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spectaclespencer · 3 years

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P.H. // Part 3; Need To Know

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N; Chapter 3!! Yay! I will not lie I got kind of lazy and burnt out when I finally got to the smut scene, and for that I am sorry. I’ll make it up to you guys with a future chapter.

Summary; Reader can’t get her mind off of Spencer, which causes distractions at work. Until one day when he catches on.

Category; Smut (Minors DNI!!!)

Content Warnings; Swearing, Kissing, Mentions of masturbation, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Oral (Male receiving), Drinking, Mentions of being shot, Kinda Sub!Spencer, Virgin!Spencer (but not by the end of it)

Word Count; 7.2k

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‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

Spencer Reid. The object of my attraction, the man I fell harder for with every stolen glance I could manage to throw his way. I was obsessed, and that infatuation only grew stronger every day that I saw him at work.

When we went out to bars after cases we ended up in an inevitable game of Never Have I Ever like a bunch of high school kids. With Emily and Derek in the group it almost always turned sexual. It started with innocent things such as; Never have I ever kicked down a door -- to which Derek drinks. There were some targeted jabs, I got Spencer a few times when I brought up an activity I was certain he had done -- just to keep him involved.

However he never drank past that. He never took a sip when Emily made a sexual innuendo, or when she brought up one night stands, number of partners, most bizarre location to engage in intercourse. Nothing of the sort got him to break. I figured he was a private guy, never one to boast about his sexual experiences.

It was frustrating, to say the least. It got to the point where I couldn’t think about anyone but him. I couldn’t engage in any sexual activity without my mind shifting to him, the way he might slip his fingers in and out of me, or how skilled he was with his mouth instead of the person I dragged home. No other person could even begin to compare to the remedy I concocted in my mind. I didn’t have any information to base my fantasies on, either.

I had it bad. So bad, that at one point I spilled hot coffee all over myself in the breakroom over the littlest interaction.

Spencer came in just after me, mumbling a small hello before reaching to grab a mug for himself. In the process of doing so his shirt rode up, exposing a small expanse of his lower stomach that had me sputtering as I clumsily missed my cup and instead poured the coffee all over the counter. It ran down and soaked through my pants; yet it wasn’t nearly as hot as the way I felt on the inside.

I couldn’t help but wonder the noises he’d make if I were to suck dark purple marks across that plain of skin...or if anyone ever had before.

The small burn was a fine price to pay for my inappropriate thoughts.

Him being the sweet guy that he is, offered to help me clean up. This proposal ended up with him taking paper towels and patting down my thighs -- not realizing just how suggestive the action looked to me.

“Sorry,” He whispered, looking up at my face from his position below me. He was kneeling on one knee, with a hand planted firmly on the outside of my thigh. His voice was soft yet raspy, and oh how I let my mind wander.

“Not your fault,” I said quickly, and borderline ran out the door before he could protest or add anything on.

I headed straight to the bathroom to wash my face, try and stop the effect he had on me from becoming too physical.

If I got that worked up over a small piece of skin showing, nothing could have prepared me for the first night we shared a hotel room.

I was in shambles all night, ever since the moment Hotch handed me a room card and explained we needed to double up.

Emily usually roomed with JJ, Hotch and Rossi got their own, and Derek refuses to bunk with Spencer -- if he could avoid it. Much to my luck, this time he did because Garcia was needed for this case, meaning she and Derek would be sharing.

Leaving me with Spencer.

I stood there helpless, eyes burning a hole into the place that Hotch was previously standing. I was panicking on the inside, my body going into fight or flight mode as I went through scenarios in my head.

I was 99% sure I would be embarrassing myself tonight.

“Hey,” Spencer said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I jumped and shrieked a little bit, and slapped a hand over my heart. “Oh my god, Reid. You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he laughed. “Sorry I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay.”

He nodded, eventually realizing that he was still indeed touching my shoulder. He dropped his arm, only to bring his hand back up to rub over his chin.

My eyes darted down to it, watching at the way his veins stood out. It wasn’t the first time I admired them, there were moments when he was going over maps with two fingers where I wondered what they would feel like on my-

“____?”

“What?” I asked, a little too loud for the setting.

“Did you hear me?”

“No, sorry.”

“I said we should go inside,” he laughed softly, trying to sooth the tension.

I agreed, stepping past him to start walking to our room. I opened the door with trembling hands, wondering just how hard the following nights at the hotel would be.

“I’m gonna go see Emily and JJ. Ask if they wanna go to the bar,” I said quickly, throwing my bag down just inside the door.

“Oh. Okay. Have fun! Don’t stay out too late. You should get a full night’s sleep.”

“I won’t be long. Don’t wait up!” I called, not looking back to see him before half jogging out of the room.

-----

“I cannot go back in there.”

“Oh, because of your little crush,” Emily laughed, much too loud for the early hours of the morning.

Clearly Spencer’s advice about coming back early didn’t plant itself in my head.

“Yes, because of that,” I confirmed. I was staring down at my drink, wallowing in self pity. It was too awkward to even step foot in there, I’m sure just by the sight of him I’d explode.

“What is it about him that gets you hot and heavy?” JJ teased. “No shame, just curious.”

I fake laughed, ignoring her question.

Everything he did was so intoxicating. Even the most mundane things got my blood pumping hard. Each time he let a small gasp through his lips or when he would whisper to himself, a shockwave went through me, igniting a fire deep inside that was near impossible to put out.

But he was so oblivious. He hadn’t a single idea of the effect he had on me. And that was the most frustrating part.

The first time I noticed my extreme attraction to him was shortly after I joined the team, it was only the third or fourth case I’d had with them. Spencer and I walked to a coffee shop to grab some for everyone, and on the way back he was infodumping.

About what, I can’t remember, for I was too fixated on the way his hands wrapped around his cup as he talked. He’d wave it around, and in doing so his fingers would trace little patterns onto the outside of it. I didn't mean to stare, I just got distracted.

I started noticing more little things after that.

Like the way he licked his lips while deep in thought, his mind consuming him to the point where he looked so concentrated and determined. It was hot, to put it simply. I wanted nothing more for him to be licking my lips, to feel him take such care with my body.

He had always been attractive in my eyes, the young boy was nothing but pretty. Even when his hair was shorter and he gelled it back, pairing the look with his glasses -- that he unfortunately wore less often nowadays.

It was nearly painful to be around him all day every day. My head would constantly be spinning with anxiety, only causing more and more headaches to present themselves. It was like a punishment, one I certainly deserved for the tasteful thoughts I had during work hours.

My crush went from an innocent little thing, to full fledged fascination.

‘I just been fantasizin' (size)

And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

Avoiding him as much as I could seemed like a decent plan at the time. If I kept my interactions low, I could distract myself with other things, and not focus on the way his lips pursed as I conversed with him. I raced up more time staring at his mouth rather than completing actual work by my six month stay at the BAU.

“I’m so fucked,” I nodded, coming to a bit of peace with my downfall.

“Well, you could be. If you told him how you feel,” JJ encouraged.

“No way in hell,” I protested, shooting my head up to make eye contact with her.

“____, there is a very, very high chance he feels the same. And if he doesn’t -- which he does -- he’s too sweet to let that impact your friendship.”

“We hardly even have a friendship. Whenever he tries to talk to me I end up running away. He probably thinks I hate him or something. He probably wants nothing to do with me.”

No objection from Emily or JJ there.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Emily asked, changing the pace of the conversation.

“He never speaks to me again. I die of embarrassment.”

“You’re both adults, ____.”

“We are 27!” I shook my head, exasperated. “I hardly even feel like one sometimes.”

“27, exactly. I’m sure by now Reid has gained some experience with talking to women. You’ll be fine.”

“I have absolutely no way of knowing how things will go.”

“Just give him little tests,” JJ suggested. “Like touch him. On the shoulders, compliment him more, really go up to him and make a move. That way if he doesn’t feel the same you can play it off as being platonic.”

I groaned and rested my head on the table dramatically. “You both kinda suck at advice. What am I supposed to do? Waltz into our shared room and confess my love for him? Ask him desperately to dick me down?”

Even though I definitely wanted to.

They laughed at that, saying they were going to bed and wished me luck. Emily advised I should try and ‘get some’ from somebody else, and maybe that would take my mind off of things.

After stalling some more I eventually made my way back to the hotel room, hoping that Spencer was already asleep so I wouldn’t have to face him. But once again, luck wasn’t in my favour.

“Hi,” he spoke softly from his bed.

“Why are you still awake?” I asked, trying my best to stifle a yawn. I threw my sweater down on my bed, before grabbing my go-bag and retrieving my pyjamas from it. “It’s almost one in the morning.”

“I wanted to make sure you got back okay.”

“I told you not to wait up. Naughty boy,” I joked, finally turning my attention fully over to him.

Which could've been a mistake, based on the way you saw it.

He was dressed in flannel pants and a black t-shirt, along with his hair tied up that I’d failed to notice earlier. I froze at the sight, seeing the way his cheeks were dusted a slight red, and lips pink as ever.

His hair was tied up, and I almost dropped dead at the sight. I’d never seen it before. Sure, he sometimes wore an elastic band on his wrist during the work days but never have I seen him actually use one.

“I’m gonna shower and then head to bed,” I said in an effort to keep my voice steady.

He didn’t respond, only turning his head back to the book that was in his hand.

Thankfully when I returned he was asleep, meaning I didn’t have to see him before bed.

The next day was torturous. I couldn’t get the image of him out of my head. The view of him so relaxed on his bed was ethereal, the soft glow of the lamp hand illuminated his skin in all the right places. Did he pull his hair back often? Did he casually sit at home with it up? How did he look in different angles or positions? Are there other things he wears or does that I haven’t seen?

The image was just so domestic that I couldn't stop thinking about it even if I wanted to.

I was afraid to fall asleep, in fear that my dream may turn adventurous. Quitting my job and moving to a new city seems more preferable than having a sex dream about your coworker while they were in the room.

I was hyper aware of every move he made, always keeping tabs on him in the back of my mind so we wouldn’t accidentally run into each other.

Apparently when I was paying attention on how not to see him, I failed to notice how he had filled out recently. He wore looser pants in the past, ones that didn’t allow much shape to show through.

The next day at the precinct I was in for a surprise though, one that was sure to make me fall to my knees.

And I would have, if it wasn’t for the fact I was already seated in a chair.

Spencer walked in clad in pants that were far too tight to be appropriate for work. Or maybe I was overreacting.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered under my breath, soaking in his appearance of the day.

It was hot outside, so he decided not to wear his usual vest and tie combo, choosing instead just a white pattern button up and grey tie.

I heard Emily snicker beside me, which earned her a light kick in the calf to shut her up. She got up then, winking at me dramatically before leaving the room to presumably go check in with Derek.

“Hey ____, can you come here for a sec?”

I got up without a word, and walked over to the other side of the room where he was standing at the map hung up.

He went off about the unsub’s possible comfort zone -- things that I’d need him to repeat later because I wasn’t fully listening,

I stayed leaning against the table, just two feet behind him which gave me a perfect view of just how tight those pants really were. They hugged his hips deliciously, I wanted nothing more than to rip them off in that moment. I nodded along dumbly, changing my sight from his ass to his back, to his toned arms that were shown off from him rolling up his sleeves.

It was a fair sight, I don’t really think I could be blamed for staring.

A few weeks after that he got a haircut. His longer curls were gone -- yet not forgotten -- and were replaced with a mop of messy waves that framed his face perfectly.

It was like a new blow to my stomach every time I got used to the change.

“New haircut?” I asked the obvious on the first day back from a long weekend.

“Yeah...thought I should change it up,” Spencer replied, picking up his coffee mug to make himself a cup.

I nodded, the room settling in a short silence.

“Do you not like it?”

“No!” I exclaimed, Spencer furrowing his brows in response. “I mean, yes. I do like it. Sorry.”

“Oh, okay,” he laughed. “Thank you.”

“You could pull off any hairstyle, trust me,” I said, before walking back to my desk.

People that we met seemed to feel the same, because he got stopped more often at bars and at shops that were needed to visit. People would give him their numbers, leaving him a blushing mess. It got obnoxious, to the point where I was at my breaking point. My shoulders were always slumped, and my forehead creased with jealousy.

I stayed closer to him when the team went out, in an effort to get other girls to stop making moves on him.

They hadn’t noticed his beauty before, why should they get the privilege to advance on him now?

It was selfish, really. It may have been good for his self-confidence, but not so good for my own feelings.

I made sure to compliment him more often, telling him I liked his sweater vests, and ‘oh my Doctor Reid, is that a new tie?’ It was a win-win really, for both of us. I was building up my comfort level with him, and he knew that I did not, in fact, despise him.

When Spencer got shot on a case a few weeks later, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to show him that I care about him.

It was an easy job, since the bullet only semi-grazed his shoulder blade. Only needed deep cleaning once a night, for a few weeks so it wouldn’t get infected.

“Fuck,” he breathed with a groan, one that sent shivers throughout my veins.

“Sorry,” I answered quickly, keeping my gaze on the task at hand and not on his face that was just so close to mine.

Here I was in Spencer’s apartment, in his bathroom, helping him clean off his wound.

“I’m sorry but you need to stop moving, it’s just making things worse,” I explained.

“It hurts!”

“I’m sure it does! But I can’t do an effective job in cleaning it if you keep thrashing around like that.”

I saw him pout, and lower his head. The gears in his brain were turning, trying to come up with a possible solution.

“You’re going to need to hold me down.”

“What?!”

“I’m not gonna be able to stop moving,” he said, looking over his shoulder to where I was sitting behind him on the floor. “Come on.”

He stood up and left the room, gesturing for me to follow. And I did, collecting the supplies I’d need as he led me over to his living room.

Before I could protest he removed his shirt fully -- not like how it was bunched up by his neck previously.

I stopped in my tracks, eyes taking in every inch of skin that he freed. He was lean, as I predicted, but still toned in areas.

Spencer laid on his stomach down on the couch, motioning for me to come beside him.

“Get on my back.”

“Are you insane?”

“____,” he pleaded, looking up at me. His arms were crossed by his head, he was using them as a makeshift pillow. “I just want this to be over as fast as it can be.”

Right.

“Okay,” I agreed, and began to place my materials down on the coffee table to my right. I then swung a leg over his lower back, straddling him just how I’d imagine doing so before -- only the other way around. “Is this okay?”

He hummed, digging his face as far into the fabric of the couch as he could.

‘I got a lotta new tricks for you, baby

Just sayin' I'm flexible (I will)’

I took that as a yes, and poured some of the disinfectant onto a swab. Bracing myself with a hand on his other shoulder to pin him down firmly he shivered, breath shaking ever so slightly. I tried to catch him off guard with the swab, choosing a random time to press it into his wound.

He was definitely surprised, because he whined loudly into his hands and clenched all of the muscles in his back.

I couldn’t help but wonder if he made similar noises during other activities…

“Just a minute more,” I soothed him, running my free hand over the smooth skin of his back, doing my best to calm him down.

His breathing only became heavier, and was nearly shaking from the burn. I felt bad, having to see him go through this but I’d be lying if it wasn’t doing things to me. I couldn’t help but get a little bit excited when I got the chance to be near him, to be closer than we had ever been before.

It was intense, I was almost sure he could feel my arousal through the fabric of my pants and underwear.

I was an awful person.

Going home that night to sleep was a struggle. I felt guilty, for using his pain for my perverse temptations. Yet as soon as my fingers were buried inside myself I couldn’t stop myself from imagining him above me. The way he might sound, spewing out similar noises that I’d experienced earlier that were still fresh in my brain.

I wasn’t proud of it, and I thought every one of our interactions after that would be even harder.

Going back to work seemed fully impossible, I didn’t have any hope in myself to stay useful while he was parading around, completely oblivious to the effect he had on me. I became more sexually frustrated every day. It was nearly infuriating to see a look of innocence plastered on his face, meanwhile he would do things that made me go crazy.

‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

“Penelope, I think I might die soon if I don’t get laid,” I said, rapidly opening the door to her cave.

“____-”

“No, I’m serious. I can’t get my mind off of-”

I stopped in my tracks, finally noticing the presence I hadn’t already accounted for.

Spencer sat in a chair to my left, just out of view that you couldn’t see him if you didn’t turn your head. He was in the middle of bringing a chip up to his mouth, but was stopped mid-air with his mouth hanging open.

“Sorry,” he said, scrambling up fast, bumping into things as he collected his satchel with shaky hands. “Sorry I’ll go.”

The door shut with a slam, and left Penelope and I in silence.

“Well, fuck,” I whispered, earning a booming laugh from her. “It’s not funny.”

“It is funny. It’s hilarious,” she giggled, doing a little spin on her chair.

I groaned, and sat down beside her on the edge of her desk.

“Maybe now he’ll make a move on you.”

“Oh shut up,” I slapped her arm, beginning to laugh along with her. “If he was avoiding me before, I’m sure he’ll never speak to me again.”

Ever since I helped Spencer with his injury the first time he’d been semi ignoring me, not trying to actively partake in conversation. We only talked when necessary, but didn’t exchange any extra words when I came over for an hour to help him with his wound.

I was almost happy about that, it meant I didn’t have to embarrassingly throw myself at him all day long.

I was perfectly fine admiring him from a distance, just how I’d done so for years.

However, there was a part of me that was rightfully sad. Did I cross a line, or make him feel uncomfortable? Maybe from spending so much time together recently he gathered I really wasn’t that interesting.

“Don’t say that,” Penelope frowned.

“Why not? It’s the truth,” I shrugged.

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”

“How I feel?”

“Don’t even try and wedge your way out of it. Emily told me, don’t be mad,” she said, with the sweetest look on her face that I couldn’t be upset.

“Bitch,” I playfully mumbled.

“Besides you literally were about to say that you can’t get your mind off of him.”

“Uh, no, I was not. I was going to say someone. A general someone. Not Reid.”

She hummed, turning back to her screen to finish up some work Hotch had sent her to do.

“Okay fine. Pen, I’m gonna die. It’s insufferable. I can’t handle it anymore.”

“That’s exactly why you should tell him!” She encouraged excitedly, always a swooner for young love.

“I would scare him. He’s probably scared of me, actually.”

“Oh come on, I’m sure his little virgin heart can take it.”

“What?” I asked, suddenly giving her all my attention. “Virgin? Is he seriously a virgin?”

“I don’t know, truly. I just kinda figured. He doesn’t talk about anyone or anything to do with sex.”

I nodded. That makes sense. With him radiating pure sex appeal in my eyes, the thought never even crossed my mind that he might be a virgin.

But that just made it all the more exciting.

“But hey, if he’s really a 27 year old virgin I’m sure he’s extremely horny,” she laughed.

“We are at work. Let’s calm it down before I actually combust,” I shook my head.

My palms were sweating at the very thought of him doing anything remotely sexual -- which I thought about a lot. Surely he’s had to at least...taken care of himself. I’m sure it was a gorgeous sight, his hand wrapped firmly around his dick and face contorted in nothing but pleasure.

My thoughts were interrupted by none other than the man himself, who barged into the room to say we were taking off for a case in 30.

The flight there was quiet and boring, we left at night so there wasn’t so much we could do when we got there besides head up to our hotel.

“We’re sharing a room,” Spencer said, walking over to me from where he was previously with Derek.

I was standing in front of the vending machine, doing my very best to not eavesdrop on the mens’ conversation, which was only taking place about 20 feet away. Spencer was speaking in a hushed yet agitated tone, and Derek was matching his energy. It seemed they were bickering, but about what I didn’t know.

“Says who?” I panicked.

“Uhh...Hotch did.”

Great.

“Oh. Alright,” I followed him down the hallway, our room was the last one at the end.

I waited for him to open the door, and when he stepped out of the way to let me inside I brushed past him.

When I turned around Spencer was standing there blocking my path, causing me to bump into his chest.

“Hello...” I said confused, taking a step back.

“I…”

“What?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. “Spencer what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer with words, instead reaching up to push a piece of hair out of my face. My breath hitched at the contact, sending me into a short frenzy on the inside. He was inching closer, now his body was getting just close enough so that I could feel the heat radiating off of him. He was glancing back and forth between my eyes, searching my face for an expression of discomfort.

He didn’t find any.

“I was talking with Derek. About you,” he whispered. “He said you’ve been coming on to me.”

My heart nearly missed a beat at his words.

“I've noticed your odd behaviour, you don’t act the way you do with anyone else on the team. You run away from me, and at first I thought you just didn’t like me, but now...I think it’s the opposite. I see the way you look at me, you know.”

“And how do I look at you?” I questioned nervously.

