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evanbuckley-heartofgold · 5 years ago

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The Love We Deserve

Prompt: “You love me as if I deserve you.” (I'm here for the angst you're about to rain down on me)

Jamie (@doctornineandthreequarters) wanted angst so I’m delivering almost 3k of angst. You’re welcome. And I’m also going to tag @thisissirius because they are an amazing writer and said it was okay to tag them in fics so here you go!

Read on ao3

Eddie prides himself on his ability to read others. It is especially handy on calls where he can say the right thing to keep the person he’s trying to help calm. But it is even more helpful when it comes to his boyfriend.

Buck wears his heart on his sleeve, he always has, but there are some things Buck tries so desperately to hide from the light of the world.

Eddie notices that Buck starts hiding his feelings more, using smiles and jokes to disguise obvious hurt and pain boiling beneath the surface. At first, Eddie tries to fix the problem, he gently asks if something is wrong, only to be met with a confused look and Buck saying that everything is just peachy. When that doesn’t work, Eddie moves onto his plan b: giving Buck more affection, trying to draw him out to tell him what’s going on.

The thing about Buck is that he has never been shy with his affection and how tactile he is. Eddie will often wake up in the mornings to find Buck curled completely around him and Buck will hold his hand, kiss his cheek, hug him no matter where they are. Which is why it worries Eddie when his boyfriend starts pulling away from him and tensing when he touches him. So Eddie pulls back on his affection. When Eddie asks if Buck is alright he will just smile and say everything is fine.

Buck has never been a good liar.

Eddie runs in his mind over and over again what could possibly be wrong, but he can’t come up with a single thing. He thought he and Buck were good, that they had overcome all their issues when they confessed their feelings. Obviously that was wrong. Abuela would tell him that he needs to stop seeing the world in black and white, and she’s right.

“You should just talk to him,” Hen tells him, squeezing his leg. They’re sitting in the living room of the firehouse, the team all pitching in to give Eddie much needed advice. “Ask him what’s going on. Waiting for him to come to you is never going to work with him.”

“She’s right,” Bobby tells him from where he sits on the couch. “Buck will never admit he’s hurting until someone makes him.”

Eddie sighs, “I tried to talk to him, but he just keeps telling me that everything is okay. But then he keeps being distant.” Eddie shakes his head, “I don’t think I’ve hugged him in a week.”

“Oh,” Hen is taken aback, it’s well known in the 118 that Buck thrives on affection.

“I’m so worried about him,” Eddie admits. Eddie over at Hen and Chim pleadingly, “What if he’s going to break up with me? What if that’s what this is about?”

“Eddie...” Bobby sits down beside Eddie and squeezes his shoulder. “I’m sure that’s not it. Buck loves you so much.”

Eddie nods and wipes his eyes, “I know, I know. I just...I’m so worried.”

“I know,” Hen says, leaning across to him. “But you need to talk to him.” She checks her watch, “His shift is about to end, why don’t you go catch him before he leaves?”

Eddie nods again, “Okay, yeah, you’re right. I’ll go.” Chim pats him on the back as he walks past him. As Eddie jogs down the stairs and he sees Buck tossing his bag over his shoulder. “Buck! Hold up!” Buck turns around, smiling when he sees Eddie. Eddie feels a piercing cold in his chest when he discovers that the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“What’s up?” Buck asks when Eddie is standing in front of him.

“Can we talk?”

Buck frowns, “We can talk at home can’t we?”

Eddie shakes his head, “My shift doesn’t end until tomorrow morning and I just want to talk before then.” Buck nods for him to continue. “What’s going on with you?” Eddie asks gently. “I can tell that you’ve been upset these past few weeks and you keep telling me you’re fine-”

“I am-”

“You’re not,” Eddie insists. “Buck, please tell me what’s wrong. I’m really worried about you.”

Buck sighs and looks up at the ceiling before looking down at his shoes and takes a deep breath. “I’ve just been feeling…” Buck abandons that train of thought and instead says, “I’ve been noticing things about our relationship recently and I guess it’s been making me act a little off around you, I’m sorry.”

Eddie frowns, “Like what? Buck, what are you talking about?”

Buck takes a long breath, “You love me as if I deserve you.” He says it with such conviction that Eddie instantly knows that Buck believes this to be true.

“Buck,” Eddie’s voice is unbearably soft as he brings his hand up to touch Buck’s cheek where tears are already starting to fall. “You do deserve-” Before Eddie can say anything more, Buck steps out of his reach, Eddie’s hand falling between them.

“Don’t lie to me, Eds. I have never deserved you.” Buck bites his lip as the tears just keep falling and Eddie finds his eyes misty as well. “You are such a good man, a veteran, and a damn good firefighter. And I-I’m...not.” Eddie is just about to jump in and protest, but Buck says, “I didn’t want to do this here, but I don’t think I can do this anymore.” Eddie’s heart grows heavy in his chest. Does he really mean that? “I can’t keep waiting for the other shoe to drop and waiting for you to realize how much of a fuck up I am. I’m sorry, Eddie.” Buck lets his head drop as he turns to walk out of the station.

“Buck, wait!” Eddie grabs his hand, fighting back his tears. He has to make this right. “Please don’t go, let’s talk. Okay? Let’s figure out what’s going on in here.” Eddie taps Buck’s temple. When Buck just looks at him blankly, Eddie says, “I love you, Evan.”

“Don’t,” Buck says, wincing as if the words have caused him physical pain. “Please don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

“You’re not breaking up with me, Evan Buckley,” Eddie’s voice is strong though his eyes are filled with tears. The love of his life is about to leave him. “We’re in this together. I need you, Chris needs you.”

Buck gives him a sad smile, “No, you don’t. I love you too, Eddie. But I’m-I’m not the man you deserve.” He shakes himself out of Eddie’s grasp and starts walking towards the doors of the station once more, taking Eddie’s heart with him.

“Yes, you are!” Eddie shouts after him. “Please, Buck.”

Buck doesn’t turn around and the second the door closes behind him, Eddie falls to his knees sobbing. Hen is at his side in an instant, pulling him and holding him as he sobs. Eddie’s chest hurts so much, how can Buck think that? Of course Buck deserves him. Buck is the only man he has ever loved, how can he do this to him? Did Eddie do something or say something to make Buck think like that?

Eddie distantly notices that Bobby and Chim are kneeling beside him as well, all three of them hugging him. Eddie lets the team hold him as he desperately sobs. The love of his life is gone.

“Shh,” Hen soothes, running her hand through his hair. “You’re okay.”

Eddie shakes his head, “No, I’m not.”

Bobby hauls him up and hugs Eddie tightly. Eddie clings to him soaking in any comfort offered to him. He can feel the rumbles in Bobby’s chest as he talks, but Eddie doesn’t hear a word of it. He wants Buck to burst through the doors and pull him into his arms and tell him that everything will be okay. But Eddie knows that won’t happen.

The bell rings.

Bobby looks down at Eddie apprehensively, “Kid...”

“I’m coming,” Eddie jumps to his feet along with the rest of the team, ignoring the worried looks they all give him. Eddie takes a deep breath, “Please, Bobby. I don’t have to help just let me come.”

Bobby sighs, “Get in the truck.”

...

“Okay, guys,” Bobby looks over the back of his seat. Hen has her hand in Eddie’s, running her thumb in soft circles on the back of his hand. “We have a car crash, driver one was t-boned in the middle of an intersection by driver two. Bystander called 9-1-1, said driver one is not responding but is still alive and driver two is perfectly fine except for a broken nose.” The team nods in understanding. And not even five minutes later, they arrive. “Okay, let’s go!”

Hen and Chim rush out first, checking over the driver still in the car. As Eddie starts to follow them, he feels all the air seize from his lungs. That’s Buck’s jeep. Bobby grabs him around the waist to keep him from falling.

“Cap!” Chim calls from where he stands by the passenger side window of the totaled car, his face distraught. “It’s Buck!”

“Eddie,” Bobby says lowly. “Why don’t you go sit in the truck-”

“I need to help,” Eddie interrupts. “Please, cap. Let me help him.”

Bobby sighs, “Okay.” With Bobby’s blessing, Eddie runs over to the car nearly falling again when he sees Buck through the passenger side window. He’s unconscious, his head is lolled against his neck and his face is coated with blood from the broken glass. Eddie can see that the door is crushed into Buck’s left side.

“Eddie, get the jaws!” Bobby orders, pulling the firefighter out of his reverie. Eddie stumbles into motion, running back to the truck and pulling the hatch open to grab the jaws. As his feet pound against the asphalt, Eddie forces himself to breathe, to think of this as any other accident, not one involving the love of his life who may or may not have broken up with him not even an hour ago.

As Bobby slots the jaws in the door, Eddie steps back, silently praying for Buck to be alright. He just needs to live, that’s all. Eddie can live without him, he can live with Buck breaking up with him. He can’t live with Buck being gone.

Buck groans as the door is pulled away from him, “E-Ed...” Buck tries to say.

Eddie is at his side the second the door falls away, taking Buck’s hand, “I’m right here, Evan.”

“I-I’m so-sorry,” Buck manages to say, his voice so quiet Eddie has to strain to hear him. Just as Buck mutters the final syllable, he goes slack in his seat.

“Buck!” Eddie exclaims, he tries to move closer to his boyfriend, but Bobby grabs him by the waist and drags him away to let Hen and Chim get to Buck. Eddie fights Bobby, pulling against him to try to get back, Buck needs him, he’s hurt.

But Bobby doesn’t let go. He keeps his grip tight, allowing Eddie to watch what’s happening, but not interfere.

Buck is lifted out of the car and placed on the backboard, Hen and Chim count to three before rushing to the ambulance. Only then does Bobby let Eddie go and jump into the ambulance after them.

Eddie stares down at Buck, not even daring to breathe as Hen starts taking care of him. He grabs Buck’s hand and squeezes, hoping that Buck will return the gesture. He doesn’t.

...

Buck wakes up slowly. His body feels like his veins are filled with lead, though his head feels warm and soft. He thinks the room is silent, but then he hears an annoying little beeping. Buck scrunches up his nose, someone should turn that off.

He blinks his eyes open to find himself in a brightly lit hospital room. At first he thinks the room is empty but when he looks to his right he sees Eddie, fast asleep with his head pillowed on the bed beside him. Eddie’s hand is in his own and from the looks of him he’s been there for a while.

And Buck remembers everything.

Their fight, him leaving, the car crash. Pain runs through his chest, but Buck knows that it’s a manifestation of his emotional turmoil, rather than true pain. He told Eddie he was done, that they were done. Buck has never regretted something more than those words. But his reason for them still rings true.

Buck tentatively reaches out and touches Eddie’s cheek. When Eddie doesn’t stir, Buck moves his hand through Eddie’s hair, a trick he has used many times and he knows it is one of the only ways to wake Eddie up without him being grumpy. Sure enough, Eddie starts making his soft waking up noises.

Eddie lifts his head groggily and when he sees Buck awake and looking down at him, he sits straight upright. “Buck,” he breathes almost reverently. Then before Buck knows what’s happening, Eddie is on top of him, hugging him tightly. Buck tentatively returns the embrace, not knowing if his touch will be welcome after what he said.

But Eddie just cries into his shoulder, “I thought you were dead, Evan. I-I saw you in the car and I could only think about how our last words would have been fighting and I could never forgive myself if you were to die without knowing how much I love you.”

“Eds,” Buck tries. But Eddie just shakes his head and sits up, taking Buck’s hands and ignoring his falling tears.

“Buck, you do deserve me,” Eddie looks straight into Buck’s eyes.

“Do we have to do this now?” Buck protests.

Eddie gives him a look, “Are you in any pain?” Buck shakes his head. “Then we’re doing this now when you can’t run away, and because I thought you were dead.”

Buck sighs and shakes his head, “I’m sorry-”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “Don’t try to apologize for almost dying.”

Buck takes Eddie’s hand to quiet him. “Listen, Eddie. You’re-you’re a great man, you’re a veteran and a damn good dad. Who am I compared to you? I don’t deserve you.”

“You’re the love of my life,” Eddie says simply. He puts a hand on Buck’s cheek and makes Buck look at him. “You’re a badass firefighter with a big heart. You wear your emotions on your sleeve and you are a hero.” Eddie taps Buck’s chest. “You are a great dad to my son-”

“I’m not-”

“I’m not done yet,” Eddie shushes him. “You are a hero, Evan Buckley. You have helped so many people and you are my best friend. I love you so much even if you take too many risks and get yourself landed in the hospital far too many times for my taste, I love you. You deserve me, Evan. You always will.” Eddie uses his thumb to wipe away some of Buck’s tears. Buck reaches up and holds onto Eddie’s wrist as he starts to cry in earnest. Eddie softens and opens his arms for Buck to fall into.

He holds onto his boyfriend tightly as Buck sobs heavily into his chest, “You really mean that?” Buck says.

Eddie nods, “Of course, amor. I mean every word. You and Chris mean the world to me. I hate that you thought that you’re not enough for me but I’m here to help you.”

“Thank you,” Buck sits up a moment later, using the heels of his hands to mop up his tears. “I love you too.” Eddie smiles and gives Buck a soft kiss.

“What’s the damage?” Buck asks looking down at himself and sighing.

Eddie sighs, “Two broken ribs, grade two concussion, some cuts and bruises.” Eddie smiles, “You were really lucky. Feel any pain?”

Buck nods, “A little bit. I don’t think crying helped.”

Eddie gives him a gentle smile, “I’m sure it didn’t.” He presses the call button for the nurse and after she comes and delivers Buck more pain meds, Buck relaxes back into the bed.

“I know a few people who are waiting very patiently outside to come and see you,” Eddie says with a smile. “Including a very worried little boy.”

Buck smiles at that, “You can bring them in.” Eddie squeezes his hand and gets up to do so, but stops just before he gets to the door.

Turning around to face Buck again, Eddie asks, “Are we okay?”

Buck nods, “Yeah, I think we are.”

It takes time, months even, for Buck to truly believe that he is deserving of his life. But in the end he is grateful for his family and for Eddie who keeps picking him up when he falls.

#my fic #911 #911 on fox #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 fic #bobby nash #henrietta wilson #howie han #buddie #buck/eddie #buddie fic #fire fam

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alterrune · 4 years ago

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ENTRY 3: PILFERING THE TEMPLE - PART 2

(We see Alter, out of breath from sprinting through the temple's entryway, eyeing a rock that has a red glow around it. It's the treasure that he is looking for.)

"Oh hell yes. Come to papa-"

(Suddenly, Alter recieves a sweep-kick from behind, knocking him down!)

"I'm afraid you won't be doing that. Surprised you managed to knock me down earlier."

(Alter groans in both pain and annoyance, then gets up, facing a man wearing red headphones and a piloteer's outfit.)

"Charles Calvin, I assume?"

"That's right. And I won't allow the Toppats to use the Alter Rune, it should be in the hands of the government. By the way, you didn't think we'd leave our guns behind without noticing, right?"

(Alter looks at Charles with a look of confusion at first, then he realizes what the pilot means by that. He groans in exasperation as he grabs his backpack, whips out the assault rifles he grabbed earlier, and sees a little LED light blinking on each guns' stock. Tracking devices...of course they'd have tracking devices. He admits to himself that he had walked right into that one. He quickly slams his fist hard into the LEDs on each gun, crushing the tracking devices so that his location wouldn't be given away more than it already was.)

"With the help of The Wall's own muscle, Grigori, we're going to take you down."

"Oh, no no...The Wall wants it for ourselves."

(Grigori pulls out a pistol and aims it at Charles' head. Alter tries to run for the rune while he's distracted, but he quickly aims his gun at Alter as well.)

"Heh heh...Don't think I have forgotten about you, Toppat. That rune is OURS."

"No. It's ours. RUPERT, GENERAL, NOW!!!"

(Rupert Price and General Galeforce, armed to the teeth, crash through the roof of the temple. In response, Grigori aims a flare gun into the air, and after firing it off, Dmitri, the head of The Wall, falls into the hole the government had just made. A firefight soon follows, with Dmitri tackling Galeforce and a scuffle following suit.)

The rune will be property of The Wall! No, the Government needs it! You shut your mouth, General! I'll shut my mouth after I put you in a holding cell for BETRAYING US!

(As the chaos unfolds, Alter pulls out his phone and quickly contacts Henry again.)

HENRY, BOTH THE GOVERNMENT AND THE WALL FOUND ME AND CALLED IN REINFORCEMENTS! I NEED SOME ASSISTANCE ASAP, OTHERWISE I'M BONED!

Alrighty, calling assistance in now. You might wanna duck.

(Alter does what he is asked, and suddenly multiple sniper shots go off from the airship. First, Dmitri and Grigori are shot in the head, killing them. Then, Galeforce recieves two shots in each leg, causing him to be unable to move. Finally, Charles and Rupert both get shot in the stomach, which makes them clench their guts in pain. It isn't a fatal wound, but it still hurts like hell for them. Suddenly, the Toppat jumps from the ship without a parachute, and lands on his feet, perfectly fine aside from the ground cracked from his landing. He walks over to Rupert, and aims a fully loaded MAC-10 at his head.)

"D-Dave? Is...is that you?"

"Yes it is, Rupert. I've been meaning to find you for nearly a year now, and you just fell right into my lap."

"Wait...what's with the fancy h---OH MY GOD. You're...you're with THEM now. The Toppats...Why would you join their side, Dave?"

"You think I'm stupid? The government is full of absolute crap, and I finally realized it after being locked up in their brig for over TWO GODDAMN YEARS. You never came to look for me. You were just worried about your Government image. I joined them when I realized that you, and the rest of the goddamn government, are just ASSHOLES who only care about their image!!!"

(Rupert looks at Dave, then at the General, then does something Dave wasn't expecting-he tosses his military hat to the ground and empties an entire ammo clip into it.)

"Dave...I never cared about the Government. I cared about YOU."

(He dashes toward both Charles and Galeforce, and swiftly pistol-whips them, knocking them out cold.)

"C'mon. Take me to the airship. I'm joining the Toppats...also, where's their medical bay? I still need to take care of the bullet in my gut..."

(After Dave and Rupert are taken to the airship, Alter realizes that all of the distractions are finally gone! He quickly grabs the rune, but when as soon as it's taken off the pedistal it was resting on, it zaps him with a red beam of energy. Alter is suddenly taken to a strange all-white void, where a GIANT version of the Alter Rune towers over him.)

WE MEET AT LAST, KYLE CROSS.

How do you know my real name?!

I AM THE ALTER RUNE. I KNOW ALL.

Okay, well, I guess that makes sense. But what was with the beam you shot at my head?

I HAVE GIVEN YOU THE POWERS OF THE ALTER RUNE. YOU NOW POSSESS THE ABILITY TO ALTER ANYTHING ON THIS EARTH AND BEYOND.

Uh...could I give anyone else my powers?

AS LONG AS THEY ARE ON YOUR SIDE, KYLE CROSS. YOU ARE AFFILIATED WITH THE TOPPAT CLAN, SO YOU CAN GIVE ANYONE IN THE CLAN SIMILAR POWERS, SUCH AS YOUR MOTHER, CAROL CROSS.

How did--? Wait, nevermind, I know the answer already. Hey, before I go, one more question. The Toppats are probably gonna want the version of you that doesn't talk...I didn't absorb the rock by getting these powers, did I?

NO YOU DID NOT. THE RUNE IS STILL INTACT. ENJOY YOUR NEW POWERS, KYLE CROSS.

(With that, Kyle [Alter] snaps back to reality. He quickly pulls out a photo of himself and his mother, Carol Cross.)

How the hell did that rock know about Mom...? Ugh...I'll have to think about that later. Right now, I have to get back onto the airship.

(A rope extends downward from the ship. Alter latches onto it and, after giving it a tug, flies away with the airship.)

END OF "ENTRY_3"

7 BIO(S) FOUND: "GENERAL_GALEFORCE", "CHARLES_CALVIN", "DAVE_PANPA", "RUPERT_PRICE", "DMITRI_JOHANNES_PETROV", "GRIGORI_OLYAT", "CAROL_CROSS"

>DOWNLOAD "ENTRY_4"

DOWNLOAD INITIATED...

#lorebuilding #entry 3 #altering the outcome

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babybuckleydiaz · 5 years ago

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Can you write something where Buck deals with all the trauma that came from the thoughtst of losing his family. Like he thought he lost Chris in the tsunami, then he thought he is gonna lose Bobby bc he is gonna get ill, then Maddie when the dispatch center was taken,and finally he thought he was gonna lose Eddie too. And it was just all too much and he started falling apart but firefam notices and helps him through

Warnings: swearing, insomnia, mentions of the therapist from season one, nightmares, spoilers. established buddie, hurt comfort.

Okay, so it’s currently 4am and I’ve finally finished this after so long. It’s a long one, my guys. Its about 6k words long. And I’m not happy with some of it, but I haven’t posted a prompt fill in ages so I really wanted to get this out. I really did enjoy writing it though, in more of a 5 +1 style. So, thank you so much for the prompts and I am so sorry if it’s not at all what you wanted, but I really hope that you like it. Thank you so much for reading, guys

also on ao3, since this is a long fic

BOBBY

“Hey, kid. Go get some rest.” When the order comes, Bobby voice is nothing but gentle and concerned with a hand resting on Buck’s shoulder, eyes searching the younger’s man face with something akin to worry. The team wasn’t even half way through a twenty four hour shift, and today has been nothing but exhausting call after exhausting call; it was obvious to even the untrained eye that the younger firefighter was overflowing with a bone deep tiredness. And for a moment, Bobby thinks that Buck is going to agree with him and do as is asked; but all he receives is a small shake of the head.

“Nah, Cap. I’m not tired.” The excuse is weak to even Buck’s ears, and it’s obvious by the raised eyebrow that he gets that Bobby doesn’t believe a word that he is saying; the worry growing tenfold. The circles under Buck’s eyes are dark and deep, movements still as his limbs screamed for a moment of anything similar to rest; mind already having gone into overdrive. “I slept earlier.” Bobby isn’t stupid, he’s far from it, and he’s able to see exactly what the younger man is doing. Buck knows that Bobby is able to read him easily, can see when he’s lying but he’s giving his Captain a chance to just forget about this conversation and sweep it under the rug. No way in hell was Bobby going to do that though, not when it would put lives, including Buck’s own, in risk by allowing an exhausted firefighter on the front line.

“We both know that’s bullshit, son.” Bluntly expressed Bobby, and he sees how Buck’s shoulder’s sag and his entire body seems to deflate at the breath of laughter that escapes his lips. “Talk to me, Buck. What’s going on?” Buck looks up from where he had shifted his attention to the ground, and he’s searching Bobby face for any sign that he doesn’t mean to concern that is obvious in his voice when he speaks. But he finds nothing but worry on the face of his Captain, but he shakes his head as he paints a sad and small smile across his face.

“Its fine, Bobby. I’m fine, don’t worry about me.”

Bobby wasn’t going to let it go because he could see as clear as day that whatever was going on in Buck’s head was affecting him, and as someone who loves the kid like family he can’t allow him to continue like this. “It’s a bit late for that, kiddo. You’re family and I’m always going to worry.” Explained Bobby in a tone that he didn’t regret letting this firehouse become a home, that he loved being able to come into work and being around people he loved and he knew loved him. And he worried about each and every one of them; nothing would or could ever change that. It was his job, as a Captain and as a friend to each of them.

“It’s stupid; I’m gonna go take that nap.” But Bobby could see straight through the lie that Buck had just told, that the younger man wouldn’t sleep and would instead be staring at the ceiling until the alarm blared through the firehouse. “Buck…” Bobby didn’t want to drop the conversation when something was obviously wrong, but he knew that if he kept pushing that Buck could completely close off; and that was something that he didn’t want to happen. “Look, Bobby.” Began the younger man, an understanding yet strained smile on his face, and Bobby misses the ones where Buck smiles as brightly as the sun.

“I know you’re concern, and I appreciate it, but I’m okay. I’m dealing with it.”

Bobby had no idea what ‘it’ would even begin to be, but whatever it was, it was clear to see that Buck wasn’t dealing with it at all; at least not in a way that could be considered healthy. Bobby was certain that even a blind man would be able to see that Buck was struggling with whatever was going on in that head of his. And the older man won’t lie, it’s killing him to know that Buck feels as though this is something he can’t get help for, that he feels like he has to bury and pretend that it isn’t there. “You’re not dealing with anything, son.”

