallowed hard, glowering at the carpet.

Birds were gathering and chirping in a bush by the open window, and though the curtains were drawn to protect Dick’s concussed brain from harsh light, hazy beams still found their way in, spilling across the floor and along the foot of the bed.

“He is not the one to blame,” Damian finished.

“No one is.” Dick couldn’t tell if it was the drugs or his injuries that were making this conversation so hard to follow, but he felt like he was missing something, straggling two steps behind. “At least, not any of you.”

Damian looked at him with open disbelief. “I failed you, Richard. If not for my ineptitude, you wouldn’t have– I should have gone with you when you left that night. None of this would have happened if I had just–”

“Stop.” Dick had meant it to be firm, but the word sounded more like a plea. His head was really pounding now, and keeping the pain out of his voice was becoming increasingly difficult. “You can’t let yourself start doing that or else you’ll never stop. It was a freakish, sucky thing that none of us could have anticipated and therefore probably couldn’t have avoided, either. And yeah, maybe if you had been there it wouldn’t have happened. Or maybe something worse would’ve happened instead. We don’t know and we never will, but what I do know is that you did the best you could in the moment.”

“And it was not good enough.”

“Damian–”

“It is my job to be good enough,” Damian maintained. “If I can’t protect you then…” He let the rest go unsaid, his lips pressing together as his eyes glistened. “I am supposed to be able to protect you.”

Oh. So that’s what this was about.

“Damian,” Dick tried again, and what was meant to be a sigh turned into a low groan as his ribs refused to cooperate.

Damian tensed, wide-eyed.

“We’re good. I’m okay,” Dick promised before the boy could sound the alarms. Then, “I’m not Batman anymore, Damian. You’re not my Robin. You don’t have to put that kind of pressure on yourself.”

And again, Damian gave him a look like Dick still just wasn’t getting it, like he missing something glaring and obvious and not worth explaining except to say, “Yes, I do, Richard.”

Dick started to say something, but Damian continued, “You are saying that excessive self-reproach is counter-productive. I understand the sentiment. And I appreciate it. Thank you.”

He turned to the tea service and begin pouring a cup, his entire demeanor changed, suddenly casual . “How is your pain?”

“I…” Dick paused, once again feeling off balance and too slow as the tone and subject of the discussion switched so suddenly. “A four.”

“So, a seven,” Damian deduced, taking one of the pill bottles from the nightstand and opening it after checking the label. “Alfred said if it is above a five then you are to take two of these.”

Dick considered fighting him on this, reluctant to lose the rest of the morning to a drug-fueled haze, but the pulsing ache beneath his skull and the one radiating through his ribs made it difficult. He let Damian tip the capsules into his open palm and threw them back without complaint.

“You got anything planned this morning?” Dick asked, accepting the cup the tea Damian held out.

“Nothing important.”

“Great.” Dick reached across his chest with his good arm to pat the open space in the bed beside him.

After a brief hesitation, Damian circled the mattress and climbed in, his movements so careful that Dick hardly jostled at all.

“What language are you on right now?” Dick asked, settling back into the pillows. It might have been psychosomatic, but already he was feeling drowsy.

“Hungarian.”

“Huh. What happened to Korean?”

“Too easy. I finished that a week ago,” Damian said dismissively, though there was a self-satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.

Dick chuckled. “Show-off. How far along are you?”

“More or less conversational.”

“Nice.” Dick’s eyes were closed now. “Show me something.”

“I am not circus monkey, Richard.”

“Y’know, I grew up in the circus,” Dick mumbled. “The monkeys were my favorite. Miss those little guys.”

He thought he heard Damian sigh – or maybe it was a laugh – before the boy asked, “What do you want to hear?”

“That song Bruce hums all the time. The one he sings when he thinks he’s alone. What’s it called?”

Damian’s voice sounded muffled and far away when he answered, “Am I Blue.”

“Yeah. That.”

Damian cleared his throat and began to recite the lyrics in near-perfect Hungarian. He paused occasionally to search for a word, at times reversing to correct a conjugation before moving on.

Dick was almost completely gone now. The bed had fallen away, and he felt like he was floating through the air with Damian’s voice as a welcome backdrop.

He didn’t notice the quiet chatter had stopped until Damian asked, “Richard?”

“Mm…?”

“You’re not just Batman to me. I mean, that is not why I feel responsible for your wellbeing.”

“’Kay. Y’too…”

After a brief pause, the gentle half-singing began again, and Dick slipped away on the familiar melody.

______________

All of the lights were off in the den when Alfred breezed in with a tray of hot chocolate just as A Charlie Brown Christmas began on the TV. Cass and Stephanie’s arms sprang up from their spots on the floor like weeds, and he placed mugs in their waiting hands before circling around to the others. Tim, curled up on the sofa, accepted his with a muttered thanks without looking up from his phone. Bruce took one for himself and one for Damian who was smushed into his side, mouth hanging open in dead sleep. When Alfred got to where Barbara and Dick were sharing a blanket on the couch, he smiled and set their mugs on the end table.

“Thanks, Alfred,” Dick whispered, glancing over at Barbara’s head on his shoulder to find that she had fallen asleep.

“Of course,” Alfred said. He set the tray aside and took a seat in a nearby chair. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Dick answered, perhaps a bit too quickly because Alfred raised a dubious eyebrow at him.

“Honest,” he added with a rueful grin.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it.”

They sat in silence for a while, the only noise coming from the TV and hushed laughter and whispers between Cassandra and Stephanie on the floor.

The air was thick with the ghost of Thanksgiving dinner and fresh hot chocolate, creating a warm bouquet that was at once comforting and nostalgic. Bruce had a faint smile on his face as he watched the movie, colors and lights splashing across his face. He had one arm draped over Damian’s small frame as if holding him there.

At some point, Tim had stowed his phone and turned so that his legs dangled off the armrest and he could see the screen better, hot chocolate clutched between his hands.

It was one of those admittedly rare moments where there was no clock ticking anywhere in the background. There was work to be done, for sure, but it was not a looming obligation. Tonight, the city for once was quiet. Dick couldn’t remember the last time he had passed an uninterrupted holiday in this house.

“Something is on your mind,” Alfred noted, taking a small sip from his mug.

“I was just thinking about today.”

“Nothing short of a miracle,” the older man said, instantly understanding.

“No kidding. It almost feels suspicious. Like the calm before the–”

“Don’t,” he said firmly, his face illuminated just enough by the TV for Dick to register the stern frown there. “I will not allow you to sully this gift with your dark premonitions. Just enjoy this for what it is: a welcome and much needed respite after the events of the past few weeks.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” Dick conceded, cringing a little in self-reproach. “Sorry, Al.”

The old man nodded, his face softening. “Now, would you mind telling me what is actually on your mind?”

Dick let out a breathy, half-hearted laugh. “You’re good.”

“I am indeed.”

With a sigh, he looked toward the TV. A Black Friday commercial was advertising half-priced gaming systems.

“Hey,” Tim whispered, waving his arm at Stephanie.

“What?”

“Get me that.” He pointed at the commercial, and Stephanie scoffed at him before resuming her muted conversation with Cass. After a few days and a much-needed conversation, Dick was happy to see Tim back to his normal self.

“It’s been a while,” he admitted now, returning his attention to Alfred who was watching him patiently, “since I’ve heard from Jason. Over a month, actually. Not the longest we’ve gone without speaking, but it’s the longest in a while.”

The cup paused halfway to Alfred’s mouth, his brow creasing. “Over a month?”

“Yeah,” Dick sighed. “We went on patrol together in October and things got a little rough. I said some stuff and we haven’t spoken since. I’m not even sure he’s still in the city.”

When Alfred continued to look at him, Dick asked, “What?”

“If you don’t mind my asking, how has your memory been as of late?”

Dick adjusted himself, gingerly repositioning Barbara’s head on his shoulder when he felt her beginning to slide off. “Fine now. I can’t remember much of that night. Or, pretty much anything, really. But otherwise I’m all right. Why?”

“And the others? What have they told you?”

“About what happened? I haven’t asked. I didn’t want to... Well, you know.”

“Indeed,” Alfred said with a somber nod, setting down his mug. “It is a night, or a week, rather, that I’m certain we would all like to leave firmly in the past. But even so, I believe there are at least a few details that you ought to know.”

#damian wayne #dick grayson whump #nightwing #nightwing whump #batman fanfic #batfam fanfic #batfam fanfiction #batman fanfiction #AllOurBrokenParts #dick grayson #whump #hurt/comfort

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yaimlight · 4 years ago

Text

Rating : 18+

Summary : Bakugou, Todoroki and reader have a bit of fun whilst the boys are supposed to be on duty.

Series : Twos Company, Threes a Crowd

Cross post on AO3. Find me under LokiLover89

“Thank you!” The young girl called as she ran away back to her friends, waving enthusiastically as she went. Sighing Shoto offered her a small awkward wave in return, the action causing her group of friends to burst into giggles. “Fucking finally. I thought they would never leave” Katsuki grumbled next him and Shoto had to agree. He knew that a large chunk of hero work was interacting with the public and building their image but he really could do without the seemingly constant stream of people demanding photos and his attention, snapping image after image as if he didn’t have anything better to do with his time.

He and Katsuki had just spent the last twenty minutes with the group of girls that couldn’t be no more than a year or two younger than them, taking photo after photo with them in various poses and positions until they were satisfied. He was surprised Katsuki hadn’t snapped at them, demanding they get lost but after he tanked two points in the last hero ranking Shoto assumed he was probably trying to improve his image somewhat, though he may be regretting that decision now. Shoto had come close a couple of times though, growing impatient and wanting to just get on with his job. Not that there had been much of that to do tonight. All the villains and criminals seemingly deterred by the cold November night and the threat of snow that hung over the city.

Now the group of girls had moved on the street had fallen quite, not many people still out this close to midnight and that was how Shoto liked it. He was always suspicious of people wondering around in the middle of the night, especially now that most places were closing down. “Fuck its cold” Katsuki grumbled.

Shoto turned his head slightly to look at him, raising an eyebrow as the other man rubbed at his arms. He looked good in his winter costume, the fabric pulled tight across him and clinging to all his muscles. He had ditched the normal black and orange tank top in favour of a black long sleeved top. It still had the orange x across the chest but it now had two orange bands wrapped around his biceps that seemed to make the muscles look bigger. His collar was high, the black fabric covering the bottom half of his face so Shoto couldn’t see the permanent scowl of his plush lips.

“What?” Katsuki growled, turning to glare at Shoto. He had be caught starring and if it had been anyone else Shoto would feel embarrassed but this had happened enough times now that neither of them cared much and even if he did deny it Shoto knew Katsuki liked the attention. Shrugging slightly Shoto turned back, looking at the street ahead of them as they continued on their patrol. “I thought your new suit had heaters built in”. He knew it did, Y/N wouldn’t stop gushing about how warm he was and was constantly cuddling up to him. Not that Shoto was jealous or anything.

“Don’t change the fact it’s fucking cold” the blonde grumbled and Shoto’s lips quirked into a soft smile. Shoto didn’t mind the cold, being able to regulate his temperature with the different aspects of his quirk but Katsuki hatted it. He said it interfered with his quirk, the cold making it impossible for him to get the sweat he needed to use it and Shoto knew that much was true but it didn’t hide the fact that he would bury himself under a mounting of blankets at home, his scowling eyes and blonde spike sticking out. It was adorable but Shoto would never say that to the other man, not wanting to end up with an explosive hand in his face.

They walked in companionable silence for a while, both of them watching their surroundings. The streets were mostly empty though and the few people they did see were too preoccupied in their own lives to bother the heroes and that was fine. The rumble of traffic was low and as they turned the corner onto a new street the faint hum of idle chatter died off and they were plunged into almost silence.

Katsuki’s phone chimed loudly for what felt like the hundredth time this evening and Katsuki cursed, yanking the thing from one of his many pockets. He yanked a glove off, hissing as it was exposed to the cold air. Shoto continued on, expecting the other man to follow along behind him like he had done every other time this phone had gone off tonight but when Shoto couldn’t hear his steady footsteps any more he stopped, turning to find the other man a few steps behind. He was stood still, staring down at his phone and Shoto knew he was frowning just from furrow between his brows. “What’s wrong?” He called out, taking a step back towards Katsuki, concerned as to what had him suddenly stopping.

Shoto’s words seemed to jerk him back to reality, Katsuki’s head snapping up to look at him with wide eyes. He looked startled and Shoto could see a light blush just underneath his mask but it was hard to tell if it was from the text or the cold. “It’s nothing” he rushed out quickly. Shoto frowned, tipping his head slightly and his brow drawn down in confusion. It clearly wasn’t nothing if the other man was acting so cagey all of a sudden. Shoto hadn’t said anything every other time Katsuki had revived a message but this one felt different somehow and Shoto wanted to know why.

Katsuki seemed to regain his composure, shrugging his shoulders and turning his attention back to his phone. “Just Kirishima checking to make sure him and the shitty extras are still allowed over Friday” he said offhandedly, sending off a quick text before shoving his phone back into its designated pocket. Shoto highly doubted that was true but Katsuki didn’t have any reason to lie to him, yet it definitely felt like that was what was going on and he didn’t like it. “A little late for him isn’t it?” Shoto said, his tone questioning with a hint of suspicion. He knew for a fact that the redhead was on early shifts this week because he had swapped with Ochaco so she could go wedding dress shopping with Momo.

Katsuki must know he had been caught out in his odd little lie because he wouldn’t meet Shoto’s eyes. Instead he was scowling, eyes darting around his surroundings as if he was looking for something in particular. “Yeah. Look I’m fucking freezing my dick off here. I’m gonna go grab a hot drink from that shitty stand back there. You want anything?” Katsuki said gruffly, finally looking at Shoto with his normal perpetual glare. His red eyes were piercing and Shoto felt pinned beneath them.

Still confused Shoto shook his head, offering the other man a ‘no’ as answer. The blonde grumbled something under his breath but Shoto couldn’t work out what it was apart from the odd curse word. “Stay here” Katsuki yelled at him over his shoulder as he stomped back the way they had come, still grumbling about something under his breath. Shoto watched him go until he disappeared around the corner, leaving him alone on the quite street. Well that had been odd and sudden.

Sighing Shoto rubbed at his eyes. Katsuki had been acting odd all evening, almost texting constantly for the past hour. That in its self was strange, normally he would shut his phone onto silent and ignore it until patrol was over then proceed to bitch and moan about the amount of unanswered messages he had from his friends. There was only one person Shoto could think off who Katsuki would answer straight away but she was supposed to be knee deep in a new project at Takahashi Enterprises with Hatsume and she never normally bothered either of them when they were working anyway. It was the only thing Shoto could think of though and it stung a little that she would be so focused all her attention on Katsuki instead of engaging them both on their shared chat.

A small thud and the sound of glass rattling had Shoto’s head snapping to the side, his eyes narrowing as he looked down the alleyway he had stopped in front of. The street lights only just illuminated the mouth of the alley, maybe a few feet but after that it was just shadows. He waited, staring into the darkness, expecting something to come charging out at him but when nothing did Shoto shrugged, assuming it must have been just a stray cat or something.

Turning back round Shoto huffed, glaring in the direction Katsuki had gone. What was taking him so long? The stand was only about a minute or two back the way they had come and Katsuki should have been back by now, his large hands wrapped around a stupidly oversized cup of coffee and with a content smile of his face. If the coffee was good enough Shoto may even be able to convince Katsuki to share it, the blonde grumbling as he handed it over like he wasn’t smiling behind his collar.

A loud crash had Shoto whipping back round, everything on alert as he stared into the darkened alleyway. That sounded a lot bigger than a cat and Shoto wouldn’t be doing his job if he didn’t go and investigate. He should probably wait for Katsuki to get back but Shoto was confident enough that he would be able to handle himself for a minute or two. Tentatively he stepped forward, left hand raised and fire dancing to life in his palm. He kept his footsteps light as he slowly ventured further into the darkened alley, his eyes darting around as he looked for any sign of threat.

His fire provided sufficient enough light for him to see but the flickering flames made the shadows seem to almost dance, giving the appearance of someone moving around him. The alley was small, wedged between two tall buildings that seemed to be using it as a dumping ground and Shoto was having to carefully make his way round broken bottles and rubbish bins. There were no windows looking down into the alley, no cameras either that he could see unless they were high up on the walls but even then it was too dark for them to capture anything. It was a good spot for an ambush and he probably shouldn’t have come down here by himself.

He was just about to turn back when movement just on the edge of his ring of light caught his attention. That was defiantly something, a person shaped something. “Who’s there?” Shoto called out into the darkness, stopping where he was to search the shadows for any sign of movement. Silence greeted him, the air around him feeling incredibly still. Shoto’s skin was prickled the distinct feeling of being watched making him uncomfortable. He was far enough away from the main street now that Katsuki would not be able to easily hear him if he called out.

Suddenly a light flickered on toward the end of the alley and Shoto spun to face it, the flame in his hand growing. It looked to be some sort of security light but there was no door or anything that would warrant one being there. The space was empty the person who had set it off seeming to have melted into the shadows. Shoto got the distinct impression he was being toyed with and he didn’t like it. “Show yourself” he called, his voice tinged with anger as he took a few steps forward towards the pool of light.

He toyed with the idea of setting off a large spurt of fire, sending it hurtling into the darkness to flush out whoever was hiding but he couldn’t chance it. He didn’t know what kind of crap had been stored down here and didn’t want to start a building fire, nor did he want to potentially kill whoever was screwing with him. Maim maybe but kill, not so much.

The hairs of the back of his neck stood on end at the sound of gentle laughter behind him and Shot was turning quickly, arm raised and ready to blast someone in the face only to find no one there. His heart was racing, his eyes darting around the shadows that seemed to be getting darker, pushing in on him until everything outside of his ring of fire light was pure darkness. This was bad, very bad. Shouto couldn’t tell what way he had come from, couldn’t even see the night sky above him. He felt trapped, cut off from the possibility of help. All he could do was hope that Katsuki would activate Shoto’s tracker when he wasn’t where he had left him and come to his aid.

The air behind him shifted and Shoto held his breath as a hand curled around his shoulder. In one quick move he turned, knocking the hand away from him and shoving the person back with a shoulder to the chest, the person grunting in pain. He wrapped his ice coved hand around their neck and pushed them back, pinning them against the wall, his left hand level with their face and the ball of fire pulsing in his hand.

“Love it when you throw me around like that, gets me all tingly”. Shoto jerked back at the familiar voice, his grip on his attacker’s neck lessening. Suddenly the world around them shimmered and the shadows vanished, everything else coming back into focus with a jarring burst of colour. Y/N smiled up at him, head tipped to the side slightly and eyes sparkling with mischief. They were stood under the security light, Shoto practically plastered against her as he used his body to keep her pinned against the wall.

He quickly stepped back, flames dying and ice melting as he realised what he was doing. She lifted a delicate hand, rubbing gently at her neck and never taking her eyes off of him. Shoto ran a shaky hand through his hair, his body humming with adrenaline from the fight he had been expecting. It wasn’t the first time he had her pinned against a wall, his quirks bursting to life but that had been during sparring and she had been giving as good as she got not during some weird shadow attack thing.

Frowning Shoto turned his full attention back to the women, narrowing his eyes at her. “Was all that you?” It had too of been, it was the only explanation for it all suddenly stopping when she had made herself known. Her smile widened as she shrugged dismissively. “You looked bored so I thought I would bring you a little excitement. Get your blood pumping”. She dragged her eyes down his body as she spoke, biting down on her lip as he eyes lingered on his crotch.

Frowning Shoto crossed his arms over his chest. She was lucky he hadn’t seriously hurt her and sure he knew that she would heal but that wasn’t the point. He always hatted having to watch her grow he skin back afterwards, it always reminding him of how he had gotten his own scare and he really didn’t want to associate the women he loved with the horror of his childhood.

“I thought you were spending the night at Takahashi’s with Hatsume”. Shoto sounded a little angry as he spoke and he wasn’t sure at who. Angry with Y/N for being so carless with her own safety or at himself for not realising it was here sooner. Either way he was angry and he didn’t appreciate her toying with him like that. Sighing she tipped her head back, her smile shifting into something softer, “She said I was distracting her so she kicked me out for a bit and I haven’t seen you for a few days so I thought I would come say hi”. Her voice was just as soft as her smile and Shoto felt some of his anger fade.

“So hi” she said giving him a little wave and with that sweet little smile still on her bitten red lips. Sighing Shoto unfolded his arms letting them fall to his sides. “Hello” he said in return, his voice low and a little bit stiff but she didn’t seem to care, her smile getting that little bit wider as she let out a little laugh. “Was that all you wanted?” Shoto asked, eyeing her expectantly. As nice as it was to finally see her Shoto wasn’t so stupid to think that was the only reason she had trekked halfway across the city.

She let out a huff of laughter before giving him her best puppy dog eyes, pouting a little to help finish the look off. “Cold. Warm me up?” Shoto raised an eyebrow at her, shaking his head in exasperation. “If you dressed in weather appropriate clothing you wouldn’t get so cold” he reprimanded, his eyes darting over her as he finally took in her outfit.

She was dressed all in black, with a high waisted pleated skirt that came down to just above her knees, Katsuki’s black t-shirt with a skull printed on the front tucked into it and a black pair of sneakers on that came all the way up to her knees and laced up the front with bright white laces. She had a black leather biker jacket on with two pins on one of the lapels. One was of one of Katsuki’s gauntlets, a little explosion coming from it that looked like one of his fins and the other was of a flame and ice twisted together. She looked good, leant across the wall and smiling enticingly at him.

