#decided to hide in my coworker’s office when i started feeling emotions
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breakbreadwithme · 25 days ago
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i hate it here
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supernaturalgirl20 · 2 years ago
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Wifey!!! Congratulations on 1k!!!! You deserve this so much my love. Since day one of your blog I have known for a fact, everyone will love your writing! I cannot wait to see you hit more and more of these precious milestones <3333
Looking at the forbidden romance list, I cannot help but vision this:
A big company is very against coworkers dating. They prefer coworkers to see each other as competition. Of course, coworkers A and B fall for each other anyways.
With none other than our very own Dave York!
Ana darling, thank you so much ily 😘 I hope you enjoy ☺️
Playing Nice
Pairings: Dave York x f!reader
Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, established sexual relationship, reader being called a whore, angst, cursing, fluff, violence, guns, killing.
A/N: the gif in my moodboard inspired this one 😘
Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰
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Daves lips twitched - a smile forcing its way onto his face as he hears your voice over the com link. “Nine…ten..eleven….beat that York. Twelve..” His eyebrow quirks as he spots you moving towards the group of mercenaries. Over my dead body baby.
“Oh I’m going to beat you, and when I do - you’re gonna give me whatever I want.” Dave moves - slowly, hiding behind crates as his eyes scan the area. He sees a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye and he can make out the back of your head. No! They're going to see you.
One of the men turned in your direction, gun pointed at your head. No you fucking don’t. Dave stands now, gun aimed and starts firing. One by one they drop. “Twelve..thirteen…fourteen…seems I’ve won,” he says, a sly smirk on his face as he stands above you. There’s something hidden behind those dark eyes as he reaches his hand out, waiting for you to take it.
He pulls you up and you fall into his chest, his hand wraps around your waist to steady you. You can feel his warmth beneath the palm of your hands - searing your skin. You want nothing more than to strip him bare and trace the scars on his chest. Dave clears his throat and you back away, “thanks. We better get going.”
***
Your eyes follow him as he leaves Smith's office - having given his debrief. He walks past you, his face void of any emotion and his gaze fixed on anything but you. You hated this. The way it was so easy for him to ignore you all day - to act cold and unfeeling when you practically wore your heart on your sleeve. Did he care about you at all?
“Y/N.”
Taking a deep breath, you stand and make your way into his office, Smith gesturing for you to take a seat. “York filled us in on your fuck up.” An anger boils under the surface of your skin and you clench your fists in an attempt to not punch this fucker in the face. “There was no fuck up, sir. I had more targets taken out than York until one of the mercs spotted me. I had it handled.”
“That’s not what Dave said. He said you got caught and he had to intervene. You know this means the kills go to him, which means he’s now in the lead.” You stand abruptly now, “that isn’t fair. You can’t do that.”
“I think you’ll find I can. You will simply have to do better if you want to be in charge miss Y/N. Both of you are always neck and neck, this next mission will be the decider. You’d best bring your A game.”
“Yes, sir.” Storming out of his office you make your way straight for Dave. He’s in the conference room with guys - Resnik, Kovac and Ari. Laughing at something he said but their conversation dies down as you enter and Dave looks at you with a sly smirk. His eyes skim over your form before meeting your gaze and you can see the hint of lust in his eyes.
“Got something to say, baby?” What is going on with him? He’s never this cruel. “You lied to Smith. Why?”
“I didn’t lie. I told him exactly what happened, not my problem, your shit at this.” The guys all try to hide their laughter and it angers you even more. “You’re a dick.”
“Baby, if you wanna suck my dick, all you have to do is ask?” You walk up to him and slap him hard on the face before storming back to your office - willing the tears to hold off until you can close your door. How fucking dare he.
***
The bathroom is steaming as you let the hot water from the shower cascade down your body. You hope it will ease the tension in your muscles from the shit day you’ve had. What has gotten into Dave? He was mean today. Meaner than usual.
A squeal passes your lips as arms wrap around you from behind. A hand coming up to cover your mouth to muffle your scream. “Shh baby, it’s just me.” You lean into his touch as his deep baritone voice soothes your nerves, but then you remember how he treated you today and you turn around and push him slightly.
“What the hell are you doing here Dave? I’m not in the mood.” You try to move past him but he blocks you, his body pushing you back against the cool tiles. “Dave!” His arousal is hard against your stomach and you can help the shiver that runs through you. Why did you always want him?
“Is this about today? Baby, you know I had to. That we have to play the game and pretend we hate each other.”
“Yeah I get that, but you didn’t have to be so mean about it. You're not usually like that, so what’s gotten into you?” You place your hand in his cheek gently and reach up and kiss his lips softly. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
***
Dave feels his heart flutter again and butterflies erupt in his stomach. He’s developing feelings and that can’t happen. He grabs your neck a little roughly - his thumb running along your bottom lip before trailing it down your chest and pinching your nipple “Nothing has gotten into me baby, but I want to get into you.”
He pushes his hips against you and you moan a little. Such a filthy whore. “If you want me to leave?” Your eyes widen and you grip him harder, pulling him close. “No.”
He smirks and begins kissing along your neck, his teeth biting into the skin. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard baby, you’ll forget all about today.” He pumps himself twice before lining up at your entrance, thrusting into you in one fluid motion. “Oh fuck”
His pace is brutal as he pounds into you, his thick length hitting that sweet spot over and over. You feel so good wrapped around him, he never wants this to end. He wants to be buried inside you every minute of every day.
“Fuck Dave…harder..” Filthy fucking whore. He loves watching you come undone. He loves the faces you make, the sounds that escape those plump lips. All for him. Only him.
“You belong to me. Do you hear me? Every inch of you is mine, and if you let another man touch you, I won’t hesitate to kill them.”
“Yes. Yours, all yours.” He crashes his lips to yours and you come around him, crying out his name. Pulling out, he pumps himself before spilling his come all over your stomach. His hand rests under your chin, “I’m sorry, if I hurt your feelings. I’ll tone it down a bit, baby.”
“Thanks. Are you staying tonight?” His lips quirk into a smile, “do you want me to?” With a nod of your head he turns off the shower and lifts you into his arms, carrying you into your room. “Guess I’m staying then.”
***
The mission has gone to shit and Dave can’t find you anywhere. Fuck! I should have told her how I feel. It had been a set up from the beginning and they ambushed you, and he hasn’t laid eyes on you in over an hour. I’m gonna fucking kill them.
He’s on top of the tower, eyes scanning through the scope of his gun. Come on baby, where are you? His heart is beating erratically and he’s gonna lose his shit if he can’t find you.
“Fuck. Dave…”
“Baby! Baby is that you? Where are you?” Your voice comes through - slightly muffled - on the comms. “I’m ok…I got knocked out when the cafe blew up. I’m just a little sore.”
“Hey it’s ok…just wait there…I’m coming to you.” Dave rushes down the stairs, taking two at a time until he reaches the bottom. He moves as quickly as he can while also keeping an eye out for stragglers.
He releases a breath when he finally lays his eyes on you. You're ok. “Hey.” You say with a smile plastered on your face. That beautiful smile that he loves. Bending down - he helps you up -pulling you into a hug. “Thought I fucking lost you baby.” His hands rest on either side of your face as he whispers “I love you, so fucking much”, before kissing you passionately.
“What?” You’ve pulled back a little, eyes boring into him - hope shining behind them. “I love you baby. I didn’t want to admit it but today…today I almost lost you and…I’m not hiding it anymore. I’m not hiding us.”
“Dave we’re not allowed…” he stops you by kissing you again, his arms wrapping fully around you now. “I don’t give a fuck anymore, I love you and I want to be with you.”
“I love you too. Now please, take me home.”
***
Dave pulls into the drive and you both look at each other - a devilish smile on your face as you reach over and kiss him passionately. “You ready baby?”
“Born ready. Now let’s get this done, then you can take me home and fuck me.” Dave growls as he pulls you into another kiss. “Come on.”
Both dressed in black head to toe - you enter into the huge house, careful to make no noise. The house is quiet, everyone fast asleep. Perfect. With the silencer on your gun, you make your way behind Dave towards the main bedroom.
Making your way inside, Dave gives you a look - one you know is him telling you to take this one. And you will, with great fucking pleasure. With the safety off, you point the gun to his head - right between his eyes.
He startles awake and the fear in his eyes when he sees you is so satisfying. “What the?” You place your finger over your lip, shushing him. “Y/N? York?”
Dave smirks as he comes to stand behind you, hand resting on your hip. “Thought you could take us out and we wouldn’t find out?”
“What? I never..”
“Cut the shit Smith, we know what you did.” You watch as his face morphs into a sadistic smile. “I should have killed you both myself. You both could have gone far, if only you didn’t catch feelings. You knew the rules and you both disobeyed them. You had to face the consequences.”
“Well you forgot that we are the best you have and now, we’re eliminating you. Any last words?” Panic creeps onto his face again as he begs for you to let him go, that he’ll allow you both to continue your relationship. You pretend to consider his plea, “nah I’d rather kill you,” before pulling the trigger and killing him.
“Fuck that was so hot baby.” Dave says as he bites into the skin in your neck. “Now, let’s get out of here so I can fuck you good and hard.”
“Yes, please.”
Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @trickstersp8 @nembees
Dave York: @vanemando15 @anaaaispunk @hb8301 @stevie75 @almaeunice @readsalot73
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bakugosbratx · 3 years ago
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Warning: NSFW 18+ Content. Sexual intercourse, angst, pregnancy, cursing, fluff, degrading, etc.
Words: 1.6k
Check out my other works here
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A/N: I just realized there isn’t much talking at all. I’ll make up for it in part four. This shit is sad. I am sad so it’s fitting. I’m sorry in advance. I hope you enjoyed.
Part Two | Finale
Tags: @awilddreamerwrites @miriobaby @lanarist @peachsenpie @milkthistletea @sickchildren @bakugousbrat @lil-miminini @tremendouswolfsaladranch @ssplague @vinny-likes-to-play21
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Not every story has a happy ending. Y/N is learning this the hard way.
“CEO of Bakugo Industires, Katsuki Bakugo, shows off his new girlfriend at the Industry Ceremony tonight—“
You turn your phone off. Your red, swollen tear filled eyes could not look at the words and pictures anymore. The press sure did know how to capture the model’s perfect angles. A courtesy they would never give you if you were ever lucky to fill her shoes.
The way Katsuki’s muscular arm snaked around her tiny little waist made you fall ill. The flash of his glamorous smile filled your broken one with rage.
Your ears are filled with the salty liquid that flowed from your orbs. You are not even sure how you are still breathing. It shouldn’t hurt this much. It shouldn’t feel like this. You are just fuck buddies.
Were just fuck buddies.
The words will not stop replaying in your head. It’s been over a month. It’s spinning on a broken record player. All the emotions you felt in that moment intensify with each passing day. You should hate him for abandoning you, but your heart cannot do so. All you wanted was him.
You knew better than to fall for Katsuki. He told you to keep your feelings out of your sexual relations with him yet here you are, sobbing into your bedroom pillow, a growing fetus inside of you.
The room felt restricting of your oxygen supply. The ceiling fan sent chills down your warm spine. Your body aches and your throat feels dry. Katsuki’s cruel words along with his actions strangle you. You have not been able to see straight since.
The next couple of months of work are pure hell. You did your best to avoid Katsuki and he did the same. You noticed that Katsuki did not look at you as you were the only one in the room anymore. He seemed to look past you. If you dared meet those beautiful crimson eyes for even a slight moment, you were left feeling disgusted with yourself. Katsuki has a way of speaking without actually doing so. You adored and hated that about him.
Whenever he addressed you for business matters, you had trouble formulating sentences. Your eyes always seemed to be puffy from the endless nights of hysterical tears. Katsuki’s voice held more aggression than you are used to. Maybe you wanted him to at least have some sympathy, but that was nowhere to be found. He soon stopped inviting you to meetings.
You two did a wonderful job of finding the long way around the office building. Any precaution there was to take, you both did, but no plan is bulletproof and you are going to see each other at some point.
You two have not seen each other in over a month — almost two — and you have been feeling stronger than before. Less weeping nights, you are back to eating a normal diet, and you are more well rested. The bags under your eyes became less noticeable, but they still lingered longer than one would prefer.
You dried off your hands in the restroom — the one furthest from you and Katsuki’s office — and headed out to get back to work. The hallway is quite vacant around this time of day. Everyone is either on lunch or too focused on their work before packing up for the day. Your heels echoed amongst the marble floor. Looking up, your breath hitched.
Your eyes met the ones you desperately wanted to despise. Yours held sadness and desperation while he held anger and disgust. The way Katsuki viewed you, you started to view yourself. Even if it isn’t your fault.
The glance was only a maximum of five seconds, but those five seconds felt like a decade for you two. A period of time you would come to mentally plead for overtime.
You have not seen him for another three weeks after that. The cycle repeated: you sobbed, and sobbed some more, and then you started to cry less.
Then it happened.
You are coming into work late due to a doctor's appointment. The baby is healthy as are you so that is lovely news. Something you would love to share with Katsuki if he even remembered your name.
The elevator was taking its sweet time getting up to the floor where your office is located. You felt strong. How could you not? Your baby is going to be okay from the looks of it. A little human is excited to meet you and you are becoming excited to meet them.
Maybe things are starting to fall into place.
Elevator doors open. You begin to walk forward but come to a halt with the man standing in front of you; Katsuki Bakugo.
Your heart races with your bottom lip begging to quiver. You do your best to hide it though as you brush past one another. A jolt of electricity shot through you. The slightest graze of his calloused fingertips felt so rigid yet so soft. Your instincts force you to look up to see the stranger peer down at you. The stranger you used to know.
“See me, Katsuki. See me as the woman you used to know.” You mentally beg. You just wanted him to see you as somebody. Somebody he used to want.
Katsuki paused there, speaking to you through his eyes. This time, they did not hold as much disgust as before. Maybe it’s the hormones, but you could have sworn you witnessed longing within the roots of his irises. If Katsuki was capable of processing his emotions and allowing them to show, he would write them on his features. He remains stone cold, preventing his fingertips from latching onto yours. So, awkwardly they lay, both of your breaths caught in your windpipes until Katsuki decides to break free of the shackles.
You attempted to be in Katsuki’s space more. You knew him like a book just like he did for you. You both learned each other’s frequent routines.
Awkward encounters became more frequent and you both secretly looked forward to them. Long stares that withheld unspoken phrases. Katsuki’s gazes turned from disgust to softness. Especially with your stomach starting to show as the months rolled on. Still, not a word was spoken
The corporate office began to talk. Chatter amongst Katsuki’s employees disturbed his peace of mind. He knows he has to address you at some point, but what is there to say? What could Katsuki even begin to formulate for you to understand where he is coming from? You are due sooner than he is comfortable with. There is no hiding your stomach.
You never asked a penny from him. Hell, you have not even tried to speak to him since that night. You only spoke when formally addressed. Even that was rare.
Katsuki replays that night a lot while laying in bed. He claims what you two had was just two coworkers having sexual intercourse, but nothing can hide the way he moans your name when he masturbates or has sex with someone else. The way he sees you in every female he comes into contact with. Nothing can hide the way his natural rapid heartbeat stops by the mention of your beautiful name. Don’t even get him started on the way you purposely would get on his nerves. They are all part of the list of delicate little things he missed.
You have every right to hate him. Katsuki would not blame you if you did. His hatred for himself reflected in his actions which ultimately was passed onto you. You carried that burden. He would search for the reflection of his anger in your orbs, but they held none. They held nothing but sadness and love. Love he refuses to accept.
Katsuki laid in bed, alone, allowing his mind to wander. He cursed you for keeping him awake. He is a busy man with things to do yet your features haunt him. The thought of someone else touching you the way he does killed him. He knows he would have heard muttering by now if you went to his rival yet there is silence.
You are silent.
You are falling deep into your peaceful slumber. Something you have been doing more lately. You no longer need the lullabies of your heartache and unwanted whimpers for comfort. You are more at ease.
A heavy knocking at the door startled you. Groaning and gazing at your cell phone, the time read the time.
1:03AM
The knocking picked up again. You are not expecting company at this hour so you take precautions. Grabbing the metal baseball bat you keep under your bed, you stroll to the door. The knocking echoed through your apartment complex much to your sleeping neighbors dismay. Your adrenaline rises with each step you take towards the door. Gazing out the peephole of your front door, you see Katsuki standing at the door.
Throwing the baseball bat to the side, you open the door.
“Katsuki, what the—“
Katsuki ushers himself in, not even giving you an opportunity to scold him or ask anymore questions. Instead, his lips are entangled with yours. Magnets desperately pulling towards each other. You attempt to push him away as you smell the alcohol lingering in his breath, but Katsuki is much stronger than you are.
Your mind is telling you to hate this, but your heart speaks otherwise as Katsuki pushes you against the beige wall, caging you in with his arms. You did not even try to stop him as he began removing any article clothing on your body. Your lips only disconnected for short seconds before meeting again. Now you are laid on the kitchen table, Katsuki’s thick erected cock deep in your pussy, begging moans escaping your parted lips.
Here we go again.
©bakugosbratx
All Rights Reserved
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dathen · 3 years ago
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Okay I have some complicated thoughts following Melanie’s arc that all build on top of each other and hinge HEAVILY on unreliable narrator interpretations so bear with me
In my relisten I’m at the beginning of s3, and it always shocks me a bit at how quickly she interprets Martin’s interaction with her as hostile.  I’m going to skip over the “it’s understandable, Melanie’s had a hard time in her career” disclaimers since there’s plenty of meta on that already, and instead follow the effects of this tendency: not on others, this time, but on her
(This got absurdly long and covers so many episodes so I’m going to split it into separate pre- and post-bullet surgery posts)
Rewinding a bit, the last time she was at the Institute, she was starting to get along with Jon before he seemed confused about her comment on “the other Sasha.”  It takes her a split second to interpret that confusion as him suddenly deciding to gaslight and mock her, gets angry and tells him there is something seriously wrong with him, and leaves before he can ask what she means.  Given how tenuous their truce was and the fact she and Jon had mocked each other in the past, it’s an outburst that at least has some personal history behind it.
But only a couple episodes later, we learn that it’s not just Jon she responds to in this way.  In TMA 84, she meets our Martin Blackwood!  Customer service voice opposite-of-Jon politeness extraordinaire!  And as soon as he gets confused about the two Sasha comment, she.......immediately assumes that HE is also trying to gaslight her.  She insists that “I’m not doing this again” without giving him a chance to ask or explain, so they miss the opportunity to piece together the deal with the Not!Sasha.  Her doing this with someone she just met shows a much broader pattern than her interactions with Jon.
That very episode, Elias offers Melanie a job, and she accepts despite Martin’s protests.  Later, she accuses them all of them being an “old boy’s club” because she interpreted Martin’s warnings as sexism rather than trying to protect her.  As the audience, we see the unreliable narrator of her perspective at work: we know that Jon and Martin were genuinely confused, and we know that Martin was trying to save her, and that all of these instances were her seeing it as people being out to get her.
Hop forward to the notorious gossip scene in TMA 106.  Here, Melanie complains about Martin being hostile to her.  My first assumption was that this was all offscreen, but after this parade of misinterpretation and comparing to her and Martin’s actual interactions, I have to wonder:
TMA 84, after Martin tells Melanie about the murder, and right before Elias interrupts:
Martin:  Are you sure you’re alright?
Melanie:  Yes!  I just got… God, I’m kind of at the end, you know?
Martin:  The end of what?
Melanie:   Everything.  Friends, clues, savings. Everything.  Options.  There’s nowhere left for me to go . I don’t know why, but…  I just, I just felt that perhaps coming here might help.  And talking things out with Jon.  I mean, I mean he’s awful, but at least he listens, you know?
Martin:   (soft) Yeah.  ...I’m sorry.  Um, is there anything that I could, like, maybe...do for you?
They get interrupted immediately after this, so this was the first impression Melanie was given.  Then, when Elias offers the job, she...assumes Martin’s “I don’t think that’s a good idea” is from sexism, when he’d just been talking about murders and disappearances that caused that very job opening.
TMA 88 
Melanie:   Are you alright?
Martin:  Yeah… Sorry, just a lot of change recently, y’know.  You and John and Sasha and… everything’s gone a bit wrong.  It’s the not knowing, you know?  I mean, Jon’s still alive.  Not sure why, but I’m sure of that.  But Sasha, I…
Melanie:   Yes, it’s… it’s probably, um…
Martin:   Sorry, sorry, I’m...  What do you need?
Next interaction!  Oh this one HURTS.  Martin takes her question literally, and starts telling her why she’s not alright, a reverse of their earlier exchange.  But Melanie came by for a question and wasn’t prepared for an honest answer, so Martin quickly reels it in and asks what he can do for her once again.
Skipping forward a bit in that same scene:
Martin:   Oh, you weren’t here when we took the place over from Gertrude!  It’s been over a year just to get it like this.  I mean, I think the database was on Jon’s list, but--
Melanie:  So how do you track someone down?
Martin:   Oh, oh well, y’know, we’ve a few contacts in various record offices around the place.  Aside from that it’s just… just a bit of detective work, really.  Tim used to do a great line in impersonating people to utility companies!  Heh, the number of times he got them to give him ‘his own’ address--
Melanie:  Right, right… Um, this one, the name is 'Jude Perry.’ Doesn’t mean anything to you, does it?
I LOVE THIS EXCHANGE.  I TREASURE IT.  Having bottled up his emotions, Martin is going in full Friendly Helpful Coworker mode.  There are so many little details here signaling that he’s embracing her as part of the team, sharing anecdotes about Tim’s shenanigans and Jon’s old plans, looping her in as One of Them as he helps her get what she needs.  This is the kind of approach you go to management trainings to get, to help new hires feel welcome and part of things.  But alas, Melanie is in a hurry and wants to cut to the chase, so all this is lost on her.
TMA 98 - I won’t copy it all in here because it’s long, but this is an overwhelmingly positive interaction.  She asks if he’s okay, but he bottles it up and says he’s fine.  This time, she presses, and he admits it’s because of the statements.  Martin ends up asking for help!! and Melanie agrees!  She’s on the way to murder Elias, but she still gets credit for “I’ll ask him to cut you some slack.”  Then she invites him to drinks!
And then.... TMA 106
Melanie:   Anyway, Martin’s always been lovely to you.
Basira:  Hmm. I don’t know, I mean, you should have seen him when I turned up last year. I think he thought I was trying to steal his precious Archivist.
Melanie:   Ahhh. I got the exact same when Jon was hiding out, and came to me with his “source on the inside” stuff.  Martin was not impressed.
WAIT WHAT
We just looked over all their interactions!  They were all soft and lovely and welcoming!!  But then we hear Melanie with “well unlike how he is to me, Martin is nice to you.”  This was taken at face value for years, but when you line up all of the above, I feel there is a strong basis to say this is another case of Melanie’s first impressions + over-defensiveness gone wrong.  Just like we saw her initial bickerings with Jon solidify into series-long hostility, her interpreting Martin’s confusion as gaslighting and warnings about the job as sexism seems to have doomed her opinion of him long-term.  We hear Martin being kind and concerned and welcoming, then hear Melanie contrast it as bad treatment.
Recently, a mutual considered this even further to how she talked about losing all of her friends with the Ghost Hunt UK circles:
Melanie:  Even back then, I could feel all my old friends starting to distance themselves from me. ...  I stopped asking the others for help, and I kept my research to myself. I talked to them less and less. By the time I was arrested, I think a lot of them had already given up on me.
I have to wonder...did this sort of dynamic play out here, too?  Did she assume that her friends’ concern was judgment or hostility?  Were they giving up on her, or did she lash out and push them away?  Either way, it’s easy to see parallels to s2 Jon in her description, here, with her withdrawing and diving alone into increasingly risky research without asking for help.  And s2 Jon definitely shared Melanie’s tendency to see offers for help and support as hostile.  (Aside:  I interpret her and Georgie as not very close at this point, like a networking contact rather than a friend; Melanie comes to Jon for someone to talk to about her struggles above her, and Georgie seems to be unaware of all of Melanie’s encounters pre-s3)
And on that downer note I am ending part 1...but PART 2 IS GOING TO BE WAY HAPPIER THAN THIS.  Here, we see Melanie with a lot of people who would have supported her if she let them:  Martin, Jon, possibly the friends she said abandoned her.  But in her effort to protect herself and not let history repeat for how she’d been hurt in the past, she ends up alone and spiraling.
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lavynrose · 3 years ago
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- a oneshot for artem wing when he finally mustered up courage to ask out their s/o to hang out as friends (theme parks or just garden strolls, you can pick which type of place you want i won't mind!) to confess to them and when he confesses their s/o confesses at the same time too? and the s/o is kinda shy and awkward with him so he gets surprised and all flustered with them confessing at the same time?
(ackk this has been stuck in my head for a while, sorry if there are any grammar mistakes since english isn't my first language! i hope u have a great day!! :D <3)
- coomkie anon ♡
Artem Wing and his s/o confessing at the same time pt. 1
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Title: Dedicated
Pairing/s: Artem Wing X Reader
Pronouns: Gender Neutral
Genre: Fluff
Warning/s: Grammatical errors probably
Notes: blushy artem is best artem, and we have celestine being the best wingwoman again
enjoy an amusement park date with Artem <3
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Artem Wing is a dedicated man.
If it had been any other person, they would be home right now.
but not him.
Even now, as the looming hours of the night began to tick, he sits at his swivel chair, busied with the love of his life called paperwork.
"Aren't you overworking yourself?" He looked up from his papers to see Celestine waltzing inside his office with documents in hand.
The question should've made him stop and think to at least consider getting rest, but no, we're talking about Artem the workaholic here.
He has heard Celestine's question directed at him for the past few days, and from different people at that.
"Overworking means I have more time to double-check these documents," Artem said as he reached out for the folder that Celestine brought over, "Don't you think it's pretty convenient?"
"Artem," She started with concern in her blue-green eyes, "I know you're trying to distract yourself."
Artem was silent for a few moments before coughing, "Whatever do you mean? There's nothing I have to distract myself from." He said with complete calmness in his voice that he could even fool himself.
"You don't have to hide it, you know? I see the way you look at them," She smiled as she recalled the lingering stares and soft smiles setting display into Artem's face when he's around his colleague "The way you act around Y/N." she added with a hint of teasing.
The mention of your name seemed to short-circuit Artem's brain, Celestine took advantage of this with delight.
"Also... They've been getting friendly and close with that new employee.." She puts her hands on her chin, thinking.
Earlier today, she caught Artem's looks of distraught while his eyes were on you and the new guy. You were having a friendly conversation.
Too friendly.
After that, The youngest senior attorney even requested you to work with him at his desk, claiming that he, quote "needs to keep close tabs on the files that Y/N is handling." end quote.
but Celestine knew better.
Jealous is the only word that can describe how Artem was acting. She decided she will push his buttons tonight.
"Aren't you... threatened?" She beamed at him, waiting for his reaction.
"..."
"They've been on your mind lately, I reckon."
"..."
"They're getting closer with each other, don't you think?"
"..."
Hopeless. Celestine thought.
To say that she's frustrated with this whole situation surrounding the two of you is an understatement. Everyone in your circle clearly sees it - you and Artem like each other.
In the way he bought cake for the whole office that one afternoon the day after an episode of an office drama aired, or in the way that he went out of his way to take care of you in the hospital when you overworked yourself to sickness, or in the way you blushed around each other, the lingering touches, oh the lingering touches. It was all obvious.
The both of you spend your time together more than anyone else, everyone thinks your blooming affections were inevitable at this point. Solving controversial cases meant having the mental and emotional intimacy to get to know each other better compared to your average professional relationship.
You don't see each other as "working partners" anymore, it's clear that you guys want each other as a different kind of partner.
It was known to everyone except for the two of you, apparantly.
Celestine sighed before rummaging through the magazine shelf in the office, grinning when she found what she's looking for.
Artem shot her a look of suspicion. He has a bad feeling about this.
"There." She said with satisfaction before dropping the magazine into his desk.
The magazine lays there, with an eye-catching font and colorful cover page, Artem blushes as his eyes read, 100 cute date ideas...
Judging from the cover, the magazine might actually be useful when giving date suggestions. Under the big font however, there was a smaller text that read, Your significant other is waiting!
What is this...
"I'm sorry but I have work to finish." He tried his best to unsee what he just saw, and decided to turn his focus on the headache of workload in front of him instead.
Celestine raised her eyebrows at him with a frown, "Don't be stubborn now, I'm your boss, I'm giving you both a day-off tomorrow. I mean, you haven't used your day-off at all ever since you started working here. So please. " Her voice is laced with concern.
He looked away with a sentimental look in his eyes, "You don't have to do this for me. I'm fine with... Giving them affection without them realizing it."
Celestine just frowns deeper.
"Come on now Artem, doesn't it sound tempting to you?" She clasped her hands and continued a little too excitedly like a schoolgirl in love, "Having alone time with Y/N, finally asking them out on the date so the other guys threatening your future can back off."
It does sound tempting, Artem admits.
He looked away with reddened cheeks, "I'll think about it."
He doesn't need to look at Celestine to know she's sporting a big grin right now.
Later that night on his bed, his mind keeps flashing images of you. You, wearing a big, warm smile on your face. You, with your little mannerisms that he came to memorize from hours of being with you. Every little thing, every moment, as long as it's with you, he cherishes it.
Oops. The butterflies are starting.
He didn't mind.
You looked stunning today, but then again, he finds you stunning everyday.
When was I this cheesy? He thought to himself.
His thoughts kept racing with reveries about you when a new image interrupted every nice thought.
It was of you and the new employee laughing together.
He frowned and his stomach churns.
"Are they interested in each other?" He finds himself asking the wind. His mind was reeling.
He thinks about the time when he first heard you say that you were married to your work. Surely, you aren't interested in being in a relationship with some guy, right?
Right?
Groaning, he then realized that he needs to make a move now before it's too late.
To him, you're the loveliest person he's ever met, your kindness, your welcoming smile, the passion that you present when you're in the court, the way you always remain headstrong no matter how many people clash with you and try to break your principles.
The only one that occupies his heart, you.
Artem is sure he won't regret giving you his feelings, and eventually, reveal them.
He got up from his bed and sent a glare at the magazine that is now resting on the lamp table beside his bed, mocking him. He picked it up with less hesitation than before.
'What should I choose?' Artem asked himself before flipping the pages, a faint blush adorning his cheeks.
This is a big step for him, and he wants to make sure that he's going to do it right.
7:00am
You rubbed your eyes and stretched your limbs as the sunlight permeated through your bedroom window, the yellow glow giving you a peaceful feeling, a new day is about to start.
A new day without work at that.
You had been ecstatic when Celestine called you to inform you last night of your long awaited day-off, you smiled at the memory as you stand up to brush your teeth.
"You deserve it for all your hardwork!" Even through the phone, you heard the smile in her voice.
Soon, your thoughts drifted to a certain raven-haired man.
'How about Artem? I'm his assistant, does he get a day-off too?' You wondered as you finished washing your mouth, finally heading off to the kitchen to prepare for breakfast.
You were about to choose what to eat from the fridge when you hear a song play from your phone in your room.
You hurriedly went back as you recognized that ringtone - that ringtone you had set for a particular contact.
There on the screen, displays the name of the object of your affections.
Mr. Wing.
'Why is he calling this early? What could he possibly need?' you thought to yourself before pressing the green button.
"Good morning Artem, what is it?" you didn't even try to hide the happiness from your voice, Artem calling you this early doesn't happen often, after all.
"Good morning. Do you have plans for today?" His morning voice echoed through your ears. It was husky and rough, filling all of your senses.
Realizing that he just woke up, you can't help but blush at the thought of being the first person to talk to him today.
He thought of you first thing in the morning!
You tried to control the lingering heat in your face as you replied, "Uhm, yes uhh- none. I have no plans for today, Artem. I'll be thinking of what to do though. Why did you ask? " You hoped he didn't mind the sttuttering mess presented to him this early in the morning.
You wondered if there's an emergency case needed to be taken care of, he rarely ever calls outside of work.
Then again, you're always at work.
"That's good," the other line was silent for a bit. As your anticipation for his reply grew, he finally said, "A new amusement park is going be opened today. I heard they'll be having a fireworks display tonight to celebrate the opening."
You've heard about the said amusement park from your coworkers yesterday, you even heard that it was a project from PAX.
Marius' wealth truly knows no bounds, you thought.
Kiki even invited you to come with her this sunday, as it's the only freetime the both of you had before Celestine's sudden news of a day-off.
Is Artem coming there today? He doesn't seem like the type to go to amusement parks, but now you know that he likes them, or at least he didn't mind going, you added this info to your list of things about Artem that make you fall in love with him more and more. Because let's be honest, what's there not to like about the man?
He's handsome, sweet, a good cook, a senior attorney you can look up to, and he always makes sure to reassure you that you're doing well, that he's proud of you.
He cleared his throat, breaking you out of your thoughts, "Do you want to go there..." He paused, his nerves getting the better of him, unbeknownst to you, "With me? I have two tickets, and I wanted to invite a close friend. Is that alright with you? "
What?
'Is he asking me out on a date!?' you were practically screaming internally as you paced frantically in your room.
No. No way. This isn't a date. Not until he says so.
He said 'close friend' so you shouldn't overthink this. You were partners, after all!
At least you try to convince yourself.
"Of course Artem. I'm glad you invited me, I'm really happy." You weren't lying, his invite was the most unexpected thing that happened to you this week.
He hummed, "I'm happy, too. I'll be there at 2:30pm to fetch you, they'll open around 3pm. " He said in a gentle voice before hanging up.
You pumped your fist in the air. You have plenty of time to prepare.
2:30pm
Among all of the outfits that you could've worn today, you decided to wear a cute, beige, knitted sweater. A pair of faded ripped jeans, white sneakers, and a beanie to top it all off.
The amusement park being your destination, you decided to wear casual clothing since you'd be hopping on rides left and right.
You wouldn't want to wear a skirt just for it to blow on the wind while you're in the air, screaming for dear life.
Nope. You definitely don't want that.
You're now waiting outside your apartment after Artem sent you a text 5 minutes ago that he's on his way.
Your head is plagued with expectations on how this friendly date is going to go. You've never felt as giddy as this before.
It's understandable, right? The person you like asked you out to go with him to an amusement park - using his morning voice, nonetheless, so it wouldn't be strange for you to think that this is like an actual date.
You bonked yourself mentally.
You keep reminding yourself that it's just a friendly date. It's just a friendly date. You believe in the power of your mind, it's a friendly date. He even said so himself.
Artem's going to think you're weird. It's not like you're going to hold hands or anything...
Yet, you didn't even try to stop the daydream clouding your mind.
While you were busy indulging yourself in your fantasies, your eyes caught a familiar spot of black in the parking lot. Artem's car!
That's your cue. When his car stopped, you made your way over to him with a small smile on your face.
His black car opened, spilling out Artem clad in his casual clothing.
You scanned his appearance, taking in those breath-taking, familiar eyes. Taking in the beige, knitted sweater he's wearing, paired with slacks and black shoes.
Wait.
You did a double take- beige, knitted sweater?
You looked at his clothes, then looked down at your own, then back at his again.
Red and warmth crept up to your cheeks as realization hits you.
You kind of looked like a couple.
"What's wrong?" Artem inquired with concern as he stepped closer and reached out his hands to your flustered form.
He even placed his hand on your forehead to check your temperature.
Yes, you think you have a fever.
It's only when he got to take a good look at you when realization hits him the way it hit you.
He retreated his hand and looked away, face as warm as yours.
"Uhh..."
"..."
Why are you acting like a highschooler!? You're better than this, getting flustered just because you wore identical clothes.
With the person you like, you added.
The both of you stayed silent for a few seconds before you spoke up with a grin, thankful that the pink that dusted your cheeks is now cooling down a bit, "We should get going now."
You expected the ride to be as awkward as earlier, but to your relief, that wasn't the case at all.
Artem played the radio on your drive to the amusement park, and even asked you about how you're feeling lately and whatnot.
Honestly, with how he's always so concerned about your well-being, you're doomed to fall even harder.
"What are your favorite rides, Artem?" You decided to talk about something connected to where you're going to go.
"Hmm," as he hummed, you looked in front of the car to see the gates of the amusement park came into view. You can even see the familiar structure of a rollercoaster and a really grand ferris wheel turning slowly.
Majestic.
Is the motif for this amusement park golden!? The railings are shimmering with gold, some parts of the rides are adorned with gold, wherever you look, gold!
PAX outdid themselves with this one, definitely took "shining, shimmering, splendid" to a whole new level. Too much for the word grandeur, you think.
You can't even imagine how wide the place must be. You haven't even stepped foot inside, yet your eyes were oogling as some more rides were seen from outside the gates.
"We're here Artem! Look!" From your side, Artem turns to take a look from the road to the park, his eyes screaming nothing but amusement.
"It's beautiful," He breathed while you nodded furiously with agreement. He shot you a look, "I'm glad I get to spend my first time here with you." The softness is his eyes is blinding as you stared at him and processed his words.
"Me too..." you managed to choke out, turning away to hide your blush.
While you were taming your flushed cheeks, Artem had parked the car already.
He opened the doors for the both of you as he offered you his arm. Confusion takes over your features.
"So you wouldn't get lost, it's a big crowd out here, " He tilted his head to have a better look at your still sitting form inside the car, "Let's go?" He said with that gentle smile, as comforting as ever.
You stood up and linked your arm with his and suggested, "How about the bumpy car first?" excitement was evident in your voice.
He shook his head and chuckled, "Whatever you wish." He said as he locked the car doors with a click. You both headed to check in and do the formalities first. After all that, with a skip to your step, you pulled Artem to the bumpy car's ticket booth, and went inside.
You're elated.
"I can't believe the Artem Wing, the youngest senior attorney, is losing to me!" You sound hysterical as you bumped Artem's car with yours over and over, your bumpy car dominating his.
This is fun! Just minutes earlier, the atmosphere between you and Artem seemed a little tight because of the matching clothing incident. Just a little. However, the laughter of everyone playing in this space is infectious, it leaves you in a really good and playful mood.
It makes you feel like you were a kid again. You hope Artem feels the same.
Before playing, you made a bet with him earlier that whoever bumps the other the most, wins.
"Y/N. I think this car is defective." He said with a frown, his eyebrows furrowing as his hands tinker whatever there was in the steering wheel.
You looked over to him and replied, "We can switch cars, let me see." The two of you switched from each other's bumpy ride and you assessed the supposedly 'broken' car.
You realized he didn't push the right buttons to ride the bumper properly.
"Artem..." You looked at him blankly and said, "Have you ever been to bumpy cars before?"