“Like you want me. Tell me. Who were you talking about earlier today? Who exactly can’t get your mind off of?”

I paused, eyes almost bulging out of my head at the implication.

“If I'm reading this wrong, let me know. We can pretend this never happened.”

“Get on the bed and take your clothes off.”

He did just that, moving beside me to shove his pants down his legs, followed by ripping off his shirt, as I did the same. We couldn’t take our eyes off of each other, too busy drinking in our appearances to think straight. He sat down on the edge of the bed in just his underwear, and spread his legs just wide enough to give me space to stand between them.

“Tell me what you want.” he breathed, watching me as I walked towards him.

“You,” I answered simply, climbing into his lap and connecting my mouth was his. “All of you.”

He didn’t protest, only doing quite the opposite. He moaned greedily into my mouth, sucking every last bit of life out of me. He was hungry in his movements, not allowing for a single beat of fresh air for either of us. I was more than happy to return the energy, for I’ve dreamt for too long about what he might taste like. And it wasn’t disappointing, the sensation was far better than I could have ever cooked up in my head.

After a minute he became impatient, and started bucking his hips up to meet mine. I did the same, grinding down on his hardening dick that felt...impressive to say the least.

“I’ve thought about you for so long,” I spoke against his lips, taking a break between kisses.

He groaned back at me, moving his hands from my cheeks down to my hips to hold me flush against himself. He whimpered when I was fully against him, he had to break away to keep his breathing somewhat managed.

“Please, I need you so bad. I’ve thought about you too.”

“What exactly did you think about?” I asked quietly, trailing kisses all across his face, and then started heading down his jaw and neck.

“L-lots of stuff.”

“Tell me,” I demanded, looking up at him from my new position kneeling on the floor. “Please, tell me.”

I brought a hand up to his boxers, ghosting just over his bulge while remaining eye contact.

“Everything. All of you. ____, Please.”

‘You're exciting, boy, come find me

Your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me"’

“Let me do something first,” I said, pushing against his stomach to encourage him to lie back on the bed. He did so, propping himself up on his forearms to look down at me.

He watched my every move, not a second was missed by his eyes that stayed locked onto my form. I dropped my head down to kiss across his left thigh, and toyed with the waistband of his underwear with my right hand.

He was so vocal, and I hadn’t even done anything yet. I knew we had all night, but I’d waited too long for this to take my time.

‘And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

I pulled his underwear down just enough to reveal his dick hard and red as it stood up against his stomach.

“You don’t...have to,” Spencer stopped me before I could carry on.

“Do you not want me to?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s just…” He stopped, and bit his lip while staring off to one of the walls.

“Has anyone ever done this with you before?” I asked, almost unsure of whether or not I wanted the answer.

“Done what...exactly?” he asked, refusing to look back at me. His cheeks were red in embarrassment, and he was too focused on the distance to see the wave of excitement that flashed over my face.

“Spencer,” I said sharply, prompting him to turn his attention back to me. “Are you a virgin?”

His lack of answer told me enough. He blushed impossibly deeper, and started squirming in place. Just as he was about to speak up for himself I stopped him with, “That’s so fucking hot.”

“What?”

I climbed back up his body, just far enough so that I could grab his jaw in my hand and pull him down to meet my lips. It was even more hungry and passionate than the previous ones we shared, full of such fire I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to kiss anyone else ever again.

“You’re so sexy,” I moaned, hot and needy into his mouth.

He was good, which wasn’t unexpected from my end. His lips were always so plump and pink, they just had to be semi skilled.

“Thank you,” he replied, in a typical Spencer Reid fashion.

“Do you want to stop? Or keep going? Take a minute and think about it. I don’t want to pressure you,” I reassured him, but on the inside I was begging for him to want to continue.

He pulled back for a second, running a hand over the back of my head to keep me from going too far. His eyes were closed, focusing only on his breathing as he thought about his answer.

“I want to keep going. Please,” he decided on, nodding his head. “I just, I dunno, didn’t expect to get this far tonight.”

“Believe me, neither did I,” I smirked, smashing my lips back against his and returning to my spot kneeling between his legs. I pushed him back harder than before, sending a small oof sound from his chest as his back hit the mattress.

“Has anyone ever touched you here?” I asked, finally wrapping my hand around his dick,

It only made sense that a pretty boy like him would have a pretty cock, too.

“O-only once,” he breathed, with his head thrown back. He was staring at the ceiling, staring at the dots to distract himself from the feeling and to not come too soon. “Long time ago.”

“If you need me to stop, tell me,” I said, before licking a broad strip up the underside of his dick.

I paused at the head, swirling my tongue around before continuing my mission back down around the other side. I kissed his base, leaving more near his hips. He whined positively -- probably feeling a little ticklish -- and I took that as a good sign to suck a deep purple mark there.

Just like I’d thought about doing months ago.

I left a few more just up to his belly button, marking him up with the intent to claim him as my own. He’d see those marks for the next few days, and every time he would think of me on my knees for him. I kept pumping him in my hand as I did so, and every time I groaned into his skin his dick twitched with appreciation.

“Oh god,” Spencer moaned as I took him into my mouth unexpectedly, bunching up the sheets in his hands beside his hips.

I looked up to see him now staring down at me, jaw slacked and panting heavily. The sight was enough to elicit a moan from my own mouth, which led to him fluttering his eyes shut at the vibrations that shot through his body.

“Stop, stop!”

“What’s wrong?” I asked worriedly, immediately pulling up.

“Nothing, I just really want to feel you and I don’t think I can last much longer.”

Understandable.

I wasn’t expecting him to last long anyways, I just simply wanted him inside me.

“Do you happen to have a condom?” He shook his head. “I’m clean and on the pill. We should be fine. Is that okay?”

He mumbled an ‘uh huh’ as he watched me stand up, as I pushed my underwear down my legs. He immediately reached out to me, bringing me back in and starting placing kisses across my stomach and hips, mirroring what I was doing to him earlier.

“Good, because if you don’t fuck me right now I think I might die.”

‘Yeah-yeah, oh-whoa-whoa (oh, ooh, mmm)

Baby, I need to know, mmm (yeah, need to know)’

He laughed lightheartedly, fixing himself to be sitting up near the headboard. In the process he kicked off his boxers fully, along with his socks.

I followed after him, not letting him stray too far from my reach.

“I heard that women take longer to, erm, get ready,” he muttered into my skin, hiding his face in my neck. “Let me help you?”

“Please,” I whimpered, though I knew I was far from unprepared. I reached behind myself to unclasp my bra, and as soon as it fell down my shoulders Spencer attached his mouth to my left nipple. “Please touch me.”

He moaned into me, bringing his hand down to my core to run his fingers through my folds. He let his middle breach me, moving so agonizingly slow before curling his finger up. I moaned loudly, letting my eyes shut and body fall slack against him. His free arm wrapped around my waist, giving me the support I needed to stay upright.

“So that’s your g-spot?” He grinned against my skin, and I’d be damned to admit it affected me way more than it should have. He sounded so innocent, so eager to learn.

“Uh-huh.”

He explored my skin greedily, brushing over every inch of my chest he could reach. His thrusts became faster every time he re-entered me, encouraged by the grunt that fell from my lips with each one.

“Have you ever done this with a girl before?”

“No,” he replied, moving from my breasts to my collarbone, leaving a dark purple mark in his path.

“Could've fooled me,” I felt him smile against my neck at the praise -- duly noted.

He flipped us over swiftly -- much to my surprise -- and continued with his actions on both my clit and entrance. I did my best to stay quiet, biting down on his shoulder to prevent any noises from leaking out to stop him from getting too cocky.

“Spencer,” I moaned, raking my fingernails up and down his back. “Stop. Please fuck me now, I’m ready.”

“Are you sure you want to? We can stop,” he reassured me in a voice that seemed far too innocent for the activities taking place.

“Spencer, I’m sure. I’m so fucking sure you have no idea.”

I was so turned on I could cry, the pure want running through my veins was starting to send panic signals throughout my whole body. Before I could beg him any further he replaced his fingers with his dick, catching me off guard. He ran the tip over me for a few seconds before gliding in easily, with little to no restriction at all.

“Ah!” I called, gripping onto his shoulder for dear life.

“I’m so sorry, oh my god did I hurt you?” Spencer asked frantically, removing his weight from me and tried sitting up.

“No. God please move, I need you so bad,” I pleaded, pulling him back down before he could get too far away.

He nodded. He started slow. So slowly that I wanted to scream and beg at the top of my lungs for more. However I was above giving him the satisfaction of that -- at least for now.

“You feel so good,” Spencer panted, hips shaking as he slid in and out at a torturous pace.

I pulled his lips back to mine for another kiss, drinking in everything he was willing to offer. I whined every time his body rubbed against my clit in a way that had my toes curling and eyes rolling back.

“This is so much better than I’ve imagined,” I moaned, breaking free from his mouth to lay back against the pillows. I wrapped my legs around his waist, aiding him with the speed of his thrusts. “Please, Spence, oh my god go harder.”

He moaned loudly, and lowered his head to my collarbone in an effort to muffle some of the noises he was letting out.

He followed my directions well -- and I took notes for the future.

The sounds of him bouncing off the walls was amplifying my pleasure to a new degree, it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. His hips snapped forward impossibly faster, leaving him a whimpering mess above me. Our chests were pressed together, the sound of skin slapping and gliding over each other filled the dimly lit room.

“You’re doing so good for me,” I whispered into his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses here and there.

He moaned freely at all of the praise, and every time I urged him on he’d pick up his speed a little bit. He was now moving faster than I thought I could handle, slamming into me at the perfect angle.

I felt him everywhere. In my stomach, insides of my thighs, chest -- where he was now palming at one of my breasts -- and the crook of my neck. I hugged my arms around his middle to keep him locked against me, preventing his hips from heavily backing out.

“I’m really close,” He groaned, lifting his head to meet my eyes. “S-should I pull out now?”

“No,” I demanded, tightening my legs to keep him trapped. “Come inside me.”

He nodded with a particularly loud moan, and snaked one hand down my body to meet my clit. When I gave a sound of approval he quickened his wrist, rubbing me with just the right amount of pressure to send me closer to the edge.

He came with a final shout in my name, resting his full body weight against me as I rocked my him against him to help him through it. I finished soon after, at the feeling of him releasing himself in me. It was so warm, like a comforting blanket that overtook all of my senses.

It was possibly the best orgasm I’d ever had, it was so profound that I couldn’t see, or focus on anything else.

We laid there for a few minutes, my hand running through his hair and his ghosting up the side of my hip. It took a while for us both to catch our breaths, we were too immersed in the moment to break apart from one another.

“That was literally the best sex I’ve had in my life,” I breathed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Same, but I don’t have anything to compare it to,” Spencer replied, and we both laughed weakly.

“That was okay for you? Your first time? Not really the traditional approach.”

“It was perfect. I wouldn’t have asked for anything different,” he pulled himself up with a smile, before pulling out and flopping down beside me.

“But seriously,” I sat up, resting my head on my palm to get a better view of him. “I’ve never been so attracted to someone as I am with you.”

“____,” he blushed. “I-”

“No! No, let me finish. Please.”

He nodded for me to go ahead.

“Not only are you just insanely sweet and so charming, you’re so handsome. Like I can hardly even look at you half the time. You drive me insane, Spencer you have no idea. Holy fuck I’ve never wanted someone so bad before I met you. You’re intoxicating. I can’t get enough. I’ll cringe about this later but I just need you to know.”

“This may not be the most common way...but do you want to go out with me? L-like on a date?” Spencer asked. He was blushing so heavily, his chest was painted pink and ears were turned red.

“You just came inside of me and you’re nervous about asking me on a date.”

“____!” Spencer exclaimed, facepalming himself.

“Yes,” I grinned. “I’d love to go out with you.”

-----

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verse50 · 3 years

Text

Heat

It was the first weekend over 80F and we took full advantage of it on our six acres. Friday night we let the kids loose on the rock pile, loading up the trailer for the dump, then packed them off early Saturday for soccer camp. All morning he bush-hogged the treeline while I wrestled the sunken raised beds into shape. This house had been so neglected when we bought it two years ago. Finally we had the time and money to make it nice again.

I was pulling weeds when he tromped out in chaps and ear protection. Chainsaw hanging from his belt. That and the sweaty dirt on his face made me look a bit longer.

“I’m gonna saw up that alder and then get to the stairs,” he half shouted. Bush hogging will do that to you. He grinned and took out his ear plugs. “The beds are coming along, maybe-” I was on my knees and gazed up at him quizzically.

“You’re not wearing a bra,” he said, at the perfect angle to peer down my shirt.

“Nope!” I agreed, and swung myself back and forth. It looked and felt like two water balloons bumping in a pillowcase. Then stuck out my tongue.

His mouth set. “I gotta get the stairs done today.” Then he was gone into the brush, chainsaw revving. I bent down again to the weeds, trying to drown my frustration with deep breaths.

He was so hard to read. I was a free spirit, a spitfire, and he was a calm, methodical engineer with a heart of gold. There was no better man on the planet, I was convinced, but gosh sex was tough with him! It took him so long to adjust to change. A toe ring. The tiniest gold nose ring. A tattoo on my ankle. Introducing him to my vibrator. I had to pace everything at six month intervals or it was too much.

But once he got used to it...holy fucking shit. He basically dissected that vibrator and and studied the user manual. Found similar ones, tested them on me like I was a guinea pig. Even took me to a toy store in Dallas then fucked the daylights out of me until 3am. And then...it all petered out like a spent firework. I would try to keep the energy going, keep him interested, but I could never tell what worked. He was pretty shy about sex, almost embarrassed. He wasn’t comfortable with dirty talk. We couldn’t really sext because his job required cellphones be lockered except at lunch. We could go months on once a week then he would surprise me with a two day fuckfest, like a volcano erupting. I lived for those times but could never figure out how to make them happen more often. All it did was make me ramp up with excitement, feel more free, then try to cram myself in a box again. He was such a good man, though. I just needed to be more patient, less wild. I ripped up the weeds angrily.

The sun was high when he came in for lunch. I had sandwiches, chips, and his favorite tea ready. There was even more dirt on his face and I sat there awkwardly, trying to equate my silent chip-crunching husband with the dirty woodsman I wanted to pounce on.

“I think I’ll build out the landing a bit from the stairs, maybe put in a new handrail,” he said. I sipped my tea and nodded. “The driveway could use some gravel.”

“The trailer has all the rocks in it still,” I pointed out.

“Mmm. I’ll go to the dump first, then hit Home Depot and Brother’s Fieldstone.” He looked at me as if I had just appeared at the table. “You’re wearing a bra now.”

“Uh-huh.” I cut off a smart-ass retort and became very busy fishing pickles from their jar. “I’m gonna work on the petunia baskets.”

After the peck on my cheek he would be gone for at least two hours. I ripped off my bra, blasted Slayer on my bluetooth speaker, and delved into the hanging baskets. By the time I had repotted everything and cleaned up the cobwebby lounge chairs I was a filthy mess. Shower time.

You couldn’t see our house from the road. I went out on the deck in just a towel, then threw it off and lay naked on a chair, basking like a lizard. Big fluffy clouds blocked the sun momentarily, then shooed away when I spread my legs wide. Everything needed to dry. My hair would need a serious flatiron session. Idly I thought of him coming out of the forest...rushing home...making a beeline for me...a naked woman tanning herself alone...so easy to take advantage...helpless...but there was a shotgun behind the door...

Damn it, I thought. Can’t even have a fantasy and it gets all practical. He’s wearing off on me. I looked at my phone. About 30 minutes of naked freedom left- I should water the baskets again. I picked up the hose and my phone rang.

“Hey baby,” I said, working up the cheerful wife tone. He really was wonderful. I just needed to...not need so much.

“Baby, guess how much the lumber cost for the deck, right now?”

I thought for a minute. It has been awhile since we did a major project. “Um, I think we did the brown house for under $600?”

“Yeah, well, I priced it all out. It’s gonna be over $2000! We can’t swing that now. It’s insane, the prices. Never seen anything like it. And Brother’s is out of pea gravel!” He was worked up. This man stuck to budgets religiously.

“O my God! No, you’re right. We can’t do that now. The deck will be fine for awhile, definitely. It’s sturdy at least.” The sun was so hot on my back. I stared at my shadow, waving the limp hose to and fro.

“So I emptied the trailer and uh, checked everything out. Since we can’t do anything more on that today I, um....” he coughed. I waited, cautiously easing on the water. “I went to that new little toy store in the strip mall.”

Water spurted out onto my shadow. “I see. What kind of toys?”

“The only kind!” His voice rose. The hose engorged and gurgled. “I found one like your pink one, you know that does the swirly thing, too? But this seems to be a softer material, a better grade of silicone, I think this company merged with a big distributor and, uh...”

My mouth twisted. It was just like him to get carried away on technical aspects. “That’s so sweet, baby. What are you wanting to do with that?”

“I want to use it on you.” He was almost whispering, as if there were seven other people in his F-250. “Like Dallas.” It was such a distant memory. I couldn’t work myself all up again, it was too exhausting. But he went to the store, my dear husband...he wants something.

“You can do whatever you want to me, baby,” I said sincerely. “Just come home and we can hang out the rest of the day.”

“I don’t want to hang out. I want- I want you to not wear a bra again. I don’t want you to feel, uh, like you have to put it back on? Around me?”

I aimed the water where my shadow’s pussy would be. Cool drops sprayed up onto my flushed skin.

“I’m not wearing a bra right now.”

“What?”

“I’m naked out on the deck. Been tanning after I took a shower.”

Silence. He was gunning the truck, I could hear the roar.

“I hope you’re bringing some wood home for me.” VVVBBBBRBbbbbRRRRrr.

“Baby, if you can just let me plan stuff. It’s easier for me. I’m sorry I’m slow and I disappoint you. I wanted to tear your shirt off there but I’m just never sure...I don’t want to do anything you don’t like, I don’t want to hurt you- really- just let me plan sometimes and maybe try to go along? I promise I’ll do better, you are so sexy-” sfhkhfffffppp. His phone cut out. I stood there, dumb, watching the water drip my shadow off the edge of the deck. He had never talked to me so much at one time. “-if I can plan and know in advance that you like it we can do more, you drive me crazy you know that, right?”

I took a deep breath. My legs were shaking into the damp, hot wood. “How do you want me to be, when you get home?”

Pause. More gunning. “On the deck chair, doggy. Ass in the air. Wait- I need to shower first.”

“No, you don’t. You’re sexy with the dirt on you. I love it.”

“You do?”

“Yes, I love my sexy, dirty husband.”

“Ok.” He was firm. The blinker was on, he was at the intersection ten minutes away. “Ass up, doggy. Hands by your side. Face turned away from the stairs. I don’t want you to see me. I have-have- a special delivery.”

I turned off the water. The whole deck was soaked. Not one basket had gotten a drop. “Ass up ready to receive. I’ll be waiting for you, baby.” I was so excited my words came out slowly, bouncing through a lump in my throat. The sun was cold and hot at the same time.

“If you respond well there will be future appointments.” His voice was full of confidence before the phone shut off.

I almost tripped on my way over to the lounge chair. Fortunately my towel was there in case things got really wet.

Thank you to @daily-esprit-descalier for sharing the photo that inspired this story.

Linktree

#verse50original #relationships #nature #writersontumblr #married

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edwardelricsrightarm · 3 years

Text

"A lesson without pain is meaningless. For you cannot gain anything without sacrificing something else in return, but once you have overcome it and made it your own...you will gain an irreplaceable fullmetal heart." - Edward Elric

In honor of disability month and the FMA 20 year anniversary I wanted to address some Thoughts™️ about the series.

It's not often you see a disabled protagonist in media where their disability is integral to the story without taking up their entire character, even more so with anime. Yet, Fullmetal Alchemist has not just one disabled Protagonist, but two. The Elric Brothers are an exemplary representation of disability in media that I find myself reflecting on often as a disabled person myself. If you haven't completed the manga or Brotherhood, skip this as it will be brimming with spoilers.

(Mangahood will be my point of reference because while 03 is good on its own merits it's not as fresh within my immediate memory, and I am far less familiar with it. Keep this in mind, I've watched FMAB 10 and a half times whereas I've finished 03 only once years ago.)

The story highlights their disabilities immediately, Edward being a double amputee and Alphonse being without his ENTIRE body, only having the senses of proprioception, sight, and hearing left. Yet, despite this being key to the story and an integral part of their characterization, it is only one facet of their motivations and doesn't take center in the narrative, which is refreshing. It's not inherently negative to make a narrative centered on the characters' disabilities, but often this model of a story goes very wrong very fast and starts to feel hollow (no pun intended). FMA avoids this by making their disabilities a clear part of the plot and their motivations without allowing it to consume the entire story, so the Elric Brothers don't suffer the "my disability is all of my character" problem that many disabled characters are relegated to in a vast portion of media, all while being strong and competent.