“I could but then I wouldn’t have an excuse to do this” she teased as she leant forward, hooking her thumbs in his belt and tugging him forward until they were pressed against one another again. Shoto went willingly, letting out a huff of laughter. “You need excuses now?” he asked, cupping her cheek with his left hand. Y/N hummed in answer, her eyes slipping closed as she nuzzled against his palm. He could feel her cold skin heat up under his hand as she absorbed his fire quirk, her skin flushing a light red as it spread out through her body.

Shoto placed his other hand against the wall next to her head and leant in slightly, unable to resist now he was so close to her. Her eyes fluttered open as his hand slid back into her hair. As he slowly leant forward Shoto kept his eyes open, watching as hers widened when she realised what he was going to do before they closed again, Y/N tipping her head up towards him.

His dry lips brushed gently across hers, his tongue darting out to tease at the crease of her lips, just pushing inside ever so slightly before he pulled back, smirking at her annoyed whine. He didn’t get far, her hands darting out to grab at the front of his costume and yank him back down to her. He let out a surprised umph as their lips collided, Shoto’s eyes slamming closed as her lips moved demandingly against his.

It got out of hand quickly, the hand that Shoto had been supporting himself against the wall with going down to her leg instead, dragging his hand along the back of her thigh to grip at her knee and hoist her leg up as he pushed tighter against her. Her hands slid up his chest so she could drape her arms over his shoulders, one of her hands sliding into his hair and curling around the back of his skull. The kiss its self was hard and demanding, their tongues battling for dominance as they tried to devour one another. Shoto hadn’t realised how much he wanted this, how much he had missed it until the moment their lips connected. It had been days and he felt like a starving man who had just been given a steak.

She nipped at his lip before soothing it with her tongue and Shoto moaned, grinding his half hard dick against her. They should stop, needed to stop before things went too far and he couldn’t. It was one thing to be caught making out down a dingy back alley but it would be something entirely different if they were caught having sex because that was where Shoto knew this would end if they didn’t stop in the next few seconds.

“What the actual fuck” came an angry call and they both stilled. With a sigh Shoto pulled back, just enough to rest his forehead against Y/Ns and turned to look at the angry blonde who was glaring at them, his collar folded down so you could see all his face. How had neither of them heard him approaching? “Knock it off” Katsuki growled, eyes narrowing and Y/N laughed, shoving at Shoto’s shoulders to get him to move, her out line seeming to shimmer slightly.

Scowling Shoto reluctantly stepped back, letting her leg go as he moved to the side. He slumped against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and defiantly not pouting. Y/N stepped in between them, smiling widely as she spoke. “Shoto was just helping me warm up” she explained and Katsuki grunted. His eyes moved past Y/N and dragged over Shoto’s body, his red eyes narrowing when he saw that bulge in his jumpsuit. Shoto had to fight the shiver that wanted to run down his spine at having the other man’s eyes on him so intently.

“Is that what he was doing?” Shoto turned his head to the side, feeling the slight flush forming on his cheeks. Katsuki was teasing him, Shoto could hear it in his voice but it didn’t change the fact that he still felt like a school kid getting caught behind the bike shed by a teacher. Katsuki didn’t like it when he wasn’t included, Shoto had learnt that the hard way.

Katsuki stepped forward and Shoto’s head snapped back to him, watching as he crowded in close to Y/N a wicked smirk on his lips. “Maybe I should help with that” his voice was full of amusement as he took the final step forward into Y/Ns space. His hands darted out, grabbing at her arm and yanking her forward as he dived for her lips in what looked like a bruising kiss.

She let out a moan, her body arching into the blondes as he wrapped an arm around her waist, the other going to her hair. Shoto could do nothing more than watch as Katsuki dominated the kiss, their lips moving fast and hard against one another’s. He could feel his dick hardening, pressing against his zipper but he couldn’t help it. He had always found the two of them incredibly enticing and loved watching them together, almost as much as he liked Katsuki watching him and Y/N together.

His eyes darted down to Katsuki’s gloved hand as it slowly slid down Y/Ns back, gently brushing over her arse and sliding down her thigh. His fingers played with the edge of her skirt, twisting the fabric between his fingers before he slowly started to slide his hand back up, pushing the fabric up with him. Shoto let out a small moan as he exposed her arse to the cool air, his hand curling around her plump cheek and squeezing. Y/Ns moan had Shoto’s head snapping up, wanting to see the blissed out look that he knew would be on her face but what he found was Katsuki smirking at him, red eyes practically glowing.

“I think someone is feeling a little left out” He mumbled into Y/Ns neck, never taking his eyes off Shoto as placed a kiss under her jaw, nipping gently at it and dragging another small moan from her. Shoto barley had time to react as Katsuki stepped forward, pushing Y/N back until her back was pressed tight against Shoto’s chest. Out of habit Shot’s hands went to her waist, holding her still as her arse pushed against his hard dick. His head tipped forward as he let out a low groan, burying his face in her neck.

He lifted his head as Katsuki pushed forward, sandwiching the smaller women between the two of them, his smirk wide and hungry as he looked down at them. “Wouldn’t want you sulking now, would we?” Shoto scowled at him, wrapping his arms around Y/Ns waist and pulling her tighter against him. He hadn’t been sulking, just feeling a little left out.

Groaning Y/N tipped her head back, resting it on Shoto’s shoulder. ”Less talking more doing. Some of us have a time limit” she demanded, rolling her hips and making both men groan. It was an odd thing to say and Shoto was about to ask what she meant when Katsuki growled, a gloved hand slinging over Shoto’s to grip her hips. “So fucking needy” he growled, rolling his hips and pushing her back against Shoto. He let out a gasp, his grip on her hips tightening and holding her in place as her arse pushed flushed against his dick.

He watched as her lips spread in a smirk, her eyes finding Katsuki’s. She lifted one arm, her fingers slipping in to Shoto’s hair and tugging gently whilst the other curled around his thigh. “So why don’t you hurry up and come satisfy me” she challenged, lifting her head to look at his properly and sucking her bottom lip between her teeth. Katsuki snarled at the challenge, diving forward and kissing her hungrily.

Katsuki’s hands split, one staying on Y/Ns waist whilst the other slid back to curl around Shoto’s hip, gripping it tightly. Shoto gasped at the sudden contact, muffling the sound in her neck as his hips jerking forward to grind his hard dick against Y/Ns arse. She moaned in the kiss, her grip tightening in Shoto’s hair and he groaned loudly, placing hot and cold kisses along her neck and loving all the muffled sounds she was making that Katsuki was swallowing greedily.

This was wrong. They shouldn’t be doing this in such an open place. It didn’t matter that it was the middle of the night, someone could walk past and see them at any minute and they would all be done for because they were stood in the light and there would be no mistaking what pro heroes Ground Zero and IcyHot were doing to Noir. They would be able to see him grinding and groaning against her like a desperate slut and Katsuki dominating the both. The thought shouldn’t send pleasure zinging through his body, shouldn’t get his dick twitching but it did and Shoto found his mind fogging over with lust as he bit down on the sensitive skin behind Y/Ns ear.

She tore her head away from Katsuki, her head falling against Shoto’s shoulder as she gasped, eyes closed and cheeks nicely flushed. Shoto lifted his head just enough to smirk at Katsuki over her shoulder and slowly started to slide his hands up along her stomach, his long fingers tickling at her sides and causing her to squirm between them. He didn’t stop until he cupped his hands over her breasts, squeezing gently. He didn’t take his eyes off Katsuki as he kissed and nipped at her neck, deft fingers pinching at twisting at her hard nipples and causing Y/N to make these sweet little gasps and whimpers that they both loved so much.

Katsuki narrowed his eyes at him, folding his arms over his chest and Shoto instantly missed the weight of his hand on him, his grip tight and keeping Shoto pinned in place. “So that’s how you wonna playing huh bastard?” Katsuki growled and Shoto felt the shiver of excitement and anticipation that rolled down his back. Smirking he bit down hard causing Y/N to cry out loudly. There was no way people hadn’t heard that, the sound cutting sharply through the quite night air but none of them seemed to care much, Shoto enjoying the annoyed growl that Katsuki made.

“Fine” Katsuki snapped and Shoto only had enough time to lift his head before Katsuki was grabbing Y/Ns hips and spinning her. Shoto let out a hiss of pain as her hand was jerked from his hair and she let out a squeak of protest as she found her chest pressed against Shoto’s. Her hands fumbled, bracing herself against the wall so she didn’t smack her face into Shoto’s, his own going to her waist to help steady her. “What the actual fuck” she hissed, head turned to the side and glaring daggers.

Katsuki snarled, stepping in close and pressing his chest against her back. He leant forward, placing one hand in the wall next to Shoto’s face and gripping her chin with the other, turning her head back towards him just a little bit more. “Blame the half ‘n’ half bastard. He seems to think he has some sort of control over what’s happening here” Katsuki growled before he lent in and sealed his lips over hers in a quick but hard kiss. Y/N smirked turning her head to look at Shoto, her eyes dark and gleaming with lust and amusement. “How unfortunate for him”.

Shoto’s eyes widened, his mouth flapping like a fish as he tried to think of something to say but nothing was coming to mid. They were ganging up on him and Shoto didn’t quite know how to handle that. Y/N pushed her hands against his stomach, her fingers spread wide and dragging across his muscles as she slowly slid her hands up his chest, mimicking his movement from just moments ago.

Katsuki let go of her chin, his hand going back to Shoto’s hip, gripping it hard and keeping him pushed back against the wall. Both of them were smirking as Y/N lent up, her lips going to his neck. Groaning Shoto tipped his head back, giving her more room to run her hot lips across his cool skin. He could feel her smiling against him as she nipped at his throat, her hands squeezing at his pecs.

He was breathing heavily as she pulled back, just enough to get her hands between them and undo the metal clasp that held the two sides of his collar together. She tipped her head back, Katsuki nuzzling against her neck, his red eyes watching Shoto and smirking dangerously. Shoto let out a little whimper, feeling like prey caught in the other man’s gaze, like he was about to be devoured and he would welcome it with open arms and a desperate please tumbling from his lips.

Y/N lent forward her warm lips going to the newly exposed skin, biting and sucking along his collar bone. There would be marks left behind, proof of what they would do to him and Shoto loved it. Loved to see all the dark and angry marks in the mirror when he got dressed. Loved it when people would question what animal he had let maul him when he changed into his hero costume, always refusing to tell them anything but most of all he loved to push his fingers against the tender mark on those lonely night, having nothing but his own hand and half formed fantasy’s mixed with memories to get himself off.

Katsuki’s smirk got wider, his perfect white teeth flashing in the hazy yellow light and Shoto was reminded of a shark about to rip its prey apart. He shivered in anticipation, hips rolling forward as he tried to get some kind of friction on his neglected dick but Katsuki’s tight grip kept him firmly in place. Y/N laughed as he let out a pathetic whine, his hands gripping at her hips as he tried to pull her against him instead. She shifted slightly as she moved forward, sliding her thigh between his legs and ground against him.

Shoto was gone, hips rolling forward as he chased his own pleasure, his hands gripping at Y/Ns waist to keep her against him. He didn’t even feel Katsuki let go of him, not until he felt two gloved fingers gently rubbing at his lips. Shoto’s eyes fluttered open, completely unaware that he had even closed them and looked at the other man with hooded eyes. “Open up” he growled and Shoto obeyed without a second thought. Katsuki slid his fingers in, pushing down on Shoto’s teeth until he bit down on the fabric. He kept his jaw tightly closed, biting down hard on the sweet tasting finger tips as Katsuki pulled his hand back, tugging his hand free of the glove. As soon as he hand was free Y/N reached up, tugging the glove from his mouth.

“Good boy” she murmured, letting the glove fall to the floor and Shoto preened. She lent up, sealing her lips over his in a slow and gentle kiss, a complete contrast to the hard and fast roll of her hips as she worked her thigh against him. Shoto was moaning and gasping into the kiss, his hands sliding round to grab at her arse. The back of his hands dragged against Katsuki’s thighs, his knuckles brushing dangerously close to the other man’s dick and it took all his considerable self-restraint to not cup his hand over him and squeeze the sizeable length. They weren’t there yet and Shoto really didn’t want to ruin what was going on here.

Y/Ns hands were back on his chest, fingers playing with the zipper of his jumpsuit, her delicate fingers teasingly dipping under the fabric to brush against his over sensitive skin. He could feel Katsuki’s hand pushing between the two of them, his knuckles digging into Shoto as he squeezed at her breast and she moaned into his mouth. Shoto took the opportunity, pushing his tongue between her parted lips and rubbing it across hers.

Shoto’s eyes snapped open, jerking back from Y/N with a startled and choked off moan as Katsuki slid his hand down lower, the back of his hand pushing against Shoto’s dick as he worked his hand between them and slid his hands between her legs. She shifted back slightly, her head falling to rest on Shoto’s shoulder and hands gripping at the fabric of his suit. He watched with wide eyes as Katsuki pushed himself tight against her back, trapping Shoto’s hand against her arse with hips, his hard dick pushing against the swell of her arse and the back of Shoto’s fingers.

He could feel the other man’s fingers as they slid under the edge of her skirt, skimming across her thigh. She gasped against Shoto’s neck, her hot breath making his cold sling tingle as Katsuki slipped his fingers under her underwear and along her folds. The way they were with Y/N straddling his leg Shoto could feel every move of the other man’s hand. Could feel him gently dragging his fingers against her, Y/N letting out these sinful little whines against his neck. Shoto felt helpless, gripping tighter at her arse as she rolled her hips forward to get more but Katsuki just moved his fingers away, laughing darkly.

He lent in closer, mouth by her ear and eyes level with Shoto’s. They stared at one another, close enough that if he wanted Shoto could just lean forward and seal their lips together. Katsuki’s eyes flickered down to Shoto’s lips as he licked at his own and Shoto let out his own needy little whine. Smirking Katsuki turned his head, keeping his eyes on Shoto as he nipped at Y/Ns ear. “You know what I want”. His voice was low and rumbling, a teasing edge to it and Shoto could feel him just gently brushing his fingers against her.

Y/N let out a shaky breath and lifted her head. Her face was flushed, her lips bitten red and her eyes blown wide with lust. She looked beautiful and far enough gone that Shoto knew she would probably agree to anything right now to get some sort of relief. She licked at her lips and both men tracked the movement, entranced as a small smile pulled at her kiss swollen lips. “Please” she said, her voice low and breathless and the tension snapped.

Katsuki growled, his lips going to her neck as he pushed his fingers into her. Shoto pushed his lips hard against hers, only just managing to muffle the sound of her cry as Katsuki set as fast a rhythm as he could with Shoto’s leg in his way. She was gasping and moaning into the kiss, her hips rolling forward onto Katsuki’s fingers and pushing her thigh against Shoto’s dick. They both pulled away from his kiss gasping, Y/Ns head tipping back to rest against Katsuki’s shoulder.

Katsuki lifted his head to nuzzle behind Y/Ns ear and Shoto got a look at what the other man had been doing. The bite mark on her neck was large and angry looking, the clear indent of Katsuki’s teeth visible through the red and purple splotch where he had been sucking at it. The mark was low enough that her jacket would hide it and if it was anyone else the mark would be there for days for all to see but this was Y/N and Katsuki would be lucky if it was still there come morning.

“I though half ‘n’ half was supposed to be the perv but look at you, fucking dripping around my fingers” Katsuki growled, pushing his hips forward as she sunk onto his fingers and stopping her from being able to move. Shoto couldn’t feel Katsuki’s fingers moving any more but from the breathless gasp Y/N made Shoto knew he had to rubbing over her clit with his thumb.

“Stop teasing” she whined, turning her head to glare at the blonde as best as she could. Katsuki laughed lowly, his fingers shifting slightly and causing her breath to hitch. “I would but someone isn’t holding up their end of the deal”. Shoto frowned, confused as to what Katsuki was talking about. Oh. This had been planned, the two of them deciding how this was going to go before Shoto had even took his first steps in the alleyway. He didn’t know whether he should be angry or impressed.

Y/N rolled her eyes and pouted, clearly unimpressed she was being denied what she wanted. “Fine” she huffed turning her attention back to Shoto. He sucked in a breath as her hands dragged down his chest, her pout turning into a smirk. She made quick work of his belt, letting it fall to the floor with a thud before going back up for his zipper. As soon as her fingers curled around his zipper Katsuki started to move his fingers again, fucking them into her as fast and hard as he could. “Fuck” she moaned, her head tipping back and her hands stilling. “Not if you don’t get on with it” Katsuki teases, winking at Shoto as he nipped at the bite mark, making her moan once more.

Grumbling she yanked down the zipper of Shoto’s jumpsuit, her hands warm as she slid them under his suit. She pushed the two sides of fabric apart, her nails dragging along his muscles and causing him to hiss at the sudden sting of pain. Everywhere she was touching felt like electricity was dancing over his skin, sending sparks of arousal through him and he wanted more.

Katsuki stepped back slightly, tugging Y/N back with his free hand wrapped around her waist and putting some space between her and Shoto. He wasn’t proud of the noise he made, his hands gripping tight enough at her arse that his nails were digging in as he tried to keep the pressure on his dick. “Don’t worry love, I have something much better for you” she purred, leaning up to place a delicate kiss on his lips. Shoto’s eyes fluttered closed as he kissed her back, losing himself in the gentle movement of her lips and the little moans she was making, so much so that he barely noticed her hands sliding down his abs with intent.

Shoto’s eyes flew open, a loud moan tumbling over his parted lips as she plunged her hand into his underwear, wrapping it around his straining dick and pulling him free of his confines. Slowly she dragged her hand over him, rubbing her thumb over his leaking tip and smearing precum across his red and swollen head.

She was smirking at him, her chest heaving as Katsuki continued to work his fingers in and out of her, digging his knuckles into Shoto’s leg every time her pulled them out. Shoto stared down at her, wishing she was in her own hero uniform so he could actually see the swell of her breasts, watch as they rose and fell with every breath she took. He would be able to duck his head down and get his lips on the soft and unblemished skin, kissing and sucking his way across her chest and adding his own bite marks.

Y/Ns hand tightened around him as she focused her movements on the head, sliding it through her fingers and dragging them down his shaft. His moan was loud Y/Ns own mixing into it. Katsuki hooked his chin over her shoulder, dark eyes watching Shoto as his breathing picked up, mouth hanging open. “If you don’t shut your mouth I’ll take it as an invitation” Katsuki growled, eyes narrowing. Shoto tried, he really did. Licking at his dry lips before biting down on them, muffling his little gasps and moans but Y/N was good at turning him into a pathetic, desperate mess and it wasn’t long before his mouth was falling open again on a gasp as she twisted her hand on the down stroke, dragging her thump along the sensitive vein.

“I think he wants something” Y/N said breathlessly but still managing to sound teasing and Shoto wanted to tell her to shove off but it turned into a groan as she dug the thumb into his leaking slit. “It would be rude to refuse such a blatant invite” Katsuki mumbled, turning to kiss Y/N and all Shoto could do was watch as he pushed his tongue into her mouth, swallowing her moan as he twisted his fingers.

They broke apart, both of them breathing heavily and Y/N nipped hard at his lip. It was the first time since this had started that Shoto saw the other mans controlled exterior crack just a little, his eyes dark and hungry as he growled at her, the sound low and threatening. She whined as he slipped his fingers from her, Katsuki glaring down at her with a satisfied smirk. He lifted his glistening fingers to Shoto’s lips, both of them turning to watch him as he opened his mouth wider.

He eagerly sucked the two fingers into his mouth, moaning as his mouth was flooded with their mixed taste. “So fucking tight” Katsuki growled, spreading his fingers and pushing down on Shoto’s tongue. “Bet you would be a good little cock sucker”. Shoto hummed eagerly, nodding his head as best as he could and curled his tongue around his fingers, sucking hard. He had never sucked dick before, had never wanted to but Shoto knew that should Katsuki ever ask him to he would be on his knees in seconds.

Y/N leant forward, kissing up his neck and jaw, her hand slowing to just a gentle glide across his aching member. She placed a gentle kiss on the corner of Shoto’s stretched lips, her tongue flicking out to lick along where Katsuki’s fingers pressed in. Katsuki chuckled as he slipped his fingers free from Shoto’s lips only to push them into Y/Ns waiting mouth. “Don’t worry kitten, you always suck me best” Katsuki practically purred, red eyes watching intently and licking at his lips.

She locked eyes with Shoto, her lips spreading into a smirk around the other man’s fingers as she started to bob her head. She matched the movements of her hand to what she was doing with her mouth, her thump swiping over the head on every up stroke just like she would do with her tongue if her was buried in the warm, tight heat of her mouth.

Shoto tipped his head back, resting it against the wall as he panted. “Fuck” he hissed, his hips jerking forward into her hold. His hands slid down her arse, pushing up the fabric of her skirt so he could finally get his hands on her bare flesh, his nails digging into her cheeks. She moaned around the fingers, sinking her mouth down as far as it could go. Shoto knew the moment she swallowed, Katsuki hissing a quite ‘shit’ before quickly pulling his fingers free.

She licked at her lips, winking at Shoto as she slowed down her hand again. He groaned, the pressure that had been building slowly easing as her hand loosened and it became just a gently brush of her fingers against his shaft. She pushed up, pressing her chest against his as she slid her other hand into his hair, pushing his head down towards hers. “Can’t have you ruining our fun too soon” she whispered, lips brushing against his as she spoke.