Buck freezes as he sighs, because Bobby’s tone isn’t even remotely judgemental or annoyed at the brick wall he’s seemed to hit in this conversation; instead it filled with an understanding and worry for the younger man. There’s nothing but silence between the two men for a moment, Bobby praying to anyone who would listen that the man in front of him would reach out for the help that he so obviously needed but wasn’t going to seek out on his own. “I’ll be fine, Cap.” And when Buck had spoken his tone was tired, sounded far too wrecked for someone of his age but Bobby can’t blame him, because Buck has seen far too much and been through more in his short life.

“Just…” Bobby begins, pausing and allowing his voice to trail off for a moment as he thinks about what to say, what could he possibly say anyway to help the man he loved as his own son? “Just try and get some sleep, please?” It what he settles on, because there isn’t much he can do when Buck won’t open up to him, but the most he can do is allow the kid to know that he cares and he’s in his corner should the younger man need him. And Buck can understand what he means through the words, Bobby can tell. Because the smile that Buck sends him may be small and tired, but it’s real and shows his appreciation for what his Captain was trying to achieve here.

“Sure thing, boss.”

Watching him go, Bobby doesn’t even bothering admitting to the younger man that he can tell Buck wasn’t going to even begin to try and allow his mind the peacefulness of rest; he remains silent. “Damn it, kid.” Bobby curses silently, wishing that there had been something more he could have done or said that would have allowed the kid to feel as though he could share whatever was troubling him.

Because whatever that was bothering the firefighter was drowning him, and it’s was clear to the captain that Buck was struggling to stay afloat of his own thoughts; they we’re ruining him. Briefly, Bobby finds himself wondering if Athena would have had any more luck had she been in this conversation, if anyone else would have gotten the other man to open up and share what was holding him down.

HEN

“Come on, man. Talk to me.” There’s a pleading done in Hen’s voice when she speaks, taking the time to wait for a moment where it could just be her and Buck alone. They’re currently in front of their fire truck, restocking the medical supply when Hen decides that she’s finally try and get to the bottom of whatever was weighing the younger man down. In response to what had been said, Buck just sighs as he stops whatever he is doing, placing the bandages that he had in his hand onto the truck; barely looking at Hen when he faces her.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Hen.” That’s a lie, and Hen knows that Buck is aware that she isn’t dumb nor would she fall for what he had said to her. “I’m perfectly fine.” He added on, seeing her disbelieving look when he finally raises his head to meet her eyes, giving her a smile that would convince anyone who didn’t know him as well as she did. Buck is her best friend, someone that means the world to her and she was able to read the younger man like an open book without ever really trying. “I’m not blind, Buck. I know you, and I can see something is killing you, man.” She explained in a tone softer that what she would usually use, but this is serious and Hen wants Buck to know that he can talk to her about anything plaguing his troubled mind.

“Hen, I’m fine. I don’t need to make everything about me.”

That silences Hen for a moment as she frowns deeply at the other man standing in front of her, because there was more meaning behind his words that what Buck was even aware of. And all Hen can think about is the number of times people have accused Buck of making everything about himself; and how fucking wrong they were to event think that.

But Buck is allowed to be selfish, to do things simply because he wants them for himself. There is nothing wrong with that and it’s so perfectly human of him to do for once. She inwardly winces; because the last time Buck had done something to benefit him had been when he filed the lawsuit; something she strongly sided with him about. He was being kept from his job and he had every single right to fight like damn hell to get back to it. “It’s not selfish to unburden yourself by talking to a friend.” Responds Hen, not really knowing what else she could have said to try and get her point across.

“Look Buck, I love you.” She adds on, stepping forward and reaching out to take one of Buck’s hands tightly within her own, not mentioning that she can feel them tremble in her grip. “And I know that something is going on, okay? And I want to help you because you’re my family.” Buck is looking at her now, the faintest trace of a frown on his brows as he bites into his lower lip in thought. “I want to help you because I love you so much.” She concluded gently, an encouraging smile gracing her face as she pulls her friend into a hug.

She can feel how Buck seems to melt into her touch, body completely sagging as he wraps arms around her in response to the action.

“I-I’m fine.” And this time when he says it, Hen can see that he is talking to himself instead of her; forcing himself to believe it the more that he said it. “You’re not, and you’re allowed to not be okay.” Whispered Hen, something that only Buck could hear because it was meant for his ears only. “And it’s okay to ask for help, to reach out to someone else.” Buck nods against her shoulder, sighing as he pulls away from the safety of his friend’s arms and gives Hen the tiniest and saddest smile she has ever seen on his face.

“It’s just… I-“ Shaking his head and laughing something humourless, reaching up to rub angrily at his eyes when he felt tears burn in them, he stops himself speaking.

“I’m scared.” Buck’s voice sounds so broken at his own admission, choked up and small. Hen looks at him then, really looks at him and sees the tears in his eyes and the trembling of his hands. “Scared? Of what, Buckaroo?” She pries patiently, her words free of judgement and waiting for Buck to gather his own thoughts. But Buck stays silent for a while, for a long moment that Hen thinks he’s going to clam up and brush off his own declining mental health like he’s being doing for so long now. But still, Hen waits.

Buck Hen never gets to hear what Buck as going to say when he opens his mouth to speak, because it’s in that moment that the alarms decide to sound, jolting the both of them out of their moment. “Forget it, I’m fine.” Buck quickly brushes off, closing up the truck against and making his way towards his turnout uniform with hurried steps, and Hen can’t help but curse every God in existence for that. She knows that had been the only chance she had for Buck to talk to her, and that moment had been taken away before she could get any answers.

“Fuck!” She hisses angrily, the annoyance on her face as she runs up to get prepared as well while thinking about what Buck was going to admit; what would he be scared of?

CHIMNEY

“Hey, did you get any sleep?” The concern is clear in Chimney’s voice when he sits up in his bunk, eyes having gone straight to Buck’s and seeing the man in the same position as hours ago. On his back, arms behind his head and eyes staring at the ceiling but unseeing; the clear need for sleep written all over his face despite it all. And it worries him, because it’s clear that the man he loves like a little brother is struggling and suffering; and despite his nature of jest and laughter, Chimney found himself so concerned.

At the sound of the sudden whisper, being mindful of the still sleeping Hen and Eddie, Buck shifts his eyes to find Chimney looking at him with a deep frown. Shrugging his shoulders, Buck pushes himself into a sitting position, running a hand down his face and through his hair. “I don’t know, I don’t think so.” Frowning deeply at what had been his answer, Chimney moves to sit on the vacant space on Buck’s bunk; wanting to talk about this while he had the chance. “Hey, what’s going on? What do you mean, you don’t know?” Chimney presses, unsure if he’s asking as a friend or as a paramedic concerned about someone’s health. He doesn��t know, maybe it could be both.

“I dozed off, I think. But I just… can’t sleep.” There’s more to it than that, Chimney is well aware. But for now, he’s going to work with the information that Buck is giving him and dig a little deeper to try and find some more. “Come on, kid. Talk to dear old big brother Chimney.” The older man smiled, and he feels some little sentiment of relief when Buck snorts at his joke and rolls his eyes with something akin to a happy expression. “Oh shut up, man.” Responds the younger, leaning over and shoving his friend on the shoulder that Chimney barely reacts to, because now that he’s looking at his friend he sees the thinks that Hen had been talking about.

Buck looks absolutely exhausted, skin paler than normal with permanently tired eyes and dark circles to match.

“Jeez, buckaroo. When what the last time you actually slept?” And just like that, Buck’s smile drops from his face and instead is replaced with a deep straight line; the younger man sighing as he shakes his head. “Honestly? I have no fucking clue.” Buck’s honest, it’s clear that he’s tired of struggling with whatever is going on in that big old head of his. “I… I’ve tried! But I can’t sleep because every single night is filled with fucking nightmares, Chim.” Chimney nods his head to show that he is listening, wants Buck to see that he can talk and someone will take in what he is saying.

“What about? It might help to talk about them.” He offers, being the ear for Buck to rant in if that’s what he needs to feel better. Buck smiles softly as he leans back against the wall, letting his head fall back against it as he takes a deep breath. “Losing everyone.”

That throws Chimney into complete silence, and he isn’t ashamed to admit that the tone in Buck’s voice breaks his heart right in two. Because he sounds so lost and so small, and in that moment all Chimney wants to do is wrap him up and make sure that nothing can ever hurt him. “Sometimes, it’s Bobby being sick. Or you’re stabbing. Or the rebar incident.” Whispers Buck, not looking at Chimney when he speaks now, head tipped back against the wall and eyes shut when he speaks. “Or… Or it’s Eddie stuck under the ground, a-and I can’t save him.” When Buck mentions Eddie, Chimney doesn’t seem fazed or even mention how Buck’s voice cracks.

He watches as Buck instead turns his head to look at his boyfriend asleep on the other bunk, and it’s obvious that he’s taking in the fact that Eddie is still breathing and beside him. “Chris gets taken away from me in those, and… and I can’t lose you guys.” Buck pauses as he looks back at his friend. “Or when Doug took Maddie, that fear that she’s going to die is constantly replaying in my head.”

Chimney now finally understands what has been troubling his friend, that he’s being drowned by the memories of almost losing those that he loved. Briefly, Chimney wonders if that is something that should have been obvious to the team from the start. Chimney is quiet for a moment as he leans forward, placing a hand on Buck’s knee and looking his friend in the eyes with an encouraging smile. “Hey, you’re not going to lose any of us. You’re not going to be alone.” The tone that Chimney uses is confident when he speaks, because he knows that everyone here would never leave each other if they could help it.

“You can’t promise that, though!” Harshly whispered Buck and Chimney can see that it isn’t anger that he’s speaking with, it’s fear and desperation that causes his eyes to fill with tears. And Chimney remains silent as he thinks about what to say to Buck’s outburst, because he can’t promise that with the job that they have and the dangers that come hand in hand with it.

“Look, it’s fine. Forget I said anything.” Buck quickly brushes off when Chimney remains silent, knowing that the older man doesn’t know what he can say right now. Pushing himself up, Buck gets up from the bunk with the intention to do something else to distract his own mind. “Buck, wait. Talk to me, man. You can’t keep burying this hoping it will go away.” Chimney pleads, not wanting Buck to bury an issue like this and pretends that something is eating him alive; his friend is in mental pain and he doesn’t know what he can do to help right now. “Chim, don’t. I’m fine, I’m always fucking fine.” Once again, Chimney can’t sense nor hear any anger when he speaks despite sounding like it’s there, and that is enough to make his heart clench to painfully in his chest.

He can only sit there, watching Buck walk away from him with a sad and worried expression.

MADDIE

“Oh Ev…” Maddie voice is so quiet when he walks into her living room, finding her little brother asleep on the couch, wrapped so tightly under blankets she gave him. She notes that he doesn’t look peaceful either, his face scrunched up as he pants out roughly, hands tightly gripping the blanket as he makes a something akin to a whimper of fear. Quickly, she moves over and kneels beside the couch as he places a hand on her little brother’s shoulder, waking him up from whatever nightmare he finds himself trapped in.

“Hey, Buck. You gotta wake up, buddy.” She instructs softly, shaking the younger man’s shoulders with a frown of her own; hearing Buck mumble something out but not being able to understand what he’s saying. He sounds scared though, so scared that it breaks Maddie’s chest to hear such a tone come from someone who everyone sees as so strong. And he is, oh god is he so strong and brave, but he’s also human. “Come on, you’re okay. You gotta wake up, Buck.” She insists, shaking Buck’s shoulder just that little bit harder when he doesn’t respond to anything that she tells him. Maddie doesn’t want to scare him into waking up, not when he was already trapped in a nightmare that seemed to be doing that just fine on its own.

With a gasp, Maddie watches as Buck bolts up right with drastic breaths and eyes wildly looking around his surroundings. “Hey, hey, hey. You’re okay, you’re with me. You’re okay.” She sooths, moving forward and cupping either side of Buck’s face with hands so gentle, Buck’s eyes snapping to his sister’s face. “I though… I-“ Maddie is never going to hear whatever Buck was going to say, but he cuts himself off with the shake of his head as he puts a hand against his chest, taking deep and calming breaths to sooth his racing heart.

“Sorry, I’m good.” Buck quickly brushes off, sending his sister a shaky smile as he moves away from her touch and swings his legs over the edge of the couch, laughing at himself pathetically. Maddie shakes her head, having no idea why her little brother would apologize for having a nightmare; that’s not something that he needs to be sorry about. “Hey, don’t apologise, Buck. Are you okay, that seemed pretty bad?” Notes Maddie, brows pinches together as she pushes herself up from the ground and takes a seat beside her brother.

“Hey, I didn’t wake up screaming, so that’s pretty tame.” Buck says it as a joke to lighten the mood, but instead Maddie just cocks her head when he looks at him for a moment. “Wake up screaming?” She questions, and Buck can’t help but groan for making her more worried than what she already was. “Does that happen often, Buck?” Shaking his head, Buck pushes himself up from the couch and makes his way into the kitchen to get a glass of water, already prepared for Maddie to follow him with questions and concerns she won’t let go of. “Evan, talk to me.” Maddie begs when she does, in fact, follow her brother into the kitchen; not wanting to let this conversation die just yet.

“Mads, I’m fine. Just drop it, please.” Buck’s voice is pleading, begging, for her to just drop the subject but he’s known Maddie his whole life and knows how stubborn she can be. He inwardly snorts, that’s the one trait that she ever got from their father. “No, I’m not gonna drop it, Evan. I’ve watched for weeks as something has bothered you, I can’t keep letting you pretend that nothing is wrong.” She shoots back, and Buck sighs as he places the glass back onto the bench and leans forward, taking a moment to just breath. “I’m here, okay? And I’m not leaving, Evan. So talk to me.”

“But you’re not always gonna be here, Maddie!” Buck isn’t entirely sure what he means when he yells those words, turning around to face Maddie who looks shocked and taken aback. “I-I’m not leaving, Evan. I’m not leaving you again.” She promises, and Buck just shakes his head quickly as he reaches up to run a hand through his hair, scratching at the back of his head for a moment. “You can’t promise that, though! You can’t promise that you’re always gonna be here!” Maddie is silent for a moment, knowing that Buck is talking about when they were growing up and left for college, or when she left after meeting Doug; there’s more to what he’s saying.

“So what is the point of any of you saying that you’ll always be here when the reality is you can’t promise that?” Maddie can see the tears trailing down her brother’s face, that he angrily scrubs away with a scoff. “I am so sick of fucking crying!” He hisses to himself, beyond worked up and stressed about whatever has been bothering him for the last few weeks.

“And I am sick of not sleeping because every time I close my eyes, I’m losing you or someone from the team. Or Eddie and Chris. I am so fucking sick that I can’t just ‘get over it’” When Buck utters those last three words, Maddie notes the use of quotation marks with a frown; it’s obvious that they have another meaning to Buck when he says them. “Evan, how long has this been going on?” Maddie questions, tears burning in her own eyes at the thought of her brother suffering so terribly alone. “Why haven’t you told anyone?” Maddie jumps onto the next question when Buck just shrugs when his arms crossed over his chest, leaning back against the kitchen sink.

“Because, Maddie, I’m getting over it my own way, I’m fine.” He says once again, wondering how many times he’s said that in the past few weeks; and he’s wondering why he can’t force himself to believe it yet.

“You’re not dealing with it, though. And you don’t need to deal with it on your own.” Maddie’s voice is soft when she speaks again, and Buck doesn’t even respond to what he had said. “You’re hoping that if you keep saying you’re okay then it’ll come true.”

“Look I gotta go.” That is how that Maddie knows she’s hit the nail on the head, because Buck just does what he can to get out of the conversation; running away from his own problems so they won’t hurt him. And it causes her to sigh, because when Buck doesn’t think she’s knows she’s hit a dead end and Buck isn’t going to open up any more; despite how much she wishes that he would. “Just…” Maddie allows herself to pauses, because no matter what she says next Buck isn’t going to admit anything else, he’s done with this conversation. “Just drive safely, and text me when you get home.”

Buck nods his head as he grabs his jacket from where it was sitting on the kitchen island and his shoes before he allows Maddie to pull him into a tight hug, allowing her to hold him for a few moments longer than normal. “I love you, Evan.” She says gently in his ear, pulling away and taking a moment to place a hand on the side of his face; smiling so sadly up at her brother. “Love you, too.” Buck says back, and then Maddie can only watch as her brother walks out the door; a frown on her face the entire time that she watches him go.

EDDIE

Riddled with sleep, Eddie reaches out to pull Buck’s body closer to his own only for his hands to be met with the cold sheet on the mattress, lacking a certain someone. Opening his eyes tiredly, Edie looks over to see that Buck’s side of the bed is empty and has been for a while, causing the older male to frown in confusion. Groaning as he rolled over, and he looks at the clock that reads three in the morning, far too early for anyone to be up yet. Sighing, Eddie pushes himself up from the bed and begins his trek down the hall, searching for his boyfriend.

The first place that Eddie thinks to check is the living room, having found Buck there a handful of times in the past when the younger male wasn’t able to sleep; watching whatever was on to distract himself. But when he reaches the room, he’s greeted with the darkness and quietness that shows it’s empty, not even able to make out Buck asleep on the couch. It’s obvious he’s in here and for a moment Eddie frowns, he had really expected his boyfriend to be in here watching television. Biting into his lip, Eddie makes his way into the kitchen in hopes that his boyfriend would be in there, only to be once again proven wrong by no sign of Buck.

For a moment, Eddie stands in the dark kitchen confused because he doesn’t have that many options left as to where Buck could be; and he can’t help but be worried.

The firefighter is about to make his way back into the bedroom so he could retrieve his phone and call his boyfriend, only for something to catch his eyes when he begins to walk. He looks over to the direction of the front door and sees it slightly open, the outdoor light flicked on, and he makes his way towards the direction with a frown.

Opening the door, he sees that Buck is sitting on the steps with a jacket wrapped tightly around his body, hands wrapped around a mug of coffee as he takes calming deep breaths. “Buck? What are you doing out here, baby?” He questions as he moves to sit down on the steps beside his boyfriend and wraps arm around the younger man’s shoulder to bring him closer to his chest. Buck doesn’t hesitate to lean his head on Eddie’s shoulder and close his eyes, soaking in the comforting that his partner brings him.

“Woke up an hour ago, couldn’t get back to sleep.” Simply explains Buck, and Eddie can hear the tiredness that drags down Buck’s voice, can hear the roughness in it. “Nightmare?” The older man questions with a light tone, soaking in the cool night air as he holds his loved one close to his body; everything around them is calm and quiet.

“Mhm.” Is the only confirmation that Buck gives Eddie, the way his response sounded was clear that he didn’t want to talk about his nightmare, and Eddie wasn’t going to pressure him into talking if he didn’t wish to. So he allows them to just sit there in silence, knowing that if Buck wants to talk about his nightmare than his boyfriend was here to listen to him. But Eddie was going to allow his partner to deal with this at his own pace right now, the most he can do and is just be by his side to comfort him.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s head back to bed.” Eddie voices up a few minutes later, looking down and pressing a soft kiss to Buck’s head and waiting for his boyfriend to nod in response. “Okay.” Is the worded answer he gets, but neither of them move for a short moment. Finally, Eddie is the first to move and pulls Buck to his feet by his hands. Eddie smiles when he pulls Buck’s body against his own, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend’s lips when the younger man wraps one arm around his neck and the other gripping the front of his shirt.

Eventually the two make their way into the house, Eddie keeping Buck’s hand tightly within his own as he takes a second to close and lock the front door before they make their way down into the bedroom. On the way, Eddie looks back when he feels how Buck pauses in front of Christopher’s door, biting into his lower lip before sighing and shaking his head to himself. He’s about to walk forward toward their bedroom when Eddie stops him, sending his boyfriend a knowing look as stopping him from walking away. “You wanna check on Chris?” Buck only hesitates for a moment, biting into his lower lip before he nods his head and smiles at his boyfriend gratefully.

Eddie had guessed when Buck had stopped in front of Christopher’s door that his boyfriend must have had a nightmare about the Tsunami, and he knew that checking on the young boy would help Buck a lot. Eddie can’t even count the number of times he’s found Buck in Christopher’s room, just making sure that the kid was really here after having a nightmare about the Tsunami; it would always help to just make sure that Christopher really was here and safe. “Alright, we can do that.” Eddie says, quietly opening the door and allowing Buck to poke his head into the room.

The reaction is instant, Eddie watches as Buck’s body seems to melt as the stress and worry leaves his body at the sight of Christopher sleeping soundly, and safe, in his bed. “Come on, you need to get some sleep, love.” Eddie’s voice is filled with nothing but love and patient as he directs the younger man out of the room, Buck following his boyfriend after him without a word.

Eddie lays down first, allowing Buck to take his time as he crawls into the bed; taking his place curled up against the short of the two men. Eddie lets Buck rest his head against his chest, using the hand of the arm holding Buck to run fingers through his hair, his other hand rubbing up and down Buck’s arm.

“I’m sick of not being able to sleep, Eds.” Buck suddenly speaks up, and all Eddie can do is holding him just that little bit tighter and closer. “I know, love. I know.” Whispers the older man, because this was a conversation that needed to be have tomorrow, when both of them were more aware and awake. “For now, just close your eyes and listen to my breathing, okay?” Eddie instructs, feeling the younger man nod his head against his chest when the other man moved to lie on his back. “Match my breathing, close your eyes and take some deep breaths.” Eddie’s voice is extremely soothing, and Buck allows himself to close his eyes as he does as is asked of him; taking deep breaths that matches Eddie’s own.

It takes a while for Buck to be soothed off to sleep, but Eddie doesn’t fall asleep until he feels Buck’s breathing even out and his body sags against him.

While Eddie wishes that he could have spoken to Buck about everything that’s been going on but he knows that Buck needs all the sleep he can get. So for now, he forgets about everything that he wants to talk about and allows himself to follow his boyfriend to sleep.

EVERYONE

Athena had been expecting something like this to happen sooner or later, because every time that she saw Buck she could see that the young man was one step closer to just breaking down. And even though the woman had expected it to happen, it doesn’t mean that it didn’t break her heart when she watches Buck sob onto the decking of her backyard.

The day had started off so nicely, the team being invited over to the Nash-Grant household for a bi-weekly dinner; and everything had been wonderful. And Athena can’t be sure what had started it, or why it was even a conversation. But they were talking about their near death experiences, the entire time Buck had been silent and seemed to have zoned out while everyone jokes and laughed about it. That had been followed by Buck excusing himself as tears slid down his cheeks, only making it to the decking before he had burst into a fit of sobs.

Everyone seemed to freeze in shock and surprise while Bobby and Eddie moved quickly, the duo running to either side of Buck’s side when the younger man collapsed to his knees as he sobbed. “Hey, shh, shh. Just breath, love. You’re okay.” Eddie whispers, allowing the firefighter to fall against his chest as he wrapped his arms tightly around his boyfriend. “I-I can’t lose you guys! I can’t!” Hen moved forward as Buck spoke, eyes filled with compassion and sadness as she sat in front of the fallen man, taking one of his hands tightly into his own, not saying anything but allowing the man to know that she was here for him.

“We’re all right here, Buckaroo.” Chimney explained as he also moved closer, sitting between Hen and Bobby and placing a hand on Buck’s shoulder, whose crying hasn’t eased up. “We’re here, buddy. We’re still here, we’re with you.” Chimney says again, thinking back to the conversation that he had with Buck and everything the younger man had admitted, his heart breaking when he thinks about how long this has been weighing Buck down.

“We can’t promise to always be safe, not with our job.” Bobby begins, and places a hand on the back of Buck’s head that coax’s the younger male to look to him with red rimmed eyes. “But we can promise that we’ll always fight to back to this family, come back to you, kiddo.” Smiles Bobby so lovingly, and Buck sniffs as he takes Bobby’s hand that was on his head into his own hand, not moving from where he was leaning against Eddie. Maddie walks over now, tears sliding down her face as she sits behind her brother and presses a kiss to the back of his head.

