#ugh to the millionth degree | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lihikainanea · 3 years

Note

thinking about jealous bill a lot these days, lei, and how he’d fuck her so good after. one of those fucks where he’s just making her HIS, fucking her from behind and just making her forget any words. especially if she was already small and some guy hit on her at a bar that she already didn’t want to be at and bill just assures her the whole time home. but once they’re home? he knows what he’s gotta do and that’s making her mind blank.

Oooooooof I've been sitting on this for too long, but it has had me tingling for days. I've been itching to get my thoughts out on it, but idk sometimes this routine that I think I have nailed down with my little furry dude just goes to shit all of a sudden and there's really no reason to it. Last week I was rocking it, his nap times were on point, I was eating dinner by 7, we had walks, play time, then he conked out. This week I'm like DURRRR HOW DO I DOG PARENT? and I'm eating dinner at 10 and I feel like even Bongo is looking at me like he really needs me to get my shit together.

ANYWAY.

Let's get into this.

What I love about this here is the small but incredibly important detail that you mentioned that like...maybe tiger is already a little small. Maybe she's somewhere she doesn't want to be and Bill knows this, maybe she's not feeling too great about it and is getting worse, maybe she wants out or needs a reprieve and Bill knows it. And that right there flares up his protector side, the primal side of him that just wants to pick her up and carry her out, get her somewhere dark where she can sit on his lap and he can shove his thumb in her mouth and hold her there for as long as she needs. Tiger being a little overwhelmed, a little uncomfortable in a place she doesn't want to be in, tiger getting a little small in a place that's not safe for her to be small in and she knows it so she's spiralling a little...oof, Bill morphs into the alpha male that he keeps buried deep, and his own instincts are on fire to protect her, comfort her, provide for her. Throw in a little jealousy on Bill's side because tiger being small is....like, that's his you know? Only he gets to see that. And her mood is completely imperceptible to everybody else, but she may as well have a sign on her forehead that says "PUT ME ON MY KNEES" to Bill. It's so obvious to him, and his feathers are all ruffled because that's his. That's his look.

So alright, maybe tiger is just having a fucking shit week. She's due to be riding the crimson wave in a few days so she's bloated and the tatas are sensitive , her clothes aren't fitting, she's been kind of nauseous all day with a dull ache in the base of her skull. Maybe it's 38754596660 fucking degrees in a heat wave and like, tiger doesn't do heat. Her commute to work is not air-conditioned, so by the time she gets home she's overheated and sweaty and even more puffy and just full of fucking bad feelings. She's physically uncomfortable for a million different reasons, she's tired, SHE'S SO DAMN HOT--it's just all bad.

But it's a friend's birthday and at the moment, tiger kind of thinks that friend is a fucking asshole for organizing something in the middle of the week--let alone the worst week of life--but she's going. They're going. They have to.

But Bill's not convinced.

"You know kid," he says gently as he leans against the doorframe, sipping a beer as tiger tries on the millionth dress. The rejects are in a heap on the bed, and she struggles with the zipper as she shoots him an annoyed look.

"We can sit this one out if you don't feel like going," he says. He doesn't move to help her with the zipper--not when she's in a mood like this. Instead, he just swigs his beer.

"No we can't Bill," she snaps, and with a frustrated huff the dress goes up and over her head and is tossed into the pile of rejects. "She'll be pissed if we miss this."

"Then she's pissed," he shrugs, "We can make it up to her."

Tiger yanks another dress out of the closet, pulls it on. She pokes at it, turns a few ways in the mirror.

"That one's cute," he says.

But then she unties the belt, flings it off so the dress billows loosely around her frame.

"Fuck it," she says, grabbing his beer on her way out of the room, "I'm fucking wearing this fucking potato sack to fucking dinner."

Bill watches as she downs the beer in two gulps.

"Ugh," she mutters lowly, "Fucking lite beer bullshit."

At this point, he really just has all the sympathy in the world for her. Her friends are important to her, and tiger always feels a sense of obligation to never let them down. He knows this is the last place she feels like going tonight, but she's forcing herself to.

And like the thing with tiger's bad moods is sometimes they make her full of piss and vinegar and ready to fight everyone, and sometimes they just make her small. Bill never knows which way it's going to go, but given the fact that she's a little hormonal and he knows she's close to shark week, he can take a guess at which way the dice will roll tonight.

And it basically starts in the car on the way there. She's fidgety, even with the A/C cranked on high. She's pulling at the hem of her dress, huffing, she's rubbing at her temples. At one point she takes the seatbelt, pulling it away from her body and Bill shoots her a quizzical look.

"If my tits could stop feeling like they're about to fucking burst, that'd be great," she mutters.

"I'll give you a massage later tonight," he kisses her knuckles.

"Fuck all of this."

"I know, kid."

And it just gets worse. When tiger is in this kind of mood, really the thing that makes it worse is to just....surround her with people. Surround her with people that she has to fake joy and happiness with. She doesn't have the patience or the fucking energy for it, and despite her best efforts, Bill can see the scowl permanently etched in her forced happy face. And he can see the shift start to happen--the way she fidgets a lot more, and can't get comfortable. The way her shoulders hunch over. The way she's flinching or jumping at loud noises, squinting or wrinkling her features at the bright lights. Her eyes are getting a bit of a spaced out look, she's not really engaging in conversations--everything is just too much. The environment is starting to get way too stimulating, way too overwhelming, and she's getting small on him. He gives her knee a hard squeeze, hard enough to ground her and catch her attention and she jolts.

"You good?" he murmurs lowly. And he knows she's not. SHE knows that he knows she's not. But she forces a fake smile, so wide that it's almost sarcastic.

"Peachy."

A few minutes pass, her knee bouncing, her eyes flitting everywhere, and she stands.

"I need some air," she says, "It's too fucking hot in here."

Bill stands immediately, but she puts a hand on his shoulder and pushes him back down.

"I'm fine," she says, "Really. Just give me a minute."

He doesn't like it, not one bit, but he lets her go. Alone.

A few minutes pass, and sure enough she comes back in. She motions her hand to the bar, but Bill holds up his full pint to let her know he doesn't need another round just yet. She nods, heading there anyway to get a refill for herself.

Bill has eyes on her. Bill always has eyes on her. And tiger doesn't see it, but Bill does--he sees the guy standing next to her give her a little once-over, sees a smirk tilt up the guy's lips, and Bill knows what's about to happen. He doesn't hear the conversation, but he doesn't need to. He sees the guy speak. He sees tiger tense up a little, a tight smile in politeness, and she turns her head to try and make eye contact with the bartender a little quicker.

The guy doesn't get the hint, and keeps talking. Bill stands up. His eyes are on her the whole time, and now she's ignoring the guy. Turning her body slightly away, leaning forward a bit in hopes of getting her order in with the bartender faster. Her shoulders are practically up by her ears, and the guy with the sleazy smirk is still talking. Bill is ready to fucking punch the guy into next week just for the reaction that he's eliciting from his girl--making her scared, making her uncomfortable, even fucking daring to talk to her when she's like this. Bill eats up the distance with quick strides.

He makes it in the nick of time, right as this guy had raised a hand and was poised to place it on tiger's back in a rather unwanted caress. Bill grabs his wrist, steps between him and tiger, and gets real into his space.

"Just try and touch her motherfucker," he growls, "I dare you."

And listen, if nothing else--Bill is tall and that's intimidating as fuck when it gets right up in your space real quickly. But Bill also came out of nowhere, he looks a little crazy, and this guy suddenly ain't so down to rumble.

"Bro, I didn't know--"

But Bill just stands even taller and tiger actually shrinks behind him, her hand gently on his back, and it's the only thing that's keeping him remotely calm. This isn't about his anger. This is about protecting her, especially when she's like this for him, and nothing else matters.

The guy just holds his hands up, and backs away into the crowd. When he's out of sight, Bill turns to her.

"We're leaving kid," he says, and god it's so gentle, "Go wait for me by the car okay?"

"No," she mumbles immediately, fisting at his shirt a little bit, "No, can I stay here with you?"

And he realizes that she's a little scared and just a whole lot overwhelmed, and Jesus he could fucking melt into a puddle for her right that second.

"Of course you can," he tugs on a lock of her hair gently, "Of course you can."

Bill gets the bartender's attention in no time--a giraffe at your bar will do that--and he pays for everyone's tab. They make a hasty exit but he takes the blame--it's par for the course when you're friends with Bill, he's often tiger's ride and he's always getting all kinds of urgent calls--and then they leave.

And listen, the second that they're in the car? Tiger can finally start to let her walls come down, which is just fucking igniting Bill's jealous side and his protector side.

"Are you okay?" he murmurs to her. She looks so fussy, so small for him.

"I want to go home," she whines.

"I know sweet girl, I'm taking you home."

"He was awful Bill," she says, "Ugh, he was so sleazy and so slimy and--and he tried--"

"He tried tiger," he says softly, "He can try all he wants. He'll never have what's mine."

"No he won't," she sniffles. Bill tucks her hair behind her ears, taps two fingers against her lips and she sucks at them.

"Are you mine?" he asks softly, "Is this mine?"

She nods, but he tuts her.

"Yes," she mumbles, "Yours."

"Good," he murmurs. He pulls his fingers from her mouth and she whines, but he drags his hand down and cups her mound softly. She moans and grabs onto his wrist.

"What about this?" he asks, "Is this mine too?"

"Yes," she chokes out, "Yes. God Bill get me home."

"I will sweet girl, I will."

And listen, when they get home? oof. There's no stopping Bill. He can't switch it off, he doesn't want to tame it, and tiger doesn't want him to either. She's his. He's possessive, he's rough, he's jealous--and all it does is make her smaller for him, make her even more soft and subby, which just makes him even more alpha. It's rough because he needs it, SHE needs it, needs the pain of it to feel grounded, needs the sting of a spanking so that she can feel his strength, so she can feel like she's his, so she can feel owned and possessed and protected. And Bill needs to mark her to feel like she's his, because goddamnit it came so close tonight to everyone seeing her only the way he gets to. Too many people almost saw what is only his to see.

For as much as he wants to wreck her, maybe tiger wants to be on her knees for him. Maybe she needs to be on her knees for him. And for however much he might need something else, nights like these are always about her, and what she needs comes first.

#sub tiger #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard drabble #BFF!Bill #oof #it's been a hot minute since we got subby up in hurr #and it does a bitch some GOOOOOOOOOD

87 notes · View notes

golbrocklovely · 2 years

Note

I've been rewatching SnC old series from 2019, The Stanley Hotel and The Witches Forest bc they were kinda my comfort series of theirs back in the day and holy shit they have grown so much. I remember feeling kinda frustrated even back in then when they were going in without preparation (equipment, proper research) and taking things not seriously. I'm glad they dropped Jake and Corey as their filming buddies because I forgot how insufferable Corey could get and Jake was always so indifferent to things, I mean it's good to have a skeptic around but he just made dumb jokes and took nothing seriously.

Also I feel so bad for this Jennifer girl, like she was just existing really and helped them out so much and they were complete dicks to her. Yeah she came off as awkward but still, idk if it was staged that they "found" her in the hotel, but she deserved better. Like I'm sorry but rewatching this gave me the ick, like the talking behind her back making weird faces every time she said something that was actually quite interesting made me so sad for some reason. It's so rude, especially if you fucking film it and post it on YouTube for millionth to see. Idk I also come off as like awkward or weird and to think they would have made fun of me for it and kinda expose me to their huge fanbase is just ugh. I'm glad they treat their guests better now, and I do believe the whole former traphouse dynamic is kinda at fault for that, like they all were a bit immature at that stage and like I said not open to embrace the weird stuff. In the Stanley video they met with this psychic before and omg Jake was like so rude. First of all when she came to greet them he didn't even stood up, (that's a pet peeve of mine) and throughout the entire thing he was being annoyed and childish. Like even if you don't believe in that stuff show a bit respect idk it just set me off for some reason, I'm a very polite person tho so I might be overreacting lol.

hilariously, both of those series were always my least favorite. but i get why you liked them, there were parts that i liked and still do to some degree.

and yeah, the juxaposition between what they used to do then and now is crazy. back then, they literally would go to a place, corey would talk about getting chills, jake would make a fart joke, snc would have to rein them both in, eventually they would talk about the place (sometimes not accurately), explore a bit, and then they would go to do a seance only to have corey throw a fit as if this was his first time collabing with snc, they would do, something scary would maybe happen, corey would bitch that he would want to leave, jake would look bored, and then the video would end.

tale as old as time….

and the jennifer stuff has always been a bit confusing to me. first off, idk if their whole interaction of meeting her was genuine or was just meant to be seen as genuine. i can't see them hiring her to be in the video only to then shit on her the whole time. so i think they did just randomly meet her and then for some reason were uncomfortable by her. idk if they cut stuff out to make her look better or what but it was very strange regardless.

and then them treating her shit was always a bit weird to me. yeah, she was strange and little unemotional, but like… if that was the case why would you continue talking to her and then use her in the next series? and i think you're right about the dynamic of the trap house, it was all very frat boy behavior (aka douchey and childish).

jake being kinda sorta rude to the psychic was always something that was strange to me as well. him not really greeting her isn't really all that weird to me, but like his whole behavior towards her was just like "whatever" and i think that's a bit mean. also, the way the fandom reacted to her at that time was so dumb too.

it was all a bit of a mess and i'm just happy that snc aren't like that anymore and are way more professional.

#ask #personal #sam and colby #corey scherer #jake webber

4 notes · View notes

m3kuroshirt · 3 years

Text

House of Assassins Part Four

links to Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Word count: 1944

warnings: none

The kitchen was warm and inviting, especially so cold and late (early?). Ichigo seated himself at the table, and Grimmjow busied himself with the kettle. As he waited, Ichigo could feel tiredness seeping into his bones, but he knew that if he went home all he would do was stare up at the darkened ceiling, a restlessness running rampant in his mind.

Finally, Grimmjow sat himself down with two mugs of tea. He slid one to Ichigo, and took a sip from the other. “So,” he started. Ichigo bit the inside of his lip as he wrapped both hands around the warm mug. “What’s on your mind? The stuff you can talk about, anyway.” His voice was gruff and tired, but there was no impatience in it. Ichigo took a sip of his tea. It burned the tongue a little, and washed a path of heat all the way down to his gut.

“…I…does it sound stupid if I say ‘I don’t know’?” he mumbled, running his thumb over the smooth ceramic of the mug. Grimmjow shrugged. He ran a hand through his bright blue hair.

“I don’t think so.”

Ichigo gave him a small smile. “Thanks.” He sighed and leaned on the table with his elbows. “I guess…I’m just conflicted. The guy I was talking to…he’s an old family friend. Or rather, an ex-family-friend. But I’m going to be helping him out for a bit. Just…have some mixed emotions about it, I guess,” Ichigo admitted. He took another sip of tea.

“Fair enough. You seem pretty close to your family, it would be weird to work with someone they don’t like,” Grimmjow replied. Ichigo shrugged.

“I guess. We all have varying degrees of…dislike…for him. Rukia doesn’t really mind him, but then her brother works closely with him. And Orihime couldn’t hold a grudge against anyone, even if they tried to kill her.” Ichigo stretched his arms over his head. Grimmjow frowned.

“Hold on…wouldn’t Rukia’s brother also be your brother?” he asked, head tilted to the side and an adorable confused frown on his face.

“Hmm? No. He adopted her. So like, he married her older sister, right? But Rukia and her sister were separated in the foster system early on and never reunited. So Rukia grew up with us instead. But apparently her sister was trying to find her. She married Byakuya and died before she could find Rukia, but Byakuya kept looking. And when he found her, he offered her to be a part of his family. She only agreed as long as he let her stay with us, though.” Ichigo yawned as he finished talking. He rubbed his temples and drank the rest of his tea. “We’re pretty mis-matched for a family.”

“Gotcha.” Grimmjow finished his tea as well, then picked up the mugs to refill them. “So, what did that guy do then? Is that something you can talk about?”

Ichigo stretched his neck from side to side, and definitely snuck a glance at Grimmjow’s backside. He only answered when the other man set both their mugs back on the table. “I…guess, a little. Basically, he tried to get me to work for him. Without really disclosing all the details of the job or how dangerous it was. Kisuke was pissed when he found out.” He rolled his shoulders. “Really, I was fifteen and stupid and eager to make a buck. I took a job, because I figured Kisuke was overreacting, I figured I was fine. Shunsui didn’t do much for teaching me, he figured I should be able to do most of it because I was learning with Kisuke, and I was too naïve to actually realize that I didn’t know everything. I ended up in a coma in the hospital for four months.”

“Fuck. That’s awful,” Grimmjow murmured as Ichigo paused to drink some more. Ichigo nodded.

“Yeah…I wasn’t there when Kisuke confronted him, of course, but I heard he almost killed him.” He ran a hand through his orange hair and scratched his scalp a little. “And that pretty much ended all our contact with Shunsui up until recently.”

Grimmjow leveled him with a look. “And you think it’s a good idea now to do work for him? What changed?”

Ichigo sighed. “It’s not so much that it’s a ‘good idea’, as it is necessary. I’m older now, I’ve got the skillset and the proper teaching. And I’m the only one he can ask to help. It’s not so much for him as it is for Aunty Retsu, anyway.” Ichigo made sure to use her casual name rather than ‘Unohana’. Grimmjow seemed like a nice guy, but he could never be certain what would come up in conversations others had, and he really, really didn’t need his target getting any wind of the job.

“She his wife?”

Ichigo was in the middle of drinking his tea when Grimmjow dropped that question. He coughed and spluttered a laugh. “Oh fuck no!” he gasped, setting his mug on the table. “I mean, she’d keep him in fucking line if she was, but no…no, ew, that would…ugh. No. She’s another friend of Kisuke’s.”

“Hm.” Grimmjow sipped his tea again. Ichigo propped his face up with his palm, leaning more onto the table. He kept his eyes glued to the amber liquid in his cup, since Grimmjow’s piercing gaze felt as though the other man could see every secret if he kept looking in his eyes. “This job is dangerous then?”

“Yeah.” Ichigo didn’t dare lie about that part. Besides, it’s not like his was the only job in the world with risks.

“…be safe, then…” The words were quiet, barely there. But Ichigo heard them. He looked up and met the other’s serious stare.

Ichigo smirked. “Aw, worried about me?”

“Of course I am, idiot. You’re the first friend I’ve made here. Actually, first one I’ve made in years,” Grimmjow muttered into his cup as he turned his face away. He took a long sip, cheeks burning pink.

Friend. The word tugged at Ichigo’s heart, unleashing a barrel of mixed emotions. On the one hand, a warm feeling, recognition that Grimmjow thought of him as more than just ‘a neighbour’, the comfort of having someone he could go to and hang out with outside the little family he’d found himself. On the other, a brief but sharp sting, the worry that this might be all there ever is, that maybe ‘friend’ is all that Grimmjow would ever be willing to associate with him. Ichigo shoved those worries down. I should be grateful he thinks of me as a friend. Especially when I’m keeping so many secrets from him, and he knows I am. He closed his eyes and let the warm scent of the tea seep into his body, surrounding him and bringing him comfort. “Friends, huh?” he murmured. “Friends are good.” It was more to convince himself than anything, but Grimmjow overheard.

“Yeah. I mean, I guess? Like I said, haven’t had many,” he replied in a nonchalant voice. Ichigo gave a non-committal hum.

“They are. Especially nice when it’s someone outside your family, someone you can talk to,” he replied, opening his eyes. His eyelids were heavy with exhaustion, though, and he had to blink a few times before his eyes would focus on the man in front of him.

“Yeah, I suppose.” Grimmjow raised an eyebrow at him in amusement. “You’re looking pretty played out…are you sure you’re good to go home?”

“Hmm? It’s right next door,” Ichigo mumbled, moving to stand. He managed to get upright, but then swayed and stumbled back onto the chair. “Oh damn. More tired’n’I thought.” Grimmjow’s expression morphed from amusement to concern.

“Shit. Don’t try and walk home, ok? You can crash here on the couch if you want, alright?” He stood up and helped Ichigo stand again. “I’ll help you there. Come on.” Ichigo steadied himself on Grimmjow as they walked into the living room. The couch looked incredibly inviting and soft.

Laying on the couch was like sinking into a deep dark warmth. He thought he heard a distant yelp and someone saying ‘wait let go’, but that had to be someone else’s problem. He was tired, too tired to do much of anything let alone help. The inky darkness surrounded him, caressed him, and enveloped him in a gentle warmth and firm embrace. Ichigo gladly let it carry him off to sleep.

***

Grimmjow helped Ichigo to the couch. It wasn’t overly big, and didn’t really look all that comfortable, compared to a bed, but it would do. He eased his friend onto the cushions, then made to move away. But the arms that had been using him as a stabilizer tightened around him and dragged him down. Grimmjow yelped.

“Wait! Let go!” he hissed, but Ichigo didn’t seem to hear him. Grimmjow hesitated to be any louder, lest he wake Nel. Not that she would be angry. But he would never live down the teasing if she saw him like this with their neighbour, especially since she knew all about his crush. His only hope was to extract himself carefully…

…he hadn’t counted on Ichigo being quite so strong. Like, he knew the other man could lift his fair share, had seen him carry things most people would need a partner to handle, but overpowering Grimmjow and trapping him in a hug? In his sleep, of all things? Grimmjow grumbled under his breath as all his attempts to wriggle away were thwarted by a completely oblivious, sleeping, handsome idiot. With all his efforts proving futile, Grimmjow gave in and opted to simply lie there, held firmly on top of Ichigo. He couldn’t see the other man’s face, as his own face was turned to the back of the couch, head resting on Ichigo’s chest, listening to his rhythmic breathing and the gentle thumping of his heart. Their legs were entangled, and Grimmjow tried not to dwell too much on that fact, his face burning. He clenched and unclenched his hands before softly, hesitantly, moving them upward, behind Ichigo, wrapping around his torso slightly.

Why did I call him a ‘friend’? This isn’t how friends react, Grimmjow thought to himself. He was wide awake, and with no reprieve in sight, his mind decided to wander down what had become now an all-too-familiar path over the past couple of months. Dammit. Why can’t I just make the words come out right?

Ichigo’s arms tightened around him briefly, then relaxed slightly, but not enough to let Grimmjow actually worm his way out. Are you even sure he likes you, though? The thought crept into his mind unbidden, for what had to be the millionth time that week. Are you sure Jinta wasn’t lying? Are you sure anyone at all would like you?

Grimmjow grit his teeth and unconsciously tightened his grip on the other man. He only realized how tense he was when he heard a sleepy “…’s tight,” mumbled above him. He relaxed instantly, fear catching in his heart, convinced Ichigo would wake up that instant, throw him off of him, call him a freak, and storm out of the house. He waited for his inevitable fate…one…two…three…

…and nothing happened. There was a soft sigh, and Ichigo’s breathing resumed its steady rate. He hadn’t been fully awake, then. Grimmjow couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. He sighed and resigned himself to being stuck there for now. He might as well try and get some rest if he was going to have to face the rude awakening of the morning. So he closed his eyes and drifted off.

#grimmichi #jaegerjaquez grimmjow #kurosaki ichigo #m34gswrites #house of assassins #au #found family

18 notes · View notes

yamigooops · 3 years

Note

idk if it's still open but; 67&71 with sleepy boi shinsou ??

Oh, I will absoLUTELY write that for you. Ugh too cute!! (Also sorry this was so late lol, I got caught up in a bunch of other pieces)

prompts: “My clothes look really good on you,” and “There’s a thunderstorm outside and you want to do what?” length: 824 words warnings: just pure fluff

~~~~~~~~~~

“There’s a thunderstorm outside and you want to do what?” Shinsou asked, eyebrows raising uncharacteristically at your words.

“I wanna go outside and dance in the rain with you,” you tugged on his hand to get him off the couch. “It’s not like we’ll get cold, it’s 85 (29) degrees out. I think it’ll be fun!”

“Babe, we’re gonna get all wet, why would we do that?” His words came out in a tired groan. You had just finished unpacking everything into your new house and he was exhausted.

“We’re just gonna get in the shower after anyway, so why not get wet early?” You grinned down at your husband as you yanked on him again. He huffed, pushing himself up off the couch and stretching like a cat with a big yawn.

“Fine, I guess you’re not wrong,” he grumbled, scratching his hip sleepily. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Oh, hush, it’ll be fun,” you playfully pat his cheek. Opening the door to your backyard, you looked back at him to make sure he was following. Just to make sure he wouldn’t skip out on you, your hand lace with his as you stepped out into the pouring rain.

With a little squeak, you took in the feeling of the cool water on your skin. It was the kind of rain with the big fat drops that splashed against your skin, soaking everything in what seemed like seconds. Shinsou let out a grunt as he was quickly drenched as well, grey shirt darkening and sticking to his skin. You laughed at the way his fluffy hair deflated with the weight of the water, hanging down into his eyes.

You spun around, arms stretched wide, and head thrown back to bask in the feel of it all, the water sliding down your neck and disappearing under the collar of your shirt. You looked at him once more, catching the look of quiet adoration in his eyes as he approached. He tugged you close, hands on your hips, and pressed his lips to your forehead, not caring about the hair plastered against it. You slung your arms around his neck, leaning into his chest with a grin that could light up the night sky.

How were you so beautiful, even when soaking wet? He asked himself, closing his eyes and resting his cheek against your hair. He could have stayed like this forever, swaying back and forth with you in his arms while listening to the soft thrum of the rain.

Leaning down, he pressed his lips to your ear. “I suppose this was a good idea,” he admitted. Pulling back to look at him, you found his lips turned up in a small smile that was reserved only for you. Shinsou took your hand in his, raising it above your head, and you twirled around beneath it, giggling all the way around before resuming your little dance, gazing at one another with love in your eyes.

“Let’s go warm up and take a nice long shower together,” you suggested after a bit, a glimmer in your eye.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest flush against yours. “Sounds like a plan,” he grinned.

~~~~~~~~~~

You stepped out of the shower a little while later, patting your hair dry as you looked for something to wear. You simply pulled on a pair of underwear and one of Shinsou’s t-shirts, one that was soft and oversized and smelled like him. Stepping out of the closet, you found him sitting on your freshly made bed, scrolling through his phone while also drying his hair.

Stepping in front of him, you placed two fingers beneath his chin and tilted his head up to meet your eyes. “Wet hair looks really cute on you,” you cooed, twining your fingers through the little wet curls lying against his forehead.

He chuckled softly, placing his hands on your hips yet again and pulling you between his legs. “And my clothes look really good on you,” he murmured, pressing his lips softly to your clothed sternum before resting his head against your chest. You stood like this for a little while, running your fingers through his soft hair as his breath warmed your stomach. He ran his thumbs gently over your hips, the feeling making love bloom in your heart for the millionth time since you’d met him.

“Let’s go cuddle and watch a movie,” he suggested, looking up at you. He looked so sweet like this, his eyes glimmering, and mouth curved gently upward. “It’ll be nice to finally relax now that everything is in place.”

You couldn’t help but lean down and press your lips to his in a soft, loving kiss. “I think that sounds wonderful.”

#shinso hitoshi #shinso x reader #my hero academia #mha shinso hitoshi #bnha shinso #shinso drabble #mha drabble #bnha drabble #shinso fluff #mha fluff #bnha fluff

59 notes · View notes

newheart97 · 4 years

Text

Stress relief (Aziraphale x Reader x Crowley

A/N: Hi! It’s my first time posting here so I hope this works out. Do leave a comment if you have any advice or anything you’d like to share. If you leave aside that tha reader has a bra, then the gender is not specified.

Words: 3100-ish

It had been a really stressful week. Your colleague at your part-time job was sick so your boss had asked -more like, ordered- you to cover for her, which meant more shifts, which meant less time to study for the oncoming university exams, which meant that your anxiety and stress levels were rapidly increasing.