He was silent before replying with darting eyes, "No, I haven't," He cleared his throat, "I have only been to the ferris wheel and escape rooms, I haven't been to bumpy rides before. Sorry."
You beamed at him.
"Don't be sorry!" You flail your arms to disagree, "There's nothing wrong with that. I'm actually happy that you allowed me to drag you here despite you not having played it before." You flashed him a thankful smile.
He looked a little surprised at first, but then that warm smile of his came back, "Thank you." You stared at each other's eyes for a few beats in time, his ocean eyes containing a sparkle you rarely see them hold. It looks so gentle, so welcoming.
So fond.
You stared at each other for a while, his deep eyes were enough to drown out the crowd. To drown out everything that existed but him.
Blinking, you snapped out of it to teach him how to drive the car.
The cars were booster types, different from the old models wherein you just turn the wheels and you'll be good. In this specific model, commands are needed to be performed in order for the car to execute it's special feature.
"You turn it like this..." Artem is a fast-learner, so the both you were back on track as soon as you guided him the directions.
In the end, you were tied, the bumper time limit resulting the draw.
"I'm definitely beating you next time!" you declared with a smug look, hands on your waist.
After the bumper, a receptionist from what seemed like a family raft ride made his way to invite the two of you.
"You guys look like you're having fun!" He then pointed at the paper he's holding and said with persuasion, "You're going to have even more fun here! The family raft ride is the only free ride we're offering in the park for it's first day, be sure not to miss out on this special bonus!" He then turned his heel to find more costumers.
You blinked, "Too bad we don't have extra clothes..." You hung your head low and you sighed as your mind thinks of a different ride to enjoy.
"Well, he did say it's a special bonus," Artem pondered, "They sell clothes here anyway, and there are restrooms we can change on," you wondered if this is going the way you think it's going, "I can see no harm in trying this free ride." He finished with the corners of his lips turned upwards.
Your eyes sparkled with so much joy that he's glad he suggested this.
"Then what are we waiting for!?" You squeal and jump from where you stand and Artem could only shake his head at you with an adoring look in his ocean eyes.
You both headed to the line of people waiting to get their tickets for the raft.
"That's a long line..." You're already mentally tired as you stared at the single file of people in front of you.
"There's still plenty of time before the fireworks at 7pm, I can go and buy us ice cream. Do you want some? "
You're face fell, remembering you were on a diet, "I appreciate the offer, but no thanks, I'm on a diet." An ice cream sounds really tempting right now, but you must resist.
"I heard they sell low-fat ice cream in here. How about that?" He proposed as his eyes glinted with satisfaction.
He knew this would do you in, sure enough, you gave him the biggest grin you could muster.
"You're the best, Artem! Any flavor is fine, by the way. " You beamed as he turned his heel to the ice cream stall, you just stared at his back the whole time he was away.
A minute later, the man wearing a cozy beige sweater that matches yours turned around and went over to you, two chocolate chip ice cream in hand. You reached out to take your ice cream, your fingers brushing.
You ignored the tingling feeling and the chills. He looked away.
While eating, you talked about how the line for the rollercoaster was two times longer than the raft's even though it's literally free.
"I believe they added a new feature to the coaster." Artem reasoned.
"You bet. The rides' golden theme is already impressive enough," You eyed the unbelievably long line from the coaster's ticket booth, "We can go back here some time to see that feature for ourselves." your face heated as you realized the implications in your words.
His eyes widened for a single moment and then looked at you with such intensity you can't bring yourself to look away, "I'd love that." a gentle look worms it's way in his features once again.
Comfortable silence dawns on your own, little world while you both busied yourselves in your ice cream.
The two of you were thrilled as it was your turn to ride the raft, ice cream long gone, replaced by the life-vest in your hands.
"Ah," you sighed, fumbling with the vest a little longer than you should have.
Artem, of course, noticed your movements. He was kind enough to help you adjust the vest.
Of course.
"Come here." He said as his arms finds it's way to your waist, pulling you towards his stature. His hot breath hitting your face while he circled his arms around you to wrap the vest securely.
This is not good for your heart...
He's so close, you could kiss him if you wanted...
He pulled away, his warmth lingering still.
Even when the both of you sat down on the raft. The ride is going to start in a few and here you are, lost in the feeling of Artem being near you.
"Y/N," You abruptly turned your head to him when he suddenly called you, "are you nervous?"
You blushed so hard you wanted to evaporate with the water, 'Yes. You make me nervous.' you're tempted to respond.
"Yes, but don't worry about me." was your reply instead, and you smiled awkwardly and stared at his blue eyes, blue eyes laced with concern.
He leaned closer, probably so that the other people within your raft wouldn't hear, "I care about you and I want you to feel as comfortable as possible," he whispered in your ear, sending chills to your spine.
This is definitely not comfortable, Mr. Wing.
Your heart is doing flips, this isn't normal!
"Please tell me if you need something." The gentleness in his voice took your breath away the way it did as the first time.
The fact that he's unaware of his effect on you angered you so much. You scanned his face for signs of teasing. Smirk, maybe a playful glint, anything.
Yet you found none.
The raft began to move, a perfect timing to change the subject!
You leaned on him, but not too close, and whispered, "It's starting."
Water began to splash, as the raft moved with the current.
The track was smooth at first, you getting small splashes here and there.
Until a bumpy track decided to present itself.
Like before, the raft went with the flow of the water, except that it bounced and rotated harshly that one particular splash of water was enough to wet you and your clothes completely.
"OH MY G-" you exclaimed when the raft hit a rough spot again, soaking everyone wet.
You were making a surprised pikachu face as the water seeped into your clothes.
You turned to look at Artem to see his state and you suppressed a giggle with how he's making the same face as you did earlier.
Never in your life you thought you'd see Artem with the surprised pikachu face.
You took pride in knowing that you're one of the very few people who gets to see this side of him.
"Artem!" you shouted through the noisy stream of water. "We look silly!" you laughed as the water rocked everyone in the raft as harsh as it possibly can. Round and round, back and forth.
"We do!" his laughed mingled with yours even when the water relentlessly kept soaking your already wet bodies.
You smiled once again, gazing at his form with profound fondness longer than just a friend would've done.
6:00pm
"That was really fun!" You shouted to the air while Artem scooted beside you, offering his arm like he did earlier, which you eagerly took.
The both of you went for another round on the raft after the first round, not caring about the long waiting line. The ride was worth it!
All you ever did was scream and laugh at each other's state, but it was the most enjoyment you've ever had in years.
You were completely dry now, changed into fresh clothes that were sold as the park's merchandise.
Even with the change of clothes, the clothes you were wearing right now still matched Artem's.
You weren't complaining.
The crowd continues to enjoy themselves, all while the sunset was making everything in the theme park look like a fairytale.
"Yes, it was. I enjoyed it very much." Artem flashed a smile so genuine, you wanted to see this sight a thousand times more. The orange glow of the sunset gives his raven hair a golden shade, light reflecting on his blue eyes, making him look so bewitching. So you carved it to your memory, not knowing how to elicit that same image from him once again.
Looking up at him, and looking back at the things that happened today, you realized something.
You couldn't take this silent pining anymore, you wanted to tell him how precious his smile is to you, to tell him you're glad he's spending his time with you, to tell him to make more memories with you.
To tell him he's the reason of the warmth flooding your whole being right now.
'I'm in love with you' is what you first thought of saying. No matter how cliche that may be, you wanted to let him know, that you're in love with him.
"Uhh, Artem, I-" You were about to spill your feelings then and there when a voice boomed the speakers of the park.
"Everyone! One hour more to go for the fireworks! Please look forward to it!"
Your confession's gonna have to wait for later.
part 2 here
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do not repost © lavynrose 08/15/21.
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xcrystalzero · 3 years ago
Text
sun is up
pairing: kaeya x f!reader
summary: who knew that waking up next to a stupidly handsome cavalry captain could be so conflicting?
note: hehe. also this one is a little spicy (not very because i'm shy but still) so minors begone!
The sunlight was hitting your face from the wrong side. With a groan, you threw a hand over your eyes in an effort to block out the intruding rays. Not to much avail of course since sunlight had a tendency to seep in through any opening it was given.
It was warm too, a gentle, unfamiliar warmth that seemed to surround you, seeping into your bones and tempting you again and again with the comfortable lull of sleep.
However, your brain knew that it was morning now and no matter how tight you closed your eyes or how deep you snuggled back into the blankets, you weren't going to be able to go back to sleep.
With a resigned sigh, you let your hand fall back down to your side, allowing your eyes to flutter gently open. The sight that greeted you was no less than disorienting.
You had been right, the sunlight was coming from the wrong side of the room. Maybe because this wasn't your room. Sitting up, your still drowsy brain decided that it was time to take a look around. The room wasn't extravagant, but not quite bare either. That wasn't what caught your attention however.
On the ground just a few feet from the edge of the bed lay a pile of clothing. It occurred very slowly to your still offline brain that some of that was yours. You could see it from here, the worn pants from your Knight's of Favonius uniform and that lacy black bra you had bought a few days ago in an effort to feel just a little more sexy. Oh how you loved that bra.
The other half of the clothing however, was a bit of a mystery. Cocking your head, you identified a pair of brown boots, what looked like black gloves, and fluffy white fur collar. Those seemed familiar for some reason.
It was at that moment that you felt the bed shift slightly under you. With a soft gasp, you whirled around, drowsiness falling away in sudden panic as you prepared for an ambush.
You were not however, prepared for what you did see.
It was no secret that Kaeya was a beautiful man. From the deep navy of his hair to the physique his work as a captain had earned him, he was attractive and he knew it. The sight before you now however, was by far the most beautiful side of Kaeya you had ever seen.
His face was turned towards you, half buried in the pillow his head was resting on, silky strands of hair fanned around him in a deep blue halo. The sunlight that had so rudely awoken you cast gentle rays on his face, turning his tanned skin golden and accentuating the line of his collarbone not concealed by the covers. Perhaps the most majestic part however, was his expression. Kaeya was an expressive man and you'd seen just about every emotion, real or fake, cross his features at one point or another. Now however, all those exaggerated angles were gone and for once in his life, the Cavalry Captain looked relaxed. And then he shifted just a bit, the covers rising slightly to reveal the side of his toned torso.
Relaxed and naked apparently...
"Oh shi-" you smacked a hand over your mouth, eyes blowing wide open in horror as things actually started to register. Kaeya Alberich was in your bed. Or no, you were in his? And he was naked. And you were also definitely naked. And-
Unbidden, images of last night rushed forth and you remembered.
"My beautiful [name], would you be so kind as to join me at the tavern this evening?"
That was what had started it. A simple invitation when you really needed a drink. If you remembered correctly, Kaeya hadn't been much better considering how many bottles of wine you two had gotten through before Diluc had grown cross and kicked you out.
You remembered very well, the midnight wind in your hair and Kaeya's hand on your shoulder as you drunkenly braved the streets of Mondstat. And then somehow, you'd been at his place. You just wanted to make sure that he was safe as you knew all too well the kind of messes drunk Kaeya could manage to get himself into.
Yes, you had just wanted to drop him off. But then he was so close to you and you were breathing in his scent, that stupidly comforting scent that you'd been trying for weeks to ignore. His lips were at your ear and he was asking you something in a desperate, very un-Kaeya voice.
"Please, can I kiss you?"
And you nodded because of course you did. No matter what the logical part of your brain tried to tell you every single time you were near him, you knew. This was what you had been hoping for, dreaming of ever since you had met him. You had told yourself it was impossible, that his flirtatious words were a luxury that everyone got to experience, thrown about with no less care than a comment about the weather.
But now, those words were saved just for you. Whispers of "you look so beautiful like this" and "you're so good for me" spoken softly enough that your doubted even the wind could catch them. And then his hands were on you, cold cryo fingertips tracing up your waist and then to your back as they worked at hooks and pulled you further into him.
And your hands were in his hair and then on the clasps of his corset and the ties of his pants, yanking and throwing as though they were the things you hated most in the world. Perhaps at that point in your life, they had been. And then he had been on you, pushing you down into the bed as you arched upwards to meet him, the feeling of wanting to touch him the strongest thing you had felt in your entire life. And then he had reached down...
And... you had slept with your coworker.
It took all the self control in you not to leap out of the bed immediately as you considered your options. There was no way you could stay around until Kaeya woke up. Or, could you? Again, there was that voice in your brain, begging you to just nestle back into the covers and savor this time you got to spend with him. You had to ignore it. This wasn't anything special after all right? You two had just needed to blow off some steam and had seen each other as convenient.
Kaeya was just that kind of guy right? No strings attached, no commitments.
It didn't matter that just seeing him roaming the courtyard from your office window was enough to spike your heart rate through roof. That when he stood a little too close to you during meetings, you had to ball your hands into fists to resist grabbing the lapels of his jacket and smashing your lips into his right then and there.
"Please..." he had said. This stupid beautiful man was going to be the end of you.
"I just have to get out..." you muttered under your breath, pushing yourself into a sitting position in hopes that action would clear your thoughts. You got halfway off the bed when you heard it.
"And where do you think you're going?"
The world went cold. It took you a moment to work up the courage to turn towards the voice, eyes still wide in surprise as you did. You could have sworn that Kaeya was asleep. Everything had suggested it from the uniform rhythm of his breath to the limpness of his splayed arms.
And yet, there he was, very much awake, one visible eye glinting in amusement at your reaction.
"So the eyepatch stays on during sex..." was the only thought your brain could produce in that moment and you honestly could have slapped yourself.
"G-Good morning Kaeya..." you decided on instead, though it only seemed to amuse the man further as he too sat up right behind you.
"Good morning to you too. And to think you were trying to sneak out just a moment ago without saying anything to me..." He was close again, his breath on your ear sending a shiver down your spine. Slowly, his arms came up, sliding under yours before closing right underneath your chest, pulling you into his.
You wriggled slightly in his grip, breathe hitching as his lips made their way down, grazing against your neck. "I-I thought you'd like that better. Since this... this is just a one-time thing." The words hurt to get out and you felt Kaeya stiffen slight behind you.
Without warning, you were yanked backwards, a soft yelp escaping your lips as you found yourself nestled amongst the pillows once again, though this time, a pair of arms encircled you, caging you in with nowhere to run.
Kaeya's periwinkle eye looked down at you when your panicked gaze flew up to meet his, steady and more sincere than you were sure you had ever before seen.
"Now, is that what you really think of our relationship? I'm hurt..." He reached over, taking your chin gently in his fingers as he angled your head up towards him. "Do you want this to be a one-time thing?"
You gulped.
"No. I want you forever. I want you all the time and I just want you to want me too."
You couldn't say it. You couldn't risk it.
Kaeya must have mistaken your silence of a yes however as he retracted his hands immediately. He pulled himself off of you, settling on the edge of the bed with his back to you. It may have just been that stupid thing called hope, but for a moment, you thought that you say hurt in his gorgeous eye.
"Ah I see, well that's fine as well. For what it was, that was a pretty fun night. Shall we go get breakfast or something?" That had to be pain. He was good at hiding his emotions, but you knew Kaeya better than anyone. He was hurt.
"... no."
"Not a breakfast person? That's alright then, you're welcome to see yourself out whenever you'd like."
"No I don't want it to be a one-time thing. I want you Kaeya, for as long as you'll let me." You didn't know where the words were coming from but when he whirled to face you once more, hope in his eyes, you knew you couldn't stop. "So, please don't make me leave?"
Apparently that was all it took as you barely got a moment to breathe before his lips were on yours. It took you a moment but you returned the kiss, hands reaching up to pull him down into you. His lips were hungry, threatening to devour you if you didn't hold your ground. Unconsciously, you arched against him and through the kiss, you could feel his smile.
There was a strange warm feeling growing in your chest that only seemed to amplify the moment Kaeya pulled away, the most genuine smile you had ever seen from him plastered over his lips.
"Oh darling, you have no idea what you just got yourself into..."
note: maybe i'll write one of these for a bunch of characters... you guys wanna see that?
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exolovek · 3 years ago
Text
The only way I can think that Tim and Lucy would admit their feelings is if they were prodded out of them.
Just imagine, Tim and Angela are talking, maybe baby Jack is asleep and Tim mentions one of Lucy’s pranks or just praises her for one of her arrests. Picture Angela smiling and just saying “you like her.”
Tim being all like “of course I like her, she is a good cop and a good friend” I can clearly see Angela interrupting him and being all “No. you like her.” and Tim not being able to deny it just staring at Angela who then goes “Holy shit. How long have you known?” because we all know that if Tim had realized that he was developing feelings for an officer that was underneath him in the chain of command he would have stopped and taken action to rectify the situation, it had to be something that snuck up on him. 
You can choose the moment he knew, but I like to think it was the moment she decided to go undercover and Tim reacted as more than just a T.O and more than just a coworker, but when he fell in love? Not even Tim knows. Maybe when she guaranteed that everything would be fine after the virus, maybe when they toasted to the end of the world with tequila and whiskey. Maybe it was when she ran after leaving him with the rookies’ tab, finding her inside the barrel, when she gave him her dog, when she gave him the audiobooks, at this point, it's too late to try and establish a singular moment. Tim gives his replay and Angela just shakes her head, they both know what this means, it’s over, before it can even start. 
“Tim.” Angela would say happy and sad in equal measure. It's not like Isabel, she was in another precinct, they were both officers, rank, and authority had no place in that relationship. But with Lucy? It's the biggest thing there is. “You have to tell Grey.” 
And Tim would have nothing to do but sigh. “I know.” His feelings not only put her promising career in jeopardy, but they also put her in danger. Any decision he makes in the field that involves her would be compromised by his feelings, he would never be able to guarantee that he took the decision with a clear head and perspective. 
He would have to tell Grey. 
For Lucy, I can only think that she would know after Tim knows. I can picture an episode or two when the audience knows about Tim’s feelings because we watch Grey deal with the repercussions, we watch Angela teasing Tim and then talking with Wesley at night about what it all means, what it could all mean in the long run. But we haven’t gotten confirmation of Lucy’s feelings. 
That is, of course, until Tim gets hurt. Maybe in the job, maybe outside of it, but it's an incident that triggers Lucy’s PTSD. She maintains a clear head while on the clock, an expert at compartmentalizing at this point, she wants to rush to his side, wants to make sure he is okay. Constantly asking for updates on the radio or text, as soon as she clocks out she is by his side. Maybe he is still unconscious or maybe he is watching one of his games on the TV, but Lucy rushes in and all she can think is how she almost lost him. Tim, her T.O, her friend, her safe place and that’s when it hits her. Watching him in the hospital bed with him smiling at her. It’s her oh moment. 
She stays and talks to him, they flirt with their eyes like they always do, teasing each other because it's easier to express their relief and worry that way, when visiting hours are over and she is getting ready to leave, Something stops her, maybe Tim, maybe her own desire to stay. They always have emotional talks right before one of them leaves, it's how it goes, how it needs to go. 
Tim thanks her, maybe asks if she will be alright at home, is Tamara going to be with her? He has to know how it affects her to see her friends in the hospital. Maybe he tells her that she is so brave. Maybe she is the one that asks after him, about how he is really feeling if he is sure he doesn't want company through the night. Maybe the air is charged with the things they haven’t said, can’t say. Maybe it's easy to look at his lips, at her lips. They always stand far apart, maybe this time we get to know why the distance is crucial to maintain the boundaries. Maybe they can’t keep it up this time. It's the almost kiss. They have to get interrupted, that’s the deal we signed when we decided we liked slow burn. 
And then Lucy goes home, she lays in bed gazing at the ceiling confused and craving the kiss that didn’t happen. 
The kiss that does happen has to be after they solve all the consent and work issues their relationship has. I don’t think the show could work any other way, I don’t think we would want a show that would ignore all of it. In my mind, she moves to another chain of command when she becomes an official U.C. and it makes things better. They spend less time together at work, but more time together after, they grab beers, they play darts, paintball becomes a standing date. 
I want the kiss to happen in plain clothes, maybe they are both undercover, trailing after a person of interest and they kiss to hide (cliche and overused, but who cares when its such a good trope.) Maybe they are at a bar, and Lucy’s song comes on, and she pulls him to the dance he owes her, and they get closer and closer and then they can’t hold back. Maybe it's the anniversary, of the barrel, of the wedding that never happened and Lucy needs something good to replace all the bad. Maybe they meet her parents, maybe they see Isabel again. Maybe she gets jealous of a woman that won’t stop flirting with Tim, maybe it's the other way around. A prank goes just far enough that he was to kiss her, can’t help but lean into her and finally find her lips. Maybe they had another almost kiss and he goes after her, hours after it almost happened; with vague excuses that don’t hold up to scrutiny and they kiss by the door. 
I want it to be a sweet hesitant kiss, the equivalent of dipping a toe to test the temperature of the water, they have to separate, they have to stare at each other in awe. 
Two things can happen and both would make me squeal. They go right back at kissing and this time it's a cannonball after finding that the water is the perfect temperature. The music builds and builds and we fade to black when the bedroom door slams shut. The other thing that could happen is that they stare at each other in awe and quietly separate, knowing that everything has changed and the person who initiated the kiss just gazes at the lips they recently tasted and carefully says goodnight. Leaving the other staring at the door with flushed cheeks. 
Then the music comes and the credits roll.
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theoreticslut · 3 years ago
Text
The Start of Something New // s.r.
spencer reid x reader
requested: nope! the first of seven (!!!) fics for my 2k writing challenge event!! I used the prompts “weddings” & “did you need something?”
summary: A wedding for a mutual friend might just be the start of something new for you.
word count: 2k
warnings: weddings, fluff
A/N: I LOVED writing this one so much! I’m kind of thinking about writing a second part to it, but i’m not sure yet. I’ve got a handful of other fics I’d rather get out beforehand. But if you want one, definitely let me know! I’d love to write more for spencer and I think it’d be really cute to show the progression of their relationship. Anyways, I hope you like this! & if you’d like to join the challenge, you can join up until this sunday! 
“Oh wow, she looks gorgeous.” You whisper to Penelope, smiling when you catch sight of JJ’s smile.
She looks beyond happy to be marrying Will, and you couldn’t be happier for her. After what she’s been through, she deserves every moment of this.
“She does.” Penelope quietly coos, emotion overtaking her voice as she watches your guys’ friend.
“I can’t wait until your wedding day. I just know it’s going to be perfect.” 
“My wedding day? Penelope, you’re dreaming.” You scoff, laughing at the idea. You couldn’t be any more single if you tried. Between this job and your deep-seated fear of abandonment, you have little ability to hold a relationship.
Sure, you’d love to have someone to come home to and to share yourself with, but the reality is that it’s not going to happen for a while. At least not until you do some serious work on yourself.
“I wouldn’t be so sure, muffin. I see the way you look at our young doctor.” 
“Spencer?! No. You’re delusional now, Garcia.” You whisper-laugh, ignoring the light blush you can feel warming your cheeks.
“Am I though?” She retorts, giving you her knowing look before turning back to your friend as she makes her way down the aisle.
You shake your head, trying to ignore her as you turn your attention back to JJ, but you can’t help yourself from glancing towards Spencer. 
You can’t deny that he’s cute in his own adorable way, but you wouldn’t say you're crushing on him or anything. He may fill your daydreams from time to time, but it doesn’t mean anything more than the fact that you spend a lot of time around him due to work and that you find him nice to look at. 
Putting it out of your mind, you watch as JJ meets Will at the altar, both of them carrying bright smiles filled with love for the other. She really does deserve to be this happy. 
It easily brings tears to your eyes as they say their vows, JJ herself getting watery eyes as Will slides the ring on her finger.
You can’t help but cheer as they’re finally allowed to kiss, both you and Penelope clinging to each other at the cuteness and overwhelming happiness of it all.
“Our girl is married, Penelope.” You sigh, pouting slightly although you couldn’t be happier.
“I know. It’s beautiful.” 
“It really is. God, I’m so emotional right now.” You chuckle, carefully wiping at your watery eyes.
“How are you doing, momma?” Derek asks, his words directed at Penelope as he and Spencer join the two of you, his arm wrapping around her shoulders.
“We’re emotional.” She chuckles as she wipes at her eyes as well.
“We can see that.” Derek laughs, squeezing his arm around her, attempting to console her.
“Did you know, biologically the reason you are so emotional right now is due to your parasympathetic system?” Spencer starts, demonstrating his brilliance once again. You’re not complaining, though, as you actually enjoy hearing his random knowledge.
“Psychologically, however, your emotional state could be due to an unconscious perception of helplessness or it could be to show vulnerability, solicit sympathy, advertise trust, or the need for attachment.” 
“Alright, mr. smarty-pants. Ladies in this state just want consolation, yeah?” Derek retorts, drawing a laugh from both you and Penelope.
“We’re fine. It’s just such a happy event.” You chuckle, wiping yet another stray tear from your eye.
“That it is, y/l/n. JJ deserves this.” 
“She does. I’m actually going to go find her and congratulate her. If you’ll excuse me.” You smile, dipping out of the conversation.
~.~
You can’t help but smile as you look over the small crowd, all of them basking in the happiness of the night. 
It’s been a couple hours now and you still can’t believe that one of your best friends is now married to the love of her life. She is definitely one of the lucky ones to have found such a love, and to have such a beautiful kid with him too. You can only hope that you’ll have this one day too.
Thinking about your own special day, you can’t help but recall your earlier conversation with Penelope. Are you really looking at Spencer that differently that others can notice? 
Sure, Penelope seems to be more observant than others, but you must be looking at Spencer differently for her to even consider you liking him, right?
Let’s say that you did like him, it’s not like he feels the same back. You are just coworkers, teammates. Sure, you could be considered friends, but it’s not like you spend much time together outside of the office.
“Are you alright, y/n?” You hear Spencer ask, drawing you out of your thoughts. 
“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Yeah.” You smile, nodding lightly as you take a sip of the champagne that Rossi brought out for the event. It’s honestly amazing how perfectly he put this together. You don’t think it could be better if anyone else did it.
“Are you sure? It’s just, you seem like you’re pretty distracted over here.”
“Yeah, I’m good. Just thinking about a few things. Nothing important, though.”
He nods lightly, clicking his tongue as he gently rocks back on his feet. You can’t help the little quirk of your lips, entranced by the fluffy-haired boy.
“I’m sorry, did you need something? Or were you just, uhm, checking on me?”
He laughs a bit, looking down at the ground as he attempts to hide a smile. Even now you can’t help but find him adorable. It’s just who he is.
“Sort of. I, uh, I was wondering if you’d like to dance? With me?” He questions, blushing lightly as he watches you for a reaction, finding himself relieved when a soft smile finds its place on your lips.
“I’d love to, Spence.” 
At his smile, you feel your own lips quirking up more. You set your glass down, letting him lead you out to the makeshift dance floor, joining your teammates as they all dance with each other.
You see Penelope give you a smirk and you just roll your eyes, turning your attention to Spencer as he wraps his arm around you.
“You look really nice tonight, by the way.” He smiles as he spins you around to the music.
“Thank you! You look very nice yourself, Spence.” 
At your compliment, you notice him flush, smiling giddily. He doesn’t say anything, however, and you take it as he’s just not sure what to say.
You dance to another song, smiling and laughing occasionally, before Rossi decides to cut in - which you happily let him do as he’s been a father figure for you since you joined the BAU.
“You know, you and Einstein look good together.” He starts, nodding towards Spencer who joined in a dance with Penelope.
“Do we?” You chuckle, smiling as he nods.
“The next wedding I put together better be yours, kid.” 
You can’t help the small laugh that leaves your body as you shake your head. 
“I’ll make sure to inform you whenever that may happen, Rossi. I think you’re good for another few years, though.”
“You better. Now let me show you how to dance, because watching you was an eyesore.” He jokes, earning a boisterous laugh from you as you slap his arm.
~.~
By the end of the night, you’ve spent far more time dancing than your feet would have liked, but you can’t complain. You managed to snag a dance with each of your teammates, including JJ, who couldn’t stop smiling. 
You had indulged on Rossi’s phenomenal cooking, and you even happened to miraculously catch the bouquet - which had earned cheers and more teasing from the girls. 
Now, at nearly 1 am, you were beyond ready to get home and go to bed. You had had a wonderful time, having a bunch of fun with everyone, but you were tired and there was no denying it.
“JJ!” You call, spotting her at the refreshments table grabbing a drink.
“Y/n! Hey, how are you?” 
“Good. How are you, JJ? God, I can’t believe you’re married now. I’m so happy for you, though.” You smile, grabbing a small glass of water for yourself.
“Amazing. This has been so...perfect. I can’t believe Rossi did all of this for us.” She chuckles.
“I know, it’s been such a wonderful night. I think I’m going to head home though, okay? I’ve danced myself out.”
“Oh, absolutely! Get home and get some sleep. I am so glad you were able to spend the night with us and celebrate.” 
“Of course, JJ! I wouldn’t have missed it. You have a good rest of the night, yeah? I’ll see you on Monday.” You beam, pulling her into a hug.
“See you on Monday. Good night, y/n.”
You hug her goodbye before making your way around to the rest of the team. You're wishing Penelope and Derek a good night when Spencer joins the three of you.
“Are you leaving?” He directs to you, noticing how you’re hugging Penelope.
“Yeah, I think so. I’m exhausted. I’ll see you on Monday, alright spence?”
“Wait, I-if you don’t mind, I think I’ll head out with you?” He suggests.
“Oh, sure. I’m just catching a cab, though.” You explain, wanting to make sure he wasn’t planning on just catching a ride with you.
“Perfect, I’ll join you.”
“O-okay . Well, I still need to find hotch and Rossi.” 
“No problem. I’ll see you guys on Monday.” Spencer waves, wishing Derek and Penelope a goodnight.
“You too, pretty boy. Behave on the ride home, yeah?” Derek smirks, winking at the two of you.
You silently groan, rolling your eyes as Penelope smacks his arm but is laughing along with him.
Spencer nods awkwardly, looking more than confused, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he follows along behind you as you make your way through the small crowd to find hotch or Rossi.
“Spencer. Y/n. Are you heading out?” You hear hotch ask as you’re still trying to weave through the few guests still celebrating.
Pausing, you turn to find hotch and his guest - beth - smiling happily.
“Hotch. Yeah, We were actually trying to find you to say goodbye.” You smile, looking between him and Beth as she holds onto his arm gently.
“Ah, well I’ll see you both on Monday then. I’m glad you’ve stayed awhile.” He smiles, nodding politely at the both of you.
“Me too. It’s been wonderful, especially seeing JJ so happy. Rossi really did a wonderful job.” 
“He certainly knows how to throw a celebration together. Have a good night, both of you.”
“You too, hotch. Beth, it’s been wonderful to meet you.” You smile, nodding politely as Spencer says his goodbyes.
You eventually find Rossi, wishing him a goodnight and talking for a few moments while Spencer finds Emily and JJ. Within a few minutes, though, you’re both making your way down Rossi’s driveway, laughing lightly as you stumble in your heels.
“Do you want to take those off?” Spencer questions, steadying you as you stumble a little more.
“When I get home. A cab should be here soon, Rossi called one for us.”
“Sounds good. Thank you for letting me catch a ride with you.”
“Anytime, Spence. Having you come with actually makes me feel safer taking a cab this late at night.”
“I’m glad?” He chuckles, not really sure what to say to that. 
“You really do look nice tonight, y/n.” He compliments after a moment.
“Thank you. I don’t get to dress up often, but it’s kind of fun.” 
“You’re good at it.” He mumbles, but you hear him, a shy smile finding its way onto your face. 
All this time you thought that he couldn’t possibly like you as anything more than a friend, but here he is saying things like this. You can’t help but wonder if maybe he does like you.
As the cab pulls up, however, and he opens the door for you, helping you in before getting in himself, you don’t mind finding out if there is a possibility that you could be walking down the aisle soon enough. You especially don’t mind as he carefully interlinks your hands in the middle of the backseat, after motioning for you to rest your head on his shoulder upon seeing you yawn.
Maybe, just maybe, the rest of the team knows what they’re seeing between the two of you that you had failed to notice before now.
------------------------------------------------------------------
General - @jillys-feral-fandoms @your-hispanichufflepuff @yikesyikesyikes95 @livvysnaps @i-love-scott-mccall
Spencer - @stoopidwithtwohoes @harrysboo28 @roonilwazlibswhore @justfangirlingoverhere
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lucyintheskywithxanax · 4 years ago
Text
Butterfly Wings In My Heart
Pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Fem Reader
Requested by @sapphicsarahpaulson “ “can i stay here tonight?” and “i love seeing you smile” for mina x reader? “
A/N: I’m so happy with how this piece turned out. I hope you’ll like it, too  ❤️️ As always, English isn’t my mother tongue, so expect a few weird sentences. x
Word count: ~ 4 500
You leaned forward to adjust the purple fairy lights you had just hung to the ceiling, and almost lost your balance and fell off the ladder.
“Careful,” Venable called.
You glanced down at her with a grin. “It’s so nice to know you care,” you sang.
Venable’s jaw tightened as she shot you a look. “I don’t. I’m not particularly eager to have you crash down into me.”
“Then don’t stand there,” you quipped. You leaned forward again, fidgeted with the lights until you were satisfied. “I’m done anyway.”
Clumsily you climbed down the ladder and planted yourself in front of Venable. You couldn’t help the grin that stretched across your face as you met her eyes and she glared, squinting slightly at you, her right hand clutching the knob of her cane.
“Those are so pretty don’t you think?” you said, nodding at the string of purple lights. She glanced up at it.
“Mutt and Jeff asked for red lights,” she said in that deep, cold voice of hers.
You shrugged, looked down at the floor.”Too bad. I thought you’d like these better.”
You eagerly looked at her out of the corner of your eye to gauge her reaction; nothing. You were about to roll your eyes at her when the corner of her mouth twitched and stretched into a small, fond, almost shy smile – and your heart sang with joy.
She didn’t smile a lot, Ms Venable. There were the small, incredulous smiles when someone said or did something that scared her. There were the mean, condescending smiles, like a predator baring its teeth. Those smiles no one was eager to see, for they presaged bad things. Cruel things. They weren’t really smiles at all, you thought.
But once in a while she would smile a smile that was genuine and fond. Those were as rare as seeing the moment a caterpillar turns into a butterfly. What made them even more special was, she seemed to give them to you only. Your heart had stopped beating, actually stopped beating, the first time you had seen her face soften and her eyes light up and her mouth curl up. You had felt so grateful, and so honored, to be allowed to witness such a sight. Since that day you had been starving for it.
It was so beautiful, that smile. So you decided it was your own sacred duty to find what would conjure it every single day of the rest of your life.
Stupid jokes didn’t work. They would only make Venable glare at you condescendingly. One day you asked one of your coworkers to hit you in front of her, to see if it would make her laugh, as you knew that worked with babies. Venable gave you a look as if you had gone mad – maybe you had. Infatuations tended to turn your brain into mush.
You tried to compliment her – you only got a snarky comment or a contemptuous look in return. You tried to bring her gifts, a cup of coffee she didn’t ask for, a book you loved, a lavender scarf you had spotted in a shop window and which had reminded you of her – a polite, if slightly cold, thank you.
And then one Monday morning as you told her about your weekend while she made coffee, she glanced sideways at you and here it was – here it was, the sparkle in her eyes, the curling of her lips, the fondness and the beauty and the colorful butterfly wings that made your heart flutter.
Casual conversations. Just you and her, talking about nothing in particular. Not you goofing around, not you putting a gloss on your personality to try and please her. Just you being yourself. That’s what made her smile.
You had to run to the nearest bathroom like a fool, your chest bursting with emotion. With one hand on either side of the sink you stared at your reflection in the mirror, your eyes wide and glassy, not quite daring to believe what had just happened. You could have burst into tears. Your head and your heart were full of her.
You tried again the day after, just to make sure you had not been dreaming. You walked to her office during your lunch break, leaned against the doorway, asked her a few questions about work. She looked up from her computer and locked eyes with you. She always listened to you with attention, never cutting you off, nodding to what you said, asking you for more details. It made you feel so special, so appreciated and understood. Most people always seemed bored with you. They would start talking to someone else even though you were in the middle of a sentence, or only hum and change the subject, or never raise their eyes from their phones while they had lunch with you. You had grown used to it, accepted it, thought it was okay and normal. No one liked having to spend time with boring people.
But Venable always listened to you. She seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say. And she smiled – oh, she smiled, for no reason at all. As if the mere sound of your voice was the most beautiful, the most charming thing she had ever heard. And just as she liked hearing you talk, so did you: she was smart, sharp-witted and educated. You could listen to her speak for hours.
So today when you had offered to help decorating the room for the dance, and your gaze had fallen on the purple fairy lights tangled in a cardboard box, all you’d been able to think about had been Venable, and that maybe if the universe was kind enough she would be grateful, and maybe, just maybe, she would hold your hand, or stroke your cheek.
“I appreciate your intention, Y/N,” Venable said. “But as you already know I won’t be attending the dance, so who cares if I like the decoration.”
You pursed your lips to hide your annoyance and disappointment. “Are you sure about that?” you asked, assuming a causal expression, as if you were starting a conversation about the weather.
“Sure about what?”
“Not attending the dance. It means so much to Jeff and Mutt, and it’s not every day a company turns fifteen. Besides, you’ve done so much for Kineros, you should come and enjoy the fun.”
“Idiots prancing about all night long isn’t exactly my definition of fun,” Venable retorted.
“What if I asked you to go with me? As my date?”
What on Earth had made you bold enough to ask her that, you didn’t know. But she looked so damn beautiful under the fairy lights with that fiery red hair and those eyes and those cheekbones, you couldn’t hold your words and your admiration back. But maybe you should have, because now she looked mad.
“Excuse me?” she said, her voice laced with outrage.
You lowered your chin sheepishly, heat flooding your cheeks.”I mean… if you want to, of course.”
“I don’t,” she snapped.
Something in her voice, or maybe in the way her eyes widened slightly and her grip on her cane tightened, made you bold again.
“Are you sure?”you asked, taking one step towards her. She held her ground.
“I’m sure.”
You raised one hand, twisted a strand of your hair around your finger.
“Because I was thinking we could go together, and maybe dance together, and when we’re tired of all those ‘idiots’ I could drive you to my place and make you some dinner.”
Venable was glaring at you as if you had insulted her. But then, very slowly, part of her anger melted and her eyes seemed to veil over with an almost wistful look.
“Think about it,” you smiled.
Venable scoffed. “There’s nothing to think about. My decision is made.”
“Maybe so. But can you think about it?”
And before she had time to retort, you leaned in and planted a kiss on her cheek, then fled the room before she could cane you.