“You’re not alone, Evan. Not anymore, you’re here with family.” She whispers, Buck’s crying still having not eased up despite him nodding his head at the words she had uttered. “I-I know, it’s just… You guys are all I have, I can’t lose you.” Buck finally admits everything; explain what had been weighing him down. “And every time I close my eyes, all I can think about is how close I’ve come to losing each of you. It fucking terrifies me.” He sobbed, Eddie holding him closer and rubbing a soothing hand across his back and he pressed a kiss to the top of his boyfriend’s head.

“Kiddo, how would you feel about going back to therapy? Meeting with someone else?” Bobby questioned, asking that last bit after seeing that small bit of panic in the younger man’s eyes when he looked up at him. “We can chose the therapist together, but I think seeing someone about this would really benefit you, son.” The Captain’s voice is filled with understanding when he speaks, and his eyes hold nothing but concern and love for the man sitting in front of him.

“I might know just the person for you, Buckaroo. They’re wonderful and might be the best fit for you.” Athena said suddenly, walking over and standing behind her husband; smiling down so encouragingly when Buck looks up at her. After a moment of silence, and briefly looking at his boyfriend who just smiles so softly and patiently, he nods his head as he looks back up at the older woman. “Y-Yeah, okay. Yeah.” He whispers, releasing a breath he didn’t realise he was holding as he allows his body to sag back against Eddie; drained and tired.

“But right now, you and Eddie are going to go into the spare bedroom, and you’re going to get some rest.” Athena says, everyone stepping back when Eddie helps Buck climb to his feet; holding him close still. He only lets go of the man that he loves when Athena steps forward and bring the younger man into her arms, holding him so tightly as if letting go would mean him disappearing. “You’re running on fumes, and you need rest. So go, we’ll wake you both up when dinner is ready.” Bobby added on, placing a hand on Buck’s shoulder when Athena pulls away from the hug.

“T-Thanks, guys. I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting.” He utters, feeling a little guilty about how worried all of them have been about his wellbeing lately, but it does make him feel so loved that they cared so much about him. “Hey, don’t apologise for this, okay? You’re allowed to have feelings, you’re human. And you’ve been through a lot.” Hen says seriously, smiling at her best friend as she pulls him into a hug of her own. “You’re feelings are completely valid, Buckaroo.”

Eddie, who had been watching with a smile, can easily see that Buck is feeling a little overwhelmed with everything that had happened so he excuses them and says that they’re going to go take up that offer to get some sleep; he can see Buck badly needs it. Leading a tired and sluggish Buck into the house, Eddie holds his hand so tightly as they make their way into the said spare bedroom.

“I would be so lost without you guys; I love you all so much.” Buck whispers despite only talking to Eddie now, who sits him down on the edge of the bed and begins kicking off his own shoes and jacket while Buck does the same. “And therapy might be the best idea; I’m just worried about it.” And Eddie understands why Buck is worried, and everything he is scared about is completely justified and valid; and Eddie isn’t ashamed to admit that he would be the same as Buck.

“I know, love. But if Athena trusts this person, then I’m assuming they’re a safe bet. What happened with her won’t happen again, sweetheart.” Eddie feels like he can promise this, especially if Athena had been the one who was going to give them the name of someone that she trusted; especially after the event with Buck’s previous therapist taking advantage of him. “And we’re here for you, because we love and support you.”

And for the first time in so long when Buck smiles up at his boyfriend it’s genuine and real, even though it’s something small and tired. But it’s real and that is enough to make Eddie feel as though everything is going to be okay soon. Not now, maybe not within the next year, but things will be okay.

#anonymous #prompt fill #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #bobby nash #athena grant #hen wilson #howie han #maddie buckley #buck x eddie #i am so tired now #but i hope this is ok #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending

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thorne93 · 4 years ago

Text

Inside the Criminal Mind (Part 39)

Prompt: You’re married to Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU, and are a distinguished doctor yourself on the team. You’re sent down to Miami, Florida for teaching and as a side request from the FBI, to investigate a string of missing persons. When you think you’ve figured out who the unsub is, your life becomes more complicated than you ever could’ve imagined.

Word Count: 3091

Warnings: (throughout the fic –>) death, blood, gore, killings, language, disturbing mental notions, mentions of rapes/murder/etc (You know, Dexter and Criminal Minds related business)

Notes: Thank you so much to @arrow-guy, @carryonmyswansong, and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo - without each of you, I couldn’t have finished, written, or properly navigated this story. Each of you helped me fish out details that were incredibly important to me. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo… Aesthetic by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo

This is a crossover of Criminal Minds x Dexter. First time writing Dexter.

Also, the timeline is after Season 1 of Dexter, but during season 14-ish of Criminal minds into Season 15. Enjoy!!!

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

JJ knelt beside him too, across from you.

"What happened?" she wondered, no accusation in her voice.

"I don't know," you admitted. "I was only gone an hour or two. He was perfectly fine when I left." You stared at his body in horror, wondering what went wrong. Wondering if it was your fault.

Soon, an ambulance, police, and firefighters arrived.

You rode with Spencer to the hospital and JJ said she'd let the team know and be behind you. You were trying to keep your crying back, but it was hard as the EMTs worked on him.

Finally, you got to the hospital where Garcia and JJ met you. The doctors asked you questions and you focused long enough to answer them quickly and directly. Then they wheeled him away to the CCU. JJ and Garcia said they were being called in, so you nodded, telling them to go, that the team needed them.

With trembling hands, you called Diana, Spencer’s mom. In a little under an hour, Diana arrived and Spencer was out of the CCu, but he wasn’t doing much better. The doctor informed you of the options.

“The conservative approach would be surgery. It may reduce the swelling around his brain faster. There is risk, it could cause seizures and even more bleeding.”

You nodded and asked them to give you a moment. You spoke with Diana and as you were weighing your options, he began to seize again, causing monitors to go off everywhere. You went around the side of the bed and hugged Diana, trying to comfort her and not focus on your own pain.

Your husband was dying and you had no idea if he even loved you anymore.

When they finally got him calmed down, and the seizing stopped, someone appeared in the doorway of Spencer’s hospital room. You turned your head, and it was Max.

A million emotions slammed into you at once, but the main one was confusion.

“What are you doing here?” you asked. Diana turned to see the newcomer.

“Who’s this?” she asked.

“A friend of Spencer’s,” you answered absentmindedly. Max looked like a lost puppy. Maybe she didn’t realize you’d be here. “Diana, I’ll be right back.” You stood up and walked towards Maxine. “Do you wanna go grab some coffee?” you offered. You weren’t about to sit in the same room with her as your dying husband. You wanted her far away from him.

“Sure,” she said, looking a little afraid.

You two walked to the cafeteria and got coffee, sitting down.

“So, what are you doing here? Who told you he was here?”

“JJ.”

“Ah, I should’ve figured that out.”

“I’m uh, sorry for showing up like this--”

“Why did you show up, knowing now that he’s a married man?” you took a deep breath and remembered what Dexter had taught you. “How do you and JJ know each other?” you figured this would be a good start to finding out more.

“After the thing with Cat, we talked for a bit. Your team had briefed me about what might have happened and then afterwards, she said she was close to Spencer and gave me her number in case I had any more questions about what had happened. Then, I got the text about him being in the hospital. She said I might want to know.”

This fueled the fire within you about JJ. she had no reason to tell her about what was going on with your husband. “So….how did you and my husband meet?” This was the most awkward situation you were in and you just wanted this to get over with. “It seems you’ve become the center of his attention and that’s not something I'm okay with.”

She twiddled her fingers, toying with her coffee cup. “Yeah, I’m probably not your favorite person. Um, we met at the park. My nephew was talking to him, then he started to have a panic attack and Spencer came over and did a magic trick to distract him. It really impressed me, that a guy could take time out of his day to make a boy he didn't know happy and feel better.”

“Spencer’s always had a soft spot for kids, he’s a great uncle.” You smiled fondly hearing that he had helped a child in need. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy he was able to help but how does that in turn end up with you and him constantly being together?” You took a sip of your coffee. “Wasn’t there a point where you asked if he was seeing anyone or if he was married?” You couldn’t see how that would never cross a person’s mind

“It did, but we were having such a good time, I didn’t want to think anything was wrong. He never talked about you, and I never thought to bring it up. He seemed so sweet and decent, I didn't think there was any way he could do something like that.”

“You never thought to ask if he was single or taken?” That sounded incredulous to you. “Did he ever ask you?” At that point you were starting to believe that the man you loved really didn’t love you and this was just a confirmation. “I’m going to be frank with you. He and I are going through a tough situation and JJ was the cause of it and then you showed up and things got worse, I’d really appreciate it if you could tell me what exactly it was that you two did so much that he couldn’t bat an eye at me.” You moved your hands under the table to hide their trembling.

She took a breath. “Okay, well, first of all, I didn’t mean to make anything worse. I’ve never intended to cause issues in a marriage. But, all we did was go to lunch, dinner… We went to a few museums and shops. He gave me a couple of things.”

“Were there ever moments where you two got to be closer than friends?” You massaged one temple trying to think things through like Dex had told you to. “I’m just trying to figure all this out and I’d like to know everything, if you could tell where you guys went and what you did I would really appreciate that.” You were being sincere as much as it pained you, this needed to be done there was so much you were unsure of and Max was the key to knowing the truth. “ Do you have pictures by any chance?”

“I have a few. Yeah.” She pulled her phone out and began to show you pictures. “This was us at the science museum. This was us at the park.” She glanced at you, making a face of worry. “I know this is probably really weird, but as you can see we’re never kissing or holding hands.” She put her phone away, sighing before trying to list everywhere they went. “We talked about books, movies, a little bit about his work, but that was only for a few minutes. He gave me some of his favorite books to read, and showed me a few poems. He told me places I should go visit.”

Hearing all of this was hurting you far worse than you thought it would. He gave her the books that you had given to him, the places they went to were some of the few places that only you and him had ever gone to.the same poems he showed to her were the ones he would recite to you when he felt that they were meant for you. Your shoulders sag and you wanted to hate her but you couldn’t she did know he was married he chose to keep that from her. He chose to keep you hidden from his life to someone else and that, that's what broke your heart. “Did he ever hint at wanting more than what you two had?” you hoped this would give you the answer to the question that's still gnawing at you.

“Not really, no. He made it clear he liked being around me but…” She bit her lip. “I was falling for him. I was going to tell him I loved him, soon. Probably the next time we met. That was before I found out he was married though. But I still can’t turn off those feelings, that's why I came to the hospital, I think…. Because I love him, and if he died…”

“If he died what? He died knowing that you fell in love with him?!” you winced hearing your voice rise. “I’m sorry but knowing that he’s married you shouldn’t have even thought of that, it’s bad enough I had to deal with JJ doing the same shit while I was away for work but I don’t need someone else doing that and especially not now when he’s like this.”

“I know. I shouldn’t be here but… I had to be true to myself. I love Spencer, and I wanted to tell him that, but… I won’t get in the way of your marriage. I’d still like to be his friend and I won’t let us go anywhere past that.”

“I don’t really know much about you so it’s hard for me to even trust you’ll keep that promise and that you won't try later on.” you finished your coffee cup “But I do appreciate you telling me everything that’s happened.”

She nodded. “Of course. If I was married, I’d want the same courtesy. Besides, you’re really intimidating.” She nervously laughed.

“You smiled a little at that. “I don’t do it on purpose, it's just part of the job.” you make a move to leave. “I should probably get back. I need to check on Spencer.”

“Right, yeah, of course. I’m just gonna go. I’m so sorry to have come, but… now at least you know the truth. I hope whatever damage I caused, you two can fix it.”

“I’ll let him know you stopped by to say hello, and I hope we can fix this too.” You nod your head and head back to the room.

You headed back, and Diana had a hold of his hand. A few hours later, he opened his eyes and he was fully awake. After they ran some more tests, they cleared him. His bleeding had stopped and he was going to be okay. Diana said she was tired and she went back to the live-in home, wishing you both a good night.

Now that Spencer was finally lucid, you were sitting beside his bed, holding his hand.

“Hey,” you softly said. “I thought I lost you there for a while. I came home from the hotel and found you on the floor. I’ve never been more scared in my life.”

Spencer smiled at you.

“I wondered if the last thoughts in your head were about Max,” you admitted with a bit of an embarrassed laugh.

He shook his head. “No. They weren’t about Max. I was thinking about the case. Everett Lynch is still alive.”

“We know, sweetie,” you assured. “The team is tracking him, we’ll find him.” You bit your lip to look down for a second. “Spencer, I talked to Dexter, and actually Max stopped by too.”

“Oh? What did they have to say?”

You noticed he didn’t ask about why Max was here. “I had talked to Dexter and he made me realize that I was overreacting and I didn’t give you a chance to explain yourself and try to see your side of this.” You looked away from him, not being able to meet his eyes about Max.

“Well, that’s good. He won’t hurt any more women… Y/N… I’m so sorry that you were put in the position to even think I was thinking of another woman before I collapsed… I never should’ve done that to you. You’re right. I was completely in the wrong for keeping you a secret from each other. I just… It was nice to talk to someone who had nothing to do with work, or Miami, any of it. It was a breath of fresh air. But I made you feel second best, and you’ve never done that to me. Ever… I should’ve paid you the same respect.”

“Thank you, Spence…” You really didn’t know what to say. Things were happening left and right and you didn’t know what to believe. “I just wish you’d thought of giving me that respect before all of this happened.” You still couldn’t look at him. “We spoke… Maxine and I.”

He made a look of uncertainty and worry. “Really? How did that go? She came by? What did she have to say? Why was she here?”

“She… She came to see you and well we got to talking and she confessed that she’s in love with you and that if you died she wanted to do right to herself and tell you.” you moved yourself away from him a bit. “She told me about everything Spencer. The places you guys went to, the books you gave her” you looked away trying to calm your emotions. “Why Spencer? What happened to those places being just for us, I gave you those books.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. Nothing. And everything. I know the case in Miami is done but that doesn’t mean my head or my heart were in the right place. I was in profiler mode the whole time we were down there. Working the case, protecting you. Then we got back here,and reality hit me of everything that had happened. And I just wanted the taste of a normal life for a little bit with someone that wasn’t on the team or even you. It wasn’t a romantic choice. It could’ve been anyone. It just happened to be her. I’m sorry that she told you she loves me… That.. that was never my intention. I just wanted a friend, a close friend, a good friend like you and Dexter. I needed to digest everything that happens, and at the same time, be away from it all with someone who could just be my friend, not a profiler or a killer. But I don't love her… at all. I love you, and only you. It’s always only been you, I swear.”

“Spence, it's hard for me to believe that, all of the things she told me you did were the exact same thing we did when we first got together, how do you expect me not to feel like i’ve been pushed aside for someone new,” There was no stopping the tears. “Like you said she’s outside of all of this I wouldn’t put it past you to move on from me.”

He reached over, taking your hand and sitting up on his elbow. “The last thing I will ever want or do is move on from you. I didn’t spend the last several months using every waking moment trying to protect you and your freedom because I don’t love you more than anyone in this world. I made a mistake. I distanced myself from you, but to be fair, you did it too.” He held up his hand to stop you from protesting. “I’m not faulting you. I know why you did it. I’m keenly aware as to why you did what you did. But the fact remains that when both of us are afraid of hurting the other person, we distance ourselves. The only problem with that logic is, the distancing ourselves does hurt. I did this all wrong. I know I did. But Max is just a friend. I was caught up with feeling.. No longer bogged down by our work, or the Miami business. For that, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making you feel second best. I’m sorry for not making you a priority. I’m sorry for making you feel anything but all the love I have for you. I'm sorry for not handling my emotions better and coming to you when I had a problem. I can’t fix what I did, or correct my mistakes, but I’m here now, telling you that none of it matters to me anymore. All I want, all I’ve ever wanted, is you.”

“You mean it? You're not just saying this to get me to not overthink? It’s been hell, Spence. Every time I wanted to be with you, it’s like you didn’t think twice to run to meet with Max.” You looked up at him. “I was honestly waiting for you to tell me that you were leaving, that you never wanted to see me again, I wanted to blame you for this but I blame myself because if it hadn’t been for me you wouldn’t have had to find confidence and search for someone else to find some semblance of normalcy.” You wiped the tears away, not wanting to get too emotional.

He leaned all the way up and put his hand on the side of your face. It was some of the first physical contact you’d had in forever since this whole Maxine thing began. “No,” he cooed. “No, none of this is your fault, don’t even think that. I’m an adult. I should've handled it better. It’s just… well you already know I’m envious of you and Dexter. Between JJ, and Miami, and Dexter, and Maxine and our jobs in general. So much has been so messy with us lately, I didn’t even know how to begin talking to you about it. That’s my fault. Not yours. It’s a reflection of me, not you. I got caught up in distancing myself so far away from work, that I distanced you too, and I never meant to do that. I just… I want us to find our way back to each other. That’s all.”

“I would really like that too, just please no more lies?” you asked of him as you leaned into his touch realizing you’d been very deprived of his touch. “What do you say when we go back I cook you up some of your favorite foods to make you feel better?” you hoped that this would be a good start to getting back to what you two had before everything went wrong.

“Yes, please. No more lies. I swear. I’m done with Maxine. It’ll just be about us, from now on.” He promised, leaning forward to kiss you and it felt like you could finally breathe again.

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

Tagging:

Forever Tag:

@essie1876

@magpiegirl80

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

@iamwarrenspeace

@marvel-imagines-yes-please

@superwholocked527

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#inside the criminal mind #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #dexter #dexter fic #dexter morgan #dexter morgan fic

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duckduck-buck · 5 years ago

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Puppy meets Human Puppy

This is one of the works I’ve posted on my AO3, it’s pretty short and not my usual style, but I started appreciating that kind of light writing a lot more! I don’t know how formatting on tumblr works so hopefully I didn’t fuck it up! You can definitely go and read it on AO3 if you prefer of course, the formatting is better there.

Princeton is a happy bastard. He’s the happiest bastard around and Eddie is pretty sure that if he continues grinning like that he’s going to explode.

They are on a scene, a minor emergency that isn’t dangerous for any of them. The caller is already being taken cared of by Hen and Chimney, Bobby is talking with passerby and supervising the scene and Buck and Princeton are all cosy. The blond firefighter has the prettiest smile on his face, he’s literally glowing and Eddie feels blessed by that sight. Seriously. However, Princeton is here, receiving all of Buck’s attention—which, rude.

Eddie hates it with a passion. He would have preferred to be the one receiving that smile because that’s how it should be. It’s written in the books, the stars, somewhere. Princeton is not supposed to be in the equation. It’s supposed to be Buck + Eddie not Buck + Princeton and right now it’s all wrong. He knows it, Princeton knows it, Hen and Chim—judging by the smirks he can sense— know it, Bobby knows it, everyone but Buck, bless his heart, knows.

So why the hell is Princeton getting what Eddie should be getting? It does not make any sense whatsoever and he won’t stand for it. But he refuses to make it obvious, knowing it would make Buck frown, or worse, notice, so he glares. He glares so hard that if eyes could kill, Princeton would have died at least ten times and then combusted in fire, but they don’t so the fucker is safe.

Anyway, Princeton is a lucky, smug and happy little bastard, as well as an attention stealer and Eddie wants him gone.

Fuck.

Of course, he would be jealous of a stupid dog.

Ah, yes. Did you know Princeton was a puppy?

Puppy meets human puppy

It’s stupid. It’s completely, ridiculously stupid. And maybe a little sad too. That’s what Chim tells Eddie once they arrived to the firehouse, Princeton in tow. The puppy is happily playing with their human disaster downstairs. Bobby, Hen, Chimney and Eddie are all seated at the table, talking. Or more like the other three are talking and Eddie is brooding. Now that’s something he would totally deny if asked because Eddie Diaz does not pout or brood. Never.

Chimney and Hen and Bobby—which, once again, rude—are mocking him, he can feel it. They are totally being little shits, something he will never say out loud, and laughing about his pain. No. Eddie is not being dramatic. Eddie Diaz does not do dramatics, that’s Chim’s and Buck’s scene. He really is in pain.

“It’s a dog, a puppy. What did you expect?”, Hen isn’t even looking at him, the magazine in her hand more interesting than whatever is going on with him.

“Right? Buck is almost a puppy himself, they were bound to like each other.”, Chimney adds with a teasing smile.

“Princeton is a golden retriever.”, Bobby finishes, as if it means anything. It kind of does.

“He’s a nuisance that’s what he is.”

“Now I know you don’t mean that Eddie, that’s just the jealousy speaking.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Sure.”

Buck appears before he can answer, that pretty smile still on his face and maybe, just maybe, Eddie softens just a little. Maybe.

The blond rounds the table, pats Eddie’s shoulder and flops down in the chair beside him. He steals the cup of coffee in front of his best friend and take a sip.

“You know you could have just, I don’t know, made one?”, Eddie says with a smile.

“I could have but why do that when you made one I could steal?”

Hen and Chimney both snort and Bobby has that soft, teasing smile of his. They all know. Eddie always makes a cup of coffee, not for himself, but for Buck. No he never told him it was for him, he will never tell him. What Buck doesn’t know won’t kill him. Eddie is perfectly fine with letting him ‘steal it’.

The moment is broken by a small bark, and seconds after, Princeton is there, looking at Buck with his big brown eyes. The blond is won over and already out of his chair, dropping on the floor to pet the happy golden retriever. He didn’t even finish the coffee.

Eddie hates Princeton.

“Who’s a good boy? You’re a good boy right Prince? You’re the best boy.”

Buck adores him.

It’s Friday night. Bobby and Athena invites everyone over for a small gathering. Everyone is here. Karen is animatedly talking with Athena, Hen is holding Nia while she catches up with Maddie and May. The children are all running around outside. Bobby and Michael are also outside and Chimney is with Eddie, beers in hand.

Buck would have normally been right with them, being his happy, loud self and bickering with Chimney at any given chance but no, the man is too busy paying attention to Princeton. Yes. The dog is also here. Eddie doesn’t know how Buck managed to convince Athena to let Princeton at her house. In fact he doesn’t even know why his best friend thought it was a good idea to bring him over but it’s too late to wonder now. The attention stealer is already here and he’s already getting all the Buck love.

At this moment, Eddie doesn’t only hate Princeton, he also hates Athena’s soft spot for Buck, his friends perceptiveness—because he knows they all know—and Buck’s love for the dog.

Eddie is definitely jealous of a dog and it’s not pathetic.

(Except that it kind of is and he knows that.)

They soon get to the table for dinner and the golden retrieved, aka Eddie’s arch nemesis, is forced to stay outside, which, good. Buck does pout, but Athena’s soft spot for Buck has a limit and she doesn’t let his puppy dog eyes fool her. If she gives him an extra big slice of pie when they get to the dessert, it’s nobody’s business but hers.

If you must know, during the dinner, most of Buck’s attention was on Eddie and Christopher. Of course, Eddie basked in it, accepted each smiles as the blessings they were, had as much contact with him as he could and talked as much as he could without looking suspiciously needy for attention. All of this to say that Buck’s attention was on him and not on Princeton.

Eddie counts it as a win. Take that stupid dog.

Princeton is everywhere. At the station, at Buck’s loft, at Maddie’s. Everywhere. Eddie draws the line at having him at his house. And by that he means that he pouts the whole day because one, he’s too weak to say no to Buck, two, Christopher is way too happy when he sees the puppy for the first time and three, the image of Chris, Buck and Princeton all happily messing around outside is precious, so precious and so pure that Eddie wants it to be burnt into his retina. The feeling of being a family is very strong and warms his heart.

Eddie still hates Princeton.

Princeton is sad today. Eddie is also sad today. The pathetic picture of sadness they make together is as adorable as it is ridiculous. Chimney is terrible for laughing at the two of them and calling them drama queens—how dare he? He went on a whole rant one day because someone drank the apple juice he had brought. Turns out, he was the one who had drunk it and he had forgotten.—. Hen is terrible for encouraging his behavior and taking not one, not two but multiples pictures of the two of them. Bobby is terrible for not stopping them and for participating in their mockery. Eddie doesn’t know when they corrupted him but they did and he doesn’t like it.