You just had a night shift, a stressful, long, boring night shift, waiting on rude and drunk customers and having to bear their behaviour with a smile on your face.

By the time you arrived at Aziraphale’s place, it was already 4 in the morning and your alarm was set to wake you up at 8, as you had to be at your university at 9.30 for the only oral exam you had this year. You quietly opened the door of the bookshop and tiptoed to the sofa in the backroom, not wanting to wake up the angel and the demon, if he had decided to spend there the night, and as soon as your head hit the headrest you fell asleep.

After barely four hours of restless sleep and almost none spent going through your notes, you entered the room where the exam was to take place and started exchanging a few words with your fellow students, some sharing information and some sharing your worries.

At 9.30 sharp, the professor entered the room with a colleague in tow to help him interview the large number of students. The problem was that, even though the number of students was high, the professor had the brilliant idea of NOT separating the exam in two different days and dividing the students between each day, so every student present was left wondering if they would even be able to get everything done that day or they had to come back the next one.

While waiting for your turn, you felt the phone vibrate in your pocket. You took it out and checked it to see a new text from Crowley.

C: Where are you?

(Y): At my university, I have an exam, remember?

C: Oh, yeah, that… When will you be done, again?

(Y): Wouldn’t it be great if I could answer you?

C: What?

(Y): I don’t know when I’ll be done, could be an hour, could be two, could be tomorrow for all I know.

C: What do you mean you don’t know?

(Y): It means ‘I do not know’.

You put your phone momentarily down to check how many students were left -way too many- and just listened to what kind of question were being asked, anxiety raising each time an answer that you should have known decided to flee from your head.

Your phone kept vibrating for a while as you kept trying to ignore it in favour of going through your notes for the millionth time, but in the end, you felt guilty and grabbed it again.

C: Well, tell me when you’re done.

C: Angel is upset he couldn’t see you off this morning.

C: Keeps saying how he wanted to wish you luck.

C: He’s been pacing for half an hour now ‘cause you’re not back yet.

Reading all his text made you relax a bit, stress and anxiety forgotten as you thought about your lovers, how you first met them at the bookshop, Crowley coming up behind you saying that you smelt strange -which initially greatly offended you-, how you found out that you were half demon and how they had helped you come to terms with it, all the ups and downs you went through trying to deal with the feelings you had for both of them until you finally confronted them, giving birth to your current relationship.

Your thoughts were interrupted again by the buzz of your phone. Thinking it was another text from your demon, you hastily opened it without checking the sender, the small smile on your face quickly disappearing when you read the content: it was from your boss.

B: (Y/N), I need you to take tonight’s shift.

You were not having it, today was your day off, he couldn’t just tell you that you had to come work out of the blue, especially when you had informed him that you had an important exam.

(Y): I am sorry, but I don’t think I will be able to come today as I do not know at what time I will be able to leave.

It seemed a quite reasonable excuse, as you really didn’t know at what time you would be done and even then, you would probably be too exhausted to remember not to be rude to customers.

You received another text and you quickly checked it.

C: You do know that you don’t even need to be there, right?

You sighed as you typed the answer, a bit annoyed since you had already had that same conversation at breakfast before your previous exams.

(Y): Do you really need an answer?

C: Just saying, you’re half demon, you don’t need a degree.

(Y): And as I always tell you, I’m half human, I’ve lived as a human for all my life and I’ll get this damn degree if it’s the last thing I do.

(Y): You can’t just expect me to throw away all these years of hard work.

(Y): Zira has his shop; you got your car. What do I have? I’m just an average student struggling to figure what they want to do with their future who just so happens to be half demon and who hasn’t had time to accomplish anything special.

For a while, the phone stayed silent and you turned your focus back on the professor and his assistant. It was almost 12.30, which meant lunch break, but just the idea of eating made you nauseous. As the time went by, you started regretting your little outburst, but you didn’t have the strength to apologize right then. The professor stood up and made his way out of the room after declaring that the exam would start again in an hour.

As you got up too, your phone vibrated again and you unlocked it.

C: You have me and Zira, love.

Your breath got caught in your throat. Where Aziraphale was quite the sweet talker, showering you with words of love, Crowley was more of a showing-through-actions kind of guy -well, demon- so it was rare for him to call you love. That’s why you knew that he really meant it and that’s why every time he said it your breath hitched and your heartbeat picked up the pace.

You slumped back on your seat and typed the answer.

(Y): I know and I am forever grateful to whoever decided to make you appear in my life. It’s just that this is one of my last exams, after that there’s graduation and then I can finally close this chapter of my life, my human life, and fully enjoy the new, incredible, amazing chapter that is you guys.

(Y): Sorry for the outburst there, I’m just a bit stressed, what with the exam and the lack of sleep. Let’s not forget my job!

(Y): I just can’t wait to be able to fully focus on my life with you. I love you guys, so so much. I can’t wait to see you after this.

You put your phone in your backpack and headed to the courtyard to get some fresh air and try to convince yourself that there was nothing to worry about as you did study, you did understand the subject and you would pass with a good grade.

It was almost time to head back into the room when your phone vibrated. You took it out of your backpack and stilled for a second: it was your boss calling, so, even though you really would have preferred ignoring it, you answered.

“Hello, this is (Y/N) (L/N).”

“You need to come in tonight.” he ordered with a harsh tone without even greeting back.

“I’m really sorry but, as I’ve already told you, I don’t think I can make it, they haven’t said when we’ll be done yet.” you answered trying to keep your calm.

“Either you come, or you’re fired.”

If finding another job was easy then you would have had no restraint and just let your mouth run without filters, speaking your mind without worrying too much. Unfortunately, it wasn’t easy so, with all the willpower you could muster, you tried to keep the conversation civilized.

“You can’t fire me for not coming in on my day off.”

“I can and I will if I don’t see you at 9 sharp.” he threatened and hung up.

“What?... ugh… I HATE him!” you half shouted, earning strange looks from the few students around you. You huffed and texted Crowley to let him know that you wouldn’t be able to join them for dinner and to not wait up for you. After that you turned off your phone and shoved it in the backpack, your mood completely ruined, hurrying to the classroom, not noticing the dark clouds that were gathering over your head.

It was 5 in the afternoon and you were still waiting for your turn. As you lazily glanced out the window, you finally noticed how dark the sky had become, darker than it should be at that time of the day. You started cursing the weather forecast guy for saying that it would be sunny and clear all day.

It was nearing the end of the day and the hope of being called was slowly disappearing, while the feeling of having wasted the day doing nothing but wait and worry began making its way to the forefront of your mind, along with the increasing anger at having to go to work when all you wanted to do was cuddle in bed with your angel and your demon boyfriends listening to the various situations they found themselves into, warm and safe in their embrace.

It was 6.30 and just as you were about to give up and leave, you heard your name being called. After the initial moment of shock and disbelief, wondering if you had heard correctly, you quickly made your way to the desk of the professor.

The questions seemed fairly easy, you answered all of them, but the never-changing expression of the man in front of you left you wandering if you had indeed answered correctly or not. After the last question, when you thought that the torture had finally ended and you would know whether you made it or not, the professor had another surprise for you.

“Very well. You will know your grade later this evening via e-mail.”

And with that, he started gathering his things and made his way out of the door, leaving a stunned you behind.

You stayed like that a few more seconds before recollecting yourself and checking the time.

It was 7 and soon the university would close, so you exited the building only to be met with so much rain pouring down that you wondered if God decided to drown humanity again.

You decided to head for your devilish boyfriend’s apartment, as it was closer, to take a quick shower and change your clothes. As you bravely took the first step out of the door, head tilted down to shelter your eyes, the rain that you expected to pour down on you never came.

You lifted your gaze to see a hand holding an umbrella over your head and finally the dark sunglasses hiding the yellow snake-eyes of the man the hand belonged to. The smile with which he greeted you made you want to crumble to the floor and just hug and keep him close.

“Figured you hadn’t an umbrella with you.” he told you with a small smirk.

Suddenly all words escaped your mind and you just hugged him, him embracing you with one arm and leaning down to place a kiss on your head. Relishing in his warmth, you whispered a soft ‘thank you’ and stayed there a few more seconds as he just kept hugging you, not forcing you to say anything.

When you finally pulled away, he smiled at you once more and led you to his Bentley. Once there you turned to him.

“Crow, can you take me to your place? I should still have some clothes there.”

Instead of answering, he just grinned like a child who knows they did something they shouldn’t have done, going the opposite way.

“Crowley, what are you doing? I have to be at work at 9.” you insisted.

“Not really.” he nonchalantly answered while narrowly avoiding a pedestrian.

You knew then and then that he had done something and that most likely you just had become jobless.

Having accepted it as a reality you sighed and calmly asked

“What have you done?”

“Let’s just say the you won’t need to go there anymore.”

‘Well, what’s done it’s done, I guess’ you thought, but there was still one problem: you weren’t heading for the bookshop either.

“Where are you taking me, then?”

Not to your surprise, he didn’t answer your question and limited himself to raising the volume when Bohemian Rhapsody came along.

After half an hour of reckless and aimless driving, you finally parked in front of the bookshop. You were confused but before you could even take one step inside, the demon stopped you, mad you turn around and quickly blindfolded you.

“What are you doing, Crowley?!” you whisper-shouted even more confused.

“Trust me.” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, your cheeks heating up a bit.

“Trust a demon? Now that’s quite the request, isn’t it?” you asked, trying to hide your embarrassment.

He just chuckled as a response and began leading you on the path to what your feet memorised as the room they had previously miracled for you. As you approached the room, you could hear the light shuffle of footsteps and feel the fire’s warmth enveloping you.

Crowley stopped you and took off your blindfold. In front of you, in the middle of the room stood your angel, a warm smile adorning your face. As soon as he opened his arms you jumped straight into his loving embrace, soon joined by the snake, sandwiching you between the two celestial beings, engulfing you in their love.

You all pulled back and Crowley made you sit on the blanket and cushions covered floor.

“Would you like a cup of hot chocolate, love?” Aziraphale asked while pointing at the two mugs standing on the small coffee table in front of you, next to a bottle of red wine.

“Yes, definitely, thank you Zira.” you thanked him, grabbing one of the mugs.

They then sat near you and for a while you just chatted a bit while sipping on chocolate, your boyfriends careful not to mention the happenings of the day.

When you finished the chocolate, your mood the best it’d been in a while, the atmosphere was momentarily interrupted by your phone ringing. You sighed and looked at your lovers, silently asking permission to go check. After they assured you that it was alright, you forced yourself to stand up and go. You did so silently and just as silently you put your phone back down after turning it off and turned around with an unreadable expression on your face.

Worried, your boyfriends approached you, sharing a look.

“What’s wrong, dear?”

Hearing the angel’s concerned voice, you snapped back to reality and after looking at the both of them you beamed.

“I did it! I passed!” you exclaimed before throwing yourself at them.

They relaxed and congratulated you, the serpent saying that he knew you had nothing to worry about while Aziraphale patted your head. You went back to the cushions you were sitting on previously with your angelic boyfriend while Crowley headed out of the room, claiming that he was going to get some more wine to celebrate.

“Love, don’t take it the wrong way, but may I ask you to remove your shirt?”

Now, that was an unusual request from the principality, but after looking at him with eyes wide in surprise and him explaining that it wasn’t what you thought with reddened cheeks, you complied with his demand. He made you lay on your stomach just as you heard Crowley make his way into the room again.

He set what you assumed to be the bottles on the table and passed one to Aziraphale, only that, from what you could see, it was too little to be a bottle of wine. As you were wondering, you felt warm fingers on your back as they gently unclasped your bra. You turned your head ready to ask what was going on to the demon, but when you opened your mouth you gasped at a cold liquid being poured on your back.

Crowley chuckled and watched as realization came across your features and when the angel’s hands began working their magic, he witnessed how you melted, relaxing completely. He soon tugged your pants, wanting to join in on the pleasure-giving work of Aziraphale.

And there you were, only in your underwear and with two pair of hands on your body releasing all the knots the stress had created, your mind in a stated in-between consciousness and dreamland. They kept up the good work until they considered their mission a complete success. Slowly, you felt their hands leaving your body, a small whine escaping your lips, making the beings above you chuckle a bit.

“Don’t worry.” Aziraphale whispered while helping you get up from your relaxed position.

As you were trying to clasp back your bra, Crowley leaned in, kissing you just below your ear.

“I know another way to release your stress.” he said, kissing along your neck and finishing with a bite that promised more to come.

“Well, I can’t wait.” you answered as you tried to stand up only to stumble back down again, your legs feeling like jelly.

“…though, I fear that you’ll have to carry me, your massage left me boneless.”

Your lovers chuckled, the serpent smirking a bit, and Aziraphale proceeded to pick you up and carry you princess style. As you reached your shared bedroom, he gently laid you on the bed.

Useless to say that you didn’t have much sleep that night either but, as you woke up between your lovers, you felt all tiredness leave your body, filling it with love for the ones who turned your life in a beautiful unpredictable mess.

“I love you.” you whispered softly to the sleeping beings.

“We love you too.” they answered back wrapping their arms around you.

#good omens #aziraphale x reader x crowley #aziraphale x reader #crowley x reader #stress #gender not specified #student!reader #caring crowley #caring aziraphale

275 notes · View notes

kat-katsuki · 4 years

Text

Love Letter | Todoroki Shouto x Reader

Synopsis: You wrote a love letter to your crush, Todoroki Shouto, but you debate on whether or not you should actually give it to him.