Glaring Shoto thrust his hips forward, trying to get more friction but Y/N tightened her grip in his hair, yanking his head back and exposing his neck to her sharp teeth. She bit down hard, right by his adam’s apple and he cried out, eyes slamming closed. He felt her laugh against the saw spot, her lips brushing against it before she sucked it into her mouth. It was too high up and there would be no way he would be able to hide it when they got back to the office. People were going to know what he had been doing, would probably think Katsuki had put it there and that was one rumour they could do without at the moment.

Y/Ns hand started to move again, still slowly but her grip a little firmer. Shoto kept his eyes closed, losing himself to the feel of her hand working his dick and her warm lips leaving a trail of burning kisses along his cool skin, the grip on his hair keeping his head pulled back. Vaguely Shoto was aware of the sound of a belt being unclipped, a zipper being yanked down and Katsuki letting out a loan groan. There was the rustle of foil followed by a groaned out curse and Y/Ns soft laughter against his neck.

Large hands grabbed his, sliding them round to Y/Ns hips. Shoto opened his eyes, frowning at the other man but Katsuki just winked. “Hold her steady for me” he growled and Shoto swallowed, nodding his head slightly in understanding. Y/N whined against his neck as Katsuki grabbed her hips, pulling her bottom half back a little and kicked at the inside of her legs to get her to spread them a little more. One of Katsuki’s hands disappeared between them whilst he pressed the other one flat against the wall next to Shoto’s head, his muscles flexing as he steadied himself.

Katsuki was too close to Y/N for Shoto to see what he was doing but he knew the minute the other man pushed into her. She tensed against him, her open mouth pressing against his collar bone as she moaned, her hand stilling on his dick. Katsuki groaned as he pushed into her in one quick thrust, his head falling forward to rest against her shoulder. “Always so god damn tight” he groaned, his hand curling around Shoto’s on her hip. They stayed like that for a moment, everyone trying to calm their racing hearts.

Groaning Y/N shifted, her hand slipping from Shoto’s hair to brace herself against the wall. Shoto felt trapped between the two of them, their arms bracketing him and keeping him in place. “Move already” Y/N grumbled, pushing her hips back and causing Katsuki to let out a grunt, lifting his head to look at Shoto. “Hold on” he growled and Shoto tightened his hold on Y/Ns hips.

He watched as Katsuki slowly pulled back, his brows knitted in concentration, looking down to where they were joined and Shoto wished he could really see it to, wished he could watch the other man fuck into her properly. Y/N cried out when Katsuki slammed back in, her hips pushing hard against Shoto’s hands as Katsuki pushed her forward. He set a bruising pace, hips snapping into her hard and face, the two of them moaning. Y/N tightened her grip around Shoto’s dick as she moved her hand over him, her hand stroking down him every time Katsuki fucked into her.

It didn’t take long for Shoto to feel the muscles in his stomach twitching, heat pooling low in his belly as he raced towards his end but Y/N stopped, her hand gripping tight at the base of his dick to stop him from releasing. She did this twice more until Shoto was a pathetic desperate mess, his body vibrating with the need to cum. “Please, I need to cum” he begged Y/N, his voice rough and desperate. Katsuki was the one to answer him though, growling his words through gritted teeth as he continued to fuck into Y/N. “You can cum when she does you little slut”.

Y/N let out a breathless laughter and Shoto whined. He didn’t know if he could take much more of this teasing, being driven to the edge only to be denied relief. His eyes were starting to water and his dick was throbbing with the need to cum and it had been so long since he had felt her hands on him that he was surprised he had made it this far. Soft lips brushed gently across his and Shoto sighed, the tension easing in his shoulder as he kissed her back just as softly. “I need more” she whispered, nipping gently at his bottom lip. “Will you give it to me Sho?”

Groaning he nodded dumbly, staring down at her with longing. “She means use you’re fucking fingers dip shit” Katsuki snapped when Shoto didn’t move, grabbing tightly at his hand and moving it round to press against her pussy. “The quicker we get her to cum the sooner you can” Katsuki said, winking at Shoto before letting go of his hands. He gripped tightly at Y/Ns hair, yanking her head back and she gasped at the sudden action, her hand squeezing tightly at Shoto’s dick as she dragged her hand up.

Katsuki leaned in until his mouth was next to her ear, his hips stilling. “Beg for it” he growled, Y/N whimpering as he gripped her hair tighter. “Please give it to me” she gasped as she tried to roll her hips but they had a tight grip on her and she couldn’t get the movement she wanted. She let out an annoyed groan, her brow creasing as she frowned. “Please. It’s been so long and I want it so badly. Please let me have it, make me cum so hard they hear me screaming your names a block away”. Her voice was desperate as she begged, the sweet words tumbling over her lips and Shoto’s heart stuttered as his dick twitched.

They moved as one, Katsuki growling as he started to snap his hips into her fast and hard. At the same time Shoto ducked forward, sealing his lips over her neck as he slid his fingers down, rubbing hard at her clit. She cried out at their assault, her eyes squeezed shut and nails scratching along the stone. The sound of her cry was ringing in Shoto’s ears but he didn’t care, it was the best sound he had heard for days and he would still be hearing it ringing in his ears come morning. Her hand starting moving over his aching length again, her movements fast and uncoordinated and he moaned, biting down over the mark that Katsuki had already left behind.

He was speeding towards his climax quickly, all of them racing towards the finish but Y/N had to cum first. Shoto wouldn’t put it past Katsuki to punish him somehow if they didn’t get her off first, probably tie him to a chair and make him watch him reduce Y/N to mumbling mess. It wouldn’t be the first time he had done it and it probably wouldn’t be the last, the blonde liking the control it gave him too much. Shoto never complained though.

Taking a deep breath Shoto tried to concentrate, covering his fingers with ice as he pressed down against her sensitive clit. “Shoto!” She called out her rhythm stuttering and Shoto would swear that the alleyway seemed to shimmer for a second, the image destroying before snapping back into place. “Would you fucking focus” Katsuki growled, tugging at Y/Ns hair until she hissed. “I’m trying but it’s hard when you’re....ahhh” Y/Ns irritated words cut off into a cry as Katsuki slammed into her particularly hard, his smirk wide and dangerous.

Confused Shoto leant back against the wall, trying to figure out what they were talking about but all other thoughts left his mind as Y/N sealed her hand around his leaking head and squeezed. He moaned her name as she set up a fast pace, his head squeezing between her fingers only to be sucked back in. “You were saying” Katsuki teased, dragging his nose along her exposed neck before biting down in the same spot again. “Just hurry the fuck up. I can’t keep it up much longer”.

Shoto barley heard the other two bickering, his ears ringing as he tried to keep himself from exploding. Her hand was so warm and tight around him, squeezing and rubbing in all the right places to have his heart slamming against his chest and his body tingling. He could barely stay focused enough to remember to move his fingers, rubbing hard and fast against her. They were all breathing heavily, their moans mixing together. Shoto could feel the heat building, his stomach muscles tightening as he got closer to the edge. He had been on the edge for so long now that if Y/N didn’t stop he wasn’t going to be able to hold it back.

“Scream for use” Katsuki growled, yanking her hips back against him as she thrust forward and sank his teeth into her neck. Y/N didn’t disappoint, her eyes wide and mouth hanging open as she called out Katsuki’s name, her body going taught as she came. She looked beautiful, caught in rapture and it was enough to send Shoto tumbling after her. Shoto arched off the wall, his shoulders digging into the hard stone, moaning loudly and gripping tightly at her hip, his fingers stilling against her. His vision went white, his fingers tingling as release finally found him.

Pulling his hand away from her Shoto curled it around her hip, holding her tightly as Katsuki slammed into her, losing his rhythm as he chased his own release. Y/N moaned, panting as Katsuki thrust a couple more time’s before stilling, groaning loudly as he came. Shoto felt the heat of Katsuki’s palm sparking as well as heard the crackling and pop, the blondes’ fingers curling against the wall.

They stood there for a few moments, leaning against one another and trying to even out their breathing and calm their racing hearts. Katsuki slipped his hand from Y/Ns hair, his fingers gently rubbing at her scalp and she hummed in pleasure. Katsuki was the first to pull away, the muscles in his arm rippling as he pushed himself away from the wall and slipped out of Y/N. As soon as he was far enough back Katsuki yanked the condom off and chucked it away, wasting no time tucking himself back into his pants and righting his uniform.

With a sigh Y/N stepped back, Shoto’s hands slipping off of her as she moved and he instantly missed the closeness. He set to sorting himself out, tucking his now soft dick back into his pants and tugging the zip up. Shoto groaned as Y/N lifted her cum covers hand to her lips, sucking and licking every trace of him off of her, his spent dick giving a valiant twitch at the sight. “You are disgusting” Katsuki growled, watching her with a frown as he zipped his trousers up and fastened his belt. She moaned loud and exaggerated around her fingers and Shoto let out a snort of laughter as he finished doing up his jump suit.

She popped her fingers from her mouth, turning so she could look at Katsuki. “Would you rather I wiped it on your face” she said in all seriousness, smirking widely and raising an eyebrow at him. Trying not to laugh as the blondes eyes widened in surprise for a second before he went back to scowling at the women, Shoto bent down, retrieving his belt and Katsuki’s glove from the floor. “Try it and I will kill you” Katsuki growled, snatching his glove from Shoto’s outstretched hand.

Y/N rolled her eyes as she turned back to Shoto, taking his belt from him and leaning forward to loop it around his waist. “Enjoy yourself?” She asked smugly, looking up at him through her lashes as she clipped the belt in place. “I did, though I get the feeling I was missing something” Shoto looked down at her expectantly, a small smile on his lips. Smirking she stepped back, shrugging her shoulders and waving her hand dismissively. “I had to try out some new quirk related tech and we were horny, didn’t think you would mind coming along for the ride”. As she spoke the dark alleyway around them shimmered and then seemed to snap out of existence.

They were nowhere near as far away from the street as Shoto had believed and the security light they were under wasn’t the only one dotted along the walls. Oh god, they had been so loud, so brazen about what they had been doing and anyone could have heard them, seen them. What if someone had? They were going to be over all the papers and most definitely getting fired for having sex not only in public but on duty.

His panic must have shown on his face because Y/N was speaking again, smiling reassuringly at him. “We’ve been working with the hero Mirage to help keep her allusions up whilst distracted and you two are the best distraction out there to test it with. Don’t worry no one saw or heard anything other than an empty alley and a few stray cats”. Shoto felt the tension ease, relieved that no one had been able to see anything. That did explain some of the things the other two had been saying.

Growling Katsuki wrapped his arms around Y/Ns waist, the women laughing as he lifting her up of the floor. “You’re a pretty good distraction yourself” he growled, placing her back on the floor and pressed a kiss against her cheek. Frowning Shoto crossed his arms. “So you misused someone else’s quirk for your own entertainment” he chided. She was getting paid a lot of money to do this job and these heroes were trusting her to help develop items to further their carrier, not to go around finding all the different ways she can apply their quirks to their sex lives.

Katsuki looked up from where he had been nuzzling at Y/Ns neck, scoffing and rolling his eyes. Y/N raised a delicate eyebrow at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t remember you complaining when I had that vibration quirk for the night”. Katsuki laughed as Shoto felt himself blushing. That had been different. It belonged to a pervert who told her to make use of it and try it whilst having sex because it felt amazing. They had the guy’s permission and he had been right. It had felt really good with her two fingers shoved inside of him as she swallowed him down. He had cum in a matter of minutes and screaming so loud that Katsuki had heard him when he got out of the lift on their floor of the apartment building they lived in.

Knowing she had won the argument Y/N turned in Katsuki’s arms, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I better go, let you two hard working heroes get back to work” she said reluctantly, pushing up on her toes to places a quick kiss on Katsuki’s lips. He growled into it, pulling her closer against him and it soon became heated, Katsuki’s mouth hungrily devouring her. When they pulled away Katsuki looked smug, stepping out of her arms and spinning her round to face Shoto.

She licked at her lips, placing her hands on Shoto’s shoulders to steady herself as she pushed up. He met her half way, their kiss soft and gentle as he cupped her cheek. When he pulled away her eyes fluttered open slowly with a gentle sigh and Shoto wanted to spend the rest of the night kissing her, slow and softly, savouring the feel of her lips against his. “Text me when you get in?” she whispered and Shoto nodded not trusting his voice not to break if he opened his mouth.

She stepped back from his hold, trying to put some distance between the three of them. “Right. Okay. See you later” she said quickly turning and running from the alley. As she went her outline shimmered then suddenly they were looking at a smiling Kirishima, waving at them enthusiastically. Katsuki growled, taking a step forward. “I told you to knock that shit off” he yelled angrily after her but Y/N just laughed louder, disappearing around the corner still looking like the redhead.

“Something the matter” Shoto asked casually, eyeing the blonde out the corner of his eyes. Katsuki groaned in annoyance, shoving his gloved hands into his pockets and glaring at the floor as if it had offended him. “It’s what she was fucking doing when I found you” he grumbled as he started to make his way back to the street. Shoto’s eyes widened in shock, mind scrambling as he tried to process what the other man had said and stumbling after him. “She was shitty hair and had you looking like fucking Denki”. Shoto blinked once before he burst into laughter.

Katsuki’s shoulders tensed, his jaw clenching as he ground his teeth together. “It’s not fucking funny asshole” he yelled and Shoto had to bite down on his lip to stifle his laughter. No wonder he had looked so angry when he turned up. “I’m never unseeing that shit” he grumbled, looking down at the floor as they stepped out into the street. They both looked back down the way they had come earlier before turning and heading down the other way, starting their loop to take them back to the agency in silence.

It was a comfortable silence even if Katsuki was still sulking, though Shoto could sympathise. He would probably be acting the same way if he had walked round a corner to find Tenya and Izuku making out. He shivered at just the thought but that didn’t change the fact that Katsuki was seeing his two friends in just a few days and Shoto couldn’t wait to see the horror on Katsuki’s face when they undoubtedly did something to remind him of what he had seen tonight. He would have to make sure to have his phone on hand to capture the moment in glorious high definition.

#bakugou x reader #ao3 fanfic #bakugou x todoroki #bnha fanfiction #mha #my hero academia #todoroki x reader #bakugou x reader x todoroki

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iam93percentstardust · 4 years ago

Text

Spirit Bright and Beautiful

Written for @starkbucksbingo and this means a bingo for me! See below the cut for bingo details

Also on ao3 here

He has a safe house.

Of sorts.

Not really a safe house. It’s an office space under construction, abandoned when the project ran out of money. Still, it’s safe and the important part is that it has a view of the tower and so James can see the Avengers when they’re coming and going. He can watch what they’re doing—not when they’re in the tower itself because the windows are tinted—but he can see when they leave and where they’re going. He never follows them, not with the Black Widow and the SHIELD agent on the team. But they don’t usually go far unless it’s a special event or a mission and if it’s a mission, James wouldn’t want to follow them anyway and if it’s a special event, he can usually watch it on the shitty TV he stole out of someone’s garbage.

James prides himself on being impossible to sneak up on. HYDRA’s training was good for that at least. So he hears the light steps coming up the stairs. He hears and he tenses because he doesn’t recognize those footsteps. He doubts it’s HYDRA—they’re usually heavier—and he doesn’t think it’s the Black Widow because he thinks he could count himself lucky if he actually heard her coming and she’s out on a mission right now anyway so that means it’s someone else.

Someone, who is apparently huffing and complaining about damn super soldiers who could do this without even breathing hard and—

A face with fluffy brown hair, big and warm eyes, and the most ridiculous beard James thinks he’s ever seen pokes its head around the corner.

“Freezer Pop?” the face asks and James suddenly recognizes it as belonging to Tony Stark, Iron Man, one of HYDRA’s do-not-engages long before he became a superhero. “Bucky Bear, you in here?”

He shouldn’t give away his position so easily. Then again, Stark is a friend of Steve’s and he remembers Steve. He’s not sure if he’s ready to see Steve again but he at least knows he’s a friend.

“What’s a freezer pop?” he asks, voice rusty from disuse. He emerges from behind one of the plastic sheets, flicking the switchblade he’d been holding closed. He doesn’t use guns anymore, can’t stand the sight of the things, and it’s not like he can’t defend himself with just a knife anyway.

Stark’s eyes dart to the knife, skitter away to take in the sight of the construction. “It’s a snack,” he begins and then stops, biting his lip to stop himself from saying anything else. James can’t help but wonder what he’d been planning on saying. “Is this where you’ve been staying? Cause I’ll be honest with you, this is…not great.”

James huffs out a laugh. “Better than the street,” he says and doesn’t say that he’s been on the street before.

Stark seems to hear it anyway though if the way his mouth twists is any indication. “It’s not like you’ve only got two options here,” he points out. “You could—”

“I don’t want to,” James interrupts, already feeling the panic creeping up on him. “I don’t—I could hurt—and Steve—”

He almost doesn’t see Stark move and his hand twitches for his knife before Stark stops only a few feet away from. The panic comes on fast and heavy then, overwhelming him. When did he sit down? When did he scramble backward from Stark sitting as well? When did—he tucks his head between his knees, screaming to drown out the static in his head.

He doesn’t know how long it takes him to become James again but when he raises his head again, he thinks the light has shifted. Stark is still sitting there though, still a few feet away, silently tapping on a tablet. He looks up when James uncurls from his ball, putting the tablet down beside him.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Stark says quietly. “I know I can be an asshole but I really didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I didn’t think you did,” he rasps.

“I know you’re not ready. And I don’t really blame you. But Steve and the Murder Twins are out on a mission for the next two months and Sam is still in D.C. and Bruce and Thor are at their love nest in Greece that they think I don’t know about.” He rolls his eyes and the corner of James’ mouth twitches in a smile. “I’m just worried about you.”

And that—that’s just—“No one asked you to worry about me,” he points out.

Stark nods. “I know. But you can’t stop me from doing it anyway so here, I wanted to give you this.” He slides the tablet across the floor, stopping only when it taps against James’ foot.

He picks it up slowly, reminding himself that Stark wouldn’t kill him, not with a tablet leastways. “What is it?”

“Videos, mostly,” Stark says with a deceptively casual shrug.

“Of what?”

“The team. J says you’ve been watching us for a while and he’s pretty sure that you’re looking to see if it’s safe to come in, which I doubt you can figure out from watching the outside so I brought you this so you can watch the inside too.” He frowns. “That came out wrong. Look, I’m scared of Natasha too so I don’t blame you so I just thought maybe you’d like video of her throwing cereal at Clint because he drank all the milk.”

He unfolds his legs and stands up. “I’ll leave you to it. Just to warn you though, I’m coming back tomorrow with dinner. Gotta do something while I’m benched.” He taps his side like James is supposed to know what that means and then disappears before James can ask him either about his ribs or about the mysterious J.

True to his word, Stark is back the next day with something in a large paper bag that smells so good it makes James’ mouth water. He’s been eating mostly day-old sandwiches from the sandwich shop next to the office building he’s staying in and frankly, he’s tired of it but he’s not willing to go any further than right next door.

“You watched any of it?” Stark asks him, tossing the bag into his lap.

James fishes out two containers of what looks like spaghetti and a smaller bag of breadsticks. He sticks one of the breadsticks in his mouth so that he can avoid saying something when he nods.

Stark gives him an amused looks and then waits for him to finish swallowing before saying, “What did you think?”

…He doesn’t know what to say to that.

He’s been watching and he’s seen what Stark had talked about with the Black Widow throwing cereal at Barton. And he’s seen Dr. Banner trip over the god’s hammer and not even turn a shade before yelling at him about leaving his things in the halls. And he’s even seen Stark and Steve cheerfully bickering with each other—and that’s barely even a fraction of the videos on the tablet he’d been given.

He sees all of this but it doesn’t really make sense in his mind at the moment. Where are the fights? The arguments? The full-on hatred that expresses itself in sneers and glares?

“It’s fine,” he mutters. “Looks nice.”

Stark frowns but he doesn’t press the issue. For that, James is grateful. He still doesn’t have all of his memories back but he’s pretty sure that if it were Steve standing here in front of him, he’d be a lot pushier about this. Stark, though, Stark just sits down next to him and chatters about how much it sucks that he cracked two ribs and so he can’t be on the mission with everyone else. He doesn’t mind that James doesn’t do anything but sit next to him and eat his spaghetti. He talks enough to fill the entire room on his own.

It’s kind of nice.

The thing is, the Avengers are apparently nothing like HYDRA. They actively seem to like and trust each other. Their playful ribbing is nothing more than silly banter. Their light touches are warm hugs and not backstabbing embraces. They have movie nights and game nights and morning yoga sessions and in between it all, they hang out together and laugh and talk and love.

The thing is, Tony is warm and cheerful and lovely. James can’t remember the last time he thought that about anything, let alone a person. But as Tony comes over every single evening with delicious food—never homecooked because he says he can’t be trusted around a kitchen—and talks about everything and nothing all at once, James finds himself relaxing more and more around him.

The thing is, Tony clearly loves the team, treats them like they’re his family. He buys them extravagant gifts and goes shopping with Natasha and helps Bruce with dinner preparations. He spends hours in front of the TV with Clint, throwing popcorn at the screen during trashy soap operas. He poses for Steve’s art and he never complains when Thor hugs him just a little too hard.

The things is—if Tony can just choose who his family is, then maybe James can too.

“The team comes back next week,” Tony tells him one night.

James nods slowly. He knows. He’s been keeping track of the days ever since that first night when Tony had told him they would be gone for two months. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, they should be back in five days.