“Look at you two, both missing your best friend!”, Hen is way too happy by the way things are.

“First of all, he’s my best friend. Mine. Not his.”, Eddie points at the dog who has his head in his lap, “Understood dog? Mine, not yours.”

Princeton doesn’t even acknowledge him. He’s too sad for that.

“Wow. And Karen calls me possessive.”

“Let him be Hen, he’s experiencing withdrawal.”

Withdrawal. Yes. Buck withdrawal. The reason of his shared sadness with Princeton is the notable absence of one Evan Buckley. The poor guy is down with a very high fever and a terrible cough. Maddie, who thankfully doesn't have a shift today, is currently with him and keeps them updated via messages on the group chat they all share. Princeton, who was brought this morning by Chimney, and Eddie are the one who are suffering the most, both unused to the blond’s absence. So of course the two would pout.

“You know we get off soon right? The moment our shift is over you can go to Buck and stay with him. I don’t recommend it because I don’t need another sick firefighter but knowing you, you don’t care about my advice. You will have to take Princeton with you though.”

And he does. The moment they get off, he’s racing to his car, Princeton on his tail, under his teammates amused gazes. When he arrives, he meets Maddie at the door. She tells him that her brother is awake, wishes him good luck, pats Princeton’s head and leaves with a wide smile.

Eddie is thankful for his Abuela agreeing to take care of Chris tonight, he knows Buck would have love to see the kid but they will have to wait until he gets better.

Princeton makes a beeline for the top floor and Eddie follows. He’s greeted by the sight of a grinning Buck, buried under a heavy blanket, running his hands over the overly excited puppy. Buck’s grin widen when he sees him and Eddie is quick to join them.

Yes, Princeton gets a pat or two from him.

Time passes by, Eddie heats up some soup Maddie made earlier, Princeton eating some dog food not too far from him, and brings it to Buck. They end up talking quietly about everything and anything and they are joined by the golden retriever later on.

Buck’s head drops on Eddie’s shoulder, his eyes are glassy and dropping. He’s tired. Princeton is curled up at the end of the bed, already asleep. Eddie is about to leave them be, still debating between staying and sleeping on Buck’s couch or leaving all together. As if sensing his inner conflict, Buck stops him from going anywhere.

“Stay?”

And how can Eddie say no when he looks at him like that?

They all sleep well that night.

Eddie kisses Buck on a Sunday. Princeton is here, so are Christopher and all of their friends.

Eddie kisses Buck on a Sunday and it’s perfect. Everyone is happy and smiling and cheering, and Buck is beaming.

Eddie kisses Buck on a Sunday, Princeton is running around, Bobby is tearing up because that’s his pseudo-son finally getting the love of his life, and Maddie is giving Eddie the most ridiculous and weirdly threatening shovel talk—she can’t stop smiling. Athena is getting money from Chimney and Hen and Karen because she won the bet.

Eddie kisses Buck on a Sunday and knows he will do it everyday.

He doesn’t hate Princeton anymore, he never really did, and now he gets the attention he always wanted. But he does whisper to the puppy that he won. Because he totally did, fair and square.

Princeton is still a happy bastard.

Eddie + Buck is still the better equation.

And yes, Eddie + Buck = Love.

#911 fic #evan buckley #Eddie Diaz #Princeton the golden retriever #Buddie #fluff #my writing #Leen writes #fanfiction

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phoenixkaizen · 5 years ago

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One Step Closer

Summary: Prompt fic based off the prompt by starsandcomets from tumblr: I’m not exactly good at making up prompts so forgive me ; A; but why not do something along the lines of lonely middle school deku bumping into todoroki and gets crush-at-first sight with him? Author's Note: So DekuTodo is one of my OTPs from My Hero Academia. When I first started reading fanfiction from the fandom, I started off with reading for Shoto Todoroki than I became Erasermight/Erasermic trash and started writing. So writing this prompt is my first actual fic for the two that isn't headed by Shouta Aizawa. So anyway, this prompt, I'm taking it a bit further than what was given. It's going to lead into their time at U.A. probably including the Sports Festival and the fight with Stain. So doing a bit of research for this I found out that Shoto and Midoriya were born near the same prefecture so Todoroki went to private school and Midoriya went to public I'm guessing.

It was almost as if it was on cue that flames came into Izuku's field of vision. Stain jumped backwards and Izuku craned his neck to look down the alleyway. Todoroki stood off back towards the way that he had originally came into the alley. His left hand was still lit up in flames while his phone was held in his right. "Tsk. Someone else to get in my way." Stain growled. "Today has been full of distractions." "Midoriya, you need to give more details than just your location in times like this. I was almost too late to stop this guy." Todoroki said. Izuku couldn't help it as his eyes ran over Todoroki's body. The younger boy now had a new hero costume. It was no longer the white one with the ice covering his left side but instead a blue jump suit with sleeves that only went to his elbows. Blue was a good color on Todoroki and it also hugged him in all the right places. "How did you even get here?" Midoriya found himself asking, pausing for a moment as he eyes widened as his gaze settled on Todoroki's left hand. "Wait... you're using your left side." He muttered in disbelief. Even after their match at the Sports Festival, Todoroki once again found himself battling internally and didn't use his flames in his fight with Bakugou. "You need to send more than your specific location." Todoroki stated as he sent out ice forcing the Hero Killer to jump out of the way. Midoriya was amazed as both him and Native were lifted on the ground and onto the safety of the nice. The dual haired boy ran ahead and towards Stain. "You're not one to send cryptic messages so I figured you were in trouble and came to help." He sent out a blast of flames, which caused some of the ice to melt. Both Midoriya and Native slid down the ice until they were now settled on the ground behind Todoroki. "You were just what they said you were but you won't be taking anymore lives, Hero Killer." Midoriya found himself once more looking Todoroki's body up and down. His face flushed as he realized what he was doing and not only in a dangerous battle with an equally dangerous villain. Midoriya, now is not the time to be checking out your not so secret crush. You are up against Stain and this is bad. Izuku thought as he had to finally rip himself out of his head and called out, "Todoroki, you can't let that guy get your blood. I think he controls his enemies actions by swallowing it. That's how he got us!" He yelled out. "So he ingests people's blood to paralyze them. That explains the blades. All I gotta do is keep my distance." Just as Todoroki finished speaking, a blade flew in his direction and managing to slice open his cheek directly on his scar. Todoroki's eyes widened as Stain jumped forward stating, "You have good friends, Ingenium." Todoroki at last minute raised a small wall of ice to keep the villain from stabbing him in the side. Both the Hero Killer and Todoroki looked up to see Stain's sword flying up into the air above them. Todoroki gasped as Stain grabbed the front of his jacket and jerked him forward. Stain went to lick Todoroki's cheek from where the trails of blood were flowing out of the cut. Todoroki felt his heart beat fast inside his chest as he activated his left side and forced Stain to jump back and away from him. Todoroki sent out an ice wall forcing the ice to cover most of the alley way and force the villain away from him. He flipped between using his right and left side as Iida spoke behind him. "I am Ingenium. The Hero Killer is mine." Todoroki scoffed. "You're Ingenium now? The Ingenium I knew sure didn't have that look on his face. You have a dark side. Guess my family isn't the only one." Izuku groaned as he tried to force his body to move. He had to get up and help Todoroki. Todoroki would only be able to hold out for so long before Stain got the best of him. "Careful, Todoroki!" He yelled, pausing as he felt his fingers finally twitch. Todoroki sent out another ice wall, Stain cutting through it with ease with his sword. "You blocked your field of vision from an opponent that is faster than you. Rookie mistake, kid." Stain stated, putting his sword in front of him facing down as he launched himself towards the others. "Come get me than!" Todoroki exclaimed, his left arm engulfing in flames. He let out a gasp of pain as two knives pierced into the muscles of his left arm causing him to deactive his quirk. "You're good, kid," Stain paused, focusing on Native. "Unlike him." Todoroki went to move and paused at a flash of green lightning flew past him. "Midoriya!" Todoroki screamed as Midoriya and Stain collided with the wall of the alley. "I don't know why but I can move now!" Midoriya called out as the two continued on down the alley. Todoroki's eyes widened. "So he has a time limit." Native coughed. "No, that kid should have been the last to be able to move." The pro hero muttered. Midoriya fell down to the ground with Stain behind him. Todoroki's heart raced as he watched the green haired boy. He had to think quickly. "Midoriya, dodge!" The older boy jumped out of the way just in time for an line of ice going past him and after the Hero Killer. Todoroki held onto his bleeding arm as Midoriya kneeled down next to him. They quickly went over the information they knew about the Hero Killer before deducting that the effects of his quirk were based off blood type. Todoroki and Midoriya talked for a moment. Contemplating if they could grab the two still frozen behind them and run or stall. Stain had managed to dodge both Todoroki's ice and fire. He was too fast for them to be able to escape with the two in tow. Midoriya looked at Todoroki's bloodied arm before looking back to the villain. "No, you're losing to much blood. Let me distract him and you can help me from back here." Midoriya stated. Todoroki looked through the corner of his eye. His stomach filling with butterflies at the determined look on Midoriya's face. “You are wanting to take a big risk." He paused. If Midoriya thought that they could do this, he was behind him on it. "Let's do it. We can protect them."

Midoriya launched himself back down the alley way as Todoroki sent out another barrage of ice. They could do this. x They had done it. They had defeated the Hero Killer. Iida had managed to stand back up and joined in the fight. It had been Iida and Midoriya who made the final blows. They had just been released from the hospital and Todoroki and Midoriya stood in front of the hospital, waiting for the pro heroes they were interning with to arrive. Iida had already left with Manual so it just left the two of them. The two sat in silence for a moment but Midoriya took a glance over at Todoroki as he stared up at the clouds. Todoroki had definitely changed since that first day that Midoriya had met him. Oddly enough, he could see it in the younger teen's eyes. They were no longer the cold, distant look anymore. Now they held a shine and emotion flowed through them. Despite being angry, it was clear to him that Todoroki was content. "Hey, Todoroki." Midoriya whispered. Todoroki turned to look at him, causing the breath to catch in Midoriya's throat once again. Todoroki was still absolutely breath taking. The green haired boy found himself leaning in until his lips connected with another set of soft lips. Todoroki's eyes went wide and he tensed for a moment before he relaxed against Midoriya. Midoriya's hands found their way to the younger's hips while Todoroki snaked his arms around the other's neck. A second later, Midoriya pulled away and his face turned red. Todoroki's cheeks were dusted lightly over as he blinked. "Um, sorry... I've been wanting to do that since the first day I met you." Midoriya whispered. Todoroki smiled softly. "Don't apologize." He looked away bashfully, his face getting redder by the second. "I have too."

#dekutodo #tododeku #shoto todoroki #shouto todoroki #izuku midoriya #deku #this is an attempt at fluff #i can't write fluff #i tried #prompt fill #prompt fic

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midnightphoenixdream · 5 years ago

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One Step Closer

So hey everyone! My original blog (fallenangelofhades) got terminated for some reason. Still don’t know why, I reached out to starsandcomets so they know that this is a repost from my original blog but I want to post it again here.

Author's Note: So DekuTodo is one of my OTPs from My Hero Academia. When I first started reading fanfiction from the fandom, I started off with reading for Shoto Todoroki than I became Erasermight/Erasermic trash and started writing. So writing this prompt is my first actual fic for the two that isn't headed by Shouta Aizawa.

So anyway, this prompt, I'm taking it a bit further than what was given. It's going to lead into their time at U.A. probably including the Sports Festival and the fight with Stain. So doing a bit of research for this I found out that Shoto and Midoriya were born near the same prefecture so Todoroki went to private school and Midoriya went to public I'm guessing.

Every year the third year students from all around the prefectures get to attend a festival held at the capital of that prefecture. It was a large event that even both public and private schools attend. The festival was always held right before entrance exams for high school. It was supposed to be a way to connect with other students and even those at already in high school attended. Currently, Izuku Midoriya stood off to the side as he watched the others around him. He didn't necessarily have any friends and Kaachan was with his group. The entrance exam to U.A. was right around the corner. He really should be training right now but if he was going to be a hero, he needed to socialize in a way. This kind of festival targeted the middle school students. It was a way to show career paths, high schools to attend, make contacts outside someone's school. Izuku pushed off of the wall that he had been leaning against and headed towards the nearby booths. He passed by one that had a doctor, nurse, police man, and firefighter standing near it. It was one of the career booths. This one had to be the first responder booth. Next to it was a booth from a high school that specialized in those fields. Off to the other side held a booth for heroes and sidekicks with a U.A. and Shigetsu booth next to it. Of course the U.A. booth immediately caught his attention and he went to talk over when he felt something collide with his front. He managed to keep his balance but the person who had ran into him went crashing to the ground. Instantly, Izuku sprung into action and apologize profusely. He paused as he took a moment to take it the person on the ground. A teenage boy was dressed in a traditional black gakuran with white buttons. His hair and eyes immediately caught Izuku's attention. His right side had snow white hair split perfectly down the middle and a soft grey eye. The boy's left side had crimson red hair and a turqiouse blue eye. He had barely noticed the scar that covered the left side over his eye as he looked into the very confused but cold and distant eyes. It took Izuku only about two seconds to realize just how beautiful the other boy was. The boy's face flushed over as Izuku broke out of his stupor and held out his hand with a smile. "I'm sorry about that. I should of kept an eye on where I was going." Izuku stated. The boy surveyed his hand for a moment before reaching out and placing his hand into Izuku's. "It's fine." The boy whispered. The sound of the boy's face caused Izuku's stomach to flutter for a moment. "I should of been watching as well." Once the boy was completely off of the ground, he dusted himself off. Izuku rubbed the back of his head for a second, unsure of what to say. His face also dusting over red as the other stop and his heterochromatic eyes falling on him. "Um, I'm Izuku Midoriya." "Shoto Todoroki." A shout of Todoroki's name pulled their attention away and the other looked back to him. "I'm sorry, I've got to go." Izuku's gaze followed him as the boy moved around him and took off in the direction of the voice. The flutters came back as Todoroki's face came back to his mind. Did he seriously just get a crush with just one look? x Izuku didn't see Todoroki again until he had walked into Class 1-A. He had made it into the high school of his dreams and he had been shocked to find out that Todoroki had applied to the same place. Come to find out he was one of the four students that had gotten in on recommendations. He had been talking to Uraraka and Iida at the front of the room when he had seen him. Todoroki sat at the back of the class beside a girl with pitch black hair. Todoroki had his head leaning against his hand as he stared up to where Izuku, Uraraka, and Iida were standing. Izuku wasn't even paying attention to what his other classmates were saying as he kept his eyes on Todoroki. Todoroki wasn't even hiding the fact that he was staring right back. Izuku's attention was taken away when he heard a voice behind him and he turned around to see their teacher laying on the floor in a sleeping bag. All Izuku knew was that he was going to try and talk to him again. x Izuku wasn't sure what had gotten into him. Todoroki had pulled him to the side and had asked him if he was the secret love child of All Might. Todoroki had even told him of his own background. Yet, he couldn't tear his gaze away from Todoroki's pained filled eyes. The hatred. The loathing. Todoroki was drowning and Izuku knew it and he had to get to him somehow. He really wanted to win the match and keep going but something in him told him that Todoroki needed him more. Todoroki continually refused to use his left side that contained his fire. The frost that had covered his body from the usage of his ice quirk was taking it's toll on his body and he knew it. Todoroki needed to know. The entire time, Todoroki kept questioning him. Why was he doing this? Izuku knew that Todoroki could never truly be himself if he continued to hold onto this hate. Yet, Todoroki still refused to listen. "IT'S YOUR QUIRK! NOT HIS!" He found himself yelling. He had watched as Todoroki's eyes widened and Izuku kept going. Shouting at the younger boy that he could never truly be the best hero if he refused to use his full power. It was almost as if time stopped for a moment as Izuku just watched the small smile that came to Todoroki's face. Suddenly, Todoroki's entire left side lit up in flames. It took a moment before Izuku could see him again. His stomach fluttering as he looked the younger boy over. He could barely hear what Todoroki was saying to him now. "I want it to. I want to be a hero." Izuku smirked. Finally. Izuku activated One for All in his legs and unbroken arm as Todoroki shot out more ice and started to use his fire. After that, he doesn't remember what happened. He lost but he couldn't find himself to care. He had gotten through to Todoroki. x Hosu City. Izuku cursed to himself that it took him to long to figure out exactly what the hero Manual was talking about. How could he not understand what was going on with his own friend. Iida was drowning and he never noticed. He didn't put it together that Iida had chosen Hosu so he could hunt down the hero killer. Now, he stood between Stain and Iida and Native. His phone was behind his back as he sent his location to the others. Hoping that maybe someone would show up and help him. "All Might was right though. Meddling when you don't need too is the essence of being a hero!" Midoriya exclaimed, clutching his fists in front of himself in a fighting stance. He watched the momentary shock come to Stain's face before the villain smirked. The villain held his blades in a ready stance as Midoriya prepared himself. He launched himself towards the Hero Killer. Doing his best to stay out of the man's line of sight. "No! If you get cut--" Iida called out but Midoriya could barely hear him as he now got behind the Hero Killer. Before Stain could turn, he threw his body up into the air. The Hero Killer noticed his absence and looked up just as Izuku came back down. He managed to get a hit in on top of Stain's head before he landed back on his feet only for his body to completely freeze in his kneeled state. He watched through the corner of his eye as Stain stood back up to his full height. His eyes widening at the sight of his blood on one of the saturated edges of the blade. So it wasn't the blade, it was his own blood. Stain raved about how Izuku was worthy despite telling him that he wasn't as good as he thought but Iida and Native were not. "No! Stop it! Get away!" The blade the man held was now leveled over Iida's head. Izuku felt the panic fill him. He couldn't move. He couldn't save them. It was almost as if it was on cue that flames came into Izuku's field of vision. Stain jumped backwards and Izuku craned his neck to look down the alleyway. Todoroki stood off back towards the way that he had originally came into the alley. His left hand was still lit up in flames while his phone was held in his right. "Tsk. Someone else to get in my way." Stain growled. "Today has been full of distractions." "Midoriya, you need to give more details than just your location in times like this. I was almost too late to stop this guy." Todoroki said. Izuku couldn't help it as his eyes ran over Todoroki's body. The younger boy now had a new hero costume. It was no longer the white one with the ice covering his left side but instead a blue jump suit with sleeves that only went to his elbows. Blue was a good color on Todoroki and it also hugged him in all the right places. "How did you even get here?" Midoriya found himself asking, pausing for a moment as he eyes widened as his gaze settled on Todoroki's left hand. "Wait... you're using your left side." He muttered in disbelief. Even after their match at the Sports Festival, Todoroki once again found himself battling internally and didn't use his flames in his fight with Bakugou. "You need to send more than your specific location." Todoroki stated as he sent out ice forcing the Hero Killer to jump out of the way. Midoriya was amazed as both him and Native were lifted on the ground and onto the safety of the nice. The dual haired boy ran ahead and towards Stain. "You're not one to send cryptic messages so I figured you were in trouble and came to help." He sent out a blast of flames, which caused some of the ice to melt. Both Midoriya and Native slid down the ice until they were now settled on the ground behind Todoroki. "You were just what they said you were but you won't be taking anymore lives, Hero Killer." Midoriya found himself once more looking Todoroki's body up and down. His face flushed as he realized what he was doing and not only in a dangerous battle with an equally dangerous villain. Midoriya, now is not the time to be checking out your not so secret crush. You are up against Stain and this is bad. Izuku thought as he had to finally rip himself out of his head and called out, "Todoroki, you can't let that guy get your blood. I think he controls his enemies actions by swallowing it. That's how he got us!" He yelled out. "So he ingests people's blood to paralyze them. That explains the blades. All I gotta do is keep my distance." Just as Todoroki finished speaking, a blade flew in his direction and managing to slice open his cheek directly on his scar. Todoroki's eyes widened as Stain jumped forward stating, "You have good friends, Ingenium." Todoroki at last minute raised a small wall of ice to keep the villain from stabbing him in the side. Both the Hero Killer and Todoroki looked up to see Stain's sword flying up into the air above them. Todoroki gasped as Stain grabbed the front of his jacket and jerked him forward. Stain went to lick Todoroki's cheek from where the trails of blood were flowing out of the cut. Todoroki felt his heart beat fast inside his chest as he activated his left side and forced Stain to jump back and away from him. Todoroki sent out an ice wall forcing the ice to cover most of the alley way and force the villain away from him. He flipped between using his right and left side as Iida spoke behind him. "I am Ingenium. The Hero Killer is mine."

Todoroki scoffed. "You're Ingenium now? The Ingenium I knew sure didn't have that look on his face. You have a dark side. Guess my family isn't the only one." Izuku groaned as he tried to force his body to move. He had to get up and help Todoroki. Todoroki would only be able to hold out for so long before Stain got the best of him. "Careful, Todoroki!" He yelled, pausing as he felt his fingers finally twitch. Todoroki sent out another ice wall, Stain cutting through it with ease with his sword. "You blocked your field of vision from an opponent that is faster than you. Rookie mistake, kid." Stain stated, putting his sword in front of him facing down as he launched himself towards the others. "Come get me than!" Todoroki exclaimed, his left arm engulfing in flames. He let out a gasp of pain as two knives pierced into the muscles of his left arm causing him to deactive his quirk. "You're good, kid," Stain paused, focusing on Native. "Unlike him." Todoroki went to move and paused at a flash of green lightning flew past him. "Midoriya!" Todoroki screamed as Midoriya and Stain collided with the wall of the alley. "I don't know why but I can move now!" Midoriya called out as the two continued on down the alley. Todoroki's eyes widened. "So he has a time limit." Native coughed. "No, that kid should have been the last to be able to move." The pro hero muttered. Midoriya fell down to the ground with Stain behind him. Todoroki's heart raced as he watched the green haired boy. He had to think quickly. "Midoriya, dodge!" The older boy jumped out of the way just in time for an line of ice going past him and after the Hero Killer. Todoroki held onto his bleeding arm as Midoriya kneeled down next to him. They quickly went over the information they knew about the Hero Killer before deducting that the effects of his quirk were based off blood type. Todoroki and Midoriya talked for a moment. Contemplating if they could grab the two still frozen behind them and run or stall. Stain had managed to dodge both Todoroki's ice and fire. He was too fast for them to be able to escape with the two in tow. Midoriya looked at Todoroki's bloodied arm before looking back to the villain. "No, you're losing to much blood. Let me distract him and you can help me from back here." Midoriya stated. Todoroki looked through the corner of his eye. His stomach filling with butterflies at the determined look on Midoriya's face. "You are wanting to take a big risk." He paused. If Midoriya thought that they could do this, he was behind him on it. "Let's do it. We can protect them." Midoriya launched himself back down the alley way as Todoroki sent out another barrage of ice. They could do this. x

They had done it. They had defeated the Hero Killer. Iida had managed to stand back up and joined in the fight. It had been Iida and Midoriya who made the final blows. They had just been released from the hospital and Todoroki and Midoriya stood in front of the hospital, waiting for the pro heroes they were interning with to arrive. Iida had already left with Manual so it just left the two of them. The two sat in silence for a moment but Midoriya took a glance over at Todoroki as he stared up at the clouds. Todoroki had definitely changed since that first day that Midoriya had met him. Oddly enough, he could see it in the younger teen's eyes. They were no longer the cold, distant look anymore. Now they held a shine and emotion flowed through them. Despite being angry, it was clear to him that Todoroki was content. "Hey, Todoroki." Midoriya whispered. Todoroki turned to look at him, causing the breath to catch in Midoriya's throat once again. Todoroki was still absolutely breath taking. The green haired boy found himself leaning in until his lips connected with another set of soft lips. Todoroki's eyes went wide and he tensed for a moment before he relaxed against Midoriya. Midoriya's hands found their way to the younger's hips while Todoroki snaked his arms around the other's neck. A second later, Midoriya pulled away and his face turned red. Todoroki's cheeks were dusted lightly over as he blinked. "Um, sorry... I've been wanting to do that since the first day I met you." Midoriya whispered. Todoroki smiled softly. "Don't apologize." He looked away bashfully, his face getting redder by the second. "I have too."