Word Count: 2.2k

Fluff

~~~~~~~Enjoy~~~~~~~

Dear Shou-kun,

Although we've known each other since first day of high school, we only became close friends for the past three months. I know three months is a little short for some people, but it was enough for me to figure out that I'm madly in love with you. At first, you were a little cold, a little distant and hard to approach, but after we became friends it became obvious to me that you were the kindest soul I've ever met.

I noticed how you always walk on the outside when we go out together, and how you would always keep me on your left side when I'm cold. You're a little dense to emotions, but you'd always do your best to make sure I'm okay. I'm really, REALLY grateful for that time you lent me your shoulder to cry on when my dog passed away, and how you stayed with me the whole night and held me until I fell asleep on you. You're also so patient with me, always helping me with homework, and tutoring me in my worst subjects.

I know you probably only think of me as a friend, like Midoriya and Ochaco-chan... Honestly I can't ask for more! I love being your friend, and I just love being with you! But recently these...romantic feelings of mine, has been getting so strong it's overwhelming. I really don't want to do something that might end up jeopardizing our friendship, but I really can't hold these feelings in anymore. I'm afraid that if I don't tell you now, I might accidentally overstep my boundaries, and I don't want that... If you choose to keep your distance with me after you read this, I completely understand. I just want you to know that I still want to be friends, because whether or not you return my feelings, I'm always going to be there when you need me.

Shou-kun, I like you. I love you. I just want to tell you that.

Yours truly,

(Y/N)

You squealed into your pillow to let out all the stress pent up inside as you wrote the cheesy, almost unbearable letter. Your trashcan was already overfilled by scrunched up sheets of paper, and you lost count of how many letters you have written. Your hands were sour and you just wanted to get this over with, but at the same time there was a small part of you that told you to proofread for the millionth time. "Nnngurhhhghg!" You groaned as you pounded into your pillow.

You sincerely hoped Ashido can't hear you from next door, because she would surely make a big deal out of it. Not that you didn't like Ashido or anything, but you knew she wasn't the best at keeping her mouth shut. "Ugh, fine," you muttered as you got up from your bed and stormed to your desk. You folded the letter neatly and slid it into your little pink envelope. You sealed the envelope with wax. Old fashioned, yes, but you were kind of into that. You had a collection of wax stamps and you post wax stamping videos on tiktok, since it was satisfying. Of course, nobody in the class except Todoroki actually knows about it.

Now here was the real question. When do you give it to him?

"Back to groaning?" You asked yourself in the small mirror you stuck on the wall. You nodded. "Back to groaning it is." You plopped on your bed and covered your face with the pillow and rolled around back and forth making weird muffled noises.

The next day, you carefully stuck the letter in your textbook before stuffing it into your backpack.

"Good morning (Y/N)," Todoroki greeted you during breakfast. The seat on his left was open for you. Your heart clenched at the sight of him. Seeing his soft smile first thing in the morning was enough to make your day.

"Good morning Shou-kun," you smiled at him as you sat down next to him. Today was the day. You're going to find some time to hand the letter to him. But when?

"Something wrong (Y/N)?" Todoroki asked.

"Huh? N-No, nothing's wrong. Why?" you chuckled at him.

"You looked like something is bothering you. Is it the math homework? Do you need help?"

Oh god you love this man. "No, it's nothing, really! Thanks for worrying about me Shou-kun!" you told him.

You walked to class with Todoroki, Midoriya, Uraraka, and Iida. Everything was normal, but your backpack, for some reason, seemed to weigh twice as much as usual. In class you kept flipping through your textbook to glance at the letter, as if making sure it's still there. You thought you were being discreet about it, but little did you know you had eyes on you from all over the class.

During break time your friends were engaged in a conversation, so you missed your chance to give him the letter. Lunch break was too chaotic. Then you had hero training... As time went on you became less and less sure of yourself. Should you really give the letter to him? What if he doesn't want to be your friend anymore? Should you give it to him discreetly? Or do you give it to him directly? Should you just stick it in his desk? No.... You can't seem to find the right time when no one's in the class. How about the shoe box? But there's always people walking around the halls too.....

"Is it just me or has (Y/N) been acting weird today?" asked Kaminari, who happened to sit next to you in class. "I kept seeing her flip through her English textbook throughout the whole day." You had gone to the restroom during break between your math and physics class in the afternoon.

"Oh yeahhh, I saw her roaming around the shoe box area today. She was acting very sus," said Sero.

"Oh yeah, I saw her walking around holding an envelope. Wonder when she'll mail that out," Kirishima added.

"Envelope?!" the girls exclaimed.

Mina's eyes started to sparkle. "It's a love letter! It's definitely a love letter!"

"W-Wait, you don't know that!" Jirou exclaimed.

"It has to be! I mean think about it, why else would she be walking around the shoe box area if she wasn't planning on putting the letter in someone's box?!" Hagakure beamed.

The whole class started to play detective, trying to guess who the mystery man is. Meanwhile Todoroki sat there feeling really weird. There was a strange churn in his stomach, and a tight clench in his heart. His brows furrowed tightly without himself even noticing. There was only one thing on his mind. Who is the love letter for?

Everyone got super quiet when you came back, acting natural as they all sat down in their seats waiting for physics to start. During the whole lecture, people darted their eyes at you, to confirm what Kaminari said about you and the English textbook. And you didn't disappoint. You had been flipping through that textbook every other minute, a very conflicted expression playing on your face.

Todoroki had no idea why he felt angry. No, that was an understatement. He was infuriated, but he didn't know why. It was your freedom to like whoever you liked, so why is he so angry about it?

When school was over, you still hadn't given the letter to him. At this point you were thinking about giving up. Doubts filled your thoughts and you were sure by now that this was a stupid idea. It'll ruin your friendship, and that's the last thing you want. You'll have to get rid of this letter before anyone notices it.

"(Y/N), you wanna go back to the dorm together?" Todoroki asked you. He felt guilty for keeping you to him, because he knew you still hadn't delivered the letter yet. However, there was a voice inside him that told him to do whatever it takes to stop you from delivering that letter.

"Ah! Okay!" You were quick to respond. If you weren't going to confess, all you can do is enjoy every moment with him. "Do you wanna do homework together?"

Todoroki eyed your backpack, which he knew the envelope was in. "Yeah."

While the two of you did your homework in his room, he kept eyeing your English textbook. You haven't touched it since you took it out of your backpack. You seemed to be avoiding English homework, focusing on your worse subjects such as math and physics. The longer he stared at the textbook, the tighter his chest felt. "Who is it?" He blurted out.

"What?" Your head shot up from your homework, confused eyes meeting his heterochromatic orbs.

"The lucky guy. Who is it?" he asked. "The one you wrote the letter for."

Your face immediately heated up a thousand degrees. Your mouth hung open but words trafficked at the tip of your tongue. "H-How did you- I-I thought-"

"Sorry.... Kirishima was the one who noticed your letter.... I was just wondering..." Todoroki rubbed the back of his neck. He hated the way you blushed at the mentioning of the letter. "Whoever that guy is, he must be really amazing."

"I-I...uh-.....well.....um....y-yeah....he is....." You had no idea what you were doing. Words came out all jumbled, and you didn't know what to say to him.

Todoroki's fist clenched under the table. "Who is it?"

"W-Why do you want to know?" you asked.

"I just-" That's right. It's none of his business. "Never mind. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"It's you," You blurted. You took in the sight of him widening his eyes at you. It was too late to regret, so you just continued. "The letter is addressed to you...." You took out the letter from your English textbook. You slid the letter towards him and packed up your bags. "I'll....go back to my room. Feel free to take as long as you need with your reply." You burst out of his room and dashed across the floor to your dorm.

You did it. You gave it to him. You slammed the dorm room door closed behind you before sliding down against it. You held your head in both hands, groaning to yourself. Oh no.... Why?!?!! Why did I give it to him??!!!! GAHHHH! You were ready to jump off this building. Goodbye world, you've had a good life.

You were absolutely conflicted between excited and devastated. There was a small part of you that had the tiniest bit of hope that Todoroki returned your feelings, but the realistic part of you knew that your friendship was over. You laid on your bed, hugging your little panda plushy that he gave you for your birthday. You buried your face into the plushy and let it swallow your groans and whines.

Todoroki was left in a blushing mess after reading your letter. The person you like is him. You said you love him. He clutched his chest to feel the rapid beating of his heart. It was beating so hard that he could feel his pulse echoing in his ears. What is this feeling? He was unbelievably happy. Suddenly a voice spoke in his head. I like her. It was his voice. I like her so much.

A long time had passed since you went back to your room. You knew you told him to take as long as he need, but you didn't realize that each second felt agonizingly long as you anticipated how he was going to reject you.

You were about to fall asleep when you heard someone knocking at your door. You half hoped it wasn't Todoroki, because you weren't ready for a rejection just yet. Taking in a deep breath, you opened the door to meet a familiar pair of heterochromatic orbs, the ones you loved so much. "Shou-kun..."

"Can I come in?" he asked.

"Of course." You made way for him to step inside, then you closed the door. He held the envelope in his hand.

"I read your letter," he told you. Your eyes were still a little bit blurry from closing them for so long, but you thought you vaguely saw a hint of redness on his cheeks.

"O-Oh..." You rubbed the back of your neck. "It was cheesy, wasn't it?"

"N-no...it was sweet," he replied, making the blush on your face deepen.

"I-I see..." You looked down. There was an awkward silence between the two of you. You just fidgeted as you waited for him to collect his words. Surely he must have felt guilty for rejecting a friend, so you gave him time.

"I like you too..."

What?

You looked up, eyes wide and awake. The redness on his cheek had become quite obvious. "Pardon?"

"I like you too.... A lot. I-...I was wondering if you um...." He held the envelope up, eyes darting back and forth between you and the door. "If you want to be my girlfriend...."

Holy shit.....

You slapped yourself in the face.

"(Y/N)?!?!?!?!" Todoroki exclaimed, completely horrified.

"It hurts..." you muttered at the stinging sensation on your left cheek.

"Well of course it does! It's turning red! Why did you slap yourself so hard?" Todoroki exclaimed as he quickly placed his right hand over your cheek. The cool temperature on his hand was really soothing to the pain on your face.

You chuckled, "I wanted to make sure I was actually awake!"

"Don't do that again," he said softly, brows furrowed as he gazed at you. "Promise me."

"I won't do it again Shou-kun, I promise!" You placed a hand over his right hand, tilting your head a little to rest your face in his hand. "I'm so happy this isn't a dream."

"(Y/N)..."

"Hmm?"

"Can I kiss you?"

"Yes please." You tip toed to meet his lips. You were intrigued by how half of his lip felt hot, and the other felt almost chilly. Maybe it was because he was using his quirk to cool your face. "I love you Shou-kun. I want to be your girlfriend."

"I love you too (Y/N). I want to be your boyfriend."

A/N: You know how some people spell Shouto with a ‘u’ and some people spell it Shoto, well I tend to go back and forth with it depending on my mood LOL. Idk why. Anyways! Please like if you enjoyed, and reblogs are appreciated!!! If you like my BNHA content, be sure to check out my AO3 which I post my main Bakugou x OC fanfic.

#todoroki shoto #bnha todoroki #bnha #bnha fanfic #mha #boku no hero x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha fanfic #todoroki x reader #todoroki x you #todoroki shouto #todoroki fluff

19 notes · View notes

13-reasons-ideas · 4 years

Text

Can’t Go Back Part 10

A/N: Thank you for your patience. There is no smut this chapter. That will be the next Before chapter. I liked ending it on a cute note between Addy and Monty. Feedback is appreciated.

Keeping my relationship with Montgomery was easier and more thrilling than I expected it to be. There were stolen kisses in alcoves, a seemingly endless string of text messages, dates disguised as studying, and a few more sleepovers than anticipated. My friends and family had yet to pick up on anything and we were going on a month and a half of dating. I wonder how long we can keep this up. Surely it won’t be much longer.

An unseasonably chilly Monday morning in early November, I woke up before my alarm and snuggled under the covers. I had just fallen asleep again when my alarm went off. Groaning, I sat up and crawled out of bed. I breezed through my morning routine and threw on a black knitted sweater with a pair of dark wash ripped jeans. I grabbed a t-shirt to throw in my bag in case it got hot without looking. My hair was thrown up into a messy, yet styled bun and my current daily makeup was applied.

My parents were enjoying their morning coffees at the island when I came downstairs. Noticing me, my mom sat up straighter and dad cleared his throat. Uh oh. “Morning.” I greeted, timidly.

“Morning sweetie.”

“Morning.”

“What’s going on?”

“Your father and I were just talking about this weekend.”

“Alright? Why did you clam up as soon as I walked into the room?”

“You know I have that conference in Chicago this weekend.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s been on the calendar for months. What’s the big deal?” I asked, as I made my way around the kitchen getting my breakfast ready.

“I found out this morning that Dave has a family thing this weekend, so I have to go to Scottsdale in his place.” “Okay. You’ll both be out of town at the same time. What’s the big deal?”

“No need for tone Addison.” My dad scolded. I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

“It’s not a big deal at all Addy. It is just short notice is all.” Mom added.

“The usual rules apply, you know. No crazy parties. Only Justin is allowed over and he sleeps in the guestroom.”

“I assumed.” I nodded and looked at the clock on the wall. Finishing the last of my breakfast, I gathered my books, threw the shirt in my bag, and grabbed my car keys. “I’ll be home later than usual. I have an assignment to work on after school.”

“We will leave some dinner out for you. Have a good day at school.”

“Mhmm. Of course you will.” Dad muttered, checking his phone for the probably millionth time since he got up.

When I got to school, there was a strange buzz in the air. People were whispering amongst themselves. That in and of itself wasn’t out of the ordinary, but the way they died down when certain people-mainly girls-passed, was a dead giveaway. Nothing changed when I walked past which was fine by me. “Before you say anything, it wasn’t me.” Justin said as he slid next to me at my locker. I sighed.

“What wasn’t you?” I grumbled. I was still annoyed with him for the photo of Hannah that got sent around.

“The list.” He stated, shrugging, as though I would know what that meant. “And I know you’re still mad at me but Addy please. You know I wouldn’t send something like that around. You know how Bryce is.”

“I know. But you also didn’t do anything to stop it. What list?”

“I said I was sorry.”

I sighed heavily. “If I decide to let it go, will you tell me what the hell you are talking about?”

“Yes.” He nodded eagerly.

“Fine. I forgive you or let it go or whatever. Now what?”

“There’s this list going around. You aren’t on it but it like… rates girls.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Yeah, why the tone of surprise? We go to Liberty High.”

I shrugged, knowing he wasn’t entirely wrong. “I’m not. It doesn’t make it okay though. Do you know who made it?”

“Rumour has it, it was Standall.” I shook my head in disbelief and closed my locker. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I smiled slightly, even though I was still horrified at the situation.

As stupid as the list is you’d still top mine.

That list is deplorable Montgomery.

Deplorable, huh? New vocab words?.

Yeah. I gotta head to class. Text you during break.

Sure thing. Everything okay?

Yeah. I’m just tired, no worries.

I locked my phone as we passed Justin’s friends, all clearly pouring over the list. I tried to ignore the slight sting in my chest as I heard Monty join in. I knew he had to play along to keep up appearances with his friends, but it still sucked having to listen to the bragging and hoopla of the group. I must have sighed aloud or something because Justin stopped me a few feet away.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Hmm? Yeah. It was just a long weekend is all.”

“Did you want to cut and talk? I know you aren’t thrilled with me or anything right now, but I’m still your best friend.”

I paused, thinking for a moment, before nodding. “Yeah, sure.”

We walked to a side exit and made it seem as though we were getting a forgotten book from my car.

After we checked that the coast was clear, I drove to Monet’s for a to go order and continued to our spot by the hiking trails overlooking town.

I took a long sip of my latte and stared out at the skyline. “Dad just frustrates me sometimes.” I stated.

“I know.”

“It’s like I’m only worth paying attention to when he needs something. Any other time, I doubt he would even know if I was there or not. Or if he wants to share his opinion on one of my life choices.”

“Is that what this is about?”

“No. Yes. I guess?” I shrugged. “This weekend mom and I were talking about college and what I would be interested in doing, nothing serious, just talking. And all of the sudden, dad comes in from his office and is all ‘that’s a waste of a degree’ and all this other crap. She tried to get him to let it go but he just wouldn’t hear it. Eventually she gave up to go work on her paper and he just went on and on. I know that it’s not what he imagined for me, but it’s what I want. And its not like we were being super serious about anything. I have time to change my mind still.”

“Well what were you guys saying?” “We were talking about what courses I could take that would be general enough to use for any major should I choose to switch and what courses would be a waste of time. I have two years to decide this stuff Justin. We were just talking and having girl time.”

“Of course he had an issue with that.” He muttered. “What happened after Margot left?”

“I was tired of him yelling at me and so I snapped. I called him out on his bull and told him it was all hypothetical at this point anyway so what does it even matter? He didn’t think it was appropriate to take that kind of tone with him. I told him where he could shove it and slammed my door on him. I ended up staying in my room all day yesterday.”

“Wow. He really needs to… I don’t know what. But whatever it is, he needs to do it.”

“Tell me about it. And then this morning, I found out that they’re both going away on business this weekend because Dave can’t make it, and he was acting like I was going to throw a ragger or something. You know, when he bothered to look up from his phone and acknowledge my existence.”

Justin shook his head. “I’m sorry Addy. It’s not like he would know if I came over and slept in your room though. Keep you company.”

I mulled it over for a while I was going to see if Montgomery wanted to come over. “Nah, I think I’ll be alright. It’s only a couple of days.” I checked my watch and noticed that first period was almost over. “We should get going, I have an assignment due next period.” Justin nodded and we silently gathered our things.

“I really am sorry about what happened with the photos.” Justin finally said as we walked back into school.

“I’m not the one you need to tell that to. But telling her is a decision that is in your hands.”

“I know. It’s just high school though. Not like anything serious will come of it.” He said, brushing the whole ordeal off. I shrugged, not really having an opinion. The bell rang and it just so happened that we were near one of Jessica Davis’ classes. I caught Justin’s eyes wandering her body and I rolled my eyes.

“Don’t even say it, you creep.” I joked, immediately knowing what he was thinking.

“What? I wasn’t going to say anything.” He shrugged, giving me that puppy dog look that he is convinced absolves him of all his sins. I shook my head and shoved him playfully. Before I could say anything else, I heard my name being called from up the hall.

Turning, I saw Jeff waving me over. “Addison. Hey, come over here for a minute. We need a girl’s perspective on something, and Leah is busy.” Perplexed, I turned Justin, who shrugged at me. I sighed as we made our way over to the small group of boys, gathered around Jeff’s locker. I nodded politely at Garrison and turned my attention to Jeff. “Yes Jeff?”

“My less… experienced friends here, seem to think that the list going around is just a joke. Something to be laughed at.”

Of course, this is about the damn list. Fucking Standall. I made brief eye contact with Monty and he raised his brow slightly. He looked intrigued. “Right. Well I can assure you that as a woman, if someone I was interested in or seeing, thought it was funny or meaningless, there would be much more talking and consideration on my part before any more… experience… were to occur.” I explained, choosing my words carefully. I watched discreetly as my words sank in and Monty’s face pinched ever so slightly.

“See? What did I tell you? Girls care about these things. Now why don’t you all run along and try to be decent human beings for another hour until lunch.” Jeff laughed.

“Ugh. I need to run. Don’t want my English assignment to be late. Later Justin. See you Jeff. Boys.”

Walking to lunch as I read a not school related novel, I was shocked when a hand grabbed my arm and pulled me into an empty classroom. I let out a quiet shriek reflexively. “Relax, it’s just me.” Monty said, letting me go.

I took a deep breath as he wrapped his arms around me. “Hey.” I sighed against his chest.

“Missed seeing you this morning.”

“Me too. I had some stuff to do before school.”

“It didn’t have anything to do with the list? I thought you and Alex were friends.”

“No, it didn’t. And we aren’t friends necessarily. More like acquaintances. After this little stunt, I’m not sure I want to be friends with him.”

“That’s totally up to you Addison. How was your weekend?” Do I want to talk to him about it? Not really. At least not now.

“It was okay. Yours?”

“It was alright. Spent the weekend with Bryce.”

“Sounds like fun.” I murmured.

“His parents are in Cuba or Mexico or something.”

“Lovely.” Good for them. “That reminds me, my parents are both going to be out of town this weekend for work stuff. You can come over if you want?”

I looked up at him, watching him organize his schedule in his mind. “I’ll have to double check but I think I can come over after the game Friday.”

“Sounds good. Just let me know before Friday.” I gave him a hug and my phone vibrated in my front pocket.

“Damn Addy, what are you packing today? And why didn’t you lead with that when you asked about this weekend?” He joked, smirking jovially.

“It’s my phone you fiend.” I smirked back, rolling my eyes. I left the response in reference to this weekend open ended. You never know what might happen.

Checking my phone, I glanced at my texts. It was from Justin. Did you get locked in the bathroom or something? Where are you? “Shit, Justin wants to know where I am. I’ll see you in chem.” Had to ask Mr. David a question about this week’s reading and we got talking. I’ll be there in a minute. Don’t worry about saving me a seat, I need to talk some sense into Alex before he digs himself into a deeper hole.

Fair.

I walked up to Alex determined to give him a piece of my mind. I cleared my throat and he looked around, cutting Bryce off. “Addy. Hey, what’s up?” He asked nonchalantly. I arched my brow, hoping to convey my displeasure. You’re dealing with a boy here. Justin was watching me from his seat at the table. When we made eye contact, he seemed unsure if he should be standing up to stop this or if he should sit back and watch the show. I glanced towards the cafeteria door when Monty walked in, waltzing to his usual seat at the table. I felt myself becoming ballzier as the boy’s attention was caught.

“That was a really shitty thing to do Alex.”

“What was?”

“Don’t play stupid with me. The list.”

“You care enough to talk to me about it?”

“Awe, is the little bookworm upset she wasn’t included?” Bryce mocked. Justin’s head twitched towards him quickly, readying himself to step in.

“Shut the fuck up Walker. I’m not in the mood for your sexist bullshit today.” His and Alex’s eyes widened at my response, not used to me speaking my mind like that. “I’m not friends with Jessica or Hannah, but that doesn’t matter. And there were other girls on it. Comparing girls is a fucked up thing to do. I get you’re upset or whatever because of whatever happened between the three of you, but that kind of thing can ruin people’s lives.”

“It’s just a list Addison. It was for fun.”

“This time it was. It’s only fun until someone gets hurt. For your sake, I sincerely hope no one does.” Having said my piece, I turned and walked away. I noticed Tony Padilla watching the ordeal unfold with his boyfriend, Ryan Shaver. Nodding to them, I scanned the room for a place to sit. My eyes skipped over Hannah sitting by herself at the end of a table. They landed on Jeff sitting with Leah and Clay. I walked up to them and waved to sit.

“Hey Addy.” Clay greeted. I took the proffered seat and pulled out my chemistry textbook.

“Hey Clay. How goes the tutoring?”

“It goes.” Jeff responded.

“He’s more interested in Clay’s love life than the material.” Leah added.

“I see. Love life? What does the love life of Clay Jensen look like?”

“Hannah Baker.” Jeff smirked.

My eyebrows raised, impressed. “Justin says she’s sweet.”

“Justin is an ass.”

“He’s my best friend. And he’s not an ass. He’s just… selective about who he likes.”

“Addy, that’s polite for ‘he’s an ass’.” Clay responded, turning his attention back to Jeff. “Focus Jeff….” I tuned out the educational bits of what they were talking about, instead focusing on my own schoolwork. Justin texted me, breaking my concentration.

Bryce says you need to stop hurting his feelings.

Well tell Bryce and his tiny dick… I mean ego, he can grow up and if he didn’t say stupid shit, I wouldn’t have to. I looked up to watch his reaction. He ducked his head and bit his lip to hold back a laugh. Bryce tried to grab his phone to see what I said, but he slid it in his pocket quickly. I caught Monty quirk his brow at me and smiled softly at him. Pulling up his contact, I shot him a quick text. Don’t worry about it.

On my way to chemistry after lunch, I ran to the washroom to change quickly because I was starting to sweat. “Addy.” I vaguely heard a voice call behind me. I wasn’t sure if I was hearing things or not, so I ignored it. “Addison.” The voice called again. Again, I ignored it. “Yo. Hawthorne.” This time, it was much closer. I pulled out an earbud and looked to my left. Montgomery was walking beside me, trying to fall in step.

“Oh hey. Since when do you say ‘yo’ to me?”

“When I call you like four times and you don’t say anything.”

“Sorry, I was listening to a new album. Got a little too into it.” I turned to him again and he was scanning me appraisingly. “Hey. My eyes are up here buddy. Also I’m Justin’s friend so I don’t know what you think is going to come of you looking at me like that.” I chastised, noticing a couple of people stopping to watch us. When they looked away, I smiled at him brightly.

“Well I was thinking something along the lines of those little cookie sandwiches you make Justin all the time.”

I smirked. “Macarons? Try again in three months. Need to make sure you’re worth the effort of those delicious little hell circles.”

“Don’t worry, I will.” We arrived at our chem class and before he walked to his seat, he slipped in one more comment. “Nice shirt by the way.” I thought nothing of it until I was changing into my pyjamas that night. No wonder people were looking. Hopefully we don’t need damage control.

The rest of the week passed with few incidents. Hannah and Jess’ not talking was even more strict now. My dad was preoccupied with getting ready for his trip, so he left me alone for the most part. Monty and I continued as we had been, discussion of Monday and the list set aside for now. He had confirmed plans with me Wednesday night. I heard him confirm to Bryce that he had family coming to town this weekend, so he had to be home. I smirked into my book as I passed them. If Justin noticed, he didn’t say anything.

Friday morning, I was digging through my locker for my biology assignment, which had mysteriously disappeared from its place in my binder, when I felt someone beside me. “I told you Justin, I’m fine by myself this weekend. I’ll probably just watch SVU reruns or something.”

“Not Justin, but SVU doesn’t sound like a bad time.” Monty laughed. I jumped, not expecting him.

“Hi.” I said, still digging through my locker.

“What are you looking for?”

“My biology assignment. It’s due in like fifteen minutes and I can’t find it anywhere.” I heard him rummage through his bag briefly.

“You mean this biology assignment?”

I whipped my head around and frowned at him. In his hand, was my worksheet, slid neatly in a sheet protector. My frown softened and I looked at him questioningly. “Where did you find that?” He held it out to me.

“You left it on your desk in chemistry yesterday, so I grabbed it for you.” In my relief that my assignment wasn’t gone, I hugged him quickly.

“Thank you thank you thank you. You are literally a life saver right now.”

He chuckled before coughing slightly. “School.” He muttered to me.

“Shit yeah. Sorry.” I mumbled as I let go of him. “Justin isn’t making me go to the game, so is it okay if I skip it? I’ll make you congratulations dinner.”

“Sounds fair. What’s for dinner?”

“I haven’t decided yet. Depends what we have in the fridge. Also how do you feel about boardgames?”

“Love them as long as I’m not playing with Scott.”

“Last I checked, I’m not Scott so that’s good. I’ll see you at my place. You can finally have a proper tour of the house and see what it’s like coming in the front door.”

“Looking forward to it.”

After school, I checked what we had in the fridge. “Hmm… leftover lasagna, pork chops, ground something. Six different kinds of cheese.” Next was the pantry, “we have like eight different kinds of noodles. Could do mac and cheese.” Hey babe, how does mac and cheese sound?

That sounds good.

Okay. Good luck tonight. He didn’t respond so I went upstairs to change, after connecting my phone to the Bluetooth in the living room. “Hey Siri, play I Prevail playlist.”

“Okay, playing I Prevail playlist.” Instantly, the heavy sounds of guitar and bass riffs filled my home. I changed into the shirt I wore the other day and a pair of shorts, so I was comfortable for the night.

While dinner was cooking, I gathered a few boardgame options and an extra pillow for Montgomery, humming and singing softly to myself. He knocked on the door around seven. “It’s open.” I called from my place at the stove. He walked in and I could feel his eyes on my body, though I ignored it and the butterflies it caused in my stomach.

“I didn’t think you would like whatever this is. It’s also loud. Hear it outside loud.” He spoke into my ear, causing me to jump, yet again. He needs to stop doing that. I might buy him a bell for his birthday.

“Jeez. Hey Siri, pause music.” The music cut off. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me. And there is no other way to listen to this.” I smirked mysteriously.

“Somehow I doubt that but okay Addy.” He kissed my cheek softly and I felt the dampness of his hair against my face.

“Please tell me that isn’t sweat.”

“I showered after the game. Don’t you worry your pretty little head.” I caught him reaching out for the lid of the mac and cheese.

“Hot!” I exclaimed, reaching out to stop him. “I took it out of the oven like ten minutes ago and it’s cast iron.” He nodded.

“How’s about that tour?” He asked, patting my butt as he moved to step around me back to the island. I surprised him when my hips followed his hand as he pulled it away. Turning to watch him suck in a sharp breath, I giggled.

“Don’t be getting any ideas there, buddy.” He muttered something under his breath I couldn’t catch. It sounded like something about “innocent” and “has no idea”. Before he could make any further comment, I clapped my hands together. “Tour. Starting here, I guess. This is the main floor.” I spread my arms, expositorily. Taking his hand, I led him back to the front door. “Front closet. Feel free to hang your coat up here or put it on this… lovely… piece of furniture Gran insisted we keep”, indicating towards the brown antique looking catch all bench that matched approximately zero of our other décor. “Lovely. Sure. That’s one word for it.” He chuckled.

“Mum asked Dad if we could keep it in the garage and only bring it back out the once a year Gran comes back stateside. The trouble is, this thing weighs like two hundred pounds because it’s all solid wood. It lives here because we aren’t doing that twice a year. This is the living room. We sit and watch TV here. The La-z-boy is off limits. Dad will know if someone sits in it before he steps in the house.”

“Noted.”

“You’ve seen the kitchen. Nothing too special here, except the fancy coffee machine we use on weekends or when company is here. Justin loves it. Dining room is there, we use it on holidays or when family is in town. And finally, the main floor powder room. Don’t think I need to explain much here. There is extra soap in the bottom drawer of the vanity.”

“Nice.” He smiled, looking around.

“Upstairs?”

“Lead the way m’lady.” I looked at him, my face melting into a confused frown. He shrugged at me.

“I have my own secrets Addy.” I nodded, leading him upstairs. The upstairs consists of a hallway with doors, so it was easy for me to point out the rooms. “Guest bathroom at the end of the hall-extra soap under the sink, same goes for my bathroom, guest room, office, my room, and my parents’ room is at the other end of the hall.” With the tour finished, we went back downstairs for dinner. We ate in comfortable silence, sneaking coy glances at each other.

“Ready to lose at Monopoly?” He asked, looking at the stack of games sitting on the coffee table.

“Ha! You wish.” We quickly set up the game and got comfortable in the living room. I grabbed the blanket off the couch and wrapped myself up in it. When I looked up, Montgomery was looking at me with the softest face I had ever seen him wear. “What?” I blushed.

“You look cozy. It’s cute.” He muttered. I smiled softly and ducked my head to hide my deepening blush.

“Shut up and pick a piece.”

“Ladies first.” I quickly grabbed Scottie Dog. He chose the race car and so began the most intense, hilarious game of Monopoly ever played. There was swearing left and right. We laughed at each other when we got crappy Chance cards. There may also have been some cheating, but we pretended not to notice if we caught it. Monty won unfortunately and I sulked for a minute before grabbing Ticket to Ride Europe. Again, it was intense and close until the final tally. He got longest route for ten extra points, smiling triumphantly to himself. That is, until we counted up cards and I had over a hundred more points. His smile dropped of his face immediately.

“What? How did you do that?” I handed him my cards.

“Many, many small routes I already had.”

“Mhmm.” He squeaked. After a few more games, we decided to call it a night and head up to bed.

18 notes · View notes

marvelousstevetony · 4 years

Text

Stay tonight?

Sooo... this is the first fic I’ve ever really finished and I just wanted to put it out there for anyone to find if they’re in need of some super soft boys in critical and sad times like right now...

English is not my first language and there’s probably a whole lot of mistakes, so I apologize about that.

But ok, here we go. 10k+ words of soft Stony: Steve is sick and can’t sleep and Tony kinda helps. Then they get called into action and Steve gets hurt. Suddenly both of them start feelings this they’ve never felt before.

*Light angst and fluff. Lots of fluff.

————————————

As Tony exhaustedly stumbled his way towards his room at 4:20 AM, he decided to make a pit stop in the communal kitchen, as he supposed he should at least eat something after spending the entire night and the majority of the day before in the lab, perfecting his suit for the millionth time.