Recap:

The brothers wished to revive their mother, but their good intentions cannot change the atrocity of their mistake, Truth makes this abundantly clear from the start. Edward loses his leg first, a punishment for "stepping" into God's shoes and transgressing the place of humans in their world. Alphonse loses his entire body, unable to feel any warmth or simple comforts like food and rest, when all he wanted was to feel the warmth and comfort of his mother's embrace again. At first, Alphonse's entire being is consumed by the gate, but Edward acts immediately, refusing to lose his little brother and refusing to allow his arrogance in this plan to cause his brother's death for only following his lead. Edward gives his right arm to have the gate give back Alphonse's soul, and stated clearly in his panic that he'd give his entire self to save Alphonse if that's what it would take, but Truth took his dominant arm only, showing something akin to mercy, although the character of Truth is capriciously strict and hard to describe as "merciful".

Through giving up his right arm, Edward regains his Right Hand Man, his little brother and best friend. His only remaining family, who he feels responsible for protecting in the absence of their parents. He felt immediately that he'd made a grave mistake, instantly full of regret as he realized the gate had taken his brother. In that moment he was willing to give anything to take it back and undo the suffering his arrogance caused his brother, yet Alphonse was still to suffer more to come. Ed tied Alphonse's disembodied soul to one of Hohenheim's collected suits of armor, managing to at least keep his brother alive in some way. One could say that Alphonse's punishment functioned as a secondary punishment for Edward, showing him how easily his hubris could have cost him what he has left in his obsession with regaining what they'd lost, their mother. A very clear symbolic reminder of the weight of his actions and how he'd misled his brother in his own naive ignorance. Even in giving another limb away to drag his brother's soul back out of the gate, he couldn't offer enough to bring him back intact. Thus is the law of equivalent exchange.

Now that we've reviewed some of that basic symbolism and the motifs the story draws upon with limbs and body parts in relation to characters, let's move on to each individual brother and break it down, shall we?

Edward Elric is a very realistic protagonist, this is one thing a majority of us familiar with this series can agree upon. He feels like a believable teen boy, with layers of complexity to his character while also showing arrogance and immaturity that is unsurprising at his age. He expresses unwillingness to kill and avoidance of unjust violence from the beginning, and has a strong moral code after the ordeal of committing the taboo.

In some characters his cocky personality would typically become grating, yet the story explains in itself why he is this way, then builds upon this to develop him into an incredibly mature character who is willing to admit when he's absolutely wrong and adapts to new information and context for the crisis unfolding around him as it comes, even if he remains crass. This arrogance is shown from the start to be a manifestation of insecurity, self loathing, and repressed guilt. Edward is a logic driven person, he has a very unique thought process, which is where my interpretation of him as autistic comes in. Edward's awkward social demeanor, somewhat abrasive and cold approach to some, and his trouble coping with nonsensical societal structures all stand out in this way. Furthermore he clearly shows hyperfixation, hyperactivity, special interest, and infodumping behaviors that are all too familiar. He's picky with food (*cough* the milk thing), has very little filter and speaks his mind bluntly even if this can warrant conflicting responses, yet at the same time struggles with vulnerable emotions, and he is frustrated when his own routine or itinerary are interrupted by forces beyond his control. All of these things Scream autism with comorbid ADHD. Many traits are shared between the brothers, and I'm quite certain they're both on the autism spectrum based on behavioral patterns. Neurodivergence aside, Edward's physical disabilities are undeniable.

Despite his bratty persona, Edward is fundamentally kind and uncharacteristically gentle and soft around the edges for a shonen protagonist in many ways. He cries openly on many occasions even if he struggles talking about his trauma and burdens in words at times, he feels pain, grief, and compassion so intensely it throws him into action on a regular basis in the narrative. In this way he's also a fantastic example of non-toxic masculinity (though in other ways he has displayed more toxic traits, he's just a kid). He acts on his heart, even if he's led by his mind and logic in most things. His humanity, value for life, and care for others will always win over his logic, and he shows a sense of personal responsibility for doing the right thing even if it harms him in the process. Ed is clearly shown having ghost pains in his lost limbs which is honestly an interesting detail to include, I don't think I've ever seen that aspect of amputation shown in media aside from FMA. It's also shown that when Ed's automail arm breaks this is a HUGE problem for him, but he's also shown to be very good at working around this in difficult circumstances. He doesn't become completely helpless, even if majorly weakened.

Alphonse is an extremely lovable and compassionate boy, brimming with altruism and care for others. Even in his noncorporeal state he pursues a better future and he's not helpless by any stretch. Edward clearly states Alphonse is the superior fighter for example, and it's not just because of his armor body being so large. He's *talented*, that's a fact. Al is every bit as clever and capable as Ed, moreso in some ways, and I love that about his character *because* he's so clearly disabled. He has no sense of pain, he is completely incapable of sleeping, he can't eat, can't relax or find comfort, he can only exist and think. This causes him to overthink in all his time alone, this is debilitating. He clearly is absolutely sick of the loneliness this causes, and he often feels helpless though he's not. He has doubts and fears that consume him in relation to his armor body, he questions his own personhood, even. Yet, Edward is stubborn and staunch in affirming that no matter what he's dealing with, he is fundamentally still a human being that is loved and irreplaceable. Alphonse is powerful and his body gives him some advantages, but it also sets him back, and the brothers know this even when others claim Alphonse's state is somehow a good thing. I have hEDS, a disability that comes with advantages as well as the major downsides, so I can understand and relate to Alphonse here. I too am told my disability is a boon because of flexibility and because I'm less likely to fracture bones, but I'm twice as likely to injure my ligaments and joints, which people ignore.

The brothers are both disabled, both flawed, both show weaknesses, but they are competent, determined, and strong in their own right. They are rounded characters that exist for more than to be pitied or condescended to by able bodied characters around them. They put their entire being in everything that they do no matter what that is, and they don't know the meaning of giving up. These traits that they're made of truly make them a shining example of disability in protagonists for others to look to for reference when writing their own disabled characters.

Even though by the end Edward has regained one limb and Al has regained his body, this also doesn't just deus ex machina reverse their disability or make it go away. It's clear that Alphonse's body is weak and has to be rehabilitated upon recovery, and Edward is still missing his leg and bears the scars and pieces of the port from his automail arm. They weren't suddenly made able bodied upon recovering these things, they reclaimed what was lost through struggle and grit, but the narrative didn't give the impression that their disability in itself was something to be fixed, which is important. They wanted to recover their bodies, but this doesn't erase the effects of their disability.

It was about Edward atoning for leading Alphonse into their mistake and saving his brother from suffering further, it was about them proving they can keep moving forward no matter what, not about getting rid of their disability in itself or putting themselves down because of the disabilities. This, to me, as a mentally and physically disabled viewer, is so important. They achieve their goal, but this doesn't in any way erase or undo the effects of their initial losses, they find ways to adapt and move on but they're still affected and still disabled. They always will be. That can be so important to see in comfort characters, and as a disabled individual who's had both brothers as comfort characters since I was a child, their impact on my own journey is surprisingly tangible for fiction.

#fmab #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fma #edward elric #alphonse elric #elric brothers #character analysis #disability month #disability positivity #disabled #fma 20th anniversary

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spideyspeaches · 3 years

Text

Pretty lies (ugly truths)

A/N: This was something I wrote as soon as I heard Clean also that was 2019 and @peterspideysstuff made me do it smh. I’m proud of it so don’t let this flop 🙂

WC: 3.3k+

Warnings: Please read these before going ahead- mentions of CSA (Skip Wescott), brief description of dissociation.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Masterlist || Taglist

It was the little things that you noticed in Peter. He was your closest friend ever, the best person to have ever entered your life next to Tony Stark, the man who had adopted you the moment he laid his eyes on you.

You always noticed when it came to Peter, the way he jumped around when he was in a happy mood, or when he scored a hundred in chemistry and he would flail his hands in the air and hug you as tightly as he could without crushing your bones with his super strength. You had met him when you were both eight- he had come with his uncle Ben to tour Stark Industries, and you both had snuck out to eat some pizza while the adults talked.

You would never forget that day, because it was the day the two of you became inseparable. He would often visit you since then, in Pepper’s penthouse, and you always cherished those visits. He shared everything in his life with you, he was an open book to you, a dog eared page that you could open with a flick of your fingers.

Coming back from the dead post blip was the final straw. No one could separate you two, and when May and Peter had finally agreed to live in the Lake House (only during the weekends though, since it was far from his school), it was the life of a party for You.

"And you three, don't wreck the house and if I found out that the kitchen is on fire-" Pepper said, fixing Peter's shirt and Morgan's hair at the same time, giving you a stern look.

May was out and it was only the three of you- You, Morgan and Peter, while Tony and Pepper went out for a vacation for the weekend.

They had trusted you to babysit Morgan, well You more than Peter.

“We will be fine Pep! Don’t worry I won’t let them burn down the kitchen, or let Gerald eat the goji berries. Now shoo!” You snickered, pushing Pepper with your hands on her shoulder, before she gave you one more look over her shoulder.

“Oh and if you need anything, Kyle will be here soon, you can ask him anything okay?” She said, making you stop in your tracks.

“Kyle? Who’s that?” Peter asked, shuffling to adjust Morgan, who was perched on his shoulder with her head buried in his neck, her soft snores barely audible.

“He’s Morgan’s babysitter, we can trust him honey, he’s been babysitting her since she was one.” Pepper said calmly, her eyes stiff as she wearily looked at Peter, her eyes flitting to You for a moment. They had all been weary of introducing you to change when you first came back, afraid what the change around you would cause you to break further. It ultimately lead to a heart to heart with Doctor Tumnus and You and Peter, one breakdown from each of you, and lots of cuddles.

“I thought he was in college?” You smiled, lifting your brows.

“You know about him?” He asked, his voice small. You didn’t answer him, choosing to nod your head instead.

Looking at Peter, you felt him stiffen, his shoulders tensing like the way they would whenever he was stressed or overthinking, his grip on Morgan tightening as if to protect her from whatever danger was about to come their way. Your heart sped at his look of frustration, his lip forming a thin line as he pursed them, your own confusion growing.

“Wh-why do we need him? I mean, Y/n/n and I can look after each other right?” He gulped, not meeting Pepper’s or your eyes. Morgan took that moment to wake up sniffing under her breath as she lifted her small head from his shoulder.

“Mommy is Kyle coming over?” She asked innocently, not noticing Peter as he gulped. You gripped his biceps, silently asking why he was acting the way he was.

Peter had always been shy when it came to strangers, choosing to stay in the circle of his own people. Heck he had taken almost months to warm up to you.

“Yes honey, he will be here soon, now, be nice for Peter and Y/N okay?” She cooed, kissing Morgan’s forehead and smiling at the little girl, grimacing as your dad honked from behind, shouting to make it fast.

“Okay mommy, have fun!” Morgan smiled sleepily, going back to her position on Peter’s neck, lifting her thumb to suck on. Holding her small hand, Peter softly brought it down to stop her from sucking on her finger. You smiled at how gentle he was with her, momentarily forgetting his ambiguous behavior at the mention of Morgan’s babysitter.

“So, wanna wreck the house?” You joked in an effort to dissipate the growing tension, watching the retreating figure of Pepper as she waved from the car. You waved back, smiling as you leant against the door jamb.

“Sure.” He said absentmindedly, holding his palm against Morgan’s head, tucking her in more firmly.

“Are you okay Pete?” You asked, scrunching your brows when he clenched his teeth, looking at you with seething eyes. You understood at that moment, why criminals feared him as your own heart clenched. He may be a doe eyed shy boy, but he could be angry when he wanted to.

“Can everyone stop fucking asking me that!?” He bellowed, looking at Morgan to make sure she hadn’t woken up. Walking to her bedroom, he tucked her in before keeping the door to her bedroom ajar, turning towards you,

“What’s crawled and died up your ass Parker?” You clenched, folding your hands as if in defence. You were getting worried, his behavior was not him. He was a naturally cheerful and chatty person, talking the ears off of the person who happened to be in his vicinity, now he was just, closed off.

“It’s nothing okay, it’s- it’s nothing. None of your business.” He said, walking away, leaving you with your jaw dropped and hands up in the air.

“Damn straight it’s my business! Why have you been acting weird ever since Pepper mentioned Morgan’s babysitter?” You snarled, shoulders sagging when you saw him tense up once more.

“Just, leave it alright?” He said, cursing your observation and not meeting your eyes before he turned the kitchen lights off, strutting to his bedroom. It was late at night and Pepper had wanted to have an early start, so they had decided to lodge at the tower before leaving for the trip.

“Alright, you don’t wanna talk am I right? See if I care next time!” You shouted pettily, huffing and moving to your bedroom, shuffling inside the covers, tears of frustration brimming your eyes as you tried to wash away the look Peter had given you from your brain.

***

Sleep didn’t come easy to Peter.

It wasn’t anything new for him, Ben had always said that his mind was like a whirlpool of thoughts- they churned at a very high speed and impared him from sleeping. But his insomnia had been causing problems as of late. Ever since he was little and his parents died, he had been prone to nightmares. Back then, Uncle Ben and Aunt May would do everything in their power to soothe him each time he had a bad dream.

Back then, when he was just a little boy, his uncle and aunt would snuggle up on either side of him and hold him until he fell asleep. Ben would sing with his gruff, slightly out of pitch but soothing voice, while aunt May would scratch the back of his ears, a sweet spot. It was the little gestures that reminded him of his childhood. The good parts of his childhood.

He tossed around in the bed, rolling his eyes to do a once over of his bedroom- the one that Pepper had designed when he had- when he had blipped along with You and three and a half million others. The word felt foreign on his tongue- why was such a catastrophic event named something as insignificant and fickle as “the blip”?

Scrunching his eyes shut, he groaned, tossing and turning around his bed. Heaving a frustrated sigh, he pulled at the bedsheets, kicking the covers off his feet as if he were five.

Peter was raised a city boy, living in the heart of New York, where nothing was really silent. Even before he gained his spidey powers, New York was never silent for him- the nightly noises of sirens and noisy neighbours was a constant in his life, so the sudden silence of living in the woods- where the only source of noise was Morgan and Tony in the morning and crickets chirping in the night was alarming.

Finally giving up, he decided to heave himself off the bed, shuffling his foot until he found the bunny slippers you had given him as a gag gift. Hovering his hands on the doorknob, he twisted it as slightly as he could, wincing when he heard the screeching noise of it twisting, as if it wanted to be as loud as it could just to piss him off.

Walking into the kitchen, he looked at the digital clock on his way, the red numbers glaring that it was well past three am into his retinas.

The room was dark, only illuminated by the small LED light in the garden. Picking up a glass, he looked over his shoulder to see if he had woken You or Morgan. Sighing when he heard your and Morgan’s minuscule snores (perks of having enhanced hearing), he opened the tap, filling the water in the glass before chugging it all up in one go.

“Fuck.” He muttered, slamming the glass down and wished the helpless feeling would go away. Ever since he heard the words come out of Pepper’s mouth, he couldn't think straight, all his thoughts strayed to him. He who had hurt Peter, he who was out of his life.

But who was he kidding? It was as if the universe was laughing at him by tossing another fuckery at his face, the ghost of his past lingering in his brain enough to cover the memories in a thin sheen of dust.

"Pete?" Your voice startled him, making him nearly drop the glass in his hand had it not been for his reflexes, "is that you?"

Your voice was heavy with sleep, fatigue evident as you appeared in his line of sight. Looking at him with squinting eyes as you flicked the light switch on.

"Yeah, just uh… thirsty. Wanted water."

“You have a water bottle on your bedside.”

He stayed silent, clenching his jaw as he looked at you. Biting his lips, he suppressed a chuckle as you failed to suppress a yawn, scrunching your eyes. You had a bad case of bed head, the strands of your hair all over your face. You were wearing your infamous strawberry pajamas, the shirt hanging off your shoulders. His eyes softened, you looked so young, all he wanted to do was smother you in a blanket and protect you from everything.

His gut twisted at the thought of protecting. He was supposed to be protecting Peter too.

“I can hear you thinking.” You said, your hands folded under your chest.

“So this Kyle guy, you know him?”

“Peter, you haven’t even met him, why do you hate him so much?” You sighed, rolling your eyes and wrapping your hands around his waist, laying your head against his shoulder blades.

“I- I don’t hate him! I just want to make sure-”

“Make sure what Peter?” You asked softly.

He gasped as memories flashed in front of him- that night when He had introduced himself to little Peter when He had come to babysit him.

Eight year old Peter had just wanted a friend. And Skip Wescott was a friend to him. He was cool and played games with Peter, showed him cool new science tricks and watched cartoons.

Aunt May and Uncle Ben were not home, they were late for work. Skip had been sending him small smiles the whole time.

“You want to see the big boy stuff now Einstein? I know you’re old enough.” Skip said, shifting uncomfortably close to Peter.

Peter’s smile fell off as he saw Skip’s eyes flash dangerously. And at that moment, he didn’t want Skip. He didn’t want to be friends with him any more and he wanted Aunt May.

“Nothing, go back to sleep.” He said, a lump forming in his throat, clutching the glass hard enough for cracks to appear on it. You left him be that night.

***

He didn’t notice when he fell asleep after that, the fear creeping up his spine in spite of knowing that Skip won’t be able to hurt him anymore- he was in jail, Ben had made sure of it. Yet he kept flashing back to his lowest points, when he had cried so loud, yet no one heard a thing.

In the end, he had won the case, yet the scars had remained fresh. His win felt futile, a defeat in spite of winning.

The smell of blueberry waffles invaded his senses first, his eyelids cracking open against the force of sleep. Scrunching his eyes, he let the world slowly come into motion, the walls coming into focus one by one.

He was startled into complete wakefulness by the sudden flurry of mass that had jumped on him, panic settling before noticing that it was just Morgan, her excited rambling bringing him back.

“H-hey Momo! You seem excited huh? Good morning to you too.” He laughed, inhaling as she jumped on his stomach.

“Petey you have to brush your teeth! Come down fast because I have a surprise for you.” She giggled, snuggling into his chest and getting up just as fast, pulling him with her tiny hand.

“I see you have a handy alarm clock.” You said from the doorway, smirking when you saw him

“A very cute alarm clock.” Peter cooed, pinching Morgan’s cheeks and leaving a big sloppy kiss on her cheek, making the little girl giggle, “Wait if you’re both here then who’s in the kitchen? Did May come back? Or is it Happy?”

“No May will be in Cali for a little longer, Happy visited her there so they’re having an impromptu vacation.” You smirked, knowing how much it irked Peter whenever you told him about May and Happy’s escapades. He rolled his eyes, scrunching his nose in disgust, just as you had expected him to.

“I didn’t need to know that, but whatever, who is it though?”

“Kyle’s here! He’s cooking waffles cause I told him Petey likes them very much! It was supposed to be a surprise but Y/n/n ruined it.” The little girl pouted, glaring at you with her adorable brown eyes. She looked exactly like Tony when she did that.

He felt a pang in his chest, an unearthed nervousness taking residence as he felt his stomach drop. He pulled Morgan closer, feeling your eyes on him as you tried to gauge his expression.

“Yeah.” You said simply, urging Morgan to come to you as he got up from the bed.

Walking downstairs after cleaning up, he stiffly sat on the table, watching as a short but lean Blond man cooked waffles.

“Hey kiddo! You must be Peter, Morgan and Y/N talk about you all the time!” The guy- Kyle probably, said chirpily. Peter clenched his fists under the table, noticing the look you were giving him.

“Hi.” He said shyly, ducking his head so he won’t have to see him.

“Well they told me you’re shy too.” He said, a smile evident in his voice.

“Y-Yeah.”

“Aw Pete don’t be rude! At least look at his face.” You joked, hitting him slightly in the ribs.

“Sorry I just, that smells delicious.” He smiled, finally looking up to blue eyes staring at him. He shifted nervously, sitting up straight.

“Thank you.”

He felt uneasy under his gaze, bringing the glass of water to his lips to avoid making eye contact.

“How long is he gonna stay here?” Peter whispered to you, avoiding to look inside the kitchen where he was cooking lunch with Morgan- the girl was perched on the countertop with her legs dangling and swinging.

You and Peter had retreated to the AV room after breakfast, opting to watch a movie instead of doing homework. Well it was You who had dragged Peter, because you knew he had already done it before coming.