#dekutodo #tododeku #shoto todoroki #izuku midoriya #prompt fic #prompt fill #repost #fallenangelofhades #midnightphoenixdream

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sweetblink · 6 years ago

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To Let Go.

___________________

Jay Halstead x Will Halstead x Reader

Requested by: Anon

Okay i know your requests are closed right now, but i just finished rewatching the one chicago crossover and i really really need one where reader is a female firefighter and shes Halsteads youngest sister and she scolds them for fighting at med, CAN YOU PLEASE WRITE AN IMAGINE FOR THAT?!?

Warning: all the emotional trauma it left me and i'm pretty sure everyone else. Also reader is dating Otis.

___________________

Y/N Halstead forced herself to remain calm, she was constantly shifting on her spot and pacing, to keep herself from running towards the stairs to go find her father. Chief Boden noticed and wrapped his arm around her.

"Hey, your old man is gonna be fine." Boden muttered.

Y/N snorted. "Chief, you know better to sugarcoat things." you replied back. Boden just let out a small chuckle and focused back on what was going on, finally Jay walked back inside and stood next to you. "Anything on dad?" he asked.

You shook your head. "No, you said that dad was supposed to be home."

"He was." Jay let out a small snarl, he grabbed his phone and marched back up to the man, Y/N can hear how her older brother described their father, and she rolled her eyes, when she noticed that Otis finally made his way down, she rushed over to him, smiling

She slowed a bit when she noticed Otis freeze. "Otis, babe, what's wrong?" you asked, walking towards him where the elevator had opened. He said nothing, but you turned to the elevator and saw the smoke started to clear and that's when you saw them.

A small cry left your lips and turned to Otis, who quickly pulled you to his chest. There in the elevator in the corner sat the dead burned mother and baby that Otis had been searching. Otis finally snapped out of it, and pulled you away from them.

"Hey, you're going to be okay?" Otis asked you softly.

You looked at him in a pained expression. "They didn't deserve to go out like that." you whispered. Otis just gave you a small pained expression.

"I'll go tell Chief Boden." Otis said, he just pressed a kiss to your hair, and walked away, you just watched him walk off and turned back to the bodies, you spent about a minute starting at them, when you heard Casey.

"Chief, I got two victims on 25, Jay's and Y/N's father, and his friend."

At Casey's words, you knees buckled, and you fell to the ground, letting out a huge breath of relief that you were didn't know you held, and began to sob. Jay rushed over to you, and helped you back up, pulling you into his arms, rubbing your back.

"He's okay, he's gonna be okay." Jay muttered, you just hugged your older brother back tighter and nodded, you decided to hide your face to his chest, not wanting the others to see you in a weak state.

Things to got a bit worse when you heard that Stella inhaled so much smoke, it was critical.

*******************

Hours had gone by and you were in between watching over your dad, and looking over at Stella. You were walking back when you saw nurses rushing towards your father's room, you picked up your pace and watched as they tried to revive your dad.

You tried to say something, but the words caught in your throat, making it impossible for you to even speak, Jay was by your side, speaking to you, but you couldn't. After a few minutes they had managed to control your dad, Will stood and watched as Dr. Lanik checked your father over.

You just stared at your dad, and ignored the men all around, it wasn't until you heard brain dead when you snapped back to reality. "I'm sorry, what?" you asked.

All three turned to you, and tears began to form around your eyes. Will moved to your side. "I'm sorry, I will give you three to process things." Dr. Lanik said, as he excused himself out. You just turned to Will.

"He's brain dead, Y/N. I'm afraid we can't do much about this situation." Will whispered to you. You stared at him for a minutes and then glanced back at dad who laid there, still, looking back at Will you nodded and moved to sit next your dad, while your two older brothers left the room. Both looking ready to argue and fight about what's gonna happen next.

You sat on the chair for a while, and just stared at your dad, holding his hand. You stayed that way about thirty minutes talking to him. “Daddy, I don’t think I know how to let go.” You whispered.

Silence engulfed the room, when you heard a commotion going outside, you were about to ignore it, when you heard Maggie calling for Otis' name, panicking about the worst, you scrambled off the chair, and tripped your way out your dad's room.

"Otis." You gasped when you saw Otis on the floor, gasping for air. Rushing over to Maggie "Maggie, what happened?" you asked.

Maggie looked up at you, and shrugged. "I don't know, one second I was asking if he was alright, and then he collapsed, I don't know if its his gunshot, or something else."

You nodded and helped the others place Otis on the gourney, the nurses were quick to hook him up and you stood by the door, watching them work. "Mags, you think you can check up my dad for me?" you asked, still staring at Otis.

Maggie looked up at you and her face fell a little. "Yeah, I would." Turning back to her, you gave her a small smile and nodded at her and entered Otis' room now that he was settled in his bed, listening to what the doctor was telling you.

Moments later, Dr. Charles entered, talking to you, waiting for Otis to wake up, when the both of you heard yells outside. "What the hell." you muttered, standing up and looking out the room when you noticed that it was your brothers, fighting. “You help him Dr. Charles, I’ll take care of this.” you muttered, leaving.

Angrily, you stromed up to them. "ENOUGH!" You yelled, pushing your older brothers away. "Jesus christ we're in the hospital for God's sakes, both of you get your head out of asses, you're not the only two losing someone."

Jay and Will both turned to you, both of them softening up when they saw you crying. "Y/N, we di-."

"Leave." You sneered. They both paused when you said that.

"Y/N, I have to be here." Jay said.

"And I want you to leave, I want you guys to leave, take a walk, I don't know, do something to clear your heads, but right now I want you both to leave me and dad alone." You said, turning back to your dad, ready to go back into his room.

"Y/N, you're being selfish, I need to be here." Jay snarled, grabbing your arm. You let out a cry of pain, turning around you pushed him away, making him fall the ground. Your eyes widen at him, as Jay looked at you, distraught, while Will was ready to step in.

"I want you to leave, the both of you." You whispered, clutching you arm. "I don't want to see neither of you here for the next hour or so." you said, walking back into the hospital room where your dad laid.

Will and Jay both stood there, watching, as you sat on the chair where Jay sat, and grabbed Dad's hand. Not wanting to leave you, they watched as you began to let out a loud sob and abandoned the chair as you climbed onto the bed and laid next to him.

"We should've been strong for her." Will muttered, Jay turned to him. "She's the only that was much closer than dad than we were, and clearly everything is affecting her."

Jay looked back at you, and let out a small sigh and stormed away, grabbing his phone out, talking to his team now. Will just stared down to the floor, and let out a small sigh and decided to back to work.

Hours later, after everyone was calm, and Will and Jay finally talked things out perfectly with no argument, they decided that it was finally time to pull the plug.

“I’m sorry Y/N, but we need to let go.” Jay told you softly, comprehending, you nodded and watched as Will called for the others.

The three siblings sat around the bed, as the three of you all watched Dad get taken off life support. You just sat there, watching as dad's heartbeat started to slowing go towards 0, until all you heard was the flatline sound.

Lips wobbling, you turned to your brothers with a lost look and tried to say something, but all the escaped your mouth was a pained cry, quickly Jay pulled you into his arms, Will came in and both of them squished you in a hug, that was the way the three of you stayed until it was time for everyone to return to work.

__________________________

Yo, that crossover episode was something, right? Anyways I hope this was good? Idk, I was gonna do the whole three episodes but it was getting kinda long so I was like nevermind.

Masterlist.

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writingandchocolatemilk · 6 years ago

Text

Asylum - Chapter One

Hello, welcome to this venture !

This is a fic co-written by myself and @somebratinamask

There are several chapters planned, but for now there are two written. This is a fic primarily devoted to RusAme, but GerIta is essential to the plot and will come up later.

We hope you enjoy.

On AO3. On FFn.

Chapter One : The Delusions of Alfred F. Jones

Alfred F. Jones was an honest, true, good American, and as such, he did not lie. Well, sometimes he had to lie, but that was always for the greater good, for helping people, so it wasn't the same thing as lying-lying. It was like telling kids about Santa, or the Tooth Fairy, because it was fun and for their own good, and that was why Alfred lied, sometimes, but not today.

No, not today when the concerned nurse frowned down at him and asked him: "Why did you go into the burning building, Alfred? Can you tell me that?"

So, Alfred F. Jones said what he said when it wasn't a Santa situation, which was the truth: "Because I'm a fireman."

The nurse, who had kind eyes even if her mouth was set a little hard, looked at him with soft admiration. "No, Alfred, you're not a fireman. Can you tell me why you ran into the fire?"

Of course Alfred was a fireman, he had wanted to be a fireman since he was, what, seven years old? He had been running into smoky buildings for, what, at least six years now? Something like that, after college, and he just hadn't had time to grab his equipment, but people had been in trouble, and so Alfred did what firemen do and ran into the fire.

He told the nurse this.

And then Matthew burst into the room.

"You're an idiot, Alfred!" Matthew said, voice on the edge of hysterics.

"Calm down, Mattie, I'm f—"

"You're not fine! You almost died from smoke inhalation, Alfred, do you understand me!? You almost died." Matt collapsed in a chair and put his face in his hands. "I can't do this anymore, Alfred, I just can't."

God, his brother was so hysterical sometimes. He always blew things out of proportion and always bitched and moaned about how Alfred wasn't being responsible, but Alfred saw an issue and you know what, Alfred acted, that was more than Matthew could say for himself.

But, of course, it wasn't Alfred's job to tell Matt how timid he was. Alfred struggled to sit up under the wires checking his pulse and the IV lines and the oxygen mask, and leaned over to give Mattie a reassuring squeeze on the knee, and a kind smile, because it was alright.

"Mattie, come on now, I've gotten into scrapes worse than this. I'm a fireman, remember—"

Matthew looked at the nurse, eyes wide. "He does this. He's fine for a few months and then he'll do something fucking stupid like this and—and—he's never done anything like this before. It's just—he'll climb trees to get cats or walk around at night being a vigilante he's never… never…"

The nurse clicked her tongue.

…

In hindsight, Alfred should have lied.

He had nothing against the nurse, he was sure she was perfectly fine in her spare time, but also she was sort of a giant bitch.

…

This new nurse, a woman with a smile that was much warmer than the other nurse, took his blood pressures and asked him if he was on any medication, explained her name was Amy, and that she was going to be showing him around, where the bathrooms were, that he had to keep his wristband on with his name.

The whole place was basically a giant circle, with rooms lining either side—well, not a circle, but a square, but it looped around—and there was only one set of doors out, the one that Alfred came through. He had been buzzed in and then Amy had relocked the doors.

"Hey, Amy," Alfred said, giving her a warm smile, "why are the doors locked?"

Well, apparently not everyone wanted to be here, which was fair. Alfred didn't particularly want to be here either, but he wondered if Amy thought he was one of the unruly ones, because of course he wasn't, even if that bitchy nurse had listened to his hysterical brother, but this was a misunderstanding.

Alfred found that if he was agreeable, even if it was silly, people cut him slack.

Still though. He eyed the locked doors as they passed by. And the nurses' station was locked. He watched the nurses—who didn't wear scrubs, even though they were in the hospital—jingle their keys to enter the sections Alfred was barred from.

Amy returned. "Have you ever taken antipsychotic pills, Alfred?"

"Nah, I'm healthy."

Amy nodded, and then explained that he wasn't a fireman—Jesus, what was it with these people? You'd think they had his autobiography run through an antonym machine—and that these pills would help him have a better grip on his "situation."

Alfred smiled and swallowed them down pleasantly enough.

At least Matthew had brought him an overnight bag.

…

Alfred had never had a roommate before.

Alfred watched his sleeping form intently, chin resting in his hand. The only roommate he had ever had was Mattie, and it was exactly as much fun as was to be expected. Matthew hadn't even let Alfred get a dog—can you believe that? Get a dog, like Matt was his dad or some shit.

"Can I help you?" The roommate was looking at Alfred.

Alfred grinned. "Good, you're up. I'm Alfred F. Jones, and I'm a fireman. I hope we can split this rent evenly between the two of us, and I'm getting a dog, so I hope you're a dog person."

The roommate blinked at him. "Hello, Alfred, it's three in the morning. I would appreciate it if you would stop muttering and let me get some sleep."

Ah, so if that was how the roommate was going to be, that was fine. But of course, they wouldn't let Alfred switch roommates, it was too late or early or something, and this other nurse was much bigger and had an actual uniform on, and he told Alfred to get back to bed in a way Alfred was familiar with, because it was usually how people spoke to him before they punched him.

"Hey, easy, big guy! Alright, alright, I'm going to bed. It's just that this guy over here sucks, and—"

"Back to bed, Jones."

Two out of the three nurses so far were giant dickheads. Alfred was not impressed.

…

"Alfred?"

Alfred stood up and gave a little bow to the circle. "Hello, all! I am Alfred F. Jones, the best damn fireman this side of the Mississippi, which is saying a lot, considering how heavily populated the East Coast is! See these burns? I got them from saving people from a blaze! I had smoke inhalation."

Of course, no one was awake this early in the morning, and the nurses took his blood pressure and talked to him in soothing voices and gave him more pills and no one even asked what it was like being a fucking fireman, which was cool as shit, but whatever, fine.

One jumpy kid gave him a curious look. "Are you really a fireman?"

Alfred jumped on the opportunity this—what was his name? Feli-something? This Feli, then—gave him. Yes, you should have seen the fire. Alfred threw his hands in the air, making a whooshing noise of the timbers being eaten—the heat, Feli, you could have felt it from forty feet away, and it was night, of course, so Alfred's eyes had been drawn to the light like a moth to a flame, the cinders flying into the air so high they could have burned the underside of planes—

Which was a thought, because Alfred had a pilot's license, too—

But the fire, yes, and Alfred had just known there was someone calling for help, trapped under a fallen support beam, so of course Alfred had barged in there, searching frantically through the smoke, his glasses practically melting on his nose.

Feli watched, enraptured, captivated by this story, and Alfred was happy he could make at least one friend in this place.

…

The afternoon brought with it drowsiness. Alfred sat on his bed, looking at the bandages on his hands, rerunning the story he had told that Feli-kid, fixing details he had forgotten, like how this woman was worried about her baby and was yelling for help, that was—

"I haven't introduced myself."

Alfred looked up at the shit roommate. "Oh, now you want to talk?"

"Yes, when it's not the middle of the night, I think you will find me much more amicable. I'm Ivan."

Alfred rolled his eyes.

"So, you're a fireman? I heard that little story you told Feliciano."

Ah, so Ivan had been listening. Well, good. "Yeah, but I had forgotten some stuff. There's a lot to it, you know, there's a lot to saving people."

"And being a pilot?"

That's right, that's where Alfred had received his firefighting training. You just don't show up to a big ass fire without training, so they taught that in the air force, in case the planes ever caught fire on the air force ships, or the field, how to save people. Alfred wasn't lying about that, Alfred didn't lie, like everyone kept saying.

Ivan asked after Alfred's hands, and Alfred had to end up showing him the burns, explaining how it had been from moving fallen timbers, and of course he usually wore gear, but there was no time to act, this lady was screaming for her kid and what was Alfred going to do? What was smoke inhalation to saving a child? A baby, two actually.

Sometimes, you just needed to act.

Ivan gave him a look—probably feeling bad he had been a dick earlier. But by this point, Alfred was tired of talking.

…

Alfred didn't like this doctor.

"Alfred, I'm going to need you to cooperate. The only way you can get better is to work with me here."

The doctor was fucking condescending, that's what. There was nothing wrong with Alfred, this was all a misunderstanding, for fuck's sake Alfred was a pilot, he had saved a family from a fucking fire, he didn't need to be in the hospital, right?

And how were the meds making Alfred feel?

Tired, they were making him tired and sluggish. Alfred had slept all afternoon, and then had been kept in his room by another dickhead nurse who said it was too late to walk, so Alfred was left jiggling his knee all night and wondering where the fuck all his shoelaces had gone, and why hadn't Matthew packed him anything to do.

And look, he had a twitch.

"That's a side effect."

To what?

And then the doctor spouted off the name of the medication which meant dick-all to Alfred, and again, they were antipsychotic meds, but Alfred wasn't doing anything psychotic!

It was like having the same conversation on a loop.

…

"Alfred."

Alfred focused on Matthew. "Please tell me you brought something for me to do. I'm bouncing off the walls here, I'm going fucking crazy."

Matt nodded. "I brought you the stuff you keep hidden under your bed."

The good stuff, how did he know where Alfred kept the good stuff? All the good comics collectors would kill to have—

"Alfred."

"Yeah?"

"Alfred, why do you think you're a pilot?"

"Because how else would I have training for the fire?" Alfred held up his bandaged hands.

Mattie nodded. "So, you're in the military?"

"Yes."

Mattie nodded again. "Okay. How old are you?"

"Do you seriously not know how old I am?"

"Of course I do, I'm your brother. Just humor me and I'll give you comics."

Alfred rolled his eyes. He loved his brother, but look, again with the dad shit, the ultimatums! "I'm twenty-four."

"Okay, and when did you go to the military?"

"I—"

Mattie leaned forward. "No, think about it. It wasn't when you were eighteen, right? Because you went to college for a bit, remember? Until you were twenty-two, right? And then we moved closer to our Dads, right? How were you trained and deployed in two years?"

"People are trained and deployed in two years—"

"No, because you were there for the vow renewals, right?"

Alfred frowned. Yeah, that was right, that shit was boring and long and sappy, and Alfred had nearly torn his skin off keeping still that long, but he had smiled and hugged everyone like his Father had told him to do, good boy.

"Alfred, you're not a pilot, right?"

Right, yeah, of course. Who the fuck had been saying he's a pilot? That's stupid—although, of course, he could see where the confusion could come in, Alfred was very trim and had the calm demeanor of a pilot—but Alfred hadn't had the time to enlist, unfortunately, he was busy at school.

And busy with the volunteer firefighters, of course.

But Alfred kept that to himself and Mattie gave him a box filled with, finally, something interesting.

…

Feli was saying something interesting. "I know it's all in my head, I get that, but it doesn't stop me from hearing things, you know? And then you start to wonder what's real or not, because how can you really know, know, you know? Because sometimes you ignore something and it's real."

…

Ivan tilted his head. "What are you thinking about?"

Alfred picked at the scabs on his hands, irritated with them. They were itchy and he was tired and twitchy and the shit Matthew had brought him had only lasted—only lasted for a few hours, and now Alfred was without things to do, and he was stuck watching boring movies and walking outside for like, two seconds.

So that thing Feli had said the other day was eating at him. Because he had sounded delusional, right? That's what Alfred thought, anyways, because how the fuck do you mishear things that are real? Maybe fake things, but it's like when there's a ringing in your ears, you make a noise in your throat and the fake ringing fades back and you can figure out it was just the blood in your ears.

"Yes, Feliciano has schizophrenic."

Right, exactly, Alfred knew that shit, he was wondering more like, well, what was Alfred doing here? Clearly it was a misunderstanding, but Matthew had been here, and Matt didn't do anything without calling Papa and talking for fucking hours on end, so Alfred's parents knew he was here, but Alfred wasn't a schizo, just—

"You're not delusional?" Ivan asked, raising his eyebrows.

Alfred glared at him. "No, I'm not fucking delusional."

"You take the same pills as Feliciano, don't you?"

Ivan didn't know if they were the same pills.

"I do, actually. Small, yellow, with a line through the middle."

Alfred's mind jumped back to that morning, when meds were being passed out. Yeah, yeah, that sounded about right. That's what his looked like, anyways, and yes, actually, he was sure Feli did take the same ones.

"Same ones Feliciano takes," Ivan insisted.

Well, clearly that was just a mistake, then. All Alfred had to do was go to one of the nurses and tell them they had messed up the medication, just knock on that glass and smile like he did and tell them no, he wasn't a schizophrenic, not like Feli—

"That wouldn't work though, would it?" Ivan asked.

Alfred hesitated at the door. Ivan knew what drugs he and Feli took. "Why wouldn't it?"

Ivan gave a casual shrug and leaned back against his pillows. "I could see them messing up your drugs once, twice, maybe even three times. But you've been here, what, two weeks now? You've talked to the doctor how many times, to your nurse Amy, and they keep giving you the 'wrong' drugs?"

"You're saying it's intentional?"

Ivan gave another little shrug and flipped a page in his book.

No, he couldn't just say that and fuck off. But that didn't make sense, Alfred was in a hospital, why would they give him the wrong medication on purpose? Although, none of the nurses wore any scrubs, and that was just sanitary, wasn't it, wearing scrubs? That had been bugging Alfred, and it was weird how they took his blood pressure, what did that have to do with anything?

And the twitch. Alfred looked at his hand that moved without his permission, and how he had been telling the doctor that he was drowsy. Or maybe they were placebo pills, doctors did that sometimes, too, to test medication. That would explain why they were giving it to Alfred, to test it.

Feli was absolutely no help. He had no idea what medication he was taking, or what it looked like, and he had no idea what his official diagnosis was, he just kept saying something about dopamine, which made no fucking sense. Feli had no idea if any of the nurses were registered, he had no idea what the doctor's last name even was because it was slipping Alfred's mind—

Wait, no it wasn't. What was it that Matthew had been saying the other day? Alfred had gone to college.

Of course Ivan knew what medication Alfred was taking, because Alfred had prescribed it to himself. Ivan must have seen the slip. Relief dropped down Alfred's back like warm water, and he smiled.

…

Ivan leaned close enough to whisper into Alfred's ear without Alfred's coworkers hearing. "I see you're still taking your pills."

Alfred pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and looked at Ivan through half-lidded eyes. "Of course I'm taking my pills. It would be dumb to waste the prescription. You're wrong, by the way, Feli and I don't take the same meds. I take Flutix and he takes Harbidrole. It's an easy mistake, really, they do look similar, but Harbidrole is used for schizophrenia, while I clearly don't have schizophrenia."

"Ah, so you're a doctor, now."

Yes, of course. Alfred was a little young, sure, but he was in advanced classes, and he was halfway through his residency before this little incident, he was studying—

"And the firefighting?"

What? Oh, yes, well, that was just on a volunteer basis, just to pad his resume so he could get into medical school, which was difficult enough, but Alfred managed it after only a year and a half at undergrad. It—

"So, if you don't mind me asking, why are you in a psych ward, Dr. Jones?"

Part of Alfred's residency, plus Alfred was feeling very stressed with medical school—

"And what is your diagnosis?"

"Like I said," Alfred said primly, "stress, mainly. That's what Flutix is used for. It has to do with dopamine."

"Oh, dopamine, of course. And dopamine has to do with stress, doesn't it, Dr. Jones."

"Yes." Alfred grinned. "Exactly. Very good."

"What are you studying?"

"Psychiatry."

Ivan tilted his head. "Could I ask you a question, Dr. Jones?"

"Of course. You are in a psych ward, of course, and I am studying psychiatry." Dr. Jones was a man of the people after all, and what was a little free consultation among—

"What would you diagnose me with?" Ivan's lips twitched into a small smile. "If you would allow me to pick your brain."

Well, that was an easy one. Ivan was clearly a neurotic, distrustful, prone to conspiracy theories. Dr. Jones didn't know how to concisely put it, but it was clear in the way Ivan distrusted the medication Alfred prescribed himself, and was generally shifty—

"I'm shifty?"

Dr. Jones blinked. "Yeah, you didn't want a roommate, right? Distrustful of someone new."

Ivan's eyes lit up. "Actually, I'm very pleased with the turn of events that led to my new roommate. Thank you, Alfred, this has been enlightening."

Ivan touched Dr. Jones' elbow lightly as he passed.

Dr. Jones watched him walk down the hall. Yeah, that's right, he could diagnose people, because he was a doctor, but he hadn't much time to really get an in-depth look into most patients' brains because he was still so new on the floor, but he had talked to Feli.

Feli glanced up as Dr. Jones approached and smiled, and boy, did Dr. Jones have some great news for Feli. No, Feli, Dr. Jones, Alfred was a doctor, please, stop deflecting, Dr. Jones had some great news for Feli, he didn't have schizophrenia, he had seizures.