“What do you think?” Tony asks. “You’ve seen the footage. You know what we’re like. You ready to come out of the cold yet?”

It’s quiet for a long time. James’ stomach growls, reminding him that even though he’d polished off the serving Tony had brought for him, he’s still hungry. He had been eyeing Tony’s food up until this question (truthfully, he’s still debating tugging it closer to him; Tony never minds) but he wants to think about this first.

Tony waits for him patiently, still doesn’t push. He loves that about him honestly. He’s thought before that he liked it but he thinks now that it might go deeper than that. His…feelings for Tony as a whole might go deeper than that. And if that’s really how he feels, then he thinks there’s not a whole lot he wouldn’t do for Tony.

“Maybe,” he says eventually, still turning the idea over in his mind. “’m still a little scared.”

Tony nods and stands, dusting his hands off on his jeans. The movement startles James, who was expecting that Tony would be there a little longer yet. Did he say something wrong? Did he make the wrong choice? Did he push Tony away finally.

But then Tony reaches out a hand, holding it out for James to take. “Come on, James darling,” Tony urges. “Come home with me.”

James doesn’t really know where home is anymore but, as he grabs Tony’s hand and lets him pull him up and guide him out of the room, he thinks it might be with Tony.

Title: Spirit Bright and Beautiful Collaborator Name: iam93percentstardust Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26044267 Square Filled: G1 - Chosen Family Ship/Main Pairing: Winteriron Rating: G Major Tags & Triggers: Panic attacks Word Count: 2k

#alle writes #winteriron #starkbucksbingo2020 #long post #if you like please consider reblogging

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themetaphorgirl · 4 years ago

Text

I asked for cute and cuddly things so I could write something adorable!! I tried to combine as many as possible!

@therestisconfettis : “the psolc babies making a pillow fort!!”

@birds-are-better-than-you : “My brain immediately goes to people actually listening to him talk instead of cutting him off, but thats just rooted in sadness”

@fragolinaa : “I just want people cuddling him, maybe someone who hasn't yet like Emily or Dave?”

@purpleturtle31extra : “Spending an off day exploring music together! Like showing him songs that remind you of him or a certain memory..”

anonymous: “cute cuddly idea: u mentioned Emily and Dave getting Spencer legos. Write a little thing of a rainy day or whatever and everyone’s just chilling building random shit with legos and then there’s gonna be Spencer actually building something with proper ratios and actual potential urban planning and everyone else is just like “hmm... I have built something vaguely resembling a plane”

anonymous: “omg cuddly mom alex?? maybe spencer napping with her and he has a nightmare??”

I hope I touched on everything!! I think I captured at least a little bit of everything!!!

----------

“Hey,” Emily said. “Are you feeling okay?”

Spencer dragged his fork around his plate, his chin resting heavily in his hand. “I’m not hungry,” he said dully.

“This is your last day to eat whatever you want,” she pointed out. “Go get something sugary. Donuts or something.”

He shrugged, and she bit back a sigh. Everyone else had left on Wednesday afternoon to spend Thanksgiving break with their respective families- literally everyone, even Hotch- and while they’d had a nice Thanksgiving at James’s house, and she was enjoying having her room all to herself, she and Spencer had been left behind, and the kid was moping like it was his job. She was starting to figure out that while he liked doing things on his own, he needed the security of knowing that everyone else was nearby.

“I guess I’ll go get some chocolate milk or something,” Spencer sighed, sliding down from his chair.

“See? There you go,” she said. “Treat yourself.”

As soon as he slid down from his chair and trudged away she pulled out her phone.

the cause of hotchner’s headaches

9:09am

You guys need to help w the kid hes so sad i dont know what to do

James texted back first, which didn’t surprise her.

doctor james, medicine man

9:10am

Is he okay?

the cause of hotchner’s headaches

9:10am

HES SAD I CANT HANDLE IT COME HELP ME

spaghetti grandpa

9:11am

He’ll be fine. He knows everybodys coming back today right?

the cause of hotchner’s headaches

9:12am

HE IS SAD NOW COME OVER

She set her phone aside as Spencer walked back up to the table with a carton of chocolate milk in his hands. “Can you open this for me, please?” he asked.

She did and handed it back, but he didn’t drink it. “How about we go watch a movie or something?” she suggested. “While we’re waiting for everybody to get back on campus. That’ll be fun, right?”

He shrugged. “I guess,” he said. “What time is it?”

“A little after nine.”

He scrunched up his face, calculating. “Who do you think will be back first?” he asked.

“I don’t know, babe, we’ll have to see,” she said. “Drink your milk and we’ll get out of here.”

He sighed. “I don’t think I want it anymore,” he said. She shot him her best impression of Alex’s mom look. He rolled his eyes, but he drank it anyway.

Outside the dining hall it was cold and gray and dreary, rain falling just steadily enough to be irritating. She pulled the hood of her jacket over her head and made Spencer put his purple galaxy-print raincoat on over his his sweater before they walked down the steps.

“Do you think the weather will ground planes?” he asked anxiously.

“Your guess is as good as mine, squirt,” she said. “It’ll definitely rain all day, but I don’t know if it’ll affect planes. You’ll probably know better than me.”

He said nothing, but he slipped his small hand into hers. She squeezed back gently. The kid had been perfectly well-behaved the whole time she’d been left to watch him, but it was frustrating to see him so sad and quiet and droopy. She didn’t think it was possible to be homesick for other people, but Spencer definitely had a bad case of it.

They settled in the common room, but the cozy space seemed cavernous and empty without the rest of the group. Spencer left his coat and his shoes in his room and settled into Alex’s usual spot on the couch, leaning on the armrest.

“So what do you want to do, kiddo?” she said. He raised and lowered one shoulder. She huffed. “I’ll just pick something then.”

“Nothing scary, please,” he said, his chin resting on his folded arms.

“No, don’t worry, I learned my lesson,” she said. She grabbed a Star Wars off the shelf- she wasn’t sure which one it was, but she figured she couldn’t go wrong with something sci fi.

“Hotch’s plane lands at eleven, right?” he said as she plunked down on the opposite end of the couch.

“I think so,” she said. She reached over and ruffled his hair lightly. “Stop overthinking, you’re going to blow a fuse in there. Everyone will be home soon, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worried,” he mumbled.

They got about halfway through Star Wars (she still wasn’t entirely sure which one it was) when they heard Dave and James on the stairs. “Hey, guys!” Dave called. “We’ve got presents!”

Emily paused the movie. “What do you mean, presents?” she said. “What’d you bring me?”

James and Dave each held large plastic tubs that they dropped with heavy clatters on the floor. “Spencer, you’ve been having fun with the legos we got you for your birthday, right?” James said.

Spencer raised his head. “Yeah,” he said slowly.

“Well, we decided to dig around for our old lego collections you can have your own giant collection,” Dave said.

He slid off the couch. “Really?” he said.

“Yeah, absolutely,” James said. “Go get yours, we’ll put them all together.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up. “Okay!” he said, darting off to his room.

“Oh my god, thank goodness you two are here,” Emily said.

“You know, you said he was sad, and I didn’t believe it till I saw him,” Dave said, wrenching the lid off the first bin. “He looks like a deflated balloon.”

“See? I wasn’t lying,” Emily said. “Poor kid has been moping all week.”

James checked his phone. “Hopefully everybody will get in without any problems,” he said. “Alex texted me a little bit ago and said they delayed her flight by an hour.”

“Oh, yikes,” Emily said. “She’d better get back here soon. And don’t tell the kid that, he’ll worry more.”

Spencer ran back into the room with his legos. “How should I organize them?” he asked. “Color first or size first?”

“How about we, you know, build something?” Dave suggested as he sat down on the couch. “C’mere, passerotto, I think I have all the pieces to the batcave.”

“Ooh, which version?” James asked as Spencer sat down on the floor in front of Dave.

“I don’t know. I think I built it once when I was Spencer’s age and then never touched it again.”

Emily leaned over James and scooped up a handful of plastic pieces. “What are you going to build?” she asked.

“Hey, don’t copy me!”

They worked on their projects mostly in companionable silence, sometimes absent chatter. Rain continued to tap at the windows. At least Spencer seemed distracted at last, focused on his projects.

Lightning cracked, white light shining through the window for a brief moment, and everyone jumped; Spencer knocked over one of his structures. “Holy shit,” Emily said. “That was terrifying.”

“You okay?” Dave asked, touching Spencer’s arm lightly.

He nodded, leaning against Dave until he lifted him onto his lap. “Do you think everybody’s okay?” he asked. “Planes can’t always fly in this sort of weather.”

“I’m sure everybody’s fine,” Dave reassured him. Spencer bit his lip, still staring out the window. “So what have you been building?”

“Scale model of campus,” he said. “Well, it’s not exactly to scale. But it’s pretty close.”

James held up a lump of legos. “This was supposed to be a plane,” he said. “But it doesn’t look particularly aerodynamic.”

Spencer laughed. “What kind of plane is it supposed to be?” he asked. “It looks like an off-kilter Cessna.”

“I don’t know. Just...a plane,” James said.

“I’m trying to see how tall I can build this thing without it falling over,” Emily said. “Not much success yet.”

“I’m sure you know, caro,” Dave said, poking Spencer lightly in the side. “How tall is the tallest lego structure ever?”

“The tallest one is in Milan, it’s a hundred and fourteen feet, eleven inches tall,” he said. “The previous tallest was just a hundred and fourteen feet tall, in Budapest.”

“Milan, hm?” Dave said. “Maybe I’ll go see it next time I’m over there.”

“There’s one in Tel Aviv that was built to be four feet taller but-”

Lightning cracked again and Spencer jumped. Dave rubbed his back lightly. “It’s okay, it’s just a bad storm,” he said. It was too late, though- the attempts at distraction had failed, and Spencer was clearly back to worrying, the corners of his mouth tugging down.

Dave looked over at Emily. What should we do? he mouthed. She shrugged helplessly.

Thankfully, right at that moment heavy footsteps echoed on the stairs. Spencer raised his head. Please let it be one of our group, please let it be one of our group, Emily thought fervently.

A tall figure in a rain-soaked coat made it to the top of the stairs, almost terrifying for a split second, but he threw back his hood and shook his head. “Jesus, that was a nightmare,” he said.

Spencer scrambled to his feet and ran towards him, nearly kicking Dave in his haste. “Hotch!” he shrieked, throwing his arms around his waist.

“Hey, kiddo!” Hotch said, bending to hug him. “Hey, careful, it’s raining really hard out there, I’m drenched and I don’t want you to get wet.”

“How was your flight?” James asked.

Spencer, undeterred, still clung to Hotch; Hotch ran his fingers through his thick short curls. “Unbelievably shitty,” he said. “Flights were getting canceled left and right, it’s just storming bad everywhere. If I hadn’t gotten such an early flight, I might not’ve made it back.”

“That’s what we’ve been worrying about,” Emily said. “And when I say we I mean Spencer.”

Hotch tugged him back so he could see his face. “Hey, stop worrying,” he said. “Everybody will get back eventually. I promise.”

“I can’t help worrying,” Spencer said. “What if everybody’s flights get delayed? What if something happens to their planes. What if-”

Hotch scooped him up. “Hey, I think the dining hall’s open for lunch,” he said. “Anybody else hungry? I didn’t have time for breakfast before my flight and all they gave me was one packet of pretzels.”

“They stopped giving away peanuts because of allergies becoming more common,” Spencer said, leaning his cheek against Hotch’s shoulder even though his coat was soaked with rain.

“Yeah?” Hotch said. “How about you go get your coat and your shoes, okay? I’m starving.”

“Okay,” Spencer said reluctantly. Hotch set him back down on his feet and he ran down the hall to his room.

“I am so glad you’re back, Hotchner,” Emily said, sweeping her lego tower back into the bin. “He’s been so sad with everybody gone.”

“I can tell,” he said. “Has he been like this the whole time?”

“Oh, yeah,” Emily said. “I’ve barely been able to get two words out of him.”

“Even when they came over for Thanksgiving he wasn’t talking much,” James added.

Hotch sighed. “I didn’t even think about this,” he said. “Poor kid.”

Emily’s phone buzzed. “Oh, it’s Penelope,” she said. “I’ll put her on speaker. Hey, Pen, how’s it going?”

“Terrible!” Penelope said, her voice crackling over the line. “I made the flight from California to Texas for my layover, but they canceled my connecting flight. It’s storming too bad.”

“Oh, yikes,” Dave said. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she sighed. “They have me booked for a flight first thing in the morning, and the airline is putting me up in a hotel for the night, but it’s so frustrating.”

“I’m sure,” James said. “Stay safe, okay? Do you need anything?”

“Are you kidding? The hotel has like a million channels and room service, I’m doing great!” Penelope said. “I’ll call you guys in the morning before my flight, okay? Talk to you soon!”

Emily sighed as the call ended. “Well, that’s one down,” she said.

“Penelope’s not coming?”

Spencer peeked out of the hall, his rainboots on and his coat dragging from his hand. “Yeah, her connecting flight got canceled,” Dave said. “But she’s safe, and she’ll be on a flight tomorrow, okay? So don’t worry.”

Judging by the way he pressed his mouth together, he definitely was worried. Emily pushed herself up from the floor. “Let’s go get lunch, okay?” she said. “Before Hotch starves.”

The rain had gotten decidedly worse, coming down in heavy sheets and flooding patches of the courtyard. Her umbrella helped a little but not much; Dave complained loudly the entire walk over. Spencer stayed glued to Hotch’s side, clinging tightly to his hand even once they made it to the warm safety of the dining hall.

Hotch pulled Spencer’s hood down as they got in line. “What do you want?” he asked.

“I’m not hungry,” he said.

He frowned, then covered Spencer’s ears. “Emily, be honest,” he said. “Did he eat while we were gone?”

“Not for lack of trying,” she said. “I kept putting shit on his plate and he barely touched it.”

“Did he just eat ice cream and candy?”

“He didn’t even want sweets. Or coffee, even.”

Hotch’s frown deepened. “Well, shit,” he said. He dropped his hands to Spencer’s shoulders. “Okay, kid, you have to eat something. If you don’t pick, I’ll pick for you.”

Spencer shrugged. “That’s fine,” he said.

Hotch met Emily’s gaze, eyebrows raised. “I told you,” she said.

She followed Hotch down the cafeteria line as he filled up two plates. Spencer stayed so close he ran the risk of getting stepped on, his small hand clinging to the hem of Hotch’s jacket.

Dave and James had beaten them to their usual table, and neither of them looked particularly happy. “Bad news,” James said. “JJ just called. Her parents rescheduled her flight. They were worried about the storms, so she’ll be here tomorrow afternoon.”

Emily glanced over at Spencer. “But she’s okay?” he said anxiously.

“She’s fine, caro,” Dave said. “And she’ll be here tomorrow.”

“What about Derek and Alex?” he asked. “Have they called? Or texted.”

“Not yet,” James said. “Maybe they’re already on their flights, though. I”m sure we’ll hear from them soon.”

Hotch set the tray down on the table, then picked Spencer up and set him down in his chair. “They’ll be fine,” he said. “So how did Thanksgiving go for you guys?”

Even with their attempts at changing the subject and trying to draw him into the conversation, Spencer seemed to sink further into himself, his legs tucked up under him and his chin resting in his hand, his plate still mostly untouched. Emily couldn’t blame him for being sad. All week it had been just the two of them in the nearly-deserted dining hall, and even with the boys there it seemed wrong without the rest of the group- Penelope shrieking about something that didn’t need to be shrieked about, Derek regaling them with stories from football practice, JJ’s pretty laugh bubbling over, Alex keeping the peace and stopping cups and plates from getting knocked over and tilted onto the ground.

Hotch didn’t make much headway getting Spencer to eat, but at least he ate a little bit, and their little group braved the storm to get back to Lincoln House. “What have you guys been up to?” he asked as they settled in the common room again, coats and umbrellas hung up to dry.

“Legos,” James said. “This was supposed to be a plane.”

Hotch laughed. “Yikes,” he said. “I’m glad you’re not planning on going into engineering.”

“Yeah, probably for the best,” he said ruefully. “I-”

“Hold on, hold on,” Dave interrupted. “Did you guys see the group chat?”

Emily fumbled for her phone. “No, I didn’t, I...oh.”

“What’s wrong?” Hotch asked.

“Derek’s flight got canceled too,” James said. “He says it got delayed and he sat on the tarmac for three hours, but they pulled everybody off the plane. His mom’s already picked him up, so he’s fine.”

Emily glanced over at Spencer. He curled himself up smaller, his knees tucked up to his chest, chewing on his thumbnail. “But he’ll be here tomorrow?” he said.

“Yeah, he’ll be here tomorrow,” Dave reassured him.

Spencer lifted his head. “Can we call Alex?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah, of course,” Emily said, immediately pulling Alex’s contact info on the screen. “Here, kiddo. Just press-”

Lightning cracked, and with a sharp pop the common room went dark.

“Holy shit!” Emily shrieked, the phone falling from her hand.

“Did a fuse blow?” Dave said.

James got up and looked out the window. “Well, judging by the other buildings on campus...I think the power’s out everywhere,” he said.

“Well, fuck,” Hotch said.

Emily raised an eyebrow. “Watch your language!” she said in mock horror.

“Oh, shut up,” Hotch said good-naturedly. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to wait for the power to come back on. Spencer, do you want to go ahead and call Alex? She’ll probably be glad to miss the power outage.”

“I think the tower’s down too,” Spencer said in a small voice. “There’s no signal.” He held the phone back out to Emily. “Thanks anyway.”

She reached for the phone, and as the lock screen flickered she caught the faint mark of tears on his cheek. “Oh, no,” she said. “Oh, fuck. Spencer, don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying,” he said, but there was a distinct wobble in his voice.

“Spencer, it’s going to be okay,” Hotch said. “The power’s going to come back on, and everyone will be home soon.”

It was too dark to see, but she could hear Spencer sniffling in a valiant effort to keep form crying. “I know,” he said. “But I-”

Hotch picked Spencer up and placed him in Emily’s lap. “Stay here with Em for a second,” he said. “James, Dave, come with me.”

Spencer dropped his head against Emily’s collarbone as she wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t be sorry,” she said. “It’s been a rough week, dude. You didn’t get to go home and see your family, and you miss everybody. And you’re worried because of the storms. It makes sense.” She kissed the top of his head. “And now we’ve got all this power outage shit. But it’ll be okay.”

Hotch dumped an armload of stuff onto the nearest armchair. “Thank goodness for Penelope’s illegal candle stash,” he said.

Emily twined one of Spencer’s short curls around her finger. “What’s with all of the pillows and blankets?” she asked.

In the dim light she could see Hotch grin. “We’re going to make a blanket fort,” he said. “C’mere, Spencer, I could use your brain for this.”

Emily set Spencer on his feet as James and Dave brought in their collections of pillows and blankets. She busied herself lighting candles and placing them in safe places around the room as Spencer directed the older boys in their construction. He seemed to perk up a little bit with something to focus on, especially as they let him be in charge.

“Okay, I’ve made some blanket forts in my day, but this one is pretty cool,” James said.

“That’s because Penelope has about eight million blankets and they’re all soft as baby puppies,” Emily said as she crawled into the fort. “I claim the blue pillow!”

All five of them fit comfortably inside, the interior lit with a string of battery operated fairy lights, also taken from Penelope’s room. Spencer nestled himself between Hotch and Emily. “Are we going to tell Penelope that we borrowed all of her stuff?” he asked.

Hotch handed him his favorite blanket. “I think if we leave the fort up till she gets back, she won’t mind as long as she gets to hang out in here,” he said.

“What should we do?” Dave asked. “Power’s still out, and there’s no wifi either.”

“Oh!” Emily said. “Okay, I’ve been trying to get you to listen to this album for weeks. Now is the perfect time! You’re a captive audience.”

They took turns passing each other’s phones back and forth, listening to different songs in the comfort of the handmade blanket fort, playfully arguing over each other’s tastes in music as the warm glow of the fairy lights cast soft shadows. Spencer seemed a little less tense now, snuggled safely between Hotch and Emily with his blanket hugged to his chest.

She hadn’t kept track of time, but it was at least two hours before the power switched back on, the overhead lights suddenly way too bright after the dimmness of the tent. “There we go,” Dave said, sitting up and checking his phone. “And we’ve got signal again!” He stretched his arm over James and Emily to hold out the phone to Spencer. “Here, passerotto, see if you can call Alex.”

He took it eagerly and tapped at the screen to bring up her info, but his excitement faded almost instantly. “It went right to voicemail,” he said. “Thanks anyway.”

James scrambled ungracefully to his feet. “Hey, since the power’s back, who wants to watch a movie?” he said.

“Not a Star War, please,” Emily called. “I can’t tell any of them apart.”

Hotch propped himself up on his elbow. “Hey, Spence,” he said. “It’s okay. I’m sure Alex is fine.”

“Yeah,” Spencer said. He turned to Hotch, one corner of his mouth tugging up in a rueful little half smile. “I bet her flight got canceled too. It’s okay.”

James flipped the overhead lights off, leaving them back in the glow of the candles and the string lights, and crawled back into the fort with the remote in his hand. “All right, if anyone has objections, y’all can get up yourself and change it,” he said.

Emily settled back as the movie started. Spencer was quiet beside her, but after a while he rolled over onto his stomach, his forehead pressed against Hotch’s arm and his blanket tangled around his legs, and she smiled when she heard his first little snore.

“Hotchner,” she whispered. “This blanket fort idea was genius.”