**
“You’ve been staring at the same page for half an hour.” A hand, closing around your shoulder; red hair, tickling your neck. Venable leaned over your shoulder and whispered in your ear, “Do you think I hired you so you could waste your time daydreaming?”
You gulped, heat flooding your cheeks, and squirmed on your chair as your whole body tingled and suddenly came alive in her presence.
“I’m sorry, Ms Venable.” Your voice was raspy; you cleared your throat. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”
Venable hummed. She tapped one finger on your shoulder and blew hot air through her nose on the skin of your neck.
“You’re standing awfully close to me,” you rasped.
Venable smirked. “That’s rich, coming from someone who has no respect for personal space.”
Her fingers curled on your shoulder, nails raking the fabric of your shirt, and then she straightened and left, leaving you with your heart beating madly in your chest and heat pooling between your legs.
Before you left that day, you knocked on her office door. She looked up from her computer and smiled, before she remembered to school her features. Then she glared, and you couldn’t help but grin giddily at her.
“What do you want?” she snapped. “I’m busy.”
“I was just wondering if you had changed your mind about the dance tonight.”
She didn’t even bother to answer you and focused her attention back on her work. You waited for a few seconds, listening to the sound of her fingers tapping on the keyboard. Then you leaned against the wall and crossed your arms on your chest.
“Do you plan on going back home before it starts?” you asked. “I can pick you up at your place at 7, and then we can –“
“What part of ‘I am not coming’ does your feeble brain not understand?” Venable said, raising her head to look at you, her eyes cold and mean.
“Why not?”you retorted.
Anger flared in her eyes. “That is none of your business.”
You waited a few moments, and then said in a quiet, soothing voice, “I’d really love to dance with you.”  
Her fingers froze above the keyboard. She shot you a surprised look over the rim of her glasses, and you gave her a warm smile.
Something in her face softened. It almost looked – almost – as if some of her walls had crumbled down. For a moment you saw her as she must look like in the morning, relaxed and peaceful, eyes soft, limbs heavy with sleep. Your heart swelled and fluttered with affection. But then she reached for her cane and wrapped her fingers around the knob.
“I hate dancing,” she said sharply.
“That’s fine. We can still enjoy each other’s company.”
She squinted at you, jaw tightening. “I do not enjoy your company,” she mocked, imitating your intonation.    
You pretended that did not hurt. You shifted your weight from one leg to the other and tried to smile again, but it looked more like an ugly grimace. She noticed, and her expression softened.  
For a long moment there was only silence. Her eyes were scrutinizing you, dark and unreadable. Just as you were about to give up and leave, she tapped her cane on the floor, making you jump. “You can meet me here at 7:30,” she said. “Be prompt.”
**
Your hands were sweating. Your heart was beating madly in your chest, as if it wanted to free its way out of you. You smoothed your hands over your clothes, over and over again, as you made your way towards Venable’s office. You had changed into evening wear, nothing too fancy, sprayed perfume on your wrists and neck. The corridors were buzzing with the excited voices of your coworkers, happy, carefree for a night. It almost felt like prom night.
You stopped in front of Venable’s office door, swallowed, took a deep breath for courage, and knocked. The door opened immediately, startling you.
Venable was still in her work clothes, ponytail as neat as ever, face beautiful. You couldn’t help but gaze at her in awe.
“Hello,” you muttered after a while.
Venable shot you a disdainful look. She closed the door and said, “Let’s go. I want to get it over with.”
“Always a pleasure,” you muttered. She didn’t reply.
Side by side you walked to the room where the dance was to be held. It was already crowded with people, people calling each other and waving, people gathered around the buffet, people guffawing and laughing. You spotted Mutt and Jeff in the middle of the room, faces flushed with pride. Two huge pink and yellow balloons, in the shape of a 1 and a 5, hung from the ceiling.
You scanned the crowd, excitement and joy gradually seeping into you. You had always loved parties, always loved the feeling of belonging and of freedom, the heat of bodies all around you. It made you feel strong. You started bouncing on your toes, smiling at familiar faces, laughing as one of your coworkers made a face at you on his way back from the buffet. How you loved parties.
Venable, on the contrary, had tensed up the minute she had stepped into the room. She stood tall and proud, head held high, posture impeccable, but you noticed how tightly she was gripping her cane, and caught a glimpse of the fear in her eyes. Someone brushed past her too close for comfort and she almost recoiled. She was nervous, ill at ease. Her eyes darted from one face to another as if she were expecting a slap or a jeer from anyone.
“Come on,” you said, nodding to a table in a corner. “It’ll be quieter over there.”
As you reached the table, the music started; Blondie, Heart of Glass. Mutt threw his arms up in the air and gave a happy yell. Venable shot him a contemptuous look.
“Are you hungry?” you asked her. “Sit down, I’ll go get us something to eat.”
You threaded your way through the crowd to the buffet, grabbed two plates and piled food on them. You had no idea what Venable liked, so you chose a bit of everything: vegetables, meat, rice, a thick slice of bread. One of your coworkers came up to you and made a few jokes before her partner dragged her to the dance floor in the middle of the room. You watched them wistfully for a few seconds, then made your way back to Venable, holding the plates as close to your chest as you could to avoid they be knocked over by someone’s elbow.  
Venable looked even tenser than when you had left her. She was sitting very, very straight, eyes shooting daggers at no one in particular, one hand gripping her cane. You slowed down as you got close and watched her. She looked exactly like an animal, a predator, trapped in a cage surrounded by a curious crowd, baring its teeth every time someone tapped on the bars, trying to find a corner where to hide. She met your eyes, and visibly relaxed when you sat down at the table and handed her one of the plates.  
Things got easier from then on. You both ate your food in-between bits of conversation. You had to bend over the table to hear each other speak over the music, heads only a few inches apart. Lights danced across Venable’s face, shadows shifting, sparkles in her eyes. At one point you laughed, and her eyes flicked to your lips and lingered there a second or two. You bit your lower lip, shot her an amused look. She picked up her glass and hid her reddening cheeks behind it as she took a few sips.
Warmth was spreading inside you. You told yourself it was the food, or maybe the music, or maybe the party. You told yourself maybe it was the combination of those three things. But then Venable brought a hand up to her ear to play with her earring as she listened to you talk, her gaze fond and intense; her lips parted in a smile that made joy fizzle in your stomach.
It was her, without a doubt.  
You leaned closer and said giddily, “I love seeing you smile.”
She didn’t hear you. The music was too loud. So you said it again, almost a yell. She frowned, narrowed her eyes at you.
“It’s true,” you went on, grabbing your empty glass and pressing it against your mouth to hide behind it, just as Venable had done a few minutes before. “You have such a beautiful smile, but I guess you must hear that all the time.”
Venable opened her mouth, closed it again. There was a strange look in her eyes you could not quite identify. Her hand came up to play with her earring again, and then she raised her shoulders and jerked her head to the side like a child trying to hide the fact that they’re lying. “Thank you,” she said.”I do hear that all the time.”
A man who was waltzing drunkenly almost collided with your chair. You shoved him back into the arms of his friend, laughing. When you glanced at Venable, laughter still on your mouth, you caught a glimpse of her fond smile before she had time to compose her features. Your heart swelled. Beaming, you raised your glass, forgetting it was empty – “To Kineros’ fifteenth birthday!” – forgetting you didn’t even like the company, forgetting everything that wasn’t her.
The music changed. The quick tempo faded and was replaced by a slow melody, a piano and a violin, a deep, melancholy male voice. It soothed your heart and made it ache at the same time. All around the room couples found each other and pressed their bodies against each other and started slow dancing. You glanced sideways at Venable.
She was staring at the dancers with a sad look in her eyes, her thumb tapping distractedly on the knob of her cane. Her gaze fell on one of your coworkers’ face, happy and beaming as she twirled and twirled and laughed. Her partner wrapped one arm around her waist and dipped her. Venable’s grip on her cane tightened, knuckles turning white, and the sadness spilled from her eyes and spread across her face.
You cleared your throat to draw her attention.
“Shall we?” you said, gesturing towards the dancers.
Venable straightened her shoulders, raised her chin and shook her head. “I told you I don’t like dancing,” she said.
You hummed, studying her face. “Then why do you look so sad?”
She shot you a surprised look, eyes widening. You were expecting a mean retort, but instead she stared at the dancers again, and her lower lip trembled.
And then it finally dawned on you. The problem wasn’t that she hated dancing. The problem was that she couldn’t.
You swore you heard your heart break over the music. You had to dig your nails into your arm to stop yourself from reaching out and pulling her into a hug. For a moment you kept silent, and then as the violins swelled and the lights danced on Wilhemina’s face, you wrapped one hand around her wrist and pulled her up and towards the dance floor.
Her mouth opened in protest, but the words died in her throat when you laid one hand on the curve of her waist and used your other hand to guide hers to your shoulder. Her fingers stuttered over your skin, wide eyes meeting yours. You gave her a reassuring smile, brought your hand down and gently laced your fingers with hers around the knob of her cane.
And then you started to sway under the purple fairy lights.
Slowly, carefully, giving her time to adjust, guiding her movements with your hand on her waist. Moving one foot, then the other. In rhythm with the lazy lament of the violins.
Wilhemina’s body slowly relaxed. She found her pace, her eyes never leaving yours, the lights making them glitter. You smiled, and gazed at her as her face softened with gratitude and something else that maybe, just maybe, looked like love. Her eyes lit up as she returned your smile and you swore – your heart was singing louder than the music.
You watched as the sadness melted and genuine happiness bloomed from her smile.
You pulled her closer and pressed your forehead against hers. You felt her breath hitch, saw her eyes flutter closed. So you allowed yourself to sink into her presence, sink into the music, sink into the moment.
And you prayed for the song never to end.
But it did, too soon, too abruptly. Another song started, upbeat and fierce. Wilhemina stopped moving and squared her shoulders. You took her hand, gave it a squeeze and led her back to your table.
She didn’t say thank you. She didn’t have to. The look in her eyes spoke plenty enough.
**
“Well then,” you said as you pulled up in front of Wilhemina’s house – small, white walls, perfectly mown lawn. You paused. You didn’t know what to add after that.
Wilhemina did not move. You glanced sideways at her, swallowing around the lump in your throat. Every nerve in your body was screaming for her to stay. Maybe you could take her on a drive, find a secluded spot, lie down in the grass and watch her as the stars slowly moved in the sky.
“That was nice,” you said after a while.
Wilhemina nodded. “Thank you for the lift,” she said.
“You’re welcome,” you smiled.
Still she did not move. Both her hands were wrapped around the knob of her cane, and she was staring straight ahead at the trees bordering the sidewalk. Her eyes shone faintly in the dark.
You cleared your throat. Your whole body was tingling with the need to touch her, to be near her, to feel her warmth again. You wondered if you would dare, if you would ever be bold enough. But you had been bold when you had invited her to the dance, and she had said yes; so you would be bold again.
“Can I stay at your place tonight?” you asked.
She turned her head to look at you. A small, incredulous smile – afraid to be hurt.
“No you may n – “She cut herself off. Scrutinized your face. You waited, barely daring to breathe, your heart drumming in your ears. Wanting to be near her, now and always and forever.
“I can sleep on the couch,” you added quickly, averting your gaze. Your cheeks were starting to burn, and you were oh so grateful for the darkness.
Silence. Out of the corner of your eye you saw her reaching for the car door handle.
“I guess you can stay,” she said in an expressionless voice. “I don’t see any harm in that.”
**
“I have some clean pajamas you can borrow for the night,” Wilhemina said without looking at you.
“It’s okay,” you teased. “I can sleep naked.”
She shot you a look, then averted her gaze again and turned to rearrange a stack of papers on the coffee table, but you still saw it – the soft blush that bloomed in her cheeks. You sat back on the couch, grinning, and folded your hands behind your head.
“So,” you sang, “tonight wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be, was it?”
She hummed. She was still pretending to rearrange the stack of papers, so you stood up and planted yourself in front of her.  
“Was it?” you repeated, fighting the giddy, smug grin that tugged at your lips. She straightened her shoulders, narrowed her eyes at you. You couldn’t quite decide whether she was amused or outraged by your behavior.
“What do you want me to say?” she retorted, her voice just a little bit raspier than usual. “That you were right?”
She was so close. You took her hand, laced your fingers with hers and kissed her knuckles. Her breath hitched. You grazed your lips on her skin, never breaking eye contact.
“I’d really like to dance with you again,” you whispered.
“But there’s no music,” Wilhemina answered in a breath.
You hummed, slipped one arm around her waist and pulled her closer. “Who needs music to dance?”
She seemed to consider your words for a minute. Her eyes drifted to your lips. She inhaled shakily, then closed the space between you and pressed her chest against yours.
Your breath caught in your throat. Your body simultaneously tingled with life and combusted to ashes. Your eyes fell closed as you pressed your forehead against hers, just as you had at the dance, except this time it felt even more special. Maybe it was the privacy, or the silence, or how warm and firm her chest was against yours. Maybe it was the way she touched her nose to yours, or how, when she let out a breath, you felt it hot on your mouth and you had to stop yourself from capturing her lips in yours and kissing her senseless.
You didn’t even realize you had started slow dancing. You were too focused on her and on the way her body felt against yours to notice anything else. You wrapped both arms around her waist and held her tight, fingers digging into the fat on her hips. A moment passed, and then she, almost angrily, pushed her pelvis against yours.    
You stopped breathing entirely.
Every inch of you was burning. She had set you on fire, and you were melting, melting into her, core aching, head buzzing. So then you did the only thing that felt right. You tilted your head, crashed your mouth against hers and devoured her.
She whimpered, brought a hand up to your cheek, pressed herself even closer into you. You were pretty sure by now your insides had turned into molten lava. Her hand slid up to tangle in your hair, and you heard a clang as her cane fell to the ground, felt her other hand press on the small of your back, grip the fabric of your garment, boldly slide down to knead your ass.
“God, Wilhemina,” you whined into her mouth. She was going to be the end of you. She had cast a spell on you and now you’d die if you had to spend a single second away from her. You felt her smile, that beautiful, bewitching smile of hers that had started it all – and suddenly you needed to see it again, so you pulled away, eliciting an angry groan from her. You put one hand on her shoulder to hold her back.
She was breathing hard, cheeks flushed and lipstick smeared, eyes so dark and so predatory it sent shivers down your spine. You ran your thumb over her mouth, giggled when she nipped it. Her lips twitched, and your eyes widened in expectation, heart racing, heart singing – and then she smiled, that smile that softened her face and made her eyes light up, that smile she only ever smiled for you.
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yandere-daydreams · 4 years ago
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Title: Progression. 
Pairing: Yandere!Best-Jeanist/Reader.
Commission for the lovely @99shadowcat99.
Word Count: 1.6k.
Synopsis: You’re sure Hakamada only has your best interests in mind. You came to him in a time of need, after all, and as a hero, it’s only natural that he’d want to see you improve. You’re sure he does, you only wish he didn’t have such a cold way of showing it.
TW: Toxic Relationships, Financial Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Gaslighting, and Slight Stockholm Syndrome.
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It probably didn’t help that you’d been at such a low point, when Hakamada first found you.
It was something you couldn’t deny, something you didn’t try to deny, not when it had such a lasting impact on your relationship. He’d pitied you, back then, met you when you were broke and desperate and willing to do just about anything for a recommendation, a place to stay, a steady wage and all the stability he and his agency could provide, if you just managed to worm your way in. You could only be thankful he’d decided to interview you personally, despite his position. You never would’ve gotten the job, otherwise.
You’d never admitted that to him, not out loud, but that was something you liked about Hakamada - he picked up on little details, no matter how subtle. He noticed up on your willingness to work overtime, your erratic apologies whenever he called you into his office, regardless of the reason why. Your chronic lateness, your reliance on the charity of your coworkers whenever the staff went out for after-hour drinks. You’d never told him, but you never needed to. He was more than willing to help you, whether or not you let him know how much you appreciated it. He was a Hero, after all. It only made sense that he'd do whatever he could for someone in need.
The job hadn’t lasted, you weren’t really cut out for it, but Hakamada had.
Some days, you could even convince yourself he’d done it out of love.
Tonight, the task was easier than it usually was. In his penthouse, standing in front of the full-body mirror he’d had brought in and installed just for you, it was easy to fall into the idea that you were the object of his affections, the apple of his eye, someone he cared about and someone he cared about genuinely, especially when you were already dressed in clothes he’d bought, wearing the jewelry he’d been generous enough to pay for. You knew it wasn’t much, for him. Even if everything he gave you was designer, expensive enough to make your heart speed up and your throat go dry, it wouldn’t make a dent in his salary, and he seemed to like providing for you more than you liked being provided for, honestly. But, you couldn’t refuse. Hakamada had done so much for you, he was still doing so much for you. If he wanted someone to spoil, you couldn’t refuse. And, while you were on the topic…
“Are you ready, beautiful?”
You couldn’t let him know you were so reluctant, either.
You hadn’t heard him come in, but that didn’t stop you from leaning into his touch as you felt his hand cup your cheek, its twin coming to rest on your hip. He was gentle, if nothing else, his chest barely touching your back as he leaned forward, eyes scanning over your reflection, searching patiently for something to correct. You didn’t mind, submitting yourself to his scrutiny with minimal resistance. He was a perfectionist. He looked at everyone like a project, and you weren’t an exception.
Still, you tried to sound confident when you answered. Even if that meant lying through your teeth. “I think so,” You said, smoothing over your outfit one last time. “It’s a Hero’s gala, right? It’s not like anyone’s going to bother paying attention to me.”
“If you’re on my arm, they will.” He always sounded so stern. This wasn’t your first event, you’d gone plenty of times as his assistant and as his partner, but Hakamada liked to be thorough. Before, he’d dug the heel of his palm into the base of your spine, pinched your cheek whenever your attention started to drift, and even after his valet had already arrived, he’d still spend the better half of the drive searching for loose threads and stray hairs to aggressively correct. Now, to fix your posture, he was kind enough to stop at squeezing your hip, his free hand nudging gently at your shoulder. It was merciful, in comparison, but it was still difficult not to feel like a prized mutt, locked into a muzzle and dragged onto a pedestal. “Keep your back straight. You remember everything we went over, don’t you?”
Of course. He’d only spent the past three hours drilling it into you. “I do, Hakamada.”
There was a pause, just the slightest bit of hesitation. “Hakamada?”
To your credit, you caught your mistake a second after he did. “I mean, I do, Tsunagu--”
“You’re really going to address me like that in front of journalists?”
Your eyes dropped below the mirror. For whatever reason, you didn’t want to look at him, anymore. “I’m sorry, Tsun’.”
Luckily, that seemed to satisfy him. Hakamada let out a heavy sigh, and you could feel him shaking his head, more out of disappointment than genuine annoyance. The gesture was familiar, as was the anger-tinged guilt that accompanied it, but he still took his time, letting the feeling brew before he bothered to speak. Sometimes, you had to wonder if he did that on purpose, if he knew he was only making you feel worse by trying to act so forgiving. Most of the time, though, you pushed the thought out before you could dwell on it. You’d only be making things worse for yourself, if you started thinking about things like that. “I’m just trying to help,” He started, the mantra already engraved into your mind. “You’ve come so far since I first found you. All that progress shouldn’t go to waste.”
It wasn’t a question. He didn’t need you to agree. It shouldn’t, and as far as Hakamada was concerned, you didn’t get a choice in the matter. “I know. I’ve come too far to backtrack.”
“You’ve come too far to throw it away.” That was something you didn’t like, when you’d worked for him. It was all or nothing, with Hakamada. A mission was either a success or a disaster. His newest sidekick was either a prodigy or a wash-out waiting to happen. Failure wasn’t an option, not when the slightest mistake meant disrepair. “Things have gotten better for you, haven’t they? You’ve enjoyed your time with me?” It was a question, this time, but he didn’t want an answer, even if he paused as gloved fingers trailed over your side, only leaving your skin for a moment before he cupped your jaw, tilting your head back just far enough for the change to be noticeable. Just far enough to force you to look at your reflection, whether or not you wanted to. “It’d be such a shame if all of this had to come to an end just because of a few insignificant, avoidable mistakes.”
Suddenly, your throat went dry, your heart drawing a little too tight in your chest. It'd been happening more than it should, lately, considering how careful Hakamada encouraged you to be with your health. “You’re… This is going to end?”
He always seemed to enjoy it, when you said things like that. Maybe it was your tone, the softened desperation you didn’t try to hide, or maybe he took it as a confession, a sign that you cared for him, or that you cared for what he could provide, at least. You hoped it was the latter. He liked it when you were desperate, and you liked to pretend that he didn’t. “Of course not, dear,” He soothed, his disappointment suddenly gone and replaced with something more assuring, something more sentimental. As sentimental as Hakamada was capable of being, anyway. “I’d sooner lock you up completely than ever let my little muse run off. Besides...” He trailed off, a light chuckle fading into a scoff. “Even if I did lose you, I wouldn’t be able to let you go, not entirely. It wouldn’t be fitting for my partner, past or present, to go back to living in some tiny apartment, struggling to make ends meet. It’d be embarrassing, for both of us, and I don’t know if I’d be able to stand the distance.”
You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t have to. Hakamada was distracted, now, pressing a light kiss into the dip of your shoulder before he pulled away, fiddling with the cuffs of his suit. “We’re already running late. When you’re ready, come find me. I’ll be waiting.”
You didn’t turn around. You heard the door to his bedroom close, his footsteps growing more distant as the seconds ticked by, but you didn’t feel the need to watch him, you didn’t want to see him, his face, how unaffected he was by the doubts that plagued you like some ever-lasting, unshakable waking nightmare. You knew it wasn’t healthy, objectively. You shouldn’t have to wonder if your boyfriend really likes you. You shouldn’t have to practice your smile, lower your voice, contort yourself to fit his standards of perfection, your needs be damned. It wasn’t healthy, it wasn’t even pleasant, but…
He was right. You didn’t go back to the way things used to be. Starving, working yourself to the bone to make rent, letting any Pro-Hero who showed an interest turn you into something soft and toothless and malleable. It was easier to be with Hakamada. It was easier to let him have his way.
It was easier to tell yourself that you’d still be allowed to leave, if you wanted to.
With that in mind, you turned on your heel, starting in the direction he’d gone off in. You would stay. You had to stay.
You wouldn’t know how to be yourself without him, anymore.
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missmonsters2 · 5 years ago
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You Found Me
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Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader/OFC
Summary: Part II to Under the Light.  Two years have passed . You think there are somethings you can’t survive, but you find a way. And when you’re forced to face Wanda once more, you learn that time can heal almost anything, but some things don’t change.
Note: This was part of my 500 (or 800) follower celebration a while back. 1/3 fics that I will be writing a part II for with a happy ending. This is about as happy as it gets LOL For any new readers, make sure to read part I: under the light for this to make sense. 
Warnings: implied depression, panic attacks, moving on & therapy.
PART I: Under the Light
Genre: Soft Angst & Romance
Count: 6589
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The end isn't always what you think it is. 
You think after the end, that's it. Roll the credit scene, and fade to black. That's the end of the book; there isn't anything else.
But it's not.
There's always something after the end, and in your case, it's called moving on.
"So?"
You look up, thoughts interrupted.
"I don't know, doc," you sigh, leaning back on the couch.
"Try to explain it," he gently asks, his legs are crossed as he's got his chin in his hand, notebook strewn aside.
You gnaw on your bottom lip, trying to string your thoughts together.
"I guess the hardest parts are the small things I have to remind myself that I don't need to do anymore. Like, earlier this month, there was a new Netflix show that I know she'd love, and I caught myself not watching it because I felt like I should wait for her, but I don't need to anymore," you hope that's enough to convey what you're feeling to your therapist.
"And?" He probes, and you sigh. 
Of course, it wouldn't be enough. You knew better by now.
"And I feel...lost," you shrug.
Your therapist hums.
"Why do you feel lost?" Your therapist questions. "What was it about Wanda that made you feel found?"
Talking about Wanda still feels like there's a painful thudding on your chest.
"I..." You rasp, "Because she was like me. Broken. She saw me for me and loved me anyway. And that all crumbled apart."
"Because she's not broken anymore?"
You nod tiredly.
"So, what is the concept of broken people?" Your therapist asks as he leans back in his chair. "If you can be unbroken, were they broken in the first place? Is being broken a forever issue?"
You're silent because you don't know. 
"Think about it," your therapist says, uncrossing his legs. "I think you should be opening to meeting more people, making more friends, and letting things progress naturally without too many expectations."
You nod, licking your lips, thoughts coming and going from your mind.
"Alright, that's it for our session today. Think about what I said and come see me again in a couple weeks," your therapist closes his notepad, standing up to let you out.
"Alright, thanks, doc," you say with a soft grin that your therapist returns.
"You're doing really well," he compliments you, "much better than when I found you."
You laugh, "You mean a real nutcase."
"Not at all," your therapist smiles, "You came here, lost and alone. Even though you had said you wanted to give up, you found a job before anything else. You have a stubborn fighting spirit, that even when you feel like you're at your end, you keep going. Be a little proud of that."
"Thanks, David." 
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
Do you ever wonder what the truth is? Is the truth just a matter of circumstance? 
Because the truth is that you had run. You ran from New York and began again in LA. 
You saw the missed calls from Wanda and changed your number. You knew that she could find you, if she wanted, you can't hide from her powers and you can't hide from Tony's money.
But running and changing your numbers told her you didn't want her to come after you. 
But maybe there's a truth to that too.
"Hey, got your usual."
You look up to see the friendly coffee shop owner across from your building.
"Have I become that predictable, Lucy?" you reply with a friendly smile.
Lucy hands you your drink, laughing lightly as she does. She throws in a free muffin.
"Maybe you're just my favorite customer," she grins.
You quirk your brow at her. Lucy is undoubtedly pretty, with her blonde hair and green eyes. She's funny, and she's easy-going.
"Are you flirting with me over baked goods?" 
"Is there any other way?" Lucy tilts her head.
You smile at her, and she returns it.
"Can I have your number?" She asks bluntly, and you find yourself pausing for a moment.
It's small things like this that you find catching yourself at.
The quick second where you almost automatically say no because your body is so used to having Wanda. 
The next quick second, where it feels like you're cheating even if she's not with you anymore.
It's a constant reminder you have to learn to live your own life.
You grab an extra coffee sleeve on the side and the pen, scribbling your number down.
You give Lucy a small smile before you wave off and set off to get to work.
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"Hey, where's the fire today?" You ask your coworker as you see the office bustling around more than usual.
"We have a new client. She wants a marketing plan for her company. It's brand new, but she's bringing loads of money. Harris is sucking ass hard to keep her happy," your coworker gossips with you and you hum.
You're not really too concerned about it. After all, you're still relatively new to the company, only having worked for a year and a half. 
You were just a novice marketing designer. You worked on small jobs, fixing up other people's work, creating a few things here and there. Your boss was just starting to give you more responsibilities and really liked the ideas you were bringing.
"She sounds like a pain in the ass," you say. You've met big clients before. Most of them were demanding and a little on the rude side, but you couldn't really do much about it when you're just a novice designer. 
"Oh, we're passing by the meeting room, let's see what's going on," your worker huddles a little closer to you as the conference room comes up. As you pass by the glass walls, your breath stops.
It's been 2 years, but you could never forget her face.
She looks the same, a little more mature maybe. She's dyed her hair blonde, and no longer has the split hair part, but now to the side.
An array of emotions flicker through you, but it's the single, loud thought that draws her attention to you.
'Fuck.'
Her head whips over to you, shock registering on her face, and at least you know this wasn't a planned attack.
"Oh, she's hot," your coworker whispers to you, and the only response you have to that is swallowing.
"I gotta go," you mutter, speeding past the room and leaving your coworker alone. 
You don't even know where to go, but all you know is that you can't be in the same building as Wanda, let alone a room. Bolting out of the building, you walk and walk until you find yourself back at the café. 
You sigh, entering the shop.
"Hey," Lucy greets you, surprise on her face that you're back so soon.
You try to give her a smile, but it probably comes out as more of a grimace. 
And when Lucy cocks her brow at you, you sigh.
"Sorry," you breathe, "I got ambushed at work. I need somewhere to hide, and I don't know, I ended up here."
Lucy merely nods as you take a seat at one of the tables, setting your bookbag down. You've got your head in your hands as you're trying to control your breathing.
A cup of coffee being set down brings you out of your momentary panic. You look up to see Lucy taking a seat diagonally from you. 
"On the house for my favorite panicky customer," she lightly teases you, smiling when she gets you to chuckle. 
"Thanks," you say, taking a sip of the drink. 
You can tell it's decaf, and you smile at her being considerate. 
"So," Lucy slowly speaks, "want to share what's gotten you so shaken that you ran back to my coffee shop before I even had a chance to give you a call?"
You bite your lip.
"I..." You start.
"My ex showed up at my firm. She's a customer. An important one at that, it seems."
It's probably not a good start to talk about your ex, one that clearly so affects you still, to someone you just gave your number to in the prospect of going on a date. 
Lucy hums. 
"It didn't end well?" She surmises, and you shakily nodded. 
"Are you still in love with her?" Lucy asks.
You don't answer right away, but it's enough for Lucy to have an answer. 
You don't look at her because it's obvious this was crashing and burning too.
"I..." Lucy licks her lips, "would like to take you on a date."
Your head snaps at to look at her like she's grown three heads.
"What?" You sputter. "Are you sure? I have a lot of baggage clearly."
Lucy shrugs.
"Who doesn't have baggage?"
Your expression shows her that you're unsure because this doesn't exactly spell out it's going to end well, not that it wouldn't either.
"Look," Lucy puts her hand atop of yours, "I'm well aware you're probably still in love with your ex. Whatever it was, it must've been intense. I know full well what I would be getting myself into if I take you on a date. But I think you deserve to go out with someone and see there's more out there."
You stare at her hand on top of yours, blinking. 
"Just think about it," Lucy pats your hand as the door rings, indicating another customer has come in. "You're welcomed to stay to hide, and you know where to find me."
Lucy leaves you in your thoughts. You do take her up on her offer to stay because there's no way to go out back to the office. You e-mail your boss you'll be working elsewhere for the day, but he doesn't care as long as you turn in your drafts. 
At the end of your shift, you get up, giving Lucy a half-shy, half-awkward wave and leave.
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You leisurely take your time walking home to be able to process your thoughts. 
You feel a little calmer than you did when you first bumped into Wanda this morning, but now you had more on your plate with Wanda and deciding if you wanted to go on a date with Lucy. 
Although time has passed, you were only really beginning to heal yourself.  You weren't really sure if you were in the right headspace for dating. 
It felt much more serious now that Lucy knew you had some baggage, and still wanted to go on a date. It didn't feel casual anymore.
You were beginning to walk up to your duplex when you spotted someone sitting on your steps. 
"What are you doing here?" You bite out.
There she was, Wanda, sitting on your steps with her head in her hands. She snapped up, hearing your voice. 
A wide variety of emotions passed her face. 
"You're here," she breathed, and you find yourself recoiling with the thick emotion in her voice as she spoke. 
Wanda stands up, going down the steps before she's standing in front of you.
The smell of vanilla and cinnamon invades your nose, and a whole new wave of anxiety passes you with the familiarity of it.
Your heart starts thudding in your chest, and you're breathing heavily. Something on your face tells Wanda you're about to have a panic attack. She starts to come closer, wanting to wrap her arms around you, but she pauses.
Wanda knows that she's the cause of this right now, so she backs up and gives you some space with her hands up non-threateningly. 
"Hey," she softly speaks, "it's okay. I won't invade your space."
You close your eyes as you try to focus.
"That's it," Wanda tries to guide you, "breathe in. Hold it...that's good, okay, exhale slowly."
This repeats for minutes until you've calmed down. 
"I'm sorry," Wanda says slowly, "I would've called first, but I didn't know your number."
"That didn't stop you from showing up at my place," you mutter. 
Wanda bites her lip, but nods. 
"What do you want?" You ask her.
"Can we go inside? It's not safe about it to talk outside," Wanda nods her head towards your door.
You frown, not really wanting to let her in, but you sigh and nod. 
You pass by her, careful to not breathe in her scent as you open the door and let her in. 
You barely acknowledge her as you drop your things on the kitchen table and start to heat your kettle for hot water. 
Wanda walks in slowly, taking in your place. 
She notices that it both feels homey and empty.
You've clearly taken care of your place, getting a nice couch, and the effort of getting pillows and throw blankets for it. There's art on the wall, but there are no personal photos anywhere. 
It was like a show home. 
You watch Wanda stare at your things as you lean against the wall. 
"Why are you here?" You ask, breaking Wanda's thoughts as she looks over to you.
She purses her lips, let out a deep sigh.
"I'm on a mission. I didn't realize you were working there. I just wanted to let you know that I'm investigating your boss."
"My boss," you repeat slowly, and Wanda nods. 
"I can't go into many details, but I'm undercover right now."
You grumble. Of course, the firm you pick to build your career has a shady boss running it.
"Fine," you huff, "I won't get in your way. Anything else?"
Wanda's eyes soften as she looks at you.
"How are you? You look good," she sincerely says to you, and you give her a blank expression. 
There's a tumulus feeling rumbling underneath you. You want to scream at her because why is she asking? It's none of her business. 
Wanda sighs again when you don't answer her. "I sincerely didn't know you worked at the firm. If I had known you worked there, I would've asked someone else to take this mission."
There's a bit of a sting to her words because as much as you didn't want to see her, it sounds like she didn't want to see you either. 
"Well," you huff, "no worries about me. I won't get in your way. Do what you have to do."
Perhaps because there's a bite to your words, a tone of sarcasm as you walk back into the kitchen, Wanda follows you.
"Hey," she calls, grabbing your wrist to turn you around. You immediately pull your arm away, and Wanda lets go, an apologetic look on her face.
"I didn't mean it like that," Wanda explains.
It's silent, and you don't say anything, not making another move even though your kettle as turned off, signaling the hot water was done.
"I wanted to chase you," Wanda says. 
The words hang in the air, and you're not sure what to do with that. You just let the words sting.
"I wanted to follow you immediately the day you left. You ran so fast. One moment you were breaking up with me, and then the next day, you bought a plane ticket and left," Wanda ran her fingers through her hair. 
"I harassed Tony into finding out where you had gone. I bought a plane ticket, ready to go after you," Wanda stopped talking.
You were clenching and unclenching your jaw. 
"But Natasha said I shouldn't," Wanda finally says, and you're ready to explode at her, barely able to just keep it in.
"She said that you were hurting, I was causing your hurting," Wanda frowned. "Natasha said you needed to heal, and where we both were, I would only hinder your progress. You needed a change of scenery without me."
You don't know what to say to that.
Because it's true. 
With more time that passes, it's easier for you to admit that you being with her at the time was making things worse for you.
She wasn't in a good place when you had met her and got together. But Wanda was healing before you, and you weren't ready for that.
You relied on her too much, put Wanda on a pedestal, kept putting her before yourself. 
You were probably hindering Wanda's healing too. 
It was too hard for you to see her with Vision, even if it might've been nothing. 
"I respected your space, and I didn't check up on you," Wanda tells you, taking a cautionary step closer. "But that never changed the fact that I'm still in love with you. I'm still waiting for the right time for us to get back together."
You recoil slightly as she gets closer. You're not ready for this. You can feel every muscle in your body screaming to run. 
"Why?" You hoarsely ask, tears welling in your eyes.
"When you left, you said I had outgrown you," Wanda says, and you feel a slice across your heart at the bitter memory.
"But that's not true," Wanda shakes her head, "I had loved you when we first met, loved you when we were in the dark, and I will love you as we keep moving. It doesn't matter if we don't move at the same pace. I will love you."
They're pretty words, you feel. Because all you can remember is how she had said none of this as you were leaving. 
All you can remember is how she turned to Vision.
You don't have anything to say except you turn to bolt for the door, leaving Wanda in your place. 
You hear a call of your name, but you keep running, thankful that she doesn't follow you. 
You pull out your phone and dial.
"Hello?"
"I know it's after hours, but can you please see me right now?"
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You staring a picture above the fireplace.
"Did you want anything to drink?"
You turn your attention away from the photo, looking at David.
"Water, please," you quietly ask. 
"Sure thing," David grins as he yells down the hall for water, making you wince.
His husband, Liam, shows up looking unimpressed with David as he shoots you a wink before leaving.
You're in David's study room as he hands you the water and gestures for you to take a seat.
"Sorry for showing up like this," you apologize.
David waves it off. "It's fine. You came at a good time. Liam was kicking my ass in scrabble, he was getting too smug."
You smile lightly. It's been a while since you had seen Liam. When you had first arrived, you saw David pretty regularly and sometimes even ate dinner at their place while you were still trying to get yourself together.
"So?" David settles into his seat with his hands, clasped together. "What's got you rattled?"
"Wanda showed up."
It's quiet for a moment as David assesses what you said.
He hums.
"Why did she show up?"
"She's a client at my firm. An important one and she can't choose another firm. She didn't know I was working there," you explain as best you can since you can't tell David she's undercover. 
David nods. 
"And what happened?"
"I ran," you tell him. "I hid in a coffee shop I go to every day, where the owner asked me out on a date, knowing full well I'm not over Wanda. Then I went home, and Wanda was there waiting for me."
You speak so fast that David widens his eyes minusculely.
He doesn't say anything, so you assume you need to keep talking about what happened.
"I had a panic attack when I smelled her scent," you mutter, "I let her into my place, and she explained why she had shown up. I know she wasn't trying to ambush me."
"Alright, it sounds pretty standard. Did she leave after?"
You explain the rest of what happened to David, who seems to be taking in what happened as he sits in silence for a bit.
He hums. 
"What did you think about what she said?" He asks.
"Lies," you immediately say. "Or at least partially lies."
"Why is that?"
You sigh a little frustratedly as you lean forward in your chair. "Why didn't she say those things as we were breaking up? I told her to admit it, she had outgrown me, and she didn't say anything. Saying nothing might as well have been agreeing. Now she's here saying that she would always love me?"
"And what if it was true? That you two had outgrown each other?"
"Then there's no point," you say, "even if we land in the right place, we could always outgrow each other again."
David hums again, and you hate it when he does that.
"Just say what you're thinking," you grumble, and he smiles. 
"In my professional opinion, it's true that it can happen again. But here's the thing, love is not just a feeling. It takes work and effort. You have to choose that every day. Two years have passed, the two of you are different people. Back then, you were choosing to not move forward; Wanda was. That's where your insecurities had stemmed from when she was getting closer to Vision. Space apart might have been the best thing for you to not rely on and hinder each other. But now, you're here. Healing. Choosing."
"So, I should get back together with her?" Your brows furrow.