Yes, Feli, that's what make sense, doesn't it? It explained the weird hallucinations, why Feli was so absentminded, a mild form of epilepsy, definitely, Feli should definitely let his primary care doctor know as soon as he saw her again—

Yes, of course Dr. Jones was a doctor, he was only a firefighter on a volunteer basis, and even that was pretty rare, no, listen, Feli, Dr. Jones had graduated early from medical school through an advanced program, and was in the middle of his residency and was here to get a feel of where he would be working, and also due to stress.

…

"A doctor? Alfred, does that make sense to you?" the fellow doctor sitting across from Dr. Jones asked.

"That's Dr. Jones to you."

Dr. Jones sat in stubborn silence and the doctor had the audacity to sigh and shuffle papers in front on him, saying they'll try again tomorrow, Alfred.

"That's Dr. Jones."

…

Dr. Jones sat on his bed, exhausted, watching Ivan, who wasn't doing all too terribly much. Now that Dr. Jones thought about it, both Ivan and Mattie did the same boring shit—namely, read a whole bunch. Didn't they get bored? Dr. Jones got bored watching them, and Dr. Jones was so fucking sick of being bored.

"What are you reading?" Alfred asked, nicking the book from Ivan's hands.

"Excuse me, I was reading that."

Yeah, and it was fucking boring. Dr. Jones walked back over to his bed and bent over the book, picking up where Ivan had left off, squinting through the dense, academic writing, trying to follow dates.

"It's a history book," Ivan said from the other side of the room.

Yeah, Dr. Jones could—

"Are you a fan of history?"

No, not really. It was always so dry for Dr. Jones' taste. It was cool when it was wars or explosions or spy missions, but mostly it was a lot of riots or picketing or death or presidents, and while it was interesting to learn, things like that didn't stick in Alfred's head very well, so he was left with a jumble of information and dates that didn't connect.

"I see." Ivan was clearly trying to get his book back with all this talk, but Dr. Jones wasn't—"What does stick in your head, then?"

"Physics." Alfred blinked at his own answer. "Math. Stuff with right and wrong answers."

Ivan watched Alfred flip through the pages of his book.

Alfred looked up. "I like space stuff. I thought it was really cool they could send satellites to different moons based on the gravity and orbit of other planets. I forget the word for it, but there's a way to make a satellite orbit around another body and then have it slingshot where you want it to go. Maybe it was slingshot-ing. Called that."

"So, my history book isn't very interesting to you, is it?"

Alfred snorted. No, of course it wasn't interesting, Dr. Jones only took it to see what was so fascinating—

"I have another book you might like."

If it was anything like the current book in Dr. Jones' possession—

Ivan sat up on his bed and reached underneath to pull out a plastic bin filled with books, enough to give even Matt a rough time of reading them all, which was saying something, and he moved a few stacks around until he found what he was looking for.

He held it out to Alfred. "Here."

Alfred already had a book—

Ivan waved the book in the air. "Come on, take it. You've read through those comics underneath your bed at least ten times, and I guarantee the book you have in your hands currently will put you to sleep faster than Flutix does."

Alfred stood and quickly exchanged books. Ivan didn't say another word, and curled back onto his bed, resuming where Alfred had left the pages.

Dr. Jones wasn't expecting much when he flipped open to a random page, but to his surprise, it was about space stuff. Granted, it was still boring ass history shit, but it went into the Cold War science behind all the space missions, how spies had stolen information.

Occasionally, Alfred would reach a part in the book that referenced something earlier that he hadn't read, so Alfred would need to flip back, but he would end up engrossed with this new part that led into the thing he had been reading later, so he would flip back and forth and back and forth and back and forth until there was nothing left.

And then Alfred started again.

…

Ivan glanced up at Alfred. "I was beginning to think I had lost you in there."

Alfred handed back the book and took a seat by Ivan on the ground because the chairs were too far away and Alfred had something he needed to do. He handed back the book and then handed him #4 of Mightnighter: Out.

Ivan raised an eyebrow and looked pleased. "I don't think I can spend three days reading a comic, but I will certainly do my…" Ivan actually seemed to get a good look at the cover. "There's… a hammer. And a sickle."

Yes, of course there was a hammer and sickle, Ivan was Russian.

"How did you know I was Russian?"

Well, it was easy with his last name and his accent, so slight that nothing but Alfred's trained ears could pick it up.

Alfred jumped up and nodded, because now Ivan could read about something he liked, as well, something he could connect with and take some hours away so he wasn't fidgety, either, something to keep his mind engaged and fingers from trembling even though he had told the doctor he was sick of the tic—

Ivan held the book back out. "You can keep it."

Alfred had snatched the book before he was even aware he had done it, it was just back in his hands. "You can't keep the comic."

"I wasn't planning to."

…

Few things went in the box, stuff that thieves and spies would spend hours pouring over, the smallest detail, the smallest word, the way the color faded into black or the way the plot twisted together from other stories to merge into a perfect issue that only made sense if you read the other ones, eyes red and tired and those who would spend days and days and days pouring over these things, studying, these are things that went in the box, to keep from those who would study instead.

These were precious things.

…

Alfred wondered, faintly whenever he caught himself waking up, why there weren't any windows in his room.

…

"You seem better."

Alfred glanced up from the table to Matthew, an ocean away on pills and the hard plastic-wood tables were made of. "There was nothing wrong with me to begin with." The words the doctor used came out across his tongue: "I get carried away with things."

Mattie let out a breath of air like a deflating balloon. "How are things?"

How were things? That was a question. "I sleep, a lot. And I've walked around that fucking ward enough times to wear a track in the linoleum, but I'm…"

He was what? Alfred could feel it, vaguely, something different, something just on the edge of his consciousness that usually got him going was bound and gagged, like the hum of a TV that was muted, a different sort of noise. It was strange and Alfred was afraid to think about it too much.

"It's good," Matthew said, firmly. "It's a good thing, the doctor said so."

Alfred frowned at this, and something about the phrase scratched at the back of his mind. Mattie told him about his shifts, about how Dad and Papa missed him and sent their love, of course. Alfred had the urge to scratch at his hairline.

"Are they coming to visit?"

Matt sighed again, and Alfred wondered when he had started doing that all the time, like everything Alfred said was the tenth time he had asked the same thing. "No, I don't think so. But I did bring you some things—"

"Why won't they visit?"

Matthew stared at him like a sinking ship. "Because they don't want to. They say it makes them too sad, Alfred, and I'm inclined to agree. What are you doing here!?"

That was a good question, wasn't it?

Matthew let out another fucking sigh. "God, Alfred, what are you doing here?"

"Well, do you have something to say?"

Matthew let out a little laugh. "Do I have something to say—do you think you'll hear it? Or will you just get that deranged look in your eye and start rambling away about some—" Mattie hissed the word: "Bullshit and ruin things again?"

That wasn't fucking fair, Alfred didn't ruin jackshit—

"Yes, you have, and what's worse, you don't even think, you're a million miles away—"

Across a sea— "How the fuck do you know what my doctor said?"

Matthew froze for just a second, in the middle of looking around, of his shoulders slumping. "I didn't, I just know what an improvement looks like."

Alfred stood. "You're fucking lying. You're not my emergency contact, I didn't give you permission to talk to my doctor, it's none of your fucking business about why I'm in here."

Matthew let out a laugh of sharp air. "It's not my business—do you hear yourself? Like I haven't been fucking forced into your business for years—"

"There you go again with that dad bullshit again!"

"What on earth are you—"

"You act like I'm a little kid!" Alfred loomed over Matthew.

Matthew didn't stand, face-to-face with Alfred, nose inches from his own, didn't shove him back, no, Mattie just sank further into his seat. "You are a little kid."

"Leave."

Matthew opened his mouth—

Alfred shoved Matthew, and his brother threw out his arms to stop himself from falling backwards out of the chair. "Alfred what the—"

"Leave and take your fucking party favors with you. They don't make up for the fact you use me to feel better about yourself, that treating me like an idiot makes you feel better because no one gives a shit about you, not Dad, not Papa, and especially not me."

Matt didn't even look up at him. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"

"No, I'm just usually too nice to tell you the obvious, but I'm sick of your sighing and I'm sick of the shit you bring me and I'm sick of you talking to my doctor and I'm sick of all of this!" Alfred whirled to the blond nurse hovering nearby. "And you can tell my fucking doctor that if I hear he's been talking to my brother, there's not a strong enough lock to keep me from leaving this place."

Now Matthew stood. "You're being—"

"Leave."

…

"You talked to my brother."

The doctor looked impassively back at him over his desk. "Does that bother you?"

"Yes, it fucking bothers me. What about doctor-patient confidentiality, doc? What about you not telling fucking lies to my brother about me?"

Oh, but they weren't lies, Alfred, he was just updating Matthew on Alfred's situation, but there wasn't a fucking situation! For fuck's sake, Alfred shouldn't be in here! And it was god damned illegal to keep him here without his permission.

"Matthew was concerned about your delusions, Alfred."

Delusions, delusions, what fucking delusions, those were misunderstandings, those were idiots, those were the doctor saying things about Alfred that just weren't true, maybe you're fucking delusional!

"Clearly, you're in no position to talk right now, Alfred. We'll try again tomorrow."

…

Alfred didn't care about the fucking penguins, or about their stupid fucking eggs, or about how they were still in fucking Antarctica even though they should have fucking died off hundreds of years ago, thousands, millions, the timescale of evolution.

Alfred felt his eyes flicking from person to person until he reached an awfully large gap he hadn't noticed before, and his eyes landed on Ivan, an island in the tightly packed folding chairs of movie night.

"Look at the chick, Alfred," Feli breathed next to him.

Feli kept saying stupid shit like that, while Ivan got to have three chair-lengths of space around him like an asteroid impact.

…

And one that followed Ivan around like a bubble.

…

In the morning vitals line, Alfred could have sat in a chair between Ivan and the next person.

…

At recreation time, Ivan by the window, reading, people moving around him like water around a smooth stone that licked his finger to turn pages.

…

At meals, a table to himself, a fortress, a minefield.

…

Outdoors, Ivan could have been a hiker, alone, the last one on the Earth, walking through a field with his hands behind his back and a tent he could set up in abandoned cities.

…

A lion gripped a gazelle in his teeth while Alfred neatly stepped over the chairs in front of him and sat down next to Ivan. If Ivan was surprised, if Alfred held more interest than the stupid fucking Savannah, he certainly didn't show it.

"People are afraid of you."

Ivan's eyes held only the screen in front of him and did not turn their attention to Alfred. "I am trying to watch the movie. Your voice is loud and distracting."

"You don't give a shit about the movie."

"Interesting conclusion, because I'm watching it."

Alfred looked between Ivan and the projection. "Who gives a shit about lions?"

"Obviously not you."

Ivan's eyes were still glued to the screen and it was pissing Alfred right the fuck off.

"No one talks to you. All yesterday, no one, just the nurses and I would guess your doctor, but it must get lonely. All you do is read books and watch the shitty documentaries and nod when the nurses ask you to do something, and you don't have visitors that often, and you read fast and no one else reads the things you do so you have no one to talk to about them."

Finally, Ivan turned his eyes "So, Mr. Popular is pitying me? I have some bad news: I'm not going to sit at your lunch table."

"I wasn't inviting you." Alfred grinned at him. "But you are lonely. Or something. You didn't answer my questions, see, you're fucking deflecting and that shit doesn't work anymore. I might twitch like a motherfucker but you're lying, Braginski."

Half of Ivan's face was illuminated by the sunlit world an ocean away, and the other half was not. "And what am I lying about, Jones?"

Alfred stood and a shadow ate the projection. "You would totally sit at my lunch table if I invited you."

…

Ivan did not have any more books. He had boxes and boxes full of shit, but he did not have any more books, and Alfred should know, he had been digging under Ivan's bed nearly all evening, pulling out waste of tree pulp after waste of tree pulp and flipping to a random page only to find it wholly uninteresting.

Ivan had watched him at first, but he had soon picked up one of the books Alfred had tossed irritably away and began reading, trusting Alfred enough to look through his precious information. Not that there was much. Just shit.

"You know," Ivan said, licking a finger, "I could suggest a book to you."

No, that wasn't what Alfred wanted. He didn't want a suggestion, he wanted a book to call to him like a beacon, something influential that would change his world view like people had experienced with the Bible, but less boring than the Bible, because Alfred had tried that one and found it both hard to read and also a waste of paper and honestly, did every single book Ivan own try to use the biggest word possible? Like look, here, extraordinary, couldn't they just use great?

Ivan proceeded to tell him about the merits of more precise words to communicate blah, blah, blah. Alfred watched Ivan's mouth move and watched his eyes continue to read as he lectured and the sound wasn't bad, soft. Alfred looked up at Ivan from his position on the floor, his feet under Ivan's bed, and thought about how few people had seen Ivan from this angle, looking up as Ivan read and talked, surrounded by books. And the sound really was quite lovely and Alfred just rested his head against Ivan's knee.

…

Alfred stared at the doorway, counting the shadows that walked by, counting his heart beat, dividing it by six, multiplied by twelve and a half and then subtracting by seven, fingers twitching, restarting when the shadows walked back in front of the door, boots heavy on the floor.

He had asked to go to the bathroom three times and it was only one in the morning, they were going to tell him to hold it if he didn't stop, they were going to call the nurses if he didn't stop—

"What are you thinking about?"

Alfred looked over to the other side of the room and found a companion in bed, sitting up, eyes bright in the gloom.

"I don't want to sleep." Alfred held up his hand and watched his hand trembled. "It feels like all I've been doing is sleeping and I don't want to do it anymore." Like a fog had settled over him, slowing his movements, the whole world banging on his front door and demanding his attention. And the world was so boring.

"It is boring," Ivan said softly, "isn't it?"

Alfred blinked up at him, suddenly unsure if he had spoken aloud or not. "Why are you here, Ivan?"

Ivan head turned away from the light of the hallway, and if there had been a window in this jailcell, Ivan would have been looking out it and considering the question. As it was, he looked at the cinderblock walls and took longer to respond. "Because I was ordered to be here."

This clicked into place in Alfred's mind. So that was why people were afraid of him, because he wasn't kept here against his will by the hospital, but by someone else, because he didn't take the same pills in the morning and his responses weren't the same in group. Because someone higher had looked at Ivan and decided to make him come here.

"And why are you here, Alfred?"

Why was Alfred here. It was all people seemed to be asking him these days, and Alfred watched the shadow walk across the door and counted his heartbeat and divided and multiplied and subtracted and almost forgot to respond to a question that had been haunting him the past few days. "I'm not like Feli."

"No. No, you are most certainly not like Feliciano. Which begs the question, doesn't it?"

"I think… I think Mattie put me here." Alfred picked at some weird, dry stuff on his hands, wondering where it had come from, why it was there, when things like this started to bug him when they so clearly hadn't before. Had they? "Do you think that medication works?"

"Flutix?"

What the fuck was Flutix? "No, the shit they give me. The same bullshit they give Feli. Do you think it works? Do you think it's working? Do you—"

"I certainly think it does something."

Ivan's figure swam in Alfred's vision and his eyes burned and his head was full of fuzz and he could feel the darkness pulling him down, pulling his eyelids down and his head started to dip even as he jerked up to try and stay awake and even as Ivan stood and walked over to him and it felt so good to slip into that blank space in his head and give in and Ivan looked down at him and

…

Alfred frowned. "Where did you get that?"

Feli looked up. "Hm?"

Alfred pointed at the brownie Feli was holding. "Where did you get that? I didn't get one, and everyone else only gets Jell-O here for dessert. How the fuck did you get a brownie, Feli?"

Feli looked at the brownie in his hand like he was surprised to see it there, the fucker. "Oh, um, I don't know. It was just on my food tray, and I just thought that I could eat it because it was there—"

"Why didn't anyone else get a brownie?" Alfred leaned over and snatched the paper slip that detailed Feli's food order, and yep, the slip had Feli's name on it, so he hadn't taken someone else's tray by accident. "What makes you so special that you get a good dessert?"

Feli was staring at him with wide eyes, frozen, scrambling for an excuse. "I—I don't know, I just eat what they—"

"No, that's bullshit. They have a locked room and you have to ride on an elevator to get up here, they don't make mistakes, there aren't any windows. You didn't just get a brownie by mistake. There's other shit, too, you get more bathroom breaks at night, and I bet you there's other shit I didn't notice, either."

"Alfred," Feli said, voice bordering on yelling, defensive, "I don't know why I got a brownie." His voice wavered and his eyes were glassy and Alfred wasn't buying that shit for a second. "But I'm sure if I just tell—"

"Alfred." Ivan's voice was like a fire extinguisher, cold and calm and dousing, a tone that could get in your lungs and seep into your bloodstream and calm anger. Alfred hadn't even heard him walk over, and he leaned backwards to look at him. "Could I talk to you for a moment?"

Alfred shoved himself away from the table, glaring at Feli as Ivan gently led him away by the small of the back to the corner of the room, where he stood, head tilted as Alfred explained that Feli was fucking shifty as fuck, the brownie was just the final straw, something was off and Alfred didn't know what but Feli definitely had connections, he had a key to this place, a key or could feed notes through the heating vents to the kitchen—

"Alfred, do you really think Feliciano could pull all that off?"

Alfred watched Feli stare at his brownie, eyes wet and breath hitching, the schizo.

"Right, see," Ivan murmured, "it doesn't make sense for Feliciano to be the one orchestrating any grand brownie heist, does it?"

No. No, Alfred supposed not. No, but he was caught up in something, something he had no idea about, right over his head, a mile high. It was just a matter of who, and of course the obvious answer were the people keeping Feli here, and by extension, the people keeping Alfred here, but why, and what did the brownie have to do with it?

Well, it was obviously a reward, even if poor, stupid Feli had no idea it was. But, if there was one thing Feli was, was talkative, he could talk about the color of the tiles or about flowers or other dumb shit, so he was a spy—

"Come on Alfred, you can do better than that." Ivan looked over his shoulder at Feli. "I do wonder the coincidence, though, don't you?"

Okay, start over, Feli wasn't a spy, he was just a bystander. And Feli wasn't going to put two and two together, obviously, so that just…

Alfred bounced on the balls of his feet. "It has to do with me, I bet you. I'm the only guy in this place who's going to notice something like that, the only one who can put this together. It was a message from…"

From someone, and Alfred felt his brow furrow as he dug for answers.

"Feliciano as a means of communication. Yes, Alfred, I like that. Good boy."

…

Alfred couldn't think. He could feel the thoughts scatter away from him like marbles, ones he was constantly tripping over himself trying to capture, marbles covered in butter. Other thoughts kept interrupting on everything, stupid thoughts that made him hesitate and worry about instead.

When the doctor asked about Matthew, Alfred found himself wondering about Matt, where he was, if he missed Alfred, what he was doing with all of Alfred's stuff, how Dad and Papa were, how Matthew was, if he was still mad at Alfred, and Alfred found himself unable to remember Matthew's number when he tried to call, which just sent his mind spiraling more because what if Matthew had died of carbon monoxide poisoning, it was Alfred who had always checked the alarms and changed the batteries, how the apartment was, how Matthew was paying rent without Alfred's contribution and on and on and on and if Matt was mad at Alfred.

When Feli started avoiding him for whatever reason, Alfred's mind got on about that. Why was Feli avoiding him? It hardly seemed fair and Alfred hadn't even done anything besides out the obvious, so now Alfred watched Feli eat alone like a loser and Feli avoided looking at him and he got quiet and it was just such bullshit that Alfred couldn't comprehend it.

And Ivan. Alfred found Ivan plaguing Alfred's train of thought like a bandit. He had been ordered to be here, what could that fascinating thing mean, and did it have to do with the books Ivan read. He had touched Alfred's elbow and his back and had called Alfred a good boy, and he was always there to suggest something that Alfred hadn't even considered, make Alfred's mind reel with the possibilities and he seemed to like doing it, and he caught Ivan looking at him, head tilted and Alfred needed to figure out who was trying to get a message to him.

During movie nights, Alfred pressed his knee against Ivan's and watched Ivan pretend to ignore him.

Alfred changed in front of Ivan after his showers, dripping wet and slick, humming like he wasn't aware he was doing it, and he reveled in the eyes Ivan had for him.

But.

He needed to get his mind back on topic. He couldn't think. And there was something up with the brownie—

"For the love of God, Alfred, stop with the brownie."

-and so Alfred had a plan. Alfred had big tonsils. When he was younger, he would stare at himself in the mirror, examining his eyes and his eyebrows and his hair and his teeth and the thing that dangled from the back of his throat and his tonsils. He had forced Mathew's mouth open (and nearly gotten a finger chomped off for his trouble) to compare, and Alfred's tonsils were much, much bigger.

"I hardly see what this has to do with the brownie, or more importantly, what this has to do with your special message." Ivan was pretending to read, like he did when Alfred told him his plans.

The next morning, waiting for his meds, Alfred pretended to swallow them as the nurse checked his cheeks and tongue and cheeks, but in reality they were resting on his tonsils. If he flexed his throat right, his tonsils stuck out, catching the pills like a net catching litter from his stream of thought.

Alfred waited for the nurse to move off, and then coughed up the pills into palm of his hand grinned at Ivan.

Ivan looked at the pills. "That was disgusting," he said mildly. "But clever."

"Of course it was��clever. I'm clever. Now," Alfred said, flicking the pills through the heating vent, "I can think again."

"And what a delight that will be."

Alfred grinned.

…

Ordered to be here.

Alfred watched Ivan's sleeping form as the words ran over and over again in his head. Ordered to be here by who?

Someone stalked by the doorframe and Alfred watched them without his glasses on and in a half-haze of exhaustion and his mind couldn't connect the two pieces because that nurse was familiar, wasn't he, Alfred had seen him before, he knew it, he knew it.

…

It was like Alfred had downed energy drinks, he felt like he was on top of the world, a map spread before him and he could freely wander around it and no Feli, he wasn't hyper today, this was how he always was, it's just that Feli didn't notice things like Alfred did, not that it's a bad thing.

Well, Feli, it was simple really. Remember the brownie, it was apart of something bigger, something Feli hadn't realized before. It was a test, test for Alfred, to check how with it he was, if he was still trusting the pills they gave out—not that he wasn't taking them—but it had to do with the management. Did you ever notice how everything is locked around here, no, probably not, but the only way in and out: locked. The nurse's station: locked. Certain rooms, random rooms, one where Alfred had gotten his blood tested: locked. It didn't make sense because Alfred wasn't a threat to anyone.

It was the doctor. The head doctor, the one who ran everything—no, Feli, he isn't nice—well, if he was nice, that was just a ploy to get people to trust him. Clearly, he wasn't a good guy. That was the only thing that made sense to Alfred, that he was keeping people here against their will. People like Alfred, who shouldn't be here, and Ivan, who was ordered to be here, people like Feli who couldn't do much, even if he wanted to.

"Really?" Ivan asked. "Why would he want to keep people here?"

Well, that was simple, wasn't it? Doctors had egos, everyone knew that, almost as bad as ER nurses, and they liked to flex them. So when doctors like…

"Dr. Väinämöinen."

Right, yes, Dr. V, got some people who were misunderstood, it made him feel like he had a big dick to keep Alfred here, the fucker. But he wasn't completely evil, he just wanted to see if you were smarter than him, if you could solve his puzzles, catch his clues, he would let you go. Shit like the brownie.

"You are obsessed with this brownie."

It's all apart of the puzzle, Ivan.

And it made sense, too, that fucker was condescending as fuck, broke trust constantly, didn't give a fuck about doctor-patient confidentiality, flagrantly threw his weight around by ordering bullshit prescriptions, ignored complaints, and was generally just a giant cock.

…

There was something new in his box, something that shouldn't be there, something sharp. It was a box cutter, at the very bottom, hidden under a broken gyroscope and old thermometer, one Alfred had never seen before in his life, with a fresh, crisp blade, one that fit into his palm like it had been molded to.

…

There was something higher than the doctor, Ivan. The doctor must have a boss, right? Someone who looked into the workings of this whole fucking locked loop and laughed about it. This higher-someone knew about the doctor and knew about Alfred, had seen him in the ER, had picked him for this game. This higher-someone, that's who was—

"Alfred." Ivan's breath was hot against Alfred's neck and his toes were cold against Alfred's legs. "It's too late for this."