Hotch grinned. “Sean made me make one for him while I was home,” he said. “I figured Spencer might like it too.” He paused. “Is he asleep?” Emily nodded. “Thank god.”

James sat up and pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Guys, I still haven’t heard from Alex,” he said. “It’s still going right to voicemail when I call her and she hasn’t answered any texts.”

“Maybe her signal’s out too,” Dave said. “Don’t worry about it. Alex can take care of herself.”

James pouted. “Yeah, but...I might be a little worried about her,” he said. “It’s not like her to not answer.”

“Awww, you miss your girlfriend,” Emily teased.

“I do! I do miss her!” James said.

“Guys, if any of you wake up Spencer, I will murder you,” Hotch hissed.

“I’m sorry!” James whispered back. “I just- I think I need to be worried about Alex.”

Suddenly a familiar person knelt down and leaned into the tent. “You’re worried about me?” Alex said, her long red hair hanging loose around her shoulders. “That’s so sweet!”

James scrambled up, smacking Dave in the face in his haste. “Oh my god, I missed you!” he said. He tugged her closer, cupping her face in his hands, and kissed her deeply. “Oh my god. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she laughed, running her fingers through his hair. “My phone died and I didn’t pack any of my portable chargers in my carryon. Where’s everybody else?”

“Everybody’s flights are delayed,” Emily said. “Spencer’s been beside himself.”

“Oh, poor thing,” she said. “Is he sleeping? I don’t want to wake him up.”

“Yeah, he just dozed off,” Hotch said. “He’s going to be so relieved to see you.”

Emily scooted over to make room. “C’mere, the movie hasn’t been on for very long,” she said.

“Hey!” James protested. “She’s my girlfriend, shouldn’t she be next to me?”

“Well, she’s my roommate, and I’ve had her for longer,” Emily said. Alex laughed as she settled between her and Spencer, busying herself with snuggling him against her side and tucking him in. Emily leaned over to whisper in James’s ear. “Besides, we all know you two are gonna go fool around the second you get a chance. You’ll get your quality time, don’t worry.”

Even in the dim light she could see him turn red. “What are you guys whispering about?” Alex asked.

“Nothing!” James squeaked. Emily made a rude hand gesture and he smacked her arm. “Emily! Stop it!”

She snickered as she leaned her head against Alex’s shoulder. “How was your week being in charge?” Alex asked as she adjusted Spencer’s blanket around him.

“Could have been worse...could have been a lot better,” Emily said. “He was so sad. I’m not good with sad kids.”

“I’m sure you did great,” Alex reassured her.

The movie was almost over when Spencer began to shift and whimper in his sleep. “Is he okay?” Emily asked.

“He’s-” Hotch winced as Spencer kicked him in the shins. “Ow. Bad dream, I think.”

Alex sat up. “Okay, I’m going to wake him up,” she said.

“Careful, he can be pretty feisty,” Hotch warned.

Alex stroked his hair back from his forehead as he tried to pull away from her. “Spencer, wake up,” she called gently, her hand resting on his chest. “Come on, darling.”

She kept coaxing him until his eyes finally opened. “What’s going on?” he mumbled.

“You had a bad dream,” she said.

He blinked. “Alex?” he said sleepily. “Did your plane land safely?”

Hotch laughed. “Yeah, kiddo, her plane landed safely,” he said. “Get the sleep out of your eyes.”

Spencer rubbed his face and blinked again. “Alex!” he yelped, throwing himself into her arms.

“Hi, baby,” she said. “Did you miss me?”

“A little bit,” he said, tilting his face so she could kiss his cheek. “Was your flight okay? Was there a lot of turbulence?”

“Everything was fine,” she reassured him as she cuddled him against her side. “Now, sh, I think Dave is getting invested in the movie.”

“No, I’m not,” he said absently.

“Yes, he is,” Emily teased.

Spencer settled down with his head on Alex’s knees; Hotch tugged his blanket around him. “Everybody else will be here tomorrow,” he said. “Penelope’s connecting flight got canceled, and Derek’s got canceled, and JJ’s parents rescheduled her.”

“That’s good,” she said, stroking her fingers through his hair. “Go back to sleep, darling. You look so tired. And everything’s going to be okay, nothing to worry about.”

The rain had settled back into a light tapping on the window; the thunder and lightning had long since stopped. Emily leaned back against her pillows, smiling in contented relief. Alex was right. Everything was going to be okay.

#au: patron saint of lost causes #caitlin writes things #emily prentiss #alex blake #alex miller #aaron hotchner #hotch #dave rossi #james blake #spencer reid

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lovelivingmydreams · 4 years ago

Text

A new normal

Trust is so difficult to earn, and so easy to loose. Such a shame that you only realize just what you have when you loose it.

Nemesis enters the room. “There is no escape!” he exclaims menacingly.

Meanwhile the prince is crouched down on the floor scratching a dog’s belly.

"Who's a good guard dog? You are," he coos.

Nemesis stares on in astonishment. "How did you... he doesn’t even like my minions!?"

Prince looks up and then grins down at the dog. “Oh my goodness! I’m special!”

Nemesis readies a spell. “Give me back my dog!” he commands. Prince looks up, realizing he’s crossed a line and screams prompting nemesis to let out his battle cry.

Roman arrived in the commons one sunny august afternoon to find Virgil leaning against the counter smirking at Patton who looked a bit puzzled.

“What seems to be the matter?” he inquired. Things had been tense since Virgil learned of Deceit’s warning. He had told Roman that Logan and Patton couldn’t tell him even if they wanted to.

Which was proof enough, if Roman had needed any, that Virgil still cared about the others and wanted him to have a good relationship with them. Even if his own trust in them had been chattered.

Roman had managed to get Virgil to still have dinner with them on most nights on the condition that he never let him be the last to leave and that he would stop Patton and Logan from trying to get him to join meals when he didn’t come out on his own.

It wasn’t a total victory since Virgil just ate his dinner in silence, scowling at anyone who tried to engage him in conversation. But still, it was better than Virgil locking himself in his room except to collect something to eat from the kitchen.

Virgil had gotten back in the habit of intimidating the others into respecting him. Which would seem to be what was happening right now.

“Pops here is having a dilemma. He wants to scold me, but he is stuck on the fact that I made a pun,” Virgil smirked amused. Leaning his head to the side as if curious to see what Patton would do next.

Roman focused for a moment and once he saw what Virgil had said to Thomas he couldn’t help a snicker. ‘Stress this out’. He knew Virgil hadn’t truly meant it in a mean way. He could tell from Thomas’ memory of the way he’d laughed. Virgil had genuinely thought it was a funny joke.

And it was. Later, once Roman and the others had calmed his nerves about the tour, Thomas might think so too. But right now…

“As clever as the word play was anxiety, it was not very helpful,” he offered. “Come on Patton, let’s address all these concerns with Thomas alright?” he suggested.

“And Anxiety, when we get back, I have an idea for another vine I want to talk over with you. Just so you know I’ll be looking for you soon.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and started walking up the stairs. “Lucky me,” he grumbled sarcastically.

Roman shook his head. And Virgil called him overly dramatic.

“He’s doing it again,” Patton observed when they heard Virgil’s door fall shut.

“Yes, well. He’s always extra broody when a big project is coming up. And the tour is by far our most magnificent adventure yet,” Roman reasoned.

“Not that… I mean letting you close while pushing us away,” Patton observed.

Roman was not sure how to respond to that. Patton luckily assumed his hesitance meant confusion.

“Logan and I aren’t allowed to even talk to him lately it seems. But you… He’s not polite or friendly, but he lets you talk to him. He is willing to work with you… Why?”

Roman thought about that for a moment, unsure how to explain why Virgil was pushing the others away.

Luckily Logan had arrived and heard Patton’s question.

“If I may…” Both Patton and Roman jumped, they had not heard Logan enter.

“My apologies, I suspect Anxiety’s departure has masked my arrival. I did not mean to startle you,” he offered gently.

“To answer your question Patton. I suspect this is due to the fact that Roman was not aware of Deceit's warning and has not started treating him different since being clued in. He is assured that Roman’s attitude towards him, good or bad, is genuine. He might prefer that over potentially false hospitality or friendship from either of us. Due to last month’s revelations, what little trust we managed to build with him has been broken. And rebuilding it will be hard.”

Roman cocked his head curiously. “Aren’t you going to say that now that you guys know that Thomas isn’t really in danger if Anxiety doesn’t feel at home here there's no point in that anyway?” he wondered. Logan wasn’t cruel, he was practical. Roman would expect him to just take Virgil’s behavior at face value, conclude that he wanted to be alone and leave him be.

“A few months ago, I might have… But I have grown to appreciate Anxiety’s presence at the table… From before the reveal I mean.” That warmed Roman’s heart. Logan had gotten a soft spot for Virgil.

“Any way I could help then?” Roman offered. As far as those two were concerned he was still mostly doing this to make them happy. His interactions with Virgil were, as far as the others were concerned, strictly professional.

“That’s really sweet Roman, but if what Logan says is true, then Anxiety will only push you away as well if he thinks you are acting on our behalf,” Patton said.

“Indeed. Your progress with Anxiety is beyond remarkable. And while it is appreciated that you want to let us share in the figurative fruits of your success, it is not worth it to risk you losing his tolerance as well.”

Roman didn’t miss that Logan said ‘tolerance’, not ‘trust’ that time. Oh, well. It just meant that he was still successful in keeping his promise.

“Very well. Now. Let’s assist Thomas!” he declared as he lead the way to the outside world.

When Roman got back he found Virgil just lounging on his bed. “Oh no please, make yourself at home.”

Virgil grinned as he stretched himself out. “Thanks. I will.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to put on the act with me remember?” he asked as he sat down next to him on the bed. “Are you alright?” he asked gently.

Virgil was silent for a moment before letting out a long sigh as he got up. He rubbed his eyes. “Exhausted. I can’t wait until the tour is over,” he muttered.

“Your effort is appreciated,” Roman assured him.

“It’s whatever Princey,” Virgil assured him with a dismissive wave before stilling his hand palm up. “Just show me that idea you had.”

Roman jumped up eagerly and rushed to his desk, making Virgil chuckle.

Prince is dashing through fields and forests. “Darling!” he calls out worriedly.

“Darling where are you?”

Suddenly he comes to a stop.

Nemesis is backed against a tree, a snow white cat is mewling and pressing up against his legs, asking for attention.

“Get your monster away from me!” He demands.

@moonlightshow00 @naturallyunstablegamer @alias290 @meowthefluffy @frida0043 @angelic-cali @riverdoesbadart @vpow @apinkline2715 @tired-yeetling @firegirl156 @soysaucevictim @selenechris

Prince squeals as nemesis lets out a frustrated scream.

Next: Adjusting

The last vine idea is inspired by a suggestion from moonlightshow00 asks about this story are still welcome. Ideas for vine shenanigans, if you want to share thoughts with or about the characters, or maybe some fun ideas about what the Fanders might be up to in this au. Feel free to share your thoughts I love hearing from you.

#sanders sides #ts sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #prinxiety #paper flowers au

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litwitlady · 4 years ago

Text

5+1

Five times Michael kisses Alex, and one time Alex kisses Michael.

They have been arguing for half an hour. Michael upset that Alex has been avoiding him. Alex upset that Michael no longer loves him – even though he hasn’t admitted that part yet.

When the rain starts, Alex turns to head home. They are getting nowhere, and he doesn’t want to get soaked. ‘Goodbye, Michael.’

‘Wait, Alex.’ Michael grabs his arm as the rain starts to fall in earnest. ‘What’s wrong? And the truth this time. Then you can run home.’

Anger flares in Alex’s chest. ‘What’s wrong, Guerin, is how easily you stopped loving me. It was just ‘you’re not good for me’. And then, poof! I was suddenly so much nothing. How did you do it? Please, because I’m having a really fucking hard time returning the favor.’

His tears mingle with the rain as Michael stares at him open-mouthed and clearly confused. Maybe a touch hurt.

‘What? Alex, no.’ Michael reaches for him again, but Alex dodges. They are both soaked now, hair plastered to their foreheads. Michael follows Alex to his car door. ‘Please. That’s not what happened.’

‘Yes, Michael. To me, that’s what happened. So just, leave me alone.’ His hands go to his pockets for his keys but come up empty. ‘Fuck. My keys are back at the Crashdown.’

‘Stay here. I’ll go get them.’ He runs off before Alex can stop him.

It’s raining so hard the storm drains are starting to backup. Small rivers flow along the curbs, splashing over sidewalks. The temperature has dropped. And Alex is starting to shiver beneath his soggy clothes. He wants to go home and shower this day away.

By the time Michael returns, he’s hugging himself and rubbing his hands up and down his arms – teeth practically chattering. Michael hands him his keys, wallet, and phone – but grabs his wrist before he can pull away. Warmth immediately surges through Alex’s body. Melting away the freezing rain.

‘I love you, Alex. And I never stopped. Not once. Not even for a second.’ He moves to open Alex’s car door. ‘I’m sorry I made you feel otherwise.’

Alex runs his thumb over his key fob. But can’t bring himself to push the unlock button. ‘Well, you were very convincing.’ He guesses the storm has washed away all his anger. Or maybe he’s just exhausted.

‘Years of practice.’ Michael half-smiles and motions to the door. ‘You’re cold. You should go and get warm.’

Alex doesn’t move. ‘I am cold. But I want you to warm me up.’

They stand staring at each other. Thunder clapping overhead. Michael takes a step forward and then another. The gap between them shrinking quickly. And then his hands are on Alex’s chest, walking him slowly back against the Explorer.

Michael moves his hands up to Alex’s neck, presses their hips together. And everything locks back into place. Their bodies curving into each other like that’s what they were made to do.

Alex runs his cool, damp hands under Michael’s shirt. Not caring that they are in public. And Michael shivers. His thumbs reach Michael’s nipples and that’s when Michael attacks. Moaning into Alex’s mouth, sucking and licking along his bottom lip until Alex opens for him.

If possible, the rain falls even harder as they kiss desperately, bodies fused together against the Explorer. Kyle spots them and stops briefly, lifting an umbrella over their heads, before laughing and running off. Alex and Michael do not notice.

Two weeks later, Michael and Isobel are at the Pony. Tucked away in a back booth. Isobel is trying to discuss the Max and Liz situation, but Michael is distracted. Alex is at the bar laughing with Maria. More than once, something in Alex’s left ear has caught the dim bar lights overhead. Michael suspects he knows why and welcomes the heat that flares in his belly.

‘Michael, are you listening? We’re practically in crisis here and you can’t pull your eyes away from Alex for two fucking seconds.’ She throws a slice of lemon into this hair and he just leaves it there. Too distracted to care.

Isobel gives up. Goes back to drinking her beer and plotting ways to get her dumb brother back together with the love of his life. One down, one to go. Then she can focus on herself.

Alex turns around and spots Michael immediately. Grins. Waves goodbye to Maria and heads over to their booth. With every step, Michael gets more and more excited.

As Alex slides into the booth next to him, Michael’s hand goes to his ear and discovers the small, gold hoop. Fingers giving his ear a little tug. ‘When did this happen?’

‘Last night. Liz and Maria helped. Doesn’t even hurt. Do you like it?’

Michael answers by kissing his earlobe. Licking up the shell of his ear and whispering. ‘I think it’s really fucking hot. Forgot how much I’d missed it.’

Isobel groans dramatically. ‘Is this what the rest of my life is going to be like? Watching you two lick at each other like feral animals?’

Alex goes to say he’s sorry, but Michael shooshes him with a kiss.

‘Really, Michael?’ Isobel whines.

Michael reaches back blindly for his hat, uses it to hide their very enthusiastic making out from his sister. She huffs a laugh and kicks him under the table. ‘I will have my revenge.’

‘Wait. Why is there a lemon in your hair?’ Michael puts his hat on his head and takes the lemon slice from Alex, throws it back at Isobel. Starts to nudge Alex out of the booth.

‘Enjoy babysitting Max, Iz. I’ve got better things to do.’ He winks down at her.

Alex grabs Michael’s hand starts pulling him towards the door. ‘He means me.’

Isobel flicks them off as they leave the bar laughing.

Six months fly by and Michael moves in with Alex. Max comes over to help Michael build out Alex’s closet – well, their closet now. Alex is busy working on a coding project for work and leaves them to it.

Lunch time rolls around and they’ve worked up an appetite. Michael heads out to where Alex is hunched over his computer at the kitchen counter. ‘We’re going to grab something to eat. Want to come?’

Alex shakes his head. ‘Too busy. I’ll just eat something quick here. Have fun.’ He doesn’t even bother looking up from the screen.

‘Okay. Well, I’m be home soon.’ Alex’s fingers abruptly stop typing. Michael grins like an idiot. It’s the first time he’s used that word out loud. Home. He’s finally home.

Michael kisses Alex hard on his cheek. ‘I love you so much.’ And then he kisses him on his temple, his forehead and both eyes. Back down to his cheeks. Loudly punctuating each kiss with a smack of his lips.

Alex laughs, plays at swatting Michael away. ‘I love you, too.’

He kisses Alex one last time on the mouth. And then turns back towards Max. ‘I’m ready now.’ As he passes his brother he stops and smacks a kiss on his cheek as well. ‘Wouldn’t want you to feel left out.’

Max chuckles. He’s so damn happy for Michael.

They head out to his jeep and Max pauses before climbing inside. ‘I like this Michael. The Alex Michael. Looks good on you, brother.’

‘Feels good, too.’ He smiles and walks around the jeep, pulls Max into a hug. Lifting him off the ground and spinning him around.

Alex hears them laughing, smiles and sends a prayer of thanks to the universe.

October 2008

Alex returns to Roswell nine weeks after leaving for basic. His hair is shorn close and he’s lost weight. Michael barely recognizes him. And it breaks his heart. All the anger he remembers feeling with Alex left vanishing.

They are sitting on Michael’s bed. In his new airstream. Well, new to him anyway. Alex hasn’t said more than two words. But he’s driven out to the junkyard, so Michael is doing his best to make him feel wanted and welcome. Because Michael has missed him so much that sometimes he can’t breathe.

‘Was it bad?’ Michael asks. He knows the answer already.

Alex just shrugs and hugs his knees into his chest. ‘It’s over now.’

But that’s not true. They both know it’s only just beginning.

Michael aches to touch him. To hold him. Worries if he does, he’ll never let him go. ‘Do you want to stay here? With me. Instead of with…,’ His voice trails off. Doesn’t want to mention that man.

‘I got a motel room. But I’d rather stay here.’ He looks up at Michael for the first time, his pretty brown eyes so haunted. And Michael can no longer stop himself. He scoots back against his pillows, pulling Alex down onto his chest. The way Alex clings to him brings tears to his eyes.

‘I missed you.’ He whispers the words into Alex’s hair.

Alex shifts against him. Looking up. ‘Is your hand better?’

Michael instinctively flexes his fingers, feels the tight scar tissue stretch. Shows Alex. ‘It’s not pretty, but it still works. Mostly.’

They lie together for a long time. Holding on for dear life. Michael is just about asleep when Alex climbs on top of him. ‘Show me how much you missed me.’ His hands are clasped in Michael’s dirty t-shirt. ‘Please.’

He knows sex is maybe not the best idea, but he’s never once been able to say no to Alex. He weaves his fingers through Alex’s hair and stretches his neck up to kiss him softly on the mouth.

At that one simple touch, something in Alex comes undone. He collapses against Michael’s chest, body racked with sobs. Michael holds him until he falls asleep, until the sun comes up, until he has to leave again.

Their one year anniversary happens to coincide with Planet 7’s Pride celebration. All of their friends come along to celebrate with Michael and Alex.

Isobel declares herself in charge of wardrobe and dresses everyone for the big night. Michael looks like a walking bisexual flag – all pinks and purples and blues. While Alex just looks hot. Rainbow tattoos across his cheeks, tight black leather pants, and an old David Bowie t-shirt with the sleeves cut out. Cut off so low that Alex’s nipples are nearly always on display – at least from the side, which is where Michael tries to station himself all night.

Everyone else has some version of cheek tattoos, feather boas, and glitter. Especially Kyle who really takes to everything Isobel throws at him. Even Max has let Isobel do his makeup – the entire bar complimenting him on his gorgeous pink eyelashes.

They have an absolute blast. Singing and dancing and loving each other.

As the evening draws to a close, Isobel brings out a huge cake. It’s covered in rainbows and unicorns and little green aliens. Michael and Alex delight at the garish cake and hug her between them. Both wishing her a happy pride and kissing her thank you.

Michael cuts the first piece of cake and smashes it into Alex’s face. Isobel shrieks, punching him on the arm. But Michael just grins wider and stalks towards his boyfriend. Alex is trying to scramble way, but he’s not fast enough. Michael pounces, grabbing his hips and lifting him onto a stool. Thumbs under his chin, lifting his face up for better access. Licks the pink frosting from his chin and then buries his tongue in Alex’s mouth.

Everyone groans but throws glitter over them as they kiss. Isobel never forgives them for the food fight that breaks out shortly after. Her beautiful cake ruined.

On Michael’s 31st birthday, they head out to their spot in the desert. Wrap themselves in blankets in the bed of Michael’s truck. It’s a cool June night and the sky is clear, stars twinkling above them.

Their two year anniversary is next week. And they are taking their first real vacation. Michael has always wanted to go to Asia, so they have a whole trek planned. Three weeks in Thailand, Vietnam, and Japan.

‘Do you still think about leaving?’ Alex twines their fingers together.

Michael shakes his head. ‘There’s nothing out there for me.’