David laughs lightly, "No, I didn't say that. That's something you will need to decide on your own. I'm just here to help you rationalize your feelings and thoughts, suggest you do things that may help. That's why I think you should accept the date with Lucy."
"What?"
David rests his elbow on his armrest, rubbing his index finger and thumb together.
"Lucy was very clear she understood what she was getting into if you choose to go on a date with her. Seems like she's offering to show you a good time without any strings attached. You might not come across an opportunity like that again," David points out.
"If it leads to something more and you want that, you have your answer," David smiles.
You sigh shakily and nod sharply.
The end of the session comes, and David leans forward.
"Just remember, you're different than who you were two years ago. Wanda coming back doesn't change that. She's different than who she was two years ago. You don't need to idealize her. She's just another person too."
You shakily nod your head, thanking David for squeezing you in so suddenly, and say bye to Liam on your way out.
When you head home, Wanda is no longer there, but there's an address written on your notepad on the counter.
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The next few weeks pass by with a blur. Work gets so busy, you hardly have time to think about anything.
Not that it stops you from thinking about things, but it's easier. 
You see Wanda in the building occasionally, but other than a nod of acknowledgment, she doesn't speak to you. You're sure it's because you ran out the last time, and she's trying to respect your space again. 
Though, sometimes you find yourself staring at Wanda from afar. You think about what David says and how you're both different people. She does seem different.
She walks with this air of confidence that she didn't have before. She smiles more, and she doesn't look as angry and resentful as she once did. 
You find yourself self-reflecting on yourself when that happens. You can admit that you've come a long way, but you aren't quite sure you'd categorize yourself in the same place as Wanda, but you are moving forward. 
That night, you show up at the coffee shop, surprising Lucy as you come in.
You haven't seen her in weeks, you even stopped coming for morning coffees.
"And she lives," Lucy says amusedly, but you feel a little guilty for avoiding her.
You breathe, gathering your courage as you look at her.
"Would you like to go on a date with me?"
Lucy tilts her head, staring at you momentarily before she smiles, and you think she has a beautiful one. 
"I'm actually just closing up, so if you'd like to wait, we can go to this nice little ice cream shop a couple blocks from here."
You nod eagerly, happy that you hadn't botched this up. 
You two make small talk as she cleans up, catching each other up on the week. 
The walk passes quickly, and you learn things about Lucy like how she had gotten her degree in literature and was a part-time writer working on a novel. The coffee shop was her parents, but they had passed it down to her when they had retired. She's thinking about it passing it down to her little sister when her sister is old enough. 
You stare at the ice cream menu for almost 20 minutes, unsure what you want to order, but Lucy is patient and talks about her recommendations. You apologize, but she waves it off.
You end up choosing what she recommends, and you like it, but you're not surprised since Lucy seems to understand your coffee order.
The date is simple.
It's easy, you find.
Talking to Lucy is easy, and she's definitely a beautiful woman. 
Even when Lucy slowly reaches for your hand to hold, with a half-shy smile, half-smirk, you let her.
You hear your name.
You turn around to see Wanda standing there, frowning as her eyes pass over your held hand.
"Wanda," you breathe.
The way you say her name, Lucy immediately knows. 
But then you're holding Lucy's hand tighter. 
"What are you doing here?" Wanda asks, trying to play it off casually. 
"I'm..." you start to say, but the words die on your lips.
"We're on a date," Lucy answers instead, brow raised.
"Date?" Wanda says, looking at you, and you swallow.
That feeling like you're cheating on her comes, but you squash it down because you know you're not.
"Yes," you say firmly. "I'm on a date. I'll see you at work."
With that, you turn, Lucy in hand as you drag her off. 
When you're finally far enough, you sigh. 
"Sorry," you mumble, feeling awkward.
Lucy shrugs. "You handled it better than I thought you would. I thought you had swallowed your tongue for a moment."
You let out a rough chuckle as you keep walking. The two of you sit on a park bench, enjoying the weather, the ice cream, and each other. 
"You're still very much in love with her, not even close to being over her."
Lucy speaks after a moment of silence when the conversation had died. 
You look at her, surprised she would bring it up again. She didn't even say it as a posed question. She stated as a fact.
You sigh, "yeah."
"But, you want to move on?" Lucy asks.
You struggle. 
"I don't know," you answer finally.
Lucy reaches over to hold your hand again, and you look down. 
"Does this feel good?" She asks.
You lick your lips as you stare at your intertwined hands. 
"It feels easy," you admit. 
Lucy tilts her head but sighs as she pulls her hand away.
"Can I tell you something?"
You nod, unsure.
Lucy looks ahead of her. "I don't think love should be easy. Sure, that would make everything simple. I don't think love should be a constant battle either, but I think we both should get a love that's worth fighting for."
You swallow, looking away. 
Because you agree.
It's so easy with Lucy. You know that if you let yourself, you could fall in love with her. It would be easy, and you know there's a simple path ahead of you. You'd know what the next steps would be every time.
With Wanda, it's always hard. It's true, you're not always fighting her, but being with her is not a simple feat. 
But you don't know if you want that. 
Lucy turns you and kisses you on the cheek swiftly. 
"Maybe it's not with me, maybe it is. Maybe it's with your ex, maybe it's not, but there's a great love out there. For both of us. I hope I succeeded in showing you a good time."
You smile at her and nod.
"Thanks," you tell her softly, and although she's not yours, you feel like you're losing her a little. You're losing out on something wonderful, you just know it. 
You can't help but blame Wanda a little for that. 
"I expect to see you Monday morning for the best coffee ever," Lucy says she stands up, "and a big fat tip."
"I wouldn't have it any other way," you smile at her as she waves at you before leaving. 
You stay on the park bench much longer after Lucy left, sighing. 
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When work comes around Monday, you do as you promised and get coffee at Lucy's, staying the extra minute to chat before you're on your way.
Work is relatively quiet today, Wanda seems tense, and midway through the day, your boss is getting arrested in front of everyone. The executives are taken in custody for questioning, and it will be decided later on who will take over the company.
Everyone is allowed to leave for the day with that, but you decide to stay at the office longer to get work done because you get distracted too easily at home.
It's nearly 2PM when Wanda appears in front of you. 
"Hey," she says softly, and you greet her back with a soft grunt in return.
You close your laptop, wanting to take a break as you look at Wanda.
"Looks like you're done your mission. Lucky you, you get to return."
"I'm staying in the area for a little while longer while things are getting wrapped up," Wanda shakes her head.
You merely nod. 
But at least you know she won't be showing up at her workplace anymore.  You get up, going to the copier room to make some copies of your report for next week.
Wanda follows you, standing at the door and leaning against it slightly with her arm.
"Are you dating her?" She asks bluntly.
And you pause for a moment before you continue with what you're doing.
"It's none of your business," you tell her.
"If you were over me, you would just answer," Wanda answers back, and you snap your head towards her and glare. 
"Are you trying to pick a fight with me?" You grit.
Wanda shakes her head.
"I just want you to tell me if you're dating her," she stands up straighter.
"Why do you even care?" You grumble with a shake of your head.
"Of course I care, I'm in love with you," Wanda says it so��easily that it pisses you off.
You accidentally crumble the papers in your hand as you turn to her.
"Wanda," you say very slowly, trying to rein in your temper. "This is already difficult enough for me. You coming back here, even if it's was unintentional, makes this hard for me. I'm a long way from where I was but seeing you just a reminder of how broken I was. How broken we were, and how easy it was for you to move on."
"You don't think this is hard for me too?" Wanda hisses at you as she takes a step closer. 
"You don't think me losing the love of my life because of my inability to say the right things at the right time doesn't keep me up at night? I'm a long way from where I was too. I was just as lost as you were. You thought I had moved on, outgrown you, but I was just lost. You can't lie to me and say you weren't frustrated how you felt every day."
"But I didn't turn to anyone else when I felt that way!" You shout at her.
"Vision means nothing to me!" Wanda shouts back at you, throwing her hands in the air. "We just have a commonality between us, which is the stone. I was just learning about the stone."
Wanda conjures up red wisps between her fingers as if to emphasize her point. 
And even though you had known that might've been the case, it hadn't hurt any less.
"You can't deny that we're bad for each other," you shake your head. 
"I love you," Wanda throws out, and it makes you tense. "I know you're still in love with me too."
"You don't know that," you breathe. 
But Wanda walks up closer to you, she gets up in your personal space, her face hovering over yours.
"Then why do you get so affected by seeing me? Your thoughts are a mess, and why do your lips tremble when you breathe my name?"
You glare at her. 
"That doesn't mean I'm in love with you. You think I can't kiss other people? That I can't move on from you? Love outside of you exists." 
"With Lucy?" Wanda sneers her name. You don't even have to ask that Wanda got her name through reading your mind. 
"Why not her?" You challenge.
Wanda stands there, staring at you, her pupils dilating and contracting as she takes you in.
"Then, let's see you if you can run back to her after this."
And before you can say anything, Wanda's thrusting her hands against your jaw into your hair, gripping it familiarly as she slams into your lips with unadulterated passion. 
She moves her lips against yours, tilting your head as she backs you against the photocopier. 
It hits you so fast and so hard.
The feel of her lips.
Her scent invading your senses. 
She tastes like honey and chocolates, and you know she's been eating candy. 
She runs her hand through your hair. Her hand eventually reaches the back of your neck, and she holds it to keep you close to her. 
It takes the sound of her soft sigh to bring you back to reality, and you push her off you.
You furrow your brows, chest heaving from her kiss.
You look at her, and she's staring at you equally as breathless.
"You're such a fucking asshole," you tell her, shaking your head as you push past her. 
You're pissed.
How dare Wanda just...just kiss you like that!
She has no boundaries, no sense of what you're feeling. 
You gather your things, glaring at Wanda to not follow you.
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Wanda sighs.
She fucked up.
She knows she did.
Wanda makes herself some tea at the place she's posted to until she can go home. It was pretty close to the firm for obvious reasons.
She shouldn't have kissed you like that, but it was like this ugly green monster, and the fear of losing you when she saw you with Lucy overwhelmed her.
Wanda had understood what Natasha had told her. She had understood, and let you go on the hopes that the two of you would both grow and be in a better place. 
It wasn't easy for Wanda, she felt like this giant hole was created in her when you left. 
She wasn't a good girlfriend, and she had to work through that. 
Maybe it was premature, but seeing you brought up all the feelings she never left behind. 
Wanda looks outside, noticing the day had passed by quickly, and now it was dark out. She looks at the clock and sighs when it's already 11 PM, but Wanda is feeling no closer to being able to sleep. 
Wanda knew she was going to need to apologize, that was if you were even willing to talk to her. 
She wouldn't be surprised if you decided to quit the firm and moved. 
Wanda sighs, rubbing her forehead and temples with her hands. 
Knock, Knock, Knock.
Wanda turns her head to the door, brow furrowing. The knocking continues until Wanda walks up to open the door.
You push past her and walk into her home.
"You know I had a lot of time to this about this, but what the fuck is wrong you?" You immediately fire off, pacing back and forth.
"You think you can just drop back into my life, even if you didn't mean to, tell me you're still in love with me and kiss me?"
You turn around and glare at her. "Is it crack? Is that what you're smoking? Because who the fuck does that!"
"You had no right to do that, you're such an inconsiderate asshole!"
Wanda frowns, taking the yelling. Your chest is heaving with anger.
"Are you done?" She asks, and you nearly start screaming at her again.
"Did you just come here to yell at me?" Wanda raises her brow.
It's quiet for a moment as you stare at Wanda. 
"No," you finally after a moment. "I came to do this."
And suddenly, you're running towards her, jumping as you wrap your legs around her midsection as she's forced to hold you up, slamming your lips down on her. 
You kiss her wildly, and Wanda response immediately. You wrap your arms around her neck, kissing her over and over as you tangle your hand in her hair.
Moans are heard, and Wanda is walking, nearly stumbling as she both holds you up and makes her way up the stairs to her bedroom.
She throws you on the mattress.
Chest heaving, but from kissing is a much better image Wanda likes. You sit up, grabbing her hand as you remove her rings and toss them aside, making haste to unbutton her shirt.
And Wanda pulls your shirt over your head.
Her body presses yours down to the bed, hands aligning as she intertwines them.
It feels right.
Wanda is going to make sure she loves you with all her might.
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It's late into the night, and twilight will come soon. You lie there, breath coming to a steady rhythm as Wanda covers your bare chest with the blanket.
She kisses your shoulder, and you sigh in small contentment.
Under the blanket, you seek her hand out, holding it.
"I'm in love with you still," you confess and Wanda smiles.
"I know."
"But I'm also scared," you tell her, "I'm not really sure if I'm ready for more right now."
"Love is patient," Wanda answers, squeezing your hand.
"How do you know it's the right time for us?" You ask her.
Wanda shifts in the bed, throwing her other hand behind her head.
"I suspect there's no such thing as the right time," she admits, "but I do believe we're both in a better place. The feelings never left. We're both choosing to fight for our own life, choosing to fight for us."
"I don't know if broken people should get second chances," you admit. It's been a ride in therapy, but these thoughts still come.
Wanda turns to you, raising herself onto her elbow.
"Broken people get to heal," she insists firmly. "We're not always broken, and I won't lie and say there won't be cracks, but I love you no matter what. You love me, no matter what. Our cracks are a beautiful reminder that we're fighters. No matter what is revealed when we're under the light, I will fight for you. For me. For us."
You find yourself crying, and Wanda dips down to kiss you tenderly.
"Under the light, you found me."
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pandajaye · 4 years ago
Text
Todoroki Family Ties (Part 7)
Characters: Enji Todoroki, Stepmom!OC!Ivy (Ivy is black btw), Child!Shoto Todoroki, Teen!Touya Todoroki
Warnings: child missing, dangerous criminals, mention of child murder, family abandonment
Enji and Ivy searched the entire property but Shoto was no where to be found. They called the police, Officer Tsukauchi alerted AllMight and Eraserhead and they were helping find him too. Even with them here, they were careful to keep quiet about the missing child of a Pro Hero. You never know what Villains could be looking for him too. The worst part of it was, the reason they needed pro hero help was because Shoto was the least dangerous person they were searching for today. The news reported that someone dangerous was out on the run and that only made Ivy’s heart sink lower. They figured they were fine since it was a private residence and Shoto was with a nanny, but she was gone too.
“We’re working hard to find him and the missing nanny, ma’am. I hate that this happened on the same day that a criminal broke out of jail. Is there any more information that you can give us about the boy or the woman?”
Tsukauchi must have been in a lot of situations where he had to show calmness towards civilians. His soft voice gave her a sense of peace, it was small but any was good.
“I-I.... I don’t know too much about her. She seems good with the kids. We just recently hired her last week and she’s been an angel. She has a very kind attitude for an older woman with a tattoo.”
“A tattoo? What did it look like? Can you describe it for me?”
Ivy thought hard about the image that was located on the woman’s hand. Enji didn’t agree with it but Ivy convinced him that since she wa so child friendly, the tattoo shouldn’t matter.
“It was a thin black circle with a cherry blossom inside. There was an ‘X’ on the right side of the circle. It was kind of wrinkled a long with her hand but I still thought it looked pretty cool.”
One of the officers that was standing in front of her drawing the description of the tattoo nodded to Tsukauchi. When he looked back at her, she could tell there was more of a hardness to his face. He turned to Enji and Allmight who had been standing next to them to observe.
“If it’s alright, I’d like to just speak to you two alone for a minute.”
They looked at each other before taking a step into the kitchen, away from where Ivy could hear.
“I’m afraid that the nanny may be involved in the disappearance of the boy. The tattoo that Mrs. Todoroki had described matched the same image of another womanms tattoo. They’re believe to be apart of a gang of Villains called the Withered Blossoms. Any crime scene these women have been apart of usually have young men unconscious or dead but with the appearance of someone who is old. Their victims also are left with no money. Apparently they use the youth from their victims to stay alive. There’s no telling how long they’ve been on this earth but we’ve managed to mostly keep them in jail. I’m not sure what they would want Shoto for. Either his youth, or ransom, but I know that we’ll do whatever it takes get him back and those women in maximum security prison.”
Toshinori thanked Mr. Tsukauchi before turning to look at Enji. His gaze was stuck on the ground, thinking about everything that was just explained. He was never one to really show emotion when anyone other than his family was around. Though he wasn’t sure if he’d even get a response, Toshi tried his best to communicate with Enji.
“Don’t worry. We’ll find your son. Everything will be fine.”
Enji scoffed and rolled his eyes.
“Who said I was worried? I know he’ll be okay. He’s a damn Todoroki, of course he’ll be okay.”
Toshi shook his head. He could see the worry on his face. It was written in his furrowed brows. The angry wrinkles on his face. No matter how he tried to hide it, this bothered him deeply.
“It’s not bad to have feelings. Your child is out in the big world and could be in danger. It looks more suspicious not showing worry.”
Enji sighed angrily and looked at Toshi. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was speaking some sense. He didn’t know why he was such a hard ass all the time. There was just a lot of frustration and rage inside of him. The expression on his face softened but he looked away from Toshi.
“You’re right. I’m very upset. That’s.... my youngest out there. He could be scared. He could be hurt. Or.... o-or....”
“Hey. We’re not going to think like that, alright? They’re doing everything they can, looking under every rock for these villains and your son. I have no doubt that we’ll get some good news soon.”
Toshi gave him a nod of reassurance and Enji returned it. They may not get along always but he was glad to have Toshi here to comfort him and Ivy.
Especially Ivy....
This family.... Enji.... the kids.... they meant a lot to her. She was the first person in her family to be born quirkless. They hoped she would grow up and eventually gain one, but, unfortunately, it never happened. When she was in high school, she came home that day to her bags packed and thrown out of the door. They constantly hounded her for not being able to become a pro hero so that she could make them rich. Since she seemed to give no value in their eyes, she was kicked out and forced to live on her own.
After years of hard work, she graduated high school, college, got a job, and did pretty good. All on her own. She met Enji when she was fired and found a job at his agency. Apparently his assistant before her couldn’t handle his explosive temper. The difference between her and Ivy was that she could afford to quit, but Ivy was barely making it and this paycheck could change everything for her.
It was hard. There was almost constant intimidation. The atmosphere of every meeting had tension and no one was brave enough to disturb it. And it only got worse after the incident with Rei Todoroki pouring hot water over her son’s face. There were many rumors that floated around. Even when the truth about Enji putting her in a mental hospital came out, everyone said it was a cover up and that he actually murdered her. Luckily, the world continued to go around.
The agency was fine but it was obvious that Enji wasn’t. There was an aggressiveness and darkness to him that no one had ever seen before. Everyone was afraid to speak to him outside of business but Ivy figured that maybe that’s what he was missing. Someone needed to check on him and something inside of her said that it should be her. It was her character flaw. Even though she’d been through so much, she always felt as if it was her job to take care of the beasts of the world. In her mind, all they needed was love and kindness.
One day, she gathered the courage to talk to him and see how he was doing. When she opened the door to his office, the lights were off. He was just sitting in his chair but facing towards the window. That morning he walked in a nice suit but not the jacket was on the back of his chair and his tie was loosened. He was just sitting there, his head leaning against his hand like he was just done with everything.
“Hello? Mr. Endeavor?”
“What is it?
“I-I wanted to talk about something. Are you busy?”
He sighed and dropped his hand, turning to look at her and permit her to enter before turning back to the outside world.
“Come in.”
She hurried in and closed the door behind her, quietly making her way over to the front of his desk.
“I wanted to check on you.... see how you were doing lately. I’m really worried about you, sir. You haven’t burned as brightly as you used to, so I’m here if you want to talk about anything. I’m sorry if I’m bothering you in anyway, sir.”
When he didn’t respond, she walked to be in his line of sight. He looked so tired. There were bags under his eyes and a sad frown that looked as if it’s been there forever and would never leave. It broke her heart to see him so depressed. She decided to leave. He probably was being nice by not telling her to get out immediately.
“I hope your day gets better, sir...”
Ivy only took a single step before she was stopped, her small wrist in his large hand. When she looked at him, there were streaks of tears on his cheeks.
Suddenly, he pulled her to him and hugged her waist. She could feel him trembling.
“S-She’s gone.... she’s gone.... a-and it’s m-my fault-t.”
Enji’s grip on her tightened and she started to relax. He needed her in that moment and it was necessary that she was there for him.
“It’s going to be okay, sir. It’s going to be alright.”
They talked for a long time. He avoided questions about Rei but she didn’t mind. There were lots of emotions in the room. Maybe it was the sudden opportunity to be vulnerable or how she comes off as a trustworthy person, but he was quick to let her in. He admitted that this was one of the very few times that he made a connection with someone at work. He really appreciated her bravery and that she wanted to actually talk to him.
This was the beginning of their relationship. From coworkers to friends to friends to lovers. Oh how sweet it sounds. Even if it wasn’t always sweet, especially after they were married. So quickly at that. However, it was obvious that they were soulmates. The conflicts weren’t because of her, it was his toxicity. A toxicity that healed when they were together, it heals slowly, but progress is progress.
Now here they were. Enji holding Ivy as her emotions were trying to control themselves. That’s when they got the call from Toshinori. Ivy put her phone on speaker so Enji could hear too.
“We’ve found Shoto and the criminal. We’re bringing your boy home.”
A huge weight felt lifted off of the couple’s shoulders. Enji held onto Ivy as she cried into his chest. Since his hands were preoccupied with holding her, he couldn’t quickly wipe the tears out of his eyes and instead just lowered his face to kiss the top of Ivy’s head.
Shoto was back home within a few hours after an interrogation with the police. The woman had never mentioned anything about what he would be used for, she lured him with the lie that she would take him to see Rei. It made Enji and Ivy furious to find out that someone would make up such a terrible lie to kidnap a child and he vowed to find the rest of the group so they couldn’t hurt anyone else.
After dinner, and putting the kids to bed, Enji received a phone call from a number he didn’t immediately recognize and excused himself to go outside to answer it.
“We need to talk about Natsuo and Fuyumi soon. I believe it’s time that they come home.”
He recognized the voice immediately. Rei’s mother. The current guardian of his other two children.
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Text
Happiness Continues
Part 3: 8 Weeks Pregnant
Summary: Jensen and his wife get their first glimpse of their growing baby.
Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Plus Size Reader
Word Count: 2.6K+
Warnings: Language, brief descriptions of internal ultrasound, pregnancy related emotions
Author’s Note: This part is a little shorter than the others, but that doesn’t mean it won’t leave its impact on the story. Thanks again to @emoryhemsworth for giving this a once over, love you babes. As always, I love to hear what you all thought. Reactions, theories, or just plain flailing, I love it all xoxo Alex
“Brb crying,” @emoryhemsworth
Catch up with the series masterlist and then check out Alexandra’s Library for more by yours truly!
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There was absolutely nothing glamorous about being pregnant. Y/n now stood by that statement and if anyone tried to convince her otherwise, well, she might just stab them with a fork. That’s where she was at this point. Granted, she was still in her first trimester, but she was adamant about it sucking. 
First of all, the baby wouldn’t let her eat a thing. She had figured out how to control the smells quickly. They still tended to make her stomach churn, but at least she could stave off the actual vomiting. Mostly, it was anytime there was a strong scent in her general vicinity; anything distinct enough for her to detect what it was could trigger something. Unfortunately for her, that included her husband’s cologne, a scent that happened to be both of their favorites. That was awkward when he walked out of their bedroom one morning all pressed and ready to go for the day, coming to hug his wife goodbye only to have her cringe and run away to the bathroom to lose the contents of her stomach. 
For the past three weeks, though, she had been living on a diet of ginger ale, peppermint tea, and sugar-free hard candies. Her stomach would turn out just about anything else and, to be honest, its preferences for what it could handle changed daily and Y/n had given up trying. Every meal was a new adventure for her and the baby. Her hours of scouring the internet for something, anything, for her to eat were wasted. Their baby did not care for anything.
Hiding her symptoms was becoming increasingly easier, though. With it still being so early, and not having even seen a doctor yet, both her and Jensen were wary to tell anyone. Call them superstitious, but they didn’t want to jinx anything just yet. Besides, it was kind of nice basking in the news just the two of them. It reminded them of the start of their relationship, only this secret wouldn’t end in a fist to a jaw... hopefully. As far as they knew, no one was suspicious of anything in both their friends and family as well as coworkers in her office. 
Y/n stood in their bedroom, the dawn light peering in through the curtains as she examined herself in the mirror. Lately, she had been sleeping like a cat, but today her anxiety was in full force. The woman had tossed and turned all night, finally deciding to crawl out of bed and jump into the shower when the sun first made its appearance over the horizon. It was no use trying to sleep anymore. 
As she stood there, turned to one side, she ran a hand over her lower abdomen. If she cocked her head just right, she could have sworn she noticed the start of what would ultimately be a massive balloon in the middle of her stomach. Though, to be fair, she could also be imagining it. The mind sees what it wants to, right?
The sound of the sheets ruffling had her snapping her head around to her husband who still lay in bed. He stretched out his long limbs, the longer locks on the top of his head mussed from his night’s sleep. He blinked a few times as he woke, quick to take in the looming figure of his wife at the foot of the bed. A smirk graced his features as his eyes traveled up her bare legs, noticing all she had on was a pair of panties. 
“Mmm, I’ll take this wake up call any day.” His voice was husky with sleep. His wife rolled her eyes but climbed up on the bed anyway, crawling into his waiting arms and laying against his bare chest. 
Y/n sighed as she nuzzled into him, “I can barely go ten minutes without being either exhausted or needing to vomit, so unless you have some sort of The Exorcist fetish I don’t know about, then I’m gonna have to decline.” 
“Ugh, god,” Jensen scrunched up his nose, pushing his wife away from him as he climbed from the bed. She laughed, chasing after him into their master bathroom. Y/n slipped her arms around his waist, pulling his back against her bare chest and placing a kiss between his shoulder blades. The pressure against her sore breasts was uncomfortable right now, but not unbearable. This one was her new least favorite symptom of pregnancy. 
“You nervous about today?” He whispered, grabbing her hands with his own and threading their fingers together. 
Y/n let out a huff of air, the action sending goosebumps across Jensen’s skin. Of course, he had picked up on her anxiety. “Yeah, and excited. I don’t know this kind of makes it all real, you know?” 
“I do.” He pulled her hand up and kissed the back of her knuckles before releasing her. He turned around in her arms to lean in and press his lips against hers. Y/n leaned into her husband, taking full advantage of having him close to her. 
Jensen pulled away, running his tongue over the swell of his lower lip and cocking his head. “Why do you taste like a bag of Warheads?” 
“Oh, I woke up to my stomach rolling and the only thing I had within reach was the sour candies I bought last week. It actually helped a lot.” Y/n smiled sheepishly. If she thought about it long enough, she had eaten plenty of those candies to quell her stomach enough before she could even sit up in bed so it shouldn’t be surprising her husband could still taste them on her. 
“I’m not gonna lie, I kind of like it.” He flashed her a grin that was all teeth before lunging to kiss her again. His wife laughed, shaking her head at all the boyish charm she had fallen in love with shining through so early in the morning. “Alright, I need to shower. Go, make yourself some tea, and try to eat something real for me.” 
Y/n scrunched up her nose as he smiled at her. She didn’t want to eat, her already flimsy stomach on overdrive today, but for her husband, she would try, muttering an exaggerated ‘all right’ as he started the shower. The woman trudged her way back out to the bedroom, finishing getting dressed for the day in her comfiest sweats, before retreating to the kitchen to make herself some tea and buttered toast. It had been a week since she had tried toast, not willing to touch the stuff after the incident, so she hoped it was a safe bet. 
As the kettle came to a boil and the toaster did its magic, Y/n looked out the large window onto their courtyard. The rising sun was casting elegant patterns against the white stucco of their house and dancing along the surface of the pool. 
Y/n had scheduled the first appointment of the day with her doctor because she knew that she would be up early anyway. They still had time before they needed to leave their house, which Jensen would use to his advantage, taking extra time in the shower and getting dressed. Y/n on the other hand had already done that, so now she was trying to figure out something to occupy her mind until her husband made an appearance in the kitchen. When it seemed her breakfast was not going to make a reappearance, at least for now, she decided to put on some coffee for him and started the pan to make him an omelet. 
Y/n was slipping the eggs onto a plate when Jensen made his appearance in the kitchen. 
“You didn’t have to make me breakfast, I know how your stomach has been.” Jensen came up to her side and put his hand on the small of her back. 
“I’m surprisingly okay this morning. Must be some sort of anxiety override.” She laughed as he kissed her cheek. Y/n grabbed him a fork as he turned to pour himself a cup of coffee. She slid the plate across the island as he sat down across from her. 
“I was thinking,” Y/n spoke up from behind her mug of tea, “I mean, I know it’s still far too early, but I don’t want to find out the sex.” 
“No?” Jensen quirked a brow at her, his mouth full of his breakfast, muffling the word on his tongue. 
“There are few mysteries left in this world most days, and I just think this is one that would be exciting.” 
“That’s fine with me.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, you aren’t wrong. Who cares about our baby’s genitals anyway?”
Y/n pursed her lips and bit back the emotion already bubbling up in her, instead, allowing herself to feel excited for now, “Then it’s settled.” 
Jensen looked up at her then, a smile cracking on his face. He shook his head at the giddiness over taking his wife. With everything that she had been through lately, it was refreshing to see her truly smile again. He had missed that smile. 
Jensen cleaned up the mess from her making his breakfast and the two were out the door to the doctor. The office was located in St. David’s North Austin Medical Center, over thirty minutes northeast of their home, depending on traffic. Y/n had been seeing Dr. Garcia as her gynecologist for years now, and she loved the woman and the attention she paid her patients. 
The couple made their way inside the familiar building, checking in at the desk and waiting in the lobby for them to be called back. When the nurse came from them, she took Y/n’s weight, vitals, and asked the usual questions before giving her a cup for a urine sample. Once Y/n returned from the bathroom the nurse instructed her to get undressed from the waist down and cover herself with the provided blanket. 
The room was silent as they waited for the doctor, neither of them quite sure what to say at the moment. There were too many questions that could only be answered by the doctor. Y/n had her eyes trained on the machine to her left when a knock came from the door before it opened. Jensen squeezed her hand as Dr. Garcia came in, a smile on her face. 
“Y/n, it has been a while since I’ve seen you in here,” She noted as she pulled up her chart on the computer. 
“Uh, yeah, that’s kind of why we are here now.” Y/n admitted, a sheepish smile on her face. 
“Well, the urine sample you provided us confirms pregnancy.” Dr. Garcia continued to examine her chart, hitting some buttons in silence. “Looks based on the information provided, you are about eight weeks along now, which will give us an expected due date of February twenty-third, all of which I will confirm after an ultrasound. Tell me a little bit about how you are feeling.” 
Y/n went into detail about her symptoms the past few weeks and the doctor gave her basic information on necessary diet changes as well as a prescription for a prenatal vitamin. She also handed over pamphlets to get the couple started.
“I’m going to do a vaginal ultrasound since the fetus is still small, take a few pictures, listen to the heartbeat, and then we will get you guys out here.” Y/n nodded, laying back on the exam table as the doctor pulled up the ultrasound machine and pulled up the footrest. She helped Y/n put her feet up in position. 
“You’ll feel pressure,” Dr. Garcia talked Y/n through what she was doing, though it didn’t make the action any less uncomfortable. Jensen moved to stand near her head, never letting go of his grip on her hand. Both of them watched the screen with bated breath as the doctor searched for what was growing inside her. “Ah, there we go,” 
A black spot made its way onto the otherwise white screen, in the center a small white bean-shaped figure. “That’s it?” Jensen asked, leaning in for a closer look. 
“That’s it, and the little blip in the center there is its heartbeat.” Dr. Garcia pointed on the screen before taking a snapshot and starting her measurements. She hit a few more buttons and the rhythmic whoosh of the baby’s heart could be heard like a siren in the small room. 
Jensen let out a small huff of air before he brushed away the hairs on Y/n’s forehead and placed a kiss there, his lips lingering for a second against her skin. There was no point in trying to hold back the tears anymore. The longer she stared at the screen, the more the realization of the fact that she had a tiny human growing inside of her began to take hold in her brain. Sure, she had known for a few weeks now, but not being able to see it on her body, finally having visual and audio proof had broken the dam in her head. 
“I’ll print this picture and be right back. You can get dressed now.” Dr. Garcia smiled at the equally teary-eyed couple. Y/n finally broke her gaze from the computer to look up at her husband, her hand coming up to cup his jaw. 
“Oh, Jay,” She sighed as she wiped away the tear that had fallen down his cheek with her thumb. 
“I can’t believe this is really happening,” He breathed out, staring at his beautiful wife below him. There had been nights he dreamed about starting a family, the woman always a blurry figure in his mind. Now, with the actual woman staring back at him, he felt like his chest might explode. He loved her more than his own life, and he didn’t think it was possible to love a person more, but seeing this ultrasound had changed all that. There was enough room in his heart for someone else, and that was his child. 
****
Jensen dropped Y/n off at home before meeting Steve at the studio to work on their second album. His wife wanted to take a nap after not having gotten much sleep the night before, and he was more than happy to oblige her. If he was being honest, he would do anything for her right now as he continued to ride the high from their doctor’s appointment. 
Y/n curled up on the couch with the television playing a soft jazz radio station and she fell asleep with ease. Most days, it felt like she slept better anywhere but her bed if her husband was not curled up next to her. The large king-sized mattress just felt too empty without him.
She woke up a few hours later, the sun now low in the sky. Y/n checked the time before cursing to herself and jumping out of the warm blanket she was curled up in. The trash would be coming their way soon, and in the excitement of the morning, she had forgotten to put it out. Slipping on a pair of sandals, she headed to the garage to grab the cans and drag them down the driveway. She pulled them to the end of the drive, making sure they would not be in her husband’s way when he returned. 
Y/n pushed the recycling can to the side and something caught her eye. She squatted down, taking in the handful of used cigarette butts that were just barely visible against the stone of their driveway. A frown pursed her lips and she brushed the trash into the street before returning inside to find something to make for dinner.
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Part 4: 12 Weeks Pregnant 
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Forevers: @22sarah08 @akshi8278 @anathewierdo @atc74 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @callmekda @dawnie1988 @deanwanddamons @ellewritesfix05 @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @janicho88 @jensengirl83 @katehuntington @lyarr24 @malfoysqueen14 @mrsjenniferwinchester @msmarvelouswinchester @polina-93 @sleepylunarwolf @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @smol-and-grumpy @superfanficnatural @supraveng @talesmaniac89 @tranquility-or-chaos @waywardbeanie @winchest09 
Happiness Continues: @ashleyrose0117 @austin-winchester67 @deanmonandnegansbitch @deans-baby-momma @death-unbecomes-you @dvnmbabe @harryhook-lover @hoboal87 @itsdesiree86​ @let-me-luve-you @lunarmoon8 @onethirstyunicorn @parinarain @rebelemilu @smoothdogsgirl @spnfamily-j2 @stoneyggirl @squirrelnotsam @traceyaudette @winqhster @zpandaqueen
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obsidianfr3sk · 4 years ago
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through the aching shell
Hello!!! After a practically two months without posting anything (not because I was feeling down or anything, school was just making me go crazy), I finally finished the thrid part of the shell series I’m writing with my mother and dear friend Dawn ( @honey-hippie-harper​), where we explore the angsty and depressing parts of Hugh and Simon’s relationship, because we’re crazy and we like to make it everyone’s problem. 
The last two parts (which you can find here and here, and should read in that order for you to understand this one) were from Simon’s POV, but this time I decided to take some creative liberties and write it from Hugh’s POV, since this is basically my own birthday present (yeah, people, I’m 18 years old now, I’m so grown up *emoji with cool glasses*) and I have a permit to do whatever I want (? so I decided to write about Adrian starting his criminal life (?), the Council fighting like my mental ilnesses do at 2AM, and how Georgie’s death affected her loved ones, but especially Hugh, since, like Dawn said, we firmly believe they were best friends and he didn’t grieve her in a healthy way:’) 
This ended up being... a lot longer than I expected (literally 67 word pages). And also a lot more depressing. I want to give a pretty important trigger warning for suicidal ideation, especially for the last scenes. Please, if you read, proceed with caution and take care of yourself. 
On other important news (?), I didn’t feel like killing people today, so I took this canon divergence post my moms did of how Callum and Winston survived the arena, and decided they were going to survive. I don’t think it’s super obvious because of how I wrote the scene, but I just wanted to let you know, so you can be happy with me about it. 
And what else? Well, I think that’s it:’) thank, Dawnie, for letting me continue this, I feel honored you let me form part of it skldhfjksdjhskd and I’m tagging @healing-winston-pratt and @the-wee-woo-girl in this, because I know you really like the shell series and want to know what happens next! Thanks to you too for your nice comments, I love you so much, my friends <3 and I hope you love this part too as much as I love writing it.
It wasn't until several minutes passed after he heard Simon going upstairs that Hugh realized he had been sitting on the ground during all this time.
He held onto the kitchen counter and stood up with difficulty. As soon as he saw his own hand, he noticed it had small silver drops all over it, and they reminded him of the coffee sometimes they accidentally spilled when they grabbed their respective cups before heading out of the house.
They also reminded him of blood.
In fact, they were awfully similar to blood.
He passed his sleeve over it to clean it. Not only did that refuse to work, but now he also had a gray stain on his uniform
Fuck.
But before he could come up with something to do about it, Simon started walking downstairs, slower and clumsier than before, while struggling with some heavy object. He stayed completely still for a couple of seconds, deliberating about what he was supposed to do.
Should he go to see what was going on?
Should he go help him?
Should he go and ask him to stay for the last time?
He was fast enough to turn his back on Simon when he showed up on the kitchen door hiding the trail of chrome he had left with his body
During the ten seconds Simon stayed there, staring at him, Hugh kept his eyes on his hands, flatly refusing to look back at him because if he did, he would meet her eyes too.
And he wasn't willing to go through that again in front of Simon.
In front of anyone, really.
He should have never allowed his emotions to come out in such a grotesque and explosive way. He thought he had learned to keep his anger, but the last time he had snapped like that was as recent as Genissa's Clark threat, after he couldn't stand how the rest of the Renegades were looking at the Council—
How they were looking at him.
It had been a slip. A pretty serious slip and that should not have happened again. Much less in the magnitude with which it had just happened a few moments ago, with Simon.
Simon.
Of all people, it had been Simon.
The man who irradiated the the most powerful beam of kindness without even saying a single word. The one who was able to talk people out of their evil ways because he was convinced goodness was a crucial part of human nature and no one was beyond repair. The person he thought about each time the fire of his anger started to emerge in his throat, and whose smile, eyes, and voice were enough for Hugh to be able to control him.