“He’ll make dinner and go, again, why?” You asked him, fisting some popcorn and throwing them in your mouth.

“It’s nothing.”

You let it go again.

Dinner was an awkward affair. He couldn’t help but let his gaze linger onto him, how he interacted with Morgan. She seemed genuinely happy, jumping around the house till she was tired, enjoying as he lifted her up and played airplane with her.

He really didn’t want to think about it, but his spidey sense kept buzzing a headache in the bottom of his skull. He tried to distract himself, opening his chemistry text book to read ahead of class, but the worlds kept floating around as he saw you and Morgan laugh at something Kyle had said.

“Come on Einstein! It won’t hurt for you to keep that textbook and play with us eh?” Kyle said, winking at him as Morgan laughed, making grabby hands at him so he would come.

You want to see the big boy stuff now Einstein?

No, this wasn’t Skip. This was Kyle, Morgan’s babysitter.

He knew the comment was noncommittal, but he felt his heart race, the world zooming in and out of focus as it got harder to breathe, his book swimming in his hands. He felt floaty, the tingling in his hands intensifying as he felt someone’s hands on his back, dizzily startling him into reality.

“Hey, hey take a breath kid, it’s alright. Deep breaths.” A soothing voice said, cold sweat breaking as he dropped his textbooks. Tears ran down his face without meaning to as he pursed his lips. Instead of saying anything, he sat up and ran into his room.

He could hear you running after him, Kyle asking “Is he okay” as you reassured him. Tears were running freely now as he slammed the door, flopping on the bed and burying himself in the pillows, wishing that the bed would swallow him whole.

He didn’t know why he was reacting the way he did, Kyle was a good person, he saw the way he interacted with Morgan. He was gentle and loving, then why is it that he kept seeing him.

He heard the door creek, your footsteps echoing in his ears, drums rattling against his brain.

“Are you ready to talk now?” You asked softly, wafting your hands through his hair as he felt the bed dip with your weight.

“I had a babysitter, when I was eight. His name was Skip.” He croaked, breathing through his nose. He felt you stiffen as you seemed to connect the dots. Nudging him to move so you could insert yourself in the space.

“Did he hurt you Pete?” You whispered, rubbing his back.

“He did bad things to me, I just, I don’t want anyone to go through it again. Please. He may be in jail but- but sometimes I still feel like he’s here and I hate how I feel! I want him gone. I just want him gone and I want the memories to be erased.”

You remained silent, rubbing his back through his sweatshirt, unbidding tears appearing in your eyes. Someone had hurt Peter. You felt anger boiling inside you, swirling in a dangerous tornado at the thought of someone hurting the best person in your life,

You promised yourself that day that You would protect him at all costs. You couldn't do it in the past, but you would in the future.

“I’m glad you told me about this Pete.” You said, clenching your teeth as he met your eyes.

#peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader #peter x reader #peter parker x stark reader #stark!reader #spiderman x stark!reader #peter parker x avenger!reader #avenger!reader #peter parker x reader angst #peter parker x reader fluff #peter parker smut #spideygirl writes

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miss-choco-chips · 3 years

Text

Favorite color

Ever since he was born, his world was filled with colors, a beautiful rainbow at his fingers. He’d look down at them at night, or when his parent’s leaving made him want to cry, or when a horror story told by a classmate in the playground scared him half to death, and find comfort in their silky touch and bright hues.

He was seven when he learned the meaning behind them. And the blaring lack of red signaled the first, but not last, heartbreak of his life.

Blue, green, purple, black… and bright yellow. A teacher, a missed opportunity, a first love, life and death… and friendship. No eternal love for Tim, it seemed.

Well. He hadn’t really expected any different. Who would love him forever, when his own parents didn’t?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He had forgotten it, and it escaped his notice for many years. Until one night, following Dick Grayson as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop, when he noticed his purple string moving in synch with him. Pointing towards his hero, the boy who had given him his very first hug that night at the circus. His First Love, his Not Meant to Be.

That night, Tim packed up early and went home. He just couldn’t stand the red uniform contrasting sharply with his purple thread.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When Dick left, he thought maybe now he could go back to his old habits, to run the streets looking for flashes of the new robin without the baggage of avoiding to look at his own hand.

No such luck.

The green made a whole lot of sense when news of Jason’s death reached him, tough.

It wouldn't be the last night he’d cry himself to sleep, holding the frayed ends of his fated Almost.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Becoming Robin was both easy and painful. Comfortable, because the blue string pointing him towards Bruce meant this was always supposed to happen; heartbreaking, because it took a kid dying. Because Tim might not have a romantic soul mate, but his hands, that had made a green string break to grant him access to the blue path, were stained red nonetheless.

Wearing Robin’s red, with all the hurt and bad memories it carried, felt like a subpar punishment.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Meeting his Yellows almost passed his awareness. In the middle of a crisis, every adult missing, no mentor to guide him, he couldn’t exactly spare a thought for the kids looking shellshocked at him, each other and their hands.

After, when Young Justice was officially formed, he firmly avoided looking at Bart, Superboy and Wondergirl. Their eyes followed him, pleading, but he’d learned no good ever came from strings that weren’t red.

And the red in his soul wasn’t from love.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Despite himself and his best efforts, they grew closer. Life or death situations had that effect on people, after all.

His own reluctance, which had in turn provoqued Kon’s anger, Bart’s dejection and Cassie’s confusion, slowly began to crumble. He was helpless in the face of their unrelenting friendship.

The strings grew shinier, stronger, healthier, the yellow a stark contrast to frayed (dead) green, cold blue, distant purple. Scary black.

Tim still despised the rainbow in his fingers, but… he could maybe withstand the sparks of yellow he’d catch from the corner of his eye, knowing just who were at the other end.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It wasn’t exactly team training. Greta, Anita, Cissie, Slobo and the others didn’t join them, for whatever reason. It was always the four of them, leaning on and learning from each other.

When Kon’s strength frustrated him, when the world around him seemed to be made of bubbles and sea foam, Tim stayed late at night every weekend to help. Every spare moment directed towards coaching him, again and again, through exercises he had to come by himself (Clark was no big help, here), until exhaustion made his muscles tremble and Kon’s anger had burned out from frustration to soft acceptance that he just wasn’t like the rest. Until he could hold still and let Superboy trace the side of his jaw with a careful finger, and exchange proud little smiles when his face remained unbroken.

Bart being raised by video games had the expected outcome; he had little to no practical, day to day life knowledge. He was the closest living thing to a Looney Toon. Which was fun and good when crime fighting, his crazy ideas often saved their ass last minute, but unacceptable if integrating him into society was to be considered. So Tim would take him out, hand in hand so he didn’t forget himself and ran on his own, to leisurely stroll down busy streets, arcades, schools, libraries. Talk to people in parks and visit recreational centers, barter with street vendors and ask the little boy selling flowers on Jump Street how his mother is doing. Whatever Tim could think of that would soften Bart’s cultural shock.

In that regard, Cassie was a godsend. With her own attentive mentor, and raised like a normal girl until she obtained her powers, she was the most well balanced member on their team. Tim had started to feel a little restless (how can he help her, how can he convince her to stay…), when he noticed her frustrated, sad face whenever Donna was mentioned on Tv, when any reporter or older hero compared the two Wonder Girls. Familiar as he was with imposter syndrome, Tim would rest his arm around her shoulders and turn to the rest of the team, loudly reminding everyone to ‘speed up guys, Cassie here’s already done with her training routine’ or slump tiredly against her while complaining about ‘how immature they are, I can’t deal, thank God you’re here to remind me competent people do exist’.

It was familiar, to help them along. To nudge them forward and watch their backs as they went, firmly making their way towards being the awesome men and woman he knew they’d become. Lending a hand here and there, working on steading their foundations, so he’d be remembered fondly when they inevitably took off and went on with their lives.

He was used to that, to looking for ways his fated people would want him around. Being a good brother to Dick, an eager student to Bruce (a good mourner for Jason).

What he wasn’t used to was reciprocation, though.

Tim had learned how to fly from the best, from Dick Grayson himself.The boy with no powers that looked at gravity and laughed, sayed “thanks, but no”. But there were some things only a true meta could experience, ways to move his body just so, to take advantage of wind currents to either speed or slow his movements. Kon also visited him in Gotham, unknowing or uncaring about its meta restriction, risking pissing off Batman himself just to spend time with Tim.

There was Bart, kind, cute, friendly Bart, who would stop eating and playing around to drag Tim to the training grounds and run laps around him, as silently as he knew how. Making Tim used to fighting against someone quicker than him, lighter on their feet. To count incredibly soft steps even when they made no sound, and use other senses to pinpoint exactly where the next hit was going to come from. And after they were done, there was always a warm smile and some sweet treat (always different, as if Bart was determined to figure out Tim’s preferences by trial and mistake), the new knowledge and delicious prize worth the dirt in unmentionable places.

As stated before, Cassie was an absolute godsend. But it wasn’t just because she was easier to deal with than the rest. Or because she understood the pressure he had on his shoulders, being raised in the shadow of two incredibly renowned heroes. When Tim’s position as leader had been taken away (after Bruce’s plans for taking out the league became known, and ‘what if he has the same for us’), she took him aside. Hugging him, promising him the team’s anger was going to pass, that she could see why those contingencies might be necessary, that even if she was officially in charge, she’d always defer to him when it mattered. Her trust in him and his heart was unshakable, firm as the arm he’d put round her when self doubt arose its head.

(It wasn’t supposed to be this way; if they reciprocated, they didn’t owe him, and then how was he supposed to keep them close? To convince him to stay, to love the boy with loveless fate?)

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Jason was unexpected, but Tim couldn’t hold it against him. Even there, bleeding out in the Tower, he felt… at ease.

His predecessor was back. Bruce’s son was back. The prodigal Robin had returned, by some miracle. Tim’s shift had come to an end; even if he died here, he had succeeded in keeping Bruce sane, and now that the real deal was in town, Jason could take over and everything would go back as it should have been. Everyone (B, Dick, Babs, Alfred) would be happier. Maybe they’d mourn him, for a bit, but with such a joyous occasion as a beloved one returning home, it wasn’t like grief could stay for long.

Someone yelled, near. Warm hands shaking as they touched his face infinitely careful, small fingers intertwined with his in a very familiar hold, a strong and slender arm around his back as he’s being held in a half hug. Cries, pleas, demands.

And while nothingness claims Tim, drags him to a well of black, yellow still clings to his eyelids. A touch that keeps him warm even though unconsciousness is supposed to be so cold.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Death and life. Damian.

Tim can see the first one, what with all of the brat’s attempts to end him. It’s the second one that has him stumped.

He knows not all strings go both ways. His purple one, for example; even if Dick was Tim’s first love, everyone and their mother knew Babs’ was his. Dick had a string pointing towards Tim, but it was a mentor-student one. Same as the one he and Bruce shared. Jason, too; Tim’s side of the string was the green of Almost, while the former Robin’s color was black (Tim taking his place as Robin, and being the only one in the family offering his hand again and again despite his murderous actions, was in some poetic sense the death of an old role, and the birth of a new family dynamic).

Damian, though… Well. He was almost sure they had the same color for each other (how else to explain such dangerous rage), but really, unless the kid was willing to share, it was only suppositions for now.

His only comfort remained the three beams of light, of a yellow almost golden in its healthy shine.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When Tim changed his suit following Conner’s death, everyone thought it was an homenage. A way to pay tribute to a hero that was his closest, dearest friend. A way to never forget (as if he could, ever, with the lifeless line of pale beige, once yellow, dangling from his twitching finger).

They weren’t wrong, but it wasn’t just that.

Red had always pained him, in a deep, almost forgotten place. A thorn on his side, scratching against his heart. For the longest part, yellow had filled him to the brim, until hurt and yearning had no place inside him. With Kon’s warmth missing, red bleed in the place between Cassie and Bart, despite their best efforts to close ranks and keep it out.

Their sad eyes followed him during the funeral, knowing what the color meant to him. Just how much he was hurting himself, right now. But, lost in their own grief, there was little to be done.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

By the time Tim got the call about Bart, he already knew.

He ignored the ringing phone, holding a sobbing Cassie in his arms, both desperately clutching at their only remaining yellow string.

Between the two of them, color like blood seeped.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Every so often, when Ra’s voice in his ear became too familiar for comfort, where lines draw in sand begane to erode and blur, he’d raise his hand, eyes locked on the three yellow strings, and watch as Cassie’s moved, disappearing end pointing always in her direction.

He was fairly sure that, wherever she was, she was doing the same. Reminding herself he was alive as well, hadn’t left her behind.

Her absence from his life was necessary, finding Bruce a priority, and the red of his new suit (his new name) was proof of just how deeply it all ran. But it didn’t mean he wasn’t yearning for her lighter color.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

They were back, and he was hiding.

He wanted to run to their arms, hug them and never let them out of his view, far from where he could protect them (keep them). He wanted Kon’s hand on his face, delicate despite his strength, un-trembling when Tim’s own would softly join it on his check and held it there; Bart’s fingers between his own, too steady and constant for the boy who didn’t know how to sit still; Cassie’s arm on his waist, his own on her back, as they shared the weight of the world in their shoulders.

And because he wanted so damn much, he couldn’t do it.

He was covered in red. His first love discarded him, his Almost died so Tim could have his Teacher, his Life and Death was so heavily focused on the last bit… his hands lacked red, but oh, how much he leaked of it in his soul.

He couldn’t let them die again, be stained by his twisted fate; even if it meant he could’t hold them close any longer.

Letting go was more painful than holding on, but he was used to it by now.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

They find him. Of course they do; even without Kon’s senses, they all have beams of gold pointing them towards him, like Dorothy’s yellow brick road.

Tim knew it, was ready for it. And as such, had prepared the words that would push them away, to where it was safer.

Or so he thought.

“We are not leaving you.”

“Who cares about fate? You are ours, Rob.”

“It’s been long enough, Tim. Time to come home, we are done waiting.”

He denies them, shakes despite his usual iron clad control over his body, heart wrenching painfully at their decided expressions.

“You don’t understand. I’m Red Robin now. I’m not… I’m no good for you.”

“I could literally snap your back with the flick of a finger, shut up with that ‘I’m dangerous’ bullshit.”

“Yeah, even Bart could be dangerous given the right circumstances, you aren’t the only one here to watch for. It doesn’t mean shit to us.”

‘

“That’s right, I- wait, what do you mean ‘even Bart?”

“Not the point, Imp.”

They don’t get it. He takes his mask off, wants to give them a good look at his eyes, to read his emotions there and finally realize what’s wrong about him.

“Almost all my strings have something to do with death, or were touched by it. Don’t you see it?” He raises his hand, despite knowing they can’t see his strings, only their own. “I have no red here, only blood. I can’t… I’m not safe to love. I’ll never be loved.”

Kon snaps, something he had rarely done since their Young Justice days, hands on Tim’s shoulders, seemingly torn between shaking him and pulling him close. The latter wins.

(As it always does)

“This is love, you idiot! WE love you!”

Tim chokes on something (saliva, his own breath, emotions). Gasps, tears coming to his eyes unbridled.

He feels two pairs of arms joining the first one, a cocoon of warmth and unconditional love forming around him.

Bart’s sad eyes watch Tim from under Kon’s hug. “I don’t have red either, Rob. Romantic, platonic, filial… who gives a fuck”, he shrugs, before hiding his face against the red of Tim’s uniform. Uncaring of all it represents for him or perhaps doing his best to defy it.

Cassie just holds them all in the circle of her own embrace, forehead to the back of Tim’s head. Her hold is the tightest, and he just realizes- she lost all of them, didn’t she? To death and grief, all too far to touch, and now that they’re back in her arms, there’s little chance of her ever letting go again.

“Love has more than one form, Tim.”

He shudders in the middle of this weirdly emotional dog pile, and thinks. About Bruce and Dick’s pride when they successfully taught him something new. Of Jason’s reluctant smile when Tim first tugged him along to some joined patrol, sneakily edging him closer to the family with every interaction. Of Damian, who would often look down at his own hands (and Tim would honestly kill someone to know just which color the young boy had for Tim) and then at him, with something like hope in his green eyes.

He thinks… yeah. And this one…

(He gives up, closing his eyes and snuggling deeper into Kon’s chest, knees buckling but staying up thanks to his three rays of sunlight holding him in place between them.)

This one’s shape might just be his favorite.

#my writting #core disaster week #day two #Red string of fate #tim drake #kon el kent #bart allen #cassie sandsmark #bruce wayne #dick grayson #damian wayne #jason todd #angst #you've been warned

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crushzone · 4 years

Note

omg can i request relationship hc with kei tsukishima as well

Absolutely, anon!! Only makes sense for the other Tsukki to get his love too. Here’s my relationship with Akiteru HC if you wanna check that out.

I’m also sorry my headcanons always turn into short semi-fic hybrids, I just get too invested in my imagination and Kei was a lot of fun to write for hehee.

Thank you @tedwardos and @nonexistent-social-life for bouncing some ideas with me, and coming up with Tsukkisaur HAHA. You guys are amazing. 😘💞

Being in a Relationship with Kei Tsukishima 👓🦖

How it all began:

Truthfully, I do not see Kei as someone who would fall in love or have a crush on anyone that easily. Therefore, I believe it would be appropriate if you are Yamaguchi’s distant relative who went to the same school.

As we all know, Yams would get bullied often in middle school, and even when he tried to stand up for himself, he gets pushed back down. So that’s why you always try to intervene, physically throwing your body between the bully and your relative with your bravest face.

However, they would just push you aside and go back to bullying Yams :(. You felt pretty dang helpless and very upset that you've been brushed off like a piece of garbage.

So as you are readying to tackle one of them, you stop when you hear an unfamiliar voice behind you. “Lame.”

You turn around angrily, thinking that it was directed at you, but is surprised when the tall blonde boy is looking above you, at the bullies.

One of them runs over to pick a fight with him, but he simply towers over them. Tsukki: “What?” then at that, they all run away, leaving you and Yams behind. You’re still unsure if he was also referring to you, but when you turn to look at the admiration in your relative’s eyes, you can’t help but look down at the bruises on your knees pathetically.

All these times you’ve spent trying to protect him, only ends in failure, and then this boy comes by and saves him with barely any effort. You were rather jealous, and felt discredited, so you try to avoid Kei at all costs. Even just the sight of him walking by in the halls irk you.

And to your dismay, you are a little horrified to see that Yamaguchi had befriended him and is now constantly by his side. He’d asked you to hangout with him, and get to know Kei better, but you keep denying his efforts.

Meanwhile, the only thing Kei knows about you is your name, through Yams. But he doesn’t really know or care about you tbh, he’s got other things he’d rather be focused on, like volleyball.

THEN one day, Yamaguchi tells you that he is joining the volleyball team in middle school, and it would mean a lot to him if you go see Karasuno’s match with him and Kei.

You wanted to say no, but you love your relative, so you decided to go.

When you’re there, you never really spoke to Kei, only sticking to conversations with Yams. Then when you get to where the game is, you notice Kei’s awfully silent as he scans the court, not seeing his brother anywhere.

You wonder why he’s grown silent, but then when this one kid stalks over with a magazine in hand, saying that his brother is not even on the sidelines, you decide to shove the kid away because he’s being so annoying.

“Kei...let’s go.” You say, as you try to tug him away from the hood of his jacket. To your surprise, he follows you silently with his head down.

Tbh, you don’t really know the whole picture of what had happened, but he looks so down and vulnerable after the game, so you spent the rest of the day, trying to cheer him up with Yams.

Then the next day, you stop by his class during lunch to see how he’s doing, and is surprised to see that his demeanor had changed drastically. The sparkles in his eyes no longer there, as he ignores you when he steps out of homeroom.

That upsets you initially, but then you realize that whatever had just happened is probably a much bigger deal to him than his rude behavior just now. So you suck it up, and jog up to him, so you can walk to the canteen together, in silence.

He’s never expressed it, but your quiet presence is actually really comforting.

Then the next day, you do that again. And again. Before you know it, it became a thing for you and Kei to walk to lunch together. Sometimes, he’ll be the one to come over to your homeroom before you could go to his. “It’s nothing. My class just got out earlier, so I’m giving your lazy legs a break.”

Yamaguchi notices you and him getting closer over time, and it makes him very happy.

You begin to notice his subtle acts of thoughtfulness, such as when he’ll only eat half of his lunch so he can offer the other half to you; he knows you are absolutely in love with his mother’s cooking. It made you feel really bad because you don’t have a bento to offer him back; your parents are usually very busy so they don’t have time to pack you lunch, but you’ve been okay with that.