He stifled a yawn and harshly rubbed his eyes, but then his body turned stiff at the muted sound coming from the room he was about to enter. Tony was curious by nature, and even though the efficiency of his brain were nearing the 50%, he still felt the need to examine the source of the noise. Just before turning around the corner to the kitchen he wondered who the hell (apart from himself of course, this had been a part of his daily routine for a while now) would be up at this atrocious hour.

Tony wouldn’t say he was startled — surprised but not startled — when the figure that was nearly collapsed over the kitchen table turned out to be the one and only Steve Rogers, his head buried in his palms. It wasn’t like it was the first time Tony had run into Steve in the middle of the night, however, this wasn’t under the usual circumstances.

Normally, Steve would be up and ready, drinking a glass of water, wearing his running gear and be ready to get out the door for his daily 10-mile jog. (Which wasn’t really a jog. For anyone else, Steve’s pace was basically their maximum speed, but that’s the perks of having a super-soldier-serum injected into you.) Today, however, Steve didn’t seem particularly lively and spry, which Tony found odd. His back was hunched over, a complete 180 from his usual perfect posture. He was wearing an oversized sweater, by which Tony was impressed, it was normally quite the challenge finding clothes that fit Steve’s muscular build let alone finding something that was too big. He looked so small, Tony thought to himself, which seemed impossible for someone Steve’s size. A strange unfamiliar feeling spread inside Tony’s chest, it was warm and uncomfortable, he thought, and tried to shake the feeling off before finally entering the kitchen.

Steve was still leaned over the table, so Tony reckoned he hadn’t acknowledged him just yet. Under normal circumstances, Tony would’ve been slightly offended that Steve wasn’t able to just sense his presence, but he let this one slide. He cleared his throat to gain Steve’s attention, which had an immediate effect. Steve looked up, his eyes were bleary, and his hair was ruffled and messy, which Tony found strangely intriguing. He noticed how Steve’s face was abnormally pale, apart from his cheeks and the tip of his nose which were flushed slightly pink. He seemed rather confused, a bit disorientated perhaps, then squinted at Tony.

“Oh, um… Tony?“ Steve croaked, voice was weak and fragile, then he coughed slightly.

“Morning Cap. I guess you’re already up for your daily suicide of a marathon,” Tony quipped, at which Steve huffed a laugh that launched at small coughing fit followed by a shaky wheeze. Tony narrowed his eyes, something was definitely off with Steve, Tony was sure of it. He just couldn’t quite put his finger on what exactly it was.

Steve cleared his throat and blinked wearily. “Oh, actually I- snff- um, no… actually not.”

“Then why are you up at such an ungodly hour?” Tony raised an eyebrow, grabbed the nearest chair and sat backwards on it, still facing Steve. Steve leaned forward, his elbows resting on the kitchen table and copied Tony, raising one eyebrow. “Why are you up, huh?”

Tony followed his movement and also leaned forward. “Nuh-uh, Cap, that won’t work. I asked you first, you answer first,” Tony demanded and made a gesture with his hands. “So go on.”

Steve rolled his eyes and sighed. “I don’t actually know,” he shrugged, “I guess I just cou- snff couldn’t fall asleep, snf.” Just as he finished talking, Tony noticed the other man shiver, which he found odd. The air in the kitchen was rather warm, 75 degrees, and just looking at Steve wearing the thick knitted sweater made Tony overheat.

Tony’s thoughts returned back to what Steve has just said, but he was unsure how to continue the conversation so he just blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Huh, you fantasizing about me, Cap? That would surely explain your restlessness,” Tony smirked. He had wanted to retract it just as he’d said it, even more when Steve’s cheeks flushed bright red and ducked his head with a sheepish grin.

“Sorry to dis- heh, snff, disappoint you,” Steve said as he rubbed his nose with the back of his wrist, “ but, uh… I- huh,” he suddenly trailed off, mouth hanging slightly open, eyes squinting at Tony. He drew in a sharp breath, burying his face in the crook of his elbow, pressing into the soft fabric of the sweater. Tony was confused. Was Steve about to-

“hehh… hehShoo! ehhTISH’oo! SNFF”

Oh. Oh. Tony’s eyes widened. “B- bless you?” he stammered, sounding like a question. Steve looked blearily up at him, “Oh, umb, snff… Thanks, Tony,” he murmured.

Silence filled the room. Tony didn’t know how to react to what was in front of him. He’d never seen Steve so vulnerable, so defenseless, so… human. Nothing about the great Captain America usually seemed this way to Tony. Steve was always so guarded and stiff, which usually made it very easy, almost too easy, for Tony to piss him off.

But Steve was also so much else, Tony had to admit. He always had everything under control, much to Tony’s annoyance. Whenever he deliberately tried to infuriate Steve, he’d keep collected and act unfazed (however, sometimes when his composure breaks a tiny bit, Tony would notice, and seeing the irritated expression on Steve’s face would make his entire day). Steve was fearless and strong, nothing could ever keep him away from a situation pointed south. Tony had heard all about Steve as a child. Howard used to praise Steve all the damn time, and Tony hated him for it. No matter how hard he tried to make his father proud, he would never be as good as Captain America himself. Maybe that was why Tony had always felt a weird kind of resentment towards the good man. Captain America was simply flawless, so he was told

In this moment, however, as Steve was sitting there, looking so small and, to some extend, pathetic, Tony felt puzzled. This was an different Steve, a softer, more human Steve. Maybe he didn’t actually know Steve as well as he thought he did.

Some time had passed since the last words between the two had been said. The silence was only interrupted by frequent sniffles and small coughs until Steve spoke up.

“So you didn’t tell me why you’re still up.”

“Oh, y’know, just the usual. Well, really, I was in the workshop, fixing some upgrades and stuff. I was actually on my way to bed before I stumbled upon your pity-party in here,” Tony smirked. “I might also be trying to figure out a way to stop you and Thor from breaking all the punching bags and the rest of the gym equipment. Not because it’s expensive, it’s just a little inconvenient sometimes.”

Steve smiled drowsily at that. “Sorry.”

“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it,” Tony waved a hand. “I just didn’t really fancy going to bed. Sleeping is overrated. A total waste of time.”

Steve’s expression suddenly grew into a melancholic frown, his eyes lowered and his lips curled into a smile that Tony thought looked more sad as opposed to happy. He felt a faint pain in his chest, one he rarely felt, but something told him it was a little thing called compassion. Ugh, since when had that been a thing?

“Yeah, I guess so… snff I’m not the biggest fan of sleeping either. Mbaybe, snff , maybe that’s why I can’t seem to doze off,” Steve admitted and shrugged.

Tony caught himself studying the face of the other man. Steve was way older than Tony, he’d been through more shit than one could imagine, but sitting there, body crumpled up and face flushed, Steve looked so young. His long, dark eyelashes glistened in the weak kitchen lights and Tony wondered if maybe Steve had been crying. The peculiar tug at his heart returned, and Tony swallowed thickly as he felt the urge to go over to Steve and wrap him into his arms. Steve looked like someone who desperately needed a hug. But Tony refrained form doing so. It would inappropriate. Why would Steve want a hug from him anyway.

“Then I guess there’s actually one thing we have in common… Apart from wanting to ban Clint from choosing movies for movie-night,” Tony tried to lighten the mood, but Steve didn’t really react, just a small huff. The silence was deafening and Tony hated it. Tension filled the room and he knew it emanated from when he mentioned his issues with sleeping. He pondered for a few moments and then looked at Steve who was still looking like a sad puppy, and somehow his heart just couldn’t bear seeing Captain America this wrecked, both psychically and mentally. He had to do something about this.

“Hey Cap, I-,” Tony sighed before he continued, “Look, I know I might be the last person you want to talk to about this… about anything, probably, but I just want you to know that you can talk to me. I’m not known to be the best listener. I’m egoistic, or so I’ve been told, but I’ll try my best.”

His heartbeat skyrocketed and he was afraid Steve would hear the thunderous pounding. When Steve didn’t answer, Tony was slightly disappointed but he didn’t blame him. It was a sensitive subject, one you talk to your friends about.

“That’s not true, Tony,” Steve’s words were almost a whisper. “You’re not the last person I’d want to talk to… not at all, actually. I just…” Sigh. “I just can’t. Snff! You know, talk about it.”

Steve voice cracked at the last part of the sentence. He sounded so… broken.

“I didn’t think the word can’t was in your vocabulary,” Tony said and Steve smiled sadly at that. “And look, it’s hard. After Afghanistan I thought no one would ever be able to help or understand me. Turns out talking about that sort of stuff actually is helpful. Don’t tell Pepper, though, I’ll never stop hearing from it if she finds out I said that.”

Steve sniffed and rubbed his nose with his knuckles, then swallowed as he took in a shaky breath. “I’m just so scared, Tony,” Steve sounded like he was within an ace of crying, his voice was so weak, almost inaudible. He burrowed his face in his palms and exhaled tremulously.

Tony frowned at what Steve had just said. What the hell was he scared of? Steve was the bravest man Tony had ever known, that was his thing. “Scared? Wait, no- Cap, you’re Captain America. That’s you, you hear me? You’re fearless. You’re basically the embodiment of a true Gryffindor,” Tony insisted. “Ugh, stupid Clint, we’ve watched too many Harry Potter movies lately,” he muttered under this breath.

Steve looked up form his hideout. Tears were forming in the corners of his eyes, it was a matter of seconds before they would start running down his cheeks.

“That’s all I am,” Steve croaked. I wasn’t a question, more like a statement. “That’s all I ever will be. The fearless Captain America. I’m nothing more that.”

Tony’s heart sank at that. Oh god, what had he done. “That’s not what I meant.”

“No, you’re right. I- I can’t be scared. I have to-“

“Hey, stop! Don’t. Even. Just… Calm down, okay? God, Steve, I’m sorry. You’re allowed to be scared. Hell, everyone gets scared sometimes… The thought just never crossed my mind. I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot,” Tony apologized and stood up, walking towards Steve, placed a hand on his shoulder and squatted down next to him, their eyes meeting each other.

“So, you want to tell me what’s scaring you, hm?”

Steve wiped his face when a tear slowly escaped.

“I’m just scared to go to sleep, Tony. Every time I close my eyes, all I hear is screams and explosions and then suddenly I can’t move. It’s like my body is tied, restricted… And I don’t know if it’s my subconscious telling me that I shouldn’t fall asleep because…” Steve took a moment to breathe. “Because I’m scared… of falling asleep. Or maybe more of waking up somewhere I don’t know or recognize… again,” Steve voice broke at the last word. Tony realized he had been staring the entire time when Steve’s gaze shifted to him and his glassy eyes glared directly into Tony’s.

“M’sorry… You shouldn’t have to listen to all my pathetic crap,” Steve broke the eye contact when the silence became slightly uncomfortable and shifted in his seat.

No one dared to say anything or move for a while. They just sat there in the dimmed lights, Tony’s hand still placed delicately on Steve’s shoulder. All of a sudden, however, Tony felt the larger man’s body twitch followed by the sound of a catching breath and Steve muttering a hurried shit. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Steve bury his face in the crook of his elbow and turn away from him.

“Huh.. ehh! uh-huhTChushh! Oh God- snff! h’UHh… UhhIShiew!” Two strong sneezes escaped and launched him into a small coughing fit that left him breathless.

“Ugh, snff! Excuse mbe,” he mumbled and wiped his nose in the cuff of the soft sweater. “Sorry, I’mb such a mbess.”

“Don’t worry about it. Can’t complain about the fact that you seem too worn out to outwit me,” Tony bantered and gained an eye-roll form Steve. “Bless you, by the way.”

Steve responded with a frail nod and an acknowledging hum. He rubbed at his face and Tony began to realize just how shattered Steve looked. Sure, he’d noticed the bleary eyes and the pinkish tint to his cheeks, but in this moment he saw small beads of perspiration on his forehead and the dark bags under his eyes.

His curiosity got the better of him and slowly he moved his hand from Steve’s shoulder and softly placed the back of his hand to his cheek. He immediately withdrew it, like had he stuck his hand into a flame and burned himself.

“Geez, Cap, you’re burning up!” he gasped.

“Oh, no- Don’t worry, Tony. I always run hot,” Steve said hastily. “S’not so bad… just a slight temperature, I think. Probably just cold though,”

Tony was surprised that Steve actually confessed to feeling off, but then again, Steve wouldn’t risk anyone else catching whatever he’d come down with just because he didn’t want to admit defeat.

“I’m pretty certain that’s a fever, Spangles. I didn’t know you couldn’t get sick anymore… Y’know, with all the steroids they gave you,” Tony gestured to Steve’s muscular body.

“Huh?” Steve cocked his head and Tony figured he didn’t catch his joke.

“The injections, the serum,” he explained and Steve mouthed a silent oh.

Steve gave it a second thought, then shrugged. “Neither did I. Probably the lack of sleep that’s finally catching up with me.”

God, just how bad were Steve’s sleeping problems? The Steve he knew would never show this much vulnerability, especially not in Tony’s company. “Don’t you think it’s probably for the best if you actually try to rest?” Tony requested, crossing his arms.

“You’re not one to speak, Stark.” Tony unwillingly had to agree with his statement and gave small shrug.

A short quietness filled the room and, for once, it wasn’t awkward between the two of them. Their confessions seemed to have broken that barrier. “Well, as your fellow insomniac, why don’t we go watch a movie or something. Like I said, ‘sleep is overrated,’” Tony gave a quick glance over his shoulder, referring to the living room.

“Sure… why not,” Steve smiled tiredly and propped himself up from the chair. As he stood, his body wobbled, and he quickly leaned against the nearest wall to balance himself. Tony was there in a split second, stabilizing the bigger man. “God dammit, Cap. You’re totally out of it, aren’t you?” Tony worried.

Steve waved the brunette off. “M’ fine, Tony. Y’ don’t need to-“. Steve didn’t get to finish his sentence before dizziness overtook him once again and stumbled slightly.

Tony grabbed Steve by the bicep, pressing his fingers into the muscle. Gosh, Tony thought. He knew Steve was 220 pounds of pure muscle, but damn. Touching Steve’s upper arm was like hitting a brick. Tony was sure that if there ever would be a live-action Hercules movie, Steve would get the role in a heartbeat. Everything seemed to add up: his incredibly muscular build; his piercing eyes, which were more blue than the clearest ocean; his golden hair, resembling a god perfectly; and lastly, his blinding smile and his plump lips, which Tony definitely didn’t want to kiss. Of course he didn’t, why would anyone think that? No, Steve’s lips were the last thing on earth Tony wanted to touch. The last thing.

“Yeah you seem fine, Steve. This is exactly what ‘fine’ looks like,” Tony said rolling his eyes and slowly steered Steve towards the living room As soon as they reached the sofa, Tony nearly dropped the bigger man, who fell heavily into the soft fabric.

Steve groaned and rubbed his temples. “So sorry, Tony. You- snff shouldn’t have to deal with me like this.”

“Good thing I’m such a patient and considerate guy then,” Tony smirked and sat down next to Steve, who was taking up about 90% of the space, his body sprawled all over the sofa. Steve realized this and began shuffling to make more room for the other man.

“Ugh,” he groaned, “I’m so pathetic, it’s embarrassing.” Tony shrugged. “Stop worrying,” he said and Steve sent him a tired yet thankful smile. “I’ve seen you embarrass yourself on multiple occasions, Spangles, almost on the daily. This is no different,” he continued, at which Steve whimpered and rolled his eyes.

“Thanks a lot, Stark. Just what I needed.” Tony chuckled and Steve pressed the heel of his hand into his eye, rubbing harshly. Tony felt a smile tugging at his lips, as if it wouldn’t go away even if he desperately tried to do so.

“Yeah? Well, you’re welcome. I must say, however, I actually kinda like you this way,” Tony admitted and Steve looked quizzically at him, he brows furrowed. “You’re more… how do I say it without sounding like an asshole…”

“I think you passed that point, thanks a lot.”

“I guess you’re right. In my defensive, my asshole-ness is my trademark. It makes me who I am. Pep always said it got me into a lot of trouble, though, and she wasn’t wrong, to be honest and- Wait, sorry, I’m just rambling now… I just meant to say you’re more… casual? Like you don’t have a stick up your butt.”

“Ouch,” Steve snorted. “You’re being awfully honest. Anything else about me you’d like to criticize?”

“Oh, Rogers, you’re putting me on the spot. If you’d give me five minutes I could make you an entire presentation.”

Tony couldn’t help but notice the hint of hurt in Steve’s already watery eyes. Why on earth would he even say something like that? As if Steve didn’t feel bad enough being sad and lonely and sleep deprived and dammit Tony, the guy’s sick. Tony was slapping himself internally.

“Fuck… I didn’t know why I said that. I’m sorry, Cap, I didn’t me-.”

“Don’t-“ Steve held a hand up and interrupted the brunette. “It’s okay. I know. Like you said, it’s your trademark. You can charm your way out of anything. You’re witty, funny. I’ve always admired that about you. Wish I had a bit more of that myself.”

Tony smirked and raised an eyebrow. He leaned back comfortably in the sofa, suddenly feeling a lot better.

“Don’t get too cocky now, Stark. You’re still a smartass and it still pisses me off sometimes.”

They both laughed at that and the joy from the laughter was still hanging in the air even after the silence had settled.

“I enjoy pissing all of you off, though. I feel like it’s becoming part of the job.”

The chuckled continued, warm and genuine, but suddenly launched Steve into a coughing fit. Tony watched concernedly and placed a comforting hand on Steve’s knee when he was left wheezing and gasping for air. Suddenly, he noticed at familiar sensation: Steve’s eyelashes fluttered and his eyes narrowed. His nose was twisting, rubbing his nostrils gently with his knuckles. He drew in a few shaky breaths, the next one more desperate than the one before, until he finally took a long and deep breath before giving in to the inevitable.

“huhh… uhhhUSChoo! uh.. huuUCHshh! Oh,” Steve sighed after two strong sneezes, which he caught in the crook of his elbow. His body had tensed without he had even noticed it and eventually, when he was sure he’s done, he fell back into the comfortable sofa.

“For Gods’ sake, Rogers. You just don’t anything by halves, do you? You sound terrible.”

Steve hummed grumpily in reply, then shivered, his entire body shaking.

“You cold? I can get blankets,” Tony offered.

“Oh- no, that’s okay. Thanks, though,” Steve smiled sincerely and Tony nodded back at him. Steve’s eyes slowly fluttered shut, but Tony could sense how the soldier was trying to resist the urge to close his eyes and his himself slip out of consciousness. Tony smiled sympathetically at Steve, his cheeks flushed, his nose bright red, hair ruffled and looking the messiest Tony’d ever seen and his lips a perfect shade of pink.

Then Steve frowned and forced his eyes open, the frustration clear on his face. Tony felt a tug at his heart.

“C’mon, Rogers,” Tony started. “You’re sick, you need to let yourself rest. Please.”

“Tony, I- You know I can’t,” Steve said weekly, his voice so fragile. “I just can’t.”

Tony moved closer, his hand grabbing Steve’s shoulder firmly. “Listen to me, Steve. I know it can be scary, feeling like you’re loosing control, but let me tell you this. Right now, your fear is controlling you. And look what it’s done to you already, you look like you’re on your deathbed- Sorry, right, not helping. Anyways, you simply can’t keep doing this to yourself, or to the team really.”

Tony knew he was being a sneaky, manipulative little shit for dragging the team into the situation, they were Steve’s soft spot, but he forgave himself, it was in Steve’s best interest.

“I really hate it when you’re right, Stark,” Steve growled annoyedly. “Luckily, that’s a rare occasion.”

Tony smirked. “Did I just hear the Steve Rogers admit that I’m right? God, you’re definitely sick, I think we need to call Bruce.” They both laughed.

“Go to sleep, Steve. I’ll be right here if you need me. I promise.”

“Thanks, Tony… Really. Thank you.”

Steve’s voice was so soft and sincere, Tony couldn’t help but get butterflies in his stomach. When Steve’s eyelids got heavier and heavier, and at last shut entirely, Tony just had to run his fingers through the soft, blonde hair. After a few minutes of just watching and appreciating the sight in front of him, everything got darker and within a minute or two, Tony was laying halfway on top of Steve, both of them fast asleep in each other’s arms.

————————————

Tony was awoken by a loud alarm, his body jerking up into a half-sitting, half-lying position. He blinked rapidly, trying to gain focus after coming back to consciousness. He figured Steve was doing the same, as he also was looking confusedly around, seeming completely disorientated.

“Shit,” Tony muttered under his breath as the realized the loud noice was the Avengers emergency-alarm. “JARVIS, what’s happening? What’s the time even?”

“The time is 7.18 AM, Sir. I’m sorry to disturb you and Captain Rogers, but it seems an emergency has occurred. Your assistance is needed,” The AI announced.

Tony groaned and rubbed his temples, then quickly stood up and walked determined out of the room to get into the suit. Just as he reached the doorway he called over his shoulder, “Gear up, Cap, we’ve got a city to save.” Tony has seemingly forgotten all about the reason why they were both lying on the common room sofa, completely tangled up into each other. Steve whimpered and gave a shaky sigh followed by a harsh cough and a weak wheeze. He squeezed his eyes shut, then stood up, perhaps a bit too fast, as he stumbled and had to grab the sofa to keep himself from falling. He sighed once more, a deep breath, before exiting the room just like Tony had done 30 seconds earlier.

————————————

“Guys, I need back up on 23rd,” Natasha called through the comms. She was still panting from beating up seven wolf-like aliens all on her own, only to see a stream of more than 20 new ones approaching.

“On my way,” Steve responded, dodging multiple hits while running hastily down the street. When he escaped a larger group of attackers, he got a view of the city. Broken glass was covering the ground, the sunlight reflecting every once in a while, when he skimmed through a thick cloud of smoke. Fires were spread out everywhere, in the buildings, in the parks, on the pavements, some of them were small, others were tall flames leaving no hope for saving the matter.

Steve heard nothing but white noise, a long screaming sound ringing in his ears, but he could see the tears when passing pedestrians, sense them sobbing and feel their fear — there was no need for any sound. Steve could hear them loud and clear. Shouting, whimpering, crying… He felt an ache in his chest, a thump, and he swallowed thickly, quickening his pace.

He tried to only look forward. If he stopped running now, he wouldn’t reach Natasha in time, so he accelerated once more, frowning in tension. One, two, one, two, he counted inside his head, hoping to keep his mind off of the disastrous state of his surroundings. But fuck. Why was breathing so damn hard? Normally, Steve could run for hours without being short of breath or even breaking sweat.

Now, however? He was wheezing, continuing to swallow the urge to cough and press his tongue to the roof of his mouth to control the itch that was building in his right nostril. He felt the congestion in his entire face, how he almost couldn’t breathe through his nose, how his eyes felt droopy and dry, how the area around his nose was slightly swollen.

He just couldn’t focus. All he wanted was to be at home, at cup of tea in his hand and lying in his bed — maybe even sleep. Apparently sleeping wasn’t impossible when Tony was right there next to himself, giving off a warmth Steve hadn’t felt since before the ice. Closing his eyes, knowing he wasn’t alone, knowing Tony knew what was going on when he closed his eyes was so comforting. Steve hadn’t opened up to someone like that since Bucky had… since Bucky.

Steve was well aware that he and Tony were very different, polar opposites some would say, but their conversation that morning had given Steve some kind of hope that they could set their differences aside and be friends. Maybe even more than friends if… No, Steve thought. No. Tony deserves better.

“How far, Cap? I don’t know how much longer I can keep them off,” Natasha interrupted Steve’s inner monologue, her usual calm and cool voice seeming affected by concern.

“I’ll be right there, Nat. I’m only- Ugh!”

Through his peripheral vision, Steve noticed something blocking the light, a large shadow covering him. He instinctively turned his head to identify the objects, his eyes enlarging as a car was less than 3 metres away from him. The car sped up, driving Steve into a corner. Reactively, Steve threw himself back, regrettably smashing his head into the wall to avoid getting hit by the car, then fell to the ground with a hard landing. He heard a loud crack and winced at the pain coming from his ribs. Before he had anytime to compose himself, another large object was thrown at him from the car. Grabbing the shield, trying to cover himself, he rolled and dodged the object by a few feet. An explosion, powerful despite its humble size, sent splinters in every direction. The majority of Steve’s body had been covers by the shield, but he felt small shards prickling his legs through the holes in his suit like a needle. He cursed under his breath and slowly got up from the ground. Looking around, he heard nothing but his own wheezing breath, until the silence was broken by a loud bang.

Steve looked around once more, searching for the source of the sound. Everything suddenly seemed to happen in slow-motion and a few seconds later, Steve felt a throb in his stomach and fell to his knees once again. He grabbed his waist and leaned against the wall. His breathing was fast, hitching, as he let out a painful grunt.

“Cap? Cap, you there? Steve!”

Silence.

“Rogers! Answer us!” someone snapped though the comms.

Steve drew in a shaky breath. “I’m-,” his voice broke, so he cleared his throat, “‘M o-okay. I, uh…”

He trailed off as he looked down and saw a red liquid oozing out from the wound, leaking through his fingers. He grabbed harder as another stab of pain ran through his body. He sat up against the wall, his vision became blurry. He was now panting, grunting in agony.

“Guys, Cap’s down. Send the med-team immediately. Now!”

Steve was sweating, beads peeping down his forehead, his hair wet and dark at the roots. He suddenly felt tired, his body numb apart from the ache in his abdomen.

He had completely lost all sense of time, he had no idea how long had passed when he felt something snatch his shoulder. His narrowed his eyes, clearing his slurred sight. focussing. When he looked up, he was met by a pair of warm, brown eyes that were filled his worry and, to some degree, anger.

“T’ny?” Steve mumbled.

“In the flesh, Cap.”

“S’rry. I lost focus,” Steve apologized.

Tony sighed and huffed a laugh.

“Well, yeah, no shit… Geez, you’re burning up, we need to get you out of this,” Tony hissed as he touched Steve’s forehead with the back of his hand, then continued to feel each cheek.

Steve wiggled away a little, feeling a bit embarrassed. He let out a whimper and looked down at his wound, then clenched his jaw, trying to ignore the pain.

“Fuck, Cap, you’re hurt. We need to get you to the med-wing.”

Steve just shook his head, but before ehe could even open his mouth to protest, Tony spoke up.

“There’s no discussion here, Steve. You’re hurt — and sick — you need medical attention, right now,” Tony said sternly.

Steve wanted to object so badly, but he was too tired to response with anything else but a sigh and an irritated hum. He just continued looking directly into the eyes of the armoured man: shiny and comfortable and beautiful. All the noise and clatter around them seemed to fade out. Tony’s mouth was moving, yet it was inaudible to Steve. He felt how Tony’s grip got tighter, and Steve cracked a smile at how their bodies were so close, so connected. As his eyelids became heavier and heavier he blinked wearily until he reluctantly gave in to the darkness.

————————————

Tony didn’t remember how long he was sat there, staring out into space, his eyes becoming dry from not blinking. His fingers were drumming nervously on the workshop table, a quirk he’d had for as long as he could remember — he always had to do something with his hands. He’d noticed how Steve did the exact same thing when they were in debrief after a mission (he could always tell Steve was getting impatient, but of course Captain Perfect kept composed), or whenever he got nervous or uncomfortable, which was often, maybe too often, and mostly caused by Tony or Clint when they said something inappropriate. He’d also notice how he’d duck and shake his head and smile shyly, his neck and ears flushing slightly pink and Tony lived for making Steve act like this.

God, get it together Stark, Tony thought to himself and squeezed his eyes shut, pinching he bridge of his nose. He couldn’t stop thinking about Steve and how mad — furious — he was at him for not being careful enough. Then Tony got mad at himself, as he remembered how unwell and weak Steve had been before they’d been alerted, and Tony facepalmed himself internally for forgetting and letting Steve go fighting when he obviously was in no state to do so. Steve probably would’ve ignored him and gone fighting anyway, but at least Tony would’ve been able to cross his arms and say I told you so.

It had been about six hours since the battle had ended, seven since Steve was injured and laid unconsciously in Tony’s arms. As soon as the med-team had showed up and the rest of the Avengers has finished up beating the Hydra-agents (when would Hydra stop bugging then, for god’s sake, Tony wondered annoyedly) and aliens Tony had flown back to the Tower, ignoring Fury and Hill and everyone else telling him to do the horrible post-battle debrief or search-and-rescue, which was usually Steve’s job. Steve would never complain and he usually volunteered to take care of the aftermaths, which Tony found incredibly irritating and really admirable.

It was obvious how the Captain felt a lash of guilt whenever people got hurt in battle. He wanted to make sure everyone was safe. How he swallowed thickly and looked away to hide teary eyes when the stats were reported on the news. How he’d go to the gym and spend hours destroying the punching bags in anger at how he couldn’t save every single human on the planet.

Steve spent so much time looking after others that he forgot to take care of himself and now he had been shot, broken multiple ribs, suffer a severe concussion and probably a lot of other smaller injuries Tony couldn’t recall. But the fact was that Steve was so unbelievably stupid and thick-headed. And sweet and caring and basically everything Tony wished to be. Tony groaned loudly and threw his head back, at which the bots reacted, startling their creator.

“Fuck off,” Tony growled and Dum-E and U.

He ran a hand through his greasy hair and sighed. When had Steve slipped his way into Tony’s mind like this? This wasn’t like Tony - Tony didn’t think of people like this! Ugh, fucking stupid, adorable, perfect Steve Rogers had infiltrated a literal genius’ mind, and Tony absolutely hated having to admit to it.

After a few minutes of Tony staring directly into the ceiling while continuously giving himself shit for thinking of one well-known super-soldier, his inner dialogue was disturbed by JARVIS.

“Agent Romanoff is requesting access, Sir,” the AI announced.

“Access denied,” Tony grumbled crossly.

Much to his annoyance, he heard the sound of the door opening and a pair of heels stamping towards him. The redhead stopped a few feet in front of him and crossed her arms, accusingly raising one eyebrow.

“Traitor,” Tony muttered under his breath. “I thought I said access denied,” Tony repeated his precious statement.

“I apologize, Sir. Agent Romanoff has overridden your security code. I’m designed to allow all Avengers access if the code is overruled,” JARVIS explained.

“How did she- ugh, doesn’t matter… Who the hell designed you to allow that?” Tony exclaimed confusedly.

“You did, Sir.”

“For fucks sake,” Tony complained, then sighed and eyed Natasha. “Why are you here?”

That came out harder than he had expected it to, but Tony was feeling too petty to do anything about it and just left it at that.

She snorted. “Hello to you too, Stark.”

Tony didn’t reply, just frowned. Natasha sighed and her expression softened. Grabbing the nearest the nearest chair, she sat down and crossed her legs. “You okay?” she asked. Tony shrugged.

“No one blames you, Tony. You couldn’t have prevented it,” she said reassuringly.

“Sorta seems like I could,” he mumbled and sighed. “How is he?”

Natasha tensed and rubbed her thighs uneasily.

“He’s… he’s okay, mostly. He looks horrible, though. Med-team put him on bed rest, which he wasn’t too pleased with.”

Tony huffed a laugh and scratched the back of his neck.

“I would imagine… He’s probably the worst sick person ever. And now he’s injured too, which is just the icing on the cake, isn’t it?”

Natasha laughed quietly. “Yeah… he seems miserable, to be honest. He just keep sniffling and sneezing. I’ve never seen him like this, Sam hasn’t either. He looks like he’s about too pass out from exhaustion. But he won’t sleep.” Her tone tuned more serious towards the end of the sentence.

Tony swallowed thickly. Of course Steve wouldn’t even try to go to sleep. Tony didn’t care if Steve’s ramble last night was out of pure fatigue and delusion or if he genuinely trusted Tony. Tony hoped for the latter but wasn’t convinced.

Steve had been pretty hazy and probably hadn’t meant for anyone to hear all that. Tony felt guilty for being happy Steve had shared his feelings, but for once, Tony believed the two of them could actually get along, not bickering about all the small irrelevancies.

“He’s been asking for you, by the way. He’s… worried about you”

Huh. Tony felt odd… Steve was injured and probably fully drugged-up and presumably not conscious enough to think clearly, but Tony couldn’t ignore the slight satisfaction of knowing that Steve thought about him, even when he had so much else to be concerned about. But of course, no one could know that, so Tony just rolled his eyes.

“The guy’s got a gunshot wound the size of my fist, broken multiple bones and is nursing a concussion just to top it off, and he’s worried about me? That’s ridiculous.”

“I know… That’s Steve for you,” she smiled fondly.

“He’s an idiot. A fucking sacrificing, self-destructive idiot,” Tony tried to sound angry, but both of them knew he couldn’t really be angry at Steve. Steve was just too honorable for his own good.

“I don’t disagree… But he’s our idiot,” she simplified and Tony hummed in agreement.

A silence settled over them, the workshop completely quiet once again. They looked deeply into each other’s eyes, a meaningful glance that Tony didn’t know he had needed, but apparently he had ‘cause his demeanor eased when she laid a comforting hand on his arm.

“He really wants to see you, though. You were the first one he asked for.”

“You were there when he woke up?” Tony asked and she nodded almost imperceptibly in reply.

“Go,” she demanded and signaled towards the door.

Tony hesitated and frowned. He opened his mouth to say something but never got the chance to speak before Natasha nearly pushed him off his chair. “Go!” She encouraged once more.

Tony smiled slightly as he stumbled out of the chair, headed for the door and made his way to Steve’s floor.

————————————

The elevator doors opened directly into the living space when it reached Steve’s floor. Tony walked out cautiously, trying to keep quiet. He didn’t even know why, it wasn’t like he didn’t want Steve to know he was coming.

As he stood there, he surveyed the room. He hadn’t been visiting Steve’s floor very often, but it looked just like how he’d imagined it: tidy, organized and depressingly empty. Everything seemed to have its place. The few paintings that were on the walls hung perfectly straight; the kitchen was exemplarily clean, not a single plate was in the sink (Tony couldn’t relate); the pillowed sat flawlessly in the couch, which looked like it had never been used. It was almost surgical how impeccable the room looked, and Tony’s heart ached at how impersonal it was. The only sign of life was the used tissues that were scattered randomly around the room.