But today it hadn’t.
It hadn't been enough.
Simon hadn't been able to make it better.
The fire had gotten out of his control, and now, there was nothing left but ashes.
Ashes of anger that now was reduced to shame.
When Hugh turned around, Simon was closing the door on his way out.
***
He stayed leaning against the kitchen bar for a good four hours before he received the first message asking him where he was.
It was from Tamaya.
She said they needed to talk.
About what? She didn’t specify. But it was probably about how they left her alone for hours when it was supposed to be just during their lunch break.
While he texted her he would be there in a minute, he couldn’t help but look at his sleeves, and immediately knew, he couldn’t go there wearing those clothes, so he went through the small closet where they kept their clean superhero suits in case they needed to change after a mission or something. When he opened the closet and realized it was empty, he remembered Simon had taken them to the Headquarters, because he thought it was better to keep them there, since it was where they were most of the time.
Hugh clenched his fists and, before he could make a hole through the wall or something, he sighed and decided to take a shower first.
Tamaya would be fine if he disappeared a couple of hours more.
Maybe Tamaya could bring him one…
But Tamaya was in charge of the Headquarters, so she was pretty busy at the moment. Evander would take hours to get there and ask for explanations he didn’t want to give him, and… to be honest, he wasn’t quite sure if he was in the right state of mind to ask Kasumi to do him a favor.
“If Adrian wants to see me—”
Then, he remembered Adrian.
He was still at the hospital with Max. And if his mental clock was correct, he needed to be with his team in exactly an hour so they could start patrolling.
After showering, he put on some civilian clothes and grabbed the keys he had left on the entrance table.
Simon’s keys weren’t there though.
He had taken his own car.
***
Adrian wasn’t at the waiting room like he had said he would, but that didn’t surprise Hugh. No, what actually surprised him was how empty the whole hospital looked. No nurse was attending the front desk, and the few doctors he could see were either running to get to the next patient or whispering something to their coworkers. When he started wandering through the hospital, looking for a familiar face he recognized from the ones who were involved in Max’s case to ask them if he had seen Adrian (and if he could pay a quick visit to Max to kiss him goodnight because he probably wouldn’t be able to go to the hospital again before his bedtime), he noticed a group of nurses consoling a crying one a couple of meters from there.
He didn’t recognize her from anywhere, so he didn’t even bother to ask her anything.
Also… what the hell, he could pay a quick visit to Max without asking for their permission first. He was Captain Chromium, even if he wasn’t wearing his uniform at that moment, but most importantly, he was Max’s dad. He wasn’t going to stay there and wait for them to get their shit together and start doing their job.
After taking the elevator to get to the floor where Max’s room was, he noticed two doctors standing right beside the door, arguing in a low voice. They didn’t even realize Hugh was there until he was right in front of them, about to ask them if they could move to let him enter the room.
One of them interrupted what the other was saying and immediately tried to stop Hugh.
“I’m sorry, sir, you cannot be here, it’s a quarantine—” when she made contact with him, she and the other doctor’s expressions changed completely.
He had seen the same face a thousand times after people realized who they were talking to.
In other circumstances, he would have tried to be nice about it, but at that moment, he didn’t have any energy left to tell them about his intentions.
He needed to kiss Max goodnight. And then, he needed to look for Adrian.
So when he carefully pushed them aside and walked into the room, he didn’t feel any guilt for acting like that.
What he did feel, was his blood freezing the instant his eyes laid on Max’s bed and saw it was completely empty.
The small smile he had just put on his face to greet his kid immediately disappeared.
“Where—”
“Your sons have left this hospital, Mr. Everhart,” the doctor blurted out. “Together.”
But that wasn’t what Hugh was going to ask.
“Doctor— Where’s my husband?”
I need to see my husband.
***
According to what the doctors told him while they took him to one of their offices, Adrian and Max had escaped the hospital forty minutes before Hugh arrived. They knew it had been that way since one of the nurses saw them and tried to stop them, but they somehow made her faint for a couple of minutes, and when she was able to turn on the alarm, they were already gone. The doctors who were in Max’s room when he arrived were the ones who found the note Adrian had left, a note where he assured Max was fine, with his brother, and that the Renegades had nothing to worry about.
But Hugh was worried. He was so worried he couldn’t even yell at the staff for being so negligent and letting a teenager and a kid— two kids, go under their noses. He was so worried, that when Simon barged into the office, also wearing his civilian clothes, he didn’t run to hug him like he had been craving all that time he had to sit down and think about the horrible things that may be happening to his sons in those instants, while he heard the doctors doing their absolute best not to look like complete idiots in front of him and failing miserably; instead, he stayed quiet and let him ask all the questions he wanted to ask, doing his best not to look at him, not even out of the corner of his eye.
The last straw for him was when, by accident, the crying nurse (who apparently worked in the maternity ward) entered, and broke again as soon as she saw them, assuring them that she would never let them get to the roof if she had known their true intentions.
He heard roof and he heard intentions. And he immediately came to the realization, that even though the doctors had told him the whole staff was looking for them everywhere, no one told him if they had already looked for them...
If they had already looked for them outside the building.
After murmuring some words to the nurse, Simon got out of there, running like a crazy man through the hospital, being followed by the two doctors, trying to stop him, so he wouldn’t make a scene in front of the other patients.
And Hugh, who immediately felt uncomfortable as soon as they left him alone with the sobbing woman, stood up and followed the sounds of the doctors' pleas.
He knew where Simon was going.
When he got there, Simon was leaning over the roof, while the doctors stayed under the door frame, with mortified faces.
Seconds later (which felt like hours), he stumbled back from the edge of the roof and sat down on the floor, sighing with relief.
It was more than enough for him to feel able to breathe normally again.
“Mr. Everhart—” the doctor said. “I think you should call your son.”
He agreed and let him know with a nod of his head. Then, he asked something about if they wanted to go to the office again, but Simon answered before him and told the doctor it was fine. Then, his co-worker grabbed him by the arm and told them they were going to give them their space. That time, none of them answered her. So they left without saying anything else.
It wasn’t like it mattered to him anyway. At that moment, the only one he wanted to hear was Simon’s voice.
Simon’s voice yelling at him. Crying. Cursing. It didn’t matter in what tone he was talking as long as he was able to hear him say his name.
Say something.
Anything.
Simon kept his head low but pointed at Hugh’s bracelet.
Call Adrian.
The bracelet rang on the other side of the line, and the more it did, and the more silent Simon stayed, the more Hugh’s worry started to vanish.
The wind took away the ashes of his anger, and let the fire start again.
As soon as Adrian picked up, he put him on speaker.
But he didn’t let him talk.
“Where is he?” he barked through the phone. “Adrian, what have you done?”
Simon slowly stood up, stumbling a little, and Adrian clicked his tongue. “So… you got the note?”
Oh, my—
“Yes, we got the note!” he yelled. “What’s going on? Where’s Max?”
“He’s somewhere safe,” Adrian responded immediately. “Trust me.”
He almost snorted. “Trust you? What does that even—”
Suddenly, Simon grabbed him by the arm and brought the bracelet closer to his face. “Adrian, we do trust you.” And he quickly added: “And we trust Max.”
Trust.
“But this is serious,” Simon continued. “We need to know where he is. You of all people should understand how dangerous it is for him to be alone out in the world.”
“He is not alone,” Adrian argued. “No other prodigies will be at risk, and he’s comfortable and secure, maybe even happy, which is more than we could ever say about putting him back in that quarantine.”
Simon opened his mouth but he couldn’t find any words to say. His grip started to get loose little by little until he let him go completely.
He couldn’t take his eyes away from Simon’s hands.
He wanted to hold them so bad.
“How did you even manage to get him out of the hospital?” Hugh asked Adrian. “Did you find the Vitality Charm?”
“No, Dad. But I— I borrowed one of the hazmat suits from HQ and put Max into it,” he explained. “The barrier protected me from his powers long enough to get him to where we needed to go.”
That was enough for Simon to come back to reality. Just that this time, he just got closer to the bracelet; he didn’t touch him at all. “A hazmat suit? And no one noticed a ten-year-old kid wandering down the corridors in a hazmat suit?” just after saying that sentence, he subtly gasped and groaned. “Invisibility. Right. You know, I forget that he has that one, too.”
For a second, Hugh thought he was talking to him. But when Adrian answered, he knew Simon was not. “You did give it to him, so technically, it’s kind of like you helped him escape.”
“Don’t get smart,” he snapped. “And he didn’t need to escape. He’s not a prisoner!”
“Wasn’t he?”
He didn’t wait for them to answer him. It was a rhetorical question.
Not like Hugh knew how he would answer that question.
“Look, I know you guys love him,” Adrian continued, “but I’m not letting you put him back in that quarantine, end of story. For now, he’s safe where he is until we find a more permanent solution.”
Simon turned away, covering his mouth with his hand, and looking at the sky.
Adrian— Adrian didn’t sound like his usual self.  In fact, if he wanted to be completely honest with himself, the way his son was behaving reminded him a lot of a younger Adrian, who was just a little bit older than Max, entering into what would soon become his teen years, and liked to think all his parents did was making his life a living hell. Like when he asked Hugh to let him go to that Renegades Camp that was supposed to be only for the kids who were living in orphanages funded by the Council, or when he wanted Simon to get him a couple of new sneakers; in both situations, he received no for an answer, and proceeded to make a huge deal out of it, asking them why were they always trying to isolate him from other kids, or if they were poor again and would have to share a piece of bread between the three of them, like when they lived at Simon’s house.
Both of those situations were tantrums that Hugh could let slide. He let Adrian go to the camp that year (after a lot of consideration) and bought him the sneakers he wanted as his birthday present, even getting a little mad at Simon for not getting them when Adrian asked him to since it wasn’t like they didn’t have the money or something.
Even he could understand those situations were… things all kids went through at that age. It was a phase that Adrian outgrew.  
But that— that was not a phase.
That was not even a tantrum.
It was reckless and stupid, and dangerous.
And he was putting Max in danger. He was making Simon as worried as he had never seen him worried before.
And it was something Hugh could not let slide.
Not this time.
“No, Adrian,” Hugh said, “you are going to tell us where he is right this minute, so we can get him back to the hospital and make sure—”
But Adrian knew how to play that game too.
“We’ll talk about it later,” he interrupted. “For now, I’m late for a team meeting. Okay, guys? Love you, bye!”
And he hanged up.
And he didn't give them a chance to tell him they love him too.
But even if he had, Hugh knew he wouldn't say it back.
Just like that morning when they visited Nova at Cragmoor.
Before Hugh could even move, Simon left the roof, leaving him alone with those words echoing inside his head.
Trust me.
Hugh remembered he had trusted her. And, in a way, she had trusted him too.
And that was when everything started going downhill.
***
There was nothing Hugh could do at the hospital anymore. He encountered the doctors that had been informing them about the whole situation, and when he started telling them everything was fine and that they were able to locate their kids, they told them Mr. Westwood had already been there and notified them. They also promised everyone in the hospital was going to keep Max’s condition a secret and assure him no information was going to be leaked to the media to keep him safe. Hugh thanked them, but honestly, it was the least they could do.
When he went to the hospital’s parking lot, he looked for Simon’s car. Since he didn’t find it, he assumed he had gone to Kasumi’s house.
Hugh was going to return to Headquarters. To distract himself.
He entered through one of the back doors, so no one from the patrol units or the janitorial team saw him in his civilian clothes. He was lucky not to walk into someone while going through the corridors, but he didn’t feel safe until he entered his office and closed the door behind him.
And that feeling lasted… five seconds.
Because when he turned on the lights, Tamaya was sitting on top of his desk, with her legs crossed and drumming her fingers against the dark wood.
“Shit, Tamaya, why are you in my office?” he asked her with a hand on his chest.
She didn’t seem a little ashamed when she heard him scream. She didn’t even flinch.
“Shit, Hugh, why are you not in your office?” she asked him back.
She knew he didn’t like when people copied his exact words.
“Get off my desk,” he ordered her while walking towards it and sitting in his swivel leather chair. “You look super creepy waiting for me in the dark. Next time send a text”
Tamaya acted like she didn’t hear him. “I did,” she growled. “I did and you told me you were going to be here in a matter of minutes. What the hell happened there? What the hell was so important it made you think it was appropriate to leave me hanging here?”
Hugh opened one of the drawers (the bigger one) and found his uniform inside a plastic bag. It had a purple sticky note, and in permanent black sharpie, Simon had written his name with his wonderful, horrible calligraphy and drawn small hearts around it.
Hugh turned it into a small ball and threw it in the trash.
“Evander was here,” he reminded her as if she didn’t already know it. “I didn’t leave you hanging.”
“Evander doesn’t count. He’s asleep right now, actually.”
In Headquarters, they had a couple of rooms filled with beds, in case the patrol units needed to rest after a particularly long shift or wanted to take a nap before patrolling. For some reason, Evander liked to rest there, and if no one else was there, he even locked the door so no one was able to come in. Hugh thought it was very selfish of him to do that, but Evander assured him it was actually pretty comfortable (as if that was the problem he had with it) and Simon always told Hugh to let it go since it was something Evander only did after he finished his shift or was about to be up all night, just like the patrol units.
But he wasn’t going to let it go now. He decided that after putting on his uniform, he was going to kick the door down, grab him by the ankles, and throw him out of the bed.
Hugh closed the drawer. “Hey, I’m going to change my clothes, so—”
His lips sealed just as Tamaya put a hand on his shoulder.
Not like “I’m with you”.
More like…
“Move and I’m going to kick your ass.”
Hugh didn’t want to get his ass kicked that day.
“Answer. My. Question.” And she said it again. “What the fuck was so important it made you think it was appropriate to leave me hanging here?”
He tried to think of an excuse not to tell Tamaya the truth.
But, honestly, there wasn’t one. She was going to know all about it sooner or later.
“Max disappeared from the hospital.”
Tamaya let go of his shoulder and gasped. “What?—”
“Don’t worry,” he quickly added, “he’s fine, Adrian took him. Can I change now?” She sighed and then, she nodded. “Thanks. Hold the fort.”
Tamaya walked to the door and locked it, just to make sure no one was going to enter and see Captain Chromium, their boss, just wearing his underwear and trying to get into those tight leggings everyone had told him looked ridiculous since the moment he turned them into a crucial part of his superhero gear (and personality), but he kept wearing and will keep wearing until the day he died.
Hugh was going to hold on to that small piece of dignity he had left as if his life depended on it, because, maybe, just maybe, it kind of did.
So… one way to do it, was to make sure no one entered while he changed his clothes.
Tamaya could stay though. It would be stupid to put on an act of false modesty when Tamaya had seen all of them naked at some point in their lifes. However, the main difference between her and Evander, who had also seen everyone naked, was that Tamaya just remained quiet and closed the door almost as soon as she had opened it, while Evander started screaming so loud, that if they had had neighbors, they would have heard him say he had seen boobies (or a pee-pee, depending on the case) (he also hated the word pee pee thanks to that.)
Tamaya, respectful as she was, kept her eyes fixated on the ceiling. “So that’s why you were dressed up like that,” she mumbled. “I wouldn't change my clothes if my son went missing, either.”
That hadn’t exactly been the line of events, but what Tamaya didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. “How dare you. I have an incredibly good sense of fashion.”
Hugh was wearing a t-shirt, a hoodie, and ratty jeans.
In his defense, he hadn't done laundry that week.
That wasn’t a great defense, but still.
“Yeah, sure,” she scoffed. “When you entered, I thought you were an intruder and was about to get all defensive and shit.”
“Well, you’re not the only one—” he put his civilian clothes in the plastic bag “—When I went to the hospital, no one really recognized me at first either.”
Tamaya slightly smiled and then crossed her arms against her chest. “What do you mean Adrian took him?” she asked.
He stopped what he was doing for a couple of seconds. “I mean that,” he finally said. “He took him. Adrian got Max out of the hospital, took him somewhere else, and refused to tell us where he is.”
“And where’s Adrian now?”
“Patrolling with his team.”
Patrolling with his team.
As if he hadn’t kidnapped his brother and put in danger dozens of prodigies in the process.
As if he hadn’t worried them as if he had done before, because apparently, he was still too young and immature to comprehend that Max’s situation was something neither of them wished for, but at the same time, was a lot more complicated than he thought it was.
As if nothing had happened.
Tamaya stayed in complete silence until he sat down and remembered, he didn’t bring the boots that he wore with the superhero suit.
Great.
Those shoes didn’t even match the leggings.
“And what did you tell him?”
“Nothing. He didn’t give me the chance.”
Maybe if he stayed behind his desk until he finished his responsibilities of the day, no one would notice. And he could always exit through the backdoor.
“That kid. He wasn’t like that— Adrian had never done something like this before. I’m— I’m honestly shocked by his behavior.”
“You tell me.”
But he didn’t want to. Yet. He didn’t want to go to his house.
Not like that.
Not alone.
“What are you going to tell Adrian?”
And Adrian.
Alone, and with Adrian.
“What am I going to tell him?”
Tamaya nodded, and a wave of possible answers flooded his head.
Adrian, you’re in big trouble.
Adrian, you’re grounded for the rest of your life.
Adrian, please tell me where Max is, I’m begging you.
Adrian, grow up.
Adrian, your dad is not coming back for a very long time.
Adrian.
Adrian.
Your mom—
“Nothing.”
Because there is nothing that could be said.
Tamaya raised her eyebrows. “Nothing?” she doubtfully asked.
“Nothing.”
“You can’t say nothing to him,” she objected, incredulous. “That’s just not healthy.”
Hugh pretended he was going through the pages of a document someone had left for him on his desk. As if he could read those tiny letters without his glasses.
As if he couldn’t go years without talking to people.
Or about them.
“Hugh. Hugh, are you lis—”
“What did you want to talk about?”
“Huh?”
When he realized he was rolling his eyes, it was too late to stop. He just kept talking and hoped Tamaya didn’t gouge them out. “You told me before you needed to talk to me,” he explained.
“No, I said we needed to talk,” she corrected him pointing at him with a finger. She was wearing black nail polish.
You see? You remember perfectly.
“Well, in case you were wondering—” he opened the document and started reading it “—I’m listening. What’s the situation?”
Tamaya didn’t have time to react to his words. If she was going to scream, start talking about what she (she, because Hugh didn’t want to), or genuinely gouge his eyes out, no one, probably not even Tamaya herself, would ever know.
A loud banging, stifled voices, and a very familiar yell interrupted them all of the sudden.
“DAD!”
Hugh grasped tightly the pages of the document, while Tamaya grunted loudly and opened the door, her wings extended and bristly.
“WHAT?!”
The loud banging and stifled voices went silent. But the familiar yell didn’t fear Tamaya.
Because he was that reckless.
“Dad.”
Tamaya’s wings relaxed and she moved aside, letting Hugh see Adrian, still in his Renegade uniform, a little bit sweaty and dirty, like every time he came back from patrol. His team was sweaty and dirty too, but none of them had the same expression Adrian’s face had.
He seemed weird. Different.
He would dare to say he looked hopeful.
And the moments where they just stayed staring at each other, probably waiting for the other to make the first move, Hugh couldn’t figure out the reason why.  
***
Innocent.
She was innocent.
According to the Renegades, Nova Jean McLain was innocent.
They came to that resolution an hour and a half later.
When Adrian first told him Nova was innocent, he couldn’t understand what he was talking about, but Tamaya took control of the situation and immediately told Hugh to wake Evander up at the same time she told Adrian’s team to follow her.
Hugh didn’t kick the door down, but he did grab him by the ankles and made him wake up screaming.
Evander walked beside him, wearing a Blacklight t-shirt people sold at Cosmopolis Park and asking him questions about what was going on, but Hugh insisted he waited until the rest of them arrived because it was a delicate situation.
Extremely delicate.
So delicate, Hugh thought it would break like a roof made of glass and the sharp pieces would rain all over their heads, cutting their bodies like a piece of rotten fruit.
At the meeting room, Tamaya was talking to Kasumi over the phone they kept there in case of an emergency, and Adrian was gathered with his team. He was the only one who had bothered to pretend that he wasn’t worried at all because Oscar Silva and Ruby Tucker couldn’t stop throwing glances at each other, and Danna Bell shook her head every once in a while, saying something that sounded like “You’re making a mistake. You all are making a mistake.”
Oddly enough, he hoped she was right. He hoped Adrian and everyone who believed him was just making a mistake, so things wouldn’t get more complicated than they already were.
That was not going to look good for them.
Kasumi and Simon arrived ten minutes after Tamaya hung up the phone. Neither of them were wearing their uniforms or bothering to look at Hugh. Actually, Kasumi walked directly towards Tamaya to apparently ask her something (and Evander followed her because he was Evander), while Simon immediately went over Adrian, turned around the spinning chair he was sitting on, and hugged him, without caring a single bit about embarrassing in front of his team.
Adrian hugged him back. But then, he pulled him away to tell him he knew for a fact Nightmare was not Nova, but instead, Narcissa Cronin, Gene Cronin’s granddaughter.
Simon remained calm, and rubbing Adrian’s arms, told him that was a pretty serious accusation.
“But tell us all about it.”
And Adrian did. He and his team told them all about it.
Mostly him though.
He told them about them encountering Narcissa Cronin and that she explained her evil plans to them, in extreme detail. She planted evidence to make Nova seem guilty because, after the parade, she wanted to get the Renegades off her back, and Nova was the perfect person to incriminate for her crimes. She considered it her revenge against the Renegades for not doing anything when Ingrid Thompson shot the only family she had left, but after hearing a rumor of her execution, she realized she didn’t want Nova to die in the hands of the Renegades.
Not because she cared about her. She just had principles.
Or those were the words Adrian used, that made him question himself if he wanted to see her dead.
Because even when he gave Frostbite— or, Genissa Clark, permission to be the one to execute her, he still didn’t know if he did because he was sure it was the right thing…
Or because he was scared.
Which still— didn’t answer his question.  
Do you really want to see Nova McLain dead?
He wasn’t sure about it.
Tamaya, on the other hand, was.
She didn’t want to see Nova McLain dead.
And apparently, neither did Kasumi and Simon, because as soon as Adrian finished telling his side of the story, they immediately started talking about removing all charges that had been filed against her to get her out of Cragmoor as soon as possible. Evander tried to interrupt them and insisted that maybe they needed to hear the rest of the team (who had barely spoken through the entire conversation), as well as to go to the scene to look for clues. Danna Bell agreed with him and tried to take the word, but Tamaya stated they didn’t need to hear anything else, because the more they stayed there, listening, the more time an innocent girl stayed in prison. When Evander tried to argue again, Tamaya looked at Hugh, silently asking him to support her.
The five members of the Council knew the glass roof they had been standing under for God knows how much time, had shattered completely.  
The least Hugh could do was use his entire body to try to protect them from it.
So he agreed with Tamaya, and said, out loud, that Nova McLain was free of all charges.
Tucker and Silva smiled as soon as they heard him say that, and Bell just sighed. Adrian let out a “Yes!” under his breath and turned around to say, “Thank you.”
Evander just rolled his eyes and started playing with a pencil he found there, but Tamaya and Kasumi smiled at him, and Simon said, “No, Adrian, thank you.”
Before leaving the room with the rest of his team, Adrian cast a glance at Hugh.
But Hugh pretended he didn’t realize until Danna Bell told Adrian to keep going and he obeyed.
***
The Council stayed in the meeting room for a little while, to put all the cards on the table and make sure they understood each of the steps they had to take to get Nova McLain out of Cragmoor. Evander and Hugh were the only ones who didn’t participate in the conversation at all, but while Evander was doing it because he knew anything he had to say was going to be completely ignored and was mad about it, Hugh didn’t do it because he couldn’t take his eyes away from Simon.
Even if Simon wasn’t looking at him at all.
He talked with his hands. A lot. When they were teens, he remembered Simon constantly kept his hands in his pockets, especially when they were in public, so he wouldn’t draw any kind of attention to himself, and only dared to do it when he was at his house or very excited or sad about something. But now that he was an adult, he gesticulated even more, even during the most serious of conversations, with no shame at all. Hugh always had thought it was an adorable quirk of his, and being able to see him grow and embrace that part of himself (and get emotional when Kasumi pointed out Adrian was starting to talk with his hands too) felt like something very personal to him.
Every single thing that had to do with Simon felt so personal to him.
He wasn’t his other half. Hugh had once said that to him, and Simon confessed he found that “compliment” pretty problematic, and he couldn’t help but agree to him.  
Simon was more than that. It was something so much more important, so much, that the way he scratched his beard, raised his eyebrows, and looked at the ceiling to try to remember the word he wanted to say, made him realize how much he missed him already.
He missed him already; and he was right there, inches away from him.
Home.
Simon was his home.
And his house wouldn’t feel like it if he arrived there without him.
So when Tamaya dismissed all of them, he decided to make something about it.
That night, he would go back to his house with Simon— or he was not going back at all.
Adrian was leaning against the wall, waiting for them while playing with his keys. His team was nowhere to be seen, which was completely understandable considering how late  it was. As soon as he saw them walking through the door, he started to walk towards them, almost ignoring how Evander accidentally pushed him while trying to get out of there as soon as possible.
Then, he asked, “Are we going home now?”
And even if he was looking at Hugh when he said that, Hugh, instead of answering him, turned to see Simon. Not only because he knew that if he opened his mouth, the only thing that would come out of it would be… something not very nice about what he thought about Adrian’s behavior over the last hours; but also because, at that point, it all depended on what Simon had to say about it.
Even if he didn’t know it.
Simon.
Are we going home now, Simon?
But instead of answering the question, Simon smiled at him, and rubbing Adrian’s arms, told him, “I think Tamaya’s going to drop you at the house. You could do that, right?”
Tamaya and Kasumi were standing behind them. “Yeah, of course, I can.”
“Are you going to carry me in your arms and take me for a flight?”
“Funny. What about if you carry me, huh?”
“I can.”
“I cannot allow it though. It wouldn’t be very feminist of me.” Adrian laughed at her joke, and she pretended to act all cocky about it, brushing off her shoulders and trying not to smile. “Let’s go. Kasumi—”
“It’s all right. I arrived with Simon, my car’s here.”
Tamaya told her it was all right and then pointed at the elevator to tell Adrian they needed to get going. Both women started walking beside him, being slowly, but closely followed by Simon, letting Hugh standing where he was, probably waiting for him to follow them or—
Or maybe not.
But Hugh didn’t want to follow them.
He just wanted him.
“Simon—”
Adrian didn’t stop; the adults, however, did.
He was so happy, so relieved to see Simon turn around when he called his name, he didn’t even care that Tamaya and Kasumi also did it, with an expression on their faces he couldn’t tell what they meant.
That was enough for him to blur out his question.
“Can we talk?”
Simon slightly opened his mouth, but before saying anything, he turned to see his friends, for a reason Hugh didn’t understand (and didn’t bother to think about it).
Adrian called for the elevator, and realized, everyone was literally just standing there, without moving, and all their eyes were fixated on Simon. “Um… guys?”
Tamaya was the first one to come back to reality. “Wait for me in the car, Adrian, I’ll be there in a minute.”
He didn’t give it too much thought and nodded.
Simon still hadn’t said anything when Adrian left in the elevator. But now that his presence was gone, Hugh felt enough courage and serenity to— beg, he guessed.
“Please. Can we talk?”
Please. Please, please, please—
“Yes,” Simon said. “Yes, we can talk.”
He smiled. Just a little bit. Because Simon didn’t move towards him after he accepted. Instead, he stayed right where he was, as if he was in a line to get something from a store and if he moved, he was going to lose his place and the thing he had been waiting for hours to get.
After waiting for a good ten awkward seconds for Kasumi and Tamaya to keep walking, he realized they had no intention of doing so. And also, he realized that he didn’t want to talk with them either. Not at that moment.
At that moment, the only thing, the only person that mattered, was Simon.
“Could we… maybe go somewhere else more private?” he mumbled while scratching his eyebrow and trying not to make eye contact with any of the girls.
Simon clicked his tongue and glanced at Tamaya and Kasumi. “I’ll be back in a second.”
Or not.
The few instants they were walking towards the meeting room, Hugh looked at Simon’s hands, wondering when it would be the right moment to sneakily touch them, like he did when he was in love with him but still didn’t know it.
But Simon had his hands deep inside his pockets.
The only light that came into the room was the light of the few lightbulbs that illuminated the corridor; they turned off the majority of them during the night, not only because there weren't that many people around, but also to save electricity. Hugh entered first and Simon didn’t completely close the door behind him, only enough for no one to be able to see what they were doing in case some other Renegade was around there and walked past the room.
After that, Simon closed his eyes, grabbed tons of air, and then let it all go with a sigh. When he finally looked him in the eyes, Hugh realized it was the first time he did that after their fight in the kitchen.
And he realized all of that had happened in one day.
What a day. He bet they would remember it for the rest of their lives.
He hoped they wouldn’t. He hoped, and he hoped, even if his rational part told him it was not going to happen because memories didn’t work that way at all, but he kept hoping anyway, and started searching for the correct combination of words he needed for Simon to also forget about that day.
Hugh was willing to ignore everything they had gone through during that day. He would take Simon’s silence, words, and indifference, put it all inside a box, and then throw it at the back of his memories and never be opened again, if Simon was willing to do the same for Hugh’s cries, screams, and feelings.
He was even willing to let Simon stay mad at him for the rest of the night if that was what he needed. Yes, he could handle a night like that. He could be the one to stare at Simon’s back, for Simon to take a break from staring at his almost all the time they got into bed. He would do anything for him.
And he just wanted him to do one thing: to ignore everything that had just happened.
Forever.
While his mind was still trying to come up with how he was going to put all those thoughts into words, he caressed Simon’s cheek to buy himself a couple of extra seconds. But when Simon tensed and clenched his jaw, instead of tilting his head a little bit and putting his own hand over his, like he did every time Hugh touched his face like that, he knew there was nothing he couldn’t let more time go by.
Suddenly, his eyes were fixated on Simon’s lips. The same small, bitten, and dry lips he had contemplated for so many years, they felt like his own, and tasted like peppermint, a little bit of coffee, and sometimes even lavender.
When Simon opened them to speak, Hugh went from having absolutely no clue of what to do, to being absolutely sure of what he needed to do.
So he just did it.
He just placed his lips on top of Simon’s and kissed him.
At first, Simon didn't break the kiss. Instead, he went with the flow and kissed him back, as if he had been craving that kiss for months.
And he probably did. It was just that Hugh, suddenly, didn't.
Like. He thought he had. But now that he was there, with one hand holding Simon's head, and Simon's about to touch his hips, he started to feel like there was something very wrong with that situation.
But he was desperate. He wanted him back. He wanted him back and if that meant kissing him when he didn't feel like it, he was going to do it.
He would do everything for Simon.
He would never give up on him.
He just really wanted him to know that.
And really wanted to know if Simon hadn't given up on him either.
Simon kissed him one last time, raised his hands, put them on Hugh’s chest—
And pushed him away.
He pushed him away so suddenly, he tripped on his own feet and hit his head against the wall.
It didn't hurt though.
Still, the only thing he could answer to that, with Simon staring at him, realization dawning on his face, was a really fake:
“Ouch.”
Suddenly, Simon snapped. “What the fuck was that? Hugh, what the fuck was that?” he insisted. “Did you— do you really think that treating me as if I were a— a fucking animal, you're going to get something from me? Where do you think I have my brain? Huh? Where!?”
Hugh didn't respond. And Simon wasn't taking it. “Where?! Answer me! Where, where, where—”
Simon raised his hands above his head, and started pulling his own hair, hid his face with his arms, and just— broke down.
In a million pieces.
That was enough to make him flinch.
He preferred he pushed him again. Hell, Simon could slap him for kissing him without telling him he was going to do it first, and it would be much better than watching him suffer like that.
“Where, where—” he cried “—Stars, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for pushing you, it was— are you— I'm so sorry, lo—” and let out a loud sob.
Hugh kept gazing at his crying husband for a while.
“Do you really think that low of me?”
And kept pulling his hair. And his face remained hidden. His cries only became louder and louder, and Hugh didn't dare to move, much less to touch him, because even if he wanted with all his might to hold him and grabbed him by the wrists so he didn't continue hurting himself, he knew it would be useless.
Everything was useless.
“Stop that,” he finally dared to say.
He didn't say “No, I don't.”
He didn't say “Of course I don't think badly of you.”
He didn't even say he loved him.
He told him to stop.
Stop what?
“No, you stop!” Simon shrieked. “Stop whatever the hell you're doing, stop it. You're hurting me.”
Hurting.
You're hurting me.
He looked at his hands. Fortunately, they were completely dry and have not a single drop of chromium coming out of them.
But they felt as if they were on fire. And heavy.
Is that how they were supposed to feel when they were hurting someone?
And if they felt this heavy, and this hot, and this horrible, in how much heavy, hot, horrible pain could the other person be?
No, really: in how much?
How could you explain pain to someone who couldn't feel it?
“Why?”
And like an idiot, he asked back, “Why what?”
Simon removed his arms from his face and looked him dead in the eye for what he knew would be the last in time.
“Why do you have to make everything worse, Hugh?”
Hugh didn’t answer his question, and Simon didn’t answer his either.
A question he never got the chance to ask but was at the back of his mind.
Have you given up on me yet?
***
Hugh didn't come out of the meeting room until he was sure no one else was around. Until the elevator had gone and came back four times, and until his head felt so dizzy, he would faint if he didn't sit down.
He looked around, making sure nobody saw him, went to his office, and put a lock in the door. Hugh didn't want anyone to interrupt him. He had a lot of paperwork to do if he wanted to get Nova out of Cragmoor as soon as the sun came out.
***
It wasn’t the first time he had slept at his office. It had never been because he wanted to, but because he absolutely had to. Somedays, he would have so many responsibilities, that his normal working hours were not enough for him to finish them all. It was a little uncomfortable since the desk wasn’t the best place one could sleep on, and sometimes he didn’t have the energy to get up and go to Max’s quarantine room, to at least have the opportunity to sleep on a bed and an excuse to have a little more time with him.
Those nights, when he had to put his head on the desk and use his arms as a pillow, he would wake up and realized someone had put a blanket over his shoulders. And he always knew that someone had been Simon because the blanket smelled a little bit like him.
Even if Max’s quarantine area hadn’t been destroyed and he could go there to sleep, he wouldn’t have done it. Max wouldn’t be there. It wouldn’t be the same with him moving like he was possessed by a demon and kicking him in his sleep.
Which was something also Simon did.
The day Nova was released from prison, Simon stayed at Kasumi’s house. She didn’t comment anything about it and Tamaya had been the one who told him that the reason he didn’t come to work was that he had a headache. Hugh never asked her about it, but she informed him anyways. For some reason, he pretended not to be very concerned about it and just mumbled he hoped he felt better tomorrow.
When he woke up, after his second night of sleeping on his desk, he considered the crazy idea Kasumi and Evander had told him of getting sofas for each one of his offices; idea that he had brushed off because he thought they would only waste space, but now regretted he hadn’t listened to.
Unfortunately, he didn’t have an extra uniform for that day, so he just prayed the one he was wearing was clean enough for nobody to notice he hadn’t changed his clothes that morning, put on a lot of deodorant and cologne to hide the fact he hadn’t showered, and went out through one of the back doors, just to enter again a couple of minutes later through the front door, pretending he had just arrived from home and hadn’t stayed there all night.
As soon as he entered, he told Sampson if he could please notify him when Nova arrived at Headquarters. He didn’t ask for an explanation as to why he wanted that, but accepted anyway, clearly excited for having her back with them.
Hugh wasn’t… excited. Or happy, for that matter. Not that he wasn’t happy that she wasn't locked up anymore— of course he was happy she wasn’t locked up anymore.
What he was feeling reminded him more of when Simon, Evander, and he were playing a game they liked to call “Tag, you’re straight”, that consisted of the three of them throwing balls against a random wall at the same time, and then doing their best to dodge them while pushing the others so they get hit. Then, whoever got hit, would be smacked on the back of his head, and the other two would yell “Tag, you’re straight!”. It was a game he really liked and they kept playing even when they weren’t teens anymore, since in their family, bullying Evander was a great bonding activity, and “Tag, you’re straight” was the perfect opportunity to do so, especially because, as far as everyone knew, Evander was, in fact, straight, so that made everything ten times funnier when he got hit by a ball and got mad about it.
And yes, everything was fun and laughs, until Hugh broke a window, and a very angry Tamaya practically kicked the door down to ask them what the fuck had happened, yelling at the three of them for a good two or five minutes.
Even if Hugh had been the one who broke the window, everyone (even Kasumi, who was in the bathroom when the whole thing happened) helped clean up the mess and got cardboard to cover what now would be considered a hole in the wall, so the cold wind and dust wouldn't get in the house. It seemed like Tamaya had gotten a lot out of her system after yelling at them, because she chuckled at the jokes Evander and Simon made about the situation, saying that Hugh’s new power was turning straight everyone (and everything) he touched and that now the window was “one of them”. Hugh wanted to laugh too, but at the same time, he could only ask himself how she was going to react when she arrived home and realized what he had done.
And of course he wanted her to come home, as he always wanted every time she got out, to make sure she was still safe and sound, and so they could tell each other about their day and what they had done while the other wasn’t around. But now, he was also worried. And ashamed.
It was a combination of happiness, expectation, worry, and shame.
And he didn’t like it one bit.
So when Sampson let him know, after a while, Nova McLain was there, what he really heard, was Simon’s voice telling him she had arrived.
He knew it wasn’t the same person. But it felt pretty similar.
He made sure he didn’t look like a dead body before going to the first floor while making mental notes of what he was going to say to Nova.
Her situation had always been one that was pretty delicate, but now it had taken a new turn. A simple “I’m sorry”, with only those words, wouldn’t be enough for her, because it wouldn’t be enough for him either. He knew how Cragmoor was.
Hugh wanted— needed her to feel as if she belonged to the Renegades. Because, yeah, she did, but he knew that when she was back in her cell, she probably didn’t feel that way, and if he let this one slide, it would become a problem sooner or later.
Probably much more sooner than later.
It wasn’t like he was going to lie to her face or something; he just was going to point in the right direction. For her.
When the elevator doors finally opened, he spotted Nova surrounded by Adrian’s team (but no Adrian in sight). Silva and Tucker were smiling at her and touching her, but Bell, who was used to keep her hands to herself when it came to physical touch, just stayed there, watching her friends greet her without actually participating in the conversation that was happening in front of her. Actually, she was the first one to leave Nova alone after Silva said something about going out to eat (and Hugh could clearly listen to him because Silva didn’t know how to keep his voice down, so when he went to their house, he could hear everything he said to Adrian, even the most embarrassing parts), an invitation Nova rejected, even after they insisted her to got with them. Hugh decided to take that as an opportunity to talk to her.