The fact that you love his mother’s cooking also got him feeling a little smug tbh.

Because of this, you’d try to cook something for your own lunch. But c’mon, you are just a 6th grader, unsupervised in the kitchen (lol), so you could only make something as simple as peanut butter and jelly HAHA.

So the next day, when it’s lunch again, and Tsukki offers you half of his food (Or more like, pretending that he can’t finish it and didn’t want to throw his food in the trash), you scramble to pull out your sloppily wrapped sandwich and offer the other half to him with a big grin.

It got him laughing at how ridiculous your sandwich looks, it’s not appetizing at all.

But just when you’re about to wrap it back up with a pout, he grabs it from your hand before smoothly sliding his food over to you. “This looks awful”, he’ll say as he takes a bite, getting some peanut butter on his cheeks.

You’re surprised he took it, and can’t help but feel a strange flutter in your heart when you see his ears redden, his gaze avoiding yours.

The next day, Tsukki shows up with two bento boxes, and hands one to you with a blush. “I told my mom about your awful sandwich, so she decided to make an extra bento.”

And when you are just standing there in awe at his thoughtfulness, he gets even more flustered as he shakes it around. “Do you want this or not?”

Of course you took it, and you are BEAMING when you eat. Tsukki can’t help but accidentally smile at how endearing you are. “Idiot.”

Yamaguchi also noticed that btw. So he’s got a plan haha ;)

Ever since that day, Yams would occasionally back out from hangouts or events just so the two of you can spend some alone time together.

You and Tsukki being smarties, TOTALLY notice Yams’ attempts. The first time you figured it out, awkwardness turns on like a freaking switch. Suddenly neither of you know what to say or do, because the idea of being matched is hella embarrassing.

But then you were like, “It’s not weird if you don’t make it weird. We also don’t have to acknowledge his attempts and treat this like the usual.” So at that, you go back to talking like usual.

Tsukki is definitely a lot softer when you are alone with him, he doesn’t tease you AS much and is very thoughtful.

Now that you three are in the same high school, Yams would still do that!! And he is low-key frustrated as to why his plans are working so slowly >:( Get yourself together guys, you clearly like each other!

When you had to buy a bunch of textbooks, Yams got you to go with Tsukki alone and he carried all your books haha. Even went to get your uniforms together, and you helped him pick his size.

You two are around each other all the time, and are very comfortable about it. Everyone in school think you are an item, even teachers and fellow parents. Hell, even your own parents thought you two had been dating since middle school. But no one really brought it up, because....well, it’s not like it’s an issue or anything, they’re all just happy you’re happy.

However, neither of you know that’s what the others had been thinking, so you’re a little confused when people keep asking you where Tsukki is, or when they do the same to him. Like, I’m not his parents, how am I going to know where he is all the time. You may think that, but you both ALWAYS know about each other’s whereabouts somehow lol.

Honestly, you two don’t even acknowledge each other’s looks or changes, when you see him, it’s just him and his sassy attitude you’ve grown accustomed to. Well...and his tall bum, cuz your neck starts to hurt a little more than it usually does whenever you look up at him. UNTIL....DUN DUN DUNNN

It’s Valentine’s Day, and different students all over campus are slipping love notes into lockers, some leave roses on their crush’s table, while female students are handing out their giri and honmei choco to their male friends and crushes.

It totally flew past your head that it is Valentine’s day, so when you walk over to your locker with Tsukki and Yams that morning (you always walk to school together and your lockers are right next to each other’s), you are surprised to see 6 love letters fall from yours.

You: 😳 Yams: 😦 (he’s still a heavy believer in you and Tsukki lol, so he’s worried about competition.) Tsukki: 😶

“I see you got some admirers.“ He says casually, turning to unlock his own locker. Little did you know, he’s trying to suppress his curiosity....and jealousy?? Who could it be? When did they put those letters in your locker. How creepy.

You turn to him, wondering if he also got some letters in his locker, and your heart sinks when he pulls out one, nonchalantly ripping the beautiful packaging with his thumb to read its contents. He flips it around in his hand, trying to see if it’s got a name on it, but there were none.

The entire time when you are in class, you can’t help but wonder who had sent Tsukki that letter. The fact that it was the only one, makes you a lot more nervous too. What if it IS the one...and why would you care so much if it is. You’d be happy for him....right?

Meanwhile, Tsukki’s thoughts are also occupied as he sits in class, by the window. Since when has Y/n been so popular. Will you spend time with him and Yams if you found someone? What about you is so attractive....oh....shit. YEA boy, you’ve ALWAYS been attractive, but he never noticed.

Then lunch rolls around, and you are waiting for Tsukki to meet you by your homeroom, since he’d mentioned earlier that he’ll be the one to swing by. But he never came...:(

And it’s not that he forgot. As he’s about to step out of his homeroom to go to yours, an unfamiliar feminine voice calls out to him, and when he turns around, a girl is offering him her honmei choco. 🤭 He’s SHOOK, but then he quickly realizes that she’s probably the one who slipped the letter in his locker.

Nice Tsukki activated, because I don’t think he’s actually MEAN mean, ya know? “Thank you.” He says, as he takes the chocolate from her with a neutral expression. “But I’m currently seeing someone.”

The girl looks to him with a sad smile, so close to the verge of tears. “That’s ok! I hope you’ll enjoy it though, thank you for being honest!” She says, quickly running down the hall. He felt bad, but he’s more confused about why he had said what he did. That was dumb, I’m not seeing anyone, he scolds himself, walking off to your homeroom while shaking his head incredulously.

When he gets to you, he feels guilty at the sight of you sitting by your homeroom, fingers fiddling sadly. “Why do you look like you’re in some emotional music video?” At the sound of his voice, you spring up to punch his abs jokingly, low key impressed at how rock solid they were haha. “What took you forever!! Did you have diarrhea or something?”

But he never responded, instead, opting to flick your forehead gently before walking off. “Some girl approached me, probably the one who slipped that letter in my locker.”

You let go of your forehead, instead feeling a hitch in your throat for some reason. When he didn’t hear your response, he stops walking. “But I told her I got you guys.”

Your face WARMS TF OUT, but you are hella happy, immediately bouncing up to him. “Is Kei finally willing to show his friends some love and affection?” You tease him as you burst out laughing. You’re sorry for the girl, but for some reason, you’re happy, happy to know that you are not going to lose him to somebody else.

Then during lunch, as Kei’s unpacking his boxes, handing one of his extra bentos to you, his face turns BRIGHT red when he notices this adorable packaging with home made chocolate in it. The note is written in his mother’s handwriting: For anybody your heart decides to give this present to! Love, Mom.

“Are you okay?” Yams asks as he peers over his shoulder, eyes widening when he sees what Tsukki’s been staring at for the past minute. You look over at them suspiciously, already chewing on some food in bliss. “It’s nothing.” He mumbles, quickly tying and setting the bag down. Ok, sus, but you’ll let it pass.

For the second half of his day, he can barely focus on school, wondering if you’d find it strange for him to give you those chocolates. But he’s also a little afraid to go home with it, fearing that he’d make his mother sad. He could eat it himself and lie, but that also feels wrong.

By the time he’s done with practice and is helping the team wrap up the gym, you poke your head in through the entrance with a smile. You also have your own after school club and it usually finishes a few minutes before volleyball practice does, so you make it a thing to walk home with two of your favorite boys.

Also, at this point, you go there all the time, so you’ve become well acquainted with the entire team. It would bother Tsukki how Noya and Tanaka always does some of the dumbest things to try to impress you, or the way the other members would cast longing glances at you, before returning to what they were doing. Even the third years can’t help but smile a little wider and stand up a little straighter when you greet them.

“I’m going to run to the restroom before we leave.” Yams says, when he notices the way Tsukki is fiddling with his headphone cord, constantly casting hesitant glances at you.

Screw it. Tsukki decides, when he’s finally alone with you again. This is my last chance. “Oi, idiot.” He says, tearing your gaze away from the bright moon and the stars that sprinkles the night sky.

There he is, with the chocolate in his outstretched hand, looking hella flustered. “T-Take it.” He stutters, mentally cursing at how embarrassed he is, he can’t even look you in the eye.

Your entire body warms, as you could feel a tingly sensation on your cheeks and ears, slowly reaching to grab the chocolate from his trembling hands, still at a loss for words.

“Kei...” You begin, but he quickly counters, looking away. “My mother made it.”

"Ah...” You respond quietly, suddenly feeling really sad because you thought he had feelings for you.

He notices the sadness in your tone. “And you’re ok, I guess.”

You remain silent for a moment, a smile slowly painting your lips, as you continue to stare at the tiny red box of chocolate in hand. Then he’s caught off guard when he feels your gentle fingers, timidly curling to the side of his large palm. He looks to you in surprise; it was too spontaneous for him to put his walls back up.

“I like you too, Kei.” You respond with a smile, that only widens when he shyly returns your gesture, long fingers curling over yours. “let’s share this! there’s three pieces in here.”

When Yamaguchi returns, the three of you share a piece, humming in delight when the deliciousness and richness of the chocolate lather your taste buds.

Earlier Stages

WHEEEW sorry the backstory was so long, I just think that’s one of the few ways I’d ever see a relationship with him form: through time.

And like any other aspects of your relationship, both in regards to intimacy and communication, it’s also going to take him some time to acclimate and adjust. He’s doing his best, everyday, mentally beating himself when he fails.

You know how harsh he can be to himself, so you try to cut him some slack by becoming more observant. Constantly teaching yourself to learn his micro-signs and sighing in frustration every time you misread him.

However, Tsukki notices your attempt, and is incredibly grateful. He’ll make things a little easier for you, because he can see how much it stresses you to do so. He’ll try to communicate more, eventually telling you how he feels, though he’ll admit, it does feel very awkward in the beginning. Overtime, you’re both helping each other grow in the communication department.

On days when you have no clue how to read him and is feeling overwhelmed, Akiteru is always there for you to consult! Well...it’s actually usually the other way around tbh.

That being said, you GOTTA be patient with him. He will be sassy, and he will be even sassier when you get into arguments, or when you’ve accidentally annoyed him.

However, because you’ve known him for a LONG time, you’ve learnt to translate his saltiness into kinder words haha. (kinda like what Hinata does with Kageyama lol)

You’re always by him, and apologizing on his behalf when he annoys someone.

However, if the person he’s accidentally annoyed expresses their hatred for him to you, you will always defend him because you know that he’s really great person and that his attitude is just a defense mechanism to prevent himself from getting hurt.

But there will be days when you really wish he could shed that wall and realize that he has friends and families who love him dearly and will support him no matter what. But you know that it’s not something that could happen over night, it’s just a wish that he would slowly walk down that path one day.

You are grateful though, so very grateful, because when Tsukki is alone with you, there is never a moment when he’d allow himself to put up that wall. He refuses, finally finding relief in relaxing his defenses for once, because it can get tiring sometimes.

In fact, all those walls that he put up, is probably the reason why he can’t really hangout around others for too long, he needs to be alone and recharge. So the fact that he’s able to relax around you, means that his “alone time” will almost always include you.

His eyes remain soft, as he always looks at you with a subtle glint to his golden orbs and an upward curve to his lips.

And when he laughs, he does so freely. Even Akiteru is surprised when he accidentally overhears it from his bedroom.

His mother still cooks you lunch, so whenever you’d go to his house for a study session, you ask her if she could teach you how to cook, and that made her SO happy. It becomes a thing now; you two would cook and sing along with one another in the kitchen before you excuse yourself to study.

His mother and brother loves you SO much. Sure, they’ve known you for a long time, because you and Yams would come over often and hangout, but it’s never been just you and Tsukki. So now that you’re together, they have the chance to chit chat with you alone.

You’re basically like a daughter to his mother, because let’s be real, as much as she loves her sons, she’s always wanted at least another woman in the house to hangout with.

When Akiteru visits home, he’ll bring some interesting comics or things for you to geek out about together. At one point, Kei even got jealous enough that he’d come join you guys by the porch, softly playing his music on the phone.

Speaking of music, he likes to create playlists and sends them to you. Whenever it’s just you and him on your way to the canteen together, he’ll offer you one side of his ear piece, so you can listen to music together on your way there.

You both take your relationship VERY slowly, and that’s perfectly fine. It took you over 2 months into your relationship to hold hands outside the comfort of your homes, and 4 to share your first kiss.

FIRST KISS 💋: It was during lunch break, when you and Kei decide to enjoy your meal at the roof of an academic building. Yams was busy with something else at the time, so he promises to join you a little later. The two of you are alone, ear piece in one ear each, with shoulders and knees touching, then suddenly, you feel an urge to shift your gaze to him. As if your minds are one, he did the same, but instead of feeling embarrassment from your sudden eye contact, you slowly lean to one another, like the ocean, magnetized by the moon, sharing the most innocent, gentle kiss, before pulling back to look into each other’s orbs. It was so gentle, like a breeze that tickles the bottom of your lips when you exhale. It was very nice.

Since that day, the two of you begin to experiment in private, like kissing a little more passionately when you catch him gazing at you again mid-studying. You even tried cuddling, and you LOVE it.

I can’t even begin to express how wonderful it feels like to cuddle someone tall (looking at you, Lev boi 😉), the way his long limbs drape over yours, big warm hands massaging your shoulders comfortingly as you breathe in the clean scent of his sweater.

However, cuddles don’t happen often, except for special occasions when you both feel extra needy or exhausted. He’s never really been a touchy person. Hand holding is fine, but constant cuddling just makes him feel like he’d rather be doing something else.

BUT, here’s the trick. If you request for some song recommendations, so he can play it on his speaker, while you crawl up to him on the bed, with your head on his chest, he’ll never be able to reject you. He’ll readjust himself comfortably, removing his glasses, before turning you sideways to face his chest, as he tucks his chin over your head, legs entwined. If this is the case, you can lay there for hours, listening to different songs until you fall asleep.

Loves it when you wear his oversized clothes, but will never admit it. You know he likes it because he always offer you his clothes when you come over, just so you can be comfortable while studying with him. (I’d never say no to that.)

Also likes it how his scent lingers to you, even when you change back into your school uniform so you can head home.

Just generally a big scent, kind of guy, He’s one of those people who ALWAYS smells good and has great olfaction. Whenever you smell a little like him, he WILL notice, and it always makes his heart flutter, as he stands up a little taller.

He’ll also walk you home from his house, no matter how late it is, and he will always make sure you’ve gone INTO your house, and hears your lock click, before returning.

Never understands why you always make him promise to text you when he gets home though, but he’ll never forget to do it.

Likes to lean on you jokingly, use you as an armrest, regardless of your height.

Whenever Yamaguchi jokes about how he feels like a third wheel, you’ll always joke back that Tsukki is actually the odd one here, cuz you are related haha. He’ll flick your forehead softly as your punishment.

Your pet names are always something endearingly mean, like “Idiot, sodium man, sassy pants, salt shaker 🧂, or four eyes.”

His teammates always tease him about you; honestly, they’re all very surprised that he’s capable of being in a relationship, but they’re happy for him. Daichi always has to shush them all down, because it can get a little out of hand sometimes with all of them bombarding him at once.

Long Term:

Post-honeymoon phase, babyyy.

Space, lots of space. You’re both very independent, and are introverts, so during the day, you’ll do your own thing, but he’ll meet up with you for lunch and dinners to spend some time together, in comfortable silence.

You’ve been leaving a lot of things at his house, so he neatly gathers it all into one corner of his room, so you can access it with ease when you sleep over.

Both your parents became best friends, so they’re totally cool with either of you sleeping over, even when it is a spontaneous decision.

You are comfortable to say “no” to one another, and that includes social gathering as well. If Tsukki is feeling too socially anxious to join you for a party, you’re totally ok with that, and likewise, when his team hangs out, he understands that they can be a little overwhelming sometimes.

But that doesn’t mean that you both don’t try. He mentally take notes of all the times he’s said no, and will only do it at times when he really do not feel like it. And if you ever feel like he’s been a little too distant, he wants you to tell him that directly, so he can avoid coming off that way.

Sass level increases overtime because he knows you can take it, lol.

Would totally do something like this to you, regardless of your height.

If you are smol, he will definitely do this too, and Yams will react the same way as shown. >>>>

You’ve grown immune to his sass, and may have adopted some. However, it’ll usually only come out in arguments. You’re still that nice approachable person, who deliver other people’s messages for him, to him (Because they’re too afraid to approach him directly.)

Definitely opens up to you more, if he hasn’t already been, because he knows he can trust you, and trust is a VERY big thing for him. This boy’s got some trust issues, yk?

He’s a little more adventurous now; it used to be so difficult to convince him to go somewhere new or exciting with you, but after years of pestering him to go places, he realizes, as he’s standing in the middle of a hike, lush green leaves surrounding him from all sides, that maybe this is not so bad after all.

You and Yams keep bringing new activities for him to try, and for 70% percent of those attempts, he actually says yes.

LOVES it when you give head massages, but he always complains that you are messing his hair.

Stargazing after dinner had become a routine for you. You’ll both lay, head to head, bodies the opposite direction, with your fingers interlaced next to each other’s heads. Sometimes, you’ll even drift off into a short nap, and he’s fine with that because your hand feels very nice in his.

Your presence had encouraged him to become closer to his family: you two will help his mother pack up and wipe down the table after dinner, while Akiteru washes the dishes. Sometimes, you’ll wave a curious Akiteru over to join you and Kei on horror movie nights. His mother even joined for 1 whole minute, before she leaves, saying that it’s too scary for her, leaving you three to throw some funny/judgmental remarks at how silly the characters are being.

He’s also a big supporter of your interests, though he will never admit or fully show that he is, if that makes any sense. For instance, if you are in the robotics team, he will educate himself on its process and some technical solutions and will help you build your robot at home. When you ask him how he knows about all this, he just responds with something like “I don’t know, I just guessed.”

If you are interested in something more performative, like if you’re into ballet, for instance, he will always show up to your performances with Yams (and Akiteru, because he really wants to see his future sister-in-law killing it). However, he’ll also respect your decision if you tend to feel more nervous with him there, in that case, he’ll just send you a text that says “You’ll do great. 🦖” or “Don’t fall on your bum 🤡” right before the show begins. It always makes you laugh when you read it in his monotonous voice.

You just know that he only uses emojis when he think his texts sounds unintentionally sarcastic or too short. lol. He’s just not too great at texting, ok?

When it comes to cheering for Tsukki, you share the same type of support. You’d LOVE to go to all of his matches, to be there for him and show how proud you are. But if he’s really uncomfortable, then you understand that too.

He secretly loves it when you go cheer him though, it really brightens up his match, especially when he’s in one with a tougher opponent. To look up to the sea of growing Karasuno supporters and see your smile shine brighter than all the others, restores his energy like the sun.

Somehow, Tanaka and Noya always notices when he turns to look at you, so they’ll both cling on to him like monkeys, turning to wave at you.

You gladly return their gesture, laughing at Tsukki’s miserable face as you pull your phone out to snap a very zoomed in photo of his pained expression to use as his new contact photo LOL.

“At least, I’m the one in a relationship.” He’ll deadpan, adjusting his frames before walking away quietly with a smug smile. RIP Tanaka and Noya, they’re just rolling on the floor crying for Kiyoko haha.

Also, he has this weird fascination for animals? Well, mainly with dinosaurs. BOTH Tsukishima’s has this fascination, it runs deep in their blood. Oh you prefer whales? Too bad, it’s not as cool.

Whenever Kei recommends some dinosaur-related movies, he’ll try to be low key about his excitement, but you can totally tell that, at this very moment, his body feels like a shell that’s trying to contain the vibration of his happiness. Saying no to his suggestion, will only shatter his little heart. You find this incredibly endearing, for a moment, he reminds you of his younger self, where he would always show up to school in his dinosaur T-shirts.

When you agree to watch it with him, Akiteru ALWAYS emerges out of nowhere, and invites himself to join you. You like to jokingly call them Tsukkisaurs, but Kei will be the only Tsukki to have that name saved in your contact.

We also love some asshole Tsukki moment ✨: He likes to call you Godzilla when you are on your period and is feeling bloated. You were a lil offended at first because, WHICH RENDITION OF GODZILLA is he referring to? It better not be the 2014 one, because it looked a little chubbier than the original.

He confirms, without hesitation, that it IS the 2014 rendition, just to piss you off lol. Then he shows you his phone, to confirm that he had you down as Godzilla on his contact, with this image as your profile:

But if you are actually feeling self conscious about your body that day, he will sigh and pull you to his chest. “Idiot, you look just fine to me, the way you are.”