"But you believe me." Alfred rolled his head to look at Ivan, searching his face in the gloom. "This person, they're the one who ordered you to be here, right? You're a spy, you're someone who reports back to him, aren't you?" Alfred looked for a confirmation in a movement of Ivan's face.

Ivan reached a hand up and ran a finger along Alfred's jawline.

And there were two sections, one working for the doctor and one working for the higher person—

"The General?"

Yes, the General, some were working for him, some for the doctor, and the one working for the General, they were the one sending messages to Alfred, they were the ones who wanted to get him and Ivan out, Alfred had figured it out, didn't Ivan see, it was so simple, Alfred felt like an idiot for not seeing it soon—

"Do you know all those books I read, Alfred?"

Yes—

"I would burn all those books just to listen to you talk for ten minutes."

"Ten?"

Ivan let out a sigh and bit Alfred gently on the shoulder, then kissed him in the same spot, lightly, Alfred barely felt his lips there, light as a snowflake melting. "Five, even. But it is late, and the guards will change shifts soon."

Ivan stood and retreated to his bed and left Alfred aching after cold toes.

Alfred knew what he had to do.

…

"I want to talk," Alfred said.

The doctor looked at him with interest. "That's what I'm here for, after all."

No, Alfred was going to speak and the doctor was going to listen, and then he was going to decide. Alfred wasn't stupid, he had figured out what was going on around here. It hadn't been easy, but it made sense now, the pills, the wrongful imprisonment—

No, doctor, Alfred was going to speak first.

The wrongful imprisonment, the hints, the little things, the brownie, the gift someone had sent him, Mattie turning his back on Alfred, all these had melded into a perfect picture of what was going on around here.

And, Alfred spoke louder for the microphones no doubt planted around the room, he had figured out what the General was asking him to do. But Alfred was going to give the doctor a choice first, because Alfred was a good guy. Now, the good doctor could either let Alfred go and explain to Matthew that this whole thing was a mistake, could release Ivan and stop playing this demented game—let everyone go who didn't deserve to be here, or the doctor would see exactly what the General had planned for him.

No, answer the question first.

Answer the question.

Alright, fine, if that's how he wanted to do things. And so Alfred stood and showed him the gift the General had sent him.

The doctor stood immediately but his feet got caught up in the chair and he half fell on his desk, papers—Alfred's paper, papers that tracked his progress at the games and notes to the General—slid from the folder to the floor and Alfred had made it around the edge of the desk and the doctor was looking up at him with wide eyes and Alfred raised the gift and Alfred brought the gift down but the doctor had been raising his hands and Alfred's gift came down there instead of—instead of—

And now the doctor was bleeding and yelling and there was so much blood, dripping down his arms and off his elbows and falling to the ground and getting on those white notes and he shied away from Alfred and the doctor's feet finally came free of the chair and he slumped against the wall looking at his ruined palms and another fresh wave of blood seeped down his arms and Alfred suddenly didn't know what the General wanted now and he backed away and he looked around for the cameras and he told the doctor:

"I want to leave now."

The doctor nodded at him. "Alright, Alfred." His voice was small and scared but his face was composed even as he held his hands uselessly in front of him, and Alfred could see he had gotten him in between the thumb and the pointer finger and his thumb hung down at an odd angle that made Alfred's stomach turn.

And then a nurse burst into the room and Alfred was slammed into the ground and he was sorry, he didn't mean to, he got it wrong, he was sorry, he didn't want to hurt anyone he just wanted to go, please let him go home please please please

#aph rusame #rusame #APH America #APH Russia #hetalia fanfic #writing #hetalia fanfiction #asylum #alfred f jones #ivan braginski

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thong-in-the-twist · 6 years ago

Text

An angel, a chair, and a rockstar

Your pole dancing coach suffers from an accident. Her replacement is nothing like her, starting from the fact that your new coach is not even a woman.

A.k.a it’s 10.4K of the plot with eventual sex and author losing her mind somewhere in the middle. I guess it’s my way to celebrate EXO’s comeback by posting porn that is not even porn, and plot that is nowhere connected to the comeback.

You hum appreciatively when Miyeon shows you impressive bruises on her arm. Your immediate reaction is to point your own bruise on the inside of your knee. She nods knowingly and starts talking about the way her sore muscles obstruct her on her daily life. There is a certain pride in her words and you identify with that pride. Of course, it hurts, but this pain is satisfying, this pain is a result of your own efforts.

Soft ambience music is playing in the background and your surroundings are rather soothing. There are six girls in the room. Floor covered is with pale panels, walls are grey with green elements and one wall is covered with full lengths mirrors. Sports equipment on the sides just adds to the vibe of a dancing studio, and that’s exactly where you are at.

You are seating on turquoise bean bag talking to Miyeon and you are waiting for your class to start. What is unusual in this picture is the fact that your trainer is missing. She was usually the first one in, and she was usually the one to greet you in the doors. Your studio is small, occupating one ground floor apartment. There is a small changing room, toilet, and the rest of the place is taken by practice room itself. You were given the door password and that was it. You actually loved how it worked, so familiar and so cosy.

But today when you came, music was already playing, but the trainer was nowhere to be seen. Miyeon mentioned it with a wondering voice and Dahye shrugged while mussing that maybe Yanghee went out to make a call. You checked your mail but she didn’t reschedule your session.

The hour has come and nothing happens so you stretch and stand up, noticing that Dahye has the same idea. You can warm up while waiting, as not to lose time. You walk over to your favourite spot and your hand idly lands on a thing that sets this studio apart from usual ones.

The pole.

There are seven sturdy metal poles set in the floor of the studio and secured on the ceiling. Three of them have a turquoise coating and those poles make the set up less threatening. You stopped at one of the “naked” poles because although coat is supposed to make pole less slippery and serve for easier grip, at the same time it means more friction between body and pole which means way more pain. And as much as you like your bruises you don’t actively search for more of them.

You start rolling your head to warm up your neck when you hear the sound of doors opening. There is a wall separating entrance and practice room, to give you a little bit of privacy would someone mistakenly enter the studio.

“Ok, girls, sorry for being late!”

That is not your coach’s voice. That’s what stops you and you turn around feeling both curious and apprehensive. This voice is not even feminine.

Sure enough from behind the wall appears the man. He has short, messy, black hair, little studs in his protruding ears, sharp cheekbones and even sharper stare. He is wearing a hoodie and sweats, there is also a sports bag on his shoulder.

He doesn’t look like your trainer, that much is obvious. He doesn’t look like he belongs here – he looks quirky but more like he should be entering a gym, not a pole dancing studio.

“During the last competition Yanghee slipped and dislocated her shoulder, and she asked me to fill in for her, and so – here I am,” he continues as if he was oblivious to the fact he doesn’t match the environment he is in. You glance at Miyeon whose mistrust is clearly visible on her face as she watches the man throw his bag on the ground next to bean bags. He takes off his hoodie, revealing his tank top. “My name is Kim Jongdae and for the next six weeks I will be teaching you, and I hope we will have fun together!”

You can’t focus on his words because his arms are clearly muscular – but again it doesn’t say pole dance, it screams gym. He kicks off his sneakers and you have a moment of panic, but you are not quick enough to turn away when he just drags down his sweats.

One of the girls emits a choked, muffled sound which you can identify with. You were not expecting to see body fitting shorts on the gym dude (although in the hindsight studs in his ears could have been the first clue) and you were not expecting him to be cleanly shaved either.

“Ok,” he says still mindless to your internalized confusion. His legs are muscled, crooked in a way that tells you he enjoyed playing football when he was younger, but they are hairless. “Let’s get ready with a warm-up!”

He walks over to a tablet laying next to the speakers and changes music to a faster playlist. Then he walks over to the central pole, where your trainer usually stands and without further ado he starts the warm-up.

You exchange quick glances with Dahye and begrudgingly follow his suit. There is nothing unusual in the way he leads the warm up. Part after part you warm up your bodies, Jongdae’s eyes following your movement in the mirror and ad-libing corrections and encouragements if he deems them needed.

But it is still weird. When you watched Yanghee you admired her body as one can admire art – in a platonic way. With Jongdae noticing how good his ass looks isn’t about admiring the work put into that ass, but it is about Jongdae being one fine specimen.

Because even as he has just walked in, you found him attractive. You’d swipe right on him in a heartbeat. Which incidentally means you are not that happy to have him as a trainer. He is very nice to look at and that’s a fact, but you are not happy to be working out next to him. It’s not the right type “getting sweaty”.

“Ok, great girls! Drink water, clean your poles and we’ll start with strength exercises,” announces Jongdae and you walk over to where you left your bottle. Miyeon joins you and it is clear she wants to discuss Jongdae but can’t. Somehow you know exactly what she wants to say.

In the meantime, Jongdae changes the music, grabs wipe and sprays cleaning solution on it. And then he grabs his pole with his free hand, jumps in the air, the hand with the wipe in it grabbing the pole way higher and he pivots on the pole, sliding down while cleaning it.

You have been training pole dancing long enough to see that even if it looks effortless (and impressing), it’s not. His lower hand is steady on the pole, arm bent as it steadies him. His body is tensed and toes pointed to keep his back in one line with his legs. What you can’t ignore is how good he looks like this. Warm-up was intensive enough for him to develop a fine sheen of sweat on his body which means his skin is glistening.

You look away realizing that lusting after your trainer might not be the best idea.

“Unfortunately Yanghee didn’t tell me what you did until now, so I will have to slowly feel you out, if that’s ok,” Jongdae says, flashing all of you a playful smile. It’s so clear that none of you is comfortable with Jongdae as your coach that no one laughs. His smile doesn’t fall but you catch him exhale as if he was calming himself down. “Well, then, let’s start with a firefighter. I guess you have practised it already?” Scattered hums confirm it and Jongdae nods. “Alright, how about climbing?” Another round of confirmations. He stands with the pole on his left, his left hand grabbing it high, as right hand catches the pole at his chest level. “Then let’s start off with the firefighter, moving into the climb, all while spinning.”

As he talks, he starts his spin, right leg pressing into the pole from the front, while left leg hooks behind it. He shows off the way his legs are crossed on it, supporting his weight as all of you watch the correct firefighter technique. After a moment he straightens, his knees squeezing the pole, as he moves his hands higher. When he’s secured his hold he brings his legs up, one more time crossing them on the pole – once more showing off the firefighter. After that, he climbs up once more and playfully slaps the ceiling.

“If you are spinning too fast, just push your body away from the pole,” he says, leaning back, his spins slowing down. Your eyes fall to his legs and you can’t help but notice how perfectly sculpted his thighs are, and how good they look while squeezing the pole. “Don’t jump off the pole, you are going down the same way you went up!”

You wait for him to show how one should go down the pole and you go to try it. You’ve finally started climbing two weeks ago, but firefighter you could do for more than a month now, so it didn’t seem scary. True enough, you are able to do it, not as smoothly as Jongdae, but a minute later you find yourself touching the ceiling. The studio is slowly filling with usual sounds, girls groaning and expressing their excitement when they manage something.

Surprisingly Jongdae’s comments harmonize nicely with usual jokes, but the group is still distrustful. It can be felt in a way girls get quiet he tries to joke. You actually feel bad for him – but not enough to be the only one to laugh.

But when you go down, and he throws nicely done at you, you smile at his reflection. He looks surprised but smiles back at you.

He is going to be your coach for six weeks, you might as well get used to that.

You are usually the first girl to arrive (you have issues with being late, and so you tend to arrive way before the scheduled time), and this time is no different. But this time Jongdae is already in. It’s your first time entering the studio with rock music playing and your coach doing pushups in the corner. He is wearing sweats and once more looks like a gym dude, not a pole one.

He hears you walk in because he sits back on his heels and looks around.

“Hi!” he calls over his shoulder and you greet him back. You feel awkward so you duck into changing room before he can say something else and you stay there sitting in your booty shorts and a tank top. The week before you considered dropping the tank top, but you don’t feel safe enough with Jongdae to walk around in only sports bra and booty shorts.

Finally, music changes from rock to warm-up music and other girls arrive. You walk out together as Jongdae is stretching his arm, wrist pressed against the pole. His sweats are gone and you notice a mole high on his thigh.

“Hi, girls!” he greets the group before he focuses on you. “Damn, it took you so long I considered rushing in, in case you lost consciousness or something.” His tone is clearly joking, but you can’t brush off the feeling that his words might have meant something more. You shrug awkwardly and just walk over to your pole. Even if he wants to comment, other girls follow your suit and he is forced to start the class.

You are pleasantly sweaty when Jongdae announces a short break and really eager to go on the pole. Pole dancing is not easy, it requires strength and technique and high pain threshold (especially in the beginning). But the satisfaction that comes with the correctly done figure you failed many times before? Unmatchable.

“How your sitting skills are coming along?” asks Jongdae changing music. The loud and unanimous whine that answers him startles all of you, even him. You are the first to laugh, but the rest of the girls join you – you just hate sitting on the pole so much. He shakes his head. “Yeah, I know, but you really need it for the more advanced figures.”

“But it hurts so much!” whines Dahye and you all murmur in agreement. At least until Jongdae turns to her.

“Oh, does it?” You are speechless at how sassy it sounds. Like, Yanghee would never mock any of you like this, opting for sharing your pain. You are not sure if Jongdae realizes how harsh it sounded and if he realizes that he just lost all the points he managed to gather.

You can sense hostility raising, but he doesn’t seem to care, walking over to his pole. He spins, using the force of the spin to bring himself close to the pole. His outer leg goes over his inside leg as he squeezes pole with his thighs – the rod as deep between his legs as it can. He sits with his legs crossed like girls tend to cross legs while sitting on a chair. You are pretty sure his crotch is flush with the metal. Scratch that, you know that, it’s how this technique is done.

“If I can sit on the pole, so can you girls,” he says, still in the spin.

You exchange glances with Miyeon, realizing that it’s true. It will hurt but you’ll do it.

Thirty seconds later you are screaming bloody murder as the pole is bruising your thighs. But you will survive. Just like Jongdae said, if someone with a dick can do it – so can you.

By the time you reach the fourth week of Jongdae teaching your group, you can’t imagine going back to Yanghee. Of course, she was great, but after being pushed to your limits by him twice a week, a thought of losing him is not pleasant.

It didn’t take him long to win over your group. It surprised you considering how hostile you were in the beginning, but he was as driven about winning your trust as he was when he pushed you during training sessions. By now he was freely joking with every single one of you, and he already knew how to encourage you.

So when you arrive for seventh class not only you change and walk out of the changing room as soon as you are done, but you also finally decide to drop the top. When you walk into the studio, Jongdae is doing pull-ups on rings hanging from the ceiling. That’s another thing you’ve become accustomed to. Whenever you came for the class Jongdae was already working out.

When he sees you, his left eyebrows twitches. It’s the only acknowledgement you get from him as he slowly finishes his reps. You try to act nonchalant, but you are way beyond awkward. Does it look bad? Is your tummy not flat enough? Why did you even think it’s a good idea? You walk past Jongdae, seeing his back in the mirror and you glance at yourself, sucking your belly in.

It doesn’t help you feel better, but you are also too embarrassed to go back and put your top on, so you cross your arms on your abdomen, hugging yourself and concealing your body. Why did you do it?

Did you think it might help you getting his attention?

A soft sound of feet on the panels tells you that Jongdae jumped off the rings. The embarrassment you feel makes it impossible for you to look at him so you feign assessing bruises on your ankles.

You have already become accustomed to never-ending bruise galore on your body.

You hear the sound of the passcode and a second later you can hear the sounds of girls coming in. You nearly jump to your feet, eager to see them and escape your awkwardness. In passing you see Jongdae staring at you.

Girls are very supportive of you choosing to work out in pole dancing attire. They coo over you and they compliment you, cheering you not to put on the top. It gives you enough courage to go out of the changing room without the top, and the first thing you see is Jongdae looking at you.

A shiver goes does your spine, but you ignore it. You are not going to be scared back into putting it. If Jongdae doesn’t think you can wear this outfit, it’s his problem.

You take your place next to the metal pole, refusing to look at Jongdae, even though you can see his reflection in the corner of your eye and you can see he is still looking at you. You catch Dahye and Yeonsu exchange glances.

Jongdae clears his throat and starts the warm-up. Now you are forced to look at him, but it’s different when you are doing it to follow his moves. You are very consciously keeping your belly sucked in, but you are telling yourself it’s good for your workout. Which is true, even though it feels forced.

By the time the warm-up ends you are twice as tired as usual – keeping muscles of your abdomen tensed makes your energy drain twice as quickly. Jongdae changes the music and you can see how apprehensive he looks and you do your best not to analyze it. You busy yourself with drinking water and cleaning your pole.

When Jongdae steps back into the circle of the poles, he clears his throat to grab the group’s attention.

“Ok, girls, you know some figures, some of them you have already perfected, so I thought today we would take it a step further,” he says, and you glance at Miyeon, who upon seeing your stare shrugs. You zero in back on Jongdae and he clears his throat once more and grabs the hem of his white tank top and swiftly takes it off.

You are so close to whimpering. Jongdae’s chest is all golden skin, sweat and defined lines of muscles. You are so not ok with how this class is going, it’s just unreal. You are not sure if he does it to make you feel less awkward, but it doesn’t help. It doesn’t help at all when he is wearing his tight shorts and nothing else.

And he looks so comfortable in his skin. He takes a step to the pole and easily jumps into a spin. You are lost for words when you look at him easily going through figures, all of which you already know and you can easily do, but the moment his foot touches the floor again – that’s when everything goes sour. He does one more spin, his legs drawing a circle on the floor and he spins around next to the pole, allowing his head to roll to the side at the finish – you catch his eyes, they are sultry. He leans against the pole, rod between his shoulder blades, and in a very smooth move, he spreads his legs, his weight supported with his hands on the pole. He waits for a second and slides down the pole, tempo matching the music.

It looks so lewd you can barely keep your eyes at him. Somehow you moved past technical pole dancing to strip club pole dancing, and damn you if it doesn’t look amazing on him.

He brings his feet back together, and with a body wave starting in his hips he stands back straight.

“Well, that would be it,” he says with an easy smile and you realize he is done. A quick glance at the rest of the group tells you that you are not the only one affected. “I am not the best at choreos but for now even my skill will do,” he continues and laughs. Neither of you can join in. He clears his throat, is he also uncomfortable? “Anyway, by the end of the class, I expect you to be able to dance this with me.”

After that, he urges you to follow him as he walks you through the steps. The group does it three times together with him and then he sends you on your way to practice.

You forget all about your embarrassment, it’s so fun! Learning figures is one thing, but being able to put them together and make something impressive out of that? You like how you look every time you catch yourself reflected in the mirror.

“Ok, nice on the technique,” you hear after you finish one of the tries and it’s Jongdae who apparently watched it. He is still shirtless and it doesn’t help you keep your eyes on his face. “But try feeling it? You are sexy, you should feel sexy, and you should definitely show how sexy you are,” he continues and his words send a jolt of electricity through your nervous system. You nod despite your cheeks getting warm and to your total mortification, you see that Jongdae’s ears are getting red as well. Oh my god.

The two of you clear your throats at the same time, and it’s painfully awkward. You know you should go back to practice, but you can’t look away from Jongdae, feeling frozen, and neither he breaks the eye contact.

Until Dahye calls him over. The awkward spell is broken, Jongdae turns around, and you lean against your pole. You feel a sudden strike on your ass and you welp. Miyeon has just kicked you.

“What?” you mouth to her angrily and she just glances pointedly at Jongdae. Something weird happens in your gut and you shrug. You don’t want to focus on that.

This time you want to take Jongdae’s words to your heart, so you take off the band that kept your hair in the ponytail. You are not sure if his words were only a figure of speech, but he said you are sexy. And suddenly you feel sexy. You try to turn your practice into a show, even if no one is looking.

The last part is the most fun, and you are able to match it to the music. You climb high on your toes as you lean against the metal rod and you stare at yourself in the mirror. You are sweaty, flushed, but your eyes are shining. You smile at yourself, and you spread your legs, your toes brushing the floor. A second before you slide down, you catch Jongdae staring at you in the mirror. He is standing on the other side of the studio, next to Yeonsu, with his arms crossed on his chest, but he is definitely looking at you.

You don’t know what takes over you, but you hold his stare steady, and you slide down the pole. You know that the finishing move should be the wave, but Jongdae is looking at you and your skin is tingling and you want to do something more. Your hands are steady on the pole and you know they are not going to give up, so you allow the pole to rotate, bringing you into a spin. You are low on the pole, so you don’t have enough space to work, but you hook one of your legs on it, the other straightening behind you, its toes circling on the floor, and you slowly push your hips forward, bring the straightened leg back under you. Both legs are now bent, knees far apart, with your feet together. You let your head roll to the side, your hair falling onto your back as you slowly slide down on the pole, still spinning, until your knees touch the floor and you let your hips go down as if you were sitting down on a dick.

You feel hot. You feel hot, you feel amazing, and you definitely feel sexy.

“Ok, keep practising, girls, I am going to get myself a cup of water,” you hear and you turn around to see Jongdae disappearing into the changing room. His voice sounds strained.

The stares you get from the rest of the group are definitely loaded.

Jongdae doesn’t try doing choreos again. You are not sure how to feel about that, but you definitely miss his naked chest, but you are comfortable enough to keep practising without a shirt. Also, the thing between you grows way more awkward and you can’t help it. You have already realized that your thing for your coach is something more than you’d like to admit, considering how you catch yourself daydreaming about him.

But he is not taking any steps to turn it into something more than coach-student relation and you are not sure if it’s because he doesn’t want it. But the inactivity drives you insane that’s why after the second to last class you stay behind when girls go to the changing room. You idle while cleaning up the pole and you go to the toilet, letting them all change and go. You are pretty sure they get the memo because they are out of the doors way quicker than usual.

When you go back to the practice room, Jongdae is tampering with the music.

“Want to help me out?” he asks, not looking up. Are you taken aback? Slightly.

“Sure,” you say nonetheless. He smiles, still looking at the tablet.

“I was asked to film one figure for a promotional video, and I need extra pair of hands,” he says and you shrug. Well, you can film him. He chooses the song and walks over to where you see a camera already on a tripod. He doesn’t need you if he has a tripod?

You are so hang-up on the tripod you don’t see the moment he loses his top. And once again you see the gold expanse of his chest. And once again you try not to whimper.

“You know the front hook, right?” he asks, and before you can answer. “Of course you do, that was your last figure in your modification of my choreo. Which was a pretty good addition if you ask me.”

You bite your lip, you were sure he was watching you till the end, but hearing the confirmation is pretty amazing.

“That’s a figure you can do as a pair. So… Would you mind doing it with me?”

Your throat goes dry. Going up the pole with Jongdae seems like a very good and yet very bad idea. But you nod.

“Normally it’s easier to do in a static way, but the spin will help you keep the position, so if you could start, I should be able to join you,” he says matter-of-factly and you can only nod, feeling lightheaded. You are not sure how it’s going to work, but you obediently go to the pole, grab it easily moving into a spin. Your inside leg hooks on the pole, and you keep your bent knees far apart. When you are comfortable you look at Jongdae and he sees it as a sign and turns on the camera.

Suddenly there are manly hands grabbing the pole over yours and his leg is hooking on the pole – the metal only thing between your thighs. Your reflection in the mirror looks amazing, but you see that Jongdae is not looking in the mirrors.

He is staring at you.

You turn your head, and sure enough on the other side of the pole, he is staring at you. You can’t do anything except for staring at him. Your world is spinning, and you can smell the studio, but also him.

You want to kiss him. You want to kiss him so much.

You are not sure how long you are spinning, but it’s your hand that gets sweaty who finally breaks it. You need to jump down before you fall and you hate the fact Jongdae just slowly comes to a halt. He walks over to the camera.

“Do you want to see it?” he asks, voice hoarse and you nod, already walking over to him. Together you focus on the miniature screen, your body more preoccupied with Jongdae being so close, than the video itself. But you have to admit that you look good when you are spinning solo. You’ve never noticed how sultry? you look. Watching from the side how Jongdae joins you is breathtaking. He is sure in his movements, but the moment he straightens pushing his hips forward? It goes straight to your crotch.

You are getting wet just looking at the two of you.