Nova was a Renegade.
And the Renegades didn’t turn their backs on each other.
The feeling that he had just thought something pretty hypocrite started to creep at the back of his mind, when someone very small bumped against his chest, and before he could mumble a mechanic apology and keep walking, he realized that very small someone was Nova.
He had to think fast.
“Oops, sorry, Nova.”
He could call her Nova, right? Insomnia felt way too formal. And McLain seemed a little bit aggressive. Plus, she was Adrian’s girlfriend— or that was the last thing he had known about the topic. If they had broken up, Hugh would have probably received a memo or something. He didn't have Max or Simon with him to ask them about what they knew about it. They probably would tell him to go ask Adrian directly though, and that was something Hugh was not willing to do because he was still not talking to Adrian.
“Uh… hi,” Nova stammered.
Then, being completely aware he could break her hand’s bones if he grabbed her too hard, gave her a handshake as carefully as he could.
But still solid enough to show her he was being serious.
“I asked Sampson to let me know when you came in. I wanted to be one of the first to welcome you back to the team.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
He released her hand and stopped smiling.
The conversation couldn’t die there. He needed more.  
“And I wanted to offer you a formal apology for this abysmal misunderstanding,” he added. “I’m ashamed to think how we treated you, as one of our own, when your loyalty and dedication has been so unwavering. It’s just…” What was the word? “all this turmoil that’s been going on lately, you know? The parade, Cosmopolis Park, the attack on headquarters, Ace Anarchy… sometimes I feel like we’re jumping through hoops set on fire, and every one of them is a little bit smaller. If we don’t keep ahead of all the threats and dangers, then one of these days, the whole thing will go up in flames.”
That was a good analogy. And he had just come up with that one.
Apparently, Nova thought it had been a good analogy too, because she chuckled and said, “Well, good thing you’re invincible, at least.”
“Yeah, I might be,” he shrugged, “but there are people I care about that don’t have that luxury, and I’m just doing what I can to protect them. I hope you understand that we did what we had to do, given the circumstances.”
The circumstances, he thought.
Nova had people she loved. Adrian had mentioned she had an uncle before, as far as he could remember. She had proved to be pretty passionate about the things she cared about, and he bet that she would do anything to protect the only family she had left.
The circumstances didn’t matter. They never mattered as long as the people one loved were safe.
She would understand.
She had to understand.
And fortunately, she did.
“Of course,” Nova answered, with a smile on her lips.
“Good.” Good. Everything was working out as he wanted to. “Because you are a part of the Renegades family now,” and he added, feeling a little too inspired, “and it’s important to me and all the Council that everyone here feels like they’re being treated fairly.  That they are part of this team.”
You’re a Renegade, Nova.
And the Renegades don’t turn their backs on each other.
And as if Nova had listened to his thoughts, she lifted her chin and said, “I don’t blame you and the Council for what happened. You were given information and you had to act on it. I understand why you did what you did. But—”
Hugh had to use all his might not to growl or roll his eyes as soon as he heard that word.
He couldn’t appear too relieved because something was always going to get in the way.
“—I was surprised by the whole execution thing.”
Me too.
Honestly, me too.
“Yes…” he agreed, “it’s unfortunate that we… Well, I hate to think about what you went through.” Then, just to make sure the point was cleared, he quickly said, “But I am so glad it’s all worked out.”
Isn't it?
“Yes, it worked out for me, thankfully,” she answered, putting a lot of emphasis on “for me”, by slowing her voice “But I have to admit that I’d always wanted to believe the Renegades were, well, above capital punishment. To end someone’s life, giving them no possible chance for restitution, and to do it without even offering a fair trial, it seems—” she frowned and put her index finger in the space between her nose and her lips “—how do I say this? A little villainous.”
As soon as Hugh heard that, he chuckled.
Because telling her to stop talking back to him and go to her room was not an option, and he didn’t know what else to do.
“To be fair,” he mentioned, “we did believe you were Nightmare, and Nightmare did try to kill me.”
But most importantly, she tried to kill Max. And should probably go for Adrian and Simon next, if they didn’t stop her soon. Something he should be making sure they did, but couldn’t leave the conversation, because Nova still had a lot to say about the matter.
“I’m aware of that,” Nova agreed “but… don’t you think she would at least deserve another chance?”
During the whole conversation, he had tried to stay as impassive as possible, only showing the right amount of emotion on his features for him to be able to get his point across. However, he didn’t do a good job on that specific moment, because Nova’s tone quickly changed.
“Or, maybe not Nightmare, specifically,” she withdrew. “But think about it. I was in that prison—wrongfully, yes—but it still gave me time to think about my life and my choices, and to decide that, if I ever got out of there, I would do things differently. The Renegades have to be willing to look beyond the mistakes of the past and understand that people can change.” Nova shook her head. “And I’m not talking about the execution, either. I know you’ll never forgive Ace Anarchy for what he did, and maybe you’ll never forgive Nightmare, either—”
At least we can agree on that.
And the only reason they could agree on that, was because Hugh was hearing her words as if she were talking to him underwater, and instead of focusing on what she was saying, he could only focus on her gestures, her hands, and, for some reason, her eyes.
But weirdly enough, he only did it when she wasn’t looking in his.
“—But there are dozens of prodigies on that island, some who have been there for more than a decade. And yet—” she raised her finger “—we have no systems in place to see if they really are as dangerous as we think they are. To see if they deserve the punishment they’re receiving. Maybe some of them want to become useful citizens in this world;” she shrugged, “maybe some of them deserve that. But you want to strip their powers from them, without even giving them a chance to explain why they did the things they did or how they’ve changed in the years since. Many of them are still being persecuted for crimes they committed in the Age of Anarchy…” Nova clicked her tongue before asking, “I mean, didn’t you do anything during that time that you’re not proud of?”
Nova asking him something so directly made him realize his jaw had been clenched during the whole conversation with no apparent reason at all. Then, a lot of things he wasn’t proud of doing during the Age of Anarchy started to come to his mind, and he had to stop his brain from doing that, because if the memories kept running, they were going to get to a point of no return, and no one would like what they were going to see.
Because when he first did, something broke inside of him.
No. It didn’t break.
It died.
Something died.
“We did what we had to do to stop the villain gangs, to bring order and peace,” he answered. “We would do it again if we had to.”
He would do it again. Most of it.
Only most of it.
She arched an eyebrow. “Even if that meant doing things that you wouldn’t allow today as part of the Code Authority?”
He clenched his jaw again and pinched his lips, only that this time, he knew exactly why he had done it.
“Maybe some of those prisoners did things that were… justified, in some way,” Nova continued. “Maybe they stole things because there were no jobs back then. Maybe they fought against authority because authority abused and ostracized people like them. Maybe they would choose differently now, if we only gave them a chance.”
Give them another chance. Chances.
Nova seemed to be really interested in chances. But Hugh had learned that the world didn’t always give second chances to people, not even to those who deserve it the most, and the sooner Nova learned that, the less the world would hurt her.
He had to stop her right there before realization hit her in the face.
When his kids were little and did something wrong, he (or Simon) would kneel in front of them and make it clear why their behavior was wrong, so they knew exactly the reason they were being grounded. Now, Nova was not his kid, and especially, she wasn't exactly a kid anymore. But she was still young, and if he could do something to protect her, he would do it.
He couldn’t apply the same technique he applied with Adrian and Max. However, he could definitely show her the right path and hope she knew, it was for her own good.
And, again, she would understand.
She had to understand.
“Nova… I can tell you’re passionate about this,” he started, and clearly noticed how her jaw tensed too, “but… you have to understand that the people in that prison aren’t like you. You were innocent. You shouldn’t have been there in the first place. While they are criminals and villains, practically savages some of them.”
But to his surprise—
Nova didn’t.
“How do you know?” she spatted. “How many of them have you talked to recently? Or for that matter, how many of them ever received a fair trial?”
Hugh sighed and took a look at his surroundings. There were a lot of Renegades around them, pretending to be on their own thing, but clearly listening to the entire conversation for who knows how long.
He couldn't scream at them. Not again.
Nova, on the other hand, was also looking around but didn't appear as angry as Hugh was.
Maybe because she couldn't understand the severity of the conversation they were having.
“What are you suggesting?” he asked her, lowering his voice. Nova returned his attention to him. “That we postpone the Agent N reveal until we can… what, interview them?” then, he added, scoffing, “Or should we devote our resources to gathering evidence from ten years ago, all so we can prove what we already know? They are villains,” Hugh reminded her.
And in response, she reminded him, “I’m not a villain. But that wasn’t going to stop you from executing me.”
Hugh didn't doubt Nova's innocence. At least, not anymore. But, when she said it that way, she sounded so convincing and so sure of her words, that he wondered why he had thought she was Nightmare in the first place.
“And no,” Nova continued, “I’m not suggesting you postpone the reveal for a while, I’m suggesting you postpone it indefinitely.”
He stepped back, feeling shocked by the determination in her voice.
And her audacity.
That audacity.
Simon always said that one shouldn't be quick to judge other people's actions because there was always a reason why they were acting like that. Within those words (and Simon, always Simon) in mind, Hugh thought that there had to be a reason behind her audacity, and it couldn't be the one he was starting to think it was.
Nova didn't flinch at his reaction and continued to talk as confidently as before. “In fact, I think you should destroy Agent N. All of it. Along with any possibility that it could ever be re-created.”
Maybe it was resentment.
Maybe those were her ideas about good and bad.
Maybe it was that she was scared of losing her powers herself.
So he went with that, and recited the exact words he had been thinking about since Genissa Clark had been neutralized, and that he had been saying to each Renegade that expressed that very same concern. “If this is about what happened to Frostbite and her team, it’s important for everyone to know that we are working to ensure the safety of all Renegades—”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Nova interrupted him violently. “This isn’t about the patrol units or figuring out how to defend ourselves more efficiently or any of that” she clenched her fist, closed her eyes, and exclaimed, “The world doesn’t revolve around the Renegades!”
Suddenly, a shadow rose and turned into the familiar silhouette of the man who had used the exact same words years before Nova entered into his life.  
Hugh (and the rest of the world) would’ve been able to recognize his face on any occasion. At first, the only thing that made him less afraid of him was the knowledge that, at least, he didn't know how his face looked like, because he always hid it behind a mask and that made him have something to use against him that couldn't be used against Hugh.
Now, he knew how his face looked.
Now they could be… considered equals.
Even if Hugh had promised himself he would never let the power corrupt him the same way it had corrupted him.
He was better than him.
He would always be better than him.
But since no one could be better than him, Ace Anarchy's silhouette looked at him, raised an eyebrow,  and echoed, “The world doesn’t revolve around the Renegades. And the sooner Captain Chromium learns that, the less the world is going to hurt him and his cause.”
She shook her hands a little, but her eyes didn't open, and the shadow didn't disappear. “Isn’t it our responsibility to bridge the gaps between people?” she asked, more calmly than before. “To recognize that we all have to live in this world together? We need to start seeing other prodigies, not as villains, but as—” she blinked twice “—well, other human beings, who maybe aren’t so different from us after all. I want to believe that we can close this divide between us, but… Agent N isn’t the answer.”
Ace out his hands over Nova's shoulders.
“But that’s all the Anarchists have to say about the matter.”
And when their gazes locked, it hit him.
Someone was looking at him through Nova's eyes, and he immediately knew who it was because he recognized the feeling from when he looked at Adrian's and for those seconds he dared to do it, he didn't see his son, but her.
Through her eyes, he could see, for the split of a second, the man who had tried to stop Ace Anarchy even before they knew exactly how to do it. He saw the man who felt as if he had been a coward during all those years for staying by the Anarchist’s side, but in reality, was one of the best ones out of the bunch, because in the end, he had been able to have the courage to do what was right.
And she said that one cannot be brave who has no fear.
He wanted to get close to her. He wanted to kneel, grab her by the shoulders, and take a closer look at her, just to be completely sure he wasn't going crazy, because it for sure sounded crazy and maybe Hugh was indeed a little bit crazy, but he was also desperate enough to do all of those things he was thinking about just to get an answer once and for all.
But Ace's hands were still on her shoulders.
And she seemed so far.
And he feared it would happen again. Like when he saw Adrian's eyes, looking for her, just to realize she wasn't really there.
The Artino girl wasn't there either.
All the Artinos had been killed during that same night and nothing was going to bring them back.
“I know this is coming from a place of good intentions,” he stated. “I don’t expect you to understand the challenges facing our world of the difficult decision we’ve had to make, but I can assure you that none of our decisions have been made lightly.”
None of them.
Not a single one.
“I know that, but—”
“Everything the Council has done these past years has been in service to the people of this world who need our help, for protection and justice. I’m afraid this isn’t up for debate, Nova. Our decision regarding Agent N, and the fate of those villains, has already been decided.” But before Nova McLain could object, he sentenced, “And our decision is final.”
He turned his back on her before she could do it, and pretended he didn't notice she kept following him with her eyes until the elevator doors closed, and he leaned his back against the wall, doing his best not to start hyperventilating.
She didn't turn your back on you.
She didn't fail you.
She died.
She just died.
***
He stayed the rest of the morning inside his office after that, without (luckily) no one entering his office to ask him about anything. Not even Evander did it, and he had this horrible habit of just bursting into their offices to pretend he needed to seriously talk about something to ignore his own responsibilities. Hugh hated when he did that, so when he heard someone knocking on his door, he was ready to yell at Evander to get the hell out of his office, as if he were a seventeen-years-old teenager again, saying, “EVANDER, GET OUT OF MY ROOM!” (only that this time, Evander wouldn’t be able to answer him with “WE SHARE THE ROOM, YOU CAPTAIN CU-”)
But Hugh didn’t have to yell anything, because it wasn’t Evander. It was Tamaya.
And whoever dared to yell at Tamaya could consider themselves a dead man.
“I’m going to get some take out for lunch,” she said, leaning against the door frame, “you want me to bring you something?”
Tamaya was the one who went out to get the others lunch each time they needed because she was able to fly to the coffee shop and get there a lot faster than any of them could. She didn’t seem to have a problem with it, even though she did have a lot of problems with a lot of things, and people taking advantage of her powers were one of them.
Maybe she liked to feel useful. Or maybe something she just needed to get out of there every once in a while.
“No, I’m fine,” he answered her.
“Oh, you brought something to eat then.”
“Of course.”
Tamaya wasn’t convinced by that answer.
“What did you bring?” she asked.
Without hesitation, Hugh opened one of his desk’s drawers. Fortunately, there was a can of soda that he didn’t know how had arrived there, but he was glad it did.
He took it out and showed it to her, pretending to be super proud of himself or something, and Tamaya rolled her eyes. “Well— if you don’t want anything, I won’t bring you anything.”
“That’s literally how things are supposed to work.”
She was about to leave when she remembered something. “Oh, by the way— Kasumi wants us to have lunch together.”
Hugh couldn’t help but growl. “Why?”
“Because she says so,” she answered him. “So take your… soda, and meet us at the dining room in half an hour.”
Hugh just went back to what he was doing and told her he was going to be there. Tamaya didn’t say anything else.
The Council didn’t eat at the cafeteria with the rest of the staff. They had a private dining room on the same floor their offices were. The cleaning staff never went there, because the six of them took turns to mop and sweep, and the main unspoken rule was “If you spill it, you clean it”. It was like when they lived all together in one house and had to work as a team to keep it clean, which Kasumi said was nice and brought her nice memories, but most of the time, Hugh thought it was a pain in the ass, since, obviously, sometimes people didn’t respect the unspoken rule, probably because they knew that someone else would be the one who would clean it anyways.
Just like when they lived together.
Only that, now, that someone was Hugh.
The dining room was mainly used by him and Simon. Sometimes Adrian went there to have lunch with them, but lately, he preferred to do it with his team. It wasn’t very common for the Council to eat together, because each one had their own schedule. He didn’t know why Kasumi suddenly wanted to do it and he thought it was a little bit annoying she didn’t take into consideration that maybe the rest of them had other things to do, but at the same time, couldn’t find a good reason for him to say no.
When the half an hour Tamaya said went by, he walked to the dining room and saw Kasumi for the first time that day.
She didn’t greet him or anything. Evander was with her, chattering about something that he didn’t comprehend, and didn’t want to know about, so he sat down on one of the chairs and completely ignored their conversation until Tamaya appeared uncomfortably sitting down in the chair beside him.
She didn’t bring him anything. Anything at all.
And, well… yes, Hugh had told her he didn’t want anything; but he always told her he didn’t want anything and she brought him something anyway. When one of them forgot their lunch, Tamaya bought them a sandwich or a sushi roll and basically stayed there until they finished the whole thing, and since Hugh was the one who forgot about his basic human needs the most, he had a lot of recent memories of Tamaya watching him eat, like a mother making sure her kid eat all his vegetables (which turned even more accurate when Hugh informed her he didn’t like green peppers and she told him to grow the fuck up and eat the damn thing.)
The next thing he knew, was that everyone was sitting at the table, eating their respective lunch in complete silence. Tamaya had bought a gyro, Kasumi was having a bowl of rice and pasta salad she had brought from home and was drinking a white milky beverage that Evander got for her when he went to the taco stand Oscar Silva and Adrian had told him about.
“You know how many calories are on those things?” Hugh asked Evander.
Evander looked at him and pointed at the soda he was drinking. “Is that all you’re having for lunch?”
He remained silenced for a little. “No…”
Tamaya rolled her eyes and Evander scoffed. “Evander, chips and soda do not count as lunch, eat grapes, grapes are the chips of nature,” he said in a ridiculous voice that intended to sound like Hugh’s (and didn’t). Kasumi snorted and tried to hide it by drinking some of her weird water/milk, but wasn’t able to. “Come on, Kasumi, make the Hugh voice,” Evander told her.
Don’t you dare.
Kasumi didn’t dare.
“Maybe later, Vandy,” she said, with a serious face. “Maybe later.”
“Come on!” he insisted, after taking a sip of his drink (the same he brought Kasumi). “Zoomie, you make a pretty good imitation of Hugh.”
Tamaya nodded. It was true; Kasumi was pretty good at imitating voices. He just wasn’t in the mood to hear them make fun of him.
Luckily, Kasumi wasn’t in the mood for that either. “Evander, I said no.”
Her voice was so severe and chilling, that Evander understood immediately. Tamaya asked him for a napkin, and the whole dining room fell silent again.
And it was also like when they lived together.
It hadn’t always been like that though.
“You know, this is the first time in, like, five years, I don't have any paperwork to fill,” Evander announced.
Literally nobody asked.
“Well, I do have tons of paperwork waiting for me on my desk,” Tamaya said, “I wouldn’t mind sharing it with you.”
“That’s low, dude, I’m telling—” he frowned and looked around “—Wait… where’s Simon?”
And with that simple question, the room’s silence turned into a completely different type of silence.
One that he could not only feel, but also touch. One that made his vision blurry, a lump in his throat, and his eyes water. One that it was more like a fog than silence.
One that he could tell came from an imaginary fire that was so dangerous, he always shared a look with someone to make sure they were also aware of the situation they were in.
Only that this time, he didn’t share a look with anyone.
Tamaya and Kasumi did though.
And then, they turned to see Hugh.
But he didn’t turn to see them back.
“He wasn’t feeling well,” Kasumi said. “So… he stayed home.”
Evander arched his eyebrows. “Huh. Again?—” he turned to see Hugh “—Does he have a cold?”
“Evander—” Tamaya said.
“What? Dude, I’m literally just asking.”
“Well, don’t ask,” Hugh blurted out. “It’s not of your business.”
“But—”
“Not of your business,” then, he echoed, mockingly, “Dude.”
It’s not of anyone’s business.
He pretended he finished his soda and threw it in the can that was beside the water cooler close to the door. Even though the rest of them had just started eating, he saw no point in staying there longer than he already had. He had done enough by just being there for a while.
And he had other things to do.
Hugh excused himself and stood up. Neither Kasumi nor Tamaya said anything to him and just kept eating their lunches, probably because they already knew there was nothing that could be said.
But Evander didn’t know that.
So, before Hugh walked through the door, he said loud and clear:
“Someone didn’t get it last night.”
Kasumi got all pale and Tamaya started choking with her gyro. When they were able to recover from the initial shock, they cast an expecting and preoccupied glance at Hugh, waiting for his reaction for what felt like hours, and not seconds.
It took him a lot of time to process those words. He considered himself someone who reacted pretty quickly to everything, but the words Evander said to him were like freezing water, or a blow to the face, or…
Those things that would never be able to hurt him, but for some reason, if they were cold or powerful enough, would disorient him for a couple of seconds, before he would be able to get back up again and do something about it.
So at that moment, the only way he could react was asking him:
“What did you say to me?”
Evander raised an eyebrow and smirked. “I said you didn’t get it. You know”
But everyone pretended to not know what he was talking about.
Seeing they didn't react the way he expected them to, he frowned and clicked his tongue. “You didn’t tap that ass. You didn’t do the PP. He didn’t rub your silver spe—”
Kasumi got all red. “Evander—”
“I’m explaining it to him, I’m explaining it to him,” he told her as if trying to calm her down. “Let me finish the last one, I’ve been wanting to say that joke for months.”
Tamaya left her gyro on the plate and massaged her temple. “Evander, seriously, shut the fu—”
“Wait, no, I got this—” he chuckled, put his elbows on the table, closed his eyes “—Your hubby didn’t make love to you last night?” And then, after opening his eyes again, he added, “Darling.”
And with that, Hugh lost his head.
He went there.
He really went there, and the worst part was, he probably didn't even realize that.
He closed the door violently and screamed, “THAT'S IT.”
He threw himself at Evander before he could process what was happening. But Tamaya and Kasumi were a lot faster than him, and swiftly got in between the two of them, Tamaya grabbing Hugh by the shoulders and pulling him back, and Kasumi pushing Evander out of his way.
“BRO, WHAT THE—”
“I SAID IT’S NOT OF YOUR BUSINESS,” he yelled. “IT’S NOT OF ANYONE’S BUSINESS”
Tamaya and Kasumi finally managed to put them behind each of them, creating a weird barrier between the two. And even if they were almost as tall as the two of them were, they still weren't tall enough to completely block each other from the other's view. Hugh could perfectly see Evander paralyzed by his reaction, almost tripping with his own feet because of how much Kasumi kept pushing him and having to hold all of his weight on a chair to not fall backward.
But that still wasn't enough to stop him from shitting on him.
“WHAT’S YOUR DAMAGE!? DID YOU FALL OFF THE BED!? JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.”
“Evander, lower your voice,” Kasumi urged him, “people will hear you.”
“Tell him to lower his voice!” he answered pointing at Hugh with the palm of his hand. “He started it! HE’S THE ONE WHO'S ACTING LIKE A FUCKING LUNATIC!”
Kasumi didn't agree with him directly. Instead, she turned around, looked at him from head to toe, slightly closing her eyes and pressing her lips, and before she even opened her mouth, he already knew he didn't want to listen to anything she had to say.
She hadn't listened to him first.
But now she was going to.
Everyone there was going to hear him.
“Hugh, I think—”
“Why did you tell him?” he asked.
Evander frowned even more. “Huh? Tell me what?”
But Kasumi barely moved.
“Why did you have to run to Evander and tell him about my personal life?” he kept asking her. “No, the real question is,” he scoffed, “why do you feel the necessity to get in my personal life, Kasumi?!”
Now it was Evander the one who carefully pushed Kasumi aside and put her behind him, but before he could scream at him or punch him in the face, knowing perfectly well that wouldn't do anything, Tamaya put his whole arm in front of him, giving him a deathly look, and Kasumi slightly touched his shoulder, completely poker-faced.
And for some reason that made him even angrier.
She had no right to act like she was the sane one in the situation.
“It’s not only your personal life,” she explained to him in a calm voice. “It’s also Simon’s. And I’m not getting into your personal life, he was the one who told us what was going on.”
“Us,” he echoed.
Tamaya let her arms down to her sides. “Yeah. Us. He told us everything.”
Evander didn't take her distraction as an opportunity to punch Hugh. “Everything?” he asked instead.
“Everything,” Hugh repeated.
But he wasn't answering Evander's question.
“Yeah, that’s great,” he said, faking a smile. “That’s fucking great. He went with you and talked shit about me behind my back.” The words were coming out of his mouth before he could question them, “What a great fucking husband he—”
“Do not finish that sentence,” Kasumi ordered him, giving a step forward. “He wasn’t talking shit about you, he was worried. Simon was worried sick about you. He is worried sick about you.”
“Why— why is he worried about him?”
Everyone ignored him one more time.
Hugh crossed his arms. “Well, he doesn’t seem like it.”
Tamaya massaged her temple one more time and sighed. “Maybe if you—”
“Maybe if I do what?” he interrupted. “Should I make the first move? I already tried it, and it didn’t work.” He tried to scoff one more time, but what came out of him sounded more like a growl. “You should know; Simon must have told you.”
“When—”
“Yes, he did,” Kasumi answered, shameless. She crossed her arms too and frowned. “That wasn’t right, Hugh.”
What do you know?
You weren’t there.
No one was there.
“No, everything was going fine.” He clenched his fists. “Look, I don’t know what Simon made you think, but we were fine.”
“Not kissing your husband for weeks and then trying to do it just to avoid talking with him about the issue doesn’t sound fine to me.”
Evander gasped. “Wait, you actually haven’t been getting it—”
Hugh laughed out loud, and even he could notice he sounded like an absolute maniac. “You too? You too are going to pull that card on me?” he questioned her. “I do kiss him, and I do hug him, and we do have sex, and I shouldn’t be telling you any of these things, because these are private details of my life you shouldn’t know about! My private life is completely okay.”
Tamaya took him by surprise.
“But are you okay?”
Her voice sounded so soft, so calm, and so genuinely concerned, that he didn’t dare to lie to her, or to even look at her when he answered:
“Again. Not of your business.”
After that, Tamaya was herself again. “Hugh, listen—”
And Hugh managed to get the courage to lift his face. “No, you lis—”
The entire room went dark before Hugh could finish talking. A pair of blinding white lights started shining right in front of him, and, even with his eyes slightly closed, he could tell they were coming out of Evander’s fists.
The spotlight wasn’t on him at that moment. So he decided to steal it.
Classic Blacklight.
Classic Evander Wade throwing a fucking fit when the world dared not to revolve around him for a minute.
After making sure he had grabbed everyone's attention, he opened his hands again and the tiny balls of lights returned to their light bulbs. But his face was still clouded by a strange darkness that even made Kasumi flinch and move backward towards Tamaya.
“What the hell is going on?” he asked, clenching his teeth and glaring at the three of them. “What the hell are you even talking about?—” and then, he turned to see him “—Why does everyone seem to know what the fucking problem is except me!?”
“…and she left me here!
ME!”
Him.
It was always him.
It hadn’t been enough for Evander that their lives practically had to revolve around him during all his childhood and teenage years. He now wanted them to stop their discussion and tell him what was going on as if they couldn’t have their own problems without him feeling he was entitled to know every single detail about it.
And hadn’t that been how that whole fight had started in the first place?
He hadn’t been able to control Tamaya and Kasumi finding out about what was going on because Simon had told him. But Hugh wasn’t Simon, and he was sure as hell he didn’t feel comfortable at all sharing that part of his life with him.
He wouldn’t understand. He would pretend he did for a couple of minutes, and then would use it against him on the first opportunity he had that would benefit him one way or another.
He knew Evander. He knew he was capable of that, and more.
“I think you should leave,” he told him.
His expression hardened. “I think you should answer my question.”
“I told you to leave!”
Hugh raised his arm to point at the door—
And Evander grabbed him by the wrist.
Kasumi’s eyes widened and Tamaya’s face contorted while her wings bristled, alerting her of the danger.
Hugh knew Evander was taller than him. At first, all of them made a lot of jokes about how it was Hugh’s worst fear and that he wasn’t allowed to stand beside him at any moment so nobody noticed it. But every one of those comments stayed like that.
Jokes.
Not only because, well, they were. But also because, inside his head, Hugh always saw Evander as shorter than him, probably because he had gotten used to the idea of things being that way, and he wasn’t in the mood for other detail of his life changing again, it didn’t matter how small it may seem.
Yet, now he couldn’t keep pretending he didn’t see what was right in front of him.
He could tell his hands were getting warmer and warmer, to a point that if he had normal skin and his suit wasn’t covering his arm, he would start to feel as if they were burning him, and Evander didn’t appear to have any intentions of letting him go.
As if he wanted to burn him to death.
He kept staring at each other, with a vein popping out of his neck. The corners of his lips curved up, but before it could turn into a grin, it disappeared, and instead of laughing, he ordered, “Don’t you talk to me like that.”
“Me.
She left me here, guys.
She left.”
“Evander, that’s enough,” Tamaya said, with a calm, but terrifying tone. “Let him go.”
But Evander only grasped him tighter.
Her fingers shone with the electricity they carried. “Let. Him. Go.”
He glanced at Tamaya, then at Kasumi, and finally, he returned his attention to Hugh, waiting.
Waiting for him to say it.
“She left.”
“Let me go.”
Evander pressed his lips together and lost his grip until his arm fell, and he sat down again.
“And for the record—” Kasumi’s voice said, “—Don’t talk to any of us like that.”
Hugh turned his back at them and took off one of his gloves as fast and discreetly as he could. He heard Kasumi asking something to Evander but she said it in such a low voice that the only thing he could actually listen was Evander’s childhood nickname, which Kasumi always used and Hugh didn’t because it felt so personal to both of them he didn’t dare to interfere with that.
His hands were dry. And he forced his eyes to stay that way too because he could sense them getting wet at the thought of Evander really believing Hugh was going to hit him.
He heard Tamaya’s footsteps getting closer to him, and he rapidly put his glove back on and turned to see them again, scoffing. “So, that’s what today is about? You collectively decided all you were going to do was contradict me?”
Tamaya stepped back the steps she took and scoffed too. “Sounds familiar?” she asked. Hugh couldn’t ask her at first what she was talking about. “You can’t ask us to blindly follow you b and get mad when we decide not to do it. Especially when the things you’re doing are—” she looked for the right words “—not right.”
Kasumi straightened her back and nodded, agreeing with Tamaya. Evander tilted his head to one side while raising one eyebrow, and Hugh fought the impulse of doing it too.
“What?” he asked instead. “Tamaya, what are—”
“I’m talking about the fucking execution of Nova McLain,” she blurred out. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
Evander growled and put his feet on the table, leaning in the chair he was sat on. He was so confused by Tamaya’s reaction he didn’t even bother to take the time to tell Evander to sit like an adult for once in his life.
“What does that have anything to do with what we’re discussing right now?” he exclaimed.
“It has everything to do with what we’re discussing right now!” she answered. “You, and you—” she pointed at Evander, and Evander pointed at himself, confused “—decided that, since you were too afraid of a spoiled girl ‘ruining’—” she made quotes in the air “—our reputation we were going to let her kill, in front the entire city, a child. A child, guys! A child who probably had parents who worried about her, just like you, Hugh, worry about your kids, or you, Evander, will worry about yours when they are born. Would you like them to be publicly executed without a proper trial just because the adults that were supposed to protect them, acted as the children in the situation?”
But before Hugh could tell her his kids would never act like Nightmare, more than comfortable with the idea of pretending as if the whole Max and Adrian situation hadn't happened, he heard it again.
But this time it was not a quiet chuckle.
This time, Evander was shamelessly chucking so loud, it almost sounded like a burst of laughter.
Tamaya was talking about Nova McLain’s situation and Evander was chuckling.
“Child?” he asked, trying to contain his laughs. “Nightmare is not a child. Children do not do the things she did. Children don’t try to overthrow—” he turned his hands into fists and glanced up to the ceiling for a couple of seconds, and then added, to no one in particular “—Children do not try to kill other children. She wouldn’t have tried to kill Max, or Adrian, or his team if she were truly a child because she would see herself in them. That’s just how things work.”
Inside his head, maybe.
But Evander had a lot of things inside his head and most of them were so twisted Hugh couldn’t tell what he truly believed and what he did not.
“Genissa Clark is nineteen,” Tamaya reminded him. “And Nightmare, as far as we know, it’s sixteen. They’re still children.”
Evander rolled his eyes, smirking for a microsecond. “Age doesn’t matter. What matters is this—” he tapped his temple “—the head.”
Out twisted and merciless heads.
“If they act like adults, they deserve to be treated as adults.”
“No,” Kasumi said, playing with her fingers. “No, they don’t deserve that. They don’t deserve anything that happened to them. Children…” she raised her head “children are never to blame.”
But, instead of looking back at her, Evander rolled his eyes once more and crossed his arms.
Like the child he still was even if he always acted he was not.
“They may not be kids anymore, but, stars, you’re acting like one,” Hugh quipped.
He immediately put his feet on the floor and his jaw clenched. “I’m no longer nine years old, Hugh.”
Yes.
Yes, you are.
You’ve done nothing to prove me wrong.
Hugh didn’t have the opportunity to say anything though, because Kasumi put herself between Hugh and Evander once again, with her hands in her hips, and clearly said, “I wasn’t going to attend the execution.”
He froze. “You what?”
“Neither was I,” seconded Tamaya.
Hugh gazed at them, without being able to recognize their faces behind that proud expression they had all over them. “Why the fuck not?”
Kasumi scowled and rubbed the fingers of her right hand as if she wanted to snap them but didn’t, closing her eyes and keeping her head low. Tamaya instantly noticed that, and after throwing a quick attentive glance at her, her eyes bared into him.
“Because it was a monstrous and villainous thing to do,” she answered, barely opening her lips. “And the Renegades are not that.” She put her hand on her chest. “I’m not a villain, and I’m sure as hell I’m not a monster either. And I’ve spent too much time hating myself to let you or anyone allow those toxic thoughts to win.”
He looked over Tamaya’s shoulder to have a clearer vision of Kasumi. “And you? You agree with this?”
“Leave her her alo—”
“Yes, I agree,” Kasumi answered, without opening her eyes.
That was enough for him.
“So— are you insinuating I am a monster and a villain?” and he put his hand on his chest, the same way Tamaya had just done.
Kasumi stopped rubbing her fingers and saw him out of the corner of her eye.
“Take it as you want to take it,” Tamaya declared, crossing her arms. “I’m not surprised you’re trying to make it about yourself.”
“You know what? Yes!” he barked. “This is about me! I’m the one who's getting totally dragged right now, I’m the one you're criticizing, and I’m the one who’s getting attacked by all of you!” and he pointed at the three of them. “So yeah, this is about me, Tamaya, not about you!”
As soon as he said it, he knew what was coming next. He knew what Tamaya was going to do. She was going to spread her wings, close her fists, and get a lighting bolt for her to throw at him. Then, she would get so close to him, he would see the anger glowing in her eyes, and she would proceed to yell at Hugh for five minutes nonstop, and when Kasumi or Evander was able to make her keep quiet for an instant, he would start yelling back at her, and they would get trapped in an endless cycle, where neither of them knew when to shut their mouths and give up.
And he knew it because there had been times where the only thing the two of them did was fight, and yell, and try to silence the other by making sure one’s screams were louder than the other’s.
However, Tamaya didn’t do any of that.
Tamaya’s mouth fell open and was unable to say a single word while she stepped back, and leaned against the table because she wasn’t able to sit in a chair without feeling extremely uncomfortable.
Her silence was worse than her screaming.
He needed to fill the silence in one way or another.
“Why won’t you listen to me anymore?” he asked the rest. “Why don't you respect me, or my privacy, or my decisions? Do you think it’s easy? Do you think it’s easy to have this weight on my shoulders?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “No, it’s not. But I man up, I shut my mouth, and do it, you know why? Because we stopped playing superheroes a long time ago, and now we’re governors, and I don’t want us to fail, which is something the Anarchists would love to see—” he extended his arms, like pointing at the rest of the world, when in reality, he was just pointing at the small room that seemed even smaller than before “—Tell me, do you want us to fail?”
This time, he did want an answer. He did give them the time to respond, but they didn’t take it. Tamaya stayed in complete silence, Kasumi started rubbing her fingers again, and Evander just turned redder and redder with each word he said.
“Do you want us to fail?!” he insisted. “DO YOU?!”
Still, no answers.
“You don’t, do you?! YOU DON’T!”
Silence.
Silence and Kasumi covering her ear with her fists.
“YOU DON’T! So—” he pointed at Evander, “—man up—” at Tamaya, “shut your mouth—” at Kasumi, “and listen to me!” And finally, at himself. “Because I am your leader! I AM YOUR CAPTAIN! AND YOU’LL DO AS I SAY!”
His yelling immediately was cut short by the sound of the tap of the water turning on savagely and the screeching sound of Kasumi asking:
“WELL, WHO MADE YOU CAPTAIN?!”
The water in the room started to go crazy. Not only the taps had opened, but also her drink was spilled all over the floor, small drops started to float around them, and the water inside the cooler became a strange swirl, that with each passing second just turned faster and faster.
And Kasumi was crying.
Or something like that.
It was water. They seemed like tears, but they were actually water that was coming out of her eyes, without any emotions in them. Her face, which at this point was soaked, didn’t change at all, as if it had changed if she were really crying.
Still, Hugh felt it like a slap across his face.
Evander was the first one to react. “Kasumi—”
“WHO MADE YOU OUR LEADER?!” she rasped. “WHO, HUGH?” and she grabbed him by the shoulders “WHO?”
The floor started to flood. Tamaya got on the table and moved her eyes from one side of the room to the other, trying to process what was going on in front of her, while Evander stood up in the chair he was sitting on. “Kasumi Hasegawa—”
“IT WAS US!” she answered, letting go of him and stepping back. “IT WAS US AND WE CAN TAKE YOU OFF THAT POSITION AS EASY AS WE PUT YOU THERE! SO CUT. THE. CRAP!”
“Zoomie!”
The cooler felt down on its side. If Tamaya hadn’t moved slightly to the left, it would have hit one of her wings. The sound of the heavy metallic object crashing against the floor was enough to make everyone in the room go quiet, and their eyes fixated on the water that was coming out of it.
Like blood in an open wound.
He was the last one to come back to reality, after the water started to disappear right in front of his eyes, and realized Kasumi was manipulating it to form a small wave that she dropped in the sink.
She closed the taps and sighed.
“You’re… you’re not acting like a leader right now,” she mumbled, leaning against the sink without looking at him. “You’re… you’re acting like… like—”
“Like what?” he asked.
As if he wanted to hear the answer to it.