And he meant it.

He may be inclined to appear indifferent and cynical at times, but he KNOWS you can see right through him. The idea of showing vulnerability to anyone at all, was daunting, but you embraced him with so much love and acceptance, he wishes that he’s proven his love for you enough.

And he has, you understand him so well. You appreciate all his subtle signs of affection and thoughtfulness, and you would never ask for it any other way. This is him...it’s who he is to you: your best friend and lover, perfectly imperfect in every way.

———

Taglist (open): @shhhlikeme @ceo-of-daichi @karasu-hoes @super-noya @nonexistent-social-life @scorpiosanssexy @tedwardos

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jenomark · 4 years

Text

AUGUST

➔Pairing: Doyoung x Reader (Female) | Jaehyun x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Plot (ft. smut, romance, angst, fluff etc.) ➔Warnings: Masturbation (M), Mentions of sex & sex sounds, Drinking, Cursing etc. There is also a moment where Doyoung accidentally touches the reader on her hip while she is sleeping and drunk. ➔Word count: 3,318

➔Summary: You are dating handsome and lovable Jaehyun. You stay at his apartment all of the time, along with his roommate Doyoung. Doyoung has feelings for you, which he doesn’t quite understand. What begins as an innocent crush changes the lives of all three people over the course of seven months.

Doyoung could hear Jaehyun having sex. Since the walls were paper thin, little was left to the imagination. At the oddest times of day, the banging would start. Doyoung didn’t wait to hear if it was the bed banging against the wall, or if his roommate was swinging from a secret sex swing somewhere inside of his room. The headphones came on quickly, Doyoung’s nimble fingers pressing play on the latest drama he was watching. During the boring bits, he could hear Jaehyun moaning, followed by a sweet tinkling of laughter that faded as swiftly as it had come. There was always a creaking of a bed, and then the floorboards. It was more or less the same.

Doyoung would then write down a memo on his phone, the same one over and over again, on different dates: Find a new place to live.

“Ahhh,” Doyoung said, his frustration coming out with a gust of breath.

This time, he was exhausted and hoping for some peace and quiet. He turned off the drama he tried watching, and sat on his bed cross-legged. He looked around his room and let himself listen to the sex he wasn’t having. It would embarrass him if Jaehyun knew that he listened, on occasion.

As if I have a choice, Doyoung thought.

Even though he hated hearing it, the sex sounds had come as sort of a comfort. It was his way of knowing Jaehyun was home and safe. After a while, Doyoung hadn’t gotten so used to it that he was numb to it. It was weird to admit, but he had gotten to know Jaehyun so intimately that he could practically count the seconds until Jaehyun came.

1, 2, 3, 4.

He waited, but there was nothing. Doyoung uncrossed his legs and swung them over his bed. There was no gruff climax, no relaxed creaking of a bed. No soft music filtering underneath the door, the music making Doyoung long for a relationship. There was complete silence. Doyoung got up from his bed, his slippered feet sliding along the wood. In his mind, he was anxious about something having happened. He kept trying to convince himself that something wasn’t wrong with Jaehyun, that he didn’t have a stroke mid-,well, stroke.

That’s when he heard it for the first time: your voice. Your moans were loud and free. They poured into Doyoung’s room, overflowing down his walls and laying at his feet. He was soaked with it. He stood in the middle of his room listening, his heart beating faster and faster in his chest. He was aroused by your harmony, and it shamed him how easy it was for him to reach into his pants and touch himself. The louder you got, the faster he went, stroking the length of his cock while standing, his knees wanting to buckle and drown.

It was wrong of him, he knew. You were the girl Jaehyun was dating. Nothing too serious, Jaehyun had said. Though Doyoung knew you were always in the room with Jaehyun, you were like a complete entity. He didn’t like to think about you in any capacity, and yet there you were, getting fucked so good that the whole apartment building could hear. What kept Doyoung going was the jealousy taking root in his veins. He wanted to be the one on the other side of door with you. He wanted to know what you looked like when you came, how sweet your smile was afterwards as you laid in a puddle of your own desire. He fought those feelings by telling himself you would be gone like all the other girls before you, but like with everything, Doyoung was very wrong.

Doyoung came in his hands. He felt sticky and gross. He wiped his sweat with the back of his free arm. You were still going, still giving the best vocal show of your life. He cleaned himself up and didn’t notice when you had stopped. Doyoung walked out of his bedroom, and at the same time, you walked out of Jaehyun’s, his basketball shorts hanging from your waist, and your facial expression too chipper. Even though it was dark in the living room, you glowed. You were getting ready to greet him, to be the best guest you could be. Doyoung didn’t say anything, just kept his head down and kept moving.

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Doyoung was so tired that he had fallen asleep on the train, only to be woken up by a toddler offering him his spit-covered toy. Walking the last few blocks home had felt like he was trudging through hell, so when he made his way through the door, a weight felt like it was lifted from his body. Home was always the place Doyoung felt most comfortable.

After sticking his key in the door and turning the lock, he could hear his bed calling his name. Or maybe it was an illusion due to lack of sleep. Doyoung felt the smile curve his lips. Being so far gone that he was imagining things was another thing he had to tick off his imaginary list of things that made him crazy. He kicked his work shoes off in the hallway and tried hard to keep his eyes open. He didn’t bother turning any of the lights on, just found his room by touching along walls.

When he made it into his room, he could hear the soft ticking of his bedside clock. He pulled his shirt over his head, peeled back the covers and got into his bed. A shower could wait. Food could wait. All he could think about was falling asleep for the next twelve hours, dreaming of touching soft mounds of flesh and warmth. He dreamed of caressing a woman’s breasts, of holding her so close he could smell faint whiffs of her sweet, natural scent. It had been a long time since he had someone to touch and to hold. It almost felt too real to him. This woman, this perfect being, held his hands and kept him sane. Though he wasn’t the softest of men, he dreamed of romance and marriage, a little house with kids running around.

Hearing a whimper that definitely didn’t belong in his dream, Doyoung’s eyes shot open. He was fully awake now. He saw the outline of a very real figure laying next to him on his bed, his fingers intertwined with theirs. You were not a dream. His other hand was resting on your hip, which he drew back immediately. His pelvis was so close against your body, that if you moved back, you’d feel all he had to offer. He could tell it was you by how fast his heart was racing, and by the sheer lust he pushed deep down whenever he saw you. You moved and sighed and whispered Jaehyun’s name, and not his.

This cannot happen, he thought.

“No, stop.” Doyoung said out loud, flipping himself off his bed, taking the blankets down with him.

He flicked on his light and saw you laying in his bed, swimming in Jaehyun’s clothes. You were staring blankly, your eyes having trouble focusing on one thing. You stretched, your shirt climbing up your stomach. He could make out a little mole just underneath your breast. Doyoung looked away. His gaze was furious.

“Why are you in my bed?” he asked.

“Why are you yelling at me?” you asked back, placing your hand against your forehead. “Where is Jaehyun?”

Doyoung peeked and saw that you had pulled your shirt down. You were sitting up in Doyoung’s bed and looking around, your eyes taking in his belongings but not really seeing them. You looked lost, like you yourself couldn’t figure out how you had gotten there, among the plants and paintings. When you looked back up at him, you looked so helpless that Doyoung felt sympathy for you.

“Have you been drinking?” he asked.

You nodded. “I wanted to celebrate with my boyfriend, but where is he?”

“Where is he?” Doyoung asked. “You don’t remember? You should learn to drink more responsibly.”

You got up from his bed, stumbled, and tried apologizing profusely for being irresponsible. The words that came out of your mouth were jumbled all together, a big mix of information Doyoung didn’t need to know. He pushed you back onto his bed and told you to wait there. He walked briskly across the apartment living room, flicking on lights as he went. He didn’t make it far in finding Jaehyun. His roommate was passed out on the couch, with his shirt off and a sealed condom clutched in his fist.

Mental memo: Find a new place to live.

Doyoung went back into his bedroom. You were sound asleep, your hands tucked between your knees, and your head resting on Doyoung’s stuffed penguin. He silently cursed the situation, picked up his blanket and placed it on your body so that you wouldn’t get cold. He grabbed a pillow from his bed and a spare blanket from the hallway closet. He made camp on his hardwood floor, his computer resting on his lap. Every so often, he would check on you to make sure you were alright.

The very next day, you were too embarrassed to look him directly in the eye when you apologized. Doyoung found it cute how hard it was for you to talk to him. He was basking in it too much, really gloating and living in it. He debated with himself whether he should tell you that his back hurt from sleeping on the floor. Deep down, he wanted you to pity him, to take care of him like he took care of you.

“Give her a break,” Jaehyun said, grabbing an apple from the refrigerator and tearing a long chunk with his teeth. “We got a little carried away with the wine.”

To Jaehyun, it wasn’t a big deal. If a girl was in his bed, he would be thankful for the intrusion. For Doyoung, it felt like some kind of violation of privacy. In your drunken state, you could have rummaged through his personal belongings and found things he didn’t want anyone to see.

“Don’t you ever get drunk?” Jaehyun asked, his attention solely on the apple he was eating. He didn’t care anymore. The situation was past him.

Doyoung had never gotten so drunk that he’d accidentally slept in someone else’s bed. He was always so careful about those things.

“Not much.” Doyoung said.

He couldn’t get the image of Jaehyun and the condom out of his mind. He shuddered to think of what he would have walked in on had you and Jaehyun not gotten so shitfaced. Doyoung was busy thinking about how you had managed to find your way to his room without realizing, when you spoke.

“I’m really sorry,” you said. “I don’t usually behave like that. I had a good day at work and I just wanted to celebrate with my boyfriend. It won’t happen again. Doyoung, I promise.”

His bed smelled of you. He went into his room to clean his sheets and your scent clung to them, so he didn’t wash them. He didn’t tell Jaehyun he had accidentally touched your hip and held your hand. He didn’t even know if you remembered it. He felt there should be an apology from him slipped in there somewhere, but he was waiting for the right moment.

“It’s okay,” Doyoung said. “Mistakes happen.”

Jaehyun put his hands on your shoulders and smiled. A peck on your cheek followed. He put on his best mock-stern voice and said, “Just don’t let it happen again, young lady.”

You smiled, but the smile didn’t reach your eyes. You made eye contact for the first time with Doyoung and didn’t waiver.

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“Come watch this movie with us,” Jaehyun said. “It’s one of those nerdy sci-fi movies you like.”

“I’ll pass,” Doyoung said. “I’ve had a long day.”

“What better way to relax,” you said. “We ordered food, too.”

You walked out from Jaehyun’s bedroom in his bath robe. Your hair was messy, but you looked pretty. Your legs were bare, and your collarbone was peeking out from between the fabric. It took him a moment to realize you were naked underneath the robe, and in that moment, you had managed to understand exactly what Doyoung was thinking. You smirked and sat down next to Jaehyun, your eyes sparkling in Doyoung’s direction.

“There is plenty of room.” Jaehyun said, patting the couch next to him.

Doyoung wasn’t expecting you, but you being there wasn’t that much of a surprise anymore. You had been there a lot since you and Jaehyun started seeing each other, popping up to offer insight and fresh greetings like you belonged there. Doyoung had begun to notice your toothbrush and other belongings appearing here and there. Your smell was everywhere.The week previous, he had found one of your hairs wound around his big toe.

“You’ll have to excuse me tonight,” Doyoung said. “I have work to finish.”

Doyoung went into the kitchen to grab himself something quick to eat before he vanished into his bedroom. Jaehyun came over and leaned over the counter, his smile as relaxed as always. He picked at the food Doyoung was throwing together, using his charm and handsome face to get away with it. Doyoung was tired, but he wasn’t in the mood to be combative.

Jaehyun leaned in further and whispered, “Can I talk to you about something?”

Doyoung leaned in slightly. Jaehyun looked over at you sitting on the couch, your attention on the television. As comfortable as you seemed in their living space, Doyoung kept a note of how much you still tip-toed around him whenever he was home. He didn’t understand why you did that . He was afraid you were scared of him after finding you in his bed. He wasn’t exactly the friendliest towards you, which was something he felt he would regret.

“What is it?” Doyoung asked.

“I was thinking of breaking up with her,” Jaehyun said. “I need your advice.”

Doyoung kept his eyes trained on you. He was speechless. You and Jaehyun got along well. You had sex so much that Doyoung had to buy a better pair of headphones to fully block out the sound. You rarely fought, from what Doyoung could see, and from what Jaehyun talked about. Jaehyun always had nice things to say about you, and there were a lot of times Doyoung would describe the union as a perfect relationship. Jaehyun wanting out seemed like he was doing so because he was bored, but Doyoung knew it wasn’t his place to say so. Still, he had a hard time keeping the annoyance out of his voice.

“Why?” Doyoung asked, his voice cracking. “Don’t you think it’s too soon?”

Jaehyun narrowed his eyes for a minute. He said, “Too soon? We’re both just having fun. It was never anything serious. She’s still a really nice girl, and I like her a lot.”

“Are you breaking up with her right now?” Doyoung asked. “Don’t you think that’s irresponsible and, quite frankly, a fucked up thing to do?”

You looked back at them and smiled. Doyoung and Jaehyun parted. To Doyoung, it was far too obvious what was going on, but he didn’t think you had caught on. Jaehyun shot Doyoung a “what the hell do you know?” glance, which infuriated Doyoung. He may have not been the master of dating, but he understood right from wrong. The way Jaehyun was treating you made his body grow hot. He wanted to fight on your behalf, or at least tell you what was going to happen before it broke your heart.

“Come watch the movie with me,” you called. “It’s beginning.”

Doyoung looked at Jaehyun who, by the looks of it, no longer wanted Doyoung to join them. Doyoung closed his eyes and opened them. He found himself moving to the couch and sitting on one side of you. Jaehyun plopped down on the other side, his hand taking yours and holding it. Doyoung could feel his thigh against yours. Flashes of you laying his bed clouded his mind. You looked over at him and smiled, your face kind. You deserved better.

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Jaehyun didn’t decide to break up with you. By the sounds of it, he had decided to fuck you as loudly and as much as humanly possible. Doyoung held his headphones to his ears and closed his eyes as tight as he could, but images of the pair of you going at each other like rabid animals wouldn’t leave his mind. It wasn’t until Doyoung fell asleep that he felt some peace.

Some time in the early morning, he woke up because his throat was dry. After a coughing fit, Doyoung opened his door to grab a glass of water. At the same time, you opened Jaehyun’s bedroom door. Both you and Doyoung stopped in your tracks and stared at each other from opposite ends of the living room.

“I’m just getting some water.” Doyoung whispered.

He could hear Jaehyun snoring loudly through the open door. You shut the bedroom door softly and crossed the space faster than Doyoung. You stood in his way so that he couldn’t grab a cup from the cabinet.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” you asked.

“What? Me? No?” Doyoung said.

His ears were red and hot. You were so close to him that you could just reach out and touch him if you wanted to and he would do nothing about it. There was so much sexual tension on his part that he felt it would shatter every window in the apartment.

“I know Jaehyun was thinking about breaking up with me,” you said. “And I know you were pissed off on my behalf.”

“I don’t know what you’re talk-”

“-Doyoung,” you interrupted. “It’s okay. Jaehyun and I talked about it. We’re figuring things out. Our relationship is..different.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Doyoung asked.

“Because I wanted to thank you,” you said. “For everything. You let me stay here sometimes without complaining. I know it must bother you. You give me these looks sometimes and I’m scared you hate me, but then there are times your features are so soft and sweet when you see me. I think you have a good heart.”

Doyoung didn’t know what to say. You moved out of the way so that he could grab a cup and get his drink of water, but he couldn’t move. He breathed your scent in deeply and turned to face you. So many thoughts were fighting to make it up to the surface of his mind.

“I have something to apologize to you for,” he began. “And before I do, I want you to know that it was never my intention to take advantage of you. I thought I was dreaming. I’ve felt bad about it ever since, but when you were drunk and in my bed, I..touched you very inappropriately, on your hip. I also held your hand. If you want to slap me, you can. If you want to do other things from a legal perspective, I understand and I support your decision.”

He would have kept going if you didn’t touch your finger to his. You hooked them together and swung them back and forth. Doyoung was suddenly transported back to a time when he was young and would get little crushes on the neighborhood girls.

“It’s okay,” you said. "Mistakes happen, right?”

You and Doyoung heard a noise coming from Jaehyun’s bedroom. You held his gaze a little too long before walking back to the bedroom for the night. Before you went inside, you turned around to get one last look at Doyoung before you were swallowed by the darkness.

#doyoung #kim doyoung #jaehyun #jung jaehyun #nct #nct 127 #doyoung fanfiction #jaehyun fanfiction #doyoung smut #jaehyun smut #nct smut #nct fanfiction #nct angst #nct fluff #doyoung angst #doyoung fluff #jaehyun angst #jaehyun fluff

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just-jordie-things · 4 years

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Unspoken Thing - JJ Maybank

word count: 2671 warnings: swearing summary: JJ and (y/n) have been in love since they were kids, yet never acted on their feelings. But as they get older jealousy starts to seep into their ‘perfect’ friendship request: @sarcastic-space-weirdo: oooh can i please have jealous y/n thinking jj likes kiara and not her (she's oNe Of tHE bOyZz of course way more than kiara) but it was actually his intention just to divert(??)from the fact that he actually REAAAALLLY likes ₕᵤₕ ₕᵤₘ ₗₒᵥₑₛ y/n and doesn't want her to know or he's just dumb and a simp and doesn't know how to deal with his feelings?? so he frEAKING AVOIDS THE GIRL CAUSE IT'S TOO FREAKING MUCH AND MY BOY DOESN'T KNOW WHAT'S HAPPENING ᵢₜ'ₛ ₗₒᵥₑ (also pls some angsty people crying) (a/n): its not as angsty as it could have been but it’s still there lol ___

It wasn’t really a secret that (y/n) had a thing for JJ. From day one it had been fairly obvious, to the Pogues and most of the island, really.

The pair had been inseparable since they’d met in grade school. She’d met him their first day of kindergarden. Some Kook kid was picking on him, and she thought it was mean.

So she’d marched up to the kid and smacked him on top of the head, before telling him to back off. And just like that, her and JJ were attached at the hip.

They were fiercely protective of each other, so much so that all common sense went out the window when one of them was in any trouble. But that’s how it always was.

Sometime in high school things changed. (y/n) couldn’t quite pinpoint when it was, she just remembered that one day they were best friends who surfed together and smoked together, and the next they were best friends who shared a bed most nights and some of those nights she’d wake up and be in his arms.

Over time, they both became more affectionate. Casual touches began to linger, normal nicknames turned flirty, and eventually neither of them could sleep well if they weren’t together.

(y/n) was certain that JJ didn’t know when things changed either, but it never really mattered. There was always an unspoken understanding that there was something more than friendship between them. They weren’t in a relationship, he wasn’t her boyfriend, but there was still something there.

Clearly, she should have clarified what they were before blindly assuming that he felt the same unspoken thing she did.

Because it really sucked to see him flirt with Kiara.

John B’s arm nudged into her ribcage, drawing her out of her thoughts and back to reality.

The Pogues had gone down to the beach to hang out. The tides weren’t great today so surfing was pretty much out of the question, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t picnic and smoke still.

Kiara had been wading around in the water, admiring the little fish and the shells she’d find, and JJ had all-too-excitedly followed her to help.

(y/n) hadn’t cared- of course she didn’t care, they were friends, and she was not the jealous type. Jealousy could get toxic, and JJ wasn’t hers in the first place, so there were no grounds for her to be upset.

John B still noticed.

“What?” She asked, turning to look at him.

She wasn’t as appreciative of his knowing look as he thought she’d be.

“What, John B?” She asked, slightly annoyed.

His eyes wandered out to where JJ and Kiara were standing, a bit too close. Just a bit.

(y/n) followed his line of sight, but quickly shut her mouth and stared back down at her feet.

Her and John B had been lying around, soaking up the sun and just enjoying the silence between them. But now he’d gone and ruined the good vibe.

“Come on, (y/n/n)” He said, nudging her ribs again.

She swatted his hand away.

“I don’t know what your problem is” She mumbled, pretending to be oblivious.

John B rolled his eyes.

He’d been friends with both (y/n) and JJ for a long time now, almost as long as they’d been friends with each other. So he knew well enough how stubborn the pair were when it came to admitting their feelings.

“Why don’t you guys just call it what it is?” He asked, but (y/n) didn’t respond. She just sat and stared at her lap. “You both obviously don’t want to see other people-”

“Obvious, huh?” She retorted, glancing back at where JJ and Kiara were laughing and kicking water at each other.