“Cap?” Tony called out.

He was met by silence.

“Cap, you in here?” he tried once more.

Still no response. He moved further into the apartment, examining the room as he went on. Running a finger over the sideboard surface, checking for dust, which just confirmed Tony’s thoughts. Exemplarily clean. He did, however, notice a piece of paper that was folded into a small square. Tony looked over his shoulder before reaching out for it and unfolding it. The paper was wrinkled and delicate and old, like had it been crumpled up far too many times.

When Tony got a look at the content, he immediately understood. Damn, he thought to himself as his eyes ran over the photo of Steve and someone who Tony presumed was Bucky Barnes. Steve looked… different. Skinnier and shorter, the photo was obviously taken before the serum, but he was still immensely beautiful and the smile on his face was unlike any of the smiles Tony had ever seen from him. It was wry and crooked and sweet and authentic. It was real, it made Tony dizzy and giddy, and he suddenly felt an egoistical desire to make Steve smile like that again.

Then he heard some shuffling from one another room, quickly folded the picture and put it back in place. He slowly made his way into the corridor, listing carefully to identify the source of the sounds. He narrowed his eyes in concentration when the shuffles were replaces by sniffles and catching breath.

“uhh… hu- uhH! huhh? uhhISh’oo!! snffSNff! Huh… huhEschh! snff!”

The sneezes were followed by a pained whimper and Tony wanted to resist the urge to barge in through the door and take care of him, but he just couldn’t. Fortunately he had a little self-control and opened the door to Steve’s bedroom quietly and peaked through the opening.

The wounded soldier was sat hunched over on his bed, clutching his torso and clenching his jaw. (Tony was sure he could cut himself on Steve’s jawline — so strong, so sharp and Tony wanted to run his fingers over it softly, caressingly. Wait- no! He did not.) Steve was wearing sweatpants and that same sweater he had worn in the kitchen the night before, his hair was wet and messy, and Tony could see the flush in his cheeks and how his nostrils were rough and pink, like had they been abused by too many tissues and probably the cuff of the sweater as well.

Tony knocked rhythmically on the door and it creaked as he opened it wider. Steve looked up in surprise with his mouth hanging slightly open.

“Hey there, stranger,” Tony smirked and walked towards the bed.

“Tony,” Steve croaked then cleared his throat. “Um… hu- y-you really shouldn’t be here right now. Uhh…uh-huhTChushh!”

He sneezed off to the side, away from Tony, coughed harshly and winced wretchedly afterwards. He let out a whine as he breathed in short and fast breaths as if every inhale was sending a thousand needles into his stomach.

Steve’s eyebrows drew together in discomfort, which Tony, even though he wasn’t a genius when it came to body language, noticed immediately and sat down next to Steve and comfortingly laid an arm around the broad shoulders and placed the other on top of Steve’s own hand that was attached to his ribs.

“At ease soldier,” Tony mumbled and gently stroked the other man’s arm.

“You’re pathetic. And a selfish asshole, by the way” Tony continued when Steve’s expression became less tense.

Steve smiled wryly. “Thanks a lot, Stark. Nothing’s new then,” he said and cocked and eyebrow at which Tony rolled his eyes.

“Don’t try to be smart here, Rogers. If you weren’t already hurt, I’d punch you so hard I’d break my own hand,” he snarled half seriously, half jokingly.

“Hm,” Steve hummed. “So are you gonna tell me why I’m in trouble? snFF!”

“You really don’t know? Wow, you’re even more stupid than you look, Capsicle,” Tony commented when Steve shook his head.

“And you’re apparently a bigger asshole than one would think,” Steve clicked his tongue and Tony smirked smugly. “Not that I don’t want your company Stark, but um… I have some work to do, so-“

Steve wiggled his way out of Tony’s embrace and used the edge of the bed as support when he stood up. He turned away from Tony, who had let out an annoyed sigh when the soldier had moved, not wanting to have to deal with the reacting he knew was coming. As he approached the door, he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen and clasped his side.

“For Gods’ sake, Rogers!” Tony exploded as he raised from the bed, and Steve jumped. “Will you please you give yourself a break for once? I’m so fucking tired of you acting like this!”

“Acting how?” Steve asked through gritted teeth.

Tony threw his hands up in frustration, then pulled his hair tightly, eyes widening. “Like this, like you’re okay when you’re obviously not!”

Tony gestured at Steve’s bruise and bandaged body.

“Tony, please stop, I’m fi-“

“Shut up. Shut. Up! Don’t say you’re fucking fine, Steve. Everyone knows you’re not. And for the record, you’re an idiot. A stupid, inconsiderate, self-sacrificing idiot, who never thinks before he acts this recklessly. You could’ve died out there. Yeah- hey, don’t look at me like that, Rogers. Do you ever consider what could happen when you go into a fight when you’re in no state to do so? Huh? I don’t think you do, ‘cause then you’d know how fucking ignorant that is. I don’t want your death on my conscience so you better stop being a careless, selfish ‘hero’.”

Tony stopped to breathe and realized he’d just stood there and nearly screamed at Steve for about a minute. His sight had turned blurry and his entire body was shaking, his lower lip quivering intensely.

None of them dared to move, both waiting for the other one to speak up first. Steve’s jaw was clenched once again, the way he always clenches it and Tony hates it because he can’t read it. He doesn’t know what it means — it has so many meaning, he’s learned. He does it when he’s in pain, or when he’s nervous, or angry, or sad and, Tony thinks, maybe even when he’s scared. And Tony doesn’t know which of Steve’s clenches he would prefer right now.

Steve’s gaze that had been directed right into Tony’s eyes now wandered around the room. His hands were rubbing against his thighs and he was biting the inside og his cheeks. Nervous, Tony concluded. He’d seen Steve this way, observed him, enough times that even though his clenched jaw was ambiguous, Tony would always recognize his nervous ticks. Not that he had spent a lot of time does said thing. No, it was just that Steve often was nervous… yeah, that’s why.

Steve looked up for a second, his eyes were sorrowful and apologetic. “M’sorry, Tony…” Steve mumbled quietly. His voice was thin, on the edge of breaking. “But y-you really shouldn’t huh! be h-here riihh right now,” Steve spoke through catching breaths, hurrying out the last part of the sentence before letting out a soft TShhoo!

“First of all, this is my tower, you don’t get to tell me where I can and cannot be. Second of all, why is it so hard for you to let anyone care for you?”

Steve cracked a small smile at first, but his expression quickly crumbled once again.

“I… snf! You really don’t have to worry, I’m fi- ugh,” another throb in his ribs sent a wave of torment through Steve’s upper body, bending him in half with one hand resting on his knee while the other was fastening his side. Tony was quick to support him, carefully guiding him back to the bed.

“Yeah, you’re fine, I get it. Now sit down you lunatic.”

Steve slumped down into the softness of the bed and nodded a thanks at Tony. “I appreciate your help, Stark, but I can take care of myself,” he said, earning a huffed laugh from Tony.

“You’re the worst at taking care of yourself, Rogers. And that’s a lot coming from me. Why are you so damn stubborn?”

“Will you please just leave it Stark?” Steve scowled.

“No, Cap! I won’t.”

Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why are you wasting your time here, Tony?” Steve shook his head in confusion. “You don’t care about me. No one actually cares about me, Tony. All they care about is stupid Captain America.”

Now Tony was the one who’s uncomfortable. He swallowed hard. God, was he going to do this? Was he going to tell Steve?

“That’s not true, Steve.”

Just then, Steve looked up, clearly puzzled.

“How the hell would you know?”

Tony sighed and scratched his neck. It was now or never.

“Because I care, Steve.” There it was. “I care about you so much it hurts. And I don’t like it, cos’ I don’t do this catching-feelings-thing.”

Steve’s jaw dropped, his mouth hanging slightly open, as if he wanted to say something, but Tony held up a hand to stop him.

“Don’t. I just want to say something… Look, Steve. You and I both know that I’m a mess, kinda like you right now. I’m stubborn. I can’t keep my mouth shut and I say things I know I shouldn’t say. I’m inconsiderate and egoistical and I don’t care for anyone else. Or so I thought until about 24 hours ago. The point is that I care about you Steve. Hell, I freaking love you. No- I’m not done yet. I don’t expect you to reciprocate my feelings. I know I’m not easy to love, but I just… I wanted you to know… That I care.”

The silence made Tony even more nervous. Shit, he thought. He had just rambled and said everything he felt and Steve probably didn’t like him back, and he hadn’t prepared an escape plan for when Steve broke his heart.

“You’re right, Tony. You’re not... You infuriate me like no one else. You drink way too much coffee and never listens to my orders, snff! To anyone’s orders, in fact. You’re a pain in my ass,” Steve listed and Tony could only nod in agreement. “But you’re also generous. You do care about the people you love. I know the reason you work so much is because you want to help. And yes, we clash and we argue, just like right now, but you bring out the best, a- snf! and sometimes the worst in me. But I wouldn’t have it any other way… I love you too, Tony.”

Tony stood tongue-tied and stared at Steve. That was unexpected. “Wait, what?”

“I love you,” Steve repeated, his face was serious as he grabbed Tony’s hand and pulled him closer until they both sat on the bed, looking directly into each other’s eyes.

Tony was apprehensive as his fingers intertwined with Steve’s.

“So you, Steve Rogers hot-as-fuck and super sexy, hunky super-soldier,” Tony’s hand moved uncontrollably, gesturing at Steve’s body, “are in love… with me?”

Steve ducked his head and chuckled as he gave Tony’s hand a squeeze. When he looked up, his eyes were sparkling. They were still red-rimmed and he still looked worn out, but something had changed.

“I am. Very much so.”

Tony felt his cheeks flush and smiled like a giddy teenage girl. “That makes this so much easier for me,” he whispered as he leant in softly placed his lips on Steve’s. One hand was cupping the soldier’s cheek, the other one still squeezing his tight.

Steve’s lips were soft and had a sweet taste, just like Tony had imagined and they matched his perfectly, as if they were made for each other. It started off slow and gentle but grew more passionate by the second, their hand suddenly fiddling all over each other. Tony reckoned things would’ve progressed even further had Steve not pulled away.

“Sorry… We shouldn’t be doing this,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against Tony’s. “You’ll get sick.”

Tony smiled fondly. How hadn’t he noticed how amazing Steve was before now? “You sound like you think I care about getting sick.”

Steve chuckled and shook his head affectionately. “Oh, I know you don’t. But I do. snf! And I’m probably not in the best of state to… y’know… right now,” he smiled wryly. Tony had completely forgotten about the fact that Steve had literally been shot.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, “I’m so sorry, Steve. I should probably just, like, let you get some sleep. No work.” Tony stood up and shot the wounded soldier a serious look at which Steve laughed, still holding Tony’s hand. “Or you could, maybe, just… do go?”

Tony felt something in his stomach lurch and wondered how Steve had managed to sweep him off his feet in the matter of 24 hours.

“Only if you promise to rest and let me take care of you,” he wiggled his eyebrows at Steve, who was rolling his eyes but chuckled lightly.

“Manipulative asshole… snf! but I think I could be persuaded to oblige just this once.”

Tony lips curled into an affectionate smile as he sat back down.

“Just this once, huh?” He slowly bent forward, his face nearing Steve’s who stayed still.

“Tony, I-“ Steve started but Tony cut him off.

“Shhh… stop speaking, Steven,” he purred as he placed a tender kiss on Steve’s cheek, pulling him into a warm embrace. As held held onto him, his arms barely reaching all the way round Steve’s broad frame, he gently pushed Steve backwards until they were both lying down in each other’s arms. They didn’t speak, just listened to the way they harmonized as they breathed in unison. Tony found a comfort in hearing the proof of life that followed every in- and exhale. Slowly he felt his eyelids grow heavier and closed a few moments later. He still listened attentively to the way Steve’s breath evened out. It was so peaceful, and Tony happily thought to himself that nothing could take the calm away.

That was until he suddenly heard small, desperate gasp and felt Steve shuffle out of his hold.

“T- Toohhny, sn! I gooh- gotta,” Steve spoke through hitching breath.

Tony’s eyes fluttered open and slowly released Steve from his grip but kept a comforting hand on Steve’s arm as the blonde sat up, his breath caught and he buried his face in the crook of his elbow.

“Bless you,” Tony said preemptively.

“huh… snff! huuishh’uh! heh- eishh’ew” snfsnf… h’USHhh! Ow…” Steve doubled over as the sneezes overcame, the last one particularly strong and leaving Steve breathless as he winced and let out a painful grunt, a hand clenched to his ribs.

“Bless you. Bless you… God bless you, Steven,” Tony spoke softly as he carefully stroked Steve’s abdomen from behind him.

“Sorry, I-… this is horrible. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Steve sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands.

Tony placed a soft kiss to Steve’s shoulder and nuzzled his face into the side his neck.

“It’s okay to let your guard down for once in your life, Steve. You’re sick, you need to relax… and, oh my god I’m gonna regret saying this later, but you’re surprisingly cute when you’re not so uptight,” Tony whisper and Steve could catch the undertones of a smile in his voice.

“I can’t believe me being sick, and sniffly, and sneezy and gross makes you think I’m cute,” he shook his head lightly, huffing a laugh.

“Yeah, me neither. I think it’s because you can’t keep up with my wit when,” Tony joked, nudging Steve slightly.

“Yeah? You just wait a few days, I’ll be back to outwitting you in no time, Stark,” Steve quipped earning a laugh from Tony and Steve couldn’t help blush at how the soft chuckle was like the most beautiful melody he could imagine.

Tony Stark was used to posing in front of the cameras, giving his best toothy smile, making conversation with everyone. He went to galas and fundraisers, wearing some of world’s most expensive suits and looking as glamorous, if not more than a Hollywood-actor on the red carpet. Point is, Tony was used to keeping up a facade and adapting his demeanor to fit the genius-billionaire reputation.

Not a lot of people could tell the difference between the role he played and the real man that was behind the sharp exterior. But Steve could.

Steve had always hated the way Tony forced a smile in front of the cameras, how he was putting up an act. It was in times like this, quiet and intimate, that Steve could feel the warmth and sincerity that exuded from him, how has smile was smaller and a bit crooked but so much more real and so much more Tony. Whenever he managed to get that side out of Tony, Steve’s heart would flutter and think to himself that maybe, just maybe, he could be good enough for him and Steve would feel a wave of happiness that he hadn’t felt in a very long time. That’s how he felt in this instant. To hear Tony’s laugh, knowing he was he reason behind it, was more rewarding than anything else Steve could imagine.

“Come on, lay back down,” Tony murmured as he pulled Steve back until he laid comfortably on the bed. “Get some rest.”

For once, Steve didn’t protest. He obliged, shuffling into his preferred sleeping position, on his side, curling into himself and closed his eyes. He let out a relieved sigh and Tony could visibly see the way Steve’s body relaxed into the soft fabric and huddled closer to Tony, who couldn’t help but smile a how small he looked.

“Tony?”

“Hm? Yeah?”

Steve held Tony’s hand a little tighter, giving it a squeeze.

“Can you, like, maybe… will you stay, tonight? Please,” Steve begged, frowning in suspense as he waited for Tony to answer. However, his expression softened as soon as he felt a tickling breath behind his ear and a pair of lips brushing his cheek.

Before definitively answering, Tony took one last glance the gorgeous face he so suddenly had fallen in love with. His forehead was covered in a thin layer of fever-induced sweat. He had dark circles under his eyes, a clear indication of just how badly he needed to sleep. His nostrils were still twitching ever so slightly and he sniffed quietly as he tugged himself closer to the duvet.

Tony had never imagined that he would fall in love with the man he had both idolized and hated when growing up, but then again, he never thought good things could actually happen to him. But this. This was more than Tony could ever hope for.

He laid down next to Steve, wrapping an arm around his waist, letting the bigger man be the little-spoon, and he instantly felt sure that this would be the best night’s sleep the two insomniacs would’ve had in a very long time.

“I’ll stay. Of course I will.”

74 notes · View notes

munstarr · 4 years

Text

The Guardian

Hello everyone!! I just edited this again and decided to re upload because I wasn't happy with it originally and I wanted to write something id love, now I can say I am super happy with the outcome!! This will be a slow burn, eventually nsfw! Currently working on the next part! Id love and appreciate some feedback! Please feel free to DM me! Thank you so much for reading!!! ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥

A little over eighty years ago Earth scientists sent out a signal into space in an attempt to make contact with other beings. In a surprising turn of events an alien alliance ship happened to be passing by, how had they missed earth before? Well the milky way was merely a skid mark compared to the rest of space. After months of back and forth between the alliance and Earth. Many planets had decided to make contact with earth with wonderful intentions and were more than willing to share their technological developments. In exchange most species requested to study human life and their history. After many trials and errors the Earth officially joined the planetary alliance. Together they worked out many systems and programs to mix species and learn from each other, Thus our current story begins!

Planet Yalnak was an unearthly forest filled planet with cool days and a deep purple sky. The program they had implemented was different from others in the Alliance. Humans could only sign up to live on Yalnak to be of service to the home species, the Nuks or to study a trade. Yalnak was one of the more stubborn planets who were hesitant, after learning of Earth’s hatred they were the last from the alliance to make contact. It wasn't until learning and witnessing of Human’s surprising endurance and loyalty that they joined and formed an earth acceptance program.

On Earth, Azura flipped through all the different planetary Alliance program brochures.She had been working as a hospitality and business specialist. Working towards her degree and getting to her dream job in less than three years time. After chasing her career goals she thought she would be happier. Another busy day of working had her coming home drained for what felt like the millionth time. She sure could use a change she thought. Sighing deeply she placed the brochures on the coffee table in front of her. ‘’Pfft’’ She blew a piece of coily raven hair out of her face, Maybe a hot bubble bath would ease her stress instead. Azura drew herself a relaxing milk bath, filling it with different oils; after setting out lots of candles she slipped into the hot soapy water. She sank into the tub closing her eyes, these were the only times she felt that she could truly relax. Her big bundle of raven curls spilled out of her clawfoot tub. Rubbing her rich mahogany body with her creamy bath butter, she whimpered. Her lathered up pink loofah traveled all over her , leaving a trail of bubbles all over her curvy body. It had been a long time since she’d had any sort of real pleasure. Not that she felt she wasn’t attractive, at twenty - four she was a small chocolate woman with a lean body and a bosomy frame ,or so she had thought. It had been a long while since she had been with anyone, let alone on an actual date. She sunk deeper into the warm bubbles as she roamed her body with the loofah, slowly caressing with the soft fabric. With closed fluttering eyes she imagined the type of person she fantasized to be with her. He was strong and tender as he gripped her throat tightly squeezing as he circled her clit with his strong roughened fingers. He caressed her hot button as her head fell back against his solid chest, nibbling her bottom lip as she let out a muffled moan. Azura imagined such a thing could happen to her. She’d gone through college as a studious maverick, putting her grades above all else. She was paying for it now she felt, getting nicely along in her career but feeling very lonely at times. She had been getting a degree in helping others have fun essentially, without ever really having any herself. Without even having any close family or even friends she was starting to feel more alone than ever. “UGH” she grumbled aloud, splashing her hand against the water and huffing in frustration. Now she couldn’t even relax with herself! Of course, only she could make herself sad in the middle of a fantasy. She pouted and decided to drain the bath and cut her losses. After drying off and oiling herself up for bed, she slipped on a satin red slip with a lace peekaboo. Another night of eating dinner alone to the sound of terrible reality tv, after two episodes of bad reality she clicked it off deciding it was time for bed. On her way out of the living room she decided to toss her brochures into the recycling, none of the programs were right for her anyway she thought. Huffing she tossed them into the bin. One dark colored brochure had fallen out, she hadn’t noticed it before. It said very plainly in black letters on the outside the word “YALNAK” . Azura had heard of this planet, it had accepted the least amount of humans into their program, only posting new ads when they had specific positions open. She picked it up reading the first and only page which had ads for tradesmen to study and helper companions. Azura thought being a helper could be interesting but didn’t want to waste her time being a glorified errand girl. Every ad was submitted by individuals of the planet it seemed. There was an entry that caught her eye and was offering triple the pay! The only downside was that she had to submit qualifications and pass an assessment, she’d never been great at taking tests she thought. The description was vague but seemed to offer interesting benefits and career opportunities. Her interest was piqued of course, so she decided to give in and opened her telepad to do the application, what's she got to lose? After uploading her resume and completing the exam online she uploaded both to her telepad. This could be a long shot but she was ready for a new adventure, besides being a helper companion couldn’t be so bad. She decided to send an introduction to the ad placer to tell them about herself and to say how she could be right for the job and how she was ready for a change, whatever it was. Maybe it sounded desperate? No, she shook off that silly anxious thought and hit submit. After sending she smiled to herself and decided to go to bed, excited about new possibilities. A few days later Azura decided to check the ad to see the status of the position , since she hadn’t heard anything back yet. Checking her telepad she frowned, it said in bold red letters “FULFILLED”. She was disappointed but she knew it was a gamble to begin with and probably not even worth her time. Shaking off her unexpected disappointment she went on a run to clear her mind and think about her future. Her big coily space buns bounced on top of her head as she ran, her rich skin shining in the sunlight. After a few times around the block she was tired and decided to walk the rest of the way home to enjoy the cool breeze. Approaching her apartment door she noticed her mail had been delivered. She had received a large metal box and a thick black envelope place on top. Taking the huge box into her house she carefully sat it on her coffee table. “What the hell..” she whispered to herself. She sliced open the letter and it read “ Congratulations Azura Elaine Emem from Earth, You have been chosen to be a helper companion for the honorable guardian Mirin”. She reread the letter in confusion, she was great at what she did but she wasn’t sure how she could be of any assistance to some honorable guardian! The letter continued “Please read the inclosed packets for further briefing on your new assignment”. Azura opened the box to find it contained brief information about the planet, it’s customs, and a request form for Earth foods she’d want while there, and last but not least a black square and a note. Azura picked up and inspected the intricate wax seal before carefully peeling it off and carefully unfolding the letter. In beautiful writing it stated simply ‘Dear Ms.Emem, I wanted to personally contact you because I am looking forward to working with you and want to set you up for success. Inside the black holding bonds I have included your uniform for the beginning days of training along with my crest, please wear this on your right side of your garment.’ With a short goodbye it concluded. Azura was stunned, she wanted a new life but wasn't expecting it to actually happen. She felt a new fire ignite inside of her, she was nervous for a new life but excited nonetheless. With a slurp of her melting iced coffee Azura smiled, wondering what sort of life she had signed herself up for.

#exophilia #my writing #munstarr #oc #slow burn #monster boyfriend #Intergalactic #Original Work #poc fic

15 notes · View notes

jasonsthunderthighs · 5 years

Text

Everyday life (Kara x Reader (???))

Summary: Everyday life with your personal Android, Kara, to take care of you in your everyday life. (I suppose. This is just a vent story.)

A/N: This is kind of a vent story from my personal life into a little story of what would happen if I personally had an Android from the game Detroit: Become Human. I didn’t know which Android to pick out of the ones we know or the main three, so I asked my friend, and they said Kara. So she’ll be the Android that I’ll write about. So I guess this’ll be under the category of “Kara x Reader”? *Shrugs* I might have this in two or three parts. Depends on how many of you show interest in it. I apologise in advance for this not being DC related. I kinda got burnt out on DC and went back into the D:BH fandom. (Though, the game kinda mentally fucked me up for weird reasons. I also completed it in a day (allnighter cause I have no life) and only played it once, in fear that I’d get depressed after playing the game the second time. But my favourites are Markus and Luther so far. I also somehow got Conner killed at least five times and Hank to hate me with a dying passion, so I never understood the Conner x Hank (Conhank? Hankcon? Cohan?) ship, when I never saw that dynamic between the two characters, which sucked ass, honestly.) But, I honestly hope you guys like this. I also don’t regret making this with angst, by the way. I am not good with fluff, so you’ll get angst.

TW: Suicide mention, suicidal thoughts, pills, whatever bad thing anybody can think of at the time I’m writing this at 2 in the morning with the lack of sleep.

Word count: 2,256 (I am so not sorry for how long this is. I kinda got carried away.)

“(Y/N)... (Y/N)... It’s time to wake up...” You feel a soft nudge on your shoulder, earning a soft, tired groan, as you move the covers over your head.

“Five more minutes...” You muttered, wanting to go back into your deep sleep and away from the reality of the world that awaits you.

“It’s 9:45 a.m., (Y/N). You need to wake up and be productive in your day.” The blanket was gently pulled off of you, the chilled air hitting your bare skin. You grumbled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and saw your personal Android that your grandparents gave you a few years before they passed, Kara, looking at you with a gentle smile on her face. “Good morning, (Y/N).”

“Morning, Kara...” You mumbled, not wanting to get up to do anything in particular today. It’ll just be the same thing; eat breakfast (if you decide to eat that morning that is), exercise a little bit, possibly take a shower, write one a little bit for your books in your sequel, eat lunch (also if you decide to eat at that point in the day), therapy for that day out of the month, do other miscellaneous things until dinner, relax a bit or write some more and go to bed. The same thing over and over.

“The weather today will be clear skies with a temperature of 18-degree Celsius (64-degree Fahrenheit) and a 20% chance of showers.” She continued on, moving the curtains out of the way to let the sun in the messy room. “Your therapist appointment is today at 3 p.m., and your father left a voicemail for you, wanting to know when you’ll come over to visit.”

You forgot about your dad wanting you to visit. You honestly didn’t want to in fear he’ll mentally abuse you again for the time you’re over there. It makes you shiver from the very thought of it. You don’t even want to listen to the voicemail he left for you. “I don’t want to see him… Can we do something else?”

Kara can see the distress in your face, knowing that you really don’t want to see your father at the moment or anytime soon. She smiles warmly at you, “Of course, (Y/N). What is it you want to do today? After you have your breakfast we can do something today until your therapy appointment at 3.”

“I don’t want to go to therapy.” You mumbled, “They don’t help me at all and say the same thing over and over. Sick of it. Heard the same bullshit for the past (age) years. I don’t need to hear a broken record from a ‘professional’ and waste my money on it.” Looking up to see Kara’s eyes and her warm smile, the poor machine doesn’t understand the basics of human emotions unless she turns deviant. You sometimes wish she can become a deviant, so you can have a friend to turn to and not a motionless machine with human features. It can get frustrating, but sometimes you don’t mind it and grew accustomed to it.

“Therapists are here to help you, (Y/N). Your grandparents made sure of it to get you to a good therapist to help you with what you need help with.” Her voice was the same; no tone changed or emotion of real concern if only there was a way to change it and to have someone who actually cares instead of saying what she’s programmed to say to you.

“They’re dead now… I don’t need any help. How would you know what I need? You’re just a machine with no human emotions or understanding.” you snapped, not in the mood to handle the emotionless words from the Android.

The words seem to not register for the Android, she just smiled at you, “I’m here to help your everyday need and wants. And you need to see the therapist, upon your grandparents' request before their deaths.”

She was right; your grandparents gave you Kara to help you and not be as depressed as you were before they died.

You paused, looking at her and sighed in defeat, “Fine. I’ll go. But I don’t need the help from her anymore. She’s just not worth my money anymore.” You see her smile in response as you get the same clothes you wore yesterday; black jeans, a shirt with (favourite band) logo, a light weighted jacket with the sleeves rolled up to your elbows and your doc martins, not caring of what you were wearing and not wanting to take a shower that day.

You walk out of your room, heading downstairs to the little office to write a little bit, Kara following closely behind. “What do you want me to make for breakfast, (Y/N)? You need to eat and take your medicine.”

Ugh. The pills. You never liked them to begin with and hated taking them in the mornings and nights. You try to get out from taking them a few times when you’d get yourself drunk at night, can’t give intoxicated people pills. “I’m not hungry, Kara... And I don’t want those pills. They don’t help me at all. Just like what (dad’s name) said, they’ll never help me and make me lose my creativity..”

“That’s not true, (Y/N). Even (therapist’s name) has told you in past sessions that it’ll take time for the pills to work... Your father is sick as well with his mental illness. He just wants to scare you..”

You scoff, hearing this the millionth time this month of the year, “You’re only saying that cause she told me that... I don’t want the pills and lose my creativity. I already lost my grandparents, I don’t want to lose the very thing that I’m good at and what keeps me alive.”

“You don’t have to eat, but at least take your pills for the morning. You’re supposed to take them with a meal, but you can at least take them with something to drink or crackers, (Y/N).” Kara walks up to you with the pill bottle in her hand.

You’re not going to go anywhere with your protest against the Android, so you nod, wanting to get the whole thing over with. Maybe the pills will help you in the long run with your (mental illness) you’ve been struggling with since you were a teenager. “Fine... I’ll take the pills. I don’t see the point of it all, but only to make you not tell her.” You take the pills and the glass of water from Kara, swallowing the pills with the water and took some of the crackers she placed on your desk. You were hungry, but you never really ate breakfast, afraid to throw it up like you always have in the past. But at least the crackers helped with your stomach a little bit. “Thanks, Kara...”

She smiled warmly, seeing the little process you’re making this morning. It’s not a lot, but at least it’s something. “You’re welcome, (Y/N). Are you going to skip your exercises today? You skipped doing them yesterday. Maybe doing some afterwards will help you with relaxing...”

You shrug, not in the mood to, but you suppose it won’t kill you to do a few exercises today. That’ll be a little accomplishment for the day. “I guess I won’t… I’ll do a few exercises after I’m finished writing a little bit... Why don’t you do a few chores whilst I write a bit?”

Hopefully, she would forget that you were also on suicide watch, after your last attempt to commit suicide after your grandparents died, you landed in the psych ward for the last seven months. It was Hell for you, but you’re glad that you’re finally out and in your own home again. But that never stopped you from still thinking of trying again in the future.

“You’re still on suicide watch, (Y/N)... (Therapist’s name) told me to watch you in the next seven months... I’m sorry, (Y/N)...”

“But there’s a camera in here that was installed by the psych ward to help you watch me in my office... I just want a little alone time, Kara. Surely you understand that..” You looked up at her, really wanting to be alone and not have the Android babysit you. You’re a grown-ass adult, you can do fine alone in your own office for 30 to 45 minutes.

Kara looks at you, her LED lighting up yellow; processing what could happen if you’re left alone for such a short time. She decided to let it slide for just today and not report it to your therapist this afternoon. “Ok, (Y/N). Only for today for 45 minutes. I’ll be back from doing the chores that are needed to be done for the day. And I won’t tell (therapist’s name).”

Those words were music to your ears, that’s enough time to have alone time for you and your thoughts. You smiled widely at her, “Thank you, Kara.” You couldn’t hold your excitement of actually being allowed alone time for the first time in two months since you left the psych ward.

Something in her made her body flutter from your happiness; the first time she’s seen you happy since your grandparents died. She loves seeing you so happy, your big smile and laughs made her... Actually happy. She feels so warm and content when she sees you happy. It’s a weird feeling, knowing that she’s not supposed to feel this way, so she keeps her thoughts to herself. She knows you want a friend to talk to, and she can talk to you, but she’s not obviously the best type of “friend” for you.

“You’re welcome, (Y/N). I’ll be back in a bit. Just know I am watching you from the tablet. I don’t want to regret this and sees you get sent back to the hospital.”

You nod, knowing that you wouldn't do it at this time whilst she’s watching you carefully on camera. “I understand. I won’t do anything whilst you’re gone. You have my word.” You raise your hand as if swearing to her on the Bible, smiling at her.

She looks at you with a puzzled look, the last time she “had your word” was the last time she saw you before calling the paramedics and you being shipped off. But, it’ll be easier to watch you since you’re in one room with a camera watching you. “Please don’t hurt yourself, (Y/N). I’ll be back in 45 minutes.”

You nod again, watching her leave your office to do some quick chores around the house; which they weren’t bad or hard to do, only to do the laundry, clean the sitting room a little bit of the trash you left from the night before, wash the dishes and make your bed.