“I don’t know— You’re just…” Kasumi turned around and the water running down her face was actual tears this time. There was no sadness clouding her features that was able to hide that fact. “You’re just not my friend.”
She looked at her own feet while walking towards her the things that remained on the floor. Tamaya grabbed the plastic cup of water she had been drinking from, and even though she took it (because Kasumi liked to reuse those things) she didn’t say thank you or acknowledge her gesture, and instead, kept talking to Hugh.
“We’re not your sidekicks. We’re not even your coworkers or your employees. We are your family. We are all a family. But somehow— you forgot it.”
She grabbed her small fabric bag and started to put all her things in there, with the rest of them quietly watching her, without daring to get close.
“I’m going to ask the three of you, but especially you, Hugh, to leave me alone.”
Before Kasumi left the room, Evander got down from the chair and rushed to her. She stopped in her tracks and pressed her bag against her chest. A small tear started to come out of the corner of her eye and her lower lip trembled. He extended his hand to wipe away her tears, and Hugh suddenly felt the urge to look away.
Until Kasumi stepped back, rubbed her eyes with one hand, and mumbled: “I said the three of you. Please, respect my decision, Evander.”
Kasumi walked out of the room, without closing the door behind her. Evander followed her, but stopped right under the door frame, grabbing to it. He glanced at Tamaya, and she, almost imperceptibly, shook her head saying no to something he was silently asking her.
His eyes didn’t well up. Instead, after a blink, they turned to see Hugh, burning and glimmering an emotion he could not describe as something else but hate.
His eyes were burning and glimmering with hate.
And his words too.
“This is all your fault.”
He walked in the opposite direction Kasumi went.
I know.
This is all my fault.
“Kasumi was right, you know?”
Tamaya was the only one remaining.
“You have acted like the biggest idiot that has ever existed,” she continued. “I don’t know how you’re going to fix this and I don’t know how you’re going to fix yourself.” Her expression dulled and she slightly bent down to try to look him in the eye. “But we are your family. And you are ours.”
Hugh ignored her attempts to make eye contact and felt his hands getting moist and hot under his gloves.
But he couldn’t decide if tell her or not, because Tamaya sighed, grabbed the rest of her lunch, and without turning to see him, sentenced:
“Talk to us when you start acting like it.”
And just like that, Hugh was left alone in an empty room, again.
***
Everything had started two months ago.
It wasn’t like there weren’t somedays where they didn’t have sex. After all, they were part of the Renegades Council. The days were long, and there were occasions when they just arrived at the house and went directly to bed, without eating dinner or anything.
Despite that, they had managed to keep a certain schedule. And if he wanted to be completely honest, those days when he could have a little time alone with Simon were the best.
Until they weren’t.
“What’s going on?” Simon asked suddenly.
“Huh?”
“What’s going on?” Simon asked again.
He wasn’t mad at all. He was genuinely concerned.
It was… adorable. So Simon.
“Everything all right?”
Hugh knew something was wrong. But he felt a little bit embarrassed about backing down with something he had started.
Which was… weird.
Because nothing was embarrassing with Simon.
“Hugh—”
“I think I’m no longer in the mood to keep going,” he blurred out.
Simon’s eyes widened. He licked his lips, like he did every time he was analyzing a situation, and smirked. “You aren’t in the mood? You? You, Hugh Everhart, aren't in the mood for sex?”
Hugh couldn’t laugh at the stupid face he had made. “No.”
Luckily, Simon noticed that. “Oh. All right. Well, don’t worry, love. It’s okay.”
“I’m so—”
“No, don’t be sorry,” he interrupted him, using the same tone Hugh used all the time when they were younger to tell Simon not to be sorry. “There’s no need to apologize.” He ran his hand through his hair and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “I’m just— going to the bathroom—” he grabbed the pile of clothes he had left on the nightstand “—I won’t take long.”
Hugh couldn’t tell if he took long or not. He just put on his clothes again too and got under the covers. He didn’t even turn around when Simon asked him, “Do you wanna be the little spoon tonight?”
He was never the little spoon. But he accepted anyway.
There were a lot of other nights that ended up that way. Nights that Hugh started something just to follow the schedule, things that they never finished because Simon always noticed something was wrong and said they should stop. Then, he kissed him, told him there was nothing to be sorry about, went to the bathroom to change, and went back to be the big spoon.
Until one day, Hugh fell asleep in a position that didn’t allow Simon to cuddle with him. Or at least he pretended to fall asleep to avoid any questions as if why he didn’t want to cuddle that night.
He couldn’t avoid any questions the next morning though.
When he went downstairs to have breakfast, Simon was waiting for him in the kitchen.
“Glad you’re here so early,” Simon said. “We need to talk.”
It was Saturday. Simon was wearing his cotton rob and had prepared an avocado toast and a cup of coffee.
Just the mere fact of him drinking coffee, plus the “We need to talk” phrase, was a bad sign. Not only because Simon got really anxious when he didn’t control how much coffee he drank, but also because the last time he had told him they needed to talk, was when he found some not very family-friendly videos on the family’s computer and thought that it would be better if he asked Hugh if they were his first because he didn’t want to accidentally introduce Adrian to that kind of… audiovisuals.
Stars…
That day had been one of the worst days of his life. And Hugh had fought a civil war. The bar for “bad days” was pretty high, but Adrian still managed to go higher than that.
“What did he do now?”
“Oh, God, no— Adrian’s clean. He’s still sleeping, actually,” Simon responded, completely aware of what Hugh was talking about. “But that’s why I want to talk to you before he comes.”
Hugh felt a little bit less tense. A little bit.
He took the coffee pot and started pouring it on the first cup he found. “What do you wanna talk about?”
Simon drummed the fingers of his right hand on the bar and scratched his beard with his left hand, staring at his unfinished breakfast. “Love… are you having problems?”
“Problems?” he scoffed. “What kind of problems?”
“Oh, you know… problems… down there.”
He lost focus and he poured the coffee on his hand. “Shit—”
“Look, it’s just that I think it’s kind… strange what has been going on these last days,” Simon said without noticing the whole coffee situation. “We— we had a schedule, and now we don’t, and I’m not mad at all, I just want to know if there’s something more to it.”
Hugh left the coffee pot where it belonged and Simon kept talking.
“You should— we should go to see a doctor,” he whispered. “I know you have never had an appointment with a doctor before, but we could… I don’t know, ask around, until you find one that makes you feel comfortable.”
And he would have probably kept talking if he hadn’t interrupted.
“It’s more common than you may think, you know,” he assured him. “And there’s nothing wrong with it. Everyone once in a while has— you know, some kind difficulties, or it hurts, or—”
“No.”
Simon suddenly went silent. “No what?”
“Nothing hurts,” he answered. “I literally cannot feel pain, remember?”
“Oh, no, I mean, of course I remember,” Simon mumbled. “It was— it was just an expression.”
Hugh frowned. “I’ve never heard that expression before.”
Neither of them said anything for an uncomfortable amount of time, while Hugh stirred his coffee with a plastic spoon and Simon pretended he was really focused on his breakfast.
“You didn’t answer my question though,” he said after a while. “Are you having any kind of problems?”
Hugh gave him the same answer. “No.”
“All right. I believe you. And I trust you. You know I’ll always trust you, don’t you?”
When Simon said he trusted him, Hugh usually responded to him saying he trusted him back. But this time, he said, “As you should.”
At that moment, Adrian walked into the dining room, letting them know their conversation had come to an end.
Hurting.
What a strange word.
He couldn’t comprehend it. And he’d never liked things that he couldn’t comprehend.
Nevertheless, even if he had lived his whole life hating things he couldn’t comprehend, now he didn’t understand why he felt so attacked by the way Simon formulated his question. The rational part of him knew he had no intention of making him angry, but his emotional side got angry at him anyway. He got so angry, he dedicated the rest of the day to ignore him.
And things didn’t change after that conversation. They just got worse.
So much worse.
Hugh didn’t even bother anymore to make the first move. He slept turning his back on Simon, so he could make clear he didn’t want to be touched at that moment. But sometimes, Simon didn’t understand (or pretended he didn’t understand) his signals, and asked him in a thousand different ways if that was going to be the night everything was going back to normal.
“How are you feeling, love? Are you better now?”
“How about we try something new today?”
“Hugh, are you awake?”
“Hugh, love, please… answer me”
But Hugh never answered him. Not with anything else but “Fine”, “Other day”, “No”, or just silence. Because sometimes silence counted as an answer.
And sometimes it was the loudest of sounds.
He was already ready for bed. He had brushed his teeth, had put on his pajamas, and had gone downstairs to make sure Adrian was still breathing, being especially careful not to wake him up.
Fifteen minutes had passed since that, and he was still standing up next to the bed, without feeling like getting in yet.
Then, he realized they hadn’t made the bed since the day of the fight. The coverlet was almost touching the ground and the pillows were everywhere except where they were supposed to be. He felt a strange energy going through his body, that ordered him to get closer and start making the bed.
No one liked to sleep on an unmade bed anyways.
However, the moment he started doing that, he made the mistake of graving Simon’s pillow. And Simon’s pillow made the mistake of smelling just like him, and the smell of mint, fabric softener, hit and the citrus body lotion he used was so intense, it made him feel, even if it was for a couple of seconds as if Simon were there.
That feeling lasted, at least, five seconds. And when he tried to smile, he started crying.
Because that pillow wasn’t Simon. Because Simon was not there.
Because Simon had left. He really left.
Without letting go of the pillow, he sat on the cold and hard floor. His elbows accidentally hit the nightstand he had next to his side of the bed, making the lamp and the couple of glasses he never returned to the kitchen tremble a little, but he wouldn’t have cared less if they fell to the floor and broken.
It wasn’t like they could cut him or anything.
He smelled the pillow one more time, and it was more than enough to make Simon’s ghost appear a couple of feet away from him, with empty eyes and a serious face, asking the same questions over and over again.
Why don’t you ever touch me anymore?
Why am I always invisible to you, even when I’m not?
Why are you so fucking cold all the time?
Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?!
“Because I don't even know what is wrong with me,” he finally answered.
Simon’s ghost didn’t ask what he meant. After all, even if he did and Hugh answered him, he wouldn’t have understood.
In fact, he knew Simon hoped he never would.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t attracted to Simon anymore. No, it was not that. For him, Simon was the most perfect man he had ever seen in his whole life. He loved his voice, soft like velvet. He loved his hands touching his skin. He loved his eyes that looked at him with adoration, and he loved his body, toned and covered in body hair, that used to make Simon feel self-conscious, but that Hugh had always found really appealing and he made sure to remind him that in every opportunity he had.
Simon had not a single flaw because he was perfect for him.
But when the darkness filled the room and he stretched out his hand to touch him…
It was like something fell upon him. Something so heavy and so big, he couldn’t get rid of it, not even using his powers at their maximum capacities. It didn’t let him move, it didn’t let him speak, and the only thing he could do was to soldier on, praying to a God he wasn’t sure it existed, asking him to please take that weight off him when the sun came out because if he didn’t do it, Hugh would have been capable of staying there for the rest of his days.
Completely still. Without any strength to move his head or change into a more comfortable position. Letting his body get all dusty as if he were part of one of those sets of furniture that they kept in the guest’s rooms that were never used because no one visited them, other than the rest of the Council.
Now, he didn’t know if it was God the one that took that weight off him, but he did know that as soon as the sun started to come out, the weight became lighter and lighter until it finally disappeared and Hugh was able to move again. He dusted off his whole body, prepared to go to the Headquarters, and put on his best face to convince others (and himself) that he wasn’t tired at all.
It had been a long time since the last time Hugh was able to sleep comfortably. He would say it was something that affected him even before his whole… situation with Simon. It had been going on for years. Adrian was still a kid when it all started.
“You should pop some pills or something,” Evander told Hugh when he dared to look a little bit more tired than normal. “You know— to help you sleep.” He clicked his tongue. “After the Day of Triumph, I began to take some sleeping pills, and they helped me a lot.” But before Hugh could ask him why he needed to take sleeping pills, Evander grabbed the folder where the documents he had asked him for and walked to the door, not without patting him on the shoulder first. “Maybe they can help you too.”
There was no need to say Hugh didn’t listen to him. Not only because Evander’s advice wasn’t always the best advice someone could receive, but also because there was something about taking pills he didn’t like at all.
Besides that, it wasn’t like Hugh could take any pill he wanted. They needed to have a strong effect or he would have to take more than one at a time. And Simon already needed to take pills to help him control his anxiety and went to therapy every two weeks.
He hated to say it, but it was a lot of money. It was not worthy. Simon had it worse than him, he needed those pills and those therapy sessions.
Hugh didn’t.
So, yeah, he didn’t listen to Evander. Neither did he listen to Kasumi when she gave him the same recommendation, and couldn’t contain his laugh when she suggested he should do some yoga. He also got into a big fight with Tamaya when she pointed out something was wrong with him, even though the reason that made her think that was that Hugh had broken one of the cupboard doors and was going around looking for something to eat without noticing at all he had destroyed his perfectly designed kitchen.
As time went by, going to sleep became like playing Russian roulette. He never knew if that night he was going to be able to go to sleep or not, but it wasn't like sleeping made a huge difference because each morning he woke up feeling tired anyway.
Probably, the only difference between sleeping or not, was that when he didn’t, when he stayed up all night, all he could see were ghosts.
During his childhood years, Adrian developed a huge fear of ghosts. Adrian was afraid of so many things Hugh couldn’t name each and every one of them, but he did know ghosts were very high on the list. He woke up in the middle of the night all the time, and the most common excuse he gave for his behavior, was that he was afraid the ghosts of the people who were murdered in that house would suddenly start hunting him.
Hugh didn’t believe in ghosts and he didn’t think Adrian should do it either. But when he started to see his own ghosts, he stopped complaining each time Adrian woke him up, asking him, “Daddy, can I sleep in your bed tonight?”
Of course, he didn’t see the same ghosts Adrian thought he saw. Hugh’s ghosts were completely different.
Sometimes, it was a man, who despite his young age, he appeared to have lived a thousand years. He had deep circles under his blue eyes and the saddest smile it had ever existed. Occasionally, he was accompanied by a woman, with long and dark hair, who carried in her arms a chubby and loud baby that cried each time she felt her mom wasn’t close enough to her. And most of the times, they also brought with them a little girl, that got between the sheets at the same time Adrian did, and that each time he got closer to Hugh to ask him if he could cuddle him until he fell asleep, he felt as if he were hugging the dead body of that tormented soul, asking him why he didn’t arrive on time.
Hugh didn’t like other people’s kids. Especially if those kids liked to meddle in his business.  
So one of those nights, he locked the door. That way, no ghost was going to enter his room.
And neither would Adrian.
That night, he was starting to kind of fall asleep, after spending hours looking at the window, when he heard a couple of small hands trying to open the bedroom’s door. For a second, they stopped, trying to process why it wasn’t opening as it should. Then, they tried again. When they failed a third time, Adrian started bawling.
Simon woke up immediately.
But Hugh wasn't surprised at all.
“Adrian…” he mumbled. “Adrian, hold on, I’m coming!”
He removed the covers so quickly, he punched Hugh on the face, waking him up completely. He tried to open the door the same way Adrian previously did, but the panic he was feeling at that moment didn’t allow him to process why the door wasn’t opening, and just made his anxiety levels go to the roof.
“Hugh… Hugh, the door,” he mumbled. “The door’s— the door’s not opening, help.”
But he didn’t help.
Not because he didn’t want to. He wanted to help him. He wanted to tell him to calm down, and that the door was just locked.
But there was something on the sound of Adrian’s cries and the way Simon called his name that made the weight on his chest start to choke him.
Really choke him.
“Hugh! The door, please.”
“DADDY! DADDY, LET ME IN, DADDY, LET ME IN!”
“Aren’t you listening to me?! Wake up! Wake up and help me, Hugh!”
“LET ME IN, DADDY, PLEASE!”
“Hold on just a second, darling,” Simon squeezed. “Hold on just a second— HUGH, FOR FUCK’S SAKE, COME HERE AND HELP ME!”
“DA— DADDY, PLE— AAAAH!”
First, he heard something getting violently hit. Then, complete silence. And finally, Adrian started crying again.
When Simon turned on the lights, Hugh was able to turn around to see what was happening.
Apparently, Simon had kicked the door down, and Adrian had been fast enough to get away from it before it punched him in the face...
Bit he still got hit on the forehead pretty hard.
“Oh, Adrian, dar—”
“DADDY! POPS HIT ME! HE HIT ME!”
“DARLING, I SWEAR IT WAS AN ACCIDENT, FORGIVE ME!”
Hugh rubbed his eyes, annoyed at the sudden change of light in the room. He noticed Adrian was wearing the blue pajamas Kasumi had brought him during his ninth birthday and was holding the Baby Indomitable blanket.
The blanket she had made for him.
Simon kneeled in front of Adrian and grabbed him by the cheeks. “We need to take him to the hospital,” he said. His eyes were all watery and his voice broke. “We need to take him to the hospital,” he repeated with more emphasis. When Hugh didn’t respond, his worried expression turned into one of pure angriness. “Fuck, Hugh, why did you lock the door? WHY DID YOU LOCK THE FUCKING DOOR, HUH? WHY?”
For some reason, the weight that was suffocating him decided that was a good moment to let go of his throat for a second, just for him to give Simon a reason why. And the only thing that came out of his mouth was:
“Adrian is too old to be sleeping with us every night.”
Adrian started bawling again, and Simon realized going to the hospital was going to take too much time, so he took his son in his arms, and went downstairs to call Tamaya’s husband, Owen, the only doctor they truly trusted.
When Simon got out of the room, he didn’t turn off the lights. Hugh got up to do that, but in the end, decided it would be more appropriate to go with his husband and kid, in case they needed anything.
In the kitchen, Simon was holding Adrian with one arm and holding the phone next to his ear with the other. After a long wait, he hung up, ready to start yelling and punching the first thing (or person) he saw.
Luckily, the first one who noticed Hugh was there, was Adrian.
He had a big bump on his forehead.
“Give him to me,” Hugh whispered. Simon (who was dialing the phone one more time) doubted for a second but finally accepted. “How are you feeling?”
“My head hurts,” Adrian whispered.
There it was again. That word.
He sat him on the kitchen bar. “Of course it does, buddy. Do you want some juice?”
Adrian nodded. “Can I have apple juice?” he shyly asked.
Hugh looked for it inside the fridge. “We only have strawberry juice,” he said.
“I like strawberry juice too.”
“Good.”
He took two strawberry juice cartons and gave him one. At that moment, Simon pointed at the phone with a hopeful and scared expression, and said, “Tamaya, I almost ripped Adrian’s head off, I need your husband.”
While a really confused Tamaya asked Simon what the hell did he mean with almost ripping Adrian’s head off, Hugh sat down on one of the stools, right in front of his son. He had his legs crossed and was drinking his juice, moving his head as if he were listening to a happy melody.
“... and accidently hit him with the door,” Simon said to the phone. For his change of tone, Hugh could tell he was talking to Owen too (he knew Tamaya well enough to know she was still listening to everything that was going on after putting the phone on speaker). “No, he didn’t lose consciousness, he just… cried a lot… he’s—um, actually kind of hungry right now. Yeah, he’s… he’s drinking some juice. Um… let’s see— Adrian, darling.” Adrian turned around to see him. “Do you know what day it is?”
“Um… Sunday.”
“Great job—” he returned his attention to the call “—He doesn't seem disoriented either.”
Hugh paid a little bit more attention to the nasty bump Adrian had on his head. He didn’t dare to touch it for fear of hurting him more, but a part of him remembered having seen someone wrapping a bag of frozen peas on an old cloth and putting it on the injured area.
So he did that too. He just changed the bag of frozen peas with the strawberry juice carton.
“Can I drink that one too?” Adrian asked, chuckling slightly.  
Hugh smiled at him. “No, you can’t. Too much sugar.”
And when Adrian laughed again, he remembered where he had learned that piece of medical advice.
And he stopped smiling.
“Ice? Just… just ice?” Simon asked Owen, incredulous. His gaze met Hugh’s. “It seems like… Hugh already did that. Are you sure that’s all he needs? And can he go to sleep? Sure? He’s not gonna— no, but… Tamaya, please, let the doctor speak— ok, there’s no need to talk to me like that, I’m sensitive, all right? When you hit your kid with a door, you'll understand my concern.”
After Owen and Tamaya were able to calm Simon down, he hung up the phone. “Well, Adrian, Owen says you’re fine,” he said a little bit less shaken up than before. “And Tamaya is not invited to next week’s party.” Adrian chuckled again. “Let’s get you to bed.”
Simon carried Adrian all the way to his room. Hugh followed them closely, and stayed at the door, listening to his son asking his dad if they could sleep with him that night.
“You’re not too old to sleep with me anyways,” he assured.
Simon looked at Hugh, but he was so far away, he couldn’t tell what he was trying to communicate with his eyes.
If he was trying to communicate anything at all.
There was nothing Simon could say though; it still didn’t seem right for him to sleep in the same bed as Adrian that night.
After all, he had been the one that locked him out of his room when he needed him the most. Adrian was asking for his dad (or “daddy”, like he called him at that age), and he had not reacted immediately after hearing his first cries.
And to make matters worse, he hadn't bought apple juice, even if he knew it was Adrian’s favorite.
Hugh felt like the worst parent on the planet.
Simon was the one who stayed with Adrian that night. Hugh told him the three of them wouldn’t fit in the same bed anyway. Adrian wasn’t that convinced by that answer, but as soon as Simon kissed the top of his head, he seemed a lot happier than before.
He wasn’t able to sleep that night. Not because it was the first time in forever he slept on a bed all by himself, not at all.
It was actually the opposite.
Because from that moment on, two things happened: first, each time Adrian woke up in the middle of the night and went to their bedroom, Simon grabbed him by the hand and together went back to Adrian’s room, where Simon slept on the same bed as his son, and Adrian cried until he fell asleep. And second, after that night, a new ghost joined in. It was no longer the man with blue eyes, or the mother and her loud baby, nor it was the little girl who made too many questions for her own good.
It was her, whose smile could light up the darkest of rooms. Her, whose laugh he heard everywhere, without actually hearing it. Her, who sometimes made him think was seeing her through their son’s eyes, and her who, when no one else was there for him, hugged him from behind and assured him everything was going to work out at the end of the day because there was no force on the universe that was able to take down Lady Indomitable and Captain Chromium.
But she had been wrong.
Like the night after that mission.
It probably had been an unimportant mission, because Hugh could no longer remember what it was about. He just remembered he had planned it and it had failed. They were not able to get what they wanted and the bad guys won. Also, all the members of the team had gotten hurt in some way or another. For example, Simon was left temporarily deaf on one ear after a big explosion and his right hand had first degree burns. Kasumi had been able to avoid getting burned by using her powers to make a kind of water dome around her, but she still got her knees all scraped when she tried to run and fell, and when he said scraped, he meant really scraped. Tamaya wanted to electrocute one of those guys by herself when they tried to take Evander by grabbing him by the leg in a way she didn’t like at all, and even if she did leave all of them unconscious, both still got deep cuts on their hands and arms.
When they arrived, the house became a hospital, where she was the one and the only doctor, because she didn’t get hurt that much and was able to move around without bleeding to death or something.
Hugh also helped her take care of everyone’s injuries (and to calm down Simon when he started panicking about the whole “I CANNOT LIVE MY LIFE ONLY HEARING WITH ONE EAR” thing.) But he wasn’t as good as a doctor as she was, even if he was the designated nurse when one of them got sick of something that may be contagious. That’s why he limited himself to passing her the bandages, towels, and anything she needed, without complaining or giving his unsolicited advice like he constantly did with everyone except her.
After they were finished attending everyone, they decided to go to sleep. Hugh didn’t feel like sleeping that night though, so he went to the roof, thinking he was probably going to stay there until the morning came, to be able to get in bed again and pretend like he had been there the whole night.
However, someone did notice he was gone.
“Do you mind if I join you?”
She was flying a couple of inches above the ground and was wearing her pajamas and a little blanket as a cape, to cover herself from the cold wind.
With one hand, she was holding a bag of frozen peas wrapped in an old rag and put it on the small bump she had got when she got hit during that night’s mission.
Hugh just nodded, and she sat beside him, sighing.
They stayed in complete silence, and when he was about to ask her if he could help her with anything, she asked him:
“Where does it hurt, Hugh?”
“What?”
“Where does it hurt?” she asked again.
“No, I heard you the first time,” he answered. “It’s just—”
Just what?
But Georgie didn’t ask him that.
“I know it may not… physically hurt,” she explained herself after realizing he was not going to finish that sentence, leaving the bag of frozen peas on her lap. “But I also know there are a lot of ways someone can be hurting, and those wounds that are on the inside, are as important as the wounds we can see on the outside—” she grabbed his hand, and gently took him by the cheek to make sure he saw her in the eyes.
He would recognize those eyes everywhere.
“Why does it matter?” he asked her softly.
“Because… you’re very strong, Hugh,” she answered caressing his cheek. “Very, very strong. But maybe, if you tell me exactly what’s going on inside your head, we can find a way to cure your pain together. Because we’re in this together. You don’t have to do it alone. Not again. Not ever again.”
She closed her eyes, and he pressed his forehead against hers, looking at their hands, holding each other like their life depended on it.
“So tell me… where does it hurt?”
He didn’t answer the question; but he remembered it was the first time in forever he cried in front of someone who wasn’t Simon. He wasn’t even sure why he was crying and his memories about that moment were blurry as if it had been a dream. What he did remember very vividly was that she didn’t judge him at all or made him like his feelings didn’t matter. On the contrary, she stayed there as long as he needed, crying with him, until he was able to calm down again, and asked her if she wanted to go back inside. She didn’t think twice and accepted. After returning the frozen peas to the freezer, they pushed together the two couches they had in the living room, covered themselves with the small blanket she had brought with her and cuddled until they fell asleep.
From that moment on, it became more common for them to cuddle together. She was always cuddling with everyone, even with Tamaya and Simon, who were the ones with more difficulties accepting physical affection from others. But not even them could refuse her hugs, and her kisses, and her not so uncommon tickles, which Evander and Kasumi loved. Hugh couldn’t help but notice though, he was the one she hugged, kissed and tickled the most, even after she had Adrian and had to share her love with one person more, that probably needed it more than him.
And he loved to be her favorite.
Well— her second favorite. Adrian went first.
He just wished he had hugged her, kissed her, and tickled her more. She was always the one who looked for him, but he rarely looked for her to show her physical affection.
Hugh didn’t look for her at all. Not even when she disappeared.
He didn’t even know why.
He didn’t know anything.
But he did know that she had been wrong when she told him he was strong.
If he were truly strong, he would have protected her, like he had promised her he would do thousands and thousands of times.
If he were truly strong, he would have been the one that was there when the Artinos needed the Renegades, and he would have stopped the hitman Ace Anarchy sent to end them.
If he were truly strong and death had come after him the same way it came after her, he would have survived the fall.
Because he always did.
Because it was not possible for him to get hurt.
It was not her fault she hadn’t survived though. She wasn’t built that way. While Hugh was made mostly of chromium, Georgia Rawles was made of flesh, bones, blood, but mainly, she was made of love, and sometimes, love could be indestructible, but other times, it could also be fragile.
Very fragile.
It didn’t matter how strong she was.
Oh, because she was strong. She was really strong. She had the kind of strength his superpowers couldn’t give him, and that was the one that was going to change the world they lived in.
Georgia Rawles was so strong, she kept her cool when things were going to hell.
Georgia Rawles was so strong, she raised a child in the middle of a world ruled by anarchy, and was the best mother that child could ask for.
Georgia Rawles was so strong, she became the face people saw when they thought about hope, and didn’t let her beautiful heart to be changed by the obstacles life threw at her, no matter how horrible they were.
And it hadn’t been her fault she died. She didn’t fail anyone, not even the Artinos.
No. The one who had failed the Artinos, the one who had failed her, had been Hugh.
He should have been the one who died that night. He should be dead and buried, and she should be there, alive, with her son and her family, living in the world she had made a better place.
A world he didn’t feel he deserved.
Suddenly, a couple of familiar white boots appeared a couple of inches in front of him. He tried to convince himself not to look up, but his curiosity was bigger than his fear, even if he already knew who it was because she appeared every night after the door incident. It was Georgie’s ghost, just that this time, she was holding Simon’s hand. Her golden cape had not a single drop of blood and looked like new. She was wearing her whole superhero uniform but without her mask, so he had a clear view of her whole face. She let go of Simon for a second, and tried to walk towards Hugh, without taking her eyes away from him.
She didn’t even have to talk to let him know what she was trying to say.
Georgie was trying to remember him the good things his world had. He had raised two brilliant and kind sons who were his pride and joy, even when they weren’t in their best behavior. He had a friend who felt like an older sister, that fiercely loved him and the rest and had always done even when she was still learning how to love herself for the good, chaotic, intelligent, and beautiful person she was. He had another friend who, on the other hand, felt like a younger sister, and whose gestures, voice, and movements were like the calm before the storm, but when it came the time to defend others or defend herself, she became the storm itself, ready to drown whoever dare to treat her in a way that didn’t fit the respect she deserved. He also had a friend, who felt like a little brother, that he had seen grow up since he was a kid that had to get on his tiptoes to high five him, and the memory of his smile, his laugh, and his jokes that sometimes seemed to be hidden behind that strange villainous mask he wore was enough for him not to hate him, even if he hated Hugh.
He had… or had had a husband too. A husband that made him feel like he was at home each time he saw him. A husband who laughed at all his jokes, even when they weren’t that funny, and made him fall in love with him all over again each time he opened that smart mouth of his. A husband whose personality, humor, and body perfectly fit his, because if Hugh had been made for someone, it had been for him. A husband who always chose him, above anything else, but when it came to the point Hugh had failed him so many times, he had no other option but to choose himself.
And it wasn’t like Hugh could blame him. Simon deserved to be happy. Simon deserved each and all of the good things that this world had to offer to him, even if one of those things wasn’t Hugh.
Suddenly, Georgie extended her hand towards him, but when she was about to touch him, an invisible and polarized wall suddenly got in her way.
It was the first time Hugh actually saw it.
It was something grey, hollow, and invisible, that was coming out of him like the chrome that was dripping from his fingers at that very moment.
But Georgie, being Georgie, didn't flinch when she saw that wall. Instead, she flew over his head to try to get in that way. Hugh was following her with his gaze and realized at the same time as her, that thing was not a simple wall that had the sole purpose of making him get away from the people he loved.
That thing, that grey, hollow, and invisible thing, was a shell that impeded the people he loved to get closer to Hugh.
And Georgie was stubborn. Probably as much or more stubborn that Hugh was, even if she constantly was acting as if she weren’t. First, she proved her luck by kicking the shell into letting her in. Then, she used all the force in her body to try to crack it open. She got so desperate that started using her fists, punching and screaming his name, calling him “darling”, and imploring him to hold on a little longer.
The thing was… the thing was he didn’t want her to do that.
He didn’t know what she was feeling, but each time she kicked, she punched and she screamed, Hugh felt like his body was hurting. Not from the outside in, like he had heard physical pain felt, but from inside out; it was a pain that didn’t limit itself to his chest area, and went through all his body. He felt it in his legs, his face, and his arms, and gave him the sudden need to scratch it away. However, the aching shell was pretty similar to the real world, in the sense that when he did it, when he scratched his body in order to make the pain stop some way or another, his skin, and therefore his pain, didn’t react to it. It was as if he hadn’t even moved or made the most minimal effort to help himself.
Please, Georgie.
Please stop.
Please, please...
Please.
Just give up.
So Georgie fell to her knees, leaving bloody marks of her hands all over the shell. The small body of a girl grabbed her by the arm as if she wanted to hug her the same way Adrian hugged Hugh when he had a nightmare. A woman put her hand on her shoulder and quickly soothed her baby before she even started crying. Then, the man of the family wrapped his arms around the four of them, with a fearful but determined expression, that only brave people like him had.
She had heard him. She had given up on him.
The same way Simon, who didn’t stop watching the whole scene, had.
The same way he himself had.
Georgie tried to make him understand one last time.
You live in a beautiful world.
But she was wrong again.
Not about the part of the world being beautiful; it was about the part of her thinking Hugh didn’t already know that.
He did know the world he lived in was beautiful because the people who were part of it made it that way.
However, each time a happy moment occurred or a tragedy knocked at the door, it was as if Hugh wasn’t able to experience the happiness or the sadness that he was supposed to feel. When they cried, they laughed, or they yelled at him, their sobs, their smiles, and their screams felt real, but when he tried to imitate them, he felt like something that had come out from another planet pretending to be a human. Even those tears he was crying now, were more of a way his mind had found to fill the hole he had on his chest, while it waited for that weight to come and take its place.
Not like it was going to matter though. When the sun came up, all those imaginary ghosts will disappear. All the tears he had cried will dry, and all the aching he had felt will turn into the deepest of numbness.
He laid his head on the floor and grasped Simon's pillow tightly.
The next morning, he would feel no pain, in the same way, he would feel no comfort because that was part of being born with the powers he had.
But was there any point in living if you couldn’t feel anything?
***
The answer to that question was about to come to him when he was standing in the Arena, actually tearing up, after both sides of the battle had suddenly ceased fire.
He wasn’t able to see his family in the middle of the chaos, but for some reason, that didn’t scare him at all. The five of them were competent and strong, and they probably were also looking for him, so it was a matter of time and keep looking for them.
Also, this chaos— this chaos was nothing compared to what the Age of Anarchy had been.
He had been alive during the Age of Anarchy. He had experienced on first hand the horrors and the violence of it and had felt like there was no alternative but to roll with it, even if it was painful, horrible, and made him feel hopeless and small.
But then, he met them.
He met them, and the five of them were so full of light that they turned him into light too. The six got together and were able to bring hope into a world that had already given up on people like them, and constantly told them to do the same.
But what they didn’t know was that their secret was not to give up on each other.
They never gave up on each other, not even when one of those lights was gone.
Maybe she never really went anywhere. Maybe she had always been there. Maybe she was on their monthly dinners, in the internal jokes they still shared after all these years, and in the small gestures that reminded them they still love each other and they were still all in this together.
And she would have loved to see them like that.
She had been right about him being strong. But that wasn’t going to be the reason why he was going to be able to end with this chaos and why the Renegades were going to win in the end one more time. He was going to win because she was right when she said he was not only strong, but he was also vibrant, wonderful, valid, and most importantly, he was right. He was right that this world was worth protecting because life was full of moments and people that he would have never met if he weren’t alive to do it in the first place.
Hugh was alive. He was alive and he still could do something about it, to fix what was in his power to fix, and one of those things was himself and the mistakes he had made. There was nothing wrong with accepting what he had done wrong and in becoming a better person, not for others, but for himself.
There was nothing wrong with being alive.
He asked himself again.
Is there any point in living if you can’t feel anything?
But the answer slipped through his fingers. Because he was about to say it out loud, when something grabbed him and dragged him out of that dream, woke him up, and made him realize he was trapped inside a nightmare.
The helmet fell off Callum Treadwell's hands, and he fell on his back, covering his wound and trying to stop the hemorrhage.
He didn’t even bother to try to stop them when they grabbed Ace Anarchy’s helmet. He also didn’t tremble when they assured all of them had fought bravely, but now it was time for them to know fear, and he barely moved as he saw them turned into a phantom creature and soared like a bird of prey while he made his way to his master to give him the key to gaining back all the power he had previously lost.
Instead, he looked at Wonder, who now was with Nightmare, and then looked at his own boots, who also had the blood of numerous people he probably didn’t know.  
Or he did.
Maybe it was his family’s blood.
With the thought in mind, he started searching for their faces in a crowd full of people looking for their loved ones while trying not to get killed in the process. He didn’t have a lot of time to do it though, because as soon as he thought he had seen Simon, the sound of shackles springing loudly reached his ears, followed by the same voice saying:
“Master of Anarchy, rise again, and let us watch them fall.”
As soon as Ace Anarchy started to float upward, the arena began to shake. His powers grabbed each piece of the structure they could find and were used against the few Renegades who were still trying to fight back. The stand he had been gazing at was yanked up from the floor, and Ace Anarchy hurled it at where he was standing.
He threw himself on the ground to dodge it, and then, he turned to see Ace, who was already gazing at him with a condescending grin on his face.
He hadn’t tried to kill him. But he hoped he had.
Actually, he hoped Ace Anarchy killed him right there, and that he did it fast.
Because that would be a lot much easier than whatever the hell he was supposed to do at that moment.
A pair of white boots tripped with Hugh’s body. He had to blink twice to make sure what he was seeing wasn’t a hallucination brought on by stress before turning to look at them and recognize Evander’s black superhero suit. At first, he thought he was going to say something like “Get up!” or “The fuck you’re doing on the ground?!” or a mixture of both, but instead, he just kicked the silver spear in his direction.
Hugh instantly grasped it. Evander gave him a small nod with the head before running towards Ace, and watching him getting closer and closer to him made something inside of Hugh move, giving him the strength he needed to get on his feet again and follow him.
As soon as he saw him throw a blinding strobe into Ace’s face, he knew what Evander wanted him to do.
Hugh took advantage of those few instants Ace gave them when he ducked his head and hurled his weapon at him.
Ace dodged it. Just for a few inches.
Hugh made eye contact with him.
Kill me.
Please.
Please.
Kill me. Right now.
And as if he had heard him, a grin appeared on his lips.
He directed the chains that had been used to contain the prisoners at what he thought it was him, and his whole body shriveled at the idea of their cold touch of the metal being the last thing his skin touched.
But Hugh had been wrong, and the chains wrapped Evander's torso and gagged his mouth.
He wanted to scream. He wanted to get on his knees and beg him to spare Evander's life. He wanted to go feral, throw himself at him, and kill him in a way that made sure he dragged both of them directly to the hell he had been told by Ace he was going to when he died, just to make sure he wouldn't hurt anyone else when he was no longer there to protect ones who were left. He wouldn't care that it wasn't heroic of him to ask his worst enemy to end his life on the verge of tears and with a broken voice because it would be even less heroic of him to let the younger member of his family die this way.
He couldn't bear to let another person die instead of him. He couldn't.
He wouldn't be able to take it.
He wasn't strong enough.
Hugh glanced at Evander one last time, to let him know everything would be fine and that he was going to be the one who took his place. But when he realized Evander hadn't taken his eyes away from him, and terror had overtaken his entire face, the words, the begging, and the crying stayed in his throat, now completely unable to come out.
Ace flicked his fingers.
And in a blink, Evander wasn't looking at him anymore.
His scream didn't sound like him. It made his throat hurt and his entire body feel cold.
No.
No, no, no, no.