‘Really? You don’t want to know about your home anymore? Where you came from?’ His brow creases and he worries that Michael has given up too much for him.

But Michael reaches up and smooths out the crease with his thumb. ‘You are my home and I’m way more concerned about where we’re going. The past is the past. But the future can be anything we want it to be.’

‘And you’re really not sick of me yet?’ Alex smirks up at him. ‘I mean, I am unemployed now. Can’t even pay my half of the bills.’

Alex’s honorable discharge was one of the happiest things to ever happen to Michael. He’d work a thousand jobs if it meant Alex was free of the military.

‘Don’t worry, baby. I’m going to take care of you.’ He nuzzles his nose against Alex’s. ‘Staring with this.’ He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a guitar pick, hands it to Alex.

‘Rings are kind of dumb. So, I got you your favorite pick. A whole box of them, actually.’ He laughs, a little nervous now.

‘What?’ Alex is confused at first – but then realization lights up his eyes. ‘Wait – are you – what are you doing right now, Michael?’

Michael shrugs, leaning back into the blankets. ‘Asking you to marry me. Figured two years – ‘

Alex doesn’t let him finish. He straddles Michael’s waist and kisses the proposal from his mouth. Answering with his tongue. They move against each other, Alex frantic – Michael trying to slow him down.

‘Is that a yes, then?’ Michael smiles against Alex lips.

‘That’s a fuck yes.’ Alex attacks his mouth again and Michael doesn’t try to stop him this time.

#malex #malex fic #alex manes #michael guerin

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pynkhues · 4 years ago

Note

I hope you post your c & c Christmas fic! I am having a horrible Christmas alone bc of covid 19 and could use a little cheering up.

I’m so sorry you had a horrible Christmas alone, anon! And I know this is a few days late and a few dollars short, but I hope the first scene (and it’s a doozy of a scene at 3k words haha) from it helps?

I’m trying to finish the fic now, so fingers crossed I have it all up by tomorrow. It’s ended up being really long, haha, so hopefully people still want a monster Christmas fic four days after Christmas! 😊

“No.”

And damn, if Rio doesn’t pop an eyebrow at that.

“No?”

The question is enough to make Jane’s bottom lip wobble as she rocks in her galoshes, the sound of her wet socks squelching inside them making somethin’ in Rio’s head twitch, because shit – he’d tried to get her out of them at the back door. Tried to pick her up and cart her upstairs to the tub, ready to wash the snow Kenny had shoved down the back of her parka off, but she hadn’t wanted that neither. Had been content to dart beneath his arm the second he’d lugged Marcus up with his other; even more content to leave a trail of sludgy footprints behind her through the kitchen like she wanted him to follow, and he hadn’t exactly.

Or y’know, he had until she’d dashed past him again and he’d gotten a hand into the hood of her jacket.

“So you don’t want to get in there with him, huh?” Rio asks now, jerking his head back to where Marcus is already sprawled out in the tub, fuckin’ blissed out, his skinny arms slung over the rim and his body submerged in the steamy, sudsy water ‘til he looks like some eight-year-old mafia don. It’d make Rio grin – does – until he meets Jane’s look again, her bottom lip still wobbling as she furiously shakes her head, her rabbit beanie slipping down her icy wet hair.

Rio frowns.

“You ain’t cold?”

And shit, he knows she is.

Knows it because the second he’d pulled up to Glenvale Elementary School today to pick ‘em up, she’d been cold. A last-day-of-school snowball fight havin’ ballooned out until the faculty were left frantically trying to dry off forty shivering kids, and whatever, Rio had thought. It was good for them. Work hard, play hard gotta start somewhere, and he’d plucked Jane and Marcus’ tooth-chattering selves out of the fray and blast the car heaters the whole way home, but the second they’d tumbled out of the car, Kenny had thrown a snowball himself, and a fresh fight had begun.

And okay, maybe he should’ve stopped it sooner than he did, but he had Mick on call and the last drops to organise before the holidays, because apparently people buyin’ up supplies of prescription drugs as gifts for sick family members is a straight up thing (and call Rio Father Christmas, because damn if he ain’t deliverin’ on the fuckin’ miracle. Ain’t even price gouging, although that’s more because Elizabeth had turned a particular shade of purple at the prospect and he knew he’d never hear the end of it if he’d bloated prices, but - - damn, it would’ve put at least two of the kids through college.)

Point is, maybe he meant to pull ‘em in after half an hour, but by the time he finally got back outside it’d been close to two full hours and the kids were all red-nosed and tremblin’, their clothes soaked through, the evening just starting to yawn above them to swallow the last of the light whole.

“No,” Jane repeats now, sullen this time, and Rio feels his nostrils flare in irritation as he stares back down at her. At least the room is warm enough, he thinks, watching the steam curl the ends of her wet hair, the ebb of the heating warping the air as it pours from the floor vents. The kids’ bathroom is one of the rooms they’ve refit over the last year – a pet project of Elizabeth’s that Rio had found himself involved in, mostly because he almost got as much of a thrill out of inventing organisational systems as she did. The big, low white tub set back against the wall with polka dotted wallpaper above it, gold light fittings and a long, deep blue vanity that had as much storage as they could ever need. Still – it didn’t stop one of Emma’s bikini’d Barbie’s and a fuckin’ deluge of rubber sea animals from taking up space around the room.

“I’m a grown up,” Jane adds, sniffing wetly, pulling his attention back, and Rio’s second eyebrow raises to meet his first. “Grown ups don’t have baths with boys.”

“Om has baths with daddy,” Marcus says helpfully from the tub, and Rio gestures back at him, taking in the way Jane just huffs out a breath and stomps her little foot against the white honeycomb tiles and it figures, Rio thinks, that one of Elizabeth’s kids would end up with the fuckin’ stubborn powerball in that genetic lottery.

Figures it’d be Jane too.

“That’s different, they have to share everything because they’re a mommy and an od.”

At least the others ain’t this stubborn, he reminds himself, scrubbing a hand back over his head. At least he’d been able to pile ‘em up with towels and sweats and direct them to the downstairs bathroom while he handled Jane and Marcus, but then again - -

He trains his ears to hear ‘em – Emma and Danny’s giggles sounding through the floor beneath his feet, loud even over the downpour of the shower, and then:

The flush of a toilet.

Kenny screams.

Right.

Lotta other balls in that genetic lottery too though, huh?

He exhales sharply.

“A’ight,” he says, looking back down at Jane’s pink little face. “You don’t gotta share a bath since you’re all grown, but you can’t stay in your wet clothes.”

And it’s weird then – the look that Jane levels him with. Somethin’ too hard in the set to her mouth and too open in her wide green eyes, and Rio’s frown deepens, brow furrowing, because there’s somethin’ in that look that tells him this ain’t entirely just about stubbornness, when suddenly Marcus chimes in from the tub.

“Soup.”

And shit, no, they’re havin’ pizza for dinner – Rio’s already ordered it – but before he can say as much, Jane’s nose is wrinkling up and she’s rolling those too wide eyes and that hard set to her mouth is softening, and huh, Rio thinks. They ain’t talking about dinner either.

“Soup doesn’t have bubbles, Marcus.”

“This one does!” he tells her easily, and Rio turns to watch his son glide his hands through the bathwater, catching soapsuds, a too-innocent grin on his face. “It’s an alien soup. Like - - like from Neptune. I got abducted! I’m gonna get eaten! Help me, Officer Janey!!”

With that, he slides down into the water, flails his skinny legs up above the surface, fake yelling, and Rio huffs, exasperated as water spills over the top of the tub, but can’t quite hide the twitch at his lips when he sees Jane’s look tear – the urge to play too already warring on her face as she steps closer.

“No, Marcus! We can play later, not - - ”

“Help!! Hel - - blergh.”

Marcus splutters around a mouthful of soapsuds, and Rio does roll his eyes this time, grabbing a washcloth from the sink to wipe his son’s face.

“You gonna help him, Officer Janey?” he asks, glancing back from Marcus and they can all see Jane’s resolve weakening. She shifts her weight, puffs out her cheeks, and then, just like that, she caves.

“Okay, Sir Marcus, I’ll get you home for Christmas.”

And thank fuck for that, Rio thinks, keeping his expression carefully in check as Marcus grins in delight, squirming back up the side of the tub to make room for her. It only takes a minute for her to peel off her jacket, leaking freezing water everywhere in the process, and Rio edges forwards, starting to help her when his cell phone buzzes in the back pocket of his jeans. He pulls it out, checks the number, and hooks it under his ear as he crouches down beside Jane.

“’ey,” he says, and immediately he’s met with a wave of sound from the chaos of the mall – the tinny, tinkling melodies of Christmas songs and the thrum of shoppers, the distant sounds of static announcements and the too-close bray of Annie’s laugh, but it’s Elizabeth who replies, her voice clear and clean as a bell.

“Hi. Did we decide on the flatware set for your sister in the end? They’ve got one on sale here at this cute little kitchen place, and - - ”

Rio sighs, annoyance sparking at the fraying edges of his patience. He lifts up Jane’s leg as she dangles herself over the edge of the tub, pulling off one of her galoshes, and then the other, cringing when her soaked pink socks settle back on the floor, leaving a smear of dirty water on the tiles.

“We decided no, mami,” he tells Elizabeth over the line, pulling off Jane’s socks in one rough motion as Jane makes a grab for a rubber fish. “We already got her the - - ”

“Towels, I know, but she didn’t have enough forks for us when we were there last week, and if that’s going to be a regular thing now, I really think we should get her the extra flatware set.”

And shit, Rio thinks, moving to kneel so he can peel off Jane’s sopping wet sweater and shirt as she kicks off her jeans and undies, it figures.

It figures because Elizabeth’s been pressed about Carmen’s place since Carmen and Matt finally separated back in August, splittin’ up their assets and sellin’ the house. It had been a long time comin’, and Rio couldn’t say he wasn’t pleased about it – after all, him and Carmen hadn’t always seen eye-to-eye, but shit, she was his sister and she was a boss bitch, and Matt had always been the sort of belly crawlin’ fuck who’d soured at any woman who was more of one than him.

Anyway, it didn’t take all that much to figure out that Elizabeth was watchin’ Carmen’s marriage dissolve and her new life as a single mom with the sort of projecting fixation that - - shit - - just dredged up baggage.

Still, it was kind of fuckin’ funny too to watch Elizabeth try to help Carmen in the way she wouldn’t let anyone do for her back when she finally called it with her own dumbass ex.

“Yeah, those towels weren’t cheap,” Rio says into the phone, standing up and grabbing Jane underneath her icy arms to swing her into the hot water beside Marcus, letting her eyes slip shut briefly when Jane kicks a fresh wave of hot water onto the floor of the bathroom.

“Neither is cooking dinner for seven extra people.”

Grabbing his cell properly now that Jane’s in the tub, Rio drops his free arm down, grabbing Jane and Marcus’ wet clothes off the floor and striding out of the room, down the stairs and beelining for the laundry. He grins, pleased, when he sees Emma’s already put her own snow clothes in the washing machine, even if she’s managed to spill washing powder all over the floor in the process of it.

“One thing,” he sing-songs over the bustle of the mall behind Elizabeth’s voice. “Everyone’s gettin’ one thing. If you want to get Carmen the flatware set, that’s two things.”

And he can’t even see her, but he can feel Elizabeth bristle down the line.

“I might not be as quick with the books as you, but I do know basic math, thank you.”

Which - - shit, not what he meant. He grabs a rag out of the laundry cabinet, dropping down to wipe up the powder.

“Nah, you ain’t hearin’ me. I know you, Elizabeth. You get Carmen two things, you gettin’ everyone two things – Aida, my mom, your sister, your friend – we ain’t doin’ that this year. We decided that.”

Vaguely he can hear her sister laugh over the line again, and then Ruby say:

What about…

“No, I think she has one of those already,” Elizabeth replies, and Rio sighs, tossing the rag into the washing machine with the kids’ clothes. Vaguely, he can hear footsteps down the hall behind him, Jane and Marcus still playing in the tub, the shower a few rooms up, and he still has some business calls to make tonight, and damn, weren’t they going to figure out which presents were from Santa and which were from them later too? He checks his watch and frowns.

“Elizabeth, what time you comin’ home?”

“Soon,” she tells him quickly, then, to one of the others: “No, that’s too much.”

Suddenly, a cold little hand grabs his wrist, and Rio glances down to see Emma clutching at it, already decked out in her pink fleecy sweats and rainbow fuzzy unicorn slippers, which’d be fine if her hair wasn’t hanging wet, soaking into the back of her dressing gown. He frowns, pushes his cell between his shoulder and head again to pull a hair elastic off his wrist and tie her hair back up off her neck.

“Od, can we watch Frozen tonight?”

And Rio briefly blanches at that, but grunts in affirmation, letting her go only for Emma to come back and cling to his hand again, splaying his fingers so she can fit her own between his. He blinks down at her curiously, picking up his cell again with his other hand, because damn, it ain’t like she’s never held his hand before – she’s always been a touchy kid – but he figured she’d be out of sight the second he told her she could put Frozen on. Like she’s seen the look on his face, she squeezes his hand and sidles closer until she’s practically on top of his leg, and so Rio crouches down instead, lugging her up and carrying her out of the laundry and over to the living room, letting her rest her head on his shoulder as she clings to his side.

“Annie, stop it,” Elizabeth says, annoyance growing in her tone, and Rio rolls his eyes, depositing Emma on the couch, and okay, maybe the kid’s just tired, he thinks, watching as she nestles back in the cushions, her big blue eyes only half-lidded.

He flicks on the TV while Elizabeth babbles to Annie and Ruby in his ear, like she’s half-forgotten to hang-up, and he’s about to do it himself instead when he hears the name Dean pop outta Annie’s mouth, which - -

Fuck that.

His jaw tightens, loosens, tightens again.

“Thought we weren’t doin’ all of that this year,” he hums, tryin’ to keep his voice light as he loads up Frozen on Disney+ and grabs one of the blankets to toss over Emma, because wasn’t that dumbass ex of hers off in Nevada this year with his new girl’s family?

“What?”

And sure, play dumb, baby, Rio thinks, striding out of the room as Emma wriggles down in the blanket. He heads back towards the corridor, hearing Jane squeal somewhere upstairs and Marcus laugh as he moves towards the downstairs bathroom.

“Thought we had the place and everyone in it to ourselves.”

“We do,” she tells him quickly, and he can hear her moving herself, walkin’ maybe – her sister’s voice getting further away.

“We ain’t changin’ plans.”

Because fuck – they’re a week out from Christmas, and they had shit on lock this year. Had decided on that together too after the whole mess of last year with Elizabeth having to do the six hour round trip to take the kids to South Haven after Dean’s car had broken down (fuckin’ allegedly, Rio thinks with a snort, because he could smell that bullshit a mile away).

“The plan isn’t changing,” she promises, raising her voice a little to be heard over the roaring opening chords of Last Christmas. “We’re still hosting everyone, and the kids are staying with us, it’s just - - something’s just come up which is - - I mean. It’s really not anything you need to worry about. I’ll tell you when I get home.”

Exhaling harshly, Rio scrubs a hand back over his head again, and shit – if this means Dean’s comin’ again - -

He pauses, distracted suddenly by the sight of Danny bouncing from foot-to-foot outside the bathroom, shaking with cold in his parka and beanie, melted snow dripping from his hair, waiting still for his turn in the bathroom. With a grunt of irritation, Rio strides up the hall, banging heavily on the door only to hear a strained in a minute from Kenny through the crack, and Jesus, Rio thinks.

Teenagers.

He covers the mouthpiece of the phone, glancing down at Danny who just shifts his weight again, snow-pale except for his bright red nose as he stares up at him.

“Use our bathroom,” he tells him, jerking his head upstairs towards his and Elizabeth’s en suite and Danny blinks owlishly back at him, shivering still, and Rio jerks his head in instruction again because it’d be just his luck to have to cart the kid to hospital for hypothermia again.

“Is everything okay there?” Elizabeth asks as someone says is this all today, ma’am?

“Fine,” Rio says shortly, and then, just to annoy her: “I’ll tell you when you get home, yeah?”

And it works, if her huff is anything to go by, and then when he hears cash or card? his lip curls.

“Elizabeth, don’t get the flatware set.”

The last thing he hears before she hangs up is the ring of the cash register.

#there's a lot going on it which you can probably tell from this excerpt haha #it ended up being a bit plot heavy #and a bit angsty #but still v christmas-y #and of course with a nice big hea #the center and circumference #fic asks #my fic #welcome to my ama #Anonymous

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ruewrites · 4 years ago

Text

More than Friends?

AO3

Ship: Solomon/Asmo

Word Count: 2640

Warnings: None

Request from: larii_cipher (AO3)

The brothers knew when Solomon spent the night, it was hard to not notice honestly. Asmo wasn’t exactly quiet when he brought someone home.On more than one occasion one of the brothers found themselves pounding on his door asking him to keep it down (not that it did much). In more recent centuries Asmo had been going home with other people. Maybe all of his brothers’ interruptions had gotten to him, or maybe it had been the long conversation he’d had with Lucifer.

The one exception to the rule was Solomon. Solomon usually spent the night at Lamentation when RAD was in session. It wasn’t an unusual sight. After all, he’d had a pact with their brother for millenia. Of course they were friends with benefits. No one was surprised about that.

What did surprise them was when Solomon came down that morning. Plopping himself down at the breakfast table, he ran his fingers through his bedhead and offered the brothers a tired good morning. Before anyone could ask him anything, Asmodeus came tumbling down the stairs. He was much more put together than the sorcerer and had a comb in hand.

“You could at least let me fix your hair! It’s almost as messy as Mammon’s.”

“Oi! My hair’s always just the way I want it!” Mammon interjected.

Asmo rolled his eyes and started combing through Solomon’s hair. His morning hair was cute, but it certainly wasn’t presentable to the outside world. Besides, something as adorable as a sleepy Solomon should be reserved for his eyes only!

Solomon groaned and tried to push the comb away. “Asmodeus, please. Let me have my coffee first,” he mumbled.

Before Asmo could whine any further, Lucier cleared his throat. He certainly hadn’t remembered Solomon coming over, nor did he remember him spending the night. Even if it was someone he knew, he had talked to Asmo about sneaking others into Lamentation. Especially when said guest spent the night. Asmo shrunk back, but only slightly as his attention turned to Lucifer. He knew.

“Asmodeus,” his voice was even and stern. Yes he knew Solomon, but that didn’t change the fact that Asmo had broken rules he’d set in place. “I certainly wasn’t aware we had a guest.”

All eyes were on Asmo now as he quickly searched for an answer to give the eldest. His face had paled, and if he had had any appetite to begin with this morning it was most certainly gone now. Lucifer’s fingers drummed rhythmically against the table as he waited. His energy was nothing short of dangerous. But before he could utter a word, Solomon stepped it.

“I’m afraid it was my fault,” he said, voice unwavering, “I hadn’t meant for Asmodeus to break any rules you set in place. We had a little project to work on, and some studying, it took longer than I anticipated. I apologize.”

Lucifer and Solomon held eye contact for a moment. The eldest leaned back in his chair and folded his hands, looking at the pair through lowered eyes. “ Studying hm? ” he asked, raising an eyebrow, “Just studying?”

“ And a project,” Solomon reminded, Asmodeus still remaining uncharacteristically quiet by his side.

“Well then,” he directed his attention back to his younger brother, “Studying and working on a project instead of participating in your usual activities? Well done Asmodeus, I’m proud of you.”

Asmodeus let out a visible sigh of relief as his normal glow returned to his being. Lucifer’s praise was rare, and it certainly wasn’t something to take for granite! “Oh! Thank you Lucifer!” he chirped, smile stretching from ear to ear, “Solomon was a big help last night! I don’t think we’ll get anything less than high marks!”

“However,” Lucifer stopped Asmo in his tracks, “I will be notified the next time there is even the slightest potential of anyone, including Solomon, being with you after hours. Especially if they spend the night. Understood?”

“...Yes, Lucifer…”

The rest of breakfast went rather smoothly. Asmo was back to his chattering self and soon Solomon was occasionally joining in with discussion with the brothers. Mostly he stuck to chatting with Satan and Levi. Solomon and Satan often swapped books with each other, and he often participated in Levi’s nerdier activities. Lately though, Asmo had been popping up more and more wherever Solomon was. No matter which brother he was with, Asmo would find him. Sure Asmo was a little clingy, but this was a bit much, even for him. After his third cup of coffee, Solomon even let Asmo fix his hair a little bit, which made the demon more than happy. After everyone had settled down, and Beel shoveled away the rest of the food down his mouth, Asmo stood. His arms were wrapped firmly around Solomon’s who was dragged up with him.

“Well, we’re gonna head out for the day! We have quite a few errands to run!” Asmo sang, snuggling ever closer into Solomon’s side.

All Solomon could do was chuckle, “I thought you said you just wanted to go look at some cute clothes-”

“Anyways we won’t be back till late! Buh bye!”

******

“You guys don’t honestly believe that bullshit Asmo was spoutin earlier, do ya?” Mammon asked with a huff and leaning back in his chair. It was a rare day when a few of the brothers had gotten together just to hang out. Or rather, it was an odd day where they were consumed so much so by their boredom, that they all decided to go out, and there was nothing that could cure boredom quite like a trip out to town. Mammon was still replaying breakfast in his head. There was absolutely no way they were just studying . “I can’t believe Lucifer believed ‘em. Solomon and Asmo just studying ? Hah! I don’t believe it.”