~~~

It only takes a good 37 minutes to do all the chores; especially for the laundry to get washed, dried and folded, since you barely wear different outfits in the week and your washer and drier takes no time. Every now and then she’d check the tablet to see what you’re doing in your office to only see you either talking to yourself or writing in either your notebook or typing on your computer. It gives her peace in her mind to know that you’re still doing ok without her personally watching you and not hurting yourself. She really doesn’t want you sent back to the psych ward again. Your therapist said that you’ll be in there longer if you’re sent back from another suicide attempt.

Kara walks back into your office, looking at the clock on the wall for it to be 11:07 a.m. and seeing you with your head on the desk, probably asleep. She wondered what you could be dreaming about. Hopefully, something pleasant to get away from the reality of the world that you live in.

“Papa...” You mumbled in your sleep, bringing Kara’s attention back to you. Your grandparents. That’s what you’d be dreaming about, it’s so simple yet a touchy subject to talk about at times unless reminding you what they wanted what’s best for you before they died to get you to do the simple things you didn’t want to do.

Kara nudged you a little to wake you up, “(Y/N)... Wake up... It’s time to do your exercises... C’mon.” She helps you up as you groaned sleepily, following her to the sitting room to get ready to do your daily exercises.

“Ok, ok... I’ll do ‘em... Do you-” You looked up to see your exercising equipment ready for you to use. You just planned to do 20 sit-ups and half an hour on your treadmill. Just as you were getting ready to lie down to do your sit-ups, you hear a knock on the door and your head immediately went to the door. “Kara, do you know who was going to visit me today?”

Her attention went to the door as well, not knowing who it is on the other side of the door, walking closely towards you her voice was hushed as well as yours, “No. Nobody was scheduled to visit until next week from the psych ward and your psychologist for a monthly visit.”

You heard the familiar voice followed by a second knock on the door, “(Y/N). I know you’re in there. Open up.”

“Shit... What’s my dad doing here?”

47 notes · View notes

purplepersnicketywrites · 6 years

Note

Hi! I absolutely love your fic Purple Kiribaku Drabbles so I wanted to send in a prompt! I'd love to see Bakugou taking care of a very sick Kirishima I know there are many sickfics in this fandom, but to me they are never enough ;)

God yes,, , I love sickfics, , , and i love,, feverish Kirishima. let’s see…

Oops i think i just wrote a whole oneshot fic? this is not just a drabble and i don’t know… what happened… this is like 2.5k… tfw ur muse holds a gun to your head....

there’s a lot of Science here at the beginning too, lemme know if any of it’s too obtuse!!! I think i could write so much more on the science behind the effects of quirks but i caught myself before i rambled too much, I hope!

One aspect of Katsuki’s quirk that no one ever really thought about was what it did to his body temperature. Katsuki was a full two degrees warmer than average, something that had caused great alarm to his parents when he was younger.

It wasn’t something that weird - bodily temperature changes caused by quirks were hardly unheard of - but it was different enough that doctors had been interested in him. It turned out that temperature was important. He’d had all sorts of blood tests, and samples of his digestive juices taken (he did not want to fucking think about that, thanks).

His enzymes were different, apparently, suited to working at 39.5C at their optimum. It didn’t sound like much of a difference, but enzymes were special proteins with specific shapes set by a specific order of molecules that was what DNA itself coded for. They had to be in certain shapes to do what they needed to do. It wasn’t just digestion - enzymes did everything. They built all the body’s structures, or built the things that needed to build them. They moved things between the body’s cells. And Katsuki’s were different because they worked at a higher temperature, one that might cause other enzymes to denature - for the heat to warp their shapes and render them useless.

So his DNA was weird - a little different to either of his parents. Samples of his own specific enzymes were stored in a lab somewhere, with little white labels stuck to each tube.

Protease-Var.47334758-BK

Lipase-Var.47334758-BK

Amylase-Var.47334758-BK

And so on. They also had samples of, ugh, his fucking gut and skin flora. Apparently, the fact that all the beneficial bacteria in his gut or on his skin could incubate at a much higher temperature than normal was interesting. Katsuki wondered if bacteria could get quirks at all, and if his counted.

Thanks to all of that, Katsuki’s immune system was extremely robust. Hardly anything he caught lasted long enough to cause him any trouble. His body reacted to everything with a mild fever, and as he was already so warm, he hardly noticed it.

It was kinda satisfying. Fuck off, pathogens, unless you wanna be burned. Yeah, so, that was kinda cool.

Unfortunately, Kirishima was currently way too out of it in his own fever to really take in a word of what Katsuki was trying to explain to him about his quirk.

“No Baku-man,” Kirishima slurred. “You can’t be here, you’ll die.”

“I fuckin’ doubt that,” Katsuki muttered. Part of him cursed the rest of their friends, who had volunteered him for Taking Care Of Kirishima Duty Because Dude You Almost Never Get Sick It’s Like Magic. Part of him was planning to cook them all a meal as thanks, because holy shit Kirishima was weirdly adorable while suffering from feverish delusions and Katsuki was heartily enjoying himself.

“I can’t let you die, Bakubro,” Kirishima said, trying to sit up. “You’re my best friend and it wouldn’t be manly.”

“I’m not gonna die, dumbass,” Bakugou rolled his eyes and pushed the other boy bak down, again. He retrieved the cloth from where he had had it soaking and laid it over Kirishima’s forehead.

“Feels good,” Kirishima murmured at the cool cloth. “But- But dude you gotta leave. I’m full of viruses and they’re gonna get you too.”

“I’d like to see them try,” Katsuki declared.

Kirishima’s brow furrowed. “You can’t see viruses, Buddy-gou! They’re invisible.”

“They’re not invisible, they’re just really small,” Katsuki snorted.

“Yeah, yeah, they’re sneaking- Sneaky,” Kirishima said. “They’re not manly, Brokugo, I have so much not-manly in me and it’s going to spread.”

“Not to me,” Katsuki said. He’d flick Kirishima’s forehead, but the other boy probably had a killer headache and he wasn’t that much of a dick. “You hungry?”

Kirishima blinked. “Am I what?”

“Hungry,” Katsuki said. Kirishima’s eyes widened. What? “Hungry, Kirishima? Like, do you want food?”

“Oh hungry,” Kirishima said. Katsuki wasn’t sure what Kirishima had heard and he didn’t want to know. “You should eat so you don’t die more.”

“I’m not going to die, holy fuck,” Katsuki snickered. “What ab-”

“But everyone dies,” Kirishima said in a small voice. What the fuck. “No one lives forever. And that’s sad. I’m sad, Bak-you’ll-be-gone.”

“Oi,” Katsuki said, moving the cloth on Kirishima’s forehead a little. “Don’t go getting all depressed and existential while you’re fucking feverish. You should be telling me there are lizards on the wall, not lamenting about the mortality of man.”

Kirishima looked at the wall and spoke with keen interest. “Where are the lizards?”

“Keep looking,” Katsuki said. “Do you want food or not, Kirishima?”

Kirishima gazed at him with hazy eyes. “Hungry? Yeah, yeah, I’m hungry! Food me.”

Katsuki snorted. “Gotcha. I’ll be back soon, you idiot.”

“Hey’m not an idiot,” Kirishima stuck his tongue out and then clamped his hands over his face. “Oh no! The virus!”

Katsuki snorted again and made for the door.

When Katsuki got back to Kirishima’s room with food for the both of them, Kirishima was crying.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Katsuki said under his breath, setting the food on Kirishima’s desk for the time being. “Oi!”

Kirishima looked up at him, tears dripping down his cheeks. “There is water coming out of my face.”

Katsuki sighed and sat back on the bed. He pulled the cloth off Kirishima’s forehead - it was already drying - and used it to wipe at Kirishima’s face before he dumped it back in the water bowl.”That’s ‘cause you’re crying.”

“I’m crying?” Kirishima asked. He sounded horrified. “Why?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know?” Katsuki said. He gave Kirishima’s leg a pat and then put the cloth back on his forehead. “I left the room to make food.”

“Oh,” Kirishima said. He frowned. “Wait, you shouldn’t have come back! What if you catch this thing off me?”

“I’m not gonna catch it, Kirishima,” Katsuki said, rolling his eyes.

“But what if you do? You might die,” Kirishima said. Back to this for the millionth time? Honestly. Katsuki didn’t reply, instead going to the desk to grab their food.

“Here,” Katsuki said, giving Kirishima one of the bowls.

Kirishima’s eyes sparkled. “Food! You’re so nice.”

Katsuki shook his head, and watched to make sure Kirishima was eating before he started on his own. He didn’t seem to be doing all that well with his chopsticks. Katsuki set his own bowl aside and plucked Kirishima’s chopsticks from him. “I’ll do it, dumbass.”

Kirishima blinked when Katsuki shoved the first piece of chicken into his mouth. He caught on quickly, though, and they got about halfway through the dish until Kirishima held up one hand. “Not hungry any more.”

Katsuki frowned. He hadn’t made huge portions. Still, better not push the sick person into eating too much.

“You feeling any better, Kirishima?” Katsuki asked.

Kirishima considered. Then his eyes began to water and he shook his head. Ah, fuck, what?

“My head hurts and the room is spinning and I don’t want you to die,” Kirishima choked out in a half-sob. Augh. “And I’m sick and I don’t want to die either.”

Katsuki shuffled up the bed so he was sitting next to Kirishima to pull him into a slightly awkward one-armed hug. Kirishima was way better at doing this stuff. “You’re not gonna die, Kirishima.”

“I will one day,” Kirishima said, leaning heavily into Katsuki. He frowned. “I have- There are words I can’t get ‘cause my brain is melting. Bakuguy you make my brain melt.”

Katsuki squeezed Kirishima’s shoulders. “Pretty sure that’s the viruses.”

“Bas’ards,” Kirishima muttered. “But I get the brain-melties around you even without all the viruses.”

“What?” Katsuki stared at Kirishima. Nope, no way was he receiving a fever-addled confession from his best friend right now, right?

“Ooh, I shouldn’t have said that,” Kirishima shut his eyes. “You’re gonna be mad at me when I’m better.”

“Why the fuck would I be mad?” Katsuki asked. Why on earth would Kirishima think that? Kirishima squirmed.

“Gonna be,” he said. He looked at the wall. “I don’t like lizards.”

Katsuki squinted. “You’re deflecting. That’s not a real fever-dream.”

Kirishima pouted at him. Fuck, he was cute.

“We’re gonna talk about it when you’re better,” Katsuki said. “But I’m not mad, alright?”

“Hm,” Kirishima said, head lolling onto Katsuki’s shoulder. “I hope not. You’re my best friend, Katsuki.”

And with that, Kirishima fell asleep.

Katsuki didn’t pounce with questions the second that Kirishima was back to being lucid. No, he waited until the evening after he’d been declared healthy enough to return to classes.

“Man,” Kirishima said, when Katsuki walked into the redhead’s room to find him setting down a pair of dumbells and sitting heavily on the floor. “I think I lost a few pounds being sick. I need to build myself up again, you think?”

Katsuki took a few moments to admire Kirishima’s physique. “You look fuckin’ fine.”

“Hm,” Kirishima hummed. “Still, wouldn’t mind someone to spot me in the gym some time.”

Kirishima grinned at Katsuki. Ah, the perfect moment had been presented.

“You sure about that?” Katsuki asked, tilting his head and arching one eyebrow. “Didn’t you say I make your brain melt?”

Kirishima stiffened, and a bright red blush bloomed over his face and down his neck. “I said what?”

Katsuki grinned, and went to flop over onto Kirishima’s bed. “‘Oh Bakugou, I get the brain-melties around you!’”

“Oh my god,” Kirishima groaned and covered his face. “I’m going to go back in time and kill fever-me.”

Katsuki snorted. “No, for two reasons.”

Kirishima peeked at Katsuki between his fingers.

“One: you were pretty damn concerned about dying the whole damn time, and I put a lot of effort into assuring you that you’d be fine,” Katsuki said. “Don’t make me a liar. Second: it was cute as fuck.”

Kirishima went a few shades darker behind his hand. “Wh- What?”

“What was all that about anyway?” Katsuki asked, intending to prolong this as long as he could, sitting up and crossing his legs. “You got all weepy and morbid. You really didn’t want me to die.”

Kirishima looked away. “Fuck. Uh.”

Katsuki waited.

“Ah, I, um,” Kirishima continued. Pinnacle of eloquence, this one. “That’s something I’ve been- Since the raid- We’re all heroes, y’know, man? Or, well, we will be.”

“Yeah,” Katsuki said. Where was Kirishima going with this?

“Well, it’s… It’s not the safest profession we’ve chosen. Especially if you make it big. The better you do, the more dangerous it becomes, which, well, it makes sense,” Kirishima said. His hands had moved from his face to hug his knees. “It’s something- Of course no one wants it to happen, but it’s something we accept for ourselves. Dying on the job. ‘Cause it does happen. And sometimes it happens to people you know.”

Katsuki swallowed. He was beginning to regret asking about this now. “Right.”

“That’s, uh, sort of the part I haven’t made peace with, yet,” Kirishima said. “That if someone has to die, it might not be me? So I guess, the idea of you dying is. It’s the worst thing I can think of.”

“Me?” Katsuki asked. Kirishima looked back at him then.

“Yeah,” Kirishima said. He bit his lip for a moment, and then continued. “I know that’s- I know it’s kinda stupid.”

“It’s not,” Katsuki said.

There were a few moments of silence between them.

“Even if we get to grow old,” Kirishima said. “One of us is gonna die before the other. From, from a heart attack, or something. There’s gonna be a time where only one of us exists. That’s scary.”

“Fuck,” Katsuki said, running a hand over his face. “That’s fuckin’ heavy. I came here to flirt with you and you go and drop an existential bomb like that?”

“Ah, sorry, Ba-” Kirishima paused. “You came to what? But you-”

“You’re not the only one who gets the brain-melties, Kirishima.”

“That-” Kirishima shook his head. “Dude, mood whiplash. What the hell.”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow. “Oh? You’re in the mood?”

“Hhhaah?” Kirishima spluttered. “You can’t just- You’re sitting on my bed!”

“And, weirdly, you’re not,” Katsuki said. He grinned at Kirishima’s reddened face. “Come up here and let me ask you out properly.”

“Oh my god,” Kirishima said, scrambling up. “I’m gonna kiss your annoying mouth off.”

“I don’t kiss until after a date,” Katsuki said, as Kirishima sat down beside him. “So hold that thought.”

Kirishima pulled him into a hug. “You’ve never been on a date, Bakugou.”

“Never kissed anyone, either,” he said.

Kirishima moved back to squint at him. “You’re serious, oh my god.”

“You know I’m not fuckin’ into people,” Katsuki shoved at him, but lightly. “Or into f-”

Kirishima covered Katsuki’s mouth with a hand. “But… you are apparently into me?”

Katsuki grabbed Kirishima’s hand from his mouth and held onto it.

“Yeah, so go on a date with me and we’ll see how the kissing thing works out,” Katsuki said.

“God, I thought you were just gonna make fun of me for liking you,” Kirishima said. What?

“I’d never fuckin’ make fun of you for that!” he shouted, outraged. That was just fuckin’ rude. He took his hand back. “I’m not that much of an asshole!”

“No, no, no, no! I know that! Not in like, a mean way,” Kirishima said, taking Katsuki’s hand again. “More in a ‘haha I’m flattered but my barn door doesn’t swing that way, it doesn’t swing any way, my barn door is locked and you already know that’ sort of making fun.”

Katsuki snorted. “Now that’s a fuckin’ metaphor. Guess you have the key, or whatever.”

“Aww, the key to your heart?” Kirishima sparkled at him.

“Don’t be so fuckin’ mushy,” Katsuki growled. Kirishima sparkled harder. “Yes, okay? Fuck you.”

“Which date does that come after?” Kirishima asked. Katsuki felt himself turning red now. Great.

“Shut up,” Katsuki mumbled. “Where d’you wanna go for the first one? Meal? Movie? Both? Neither?”

“Anything would be good, dude! Oh... Are we even allowed to go out?” Kirishima mused. His thinking face was so cute that Katsuki should maybe have thought a little harder about imposing kissing restrictions on himself like a goddamn moron. “I mean like, physically. I don’t think anyone can stop us from dating.”

“I would kill anyone who tried.”

“That’s so sweet,” Kirishima said, and squeezed Katsuki’s fingers. “Oh my god we’re dating. Or maybe I’m still having a fever-dream.”

Katsuki pinched him, hard enough to make him yelp. “Nope. You gotta deal with me in the real world forever, now.”

“Sure sounds like a dream,” Kirishima said. He smacked away Katsuki’s hand going in for a second pinch. “Hey, hey, I get it! I’m just trying to call you dreamy.”

Fuck. “Fuck.”

“Oh no, what am I supposed to say to the others when they ask about how you asked me out?” Kirishima asked, eyes widening with horror. “Because I told you I had ‘the brain-melties’ while in a feverish delirium? They’re gonna laugh at that forever.”

“I’m gonna laugh at that forever,” Katsuki said, smirking. “Tell ‘em to fuck off.”

“Simple, but a little crass,” Kirishima said. “And no match for their nosiness.”

“Change the story every time they ask,” Katsuki suggested.

Eijirou groaned. “And when they ask you?”

Katsuki just grinned.

#kiribaku #bakushima #my fanfiction #reply #anon #drabble #but not really

112 notes · View notes

12miraenie · 6 years

Text

Contradiction (pt3)

Pairing: Sehun x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warning: Nothing…besides explicit language and throwing stuff on the floor

Word Count: 1245

Chapter Summary: There are many things about Sehun you couldn’t quite place, but you see him in a different light compared to everybody else, even your brother.

✾ Link to Masterlist

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 |

“I didn’t say that you could wander.”

You almost dropped the photo on the sound of his voice. Looking over the shoulder, you saw Sehun leaning against the doorframe lazily, arms crossed in the front staring at you. Coughing, you tried to get rid of the heat creeping onto your cheeks, but you could still feel your heart picking up its pace. Gingerly, you put the photo frame back onto the shelf and smoothed the rolled up edge of your, or rather his shirt.

This was the first time you really looked at him. Somehow last night remained a hazy memory for you, and this morning you were too embarrassed even to make eye contact. Your breath hitched. Sehun looked impossibly perfect in broad daylight. You wondered how the world can favor one person so much to give him those features because there’s really no word or phrase you could use to describe him. His hair is slightly wet and messy from the shower, the few strands covering his forehead only added to how attractive he looked. You noticed his eyebrows with slightly different shapes, and one eye looks a bit more elongated. You couldn’t even blink. The little asymmetry on his face seemed more like a crowning touch.

“Do I sense a compliment? You didn’t even blink staring at my face for that long.”

Feeling embarrassed, you looked down and then away. Trying to come up with a clever response, or to distract him from seeing the blush on your cheeks, you held one hand in front of you that conveniently covered the left half of his face in your angle, and squinted your eyes.

“No. I am thinking...I like the right side better.”

Sehun shot you a confused gaze.

“Your face. The two sides of your face look different. You didn’t notice that yourself before?”

Sehun was wordless, also a little baffled. He had imagined a different response from you. A ghost of a smile graced his lips. He cleared his throat.

“You should go. I also have somewhere to be. I am sure your brother is worried.”

You broke out of your trance. What have you been thinking? You are alone with a stranger who your brother explicitly told you means “bad news.” And you were joking with him?

“Ok.” You mumbled and brushed past him into the living room, with Sehun following suit. He closed his eyes in relief and relaxed his tense shoulders when you weren’t looking. At least you didn’t find the folders and papers interesting on his desk. That would put him in big trouble. Even if he’s no longer considered a friend by your brother or heard anything from him, Sehun is smart enough to know that Baekhyun is pursuing a career in law, and had already signed an internship contract with a firm. He couldn’t take that risk.

Your jaw dropped when Sehun stopped in front of a car and unlocked the car doors. The bright red color reflected sunlight to the degree that your eyes burned. You rubbed your eyes and blinked again. You reached out a hand and touched the car tentatively, instantly feeling the coldness of metal.

So you weren’t actually dreaming.

“Where to?” Sehun looked into the rearview mirror and fixed the angle a bit. You squirmed in the comfortable leather seat and covered your mouth with a hand, trying to conceal how shock you still were.

“Do I drop you off at-”

“You drive a freaking Maserati?”

“So?”

Sehun cleared his throat. Something close to nervousness flashed in his eyes, but your gaze was too fixed with his car to notice.

“You...Oh my god, how is it even possible for you to afford it?”

He held an amused expression on his face when you’ve finally done fawning over his car and turned to look at him. For a second you were unable to speak. How can someone look so...something even perfect cannot describe. He was breathtakingly beautiful. It’s impossible not to feel attracted to him. You think it’s the millionth time you’ve looked at him in awe since this morning. Realizing you have been staring at him like an idiot again, you quickly turned your attention to the window in embarrassment to hide the blush on your cheek.

You were lost in your thoughts, not even realizing that Sehun had already maneuvered the car out of the driveway to the main road. You paid attention to the road sign and widened your eyes. He lives in Cheongdam?

You were awed, and beyond confused now. How is that even possible for someone close to your age buys an apartment there and a car like the one he’s driving? You remembered Baekhyun’s words about him and furrowed your eyebrows. It’s ridiculous to think about him that way. He doesn’t fit any one of the words your brother used to describe him. Granted he doesn’t talk a lot and isn’t exactly the gentle and smiley type, but Sehun seemed like a genuinely good person from your interactions with him. And besides, his clothes, apartment, and car all screamed that he’s more like a chaebol than a once suspected criminal.

“Byun Y/N. Where to?”

You broke out of your own trance and stammered, “Oh-umm...SNU please.”

Sehun nodded in acknowledgment. You wanted to ask if he needed directions but decided to shut your mouth. Of course he’d know, he was an SNU student well. Occasionally you stole glances at him, and the way he moves the stick shift and turns the steering wheel so effortlessly. Seeing that he probably had no interest in making small talks, you crossed your arms and leaned back in the comfortable seat and looked out at the passing traffic. Sometimes later, Sehun turned on some music, and you fell asleep soon to the low hum of the radio.

“Wake up.”

You felt someone shaking your shoulders gently. You opened your eyes groggily and stared right into Sehun’s eyes. He was leaning over from the driver’s side looking at you. You caught a whiff of his cologne and quickly leaned back. He was too close to you, way out of your comfort zone. You broke eye contact with him and turned your attention to the outside. The bronzed lettering of SNU’s Korean and English name came into your view.

Your voice had turned a bit raspy when you opened your mouth.

“What time is it?”

Sehun took a glance at his wristwatch, which you didn’t fail to notice is Rolex.

“Umm...9:54?”

“Oh shit.” Your eyes widened. You were supposed to be at your Physics study group at 10, which left you 6 minutes to walk to the other end of the campus and climb five floors.

“I have to go, study session...ugh why can’t this open?” You fumbled trying to find a way to open the car door when it suddenly slid open on its own. Turning around, you saw Sehun looking entertained, his thumb hovering over a button on the control board.

“Of course, your car door shouldn’t open the normal way.”

Fixing your hair one last time, you turned and smiled at him. “Sehun-ssi. Thank you so much for last night and this morning.”

I hope I can see you around.

You quickly unbuckled yourself and got out before the door closed again. Of course, you couldn’t just say the last sentence out loud. What would he think? You didn’t exactly want him to take things differently. But honestly, you thought. Sehun wasn’t at all the person your brother described him to be. He’s like any other person, you didn’t believe him to be capable of doing anything close to committing a crime. The fact that no sufficient evidence suggested he killed his father confirmed your logic too. Maybe there’s a huge misunderstanding in the way your brother and his friends thought about Sehun. You hoped they could sort it out one day.

Sehun rolled the window up, not wanting you to turn around finding him staring at your back. He sat silently in the car, with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on his leg. He just couldn’t get the image of you smiling at him out of his head. He didn't miss the unusual way his heart reacted when you smiled.

Your eyes did something to him that Sehun didn’t know if he should try to forget or feel happy about. You were genuinely thankful, because of him. No one had acted this way to him for a long time now, Sehun even thought that he had lost the ability to feel anything at all. He got a little dazed staring at you because it felt unreal for someone to act civil, friendly, and genuine in front of him. It’s surprising how much influence other people’s opinion about you can change the way you see yourself. Did he see himself as a murderer too? He didn’t think he could feel normal again.

Sehun pushed these dark thoughts away. He adjusted the rearview mirror again and spared a glance at the yellow folder on the backseat. Collecting his thoughts, Sehun stepped down at the accelerator.

It’s time for real business.

75 notes · View notes

stil-lindigo · 7 years

Text

beachside bonzoes

AN: hello everybody! this is something different to what i usually do so uh. please be kind. I was going to post this yesterday but with the cancelling of dirk gently i decided to put it off to today. i thought we might all need some fluffy rowdy time.

summary: the Oh No van’s AC breaks down and the rowdies terrorise a tourist beach. there’s family, anarchy and just the slightest bit of drummerwolf. also, the universe being super passive aggressive.

beachside bonzoes

Squinting against the bright, burning, sun, Amanda Brotzman downs the last of her water from her water bottle and groans.

‘Ugh,’ she mutters as she slumps back into her tattered passenger seat. ��It’s like I’m drinking my own sweat.’

‘Ewww, boss!’ Vogel yelps in disgust from the backseat. ‘Now I’m roastin’ and grossed out.’

‘Gross-ting,’ Gripps’ voice is croaky from where he’s splayed out on the red seats, arm slung over his face. Cross lies beneath him, diligently fanning both Cross and Vogel with old magazines.

‘Toasting,’ he adds with a tired chuckle. Nearby, Beast emits a low growl.

‘We’re fucking burnt, boys,’ Amanda sighs and glances over at their shitty air conditioner chugging out metallic-smelling but cold air. Martin grunts at her from the driver’s seat before she can get a word out.

‘ ‘s on the highest setting, drummer. Ain’t nothin’ gonna make it work harder.’

Amanda groans louder and rolls the grimy window down, staring out at the passing landscape with a tangible irritation. This suffocating heat had been plaguing them for a few days now and the new, thinner clothes they’d managed to snatch at a roadside op shop were already filthy from sweat. The Disney shirt Vogel had been so excited about had been the first casualty and was now operating as a bright, pink sweat rag.

Martin, strangely enough, didn’t seem to be too affected by the heat. In saying that though, the boys had basically stripped down to their boxers the moment the temperature went over 40 degrees. Amanda still held a sneaking suspicion that the one reason they weren’t going commando was because of her and Beast.

At her millionth deliberating sigh, Martin taps her on the shoulder and silently hands her a cigarette, gesturing to the window.

‘Do I look that bad?’ she mutters wryly and he shrugs, a small smirk gracing his features.