It was supposed to be him.
He was the one who should be dead right now.
And why wasn't he dead then?
Why were Evander and Georgie dead— and Hugh wasn't?
A pair of knees fell to the ground beside him. He turned around, mechanically, and he saw Kasumi, whose mouth was slightly open and her face had grown pale. Suddenly, instead of breaking down and crying like he thought she was about to do, she made her hands into fists, her jaw clenched, and after a blink, her eyes had turned into the bluest of blues he had ever seen.
Her scream was so guttural and so full of pain, she didn’t sound like her. Kasumi had never been able to make a wave that big out of nowhere in just one second and she had never used her powers with so much hate drawn all over her face full of tears that she didn’t seem to realize she was crying.
But with a simple flick of his wrist, Ace flipped the entire platform and created a barrier that protected him from the wave, breaking it and flooding the arena. Kasumi quickly tried to control the water to protect Evander’s corpse; he took advantage of that distraction to throw the platform at her.
And the only thing Kasumi could do was cry out and raise her arms to defend herself from the crushing weight that now was on top of her.
She didn’t even try to move or to run away. But he didn’t know if it was because it all happened so fast she didn’t have the time to do it—
Or because she simply didn’t want to.
Hugh looked up to the sky, searching for Tamaya. He expected to find her flying, keeping her distance, throwing bolts at her enemies, and when they were able to make eye contact, he would yell her name and ask her for help.
Not for him though.
For them. For Kasumi and Evander. Because each second that passed with Kasumi still under that platform, paralyzed and alone, and with Evander still at the mercy of whoever that passed and that could trip with him or kicked him, was a second that they were being—
Hurt.
But Hugh didn’t see her. She wasn’t anywhere he expected to find her, and he did his best to scan the whole sky, even if the little smoke that still remained in the area made it difficult for him to see.
Then, a dark thought clouded his mind.
Tamaya wasn’t reckless. Not anymore. She wouldn’t risk her life by staying on the ground, and she would know that the best way she would be able to help the rest of them was if she flew and got closer only in case they needed her help.
If she had stayed in the sky, she would have been able to see Evander blinding Ace with his powers. She would have seen Kasumi breaking down and her wave would have touched her wings. She would have known they needed her help long before Hugh did.
Then why wasn’t she there?
Why couldn’t he bring himself to lower his head and look for her in the ground?
Why was he so… numb?
Suddenly, Ace’s roar filled his ears. The villain had a knife buried on his left side, and when he tried to hit whoever had stabbed him, he wasn’t able to find them.
It wasn’t possible that someone had thrown a knife at him since the attack had clearly been from behind. And no one would be fast enough to get out of Ace’s reach and disappear before he realized he had been hurt.
Disappear.
And it was as if he could see him again. He was able to see him standing behind Ace, piercing him with his gaze, ready to push him, made him hit his face against the ground, and kill him himself. He could see his face—the face he had kissed thousands of times— contorted in anger even before his presence was revealed by Honey Harper, who screeched almost as if asking for his husband’s head, and sent every one of the creatures she had control over in his direction.
Simon cried in pain and, after flickering a couple of seconds, he curled into a ball, to protect his body from the bee’s dangerous stings.
An eerie beam of light flew over his head and made Honey Harper fall into a row of plastic chairs. Her bees suddenly lost interest in Simon and flew towards her, hearing their queen calling for someone’s name. When he looked around for whoever had attacked her, he recognized the Sentinel’s armor and noticed how he slowly lowered his arm, as if he couldn’t believe he had just shot someone right in the chest from that distance.
From the corner of his eyes, he saw Leroy Flinn tossing a couple of Renegades who were about to attack him and running towards his ally to check on her as if he were one more of her bees who blindly followed her command. Ace watched the scene as the same time Hugh did, but instead of asking Cyanide if she was fine, or even trying to pretend he cared for her, he used his powers to pull his back out of his knife.
He pulled the knife out of his back, probably because he was too full of himself to realize that he could bleed to death if he did that.
Simon knew that. He would have done it himself if he only had time.
Simon knew a lot of things.
And Hugh saw in his eyes that he knew Ace was aiming at his throat when he threw his own weapon at him.
But before the knife touched any inch of Simon’s skin, a swarm of monarch butterflies covered him and Danna Bell used her forearm to knock it from the air.
The Renegades who were still on condition to fight started using their powers at maximum capacity to try to stop Ace Anarchy. Hugh began to walk around with his head low, looking for his weapon because that was the only thing the dark fog that made his body feel dizzy and his thoughts fuzzy allowed him to do.
Look for it.
Look for it, grab it, get up, and fight.
The spear was nowhere to be found. And Hugh didn’t feel like fighting anymore.
He wanted to lay on the floor. He wanted to lay on the floor with Tamaya, with Kasumi, and with Evander, close his eyes, and try to remember how he felt when they were kids and all of them slept together in the same giant bed. He would try to imagine the sound of their breaths and suffocate the yelling, the crying, and the screeching, to at least feel like he was falling asleep before someone came and finished the job for —not for Ace— but for him.
And if no one did, at least Hugh knew what he was going to do next.
His knees began to tremble and his feet refused to keep going. He saw the Silver Spear a couple of meters behind Ace. Maybe if he was able to get across those barriers Ace had built around him with his powers, he could use it.
He had never tried to use it to see if it could physically hurt him in a way that could potentially kill him.
But he could try.
Immediately after that, he noticed someone’s gaze was fixated on him. He looked at Ace but just at that moment, he was struck by a bolt of smoke, distracting himself by his own coughing.
Two hands covered with black gloves slightly touched his weapon and made it move towards him.
The same hands he had been wanting to hold for so long.
The same hands that belonged to the same person who hadn’t stopped looking at him after all this time.
Simon probably didn’t even notice what he did. When Hugh looked back at him, he wasn’t paying attention to him anymore; instead, he was trying his best not to keep slipping on the muddy ground while he stumbled his way out of there.
Simon was slipping through his fingers once again.
The difference was that this time when the Sentinel landed beside a kneeling Simon, hurt and full with stings on his face and neck, he knew he couldn’t let watching him go away be the last thing he did in his life.
Hugh didn’t like running after people when they decided to go because he would never want anyone to do it if it were him.
After all, leaving took a lot of strength. Someone following him would only make it so much harder.
And being the one who followed and was rejected at the end, was even worse.
But some people were worth following. Just one time. Just to make sure they really wanted to leave, or if they wanted to stay just as hard as one wanted them to.
Just so each other knew they haven’t given up on each other yet.
Because he would never give up on Simon; not even when Hugh had already given up on himself.
When he kneeled beside him, he just threw a glance at the Sentinel to try to figure out his intentions, but immediately centered all his attention on Simon.
The hell with the Sentinel.
“Simon, what happened?” he asked him, with his voice trembling as much as the ground did. “What’s wrong?”
And Simon—
Simon answered him.
“At least one of those hornets must have had Agent N—” their gazes met “—I’ve been neutralized.”
He bit his lips and lowered his head, almost as if he were apologizing for something.
But Hugh didn’t want him to apologize. He wasn’t the one who needed to do it.
That Simon was still his Simon. With or without powers.
Hugh put his arm around Simon. “We need to get you out of here. Can you stand?”
He expected Simon to flinch at his touch and ask him to get away from him as soon as he touched. What he didn’t expect was for him to completely ignore his question and his arm around him, and instead, ask him, “Have you seen Adrian?”
Hugh immediately tried to remember if he had seen him during the fight. But, to his horror, the last time he had seen Adrian had been the night he and his team discovered Nightmare’s true identity because he had been avoiding him during the last days.
Those things now seemed insignificant and petty compared with what was happening now.
First, he only shook his head, and while he helped him to get up, Simon’s eyes started to fill with tears. “We’ll find him,” he assured him. “He’s strong. He has to be fine.”
And it was a threat to the universe.
Simon tried to give a step, but his legs couldn’t hold the weight of his body, and he almost fell again. Hugh instinctively held him tighter. “I’m okay,” Simon quickly said, waving his hand. “It’s just…”
It’s just—
Hugh wanted to ask him: “It’s just what?”
But she hadn’t asked him that question. So he didn’t ask Simon either.
He did want an answer though.
And Simon was so good, he gave it to him.
“My whole body feels like it’s burning up from the inside out. Whatever venom those wasps have—”
Simon groaned and Hugh heard his words echoing in his mind.
Feeling.
At least you’re feeling.
You’re feeling, and that’s what matters.
Hugh tried to speak, but the Sentinel interrupted him before he could even say a word.
“Here, let me take him.” He frowned, and the Sentinel added, “You need to stop Ace Anarchy.”
He contemplated the Sentinel's armor, about to tell him to move and let him take his husband out of there.
Hugh didn't need to do anything.
The only thing he needed to do was to get Simon away from danger as quickly as possible.
But he would be lying.
Because deep in his heart, he knew he had to stop Ace Anarchy before he did anything else.
Not because he wanted to. It was because he had to.
That was the way it had always been.
He would like to hate the Sentinel for making that remark, but as soon as his eyes met with his helmet, he realized he had become one of those insignificant and petty things he couldn't believe had taken so much of his time.
And he had also saved Max.
Without him, Adrian wouldn't have had a little brother to kidnap, Hugh wouldn't have had two sons to worry about, and probably, a husband for the Anarchist to hurt.
“Thank you.”
He meant it.
He really meant it.
If the Sentinel smiled or felt something when he heard those words, he didn't show it. He moved towards them to help Simon put his weight on him, but as soon as he got close, he flinched and held Hugh tighter.
A lot more tighter.
With all his might.
Hugh looked him dead in the eye, and Simon did it too.
He would never forget how soft, yet determined, his voice sounded when he said those three words to him.
It was a plea and it was an order.
It was a question and it was an answer.
They were full of vulnerability and they were full of strength.
It was the first words he had really said to him in a long time but might as well become the last ones.
Simon said, “Don't get killed.”
Two realizations came to him at the same time.
The first one was that Simon's lips were slightly open after he said that.
And the second one was that he couldn't die yet.
Not because of the world. Not even because he was sure he wanted to keep living.
He needed to live because he had to find Tamaya to tell her he was sorry, even if he had to look for her on the ground. Because he needed to help Kasumi, ask her to forgive him too, and assure her she had been right all along. Because he needed to fulfill the silent promise he had made to Evander since the day he appeared on their life's door and protect him one last time.
He needed to see Max, hug him, and get him ready for bed.
He needed to talk to Adrian again and tell him he loved him, without him having to be the first one to do so.
And he needed to hold, touch, but above all, kiss the love of his life one more time, and make sure he would never again think Hugh didn't love him until his last breath, and that his last thoughts were all about him.
So he not only needed to live.
He had to live.
Just one last time, he had to live.
He had done it before; he would do it again.
“I'd like to see him try.”
***
The last thing Hugh saw before falling, was Adrian’s face.
And he looked small. Very small. And completely terrified.
He looked so terrified, that the few seconds he was falling, he could only think about all the horrible things Adrian and Max must be feeling, and not actually about what he was feeling.
But as soon as he realized that, he hit the ground.
At first, he did his best not to give up and stay awake for as long as possible. But he started wondering what Georgie felt when she fell from the sky. If she had looked like a shooting star. And he wondered if it was really her the one who appeared in front of him, wearing a golden cape. If it was really her when she held his face in her hands, caressing his cheeks without saying a single word, and kissed his forehead before getting up again and starting flying, and flying until he couldn’t see her anymore.
He also wondered if she would have been woken up by the pain had she survived the fall, just like he eventually did. If she would have also felt the instant relief everyone felt when they came to the realization that they were alive, just to immediately be followed up by guilt. Or what Georgie would have thought if she had stayed a little longer, just to ask him that one last time.
Where does it hurt?
Hugh would have told her the truth. Because of course he would have told her the truth. He would never lie to her. Not even when all he had done for the last ten years, had been lying to himself.
Everywhere.
It hurts everywhere.
She didn’t ask him anything though.
Not that he was mad at her for not doing so.
He just wondered what she would have thought.
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hopelesshawks · 4 years ago
Text
Physical Fatality Part 13- Icarus
18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader
Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.
If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf
This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni
Warning for very slight suicidal themes this fic has a happy ending I swear
Masterlist
Agony.
Losing you is agony.
Endeavor is lecturing him for pulling the stunt with Bakugo earlier that day but he can’t hear or really process any of it when all he can think about is the fact you’ve blocked his number and seem to want nothing to do with him. He vaguely registers words of “I told you so” and “I warned you” and even a word or two about a demotion but none of it matters. Hawks doesn’t know how to do anything but be a hero. It’s been the driving force behind a lot of the choices he’s made in your relationship and he knows it’s the same for you, but that doesn’t make any of this easier.
“You’re going to have to work really hard to earn my trust back Hawks and the trust of your coworkers,” Endeavor warns. “Understood,” Hawks replies, his voice almost detached. It seems to disconcert Endeavor, the other man being far more accustomed to the snarky Hawks persona than the serious man in front of him now. “Hawks, uhm, do you,” Endeavor stutters suddenly unsure. He coughs to cover his discomfort and clears his throat before resuming. “Do you need to talk about what happened between you and Artemis?” he finally manages to ask. He looks so deeply uncomfortable potentially talking about the subject and his discomfort only grows when Hawks continues to give him nothing back. “That won’t be necessary,” Hawks replies before turning and walking out of the office. If Hawks doesn’t know how to live without hero work, Keigo doesn’t know how to live without you. So his only option is to abandon Keigo until the pain stops.
He can’t have slept more than a handful of hours that night but he still wakes up early the next morning to run an extra patrol before his normally scheduled one. He files paperwork, even revisits old cases, all in a bid to keep you off his mind. Of course it’s not enough to stop his coworkers from whispering. Typically he ignores the gossip of the lower ranking heroes but it’s hard when he knows they’re speculating about you and him. It certainly doesn’t help that your break up was so public and now it feels like nearly all of Japan has watched the video of it happening. Hawks used to be the darling of Endeavor’s agency, beloved by all of his coworkers. Now he’s practically a pariah.
His new outcast status is only made more obvious at the cocktail party later that day. He’d wanted to skip it entirely, the fact you were supposed to be his plus one to the event made it all the more unappealing, but he’s already skating on thin ice and had no legitimate excuse to justify his absence. So instead he watches the other heroes talk and drink and laugh about things while he hides in the corner, too exhausted and heartbroken to put up the persona necessary to maintain conversation. No one seems to ask about him anyway or even care what he thinks despite the fact it’s his personal life that’s become the hottest topic in all of Japan. He wonders if this is how Icarus felt as he plummeted to the earth. Hawks had flown too close to your light and warmth and now he’s fallen from grace. He wonders if it’s true that Icarus laughed as he fell. If so he can empathize. As painful as this fall is, he would live it over and over if it meant he could catch even a glimpse of you again.
When Shoto comes to join him it’s literally the first genuine interaction he’s had all day. “You look like shit,” Shoto comments by way of greeting. “Thanks. Feel like it too,” Hawks replies. He doesn’t have to pretend with Shoto and for that he’s grateful. “Are you ok?” Shoto asks. “Even though I’ve always hated these things I was always so good at them,” Hawks starts in response. “I’d talk, drink, laugh just like everyone’s doing, be the center of attention, play the part of the charming number two hero. And look at me now. I’m so fucking anxious about what they’ll say about me, about her, about us and what happened that I can’t have a proper fucking conversation. I used to be on fire and now I’m standing in the ashes of who I used to be and I’m just fading away. Without her I’m fading away. I’m just as pathetic as she said,” Keigo confesses and it’s a weight off but it also makes the hollow space behind his ribs where you used to live feel all the more prominent. “This right here is kind of pathetic,” Shoto starts, earning him a shocked almost laugh from the other man, “but you are not pathetic Hawks. I think (y/n) knows that, she’s just hurting. Rightfully so. The bullshit with the others in the agency will get better too.” “I don’t know about that one.” “You’re not the only one who’s done dumb or bad shit. Not by a long shot.” “Really?” “You know Iida?” Shoto asks, pointing to the man in question as he obliviously continues his conversation with one of the others present. “Yea. Your year at UA, stickler for the rules. What about him?” Hawks asks. “He chose his internship our first year with the sole intention of trying to hunt down and kill Stain to avenge his brother.” “Really? That guy?” “Yep. My dad isn’t so innocent either: quirk marriage, child abuse, oh the stories I could tell you.” “Jesus Christ.” “Exactly. Everyone has their own shit Hawks. This will pass and hopefully you and (y/n) can find your ways back to each other when it does.”
Shortly after Todoroki finishes speaking his phone rings and he frowns down in confusion when he notices it’s Bakugo calling him. “I didn’t think we had task force business today,” Shoto says as he answers the phone. “We don’t. Is Hawks there with you?” Bakugo asks, his tone betraying his worry. “Yea he is.” “Shit.” “What’s going on Bakugo?” “It’s about (y/n),” Bakugo admits and Shoto’s eyes widen. He casts a look at Hawks before finally deciding to drag the other man with him to an empty office on the floor they’re currently on. He locks the door behind them and then pops his phone on speaker. “Ok you’re on speaker with me and Hawks what’s going on with (y/n)?” Shoto asks, his voice remaining calm. “All Might fired her last night so she was supposed to come in this morning and collect her stuff except instead she pretty much just threw everything away. I came back to patrol and found out she’d left Midoriya and I little gifts on our desk which was weird, so I hit up her roommates and apparently she never went home after she swung by here. I thought she and Hawks may have run off together but if he’s with you...” Bakugo explains. “Maybe she’s just clearing her head or something,” Shoto suggests. “No way. The whole of Japan is gossiping about her right now, the last thing she’d want is to be out in public,” Bakugo quickly refutes. “Was there anything else off about your desks? Drawers opened?” Hawks asks. “Maybe, I wasn’t paying that much attention. Why?” Bakugo asks. “Your task force notes still there?” Hawks asks in lieu of an answer. Hawks and Shoto wait with baited breath as they hear the sound of Bakugo moving around and then opening a desk drawer. “Nope, they’re gone,” Bakugo finally reports back. “Thought so. (Y/n) wouldn’t just roll over and kiss her career goodbye, she’s probably trying to take out the terrorist cell herself and use it as leverage to get her job back,” Hawks deduces. “Alone? That’s a suicide mission,” Shoto says. “Hence the gifts on the desks,” Hawks replies grimly. “Most of our notes are over there with you guys though,” Bakugo points out. As if on cue an alarm starts blaring overhead warning of an intruder. “That’s gotta be her,” Hawks says. “I’m on my way, hold her there so we can talk some sense into that idiot,” Bakugo tells them before promptly hanging up the phone.
Hawks has to give credit where credit is due. As foolhardy as your plan is, it’s incredibly well executed. As a former member of the guest list, you would’ve known everyone would be occupied with the cocktail party on one of the lower floors, far away from where the files you need are. The elevators will take forever with so many people trying to all get upstairs which only leaves the stairs, which are marginally better but still relatively slow. You must have spent most of the night planning this out. That thought fills Hawks with a certain amount of dread. You’re probably emotional and sleep deprived on your way to take on an entire villain group yourself all in a desperate bid to save your career. It almost sounds ludicrous. Yet, as Hawks races to the top floor in hopes of catching you, all he can think of is something you’d once told him during happier times, late at night as you two were wrapped up in each other:
“Honestly Kei? I’d rather die a hero than live long enough to prove those stupid reporters right about me.”
Author’s Note: Does this still count as a double update if I’m posting the second one after midnight 💀 anyway I can’t believe how quickly I was able to get this chapter out. The image of Hawks standing in the corner of a massive company party feeling like a shell of himself is actually a large part of what sold me on writing this fic for him. The song this chapter correlates to just felt so right for his character that I knew it couldn’t be anyone else. I thought about waiting to post this until later tomorrow today? but I’m ✨impatient✨ so instead y’all get it now
Taglist [open]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff @iikillerkitteh @pixelwisp @pokesosa @lildockel @bread0nhead @lavender-moon13
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criminalminds4days · 4 years ago
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Family Matters | Chapter 9: Apologies
Hello Everybody!!
Once again, I have forgotten to add my personal note to the episode and forgot it published today!
Sorry for all that, I have been having a really long couple of weeks, but hopefully I will get some time to review and edit the chapters I have before I publish in the upcoming weeks. Hope you enjoy this chapter.
Warnings: Swearing, sexual references, violence and murder references, public embarrassment, and very bad jokes!
Word Count: 4.1k
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Tag list: @mcntsee @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @evelyncade @haylaansmi @paulaern @myfandomlife-blog​
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(This gif is not mine)
Chapter 9: Apologies
"You snore." The woman said as she heard him approach the kitchen, his pants from the night before hanging loosely on his hips and the infamous sweater covering his chest. She was facing the counter, making her famous recipe of coffee, her back to him. "I don't mean it as an insult. Just thought you should know."
"You snore too." He spoke, as she turned to him, not registering his clothes. "I also don't mean it as an insult."
"Coffee?" He nodded and she placed the sugar on the table and poured two cups of coffee. "Are you wearing my sweater?" She questioned as she finally noticed. "Why?"
"Can I ask you where you got it?"
"Emily gave it to me on my first case. We went to get hot dogs-"
"Really? Hot dogs? Do you know the crap that is in a hot dog?"
"Spencer, I love hearing your fun facts and I absolutely love that you share them with me, but please don't ruin hot dogs for me. I just can't tolerate that." He rolled his eyes and smiled at her, and she returned to the topic. "As I was saying, we were eating hot dogs and I ended up spilling ketchup all over my white shirt, so Emily ran back to the hotel and got me the sweater."
"So Emily is the one that gave you my sweater?"
"What do you mean?"
"This is my sweater."
"Why did Emily have your sweater?" As a possible reason came to mind she almost choked on her coffee. "Spencer, did you sleep with Emily?!"
"What? No!" He said, his face showing disturbance at the thought. "Emily is a very attractive woman, but I have no romantic feelings for her."
"Hmm."
"I mean it. Don't get me wrong, I am loving this jealousy scenario we have going on, but nothing is going on between Emily and me."
"Then how did she end up with that sweater?"
"Well, I packed it on my go bag during that first case you worked with us. Morgan made fun of me by saying what you told me when we met and ended up leaving the sweater on his bed. Later that day you were wearing a very similar one and when I got back mine was gone. I concluded it was the same, but I had no clue how you got it."
"So, Emily somehow got the sweater from your room and gave it to me. Why did you never ask for it back?"
"Because that conversation would have been really uncomfortable!"
"Fair."
"Anyway, now I can take it home and the mystery has been fully solved."
"First off, the mystery has not been fully solved because we have no idea how Emily got her hands on it. Secondly, you are not going to get that sweater back, because it is now mine. I am fine with letting you use it from time to time, that way it will keep your scent, but that is my sweater now."
"But it was one of my favorite sweaters."
"And it is my favorite. Besides, I am your girlfriend now, I get to keep your sweaters and hoodies."
"I don't like that."
"Well too bad buttercup." Before he could protest, both of their phones rang. "It's Emily." She said, with panic.
"Hotch is calling me."
"Go to the hallway to answer, they can't find out we're in the same place."
"Good thinking." He walked outside.
As soon as the door closed she answered the phone. "Spencer is not here, why would you think that?" She said to the woman on the other side of the phone.
"I didn't think he was there."
"Of course you didn't. I just had a dream that you did and your call woke me up."
"Okay," there was a pause before she continued, "we have a case."
"I will be there in about thirty minutes. I have to go pick up Reid at his apartment. Where he surely is right now. Because that's where he lives, obviously."
"So you guys made up?"
"Yeah, turns out I was imagining things. Nothing to worry about, everything is back to normal. Nothing new, nothing predictable. Reid and I are friends as we were before, not anything less, and not anything more."
"You are seriously worrying me, do you want me to go get you?"
"No! I will be there soon. Bye!"
After hanging up she moved to her room to change, deciding to wear jeans and her favorite top. A couple of knocks on her door made her return to the living room. She opened them to find Dr. Spencer Reid and her neighbor, Mrs. Johnson smiling awkwardly at each other.
"What are you doing out here?" She asked.
"You told me to take the call out here, remember?"
"Oh right," she moved aside to let him back in, "why did you stay out there?"
"Because your door was locked!"
"Sorry, didn't mean to leave you out."
"It's okay, though we should stop by my apartment, I don't think showing up in the same clothes as yesterday will be good."
"You're right. I just wish the next time Hotch says we have time off we actually get the time he promised us off." She whined as she placed her hair in a bun, too lazy to do anything else with it, and knowing full well she would regret it once she had to brush her hair again.
"I will make sure to send out a communication to all serial killers when that happens." He said sarcastically, "also, please change. We said no blue, remember?"
"Can I wear the sweater then?"
"Fine." He took it off and handed it to her, who immediately used it to cover her favorite top. "Let us get going. We do not need any more reason to arise suspicion. It usually takes us between thirty-three and forty minutes to get from your apartment to the coffee shop, then to my apartment, and finally to the office, and I got off the phone with Hotch about three minutes ago, so we need to hurry."
"Yes, sir." She grabbed her keys and handed him his shirt that he had forgotten in her room along with his shoes and took her go-bag and keys, making sure everything was off and/or unplugged before leaving.
About ten minutes after she was waiting for Spencer as he ran to change. She thought of the first time, a couple of months ago when this all had started. She was waiting for him in that same car, as he got ready to pretend to be her boyfriend to annoy Anna. Now, she was waiting for him to get ready so nobody would actually suspect that they were dating and he had spent his birthday night with her. 
How the turns have table.
"Okay, I am ready." He announced, entering the vehicle. "Let's go to work."
"To catch a psychopath we go!"
"Actually, most of the serial killers and criminals we catch aren't psychopaths. There are a lot of narcissists, sociopaths, and pedophiles in the mix."
"Never would have guessed." 
After a couple of minutes of driving, Spencer reached out for her hand and intertwined their fingers. The gesture was romantic and heartwarming, but she was not used to driving with one hand. She tried for two lights to do so but eventually gave up, knowing they would get in an accident if she kept driving with one hand.
"This holding hands, I am here for it. I love the energy, but if I keep holding your hand we will die."
"Sorry, I have seen it in a lot of movies, it always turns out really well. I should have thought of the real-life consequences." He said letting go of her hand, she placed a kiss on his cheek before letting go of the break and continuing to drive. 
"As I said, I love the thought, it's just that I am the clumsiest person to have ever lived and I am not a good driver as it is so I am trying to not get us killed."
"I know."
"So, how do we make this work?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I am trying really hard not to pull over and make out with you in my car again, so how are we going to make it work, without arising suspicion among anyone in our team?"
"We are profilers, how hard can it be to hide our emotions?"
"Apparently really hard, because everybody knew we liked each other but us."
"True, but if we keep acting as we did before, maybe they will think it is only because we are still in denial."
"I don't see a single flaw in your logic." 
As she undid her seatbelt after parking, he made sure no one was around before placing a soft kiss on her lips. How on earth was Spencer Reid so good at being a boyfriend? He was like everything she had dreamed about and they had only been dating for about eighteen hours! He gave her a soft smile and exited the vehicle. He waited for her, as he usually did but didn't attempt to open the door for her, as the one time he had tried he had received an hour-long lecture on how opening a door was not difficult and she did not need his help to do so.
They made their way to the round table and found all their coworkers sitting. JJ gave her a smirk as if her question from the night before was still as amusing as it was then. She tried not to hide under a rock and took a seat next to her. The blonde pulled a box of chocolate glazed donuts.
"I am sorry for eating it."
"JJ, I honestly wasn't that mad about it." She said but still took the box. "However, my mom did teach me to never say no to a gift." She offered the blonde one and this one took it. "Sorry for being a jerk to you."
"It's okay. You have feelings for Spencer and thought I was getting in the way, I mean, I can see the appeal but he and I are just friends."
"It's not that I have feelings for him." She lied, "cheating is something I just can't get past. But now I know it was silly to think that."
"You are absolutely right. I love my husband, and while Spence will always be special to me, it's not a romantic kind of special."
"I know."
"So, shoot your shot. I have a pretty good feeling he feels the same." She winked.
"Let's not go there!"
The woman laughed, inciting her to follow. She couldn't help but feel giddy. Everything seemed to be falling into place. Her eyes met his, a smile playing on his lips. She winked and returned her attention to the food in front of her.
As they made their way to the hotel, she was paired with Emily as it usually was and they both made their way to their room. They laid their bags on their bed and sat for a couple of seconds before heading to the police station. Her friend looked at her as if analyzing her behavior.
"Something is different."
"Yes, we are not in D.C. anymore."
"No, that's not it." She observed her for a couple more seconds. "You're glowing."
She tried not to give herself away, her body language and micro-expressions as controlled as possible. "No, I'm not."
"Spill it out."
She knew denying it any longer would be a mistake. "I met someone." She said.
"What do you mean, you met someone?"
"I'm dating someone." She admitted.
"Does Spencer know?"
"Yes, I told him last night. After I drove him home and he's happy for me."
"What's his name?"
"I'm not gonna tell you because then you'll go and tell Penelope about it and you'll stalk him." And because his name is Spencer Reid, she avoided saying.
"I'll be right back."
A couple of minutes after Emily left, her phone buzzed with a text message from Dr. Reid.
Why is Emily in my hotel room hugging me and telling me everything will be alright and that you'll come around?
She fought the urge to laugh, but it was in vain. Instead of responding to the text, after composing herself, she decided to make her way to his hotel room, not before reviewing a text from Hotch urging them to make their way back to the police station.
"What are you doing here?" Emily asked as she opened the door. The woman entered, looking for the doctor.
"I could ask you the same thing. Where's Spencer?"
"He had to go to the bathroom. Why?"
Before she could answer the bathroom door opened and Reid emerged, a face of relief as he saw her. She tried to hide her smile.
"Hotch needs us at the police station."
"Oh, right." The woman made her way to the door, "our conversation isn't over Dr. Reid." She said before exiting the room.
"What did you say to her?"
"I told her I was dating someone." She replied.
"Why would you do that? We can't be dating, you know?" He asked anxiously.
"Relax genius, I didn't tell her you were my boyfriend, I said I met someone but I didn't want to tell her because Garcia would stalk him, which is true by the way."
"Did you tell her I knew?"
"Yes." She nodded.
"Well, that explains it all." He said, she raised an eyebrow, questioning him. "She knows I had a crush on you, so she probably thinks I have a broken heart or something."
"Why did you tell her?"
"It was more like she told me."
"Did she make you list my qualities?" She asked, and he nodded. She reached up to his tie and pulled him closer. "Can I hear them?"
"No, it will only boost your ego." He quickly placed a kiss on her cheek and pulled back. "Now let's go, we have a job to do." Before he could get too far, she had pulled his tie, making him now stand at mere inches from her. "I don't think this is a good idea." He whispered.
"I'm full of bad ideas." She said with a wink.
"What on earth is happening right now?!" Emily's voice made them jump.
"Spencer had his tie crooked, I was trying to help."
"Bullshit!" The woman cried. "Is this really happening? Is my ship finally real?"
"Way to go, miss bad-ideas."
"Shut up." She responded and turned her attention back to Emily. "Sweetie, I don't know what you're talking about."
"Drop the act, Blackwood." The woman said, using her mother's last name. "You two are dating, aren't you?"
"You need to promise you won't tell anyone." He said.
"Spencer!"
"What? There was no way she was gonna buy any excuse, we might as well just tell her now."
"I can't believe it?! How long has this been a thing?"
"Just since yesterday, but we mean it, Emily. None can know. Especially not Hotch."
"I know, but this is just so exciting! I get to be your guys' cover-up!"
"I am serious Emily, you can't tell anybody. And please, act normal. We work with a bunch of profilers, if we aren't discrete they will figure us out."
"Says the one that blew our cover after only twenty hours," Reid mumbled.
"Watch it genius." She reprimanded.
They made their way to the police station after receiving three calls from Hotch urging them to hurry and using the disappointment card due to their lack of professionalism. They made their way through the station and joined the rest of the team in the briefing. 
As it turned out, there was an unsub abducting people and making them place calls to estranged family members or past loved ones. The call usually consisted of a request for forgiveness, when the person granted it, the person was released as far away from their abduction site as you could get, if there was no apology, the body of the caller appeared near the great salt lake. Turns out Utah was not as quiet as she remembered.
"Any insight?"
"This unsub is clearly taking apologizing to an extreme. I have to question who he really wants to punish." Spencer said, and all eyes turned to him. "On the one hand, if you've wronged someone and they accept your apology, you deserve to live. If they don't, you deserve to die, so we can assume that is the punishment. However, if the person does not accept an apology they will have to live knowing this unsub killed the person they used to love or used to be close with simply because they couldn't accept an apology."
"The question is how this unsub is getting the information needed to choose their victims," Hotch added. "And why them, why punish both parties, how does this satisfy his needs?"
"This is gonna sound pretty obvious," she spoke up, "but I think this unsub has mommy or daddy issues." She coughed, clearing her throat, "what I meant to say, is that the unsub sees himself as portraying one of these roles. I can discard the role of the caller simply because of the way the victims are disposed of. No care, they are simply garbage. It seems clear someone wronged him and he is trying to get back at them."
"Well, we aren't sure it's a he." Rossi pitched in.
"Women are not subtle about this. If the unsub was a woman, there wouldn't be as many victims. She would simply go to the source." she reminded him. "If this was a woman, one of the first victims wouldn't have made a call, but every single one has."
After more analysis and a well-established profile, they were directed to question some potential suspects. Reid, Prentis (who had begged Hotch to join them), and she made their way to the house of Lucas Heavensbee. A man who seemed to fit their profile but was still being stalked by Garcia for any link.
They knocked on the door and made sure to identify themselves as FBI agents.
"So, aren't you guys gonna hold hands or something?" Emily whispered after the other girl knocked on the door again.
"Do you know how impractical that would be?" Reid responded.
"You guys are no fun!" 
Before she could remind her best friend of where they were, the man they were looking for jumped out the window. "Suspect is running!" She informed and chased after him, really glad she wasn't wearing heels at that particular moment. 
Though even if she had, there wasn't much that would have changed, as after five minutes the unsub stopped and started breathing heavily. "Give me two minutes and then we can continue running," he said.
"Nice try buddy, but you're coming with us." She approached him and cuffed him. "Now that you've made us lose our time, I hope you will be a little more considerate and cooperate with us.
"Depends, are you gonna interrogate me?" The man played with his eyebrows.
"She's taken, you creep," Emily said.
"Agent Prentiss!" Spencer grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to their SUV. After they were settled, with Emily behind the wheel and Spencer in the front seat, she placed the man on the left-back seat and took the right.
"This is the nicest car I have been in, I have to say, being arrested has its perks."
"Please do not try to start a conversation while we take you in for questioning."
"Tough crowd." 
They entered the police station and placed him in the interrogation room, none of the team members ready to question him. They still had to come up with a strategy.
"Lucas Heavensbee. Twenty-nine. His dad abandoned him and his mother after this one had a miscarriage. A couple of months ago, his mom died of cancer."
"Told you guys it was daddy issues." The woman said and approached the door to the interrogation room. "Guess I'll take this one."
"No," Spencer spoke up. "That is exactly what he wants, besides, we don't have a strategy yet."
"I do." She said, turning to face Hotch. "I know how he thinks. In his mind, there are two types of people, nothing more. He will not crack under pressure, he has designed himself to shield any attempt to invade his thoughts from someone who isn't like him."
"How does that help us?" Derek asked.
"Because I was him. I of course didn't murder anyone, but I thought like him for a really long time."
"Are you sure about this?"
"Yes, I need to go in alone." 
"Go then. Leave the camera on, so he knows he's being watched, it might give you the edge you need." She nodded and made her way in. The guy was so obvious about the issues he had, she almost felt bad for him. That was if he hadn't decided to kill innocent people. He was even good looking. If she didn't have a boyfriend and he wasn't a serial killer, she would have even flirted back.
"Well, if it isn't the cute agent."
"Well, if it isn't another guy with daddy issues." She answered as she made her way to the camera and turned it on. "How about you tell me what I need and we get this over with?"
"Now, honey, I am not that easy. At least take me to dinner first."
On the other side of the mirror, Emily and Spencer had placed themselves under Aaron's orders. He wanted to make sure the interview went well and if she needed moral support, the two people she trusted the most would be there. The rest of the team was going over the evidence, as at the moment everything seemed purely circumstantial. 
"This guy is a jerk." The man said.
"It's a façade, it's all about appearances. He's testing her."
The woman took a seat and opened her file. "Your dad left when you were ten, soon after your mother lost her baby, that must have been hard."
"Oh please, as if you would know anything about that."
"What hurts more, losing a sibling, losing your father, or losing your mother?" He banged the table with his fists. "Hard to choose, makes sense."
"You didn't even blink." He noted, a smile spreading across his face. "Was it your mom or dad that hit you?"
"That is none of your business and it is irrelevant."
"It was your dad, wasn't it?"
"If you must know," she paused, looking slightly at the camera, "it was neither of them. I grew up with cousins who didn't like me very much. Now, stop acting like your some kind of macho man when we both know you're nothing but a sexually frustrated man who can't seem to get over his father leaving so he decided to take it out on people who were innocent and had nothing to do with his little show!"
"Ah, now there is the real you. Feels good to be free, doesn't it." His view changed directly to the mirror, "Who's on the other side? Your boss?"
"No, all of my team is making sure you never get out of prison."
"Is that why they sent you here? Because you were of no help out there?" 
"No, they sent me here because I am the only one that understands your punk phase. I too had one. The difference is I outgrew it and it outgrew you."
"Did your dad leave?"
"Let me make a deal with you since you seem determined to snoop at my business. I will turn that camera off, and you will write me a confession. If I am satisfied with it, I will answer five questions. If I am not satisfied, you get to rot in here."
He smiled as if hearing those words was all he wanted. "Deal, agent."
"It's doctor, actually," She clarified. "You have twenty minutes."
She exited the room to find herself faced with Spencer Reid.
"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" He asked as he examined her, "you are not going back in there."
"I have exactly what I need. I am definitely going back in there, now can you please stop? You are not being very subtle right now."
He let go of her and moved closer to Emily, suddenly aware of what he had done. 
"Is there anything that can put him away?"
"Not unless we get a confession." She looked at the man, who was writing on a notepad that had been placed there when he arrived. "Why does he have to be handsome?"
"I know, right? If he wasn't a serial killer... Ugh, you cannot find men that look like that anymore."
"Excuse me?" Her boyfriend asked.
"Are you gonna tell me he's not hot?"
"Just because I think he is, does not mean I want to hear you say it!"
The man placed down the pencil, signaling he had finished. Now was the time to beat him at his own game. 
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