You see how your eyes on the film follow the reflections and you see the moment you look back at Jongdae and the intensity of your stares disarms you. Thankfully your filmed self stumbles off the pole on the video, breaking the spell.

“I ruined the end,” you say and Jongdae shakes his head.

“It’s ok, I will cut it off. You did very well,” he reassures you. “Come to think about it do you want to try one more figure?”

How could you say no? You don’t even think about it, you just nod. The smile you get is quite hopeful and you realize how close you two are.

“Can you do the mannequin?” he asks and to get yourself away from Jongdae because you realize how dangerous this closeness is, you walk away from him, jumping straight into a spin, hand grabbing the pole in the air. It’s the first time you did something like this and the adrenaline spike is intoxicating. You hook your inside leg on the pole, outside leg straight and securing you low on the pole, metal against the top of your ankle. You push your chest away from the pole, both your legs sliding along the pole for your shins to squeeze on it.

Jongdae only waited for that and once more you can feel the pole shaking as he grabs it over your hands, mirroring your figure. But. But his legs don’t close on the pole, his ankles pushing against yours in support.

It looks good in the mirror, the two of you arched away from the pole and spinning lazily.

“Can you go into a chair?” he asks and you consider it. You know the chair and your hands are not sweaty yet, so you should be able to.

“Yeah,” you say already letting go of the pole with your legs. Jongdae reacts immediately and you can see in the corner of your eye that the both of you are moving, legs being brought up, as if you were sitting on the chairs, arms pressing against the pole. This time you immediately look at Jongdae, once more being separated from him by the pole. You realize how much you like it. It’s sensual – empty studio filled with ambience music and two of you sharing a pole? You don’t only like it, you simply love it.

You break the connection you have when you realize that your hand is getting sweaty and you are going to fall. Your eyes snap up to your hand and Jongdae must have not only seen that, but he must have also realized what that implies because he is suddenly spinning faster. You see that in the mirror and you feel how he spins closer to you, his legs coming under your bent ones. He frees his outer arm to drape it over your stomach, and when you unavoidably slide down, you sit down on his thighs. Instinctively you hook your elbow on the pole and he hooks his ankle.

You are touching Jongdae, you are sitting in his lap. You can feel his breath on your shoulder and you are still spinning, and this whole experience is unreal. Your blood is thumping in your ears and you feel hypersensitive. Jongdae leans back slowing down the spins, and he slowly eases you back to standing, his hand on your stomach keeping you safe. Unexpectedly he spins you around when you are already standing and pushes you against the pole. It’s not as cold as you are accustomed to – it’s hot from your bodies.

You don’t think about it, you just grab his neck and you bring him close. His hand is still on your naked stomach when you kiss him.

You have that on film. Apparently, he turned on camera as soon as you walked away to start the routine. You made him send it to you because the way he kept you safe on the pole, the way he came close to keep you steady was so sensual you couldn’t stop watching it.

Just like you couldn’t stop watching the way he pressed you against the pole, how he bit your lip and how he licked into your mouth. Even on the video, you looked lightheaded and compliant.

The last class is sad. Full of whines and pleads, and Jongdae laughing awkwardly explaining how he can’t keep teaching you. You join in with the pleading chorus, just as sad that he is leaving the group. You’ve become very attached. He makes you go through the choreo he prepared those few classes ago and then he urges you to try dancing in duos. Even though you have fun with Miyeon is not the same as dancing with Jongdae.

That’s why you stay behind one more time after girls bid their farewells to Jongdae. He can’t contain his smile, now that you are left alone, and you feel the same weird excitement in your chest. He is putting up the camera set up and your blood is already flowing faster. You lean against the pole, looking at Jongdae expectantly. His left eyebrow twitches but he turns on the camera and you see the red light turn on.

You go into the spin. You feel good, hands steady on the pole, as you draw a circle with your legs on the floor. You climb up, sitting on the pole even if it hurts. Jongdae is looking at you and it gives you such a thrill. He is better than you. He has probably seen loads of girls better than you, but it is still you that he is looking at. When you glance at him he is just taking off his shirt which makes you even hotter. You know that it means he is going to join you. From your sitting position, you let your lower leg drop, until you can push your feet against the pole, the other leg still hooked under it. You adjust your hands and your angel is complete.

The pole shakes as Jongdae climbs up. You hate how he can go up, with nearly no leg support, and a mere second later his leg is hooked on the pole fitting impeccably between your thigh and shin, while his foot is pushing against the pole just where yours is. He holds his angel maybe for a second, long enough to show that he did it and then he is moving forward, his arm grabbing you, forearm across your abdomen. He pushes you away from the pole and for a second you are scared. But he coerces you back. However his back is glued against the pole, his ankles crossed on it, and the only way you can secure yourself is to close your thighs on his waist and cross your ankles behind his back.

It’s not a bad position. Not at all, because not only you are very close to him, not only you can kiss him (which you do), but you can also feel his cock filling up against your crotch.

But you don’t mention it, leaning back to slow down the speed of spinning and you can sense that Jongdae is both surprised and proud of you for learning so quickly. You try your best to get down gracefully, toes pointed as you slide down to the ground. Of course, Jongdae the show off slides down in a more spectacular manner, but also lands just behind you, his hands draping across your abdomen to finish the routine with his chin on your shoulder.

You can feel his cock against your ass, and his naked chest against your mostly naked back.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” he says when he unglues himself from you and walks over to the camera, “would you like to start training duos with me?”

You allow yourself to be playful.

“Is it your way to ask me out?” you ask and his head snaps up to look at you. Your skin starts tingling, but thankfully he looks more flustered than surprised.

“No, actually, no,” he says voice sounding offended. “I wanted to ask you out after the practice, but you came here so clearly wanting to do some duo figures that I didn’t get a chance.”

He makes it sound like it’s your fault, but you know he is joking and you laugh.

“Yes, Jongdae, I’d love to start training duos with you, and I want to eat something with you afterwards.”

Yanghee is back, her shoulder ok. You are happy to see her, but you are also sad not to see Jongdae in his tight shorts. You know that it��s a shared sentiment, but your pain is soothed by the knowledge that you are going to see him just after the class. And tomorrow, and day after tomorrow, and whenever you want actually.

Yanghee comments on how your level jumped when she was away and she pushes you straight into practice. She is pushing you way harder than she used to and you think that Jongdae must have told her that your group is ok without codling.

Fifteen minutes before the end of the class, the sound of the passcode can be heard over the music and a thrill goes down your spine just as you try to secure your rockstar.

You don’t see him but girls certainly do because suddenly you hear various voices utter surprised yet delighted Jongdae!. His easy laughter washes over you but you refuse to lose focus.

“Jongdae, please, don’t disrupt my class,” whines Yanghee and he laughs once again.

“Sorry, I have the studio right after you and I didn’t think I would make such a commotion,” he says quite sheepishly and you see him in the reflection motioning to the girls to go back to practice.

“Oh, right, the doubles?” asks Yanghee, walking over to greet him with a hug.

“Duos, yes,” he corrects dropping his bag next to bean bag. He flops onto it, looking up at Yanghee. “How is your arm?”

You immediately lose interest in their conversation, but you notice Miyeon looking at you with her eyes filled with suspicion. You wink at her and try to do a rockstar once more.

The class ends with stretching and all the girls go back to changing room, Yanghee included. You stay behind (again), confidently walking over to Jongdae and allowing yourself to drop down on his lap.

“Hi,” you greet him, growing warm with his eyes searching your face.

“Hello,” he answers and kisses you. It’s your fifth day of officially dating and it’s still very much a honeymoon stage. You’ve spent your whole weekend together – it was so refreshing to see him out of the studio. You were learning how easy and how hilarious he was, quick to joke, even quicker to laugh.

“Kids, please remember that getting sperm stains out of the hardwood is very hard, so keep your hands to yourselves. You are supposed to be training anyway,” scolds you Yanghee and you lean back to face Yanghee and the rest of the group. They are already changed, standing in the doorway and they are all snickering and laughing. Dahye shows you thumbs up, and you can’t help but laugh.

You wave to them and Miyeon shakes her head, but they say their goodbyes and go out.

That’s when undisturbed Jongdae coaxes you back into a kiss.

It’s going pretty fast but when you slide your hands under his hoodie he slaps your thigh.

“We have to start our training, stop it at once!” you laugh but stand up. Jongdae jumps to his feet and quickly takes off his sweats and hoodie. You’ve seen that a few times already, but you still enjoy seeing how he takes off his shirt.

You go to wash your hands when Jongdae picks the music and when you are back, you surprisingly go into training. It is actually impressive that he is so focused on polishing his technique that he really wants to train when it’s only the two of you.

He teaches you a new thing, but most of the training you spend working on your core strength, and he doesn’t pay any mind to you whining that you just finished one training and your muscles hurt.

Finally, you just drop the floor refusing to move anymore and Jongdae just laughs and starts setting up the camera. You immediately feel that you are getting your energy back, which is quite unfair. After that he grabs a mattress, fitting it around the pole for security. After that, he walks over to you and gives you a hand. You begrudgingly stand up and stretch yourself.

“Up the pole,” he orders and you just send him a long gaze. His ears go red but he doesn’t budge. So you exhale and obediently climb up. You are glancing at Jongdae who motions to you to keep going until you are quite high. You are comfortable with your hold on the pole, but it is still high. As you notice, high enough for Jongdae to comfortably fit under you.

“Can you start in an angel?” He asks, hovering next to the camera.

“Sure,” you say not moving. The pole is not spinning yet. He smiles at you and turns on the camera. You watch him as he walks over to the pole, hips swaying and he is keeping your gaze focused on his face. He is the one to spin the pole and you take it as a sign to start your angel.

You see in the mirror that you two finish your angel at the same time, Jongdae under you.

“Can you do a frog?” you hear and you consider it. You should be able to.

“Doesn’t hurt to try?” Jongdae laughs and the pole shakes. You exhale and bring your lower leg higher, hooking it on the pole. Now both your legs are hooked and you are sideways to the pole, hips back, your legs gripping pole between your thighs and shins.

You see Jongdae doing the same under you.

“You good?” he asks and you hum something. He looks up to glance at you and you actually love it. It isn’t as sexy as the last time was, but you love sharing the pole with him. “Ok, sit on the pole.”

You whine because you don’t want to, but one glance from Jongdae makes you unhook your higher leg and squeeze your thighs on the pole. It still hurts, but it’s not as bad as it used to be. You expect Jongdae to do the same thing, but what you see is a plank. Jongdae’s legs are straight, thighs holding him up on the pole, while one of his hands is under gripping the pole under him and the other one is free.

“Wanna come down?” he asks and his voice is playful. “Slowly!”

Of course, you want to go down, but you are not sure how to, without kicking him in the nuts. You say so and Jongdae just laughs. The pole shakes and you are still spinning, easy music in the background.

“You need to control the slide with your hands, and don’t point your legs straight down. It would be easier if you did it in a plank or half plank, this way the first thing to come in contact with my legs would be your backside.”

“My backside,” you repeat. Once more Jongdae’s ears grow red.

“Your ass, ok?” he huffs annoyed and you laugh. But you straighten your legs, and you start sliding down. The move is not smooth in any way, as you stop every few centimetres. Finally, your ass brushes his lap, and you instinctively hook your legs behind his back. The position is quite similar to the one you did last time, but this time pole is between your bodies.

Jongdae uses his hand to lean up, sitting on the pole and his face seems to be just radiating satisfaction. You slide down together, and you feel it looked good.

“Once more from the top,” says Jongdae, restarting the filming.

You exhale but obediently go up the pole and into the angel. He joins you and together you go through the short routine two more times. It’s not as fun the third time around.

“Let’s do the chairs,” you say suddenly because that would be fun. Jongdae is watching the last try and he bites his lip as he looks at you. His ears are red and you know he is going to say yes.

“Ok, but once,” he says sternly and you shrug.

“Sure, we can go back to this boring thing after we do the chairs,” you tease and Jongdae shakes his head. He is covered in sweat and so are you, and it looks amazing on him. You saw that numerous times already but his fit golden body covered in sweat? Amazing.

“And we start from the chair. Chair straight away, understood?” he warns and you nod solemnly. Why is he making it out to be such a big deal?

He turns on the camera and you try jumping into a spin, you manage to do it nicely, your legs already moving to form the chair. Jongdae is not waiting this time, following you in a jump. Pole shakes significantly and you laugh, looking at Jongdae, on the other side of the pole. He smiles, but his eyes are dark – suddenly you don’t want to go back to training. You do a risqué thing and you let your lower hand go to take off your hair band. You throw it away, glancing at Jongdae from under your lashes. Your right arm is the only thing keeping you on the pole now, and it dangerously slides down. It’s not much, maybe half of centimetre, but you immediately move to grab the pole with your other hand, but Jongdae is already there, his legs sliding under yours, his hand on your stomach. You both hook your right legs on the pole and you feel his sweaty chest glue itself to your just as sweaty back. He kisses your shoulder and you had enough. You turn your head around, left hand steady on the pole and you kiss him. You are still spinning but he kisses you back and soon enough your head is spinning as well. He goes into this kiss as readily as he goes into another pole dancing figure.

But even his hands have to give up sometimes and you fall to the mattress. You were low on the pole so it’s more startling than painful. And it doesn’t matter because you immediately throw your leg over his body and you go down to kiss him. It seems like practice is no longer on his mind because he just rolls you over. He fits between your spread legs and he kisses you. He is rolling his hips quite desperately and you share his desperation. The need to have him was itching under your skin for weeks and it has finally tipped over your limits and you are not letting him go anywhere until you get what you want.

Music is still playing and he bites your lip and you can only whine and arch your back to rub yourself on him. Your hips move to meet his and you can feel his cock, and how hot it is against your crotch. Neither of your shorts were designed to hide something like that. He drops lower sucking a bruise into your skin, just over the edge of your sports bra. You are coherent enough to know that you won’t be able to take it off, not now when desperation is so prominent in your actions.

You sink your nails into his back, begging.

“Jongdae, please, tell me you have condoms,” you wheeze when his tongue dips between your breasts. You can no longer rub your crotch against his cock, so you are rutting into his lower abdomen, legs hooked around his.

The way he freezes tells you he doesn’t. Nor do you and you want to scream. You are not having sex with him without contraceptives.

But thankfully sex is so much more than just a pound and Jongdae proves it, unceremoniously yanking your shorts and your underwear down your legs. You barely get it off one of your legs before he is going down, fingers pressing hard on the bruises you have on the inside of your thighs from the pole. It sends a wave of pain through your body, but then he is sucking around your clitoris and you are moaning. Your hips come off the mattress when he tries to lick into you. He is very enthusiastic between your legs licking into you or teasing your clitoris, sometimes allowing his fingers to come into play. You are loud and you are actively trashing on the floor, making Jongdae work extra hard to keep you down.

It’s good, it’s so good and it’s something you were waiting for so long that you just let yourself be drowned in the feeling. You love him between your legs, you love his fingers on your bruises, you love them inside you, you love his thumb on your clit, you simply do. You don’t know how long it takes him to turn you into blabbering mess, but you gather not long.

And a first thing you do after you come back to yourself? You push Jongdae down on the mattress and suck his cock into your mouth.

Which you get on tape.

Again.

The mortification you feel when you realize that, matches the shade of Jongdae’s ears. The two of you on the pole look amazing, it’s sensual and just beautiful, in no way lewd.

But then you drop from the pole and it turns very much lewd. Jongdae offers to delete it, but you can’t find it in yourself to get rid of it.

In the end, you ask him to send it to you and you watch it a few times.

That’s why for the next practice you come prepared.

Yanghee comments on how quickly your skill is raising and you flush slightly at the compliment. Even if it wasn’t for Jongdae you’d be doing everything to get better. That’s how much you enjoy doing it.

Once again Jongdae is a few minutes early which is greeted with laughs and Yanghee’s comment that it seems like Jongdae is trying to steal her group. To which he replies that he is actively trying to steal only one person and you blush among the hoots.

He has the audacity to wink at you.

This time you go to the changing room with the rest of the girls. You want to use the toilet, to freshen yourself up.

And to get what you need.

When you are alone, you finally go out of the changing room to see Jongdae warming up. You walk straight to him, walking into his personal space immediately. He stops and stumbles on the mattress that was left after your previous class.

“I know a better way for a warm-up,” you say not allowing yourself to be embarrassed at that line and you raise your hand showing him a condom which you are holding between your fore and middle fingers. He laughs awkwardly, his ears going red. You start loving his very red ears.

“C’mon, we should be training…” he whines and you roll your eyes.

“Jongdae, I am not doing anything else until I fuck you in this studio. I wanted to do it since you dropped your pants the first time you walked in here and I am not waiting any longer,” you don’t know where did you get the audacity to say that but Jongdae is laughing, his voice rough. He cradles your face in his hands and kisses you, making sure you’ll feel this kiss in the tips of your fingers. It’s a good hot kiss and yes, you do feel it in every cell of your body.

Maybe that’s why you decide to jump on him. He gets you like a champ, arms coming to support your legs while he bends his knees to amortize your sudden weight on him. He laughs but you muffle the sound kissing him, your forearms on his shoulders supporting you. Jongdae spins around and you use your pole instincts to hook your legs behind his to let him use his arms. He does.

The first thing he does it to take off your hairband and he runs his hand through your hair to let your hair fall down. You don’t know where he learned to do that but you don’t focus on it, appreciating the thought.

You also don’t understand why he is spinning, how extra is that? But you take it, hooking your tongue behind his upper teeth. But apparently, Jongdae knows exactly what he is doing because he sits down suddenly, and your knees rest on the bean bag.

You break the kiss and sure enough, Jongdae is now half laying, half sitting on the beanbag. You glance at him, noticing how puffy his lips are already, looking good stretched in a lazy smirk. His left eyebrow twitches.

“You said you wanted to fuck me,” he says as if to explain the choice of the place, “so I say, get on with it.”

You laugh, throwing your head back and you drop the condom on his chest to kiss him one more time. He kisses you back lazily and it riles you up, and so are his hands on your sides. They are idle but familiar and their warmth is a promise that keeps you going. You kiss his jaw and then his shoulder, feeling his cock respond against your ass. You can feel yourself instantly getting wetter – because you’ve been wet since you walked into the studio, knowing well that you were going to fuck Jongdae.

He is humming quietly and you realize that he is humming in tune with the music in the background and you tell yourself that soon he won’t be able to do it. He is content and compliant when you suck a bruise into his chest, mimicking what he did to you the last time. Which reminds him of your hickey because he pushes you away and you are lost before you see him admiring bluish red mark on your chest. You exhale annoyed because it was hard to explain to anyone asking. Jongdae’s eyebrow twitches and before you know it, he is sucking the skin again. This time your exhale is slower because as much as you hate the mark, it’s hot.

Hot enough for you to rub yourself on his abdomen and what you feel under your ass tells you that he enjoys it as well.

You expected yourself to go as fast as possible once you get the permission, but even if undressing goes quite fast (sports bra takes some fumbling) and rolling the condom on is also a breeze.

Sliding down on Jongdae for the first time is a nearly biblical experience. It’s met with two slow exhales and this time it’s him that initiates the kiss. Your lips are already chapped, but such a small thing won’t stop you, not when you are feeling pleasantly filled. Not full, but definitely content and on the right side of pleasure.

You expected yourself to go fast but you don’t. You ride him slowly, focusing on how you feel, unconsciously matching the beat of the music. What you learn quickly is the fact that Jongdae is full of those amazing, somehow muted, noises. He allows himself to moan and groan, whimper even – when he slides down on the bag his eyes fixated on where the two of you are connected.

You miss his eyes on your face, but seeing how his face goes slack when he watches his cock disappear inside you when you slide down is nearly as good. But when you want those dark eyes focused back on you, it’s enough to lean forward, your thumb pushing on his nipple as you sensually bite his Adam’s apple. It moves against your lips and you move up to bite his chin. His appreciative hum is pleasant and it engulfs you in a very intimate way.

As if riding him wasn’t intimate enough.

Your forehead rests against his and you are so close you can count his eyelashes and his slightly laboured breath is fanning your lips.

Suddenly the music changes. It’s Jongdae’s favourite – rock. And your sensual rolls are no longer matching the music. And he knows that. You can see that in his playfully arched eyebrow – if you didn’t know better you wouldn’t be sure he hasn’t instigated that.

You don’t have a choice so you brace yourself with hands on his knees and you speed up. You are riding him with savage, grinding, nearly punishing twists and nearly immediately you grow hot. Your skin starts showing perspiration again and the way Jongdae groans, pained and desperate keeps your pace up. You are ruthless in your moves and you feel dirty, you can feel how you are leaking and how it spreads on Jongdae’s thighs and abdomen. At least he is loving this if his urgent pleads are anything to go by.

Suddenly his hips raise to fuck into you, just as you slide down and it sends you forward. You don’t collapse, but you need to look for support on his shoulders. He is not waiting for you to regain your composure, forcing you to move with his hands on your hips. You wish you could kiss him, but heavens know that you don’t have enough breath left for that.

It’s amazing to watch him come apart. His head is tilted back, tendons of his neck corded and his Adam’s apple bobbing uncontrollably. He is just as sweaty as you are and he keeps thrusting up, all while forcefully pushing you up and down. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you are impressed with his strength, but there are more pressing matters at hand.

Literally, as you press your hand against your clitoris, leaving Jongdae to fuck you any way he pleases. It’s loud, filthy, and amazing, and you can feel his cock twitching inside you, just as you can feel your muscles squeezing, your insides pressing on his dick. Every time it happens, Jongdae emits a heartfelt curse which only adds to arousal surging through your veins.

Suddenly Jongdae groans desperately and you think it’s the end, but he only rolls you over. Your head hits the floor, but you don’t have time to think about it, because Jongdae is back between your legs fucking you with all the energy he has left.

Which is a lot apparently.

You hold him tightly, moans lodged deep in your throat because every time you want to emit one, his thrust makes you inhale. You can only clench your hands on his arms and your legs on his sides as he pistons in and out of you.

He is so close to you that his chest keeps brushing against your nipples and with every harder thrust he pushes against your clitoris, but you know that with his pace he is not going to last long and it’s not enough for you to come.

So you push your hand between the two of you, viciously attacking your clitoris. The slide is wet with all your slick spread around. Seeing that Jongdae mewls.

He comes soon after with a guttural groan and the first syllable of your name trying to leave his lips. He doesn’t stop thrusting though. He keeps his pace up, he fucks you through his orgasm and the intensity of stimuli you are getting brings you over soon after.

Jongdae slowly slides out of you, not able to contain a hiss, his cock oversensitive. He rolls over on the floor next to you and you both look up the ceiling, chests heaving and sweat drying.

“Woah,” you utter finally. Was it something you expected? No. Was it something you are going to welcome in your life readily? Yas.

Jongdae laughs loudly, but you can hear the pride in his voice.

“Also make sure not to get your sperm on the floor,” you say as an afterthought and his laughter is deafening.

Jongdae’s hands are on your hips and you seemingly allow him to lead your body, but the steps you take? You took them thousands of times already. You whip your hair back, your head resting on his shoulder as he marks going for a kiss. You see his eyebrow twitch but he doesn’t kiss you. No fun.

The music changes dramatically and so does the light that is illuminating you. You immediately part as if that was a sign that you were waiting for. Because it was. Jongdae’s eyes are hooded and you know yours look just as sultry. One more change of beat and he jumps in the air, just as you do the same. It’s a thing you did thousand times already, your hand grabbing the pole just under his. Easily you move your leg over your head pushing your foot against the pole, while your other foot does the same low on the pole. Jongdae feet are pushing against yours as he is mirroring your position. You allow yourself to move back, the back of your legs coming flush against Jongdae’s.

There are cheers from the crowd, but you don’t focus on that. Jongdae’s face is so close to yours, but you don’t focus on that either.

Time to fuck him will come after this competition.

I couldn’t choose one photo for the header so I decided to use three and to match them with the title. Black and white Jongdae is a fallen angel, middle Jongdae is a chair I would gladly sit on, and the third one is pretty obvious. And altogether it’s how I imagine Jongdae the pole dancer.

#jongdae scenarios #jongdae imagine #jongdae #chen scenario #chen imagine #chen #exo scenario #exo imagine #exo smut

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