Cute.

(y/n) grimaced.

She turned back at John B, a helpless look in her eyes. He frowned at her.

“You know JJ doesn’t like Kie-”

“Do I? Do I know that?” She asked. She wasn’t trying to annoy him, but she was just so frustrated with herself that she ended up taking it out on him. “I’m sorry, it’s just- it sucks. Cause I- I just thought…”

She trailed off, not wanting to admit what she thought to him. It was embarrassing, thinking someone was all yours when in reality that wasn’t true at all.

“It doesn’t matter,” She mumbled. “He’s not mine, and I’m not his”

John B’s frown deepened, and he slid a little closer to her. She looked back at him, a bit confused, but when he held his hand out to her, she melted, and gave in.

She took his hand and rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes so that she didn’t have to watch Kiara and JJ having a blast.

“He’s just being stupid,” John B reassured quietly. “He doesn’t even know it, that’s how stupid he is”

(y/n) giggled, squeezing his hand gently.

“He is pretty stupid, huh?” She mumbled back.

“Very much so. But you know how much he cares about you, it’s clear that he’s, yaknow, in love with you,”

She didn’t say anything, but John B knew that she understood him.

“He doesn’t know how to say it, that’s all. JJ’s not good with his words, you know that”

“Yeah, I know” (y/n) whispered, starting to feel tired from being in the sun all day and now half-laying on John B.

“You better know, you’re the one who trained him” John B teased.

She laughed, properly now, lifting her head to smack him gently in the chest. He hit her back, starting a small fight, before eventually she gave in and surrendered.

It was getting late in the day, and with all the pining and the heat, she was just ready to go back to the Chateau, have a big meal, and then pass out on the sofa. That way she wouldn’t have to wake up to JJ crawling into bed with her. She’s not sure she can spend the night with him tonight.

“I think I’m gonna head out,” She said with a small yawn. “I bet Pope’s made something for dinner and I wanna get back before it’s cold”

“Alright,” John B said, watching her stand up and grab her towel and backpack. “Would you rather go to The Wreck?” He asked as an afterthought.

“Right now?” She asked him, following his eyes as he stood up with her.

“Sure, we can get some food and then head home” He shrugged.

“Aright” (y/n) shrugged back.

She liked calling John B’s place home, because that’s what it was. Since his Uncle T pretty much moved out, it’s just been him, her and JJ, and it’s been great. She hated staying at home where her parents were always preoccupied with anything that wasn’t her, and JJ would probably never stay at home again, so it was perfect.

Her and John B left the beach together, deciding to just walk into town so they could talk more. It wasn’t often that they got one on one time, and he was probably her best friend, so it was nice.

Plus, she hadn’t been able to talk about her feelings for JJ this much before, and he really helped her figure out what to do about their little situation.

There were some tears, some laughter, as she tried her best to explain what she’d been feeling, but John B was there to hug her tight and remind her that her feelings for JJ were definitely reciprocated, even if he was a dumbass sometimes.

Maybe some of his advice was… boy-ish, but it was advice nonetheless. And she didn’t get it anywhere else. ___

When JJ went back to the Chateau, he couldn’t deny that a small part of him was pretty fucking pissed off with John B.

Alright, it was a large part of him. He was just about fuming when he went inside, ready to fight his best friend if he had to. He didn’t want to, but he felt he was left with no other choice after the stunt he’d pulled.

What he found when he barged into the house instead, was (y/n).

She was curled up on the sofa, in her bikini and one of JJ’s shirts she’d stolen so long ago it was pretty much hers now. If he asked her about it, she probably wouldn’t even remember that it was his first.

The sight made him soften for a moment, and for a moment, he completely forgot about his anger. She looked so peaceful, like a little armadillo, it made him smile.

He wandered into the living room to grab one of John B’s throw blankets, so that she’d keep warm as she napped. But as soon as he’d grabbed the blanket, John B himself came into the room, and JJ’s anger came back again.

“You son of a bitch-!” He yelled, but was just as quickly shushed by John B, who pointed at (y/n’s) sleeping self.

“Let’s go outside” John B said, already walking out to the porch, JJ right on his heel.

As soon as the door opened, he was yelling again.

“You knew I liked her, you knew I-”

“Hold on-” John B put a hand up, his brows furrowed in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about dude?”

“(y/n), obviously!” JJ said, smacking John B upside the head.

“Hey-”

“What the fuck were you thinking? Flirting with her like that-”

“Okay, jesus, calm down,” John B groaned. “I wasn’t flirting with her, for one, we were hanging out, because we’re friends. And secondly, you were off all day with Kiara!”

JJ frowned at the accusation, even though it was a fair one.

“And if you had even an ounce of common sense, you would have realized how upset you made (y/n) today, but how could you notice when you were the one flirting with another girl?”

That hit him hard, he didn’t even know what to say.

But all of the jealousy fades away when he realizes what John B was telling him. He’d made her jealous today, while he was trying to avoid his feelings all together.

“So what were you thinking?” John B asked. “You know she’s in love with you man, and I know you love her too, so why would you-”

“I didn’t know what to do,” JJ answered lamely, before John B could even finish. “I know that we’re something, but I don’t know what, and I don’t know what to do about it and… and I thought maybe it’d just be best if she didn’t like me anymore…”

“What the fuck?”

Both boys jumped, not having heard (y/n) approach, but there she was on the other side of the screen door. She’d wrapped the blanket JJ had dropped on her around her shoulders, and she was staring at the blonde boy with a hurt expression.

John B cringed, opening the door to let her out on the porch, but she stayed on the doorstep.

“Why would you think that?” She murmured.

“I…” JJ opened his mouth to speak, but no real words came out. He ended up gaping like a fish out of water.

“I’m gonna give you guys some space” John B said, quickly sliding past (y/n) in an attempt to get out of the awkward moment as fast as possible.

(y/n) stepped outside, shutting the door behind her as she stared at JJ.

“I can’t do this anymore,” She admitted before she could chicken out. “I can’t do this whole ‘what are we’ game anymore, I didn’t care before but- but I do now,” Her eyes meet his, on the verge of tears in fear that he’s going to end this before it could even begin. “And I guess how you really feel about me,”

She blinks the tears out of her eyes as best as she can, her hands holding tighter to the blanket around her, and she hopes- no- prays that he doesn’t end it.

“What are we, JJ?” She whispers out.

He looks at her, really looks at her, and he feels heartbroken, because she looks heartbroken. It hits him how badly he fucked up today, and how he really let her down. But this is his chance to fix it, and finally decide what they meant to each other.

And he took that chance.

He stepped forward, closing the space between them and taking her face in his hands.

Her eyes blow wide as she looks up at him, surprised by the action. It had been years of playing this game, of dancing this dance, and finally, he’d made a move.

“You’re mine” He said softly, surely. It was the one fact they’d both known their whole lives.

She smiled back at him, before leaning up on the tips of her toes to meet him halfway in a sweet kiss.

His lips were warm, and chapped, but soft, and everything she’d always expected them to feel like. It hardly felt like a first kiss, it felt like she’d been kissing him all this time.

And she sure wished she had been, because damn she was missing out.

As she wrapped her arms around his neck, the blanket she’d been wearing like a cape fell from her shoulders, landing in a pile on the porch.

They were oblivious to their friends in the window, gawking at them, and exchanging money from bets they’d made years ago.

When they parted, JJ caught sight of them, but with a quick glare and a shooing motion, they were out of sight.

(y/n) turned to see what he’d been looking at, but his hands reached for her waist, bringing her attention back to him as soon as his hands met her bare skin.

She grinned at him, hands sliding around his neck before smoothing over his shoulders.

“No more flirting with John B, alright?” He asked, and (y/n) chuckled.

“I don’t recall ever flirting with John B,” She told him. “I do recall you ditching me all day…”

She was only messing with him, but the smirk on her face was intoxicating.

“Make a deal with me?” He asked, holding his hand out towards her.

She grinned back at him, waiting for him to continue.

“Not ignore what’s between us anymore?” He asked, quietly, like he was nervous, but it made her smile even wider, and placed her hand in his.

“Deal, Maybank,” She murmured, before grabbing her blanket from the ground. “Now come on, I’m tired, let’s go to bed”

Like a dog, he beamed as he followed close behind her into the Chateau.

“Bed huh?” He asked, a little too eager.

“Calm down, blondie,” (y/n) giggled as he excitedly shut the guest room door behind them. “I’m exhausted, we’re going to sleep”

She crawled into bed, not caring that she hadn’t changed into pajamas. It had been a long day, and she wanted nothing more than to doze off in his arms.

“That’s fine, I love sleeping,” JJ replied, following her into bed, and quickly hastily pulling her into his arms. She giggled again as he caged her in tightly against his chest. “Sleeping is the best, it’s one of my favorite things to do-”

“Alright, hon, I get it” She said, wiggling out of his firm clutch to rest more comfortably.

Her head rested against his chest as her arms wound around his torso. JJ let his hands wander a little further down her back than usual, but no one was complaining.

“You wanna go on a date tomorrow?” He mumbled into her hair, already feeling tired just from her holding him.

Her hand fisted into the material of the back of his tee shirt as she nodded.

“Where d’you wanna go?”

“I dunno. The Wreck?”

“Hm,” She hummed. “Or we can just go smoke on the beach”

“Fuck, I’m so in love with you, you’re my dream girl”

___

xoxo ~ jordie

#outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank scenario #jj maybank fanfiction

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hailperseusjackson · 3 years

Text

Fanfic: hey brother

here is the hera and howzer bonding fic that nobody asked for, but refused to leave my head anyway! @milf-herasyndulla , this one is for you bestie <33

fandom: the bad batch

rating: gen

warnings: none (some minor discussions of death, but nothing explicit)

wordcount: 2k

you can also read here on ao3!

Hera sat with her legs tucked up to her chest, one arm across her knees, the other halfheartedly poking a stick into the fire. Hitting a spot that shifted some of the coals, she watched glowing orange sparks dance into the air, bright against the star-filled night sky.

The one good thing about this new base—the rocky outcropping had a great view.

She could hear voices and equipment being moved around in the hangar behind her, and laughter floated to her from the other side of the outcropping, where a few other Twi’leks and clones were taking a break. With her father gone on another scouting mission, she knew she should be helping her mother hand out rations and supplies inside the base. But she was sick of handing out food and blankets. She knew it was important—every little bit counted, her mother often reminded her. And it was their job to help those in need.

And Hera wanted to help. But she wanted to do it out there. She wanted to fly. Or fight, or do something besides stay in the shelter of this base.

She felt helpless. And the last time she’d felt like this—no.

She squeezed her eyes shut, blacking out the stars and the glow of Ryloth’s moons as she inhaled deeply. She wasn’t going to think about that day. But the tightness in her chest didn’t ease, and she could feel her eyes starting to burn.

In through the nose, out through the mouth, slowly. In and out, she breathed. When her shoulders felt lighter again, she opened her eyes, focusing on the first star she could pick out on the horizon.

“Hey, kid.”

Hera tried not to scowl at the familiar voice sounding behind her. Whoever said all clones sounded the same clearly hadn’t spent enough time around them. She would recognize Howzer’s low, gentle tone blindfolded.

Sure enough, when she turned her head, the clone captain was taking a seat next to her, leaning back against the wall of the outcropping. His helmet was off, and the longer curls on top of his head stirred in the slight breeze.

“Hi,” she responded, a little more sulkily than she’d meant to. She buried her chin into the crook of her arm, trying to hide her frustrated frown. Ever since the day of the attack a couple months ago, her parents were checking on her constantly. And they’d definitely told Hozwer to do the same, because he came to see how she was doing at least once a day when he wasn’t out on the front lines. And he always spoke in that gentle voice, like he was trying not to spook a wounded blurrg.

“Hungry?” Howzer asked, offering her a ration bar.

“Nope.”

“Suit yourself.” His armor creaked as he shrugged his shoulders. “More for me then.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, Howzer chewing quietly beside her.

Hera sighed.

Relenting, because she actually was hungry, she said, “What kind do you have?”

“Just the boring regular ones, unfortunately. But I do have half a chocolate bar left, if you’d rather have that.”

Hera turned her eyes on him. “Really?”

Howzer gave her a little smile, the motion tugging at the scars on his jaw and chin. “Won it off Skipper in a game of Sabaac. Already took a couple bites out of it, so I hope you don’t mind.”

She shook her head and took the chocolate from Howzer’s outstretched hand. She took a bite, humming as the sweetness coated her tongue. “Thanks,” she mumbled.

“Sure thing, kid.”

“Don’t call me that.” When he called her kid it made her feel like he was trying to be her brother. But she didn’t need another brother. She had a brother, and he was perfect, and he was—

Gone. He was gone.

The chocolate suddenly tasted bitter in her mouth.

“Sorry, Hera,” Howzer replied, in that same, stupid quiet tone. Like if he spoke any louder he would scare her or break her or something. “Say, where’s that droid of yours? Some of the boys were saying he ran over their toes earlier for calling Y-Wings shitty ships—oh, kriff—oh, no, I mean—shoot. Uh. I meant bad ships…”

She barely heard Howzer stumble over his words. It was automatic as she said, “Needed his power cells recharged.”

“Ah, gotcha.” A pause. Then, “Hera? You all right?”

She shot to her feet, dropping the chocolate and glaring at the captain. “Stop talking to me like that! I’m so sick of everyone treating me like I’m just a little kid who can’t handle anything!”

A few nearby Twi’leks paused what they were doing to stare, but Hera didn’t care.

Howzer raised his hands in surrender, but didn’t get to his feet. “Hera—”

She pressed on, cheeks hot. “I’m sure my mom sent you up here to talk to me and make me feel better or whatever, well guess what. I’m a big girl and I can forget about what happened just like they did. No more dead brother if we don’t talk about him, right?”

Silence.

She vaguely saw Howzer wave off any onlookers, barely heard the crackling of the fire or bustle of the camp past the roaring of blood in her ears.

It was suddenly hard to breathe, which reminded her all too much of that dusty caved in cavern after her father’s last base of operation had been shelled by Seperatists. She still remembered how hoarse her voice had gotten as she’d screamed for help, screamed for her brother when she spotted one of his shoes next to a giant pile of boulders blocking an exit tunnel. Her brother had been nowhere in sight.

Hours later, after Commander Ponds’ and Captain Howzer’s units had rescued the survivors and gone through all the rubble, she’d seen the limp body of her little brother cradled in her father’s arms. When she’d heard her mother scream—a wailing, broken sound Hera had heard before on Ryloth during the war, but never from her own mother—that’s when she’d known.

Since that day, maybe four months ago now, her parents had barely uttered a word about it. It was like her brother had never existed.

“Hera.” Howzer’s voice floated to her through the haze of memories. It was that same gentle tone, but it was—clearer, somehow.

It worked. Her anger flowed away like water down a mountainside. In its place—an aching sadness.

Tears sprang to her eyes, hot and burning. She slumped back down to the ground, once again tucking her knees up and crossing her arms on top. Forehead falling against her folded arms, she started to cry.

For a moment, there was nothing except the echo of her sobs down into the canyon.

Then, Howzer placed a hand on her shoulder. He gave a comforting squeeze before letting go. “I’m not trying to replace your brother, you know,” he said quietly. “I know it might feel like it, me checking in on you and all. But I’m doing it because I care. Not because your parents are making me.”

She sniffled, wiping the back of her hand across her nose and lifting her head. “They didn’t ask you to come check on me?”

Howzer shook his head. “Nope. I’m just checking in on my friend. We are friends, right?”

Hera wiped at her tears some more, and smiled. “Yeah. We’re friends.”

“Then here.” Howzer reached over and picked up the remainder of the chocolate bar she’d dropped. He dusted it off as best he could, before giving up and breaking off the part with dirt on it. “The last little bit was inside the wrapper, so it should be fine.”

She took it gratefully, popping the last bite in her mouth, and giving Howzer a quizzical look as he opened his own mouth to eat the rest.

“What?” he shrugged. “A little dirt never hurt anyone.”

She giggled. He grinned back at her, eating the chocolate with only a slight grimace on his face.

For a few minutes, they sat in comfortable silence. Hera started poking at the fire with her stick again, trying to get rid of the sadness in her body through sheer force of will.

Suddenly, Howzer said, “I’ve lost brothers, too.”

Hera turned her head to look at him. He suddenly looked much older than he ever had before. The sadness on his face seemed to match the sadness she felt on the inside. She scooted back, copying his posture and leaning against the wall.

“You have a lot of brothers, though.”

One corner of his mouth twitched, like he wanted to smile. But his eyes stayed fixed on the sky. “I do have a lot of brothers, yeah. But losing one doesn’t mean he’s replaced with another. We’re all different. So when I lose a brother, it hurts just as bad every time. Worse, sometimes, because I’m their captain. I’m supposed to protect them, and it hurts when I can’t.”

Hera looked up at the sky like Howzer, thinking about that. She only had one brother, and it hurt more than anything ever had before to lose him. She couldn’t imagine having to feel that kind of hurt and sorrow the way Howzer did every time one of his brothers died.

Digging into the inside pocket of her jacket, she pulled out a multicolored bracelet made of woven leather. She studied it in her palm for a moment, blinking away the memory of her mother gingerly taking it off her brother’s wrist so Hera could have it.

“Here,” she whispered, tapping his arm. “I want you to have this.”

He reached for the bracelet, then hesitated. “What is it?”

“It was my brother’s. I made it for him.”

“I—I can’t take that, Hera. It’s too important to you.”

“But you’re important to me, too,” she insisted. “My brother will live forever on our Kalikori, so I want you to have this.”

Still, Howzer hesitated. “But—why?”

Hera grabbed his hand and dropped the leather bracelet into his palm. “Because we both know what it’s like to lose a brother. This is a reminder that we still have each other. Right?”

Howzer stared at the bracelet, then at her. She swore she saw tears shining in his eyes as he smiled at her. “Right.”

She helped him secure the bracelet below the armor plate on his forearm, where it would stay safe.

Hera leaned her head against Howzer’s shoulder. “Sorry for yelling at you.”

“Apology accepted. And I’m sorry, too—I need to be better about reminding myself that just because you’re a kid doesn’t mean you can’t handle yourself.”

“You know what would really make it up to me?”

“Hm?”

She tilted her chin up at him, grinning. “Taking me flying.”

Howzer chuckled. “Oh, absolutely not. Your parents didn’t send me to come talk to you, but they would most certainly have my shebs for that.”

“Ugh, fine.” She jutted out her bottom lip in a pout.

“Maybe one day, vod’ika,” he promised. Hera wasn’t sure what that last word meant, but it sounded nice.

“I’m gonna be the best pilot in the whole galaxy one day,” she told him earnestly, leaning her head back against his shoulder.

“I bet you will, kid.”

This time, she didn’t bother correcting him when he called her kid.

Maybe, if Howzer could have more than one brother, she could too.

#my writing #my fic #i just think they'd be besties okay #hera syndulla #captain howzer #tbb #swr #fanfic #writing #star wars

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glacecakes · 3 years

Text

Slowly Led up From the Deep

Despite what anyone else (Lance) said, Eugene wasn’t a mother hen. He wasn’t! There was a distinct difference between being cautious and prepared for the worst due to living on the streets, and mother henning the shit out of everyone.

(“You mother hen the shit out of everyone,” Lance would say. “And I’m a dad. With the same past as you.”)

Case in point: Varian.

(Or: the Baron tries to kidnap Varian to get back at Eugene.)

Weeee another project! This one is a lil different tho Basically I have ideas for four (maybe more? Debating whether or not to expand to 7) angst oneshots with each oneshot pertaining to an element. So this is water, I have a plan for earth, air, fire if I decide to go thru with this. Poor Varian, sorry not sorry

(“You mother hen the shit out of everyone,” Lance would say. “And I’m a dad. With the same past as you.”)

Case in point: Varian. Following the events of… well, yknow, life , Eugene was a bit nervous about letting the kid out of his sight. After all, he got kidnapped, drugged, assaulted, imprisoned, and flung out a tower. And that was all in one day! So excuse him for being concerned about his friend's health. The guy had a death wish, and clearly someone had to watch over him or else he would die from falling, or forgetting to sleep, or setting himself on fire, and then Eugene would have a very angry beef-tittied man at his throat.

Since his redemption, Varian had quickly weaseled his way into the man’s heart, not unlike how Rapunzel did. He’d always wanted a younger sibling as a kid, and Varian fit the bill. His tiny frame and nervous demeanor made him a prime target for Eugene to try and instill life lessons into, no matter how much Varian protested. So long as he worked in the castle, Eugene saw to it that the kid got three square meals a day.