Satan nodded, albeit a little reluctantly. “He does seem to be acting a bit attached . Even for Asmo. Levi, has he been inserting himself into your times with Solomon as well?”

Levi huffed and slumped back into his chair. “Don’t even get me started ! I was trying to show Solomon this new show that just came out, we’d been keeping up with the mangas, and the next thing I know Asmo is in my room and on his lap. Fml could he be more of a normie? Like I couldn’t even look at the two of them! Ugh,” he groaned shaking his head, face hidden in his hands.

“Asmo has to be breakin a few of dearest older brother’s rules with Solomon. Like, they gotta be friends with benefits right?”

“It does seem like something Asmo would do…”

Beel had finally looked up from his burger. He wasn’t really participating in his brothers’ gossiping, but he did seem to notice something just beyond them. He tilted his head to one side, then the other. “I’m no expert,” he said in between bites, “But that looks like a little more than just friends with benefits to me.”

The older three turned around to follow where Beel was looking only to see the duo. They were coming out of a little candy shop on the corner. Asmo rummaged around in the bag for a moment before pulling out a bon bon and placing it against Solomon’s mouth. They could all hear the squeal of delight that left him as Solomon brought the candy into his mouth. He gave his nod of approval before sliding one arm around Asmo’s waist and pulling him close to his side. Asmo’s excited chatter getting softer the farther they went down the sidewalk.

The duo had been entirely oblivious to the five brothers sitting across the street from them.

“Blehg,” Levi gagged, “And here I thought Solomon wasn’t a normie at all…”

“I mean that could just be Asmo-” Satan chimed in.

“But Solomon also made a move,” Beel added.

Belphie moved slightly and opened his eyes, “Who cares ? If Asmo and Solomon want to be weird that’s their problem.”

All of them were silent for a moment. Normally this wouldn’t matter. Normally they would chalk it up to Asmo being clinging and wanting Solomon’s attention.

“We could follow them.. Ya know, just ta make sure the ever shady Solomon doesn’t have anything up his sleeves,” Mammon said slowly. Each head around the table seemed to perk up with interest. It was a slow day…

“Well we should hurry if we don’t wanna lose ‘em, right?”

******

This little trip seemed to be more than clothes shopping. Asmo did try on an ungodly amount of outfits to show off to Solomon. Each time he would twist and twirl around waiting for the man’s approval before changing once more. Some outfits seemed to catch Solomon’s eye more than others. Every now and again Asmo would come out with matching outfits or pajamas and hold them out rather excitedly. Sometimes he would giggle, hiding something he’d already bought behind his back in a bag.

“Well this is boring,” Belphie huffed, leaning against Beel’s back, “Isn’t this what Asmo always does when he goes out shopping? He’s just showing off and looking for-”

“Shh,” Levi huffed, “They might say something that gives them away.”

“Gives what away?” the youngest growled, looking down at Levi from his perch on Beel’s back, “Like I said, if they want to be weird together that’s their problem.”

“Is he getting anything special? Anything that looks fancy?” Satan asked, turning towards Mammon.

He shook his head, “Nah, just… Normal stuff, unless there’s something good in the bags he has. Oh wait!”

Mammon pointed down at one of the bags on the floor. It was a light shade of green and wrapped up in all sorts of fancy ribbons. It was a small bag, but tall. Golden cursive letters curled around the front.

“That’s some real fancy demonus they got right there. Like the good, expensive stuff,” Mammon grinned, eyes locked on the bag, “Worth a pretty grimm.”

“Chocolates and demonus?” Satan mused, mirroring Mammon’s grin, “Perhaps Asmo has another study night planned.”

If that wasn’t damning enough, Asmo held up his finger, whispering something quickly toSolomon before quickly typing something onto his D.D.D. Each of the brothers’ devices buzzes with a single notification from their group chat.

Asmo: Won’t be at dinner tonight, I have some very important plans that require my absolute attention. Try to have fun without me 💖

With that, Asmo started to pick up some of his bags and waited for Solomon before they left once more. The brothers waited for a bit before exiting the store after them. Honestly it was a miracle they hadn’t been caught yet. Maybe it was due to how caught up Asmo seemed to be with Solomon. It was difficult to hear what he was chattering about without getting closer, but they couldn’t risk getting caught. The celestial realm knew the hell Asmo would raise if he discovered that his brothers were snooping in his life. The pair stopped and checked the time before hailing a driver.

Then they were gone.

*****

The twins departed from the other three almost as soon as they got home. Belphie was quite clear about his disinterest in whatever was going on between his brother and Solomon, and Beel felt a growing discomfort at following Asmo around the way they were.

So, the remaining three brothers waited patiently for Asmo’s return. The front door opening and closing was followed by giggles and hushed whispers, and then feet quickly running up the stairs. They waited for a moment, then two, then three.

Nothing…

Asmodeus wasn’t one to be quiet. Perhaps it was a ruse of sorts? Them pretending to come home only to disappear somewhere else? It was possible, especially if Asmo was trying to pull one over on Lucifer.

Creeping upstairs, the brothers stood outside of Asmo’s door. They all stood completely still, waiting for something, anything… But nothing came.

“Do… Do we go in?” Levi asked, looking from Satan to Mammon, “I mean… It’s possible that they’re not there… Isn’t it?”

Mammon placed his ear against the door as Satan shook his head, “It’s still Asmo’s room. I don’t think-”

“ Shhhhhh ,” Mammon hissed, “I think I hear somethin.”

“Wait really? What is it? I want to hear!”

Soon, all three were pressed up closely to the door. Unfortunately, Asmo’s door wasn’t shut properly, and the three went tumbling into Asmo’s room. They were greeted by a yelp and the scent of vanilla candles all around the room, as well as a glare from Asmo. Both Solomon and Asmo were currently on his bed. Demonus poured into glasses, and both chocolates and bagsfrom Ristorante Six were around them as they were curled close together. Honestly, Asmo didn’t look too threatening with one of Solomon’s shirts and a blanket wrapped around him, but his anger was still present.

A well manicured finger reached out to pause the movie they were watching. “ What are you doing ?” he huffed, eyes narrowing in on his brothers.

“What are you doing? Ow! Levi watch it!” Mammon hastily stood up and put his hands on his hips.

“What am I doing? What am I doing?! ” Asmo shrieked, “You mean my date ? Is that what you’re asking about? My date, with my boyfriend, in my room?”

“Date?” Levi chirped.

“Boyfriend?” Satan asked looking at Solomon.

Mammon took a moment, gears turning in his head as he met Asmo’s glare. Then it seemed to occur to him. “Oh… So you two aren’t just fucking?”

Asmo groaned and hid his face with one of his pillows, “ You moron .”

Solomon coughed and spoke up, “No… No we aren’t. Asmodeus, have you honestly not told your brothers?”

“I thought it was obvious!”

The whine made Solomon chuckle, and he carefully ran his fingers through what was visible of Asmo’s strawberry-blonde locks.

“So, you two weren’t studying last night?” Satan asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Oh no, we were studying. This little date is actually a celebration for a job well done,” Solomon said, motioning to the scenery around them, “We haven’t been able to have a proper date night in a while. So if you wouldn’t mind-”

“Say no more!”

“Ugh, I’m done with this gross normie stuff.”

Satan grabbed one of Mammon’s arms, and Levi the other and dragged his dumbfounded self out of the room. Solomon used a bit of magic to close the door tightly before pulling the pillow off of Asmo’s face.

“I just want one nice date! Solomon don’t you see how mean they are to me?” Asmo whined, pouting up at Solomon. Solomon chuckled and scooped Asmo up into his lap and kissed his forehead.

“We could have had a date sooner , if a certain someone hadn’t insisted on more kisses and attention when we were supposed to be working.”

He kissed Asmo’s lips before he could pout any further and held him there until he felt him relax. Thin arms wrapped around his neck, and Solomon reached out to unpause the cheesy move they had only half been paying attention to.

“You did at least tell Lucifer that I’d be staying over yes?” he asked when Asmo pulled away, “I would hate for you to get punished and tied up because of me.”

“You usually don’t complain when I’m tied up darling.”

“You know what I mean.”

Asmo hummed and snuggled closer, eyes falling back onto the movie and popping another chocolate into his mouth. He was allowed to have some sweets when he was on a date. “I did, I sent him a text message when we went out. So he should know.”

“Good, that means we can have a nice little date without worry,” he smiled, wrapping his arms around Asmo tightly and leaning in for another kiss.

#solodeus #soloasmo #asmosolo #asmodeus x solomon #obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me solomon #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor

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words-with-wren · 4 years ago

Text

i’m not gonna make it alone

Fandom: Rapunzel’s Tangled Adventures

Characters: Varian and Ruddiger

Words: 7,000ish

A/N: Tumblr removed all of my italics and I’m mad about this fact. Anyway I’m getting emotional over a boy and his best friend raccoon.

___

“Oh come on, really? Again?”

The animal stared down at him from the shelf. Varian pressed his hands to his hips, glaring up at it. For a long moment they stood that way, stalemate, neither willing to break eye contact first.

“Y’know,” Varian said, finally giving up. The raccoon seemed surprisingly smug at winning their staring contest. It chattered happily, bounding along the top of the self as Varian scrambled onto the nearby desk. “I really don’t know why you insist on coming in here - all the apples are outside.”

He stood on the desk, one hand on the wall. The top of the shelf was eye level now, the raccoon sitting smugly at the other end.

“And when Dad finds you’re in here again, he’s not gonna be happy,” Varian threatened. To be fair, it was just as likely Dad wouldn’t visit the lab - he never did - so the raccoon was probably safe.

It seemed to know that, sitting smugly, watching as though it were interested to see what he would do next. Varian scowled, laying a hand on the shelf and testing it. It seemed sturdy enough.

He was halfway onto the shelf when the raccoon decided it had had enough. With a chirp and a bound, it leapt forward, lighting briefly on Varian’s head before bounding onto his back and down to the ground.

“Hey!” Varian cried, twisting to watch. The twist was too much and his hand landed on nothing. A flash of fear shot through him and then he was falling, letting out a yelp as he did.

He hit the ground, a few empty vials he had knocked off in his fall shattering around him. For a moment, he lay there, eyes closed, waiting to regain his breath.

A low trill came from above and he opened to see the raccoon, sitting on his chest, grinning down at him (and yes it was grinning - Varian knew.)

“Yeah, real funny,” he muttered. The raccoon laughed.

~*~

“Varian, we talked about this.”

His father’s voice was disappointed, and somehow that was worse than anger. Varian looked down, gripping his arm, unable to meet his father’s eyes.

“I’m sorry - I just…” he began, but his father cut him off.

“Varian, this is the third time something like that has happened this month. You’re going to hurt someone.”

“I know! I don’t mean it. But Dad,” he said, looking up, spreading his hands wide, “if it works then bringing in the harvest would -”

“Varian!” Dad’s voice was sharp, enough to let Varian know the conversation was over. He looked down, suddenly fighting back tears. “Look, I know you want to help,” Dad said quietly, his voice a little softer. “But this isn’t the way to do it, son.” He laid a hand on Varian’s shoulder, and Varian turned his head away. “I just don’t want you to hurt anyone. Or yourself.”

“I know,” Varian whispered, not trusting himself to speak any louder. His father sighed, straightening and leaving the lab he had rushed into a few moments before, after Varian’s latest project had ended in disaster.

Again.

Varian sighed, sitting down heavily among the remains of the harvester he had been working on. He rolled a few stray screws in his fingers, watching the metal clink together.

A soft trill came from the window and Varian looked up, wiping his eyes quickly (he hadn’t been crying, he hadn’t).

“Oh, it’s you again,” he said. The raccoon chirped, leaping off the window and bounding towards Varian. He sighed, holding out a hand to it. That seemed to be all the invitation it needed - with a chirp, it bounded up to him, settling onto his lap. Varian smiled in spite of himself, running a gloved hand through the animal’s fur.

“Thanks, buddy,” he said quietly.

~*~

“Guess what, buddy!” Varian cried, pushing open the door to his new lab - it wasn’t quite as large as the one that had been destroyed when his water heaters had exploded, but it was enough for his needs.

Ruddiger looked up from the large, black rock he had been curled up on (that really didn’t look like a comfortable seat, but who was Varian to argue?) He chirped questioningly, wrapping his paws around the rock.

“It was a success. Well, kinda. I mean, we did create a tornado that almost sucked everyone up and destroyed the whole of Corona, but - eh-heh - no one got hurt. Well… no one important anyway, the judge of the contest was kinda a jerk.”

He moved around the lab, humming a tune slightly. With a glow of pride, he carefully unpinned the first prize ribbon from his chest, laying it on the desk.

“And I gave Cassandra the cassandrium! I think she liked it, well, I hope she liked it. I mean…” He turned, facing Ruddiger. “Do you think she liked it?”

Ruddiger shrugged, leaping off the rock and bounding over to join Varian. He quickly leapt onto the desk, staring intently at the ribbon.

“It’s pretty cool right,” Varian said. “I didn’t technically win, but my invention did the coolest thing! Even though it nearly messed everything up.” He sighed, laying both hands on the desk, his excitement after the expo fading slightly.

Ruddiger chirped happily, bounding onto his shoulders.

“Hey, woah, what’re you doing?” Varian asked. “Hey, stop, that tickles.” He broke down into giggles as Ruddiger buried his whiskers into the side of Varian’s cheek. Stumbling back a few paces, Varian grinned, reaching up to lift the animal off his shoulders. “You’re right, it was a good day. I should stop focusing on what went wrong.”

Ruddiger under one arm, he turned to face the rocks again. Rapunzel had promised to help, and he knew she would keep that promise. But he wanted to study them as much as he could, find out what he could and then go to the princess with that information.

“Okay, buddy,” he said, lifting Ruddiger to talk to him face to face. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

Ruddiger chattered excitedly, wriggling out of his grasp and crawling back onto his shoulders. Varian grinned. It was kinda nice having the raccoon’s warmth around his neck.

~*~

“They will pay.”

His hands were clenched tight, his cheeks wet with tears and snow, grief and fear merging together into one burning ball of rage.

His father was frozen before him, reaching out in a last, failed effort to escape. Varian could barely take his eyes off the sight, but he couldn’t bear to look anymore. His father was frozen, frozen and still and silent and - and he could be dead for all Varian knew.

“My fault,” a voice whispered in the back of his mind. But he pushed it away before the thought became too powerful, before it took him over and made him helpless and unable to do anything due to his guilt.

“Their fault,” he told himself. It was their fault - the king, for not doing anything about the rocks. The kingdom, for refusing to help him. Rapunzel for not keeping her promise.

It was their fault and they were going to pay.

Ruddiger, curled under the desk, watched his friend, watched as he succumbed to grief, to anger, to the easy path of darkness. Ruddiger watched for a moment, at first a little afraid, but slowly he began to emerge from the shadows.

Varian needed a friend, and Ruddiger wasn’t going to leave him.

~*~

Ruddiger stayed. His father had left him. Rapunzel had abandoned him. Old Corona moved to their new land, electing a new leader. But Varian remained, determined to find the answers, to set his father free.

And Ruddiger stayed too, despite the cold of the air. Despite the snow coating the ground outside, the lack of apples and the chill that refused to leave the laboratory. Ruddiger stayed.

Varian didn’t know why, but he was afraid to question it. Afraid that if he did, Ruddiger would leave him, leave him completely and utterly alone.

And that terrified him.

So they worked together, mostly in silence, Varian occasionally ranting, shouting, raging. Ruddiger bullying him to sleep, to eat, to drink when he needed it.

They survived.

And Ruddiger stayed.

~*~

“It didn’t work!” Varian shouted, throwing the vial across the room. “Nothing works! Nothing ever works!” He slammed a fist into the amber, not caring that it hurt his hands, not caring that it would do nothing.

“Nothing ever works and everything I try fails!”

Ruddiger chirped softly, stepping a little closer. He had been more hesitant as of late, always present, but not as quick to leap onto Varian’s shoulder. Varian didn’t blame him.

“I keep failing! And failing! And hurting people and I don’t know what to do, Ruddiger!” Varian shouted. He turned, kicking hard at a slab of metal. It only succeeded in sending stabbing pain up his leg and he let out a bellow of rage, of anger, of grief, turning and slamming both hands into the amber. “I’m sorry,” he gasped out. “I’m trying, Dad! I promise. I’m trying.”

He sobbed, his shoulders shaking, the anger fading. Slowly, he sank down the amber, curling into himself and leaning against it, pretending his father was still there, pretending his father was going to lean down and hold him close as he used to when he was a child.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Ruddiger bounded forward, wriggling under his arms and pressing a cold nose to his chin. Varian sobbed, wrapping the raccoon in his arms. For a moment, he stayed that way, clutching Ruddiger tightly, curled against the amber, against his father. His shoulders shook with silent sobs, tears wetting Ruddiger’s fur.

“I’m trying,” he whispered. Ruddiger crooned softly, pressing close to him, trying to give him as much comfort as possible.

“I’ll figure it out, Dad. I promise,” Varian whispered, looking up at the imposing figure of his father, encased, trapped, silent. Ruddiger purred softly, curling up close, trying to be warmth in the boy’s cold life.

~*~

The flower wouldn’t work but he knew what would (it would work, it would, it had to). The flower had lost its power and given it to Rapunzel. Rapunzel, who had turned her back on Varian when he had needed her most. Rapunzel, who had promised him aid and thrown him aside when he asked for her to make good on that promise. Rapunzel who had forgotten about him, cast him aside, betrayed him.

Rapunzel would free his father.

Rapunzel would free his father, or Varian didn’t know what he would do. (But he refused to even consider that. This plan would work. It would work because every other plan had failed.)

Now that he had a goal to work towards, things became a little easier. He knew what he was doing, it was only a matter of doing it. And if anyone got hurt in the process, that was their own fault for getting in his way.

It wouldn’t have come to this if they had just listened to him. Helped him.

Ruddiger stayed, settled on his shoulders, on his desk, curled up close. Varian took advantage of that. He needed a distraction, someone to keep Corona busy while he caught his bait.

Ruddiger stayed, so Ruddiger became the distraction.

Ruddiger didn’t want to, but Ruddiger knew Varian needed him. He would do anything for the kid - even this. Varian was obsessed, focused on the goal, on what he was trying to achieve. Varian wasn’t thinking straight but Ruddiger refused to leave.

“It’ll only be for a few minutes,” Varian said, mixing chemicals together, goggles on as he peered at the glass that held them. “And then you’ll be back to normal.” He was justifying it, to himself, to the raccoon - neither of them knew.

But Ruddiger knew he wasn’t going to leave Varian. He would help in whatever way he could. Would do whatever he could to keep Varian from slipping too far.

Even if that meant being turned into a monster.

~*~

He had failed. He had failed again and it was their fault. Nothing worked, nothing had ever worked, nothing was ever going to work. His father was gone and Varian was never going to see him again.

He refused to show weakness. He stood in the prison cart, glaring out at the world that had turned its back on him. They had beat him down, beat him back, but he wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of seeing him break. He was still strong, even if something inside him had broken a long time ago.

With a flash of fur, a familiar weight settled onto his shoulder. Varian reacted with surprise, hiding his reaction a moment later. He wasn’t going to show them any emotion. He was strong.

The cart began to rattle away and Varian sat, his shoulders rigid, his breathing tight. Ruddiger pressed his nose into Varian’s cheek and Varian lifted a chained hand.

“Why’re you here?” he whispered, his voice surprisingly hard. He refused to show any emotion.

Ruddiger didn’t answer, curling tightly around him and suddenly Varian was fighting back tears. Why was Ruddiger here? He had turned his only friend into a monster! Why did Ruddiger insist on staying with him?

He kept his composure with effort as they returned to the castle, as he was marched through the halls, chains heavy on his wrists, head held high. He kept his emotions behind a wall as he was shown into a small cell, as the door was slammed shut and locked behind him. He refused to break as the guards moved around, exchanging a few words, as the prison slowly grew silent.

Ruddiger shifted, crawling down his front to settle in his lap. The raccoon stood on his hind legs, lifting a paw and pressing it to Varian’s cheek.

Finally, finally, Varian allowed himself the luxury of tears. He let out a low sob, and that was enough to break the dams, to have him curl into a tight ball with Ruddiger in the centre, pressed close, tears finally falling, his shoulders shaking as he curled in the corner of his cell, the walls cold and unforgiving against his back.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I failed again. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” The tears came faster and he clung to Ruddiger, even though he didn’t know why Ruddiger was still here. He was giving up freedom, the world outside, the ability to run free and wherever he wanted.

He was giving all that up for Varian. For a boy who had failed everyone his entire life. For a friend who had pushed him aside. For someone who had turned him into a monster and no amount of apologies would ever make up for that.

Varian curled in his cell and cried , clinging to Ruddiger as his last sliver of comfort in a world where everyone had left him.

~*~

“He’s the one who captured the queen….”

“.... nearly killed the captain's daughter…”

“...attacked the princess…”

“... heard he killed his own father…”

He was used to the mutters by now. The whispers outside his cell. The ‘accidental’ shoves and pushes and kicks. The food brought for him somehow vanishing in transit. The night guards being just a little too loud for him to sleep comfortably (not that he slept much anyway).

He was used to it by now, and he refused to let them know they were getting to him. Slowly wearing away at his soul.

He deserved it, he knew. After everything he had done, he deserved worse really. Every bruise, every cut, every sleepless night - he deserved all that and more for what he had done.