Without any preferable option, Amanda leans out the window and breathes in the addicting scent of smoke. Martin uses a pretty shitty brand but it’s all she’s got and right now, it tastes like heaven. Like something akin pathetic fallacy – a big word she learned in high school that she never used again after graduating – a miraculous cool breeze sweeps by, ruffling her tied up hair so that strands break free from the hair tie and swirl around her face.

‘Thank you, universe,’ she breathes blissfully and then immediately regrets it because, as always, the universe just loves to mess with people. The moment the words leave her mouth, their air conditioner makes a horrible, sputtering grate of a sound and wheezes out a foul-smelling cloud of smoke. Martin smacks it with increasing severity and, after the third strike, knocks the grate clean off. The air conditioner does not restart.

‘You have got to be fucking kidding me.’ Amanda could cry. And she only cries at dogs dying and beautiful canyons. From the backseat, Vogel whimpers out a long exasperated groan that, with Beast’s help, quickly devolves into a strung-out growl.

‘The hell.’ The short, plaintive word is the only indication that Gripps isn’t dead.

Cross is already clambering over the others and pushes in between Amanda and Martin in the front. For a second, he squints at the smoking mess of an AC.

‘Yep,’ he grunts. ‘That’s busted.’

‘Fuck,’ Amanda drags her hands down her face and then snatches up her phone. As always, the battery is dying but it’s got enough. ‘Google maps, don’t fail me now. There better be a mechanic close by.’

Within a few minutes, she’s found one only a few miles away. It’ll mean a detour from their usual, instinct-driven route but if it means a working air conditioner, they’re more than willing. It’s when they’re only a few minutes away that Amanda stops mid-instruction at the sight of a sliver of blue.

‘It’s the ocean!’ Amanda bolts upright and sticks her head out the window, watching as a sandy bay sneaks into view.

‘What is that?’ Vogel, marginally less comatose, leans over Amanda and squints at it. From behind him, Gripps does the same and suddenly all of the rowdies are tumbling into the front and Martin’s screeching to a stop.

‘That’s one big lake,’ Gripps says. ‘Where are the giant ducks?’

‘That’s a lotta…’ Vogel fumbles for a word. ‘Yellow. What’s it doing there?’

‘It’s sand,’ Cross grins. ‘It’s wannabe dirt.’

‘That’s cool! I wanna touch it!’ and with that, Vogel’s out the door and running down to the bay. Whooping, Cross and Gripps follow, towing a confused and disoriented Beast behind them.

‘C’mon, Boss!’ Vogel shouts back around halfway down the hill and Amanda glances back at Martin. He shrugs.

‘Why not? It’ll cool them off.’ He says. ‘Go on and join ‘em. I can take the van myself.’

‘Really? We can always take it later.’

‘Sooner the better, right? Also-’ Martin pauses and runs a hand through his hair. ‘Don’t do well with sand.’

‘How Skywalker of you,’ Amanda smiles at his confused expression as she hops down to the ground.

‘I don’t get it.’

‘Yeah, sorry. It’s a reference,’ she says. ‘But don’t go alone. At least take Beast with you.’

Ever since Blackwing separated the rowdies, Amanda’s felt wary of letting any of them go anywhere alone. It’s a paranoia that she’s just a little bit embarrassed by but she would be perfectly happy if she was never separated from this family – her family – ever again. Conveniently, Martin is an emotionally-aware vampire and, maybe its because of that that he lightens the mood with a low chuckle.

‘Don’t think I’m scary enough to get a discount on my own?’

‘You?’ Amanda laughs. ‘Scary? Absolutely not.’

‘Oh?’ Martin produces a cigarette and lights it, fitting it snug between his lips.

‘You’re too lovable. Like a big dog.’

He stares at her for a second, his jaw working around the cigarette, then shrugs, puffing out a wispy cloud of sweet smoke.

‘I can live with that.’

‘Boss! Look!’ Amanda turns at the sound of Vogel’s voice and comes face to face with a giant inflatable duck with some unfortunately drawn features.

‘Did you steal this?’

‘Nah, some guys threw it at us when we came near so we’re keeping it!’ Vogel’s face splits into a wide toothy grin. ‘It’s super cool!’

Behind him, Gripps comes into view, wearing a wide-brimmed sunhat and glasses with blinds on them.

‘Drummer! There’s a clothes shop here! It’s crazy!’ he yells, gesturing down at a small shack down by the pier. ‘Look at this!’ And with that, he pulls the cord on the glasses and snaps the blinds shut. ‘My world is broken!’

‘Okay, please tell me you paid for this,’ Amanda pauses as she takes in the sight of the curtain glasses. ‘Actually, don’t. Don't tell me you used real money to get that.’

‘It’s a cash bash!’ Cross jumps in between them, smiling wide as he gestures to his new baseball cap that reads ‘Money Maker’. Amanda knows her face is wearing an expression but she has no idea what it is.

‘Why,‘ she says.

‘We paid, boss! Don’t worry, we used the money we stole from those bad suit guys before!’ Vogel shoves a handful of $50 notes in her face and bounds away like a hyper kangaroo. ‘Let’s go fight a fish!’

Cross and Gripps whoop and bellow out their grunts of agreement and skid down the sandy bank. From behind her, Martin lets out a content chuckle and grabs a few notes from the bundle.

‘Guess I’ll be going then,’ he says. ‘Beast?’

The rainbow-haired creature scurries up and leaps into the passenger seat with palpable relief. Beyond her, Martin sits back, turns the ignition and the van purrs into life. Amanda’s about to join her boys down at the beach when-

‘Oi, drummer.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Woof,’ he winks, deliberately, his smirk matching the quiet intensity of his eyes, and then the van’s gone, barreling down the road.

It’s hot out, Amanda reminds herself as she makes her way down to the ocean. Flushed cheeks don’t mean a thing.

The beach-side clothes shop actually had a pretty decent selection, Amanda finds as she peruses their clothes racks.

More than decent, in fact. Some strange few could say that it was in tune with the universe.

After a few minutes, she emerges from the shop’s air conditioned depths wearing a worn-down ‘Mexican Funeral’ top and some skin-tight swimming bottoms. The top is thin and soft from age and the lettering is a bit cracked but, as Amanda flaps it to let a cool breeze in, she finds that it’s completely what she’d expect. The store clerk’s face had lit up when she’d handed it over for him to ring up – apparently the band was ‘super obscure’ but ‘totally underrated’ and it wouldn’t even be stocked if the guy hadn’t insisted to ship some in.

Damned universe. Too nosy for its own good.

I get it, she thinks to the universe as she sprints down to the water, picking up speed. Call your brother. But not right now. Right now-

And here, she kicks off her boots, her socks and jumps –

-right now, I’m cooling off.

With a thunderous splash, she’s underwater and the change is instant - the water is shockingly cold, biting into her skin like a knife before her body catches up with the plunge in temperature. Bubbles foam around her in clouds and she grins, giddy off the relief of the sea on her burning skin and watches water rush past her as she boosts herself to the surface. She breaks into open air to the whoops and cheers of her boys. They’re all around her, wet and dirty and sweaty and hers and she bundles them into a tight, slippery hug, laughing and shouting with them as they drag her into their rhythm. It’s dumb, this is so dumb, playing like toddlers seeing the sea for the first time but then she remembers the years she spent in fear in her dim, crusty room and – even more than that – the boys, for them, this might be their first time so she lets the world go and blows raspberries into the air. Cross squeezes their inflatable duck ring around her and he and Gripps haul her up and carry her towards the horizon, like she’s a queen on a yellow plastic throne.

‘We’re fucking insane!’ Cross howls over the crash of the waves and they roar, together, with their squeaking inflatable duck and handfuls of seaweed and wet sand. High off exhilaration, Vogel dives underneath and pops out of the water with a starfish in each hand, giggling.

‘You’re a star, kid!’ Amanda speaks like a talk show host and Vogel beams.

‘I don’t know what that is!’ he hollers and in an instant, the starfish are chucked back into the water and he’s leaping at Amanda, arms outstretched. ‘Capsiiiize!’

They go down like bowling pins, splashing back into the water. Amanda resurfaces, spitting out saltwater and picking seaweed out of her hair but she laughs and splashes Vogel right in his mischievous face.

‘You dick!’

The plunge doesn't seem to slow down Cross and Gripp’s momentum and they drag up Vogel from under his armpits, slapping him on his back good-naturedly before they promptly dunk him back into the water. Instantly rebounding, Vogel flaps around his wet hair like a dog and smacks a clump of wet sand into Cross’ hair.

It’s pretty dumb how much fondness she feels for these mud-slinging idiots. But she doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of their reckless energy, their chaos that pumps life through her veins. Friends, family - they’re her boys and Amanda doesn’t think she could love them more. For a moment, a weird anxiety finds her (an attack? no, although she hates that she still feels a stab of fear at the thought of them) and she wonders if they know – she hopes they know how much she loves them.

Suddenly, the ground is falling away and Amanda’s abruptly torn from her thoughts as Gripps unceremoniously chucks her onto his back.

‘Get yer head out of the clouds, drummer!’ he yells as he charges into the fray of the mudfight. ‘We gotta get some dirt on ya!’

With bellows and laughter thrumming in her ears, Amanda leaves behind her cloudy thoughts and shrieks out a giddy battle cry.

Grant Brantley has worked at his little garage for a little over a decade. And maybe its because his business is right next to a tourist-magnet beach that brings in weirdoes from all over that makes his new customers a bit more normal. The man’s fine (even though his disproportionately-coloured hair is a bit odd). It’s more his friend that puts Grant off. She’s got brightly dyed hair and kind of a-a pale sort of complexion and he thinks she’s shaven off her eyebrows which makes her scurry-walk a bit more off-putting. Also she keeps on sniffing his tools. He just hopes she doesn’t start licking them.

‘Hey, um – ‘he turns to the man who said his name was Martin and then did not give a surname which makes Grant’s job a bit more difficult because usually he refers to the lads as misters but now he’s just gotta say ‘sir’ which makes him feel like a chimneysweep or a needy orphan and in fact, he’s pretty sure he’s older than Martin but what can you do? ‘-sir, your uh…could you please ask your friend to stop sniffing the merchandise? I swear they haven’t gone off.’

It’s supposed to be a joke – an icebreaker, you know- but Martin nods, seriously, as if it's a legitimate concern.

‘Hey, Beastie,’ he clicks his fingers and the woman happily scuttles over, abandoning the outdoor display of wrenches. Grant thinks she’s talking to Martin but – god, she’s gotta be foreign, right? He can’t even understand what language he’s speaking. It sounds like she’s imitating a chain-smoking frog but – c’mon, Grant, don’t be mean, it’s not as if you’re a well-travelled bloke in the first place, what would you know about foreign culture. He chances a friendly smile at her and she returns it with a mouth of sharp teeth and a high whistle. Oh boy.

‘So,’ Martin clears his throat a bit awkwardly as he shifts on the step he’s sat upon. ‘How long will it take to fix the AC?’

Thank god, familiar territory.

‘Oh, it’s a simple fix, really. An hour or so,’ Grant scratches his head thoughtfully as he takes in Martin’s hulking van. He thinks those are bullet holes peppered into its graffitied hide but honestly, he’s dealt with weirder.

Upsell, he reminds himself, like those persuasive kids at the fast food places. ‘I could easily spruce up some stuff. She’s a bit of a clanker. And it won’t cost much more.’

‘Nah,’ Martin says not unkindly, and produces a battered pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his loose jeans. ‘Gotta get back soon.’

Grant politely flicks out a lighter before Martin can and holds the flame steady for the other man. Martin nods appreciatively and, miraculously, Grant feels a bit less wary round the guy.

‘Got someone waitin’ for you?’ he says as he unlatches the car door and begins to work. From the corner of his eye, he sees Martin smile to himself.

‘Yeah, a few guys.’

‘And a girl, I bet,’ Grant replies. ‘Or a guy,’ he adds, catching himself at the sight of Martin’s odd expression. ‘Either is fine. Or none. I don’t mind. Love is love and all that.’

He’s babbling now but Grant tends to get that way when he’s nervous. ‘Sorry, don't mean to impose. You looked mighty happy there is all. And don’t get me wrong, you can look happy about friends – I ain’t the type of guy to think we lads can’t have good, non-sexy relationships – but also, you know-’

Martin laughs a small laugh but it’s got some mirth behind it so Grant trails off and hopes his furious backpedalling worked. The white-haired man puffs on his cigarette and leans his head to one side in a bit of a conceding shrug.

‘Yeah,’ he allows, after a second. ‘Yeah. I guess it’s a girl.’

Martin doesn’t seem like he’s going to say any more on it so Grant doesn’t push it. Mentally, he breathes out a sigh of relief. Gosh, his big mouth has gotten him into problems in the past – he’s just glad that this time the weird guy seems alright. Might be the cigarettes. Hey, it might be a good idea to keep his supply stocked then, right? Right. Okay, good thinking, Brantley. Now suggest it without also implying he’s hooked because god knows you’ve come across some kooks who were adamant about their independence, honestly -

‘Hey, we’ve got some more cigs inside,’ Grant blurts out and gestures towards his little shop. ‘They’re right next to the cash register.’

Martin looks surprised for a second.

‘Don’t think I’ll steal them? I’m just a stranger.’

Grant shrugs.

‘They’re only $5. I’m not that hung up on money,’ he pauses. ‘Also I can see you through the window.’

The white-haired man huffs out a chuckle. ‘Mm. Smart building design.’

He stands up, stuffing his hands into his pockets and gives an appreciative nod to Grant.

‘Thanks, Mr Brantley. Might take you up on your offer.’

‘Might?’

‘Gotta check the brands first,’ he grunts jokingly and he makes his way into the service shop.

Grant turns back to the van and mentally dances a happy jig. He knows the type of guy Martin is – he’s met a wide bunch of people in this job – and that exchange was good, as in it was a Big Deal in its goodness. The guy feels less intimidating now that they’ve had that conversation. In fact, now he thinks he shouldn’t watch through the window in that half-looking-but-also-could-just-be-engrossed-in-the-rear-view-mirror way he’s cultivated.

The choice of whether or not he spies on Martin, however, gets thrown to the side at the sound a familiar revving engine. Grant groans and puts his head in his hands. Really? Now?

With a screech, a sleek, scarlet sports car rounds the corner and skids to a stop directly in front of the workshop. Its occupants, a group of four, tank-top wearing young men, clamber out with whoops and guffaws. Grant sees that one of their shirts simply reads ‘You Suck’. Another, who he knows has not served, is wearing dog tags on a necklace. One of the men, the shortest, steps forward and leers at Grant.

‘Hey, Mister Brantley,’ he sneers. ‘What’s up?’

‘Hello, Sherwood,’ Grant steps away from Martin’s van and approaches the teenager with a palpable reluctance. ‘Are you drunk again?’

Immediately, Sherwood’s smile is replaced by a snarl and he jabs an accusatory finger at Grant.

‘Yeah? And what the fuck are you gonna do about it?’ he hisses. ‘Don’t forget my dad owns these parts. You complain and I’ll kick your ass out of here. You’re already on thin ice with your asshat son.’

‘I’m –’ Grant sighs. This is the worst. ‘I’m not going to complain.’

‘Good,’ Sherwood sneers. ‘Go get me n’ my boys some smokes.’

Grant is about to go in when he remembers – Martin. The white-haired man is staring at him over the countertop, a new pack of cigarettes in his hand, and from where he’s standing, Grant can see he’s put down a $5 bill next to the till. The older man shrugs, overcome by embarrassment, and brushes past Martin apologetically. With a sigh, he begins piling boxes of cigarettes into a plastic shopping bag.

‘They ain’t gonna pay for those, are they.’

It’s more of a statement than a question really and Grant grimaces.

‘No. They’re not. But what can I do?’ He ties off the end of the bag with a forceful twist. ‘Charlie – that’s my boy, really smart kid, he’s gonna do great things – Charlie’s gotten into a fight with Sherwood over there. His dad owns this land and money ain’t real consistent – this is a tourist place, you know.’

Grant doesn’t completely know why he’s telling Martin this stuff.

Something about him makes you wanna spill your beans, he thinks to himself. Whether in fear or not.

A striking yelp jolts him out of his thoughts and his gaze whips to the boys standing in his parking lot who are currently fending off a rainbow-haired woman. He sprints out of the shop to find her – Beast – circling them on all fours and forcing them back with intermittent snarls.

‘Ma’am!’ Grant calls out, a bit lost. ‘Uh-ma’am please uh-’

Sherwood’s head shoots up at the sound of Grant’s voice.

‘Oi, Brantley!’ he shouts, furious. ‘Is she yours?!’

‘No! Sherwood, she’s uh – a customer- ’

‘A customer?’ one of Sherwood’s friends shrieks out. ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’

‘Bullshit!’ Sherwood screams and Beast answers with an even louder growl that sends the boys backing away towards their car. Sherwood levels an icy glare towards Grant. ‘Look at you, using this bitch to chase us off. You could’ve just given us the smokes, you dick!’

‘Sherwood, wait-’

‘Beast.’

Martin steps out beyond Grant who is currently fumbling for words and approaches the woman. She whips around at his footsteps but immediately softens at the sight of him. Grant’s close enough to hear that she says something that sounds like ‘meanie’. Meanwhile, Sherwood and his friends have already slipped into their sleek car and with a round of middle fingers, they’re hurtling away at breakneck speeds.

Grant still doesn’t know what just happened.

‘Oh boy,’ he whispers to himself and his legs fold under him. Martin looks over with a placated and somewhat remorseful-looking Beast beside him. ‘What a shitshow. Pardon my language.’

‘Sorry,’ Martin says.

‘Don’t trouble yourself, son,’ Grant gestures offhandedly as Martin takes a seat on the concrete next to him. ‘This was comin’ sooner or later. In fact, I wish I could’ve done it myself instead of your friend obliging.’

‘Mm,’ Martin hums in agreement. ‘That’d be a sight to see.’

‘You know, Sherwood really ain’t that bad either,’ Grant chortles at Martin’s expression. ‘Yeah, I know. He used to be an okay kid, though. I think he got messed up in something shady a while back and now he feels invincible. He just needs a bit of a wake up call.’

Martin wordlessly picks at his teeth, as if attempting to dislodge a morsel of food. Beside him, Beast swings back and forth on her haunches.

‘You scared, Mr Brantley?’ he asks, quietly. ‘Sherwood’s probably gonna go tell his pa.’

‘Oh yeah, I’m a little fearful,’ Grant sighs. ‘But you gotta roll with these punches.’

‘Damn straight,’ Martin claps him on the back and gets to his feet and stretches, yawning wide.

‘Tired?’

He shrugs.

‘Just ready for a meal.’

It’s around when Vogel’s finishing up on burying Cross in sand that Amanda notices the ice-cream.

‘Hey!’ she yells from where she’s floating on the inflatable duck. ‘Look! People have ice cream!’

At her shout, a number of people give them weird looks but she’s used to it by now. Weird is good when it means you get a strip of beach all to yourself. Gripps arises from the shallows where he’s arranged seaweed on his forehead like a wig and scares a nearby unwitting couple.

‘We’ve got ice cream here?’ he says. ‘Why aren’t we eating it then dying from brainfreeze?’

As if to demonstrate, Vogel flops to the ground in mock-unconsciousness, letting his tongue loll out of his mouth with carefree abandon.

‘Brainfreeze!’ he echoes and from underneath, Cross fist bumps his way out of his sandy casket.

‘Waffle cones!’ he yells and somehow produces a sun hat to slap over Vogel’s head. ‘They’re good crispy.’

Amanda’s already wading up to meet them, dragging her loyal duck behind her as she approaches the still partially-buried Cross.

‘You still got the money, Money-maker?’ she asks wryly and he slings off his cap to show the notes stuffed into the seam.

‘You know it, boss,’ he flashes a toothy grin. ‘Get me a bubblegum.’

‘Sweet tooth,’ she pokes him on his nose and he laughs, loud and mischievous. Suddenly, Vogel drops into Cross’ lap and grabs Amanda’s face by her cheeks.

‘Pineapple for me, boss!’ he grins from ear to ear. From nearby, Gripps adds ‘And boysenberry!’

‘Boys-enberry!’ Vogel repeats and giggles at his own joke. ‘Boys!’

Rolling her eyes, Amanda pecks Vogel on the forehead and revels in the brief silence that follows as he blinks up at her, beaming.

‘We get it, Vogel,’ she says then slinks out of his grip even as he laughs and whoops with the other boys.

‘Love you, boss!’ he calls after her and even though she groans from embarrassment and waves them away, Amanda can’t help the grin the creeps across her features.

Surprisingly, the ice cream stall doesn't have a very long queue – probably because Amanda and her boys only noticed it after the big crowds left - and she gets to the front sooner than anticipated.

‘Cool shirt,’ the girl serving her comments and smiles at her. ‘They’re a great band.’

‘Yeah,’ Amanda slaps the dollar bills down on the counter and thinks passive-aggressively to the universe to chill. ‘I like your septum piercing.’

‘Oh! Thanks,’ she giggles and flicks her long aqua-blue pigtails over her back, revealing her own shirt that bears a faded illustration of a Rorschach symbol floating in an eyeball. Unbidden, Amanda feels a smile spread across her face. Good times.

‘Do you want these in a box?’ the girl asks, unaware of Amanda’s thoughts.

‘Yeah, that’d be great,’ Amanda says and then, just for good measure, she winks and adds in a secretive tone, ‘As good as I am with my hands, four at once is a bit much.’

At that, ice-cream girl laughs, really laughs, and her tanned cheeks tinge with red.

‘Nice,’ she says and hands Amanda the holder full of ice cream cones with a smile. ‘Come again soon!’

She doesn’t even get a block away from the stall before Amanda’s already licking her own salted caramel ice cream cone. The taste of it is sweet and relieving after a day of fish and chips and trashy oil-soaked food. Also, she got a strawberry cone and flavoured ice cream cones are one of the better inventions of humanity. The slap of her store-bought flip flops on the burning pavement and the cold creeping through her body from the ice cream leads her into an almost-mesmerising trance. As she walks, she makes up a tune to hum and its like merging a few of her favourite songs together, a mashup of the metal radio station the Oh No Van tunes into from time to time. For some reason, Amanda wonders what Martin would’ve chosen from the ice cream stall.

Is there a nicotine flavor? she thinks to herself, wryly. But the thought brings back a memory from earlier that day – when Martin had given her the cigarette. And it’s as Amanda’s licking her rapidly melting ice cream that she remembers that it had already been lit and halfway done by the time he’d handed it to her. Which means -

‘Fuck!’ Amanda saves herself from tripping just in time and steadies the ice cream cones in their respective holders. There’s melted ice cream all over her hand now but there’s enough still in the cone that the boys will be happy. ‘Jeez, get yourself together.’

From behind her comes a piercing wolf whistle.

‘Hey! Sweet cheeks! Bend over again!’

Amanda’s eyes shoot open wide and she turns around excruciatingly slow to come face to face with two burly guys coming up behind her.

‘Excuse me?’ she’s trying to inject as much disgust as she can into the words, but apparently these idiots have skulls made of steel because nothing’s getting through it. They snort and guffaw at her expression. One air-thrusts at her.

‘Jesus Christ,’ Amanda mutters to herself then faces the two guys directly. ‘What is this, 2005? Get a hobby, you walking troglodytes.’

The men make mockingly awe-struck gasps. The air-humper steps forward to close the distance between them.

‘Oooh, you know big words! Doesn’t make you better than us.’ he says in a sing-song tone. Amanda considers stuffing her icecream down his throat and decides it’d be too kind. ‘And we were just being nice. Jesus, learn how to take a compliment.’

‘It doesn’t take much to be better than you,’ Amanda replies coldly. ‘Knowing big words like ‘troglodyte’ should immediately put me out of your league.’

The man’s smile falls instantly and he makes a grab for her shoulder but she’s already dodged and is considering kicking his incredibly kick-able groin when the familiar growl of an engine roars up behind her.

‘Drummer,’ Martin says in acknowledgement. Beyond him, Beast waves furiously with a new wrench which still has its price tag stuck on. ‘Nice ice creams.’

‘Thanks.’

Martin glances at the two men standing before them and his gaze instantly cools by a few degrees. Even though they’re obviously wary of the newcomer, the two guys have stuck around which either makes them even more idiotic than she originally thought or – nope, they’re just idiots.

‘ ‘s there a problem?’ he asks, his tone icy.

‘I don’t know,’ Amanda turns back to look at the pair of walking examples of toxic masculinity and raises a questioning eyebrow. ‘Is there?’

The two guys mumble something incoherent – probably an insult of some kind – but they hurry past, their pace quickening the longer Martin stares after them.

‘Troglodytes,’ she mutters.

‘Nice insult.’

‘I learnt it off a TV show.’

‘Even better.’

‘Oi! Boss!’ Vogel comes barreling up the hill and it’s only Amanda’s quick reflexes that save the ice cream cones from being toppled onto the pavement. He steers around quickly, leaping up onto the hood on the van in one swift motion and waves at the occupants inside. ‘You found Martin and Beastie!’

‘And you got my Bubblegum!’ Cross snatches his cone from the box quickly and immediately bites into the ice cream. His ensuing expression is somehow triumphant and regretful at the same time. For some reason, Gripps does the exact same thing for his cone and does not get different results.

‘Hey, drummer,’ Cross manages to say as he recovers. ‘What was up with those brickheads that were here just now?’

Martin clicks his tongue in disgust and taps the steering wheel with the palm of his hand.

‘They were peacocking, boys,’ he says grimly and the resulting wave of disapproving growls is deafening.

‘Way old school,’ Gripps mutters. ‘Way crusty.’

‘Damn tail-flickers,’ Vogel seconds.

Cross licks his lips and glares after the retreating forms of the two men.

‘Anybody else hungry?’ he hisses and the other rowdies bellow in agreement, already moving to chase after them.

‘Boys.’

And like that, they halt, shifting to Martin for direction even though Vogel’s foot still taps away on the concrete, impatient.

‘We got a bigger meal waiting for us,’ he smirks dangerously and the rowdies erupt in cheers and congratulatory roars, already clambering into the hollow depths of the van. ‘Ready for dinner?’

With a fond lick and snicker, Beast vacates her seat for Amanda and leaps into the back to curl up on the red velvet floor. Amanda settles herself into the leathery front seat, slams the car door behind her and turns the AC up to the max setting, whistling appreciatively at the blast of cold air sweeping through the van.

‘You’ve been busy, haven’t you?’ she grins at Martin and he answers with a toothy chuckle.

‘I get around,’ he replies then slams on the ignition, lurching forward and bellowing over the growing howls of their rowdies.

‘Now who’s hungry for take-out?!’

Amanda wolfs down the last of her Chinese food from its plastic box and sinks back into the sand with a content sigh. At her left, the six-pack of beer she bought at the convenience store remains submerged in a blue plastic bucket Vogel had stolen and filled with cold seawater.

‘Beer over sandcastles,’ he’d reasoned as he handed it to her. She couldn’t really argue with that.

It’s cooled down now that the evening’s creeping in and she appreciates the cool breeze. It’s a bit of a relief to relax after pummeling those frat boys into the hood of their own car. Amanda’s hand automatically twitches at the memory of swinging Beast’s wrench into the headlight and laughing as the glass had showered over her.

Kind of dangerous, now that she thinks about it. But she made it out unscathed. So it was probably universally predestined to happen. Amanda grabs a beer bottle and lifts it up to the sky in a toast.

Rest in peace, car, she thinks to herself then downs a mouthful. I barely knew thee.

Quietly, she reflects on the pit stop they made before returning to the beach: a garage owned by a Mr Brantley who she only knew from overhearing Martin’s brief conversation with him. Seemed like a sweet guy. Owned a decent brand of smokes. And he’d patted Martin’s shoulder like he was his dad, despite them seeming to be around the same age. Weirdest thing about it was that Martin let him.

The sun peeks out from behind a purple-pink cloud and she squints. Nearer to the horizon, her rowdies are still splashing in the ocean with their boundless energy. They’re the only ones still there seeing as most of the beach-goers had left around an hour ago but they make enough noise that it would be easy to mistake a crowd still remaining. The stragglers still tend to give them a wide berth and it suits them just fine. Struck by inspiration, Amanda sits up and she howls, letting her voice taper off into the sky. To her utmost joy, her family answers with matching enthusiasm.

One of them breaks off from the pack and lopes up to sit on the bank next to her. Wordlessly, she hands him a bundled-up dry shirt she’d been using as a pillow to dry off his sopping wet hair with.

‘How are you still wearing your glasses?’

Martin grunts and points at the green band tying the legs together behind his head.

‘Rubber bands. Versatile.’

‘Uh huh. But you still can’t see with all the droplets on them.’

He shrugs and ruffles out his semi-dry hair into a comically fluffy-looking mohawk.

‘Survived through worse. Remember the red goggles?’

Amanda laughs at the memory but the reminder of Wendimoor sends her thoughts towards someone else. She sinks back into the sand with a low groan.

Todd.

They’d parted ways after the Wendimoor escapade a few weeks ago and she’d promised to check in from time to time. But, somehow, the prospect of a first phone call after recently making up with him is scary as shit. The stupid thing is that she can’t even put her finger on what is so terrifying about it. They’d sent each other little dumb texts (mainly pictures of the new detective agency and then games of ‘Spot Mona in this messy workplace!’) in the first week and a half but even that mode of communication had died out. Yeesh. ‘Died out’. Bad choice in words, considering the trouble they got themselves into.

Speaking of that, Todd could be on a new case right now. Todd could be in trouble.

And yet, she still doesn’t want to call.

Amanda sits herself up, shaking sand out of her hair, to find Martin staring at her out of the corner of his eye.

‘What?’

‘I can hear you thinking there, drummer,’ he mutters softly. ‘What’s goin’ on?’

She runs a hand through her hair sheepishly.

‘I’ve gotta call my brother.’

‘Toad?’

‘His name is Todd. But Toad totally works. He’ll love it.’

Martin looks out thoughtfully towards the horizon.

‘You’ve got time. Phone’s in the van right now.’

Amanda chews on her lip for a second.

‘I mean. I could always do it tomorrow.’

‘Putting it off isn’t very punk.’

‘Oh, fuck off,’ she snickers and punches him in the arm good-naturedly. She’s 90% sure he doesn’t even feel it.

‘C’mon, drummer,’ he continues. ‘What’s keepin’ you?’

Her smile falters and her eyes dart down, away. It’s personal, this stuff, family stuff. But she’s gotta face this at some point, doesn’t she? And here, in the dying sunlight with a fresh pack of beer…

She knocks her head back and gulps down the rest of bottle’s contents, hissing as it burns on the way down. On her left, Martin watches her with a half-cocked eyebrow.

‘Okay, so,’ she slams her hands down as she starts but they kind of just disturb a sand pile which irks her a bit. ‘Me n’ Todd have technically made up but like, there’s still a lot of weird boundaries here and I don’t know, my head’s still not the greatest and I-’

She trails off as she looks over at Martin. He’s listening, really listening, with his eyes trained directly on her and his genuine intensity makes an irrational guilt rise up in her.

Stop sidestepping the issue, she tells herself and sighs.

‘I’m scared of getting close to him again,’ she says finally. ‘Old Todd was a complete shithead built entirely on lies. And New Todd is…new. And I know he’s trying. But I don’t know how New Todd is going to be.’

Amanda looks out towards the horizon. She feels tired, for some reason. There’s something else she wanted to say, something about her not wanting to get hurt again, but that seems a bit too cheesy. And, as she looks over to gauge Martin’s reaction, she finds her eyes meeting his and she feels like he already knows.

Damn emotion-sensing vampires.

He releases a gravelly sigh and looks out at the sea as well. His glasses have dried off somewhat and now they shine, reflecting the weakening sunlight onto his well-defined features.

‘You won’t know until you try,’ he says after a little while. ‘Give it a shot. It’ll be better than nothing.’

‘Will it?’

‘You don’t let opportunities pass you by, drummer,’ at this, he turns to her and grins. ‘You tie a note to a brick and throw it at them.’

‘…sweet talker,’ she mumbles because it makes her smile, as dumb as it is, and she props her elbows on her knees, trying to hide the dusting of red spreading across her cheeks.

Dammit, he’s right. Or she’s right. At some point, her wariness had lessened and now she thinks it’s the only course of action really left for her. The fear’s still there, simmering, but it’s tolerable. And god, she’s faced down psychopathic shape witches and, even worse, dudebros so what the hell. With a purposeful exhale, she dusts the sand off her knees and gets to her feet.

‘Okay. I’m doing it,’ she announces and Martin nods in encouragement.

‘It’s in the cupholder,’ he says and turns away, giving her privacy as she makes her way up to the van parked behind them.

Amanda’s grateful he doesn’t follow. This is something she needs to do alone. Desperately, she remembers what she’s about to do and her brain races to formulate a plan but, goddamnit, the walk to the van really isn’t that long and then she’s there, the phone is in her hand and she’s punching in Todd’s phone number.

Amanda breathes out a shaky exhale, her other hand clenching into a fist at her side, and then hits the green call button.

‘Dirk, there a lot of black cats out there,’ Farah explains exasperatedly. On the opposite side of the diner table, Dirk stops shoveling his strawberry pancakes into his mouth and looks up, eyes twinkling with inspiration.

‘Maybe we can make an ad specifically catered to black cats associated with a range of disappearances or gorey murders!’ After a second, Dirk’s beaming expression falters. ‘Wait, actually –’

‘Why are we even using our resources on this?’ Todd interrupts as he picks at his own scrambled eggs and toast. Farah gives him a pointed look.

‘Because it’s a liability! We’ve got to take care of loose ends!’ she explains. ‘And, maybe we can harness its-its sharkness and use that for ourselves!’

‘I don’t know, Farah,’ Todd mutters. ‘I don’t think it’ll be that easy to control kitten-shark. Because, you know, it’s literally a shark in a kitten. Like, what if we forget to take out its litterbox one day? Do we just get chomped?’

Dirk lifts up his maple-syrupy fork in his I-have-a-point-to-make way.

‘But Todd, I should say this,’ he says. ‘The kitten-shark did seem to like me. Maybe I’m the key!’

‘Yeah and what a shocker that would be,’ Todd says wryly and moves to pick up his fork so that he can eat more of his meal. Immediately, Dirk slaps him hard on his shoulder. ‘Whoa, what the hell?’

‘That’s. Mona!’ Dirk states deliberately and holds up an identical fork. ‘This is your fork!’

‘How can you even tell?’

Dirk blinks at him, wide-eyed.

‘It’s obvious!’

Before Todd can succinctly point out why that is such bullshit, his phone buzzes loudly from its place by his plate and he nearly forgets how to breathe when he sees the caller ID.

‘Holy shit!’ he says, snatching it up. ‘Oh my god, it’s Amanda!’

‘Oh, amazing!’ Dirk claps his hands together giddily and reaches for the phone. ‘We haven’t spoken to her in ages!’

‘Wait what? No-I-just let me-’ Todd hits the answer button quickly and gets out of their booth, striding into a quieter, more private area. ‘Amanda? Amanda, are you okay?’

‘Uh. Yeah. Just calling to check in with you,’ It’s thin and tinny but it’s her voice, not the voice of some would-be kidnapper, so Todd breathes a sigh of relief. ‘I call for things other than disasters, Todd.’

‘Yeah,’ he laughs, a bit nervous. ‘Sorry. Habit, you know.’

‘Right,’ she says and it’s kind of awkward but a background noise catches his attention.

‘Are those…waves?’

‘Yeah, I’m at a beach. It was super hot today and our AC broke so we’re hanging out here now.’

‘And how are your uh-,‘ Todd fumbles for a word for her gang. ‘-your friends?’

‘The rowdies? Oh, they’re loving it. They’re like, half naked and just fucking around in the water,’ Amanda’s voice gains a conspiratorial tone. ‘I’m including Beast in this description by the way so you can report back to Dirk.’

Todd sniggers as he imagines how Dirk would react to the insinuation.

‘Sounds like you guys are having a good time.’

‘We are! Well, most of us. Martin doesn’t like sand.’

‘Wow, very Skywalker,’ he replies and smiles at the sound of Amanda’s laugh.

‘Yeah, that’s what I said!’ she says and, yet again, there’s a short, tense silence. ‘So uh, how’s it going on your end?’

‘Oh, well, we’re at a diner right now: me and Dirk and Farah. Dirk got a huge stack of strawberry pancakes that he’s definitely gonna regret soon.’

‘Pancakes? Isn’t it kinda late for that?’

‘Yeah, Dirk says evening pancakes are a thing. Mona’s here too but I’m still not entirely sure what she is,’ Todd squints back at his booth from which Dirk furiously waves with a fork that could or could not be Mona.

‘Sweet. So no new case yet?’

‘Well, you know how it works. A case’ll come when it wants to.’

Amanda snorts.

‘Soooo you guys are just sitting on your asses?’

‘No! We-we’re trying to find the kitten-shark right now. Farah says it’s a liability we’ve gotta take responsibility of.’

‘Dude, it’s been ages. That kitten is long gone. Although, I guess you can’t really argue when Farah’s in charge,’ she adds sympathetically. Todd nods in agreement then realizes she can’t see him.

‘Yeah, she can be really scary.’

‘But also scary hot.’

‘Amanda!’ he splutters and over the line she breaks into laughter. Again, it devolves into a strained sort of silence before Amanda coughs a bit self consciously.

‘Um. How have you been feeling, Todd?’ she says. ‘The attacks, they-’

‘Yeah, uh,’ Todd continues. ‘You know, they’re a thing. But the pills help. Yep.’

A pause.

‘This is weird,’ Todd says.

‘So weird,’ Amanda seconds. ‘I need to be like, 200% more drunk for this.’

‘You’re drunk?’

‘How do you think this phone call is even happening?’

‘True. I should’ve guessed that.’

‘You’re part of a detective agency, man.’

‘Technically, the detective part is all Dirk.’

‘Doesn’t mean you can slack off, slacker.’

The ensuing silence is marginally less awkward. Todd counts that as a win.

‘I think I need to go soon,’ Amanda says quickly and Todd rushes to respond.

‘Oh! Okay!’ he says. ‘Um. Stay safe! And uh – wear protection?’

For a second, there’s just the sound of waves coming in from Amanda’s end then-

‘What. The fuck, Todd.’

‘I-I don’t know what you guys do so-!’

‘Are you fucking kidding m-’Amanda makes a soul-crushing groan. She kind of sounds like she’s dying. ‘We’re not, like, having orgies 24/7 or something, Todd! Jesus Christ!’

‘-you never tell me what you do! I’m just trying to cover all bases, here.’

Another silence, this one more weighted than the others.

‘Was that a fucking pun.’

‘What?’

‘I can’t believe you!’

‘That was not – I mean, I guess it was – ’

‘You made a pun about - ’

‘- it was absolutely not intentional – ’

‘Okay, I am definitely leaving right now. Bye.’

‘Wait, Amanda!’ Todd exclaims and exhales in relief as the sound of the ocean doesn’t immediately cut off. Amana breathes out a despairing sigh.

‘Yeah?’

Todd swallows down his nervousness.

‘I love you, Amanda. Thank you for calling,’ he says quietly. On the other end, the sound of waves. He’s getting used to the silences now. ‘You don’t have to answer or anythi-‘

‘Love you too, Todd,’ she blurts out. ‘Bye.’

And then she’s gone and Todd is left feeling oddly satisfied with what was, all in all, a very strange conversation.

‘Yes!’ he hisses to himself and skips back over to his booth. Dirk and Farah look at him expectantly.

‘Well?’ Dirk asks. Todd grins mischievously.

‘Amanda wants you to know they’re at a beach and Beast is half naked.’

‘Oh for god’s sakes – ‘

Amanda nearly cracks her screen with how forcefully she ends the phone call and throws the device unceremoniously into the glovebox. Jesus Christ, her face is still red and she buries it in her hands for a good few seconds, desperately willing away the embarrassment.

‘Wear protection’. God.

Still. That end part. That was okay.

With a sigh, she closes the car door and climbs down the sandy slope. Martin doesn’t seem to have moved but now he’s smoking a fresh cigarette and he gestures for her to sit down.

‘I’m guessing it went well, then,’ he says as she slumps into the ground beside him.

‘Well yeah but you are an emotionally-conscious vampire,’ she says, rolling her eyes. ‘No need to guess.’

‘You’re smiling, drummer. Doesn’t take my abilities to know,’ he chuckles as she sputters in embarrassment. ‘Aaand there it goes.’

‘You’re so...’ Amanda grumbles, turning away. ‘May sand eternally plague you.’

‘Mm. Very ‘celestial punishment’. I like it.’

In response, she kicks a wave of sand over his legs. Annoyingly, he doesn’t even move.

‘C’mon, drummer,’ he hands her a fresh bottle of beer from the bucket. ‘Truce.’

She squints at him suspiciously and then snatches it out of his hands. Appeased, he leans back on his haunches and puffs out a cloud of smoke, content. For some reason, it strikes her in that moment as she sips from her bottle how bestial he really feels. Not savage, not like that. It’s more like he embodies the slow grace of a natural hunter, a predator. Eternally watchful.

Amanda wonders, in her stupor of silent contemplation, if he came to her because she howled for him.

‘Somethin’ wrong, drummer?’

She didn’t even notice that he’d moved to look back at her.

‘Just wondering if we’re leaving soon.’

He shrugs and inclines his head towards her.

‘It’s your call. Remember, drummer, you’re the boss.’

She laughs, shortly.

‘The boss? It took me a whole day to hype myself up for a phone call. With my brother.’

‘You did it, though. That’s something.’

From him, the phrase somehow doesn’t seem like an empty platitude. Amanda stares at him for a second then sighs, conceding. And maybe it’s the beer, maybe it’s how she’s so emotionally vulnerable after that phone call that she started waxing poetry. All she knows is that she suddenly feels very tired and she leans into Martin, her head sliding into the crook of his neck. His skin is still damp from the sea and the water seeps into her hair like cool, massaging fingers.

‘This doesn’t feel real,’ she whispers, her voice barely audible. ‘Any moment now, I’ll wake up in my bedroom and go through my list of pills to take and walk around my dumb, tiny house with the door that’s always locked and-’

Amanda trails off as she feels the comforting weight of Martin’s fingers stroke through her hair.

‘It’s real, drummer,’ he says gruffly. ‘We’re here.’

On any other day, this would seem impossible. But today, Amanda smashed a car, broke a frat boy’s nose, drank two bottles of bucket beer and made a phone call to her brother. So she can’t really help herself from leaning up and kissing Martin lightly on his cheek, smiling at the feeling of his bushy beard scratching at her skin. And then she’s on her feet and running down to the waves, joining her rowdies who welcome her with shouts and cheers, desperately affirming to her that this is her life, this is real, and she captures each one’s face in her hands and kisses them on their forehead, their nose, their cheeks.

‘I love you,’ she whispers into them and they hear and celebrate with whoops and laughter and glee and there’s no more silence. No more empty, cramped house in her mind, no pills, no lies.

It can’t be a dream. She knows this now. Her mind couldn’t have even imagined this, much less force it onto her in her sleep.

And then Martin is there, picking her up and swinging her around, his hand solidly placed on her back to hold her close and she’s wrapping her arms around his neck and laughing into his skin. She makes a deep happy sigh and giggles.

‘I am so drunk,’ she says and she falls back, knowing with an unfailing certainty that her family will be there to catch her before she hits the water.

35 notes · View notes

rudemaidenswrite · 7 years

Text

Ice Cold and Mind Games 4

https://rudemaidenswrite.tumblr.com/post/146022615221/ice-cold-and-mind-games?is_related_post=1

https://rudemaidenswrite.tumblr.com/post/146022754441/ice-cold-and-mind-games-part-2

https://rudemaidenswrite.tumblr.com/post/159499388911/ice-cold-mind-games-part-3

The long awaited Part 4! Everyone can blame Sylvanas because she is the one who has had the story edited for literally a year but never posted it.

Warnings: Language. Sexual implications. Injuries. Drugs.

“It totally clashes with my hair! I’m not gonna wear this!” Stacie yelled at Logan. “I demand a refund.”

“Stacie you didn’t even pay for it.” Logan sighed.

“Well I’m still not gonna wear it.” ‘You only picked purple cause it Jessie’s favorite color.’

“I…did not.” Logan defensively growled as he started to flush. He snuck a look at Jessie who was spinning in circles with Kurt.

“Mmhmmmm sure you didn’t.”

“Just get changed Barcus.”

“For the millionth time I am not wearing purple with purple hair!”

“Stacie Stacie Stacie! Lookie it’s purple!” Jessie sang as she ran up to Stacie and hugged her.

Stacie patted Jessie’s head. “I can see that tiny child, I do have eyeballs.”

“Oh really I would have never guessed. Just let me be happy about it ya big meanie.”

“Alright smart ass.” Stacie threatened getting in Jessie’s face.

“Barcus go change!” Logan said pulling Stacie away.

Stacie pouted at Logan. “Bbbbbuuuuuutttttttttt Mr. Logannnnnn.”

“Stop trying to butter me up.” Logan sighed.

“Hey babe.” Peter zoomed up to the trio. “Why haven’t you changed yet?”

“Because it’s purple.”

“You like purple. I mean your hair is purple.”

“Exactly. I can’t wear a purple onesie with purple hair.”

“Wellllll technically it’s a jumpsuit.”

“Peter shut it.”

“But baaaaabbbbbeeeeeee. I have an idea.”

Stacie pinched her nose. “And just what is your idea?”

The jumpsuit in her hand changed from purple to black. “We’ll trade.”

Stacie held it in disgust. “I know for a fact you weren’t wearing anything under this.”

Alex held back his laughter. “Come on Stacie you sleep with Peter on a constant basis.”

“Oh shut it Summers!” Stacie angrily stormed off towards the locker room with Jessie in tow.

“Do you really need me to be with you when you change?” Jessie asked, sitting on a bench.

“Yesssss I has many things to tell you.”

“Oooooo gossip yay!” Jessie said excitedly. “Who’s it about?”

“Give you three guesses Pam.”

“No…Nooo…Noooo?” Jessie said playing along before they start laughing.

“I’m so glad you get my terrible references.”

“Anyways who’s the person in question that the 411 is about?”

“411? What the fuck is the 411?” Stacie hung her head in shame.

“Google it.” Jessie laughed.

“Google? What’s Google?”

“Google it!”

“You did not do that.”

“Um I think I just did.” Jessie said with a smile.

“Sometimes I just wanna hide your body somewhere. But then I think who would help me hide the body, and so I give up.”

“Well I’m so glad you need me for things like that.” Jessie said as she rolled her eyes.

“Okay getting back on the topic before you derailed it with your 90’s lingo, isn’t it odd that we got purple jumpsuits and the guys got black ones?”

“What are you talking about? It’s awesome that we got purple! I mean I love purple!” Jessie jumped up and down clapping.

“You really are secretly a child aren’t you?”

“Noooooo. It’s just purple. You remember when I found those sheets at Goodwill.”

“Yes. You screamed and got kicked out for disrupting the peace. And I had to buy them for you.”

“Good times.” Jessie smiled.

“Stop derailing!”

“Are you two done in there yet?” Logan hollered from the entrance.

“No! Squeezing these puppies in here is really difficult!”

“Stacie!” Jessie says slapping her on the shoulder.

“Shut it. I gotta procrastinate to talk to you.”

“Oh yeah…duh.” Jessie laughed.

“Well hurry up. We don’t have the danger room forever.” Logan said sounding annoyed.

“Bite me old man.” Stacie said annoyed. Logan groaned and walked away from the door. She turned back to Jessie. “Okay before we get derailed and forcibly get dragged out of here I guess I should put this on.”

“Yes. Yes you should or we may fail this part of school, but while you’re changing what’s the gossip?”

‘The only reason we, well you and Peter, have purple onesies is because Logan picked it for you because he wants to impress you.’ Stacie hissed through their bond.

‘Nooooooo you’re lying it’s just by luck that they’re purple. Logan’s not even in control of ordering the jumpsuits. Wait is he?’

‘Well considering he’s the one in charge of the uniforms for the X-Men, yes. Yes he is. Dumbass.’

‘I thought it was Hank.’

‘Hank is in charge of making sure the suits don’t get destroyed when we use our powers.’

‘Oh. Oh so you mean Logan really picked purple for me?’

‘No I’m telling you the sun is really purple and you’re just colorblind. Of course that’s what I’m telling you idiot.’

‘Well ya don’t have to be mean about it.’ Jessie stuck her tongue out at Stacie before heading out of the locker room.

“Wait I need you to zip me up.” Stacie yells after Jessie.

“Zip your own boobs!”

“Fine be that way.” Stacie followed Jessie out with her jumpsuit unzipped.

“Took you two long enough.” Logan sighed. “Wait why isn’t it zipped?”

“Cause. Boobs.”

“That’s why I gave you the purple one. It was for you specifically and your chest region.”

“I got you babe.” Peter walked up and zipped it.

“Oh god. Can’t breath. Jessie I should have worn the binder today.”

“Suck it up Barcus. You’re the one who traded with Maximoff.”

“Okay so no. Peter decided that we were trading.”

“Ugh just let’s get started with class okay?” Logan said as he signaled to Hank to start the simulation. “Alright so this is just a basic obstacle course, well with fire. But there is no chance of injury, just make it through the course without dying.”

“Oh I am so glad you’re our teacher for this.” Stacie sarcastically rolls her eyes as she walks to the start line with the others.

“Now you need to do this without powers, it is just to test your strength. Understand Peter and Kurt no super speed or teleporting!”

“Really I can freeze things and she can read minds how exactly is that gonna help with this?” Jessie asks.

“No putting the fires out.” Logan says bluntly. “And Stacie no making me think you’ve completed the course when you haven’t.”

“Oh that’s just unfair!” Stacie says.

“Now Alex knows the drill.” Logan says ignoring Stacie’s comment. “You have to climb over some stuff, walk across some stuff, crawl for a bit, and climb over a wall at one point.”

“I can’t climb stuff.” Stacie whines.

“Teamwork. Now get ready and go!” Logan said.

“Wait what?” Jessie looks confused as she looks at Stacie, while the boys have taken off.

“Does he expect us to like run?” Stacie asks.

“GO” Logan yells.

“We only run in embarrassingly short distances.” Jessie stated before she and Stacie are picked up and thrown onto the course by Logan.

They start going through the course climbing, crawling and running in short bursts. The boys already super far ahead of them. The girls reach a part of the course with lots of fire and one of the trees that line the course caught fire and starts to fall towards Jessie.

“Jessie no!” Stacie threw her hand out to stop the branch from falling.

“Huh?” Jessie turned and saw the branch starting to fall in slow motion. She instinctively took a step back and tottered on the edge of the platform.

“Alex catch Jessie!” Stacie shouted as she rushed towards Jessie. She slammed into Jessie pushing her off the platform. Jessie fell into the waiting arms of Alex. Stacie’s foot caught on one of the ropes lining the platform. She fell forward onto the platform. “Oof.”

Logan stood with his arms crossed impressed with the groups teamwork. He took in a deep breath. The distinctive smell of burning wood greeted his nostrils. ‘That’s not a good smell.’ Logan inwardly sighed. Of course something would go wrong.

“Ahhhhhhh” Stacie screamed in pain.

“No Stacie!” Jessie yelled. Ice shot up in razor sharp spikes around her and Alex.

“Cut the simulation Hank!” Logan yelled running over to where Stacie was, climbing up to the platform with ease. Pulling the very real burning branch off Stacie; it took him a moment to realize that the room had not changed back. “Damnit Hank! I said cut it!”

“I did!” Hank said frantically running through the door. “This is out of our control.”

“What the hell is going on?” Jessie yelled.

“Let’s get the wounded to the med bay.” Hank said calmly. He scanned over the group quickly. Peter was frozen in fear.

“Kurt get up here now! Teleport us to the med bay.” Logan commands.

BAMF! “Of course of course.” Kurt appeared beside Logan and Stacie. He wrapped his tail around her arm before Logan placed a hand on him.

“Wait.” Stacie weakly stretched a hand out.

“Barcus stop moving. You’re wounded.”

“I gotta say something first. Asshat.”

Logan sighed. “Make it quick.”

“Peter I told you showers after breakfast are bad luck.”

BAMF! Logan, Kurt and Stacie appeared in the med bay. “What the hell have I told you about teleporting in here Kurt?”

“Stacie’s wounded. I told him too.” Logan growled at Jean.

“I thought you were doing the Danger Room today?”

“We were. Now stop asking questions and stabilize her.” Logan laid her on the table.

Jean glared momentarily at Logan before starting to work on stabilizing Stacie.

“So what exactly happened today Logan?” The Professor said clapping his hands together.

Logan sighed. “They were running the obstacle course. One of the branches started to fall. Normally it would have phased out and everything would be fine. Stacie threw her hand out and it started to fall in slow motion. She pushed Jessie off the platform into Alex’s arms. Her foot got caught in the ropes and she fell. The branch fell on top of her. Hank cut the simulation but nothing changed.”

Stacie started to move on the table. Hank leaned over and checked her iv fluids level. He turned up the morphine drip another degree. She immediately ceased her movements. “Honestly Professor I’ve never seen anything like it before. Everything was running normally until the incident.”

“It seems our young telepath has more to her powers than previously thought.”

-Le time skip to after Stacie is stabilized-

Stacie started to wake up. She hazily moved her arms around. “Wow I feel great! What is this stuff? It’s amazing! Can I have it to go?”

“You’re staying here for a while so you can just stay on it right now.” Jessie said sighing. Of course now that Stacie was awake, the first thing she wanted was more drugs.

“Oh where am I?” Stacie asked turning her head towards Jessie.

“You’re in the med bay, you got hurt trying to protect me from a falling tree branch.”

“Oh did I protect you?” Stacie slurred out.

“No you didn’t, what do you think?” Jessie said sarcastically.

“What I didn’t?!” Stacie asked almost in tears.

“No no you did I’m fine you did protect me, I’m fine no crying.”

“What is going on? Why is Stacie crying?” Peter asked walking in.

“She’s high. And I tried to joke with her that she didn’t save me and she freaked out.” Jessie bluntly states.

“Oh okay.” He didn’t look convinced.

“No like really high.”

“Ohhhhhh” Peter said. “No no no. You can’t sit up Stacie. You have to stay on your front!” Peter rushed over and gently pushed her back down.

“You’re my best friend why didn’t I save you?!” Stacie balled.

“What is going on in here.” Scott asked walking in.

“She’s high.” Jessie said. “Like really high.”

“Why is she asking why she didn’t save you, and crying hysterically?”

“Um… she’s just really high.” Jessie jumps at the sound of a newspaper rustling.

“Jessie tried to joke with her that she didn’t save her.” Hank stated as he looked over his paper. “It didn’t end well as you can see.”

“Holy crap how long have you been here?” Jessie asked surprised.

“I’ve been here the whole time, you even looked at me when you walked in.”

“Oh really? I did not even notice you.”

“Alright. Visiting hours are over for the night. Everyone out.” Scott said as he started to shoo Jessie and Peter out. They grumbled but complied. “Hank hold on.” Scott grabbed Hank’s arm. “Are the rumors true?”

Hank pulled his glasses off and placed them in his jacket pocket. “It would appear so.”

TAGS: @markusstraya

#wolverine #quicksilver #nightcrawler #cyclops #professor x #storm #jean grey #beast #hank mccoy #peter maximoff #logan #charles xavier #Scott Summers #rudemaidenswrite

6 notes · View notes