Sometimes, he thought of Before. He thought of his father smiling at him after he had helped with the harvest. He thought of Rapunzel’s warm eyes. He thought of Cassandra actually smiling at him for the first time. He thought of Eugene, of finally meeting his childhood hero. Sometimes he thought of Before. But it hurt too much to think for long, to remember what he had thrown aside. To remember what he had lost. To remember how he had been abandoned.

It was better to focus on the now, on surviving the next day, on… on whatever came next. If there was going to be a next.

The door to the cell swung open and he looked up sharply, the now-familiar mask of anger and hardness taking over his expression. (Sometimes, it was exhausting keeping up that mask. Sometimes he wanted to break down and be a kid again. But he refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing that. Not yet, at least. They needed to wear him down a little more for that to happen.)

One of the guards stepped in with a tray of food, closing the door behind him. Varian watched him warily, waiting to see if this was just a food delivery visit, or if it was going to turn into something more. Ruddiger shifted from the bundle of fur he had been sleeping in on the other side of the cell, ears pricked and eyes narrowed as he watched.

The guard stepped closer and Varian instinctively curled a little more into himself, trying to be smaller, sensing that this wasn’t just a food delivery visit. Sure enough, the guard stepped forward, paused, and purposely stumbled, releasing the food.

Varian flinched as the food tray clattered on the ground, the sound sending his heart racing. He scowled, trying to appear far less on edge than he was feeling. The guard leaned close, an ugly smirk on his face.

“Whoops,” he said, in a voice that made it clear he had done that very deliberately. “C’mon, kid - you got your lunch. Eat up.” He stepped back, smirking. Varian’s eyes flicked briefly down to where the prison slop was spread across the stone floor, then back to the guard. “Too good for you then?” the guard asked.

Varian didn’t answer, forcing himself to keep eye contact with the guard, despite the bruise on his cheek that hadn’t faded from the last time he had done that. He refused to show weakness.

“What are you going to do then, kid?” the guard asked. He stepped across the room and Varian curled into himself more, hugging his knees, keeping his eyes locked with the guard, trying to settle his heart again. “Kill me? Vanish me with your dark magics?”

“Not magic,” Varian muttered, instantly cursing himself for doing so. It was better to be silent, to not give them anything to build on. Better to let them wear themselves out and leave. Speaking was always a bad idea - especially contradicting them.

“What was that?” the guard said, taking a step forward. He was big. Varian bit his cheek - hard - and kept up eye contact. “Are you cursing me?”

Don’t answer. Don’t answer. It was better to be silent. Maybe he’d get a few more bruises today, and then he’d be left alone again. If he spoke up again, it would likely be worse.

The guard’s hand shot out, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and hauling him up. Varian couldn’t help panic flashing across his face, a small noise of fear escaping. His legs left the ground, the guard’s face inches away from his own.

With a loud scream, Ruddiger appeared from nowhere, landing on the guard’s head. He was hissing, screeching, clawing at the guard’s helmet. With a cry of surprise, the guard staggered back, releasing Varian.

Varian landed heavily, gasping and scrambling quickly to the corner of the cell, the taste of blood in his mouth from his cheek. Ruddiger leapt to the ground in front of him, hackles raised, screaming loud enough to wake the dead at the guard. For a moment, the guard hesitated, then decided it wasn’t worth it. He let out a long snort, turning and making his way out of the room - stepping firmly into the centre of the spilt meal.

Varian was shaking as the cell door slammed shut. He pressed himself into the corner of the cell, wrapping his arms around himself and closing his eyes, trying to keep his breathing even. Ruddiger’s familiar warmth appeared beside him, pressing into his side. Varian reached up, pulling him close, breathing in his comforting smell.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice catching. Ruddiger trilled softly, pressing into him.

~*~

“So you’re the kid who kidnapped the queen. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Varian’s new cellmate was standing on the other side of the room, leaning casually against the wall. He was surprisingly well kept for a prisoner - his long hair flowing down his back, a well-groomed beard hugging his chin.

Varian didn’t answer him. He was sitting cross-legged on the bench opposite his new roommate, Ruddiger curled up in his lap. It was getting harder to appear casual and not retreat into himself, but something about this new prisoner made Varian think that his luck was about to change.

For better or worse, he wasn’t sure.

“I have to say, I’m impressed. I’m Andrew, by the way,” the man said. He pushed himself off the wall, moving to sit on the bench opposite Varian, perching on the edge. “And I have a proposition for you.”

Ruddiger growled, low in his chest - quiet enough for Varian to feel instead of hear. But despite the raccoon’s obvious dislike for the man, Varian couldn’t help but be intrigued. He wanted to get out, to leave behind the sleepless nights, the constant bruises, scrapes and cuts. He wanted to feel the wind again, to see the stars without the small, barred window blocking his view.

If this Andrew was going to be his way out, he was willing to listen.

“What?” he asked, shortly, not willing to give him any more. Ruddiger stopped growling, looking up at Varian. He ignored the raccoon, pressing a hand onto his head and petting him softly.

Andrew smiled, leaning back.

“I hear you’re good with machines - science. We might have a use for that.”

Science. It had been so long since he had been allowed to do anything alchemy related. People had been naming him magician for so long, part of him had almost started to believe it. He wanted to experiment again.

“I see that has you interested,” Andrew said and Varian quickly schooled his face back into its mask of no emotion. “I have friends, friends who are going to help me - and I think you are going to be the last piece of the puzzle.”

“I’m listening,” Varian said. He shifted forward, ignoring Ruddiger’s warning chatter. Ruddiger wasn’t the one dealing with the beatings, the hunger, the lack of sleep. Ruddiger wasn’t the one who was never going to be forgiven.

“My friends have a wand - it’s able to erase memories. We’re going to take over Corona - erase the memories of the king and wait until the princess comes back and we can own everything.”

Erase memories. The words danced before Varian, a lifeline in a sea of guilt. A light in the darkness he had been living in for the past few months.

Erase memories.

He could make them all forget.

He could make them forget he had kidnapped the queen.

He could make them forget he had betrayed them.

He could make them forget he had hurt so many people.

He could make them forgive him.

The sudden hope burst into his chest and he took in a quick breath. No one was going to forgive him - he had gone too far for that. But by erasing their memories, he could be someone again. He could…

He could have friends again.

“What do you want me to do?” he said. Andrew smiled, a smile that really should have put him on edge.

Ruddiger shifted nervously, chirping a warning, trying to pull his friend back from the dark path that had opened before him.

But Varian didn’t listen, taken in by the chance of erasing the mistakes of the past.

~*~

“Hey, Ruddiger, leave it,” Varian said absently. He was bent over the table, mask pulled up and goggles on as he carefully measured chemicals. (He was so close to making it work. Please, please if one of his experiments worked, let it be this one). Ruddiger chattered from across the table, one paw on a vial.

“I said, leave it,” Varian snapped, looking up. Ruddiger chirped, satisfied to have gained his attention and bounded across the table. Varian waved a hand at him. “C’mon, buddy, I have to finish this.”

Ruddiger trilled accusingly, gripping an arm and tugging at him. Varian scowled, pulling his mask down.

“You’ve been real unhelpful lately, you know that?” he said. Ruddiger glared at him. “Look, I know you don’t like Andrew. But I’m doing this, okay?”

Ruddiger chattered at him angrily.

“No! I’m not going to stop! This is my only chance, Ruddiger. Why don’t you get that?”

“Is the rat bothering you again?”

Andrew’s voice in the door caused Varian to blink, looking up.

“Uh, no no,” he said quickly. Ruddiger growled shortly as Andrew stepped into the lab, bounding in front of Varian. Varian pushed him aside in annoyance. “He’s just being a little bothersome today.” He paused, staring down at his hand as he opened and closed it. “Is this really a good idea?” he asked finally. “I mean… taking over. Making the citizens work like that. When the princess comes back she’ll -

“Hey, I thought you were cool, buddy,” Andrew said. He moved across the room, laying a hand on Varian’s shoulder. His touch sent a spark through Varian and he couldn’t help but lean into it slightly. “We can’t afford any distractions, alright?” Andrew crouched so he was eye level with Varian, lifting his other hand to lay that on his shoulder as well. Varian hesitated, glancing back at Ruddiger on the table.

The raccoon growled softly and Varian hesitated again. Part of him wondered if this really was a good idea. Erasing the memories of the king and queen was one thing - but the entire kingdom?

“You want them to forgive you, right?” Andrew said quietly, and Varian turned back to him, something twisting inside. He nodded slowly. “This is the only way. Get rid of the rat if it’s going to be a distraction. You don’t want to go back, do you?”

He stood, patting Varian on the shoulder and turning to leave. Varian looked at his feet as the door closed behind him, thoughts swirling inside. Andrew’s last words had sent a rush of panic through his whole body. Even the idea of going back made him terrified, the thought of returning to the cold stone walls, to the hunger and exhaustion and abuse of prison. He couldn’t go back.

No distractions.

It would only be for a short time - once he had the quiriniam perfected, Ruddiger’s memory would be lost as well and things could go back to normal. He took a deep breath, gripping his arm across his body and looking up at Ruddiger. The raccoon chirped, taking an uncertain step forward, concern clear on his face.

“Sorry, buddy,” Varian said, his voice hard. “But he’s right. If you’re going to be a distraction, I have to get rid of you.”

Ruddiger stepped back, trilling anxiously. But Varian didn’t stop to think, crossing the room and quickly scooping the raccoon up in his arms. He marched through the walls of the castle, holding Ruddiger firmly.

“I have to do this. Ruddiger is trying to stop me, I can’t let that happen. He has to go. Just until I’m finished. Just until things can go back to normal.”

The streets of Corona were empty as he ran through them, rain beginning to pour. He stopped at the bridge, holding Ruddiger up.

“It’s better this way, buddy,” he said. Ruddiger trilled, hurt clear in his voice. Varian shut his eyes and lowered the raccoon, placing him onto the cold stone of the path. “Go. Go, eat apples, climb trees, be a raccoon. You should have left long ago - so do it now. Go.”

Then, without seeing what Ruddiger did, he turned and ran. He ran back through the streets of Corona, telling himself this had to be done. There was no other way - no other way to make up for what he had done. Because he could never make up for what he had done, so he had to make them all forget.

Ruddiger sat on the cold stone, rain making his fur stick to his body, watching his friend abandon him. Watching his friend fall.

~*~

His father’s embrace was warm and Varian never wanted to leave. The casual touches his father so freely gave - a hand on his shoulder, a ruffle of his hair, a pat on his back - they made Varian feel more whole than he had for a long time.

It felt like some surreal dream he never wanted to wake up from. He had been alone for so long, to have his father back was almost too good to be true. To have Rapunzel’s trust again was even more surreal and sometimes, Varian wondered when it was all going to crumble around him.

It was strange, being back in their small house after everything that had happened. It was strange, being able to walk into the basement lab and not be faced with the stark reminder of his failure. It was strange to hear his father’s laugh again, to see his father smiling, walking, talking, alive.

He certainly didn’t deserve this second chance and he wondered why he had been given it. Part of him was too scared to ask for fear it would all be snatched away again and he would be back in the lab at the castle, working for the Saporians who had pretended to be his friends.

Or worse, in the small prison cell rapidly losing hope, losing who he was.

There was one more thing he had to do. Well, not really - there were many things he was going to have to do to make up for what he had done. To deserve the second chance he had been offered. But the first step in that direction was this.

A bag of apples by his side, he stepped out into the forest, glancing back once to make sure he could still see his father - to make sure his father was still there. Dad raised a hand as he caught Varian looking back and Varian returned the gesture, taking a deep breath and stepping into the shadows of the trees.

“Ruddiger?” he called, looking up, looking around, trying to catch the telltale rustle of bushes. “Ruddiger, you there buddy?”

He stepped deeper, adjusting the bag and pulling out an apple.

“Ruddiger?”

Silence greeting his calls and he felt a rush of guilt - anger - grief. He should never have sent Ruddiger away. He should have listened to Ruddiger in the first place.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” he called, almost a whisper.

The trees rustled and Varian’s heart leapt. A shadow flickered beside him, coming closer to the ground and then - emerging slowly from the shadows - Ruddiger appeared.

“Ruddiger!” he cried, stepping quickly forward. Ruddiger scurried backwards as he did, a wariness in the raccoon’s eyes Varian hadn’t seen in a long time. He took a deep breath, telling himself to take it slowly and sat, crossing his legs. “I don’t blame you,” he said quietly.

“I - I’m sorry, Ruddiger.” The raccoon bounded forward a few paces, grabbing the apple Varian rolled towards him, watching him. Listening. “I know that isn’t enough, But… I should have listened. You were right, and I’m sorry. I don’t expect you to come back - you probably have your own life out here, right?” he said with a slight laugh. Ruddiger took another step closer.

“I just wanted to apologise,” Varian said quietly. “To start… to start fixing things. So… I’m sorry. I’m sorry I used you when I attacked Corona. I’m sorry I abandoned you. I’m sorry I threw you aside and… and betrayed you.”

Tears were beginning to prick his eyes and he took a deep breath, wiping a hand across his face.

“Thank you for sticking with me,” he said quietly. “And I’m sorry I didn’t stick with you.”

Ruddiger chirped softly and Varian gave a small smile, tipping the bag and rolling out the rest of the apples. Then he began to stand, to leave and go home.

He was knocked back down by a blur of fur as Ruddiger bowled into him, curling into his arms. Varian gasped as the raccoon curled around his shoulder, butting him affectionately.

“Ruddiger?” he said quietly. Ruddiger chirped, crawling down his front and curling into his lap, looking up at him. Varian felt a lump in his throat - it felt good to apologise, yes, but he hadn’t expected to be forgiven.

He pulled the raccoon close, holding him tightly. They fit together perfectly, Ruddiger’s body warm and comfortable, familiar, comforting. He held Ruddiger and allowed himself the luxury of a few tears, tears because he had been forgiven.

Ruddiger purred happily, nuzzling his friend close. Part of him had been terrified Varian had fallen too far, that his young friend had fallen and was never going to be able to come back to the light. But now, sitting in a small patch of sunlight filtering through the trees, Ruddiger felt safe and warm and loved in his friend’s arms. Where he belonged.

~*~

Being terrified was draining. It wasn’t the first time, of course, but something about this magic-induced fear made everything a little worse. Maybe it was reliving all of his worst mistakes, maybe it was the fact that everyone was relying on him, maybe it was using his greatest mistake to save the kingdom.

Maybe it was because Ruddiger’s fur was stiff, his friend’s eyes frozen and still, unable to move, unable to even breath.

“Just like Dad,” a voice in his head whispered, accompanied by images the rocks made him see - the amber, slowly eating away at everyone he loved. The dark walls of the cell closing around him. His friends abandoning him again.

He gritted his teeth and kept moving, Rapunzel’s warmth beside him the only thing holding him together.

The sun was rising as they emerged from the tunnels, the mission complete. Varian felt exhausted, drained, tired. He wanted nothing more than to curl in a ball and sleep but he wasn’t sure what was going to be possible. Despite the exhaustion, he still felt on edge, unable to relax.

His father drew him into a warm hug, and Varian felt himself relax somewhat. He relaxed more so as Eugene ruffled his hair, as people smiled at him, saw him, not as a villain, not as an enemy, but as a hero.

Maybe he was beginning to earn his second chance after all.

It wasn’t until a grew ball of fur bowled into him that he let himself relax fully. Ruddiger pressed into him, crawling up and down, wrapping around his neck, giving him wet raccoon kisses. Varian held him close, burying himself in the comfort of his best friend.

He had been so afraid that it wouldn’t work. He had been so terrified the amber wouldn’t work and that even if it did, Ruddiger wouldn’t be freed. Again and again, as they walked through the tunnels he had seen Ruddiger - petrified and frozen. Terrified.

But now, Ruddiger’s fur warm against his skin, Varian closed his eyes and allowed himself to breathe. They clung to each other for a long time, reminding the other they were not alone.

Sleep easy when they returned home, Varian curled up on his bed, Ruddiger pressed tightly beside him.

~*~

Varian had managed to hold it together surprisingly well. Coming back from the tower was a bit of a blur. He was vaguely aware of Rapunzel’s warm hug, of Eugene crouching to make sure he was alright, of Angry and Catalina teasing him about some insignificant thing. It was nice, but he felt detached from everything, like it all belonged to a world he didn’t.

His father had pulled him into a warm hug when he returned home and Varian nearly broke down right there. Only months of maintaining his composure in front of others held him together and he forced a smile, convincing his father he was fine.

It wasn’t until he had escaped to the privacy of his room that he allowed himself to crack a little. He curled onto his bed, gripping his pillow and trying to keep his breathing even, trying to come back to the present.

A familiar warmth pressed into his side and he gladly replaced the pillow with Ruddiger’s warm fur, finally allowing himself to break fully in the presence of his friend. He sobbed silently, holding Ruddiger, letting it all out until he felt more like himself.

“I was scared,” he whispered. Ruddiger trilled evenly, comfortingly, and Varian kept talking. “I… it reminded me of prison. Cold, and dark and I… I was helpless. And… and Cass… she scared me but…” He hesitated, wiping a hand over his eye and pushing himself up into a sitting position. Ruddiger shifted off his lap, looking up at him.

“But most of all I - I was reminded…” He blinked a few times, trying to find the words. “Is that what I was like? Angry… so, so angry. So lost.” He said the last quietly, almost a whisper. Ruddiger stepped closer, standing up and laying a paw on his chest. Varian smiled down at him, pulling him into a hug.

“At least I had you,” he said quietly. “Cassandra is… she’s all alone. She’s going to do something she regrets…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, leaving the words hanging in the air as he found comfort in Ruddiger once again.

“Just I did.”

~*~

Ruddiger bounded in front of him as Varian moved through the camp, mentally checking through the preparation he would have to do. Dad had the helmet, at least he didn’t have to worry about that (he just hoped it wouldn’t be necessary. Please don’t let it be necessary.) He needed to pack a few more supplies, vials and chemicals in case he needed to fight, a few extra screws because those always went missing.

Ruddiger chirped loudly, taking a run around his feet and nearly knocking him over. He stumbled a few paces, bounding from foot to foot as Ruddiger scrambled up him, chattering in his face.

“Okay, okay!” Varian cried, plucking the racoon off his shoulder and holding him out so they could talk better. “What’s up?”

There was a glint in Ruddiger’s eye that made Varian a little nervous - a hardness, a determination. Ruddiger squirmed out of his hands, bounding across his arms and to the ground. He puffed out his tail and snarled, swiping a paw in front of him.

“Wha - no,” Varian said, suddenly realising what Ruddiger was saying. “No, no I’m not doing that to you. Not again.”

Ruddiger chattered, sitting and wrapping his tail around his paws. Varian shook his head, crouching in front of the raccoon.

“I can’t do that to you again! You hated it last time. I’m sorry about last time.”

Ruddiger stepped forward slowly, raising a paw to place it on Varian’s cheek. He trilled softly, comfortingly and Varian hesitated.

“I don’t…” He closed his eyes, lowering his head. “Are you sure?” he asked quietly. “I - I can make the formula again but… it’s your choice this time.”

Ruddiger chattered in affirmative, and Varian took a deep, shaky breath.

“Alright,” he said. Ruddiger chirped, bounding up his arm and settling about his shoulder. Varian squared his jaw, moving to the small workbench he had set up as a laboratory while they prepared for the attack.

He settled in, mixing chemicals, preparing the formula. Readying to make his friend a monster again.

~*~

He woke in the middle of the night. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence, though his nightly nightmares had slowly changed to weekly and then fortnightly as the kingdom settled back to normal - whatever that was - after Zhan Tiri’s attack. But this time, it wasn’t a nightmare that had Varian blinking awake, peering around his dark room.

He resisted the urge to rush out of the room and check up on his father - those nights had been frequent in the days after his father had been freed. But he knew Dad was sleeping in just the next room, could hear the soft snores drifting through the house if he listened hard enough.

Still unsure of what had woken him, he scanned the room for anything that might have disturbed his rest. Soft moonlight shone through a gap in the windows, lighting a few things and finally, Varian’s eyes landed on Ruddiger.

The raccoon was curled in a tight ball at the end of Varian’s bed. He was shaking slightly, kicking occasionally. A few muffled noises escaped the small animal - noises Varian knew well because he had woken many times with the same soft sounds on his lips.

He pushed his covers aside and crawled to the end of the bed, gently laying a hand on Ruddiger’s fur.

“Hey, buddy,” he said softly. Many nights, once freed and… before, Ruddiger had nosed him awake from a nightmare, had curled up close as his demons chased him through his sleep. Now Varian was more than happy to return the favour.

Ruddiger started, sitting up suddenly, fur puffed out and eyes flickering with concern. Varian laid a hand on his back, making soft, comforting noises. Meaningless chatter. Slowly, Ruddiger began to relax, and Varian pulled him closer.

He pushed himself back across the bed, slipping his legs back under the covers. Ruddiger was still shaking slightly, curled close to Varian.

“My turn to comfort you,” Varian said quietly, lying back down with Ruddiger curled close to his chest. They lay like that for a long time, Ruddiger’s shaking slowly fading. Finally, he shifted, pressing his nose into Varian’s chin and letting out a long huff.

Varian smiled, wrapping his arms around his friend’s familiar shape. It wasn’t long until they both slowly drifted off to sleep, finding comfort in each other like they had always done.

#tangled #rapunzel's tangled adventures #tangled the series #tts #rta #varian #ruddiger #angst #hurt/comfort #whump #fanfic #writing #fluff #comfort #i have EMOTIONS about these two nerds #my writing

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