And when he’d failed to keep Varian safe...

Being trapped in unbreakable rock, helpless while Varian slid across the floor, the fading screams as he plummeted to what should’ve been his death…

Let’s just say Eugene has bolted awake to those sounds more than once.

And now he was Captain of the Guard, on top of being a big brother. Which meant that he had to oversee the Royal Alchemist’s (aka Varian’s) more… delicate experiments.

As of this moment, Varian was mixing a glowing red liquid, goggles pulled over his face. Eugene had tried to peer over his shoulder and watch, but the younger pushed him away, grumbling something about not spilling it all over.

Gloved hands wrapped around a pipette as he worked, mumbling scientific jargon under his breath. Rapunzel was able to follow along a lot better than he was, which meant Eugene had no clue what was going on.

“Hello, Allo, Varian?” He waved a hand in his face, startling Varian and nearly causing the liquid to slosh out its beaker. “Hi. Yea, I’m still here and I would like to know what’s going on.” He gave the kid an unimpressed eyebrow raise when he turned, sheepish. Clearly Varian forgot about his “lab partner”.

“Right, sorry.” Varian coughed, setting aside the pipette to hold up his substance. “So, the thing with the water tanks is that… they’re really hard to work on once they’re up and running. Right? You can’t exactly go into the tankers,” he snorted. “I mean, you could, but you’d boil alive.” His brows furrowed and he brought a free hand to his chin, deep in thought. “Actually, I don’t know what would happen… maybe…” His brain was off to the races, already miles away from the current conversation.

“Varian,” Eugene snapped, crossing his arms in frustration. Not that he didn’t want to be here, but he really didn’t want to hear about Varian’s new plan to throw someone into a vat of flynnolium to see if they’d survive. “Royal Engineer, more like Mad scientist.”

“I take that as a compliment,” Varian said, turning back to his lab table with a grin. “Aaaanyway, this stuff should, if my calculations are correct, and they are,” He added, knowing Eugene had already opened his mouth. “This stuff should dissolve stuff like rust, but only when exposed to water. So basically we’d just throw a vial of this into the tankers, wait a few minutes, and drain it. Then, tada! Sparkling clean tanks, good as new.” His voice floated with each step, bouncing around his workspace with eagerness and joy. Varian hummed under his breath, grabbing a pitcher and filling a small cup with water. Water from the nearly full pitcher sloshed around, nearly spilling onto the table as he sang along to the song in his head.

“Hey, kid, isn’t that the jug you use for drinking?” Eugene asked, walking over.

“Hmm?” Varian glanced back, not really caring, too in the zone. “So it is.”

“And it’s full, even though I gave it to you this morning?”

“Yeah?”

“Which would mean…” He circles his wrist, expectant gaze meeting Varian’s confused. The boy lifted up his goggles to reveal eyes bluer than any sky. “...That you haven’t had anything to drink?”

“I had some juice at lunch.” Varian said.

“That’s not the same.” Eugene responded.

Varian shot him an annoyed gaze. “Seriously? We’re doing this now?” He asked, a hand moving to lean on his desk. He missed, sending him stumbling, but he kept his gaze trained on Eugene.

Eugene simply hummed, walking over and plucking the red vial from it’s test tube. He placed it in his coat pocket. “Yea, we’re doing this now. No experimenting on that glass, you are to drink it right now.”

“What?” Varian’s face turned slightly green. “This thing hasn’t been properly washed in who knows when! I use it as my paint cup!” He gestured to the wall, covered in notes, writings, and the odd Rapunzel doodle. The one Varian was pointing to was a doodle of his pouty face, perfectly matching his current expression.

Eugene didn’t miss a beat. “Fine. Drink from the pitcher.”

“No!”

“Right now, chug it! Come on, you won’t do it, pussy.”

“I’m not going to chug it,” the alchemist pinched the bridge of his nose. “And didn’t Rapunzel tell you to stop calling people that?”

“No experimenting until you drink it. Captain’s orders.” Varian threw his arms up in frustration. “Why are you so against drinking right now? Come on, I know you’re thirsty!”

“I need the water for the experiment! If I drink it, I’ll have to get a refill!” Getting a refill meant going upstairs, disrupting his thought process and ruining the zone he had been in all day. It was hard to get into that state of absolute concentration, and leaving the lab would surely cause his bubble of productivity to pop.

“Oh no, a refill! The absolute horror!” Eugene fake gasped. The younger’s face burned red as his older friend draped his hand over his forehead in mock distress. “Whatever shall you do, cursed to go get some fresh air by… going upstairs!?”

Varian growled. He wasn’t going to win this argument, they’d had it often enough. But between his excitement over his invention, and Eugene’s teasing, and pulling rank… his ears burned as he took a long swig from the pitcher. He’d be dead before he told Eugene how soothing the cool water felt on his throat, how it spurred him to gulp down half of the pitcher in one go. “There.” He bit out, eyes narrow as daggers. “Are you happy?”

Eugene’s eyes, which had closed in his mock despair, opened to see the teen’s melancholy. Honestly, he was so moody over drinking water , it was ridiculous! All he was doing was making sure the kid didn’t die, oh how wicked of him.

“Yes, quite!” He grinned. “See, wasn’t that hard! I swear, you give me more grey hairs every day. How your dad kept you alive, I’ll never know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Varian asked, eyebrows raised in offense. Did Eugene not think he could handle himself?

“Well, y’know, the guy always ignored you for hours on end, the fact that you didn’t die of dehydration or starvation is a miracle,” Eugene snorted.

The atmosphere grew tense in a heartbeat. Varian froze where he stood, fingers outstretched towards the cup quickly retracting. "What did you just say?" Varian hissed, eyes narrowing as he turned.

“Just that your dad wasn’t there for you like I am.” Eugene couldn't stop the words that escaped his throat. Jealousy clawed at his mind, sinking sharp talons and cutting his common sense to ribbons. He’d been looking after Varian during his stays at the castle, both before and after he’d become Royal Engineer, and yet he was the bad guy here? He was the one who risked falling off a tower to crawl out to Varian while his dad, who was well versed in the moonstone, had decided he’d rather play with his pumpkins then get involved, despite his son being asked to translate a death spell.

“You did not just say that,” Varian growled, trying to keep himself in check. He hated getting mad, especially at his friends, seeing as he didn’t exactly have a good track record with it. “You did not just suggest that you’re better than my dad.”

“Hey, all I’m saying is that he literally let you cause earthquakes with no supervision when you were fourteen and then got mad when it didn’t exactly turn out great.”

“At least my dad didn’t abandon me for three months.”

“At least I came to save you when Cass kidnapped you.”

Varian slammed his fists on the table. “Did you even tell him about that? Or did he not know I was missing, just assumed you were taking care of me until I came home with broken ribs!?” The alchemist whirled around, marching up and planting a finger on Eugene’s chest. “He thought you guys were keeping me safe, but no ! So what, now you’re trying to make up for it by breathing down my neck? I’m not a little kid, Eugene! It’s one thing to look out for me, but a whole other to smother me and insult my dad!”

The man huffed. “I’m not smothering you, I’m concerned for you! What reasonable parent is ok with their kid forgetting to eat or drink?”

"Well I’m sorry he trusts me to! You’re just a control freak who can’t accept that not everyone needs his input! You don’t trust my judgement at all!" The anger in Varian's eyes... Eugene hadn't seen it since the battle of Old Corona. He couldn’t stop himself from what came next; it was like a reflex, some leftover anger from before.

"WHY SHOULD I TRUST YOU!?" Eugene screamed, before quickly covering his mouth in horror.

Varian's eyes widened, filling with tears. Then he carefully schooled his face back to impassive and cold.

Eugene faltered, guilt boiling red hot in his stomach. He really messed up, didn't he? It wasn't that he didn't trust Varian, far from it. From his sassy remarks to dorky antics, and the way he was so passionate about everything, it was clear that Varian put his heart and soul into everything he did, and he only shared that with the people he trusted. Eugene was honored to be one of those people. Now, he might have just lost that.

He trusted Varian with his life. But Varian's life? He couldn't trust anyone with that. It was too precious to him. He'd failed to protect Varian so many times, he just wanted to do it right from now on.

Eugene tried to reach out. "Kid, I didn't mean it like that," he began, but Varian ignored him. Instead, he shouldered past, marching up the stairs towards the main castle, pitcher in hand.

"I don't know, Eugene," Varian spat as he walked, words as bitter as the feeling in Eugene's gut. "Why should you? After all, I'm just a traitor to the crown. I could be a spy for the Baron or Saporia, you never know."

"Come on, I know that’s not true," Eugene stepped forward, moving to follow, but refrained. He could see the quaking of Varian’s shoulders, almost imperceptible to anyone who didn’t know him as well as he did. "Varian, you've come so far, you're an amazing kid, I just.."

Varian whirled around, showing that sure enough, his eyes were brimming with tears. "You just what? Fear me? Like everyone else? It's fine, go ahead! Just next time," he sniffled, brushing away an angry tear. "Next time, don't pretend to care. Don’t pretend that you are monitoring me just out of the goodness of your heart. Just treat me like the criminal you think I am.”

He left the lab, leaving Eugene alone with his still untested compound.

About a minute after Varian had stormed off, a guard poked his head in.

“Hey Captain… is now a bad time to tell you a prisoner escaped?”

He groaned.

You could practically see the steam coming out of Varian’s ears as he stomped through the castle, to the point that all the maids and guards gave him a wide berth. His cheeks puffed up as he stomped. Stupid Eugene, stupid pitcher, stupid rules, stupid stupid stupid!

“Ugh!” He cried, kicking at the ground and delighting in the scuffing noises. What did he know anyway? Varian was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, he had been for years! He’d been fine on his own in the months he’d been abandoned, after all. He didn’t need Eugene then, and he didn’t need Eugene now.

Never mind the fact that his descent into madness had been because no one was there.

He burst into the supply closet with all the fury of a thousand suns, thankful that no one was in there at the moment. His hands shook as he placed the pitcher under the pump, letting out his frustration at each up and down motion of the lever.

“What does Eugene know,” Varian hissed. “He was on his own for-fucking-ever, and yet here he is thinking that I can’t handle myself? Says he doesn’t trust me to not die, I survived just fine without him!”

He was so focused on his task, on letting out his anger and ignoring the tears that fell into the pitcher, that he didn’t hear the muffled yelling, or the shuffle of guards, or even the heavy groaning of iron on wooden floors.

The door slammed shut with a heavy thud, and Varian frowned. So much for being left alone. He didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to face who he assumed was looking for him. For a moment, the only sound was the other party’s heavy breathing, and Varian’s sniffling.

“What do you want, Eugene?” He hissed. “Come to yell at me for not taking a break?”

The other person doesn’t speak for a moment. Then, a gruff, and decidedly not Eugene speaks. “Are you talking about Flynn Rider?”

Varian startles. He glances up to see the buffest man he’s ever seen (and considering his dad that’s saying a lot) is bent over, fiddling with something on his shoe.

“...yea. Eugene.” He says, turning back to the pitcher. Odd, no one in the castle called him that anymore. Maybe this guy was a visitor? A tourist who got lost? Ambassador, even? He wasn’t sure. Despite his technically high status, he wasn’t exactly welcome in court. Which meant he was often invited to royal balls only to not know a single person or anything about the current politics. It sucked.

There’s a clink as the man unlocks something. He smirks, turning back to where Varian is distracted. “So, you know him?”

“ Know him?” Varian scoffs. At the silence, he realizes the guy is serious. “Yea, I do. He’s annoying.”

“Tell me about it.” The man gruffs. Unfortunately for him (or, more accurately, unfortunately for Varian), the boy takes the invitation.

“He’s like a big brother to me, which is nice… except for the fact that he treats me like a baby brother instead of a younger one. Constantly hovering, always worried about me. I get that he means well,” he goes on, completely oblivious to how the man’s face lights up in a wicked grin, before shuffling around the closet, searching for rope and linen. “But god, it’s so frustrating when I’m trying to do something and he’s just yelling at me to take care of myself! He just wants to, to keep me locked away or something! And then today, he-he insulted my dad, tried to imply that my dad didn’t care. I get that to him it seems that way, since he’s only ever seen my dad a few times…” he let out a sigh. “I just… I appreciate what he’s doing, but he needs to chill.”

“I don’t know,” the man hums. “I’d argue he’d be valid to be concerned at this exact moment.”

Varian furrowed his brows, eyes glancing back and forth as he tried to make sense of the statement. “What does that…?” His eyes widened as the man turned around. Long blonde hair… rope in one hand… a ball and chain in another.

The Baron smirked.

Eugene kept a brisk pace, anger and annoyance growing by the second. Of course the one time he needed to be looking for Varian, he was stuck instead looking for a maniac. Leave it to Stan and Pete to mess up a prisoner transfer.

“Any sign?” He calls as he passes a guard, who turns to keep in step.

“No sir, but we have reason to suspect he hasn’t left the kingdom.”

“Good. I want all units on the lookout.” The guard saluted and ran off to execute. Their forces would be spread thin, but it was their best bet. He just hoped no one else would run into their convict.

Especially considering his past with the bastard.

No sooner does he make that wish, there’s a loud crash, akin to glass breaking, and a scream.

An all too familiar scream.

“No no no…” He breaks into a sprint, following the source of the noise. Please, for the love of god, let this not be the case. Let him be wrong, it’s just a scared maid, he just spooked him, let him be ok…!

He skids around the corner, and his heart stops dead in his chest.

Varian was strewn over the Baron’s shoulder, violently thrashing. His arms were bound behind his back, and a cloth tied into a gag over his mouth. Tears of desperation budded as his eyes were screwed shut. Strewn at his kidnapper’s feet were shards from a vase. Said man turned, and he saw how it was broken. Varian’s legs had been tied together, with one also chained to the iron ball that had been used to keep the Baron contained. A lot of good that did.

“How on earth are you still fighting?” The giant hissed. “That chain should keep your legs from moving!” Varian glared daggers down at his kidnapper, no doubt spitting fire through the cloth the likes of which would make Lance faint.

Eugene’s shock quickly morphed as he drew his sword with shaking hands and leveled a glare. He couldn’t protect Varian the last time he was kidnapped, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to fail this time.

The Baron smirked. “Ah, Rider. How nice of you to join us.”

Varian’s eyes snapped open, trying to look over his shoulder to see his brother. Large, tear-filled eyes met dark brown in a silent plea. Their previous argument no longer mattered. All that mattered was keeping him safe.

“Let him go. Now.” Eugene’s voice was deadly level, no longer filled with its usual charm and life. “And maybe I’ll be lenient on your sentence.”

The baron hummed, readjusting Varian in his fireman’s carry. “I have an alternative idea. See, I know you, Rider. And I know how weak you are for your friends. Your family.” The last bit caused Eugene to briefly glance up at Varian, before returning his glare to the Baron. “You’re going to let me walk out these halls, and out of this kingdom.”

“And if I don’t?” He really didn’t want to ask, he knew the answer. But he needed to know. How much danger was Varian in? It was one thing to hurt Lance, an adult who already was disliked by the Baron. But an innocent kid…?

The Baron smirked. “Let’s find out, shall we?” With that, the man thrust his fist into the giant window beside him. Glass spewed from the wound, splinters causing both Varian and Eugene to flinch, the latter taking a step back. It was all the advantage the Baron needed, climbing out and into Corona’s sprawling streets.

“Fuck!” Eugene hissed, leaping after, but it was too late. The man had vanished into the maze. He only had one option left, he realized, his gaze turning to the mainland.

“I wasn’t planning on taking hostages, but you’re the Royal Engineer, hm? And Rider’s little brother. I’m sure I can fetch a pretty penny… though I’m not opposed to just killing you,” The Baron hummed, moving through the city’s alleys at a speed that really shouldn’t be possible when the man had a squirming teenager on his back. But the words had stunned Varian into submission, helpless to do anything but try and kick his chained leg. If he could just get the damned ball to move, he could potentially use it as a weapon.

Maybe then Eugene would actually trust him to take care of himself.

The main bridge was fast approaching, unguarded, with nothing stopping the criminal from making off with his prize. Wait… there! Straight ahead, a lampost. Varian didn’t need to move the ball, just get the chain stuck around it, and that should buy him some time!

Slowly, so as not to alert the Baron, he began to swing his leg, letting the ball’s momentum begin to carry. He couldn’t swing very much, its weight too much, but his timing was just right. The ball swung around the pole as they passed, hooking on. The Baron was not prepared for the jerk, and so he stumbled, Varian slipping down his grasp and tripping him further. He fell to the floor, grunting slightly in pain.

He only had one shot. If he didn’t get himself back up now , his attempt would fail. Nimble hands twisted around in his bonds, trying to slide out of the rope, but they were too tight.

Come on Varian, he thought to himself. Eugene taught you how to escape this stuff! Think! How do you get out of ropes?

His mind trailed to the post-Cassandra “Hostage 101” seminar Eugene had given (read: forced onto) him. Something about using your elbows to create a space in your wrists? No wait, that was for when your hands are in front of you! Gah!

Despite it all, Varian can’t help but let frustrated tears prick at his eyes, slicing down his cheek and cutting open his soul, leaving it raw, exposed to the elements, to this bastard. He couldn’t even get his binding undone! At least with his last kidnapping, he could not escape because it was literally unbreakable. Here, he was just too weak. Too naive. Too oblivious.

If Eugene was here, this wouldn’t be a problem. Eugene would never let anything bad happen to him on his watch, it was his job, after all. And he was damn good at it.

If only Varian hadn’t stormed off.

He squirmed forward, trying to drag himself away from the Baron and buy himself more time. But it didn’t work. The man grabbed onto the ball, and yanked hard , dragging the teen over rocks that slashed at his skin.

“I will admit, that is exactly what I should’ve expected from you,” he growled, his massive form towering over Varian. With one smooth motion, he hauled the alchemist up by his shirt collar, forcing their eyes to meet. “But you won’t get away that easily.”

“Neither will you!”

The Baron turned, a feral smirk crawling over his face as he saw Eugene’s panting form. “Rider. I thought I told you not to follow?” He clicked his tongue, more akin to scolding a small child.

Eugene didn’t back down, sword drawn and pointing straight at his prey. “Let him go. Now.” It wasn’t a suggestion, but an order.

The Baron raised an eyebrow, hand still tightly gripping Varian. “You took everything from me. My daughter, my legacy, my empire. You really think I should let him go?”

“He has nothing to do with any of that!” Eugene barked, protective rage racing through his veins and spitting out of his mouth like flames. “Release him. Or I will engage.”

The Baron teeth were bared, canines flashing. “Good.”

He turned and threw Varian off the bridge.

Time moved in slow motion. Wind whistled in Varian’s ears, ruffling his hair and sending it spiral above his head, filling his vision with raven edges. The sky seemed to shrink, growing farther and farther away.

Eugene’s horrified face from high above was the last thing he saw before he hit the water.

Water rushed up his unprepared nose, spilling into his soul as he choked and tried to spit and cough it out. But he couldn’t, gag remaining firmly in place. He thrashed, trying something, anything, to stop his rapid descent, but the heavy ball on his ankle prevented any success. Blue overtook his vision, rays of sun fading more and more along with his loss of oxygen. His ears ached with increasing pressure, more and more until finally the ball hit something, vibrations rocketing up his leg.

He tried desperately to think of something, anything that could help him, but as the fog of unconsciousness creeped ever closer, the haze growing stronger and stronger, all he could think of was Eugene .

It was his last thought before darkness overtook him.

“VARIAN!” Eugene shrieked, watching as his little brother hit the water with a splash . His horrified gaze whipped around to see the Baron calmly walking away. “Get back here!” He yelled, running forward with his sword prepared to strike the man down once and for all. It hit its target, slashing the Baron’s shirt open and his form onto the floor. Blow after blow, he whaled on the large man with fists so fast his enemy had no time to strike back. The Captain raised the sword with both hands on the hilt, preparing for the final strike in a fit of fury…

“Sure,” the Baron grinned through a split lip. “Kill me, go ahead. But you’ll be killing him too.”

Eugene froze mid air.

He had a choice to make.

He could fulfill his duty, keeping Corona safe… at the cost of his baby brother…

Just like during the blizzard, just like in the months after…

The Baron cackled, seeing the emotions flicker across Eugene’s face. “Tick tock, Rider!” He yelled, laughter ringing in the captain’s ears and drowning him in panic just like how Varian was drowning now-

He dropped his sword in horror, sprinting over to the bridge’s edge, barely able to make out a familiar shape down below.

There was no more hesitation; he dove straight down, teeth gritted as he took a deep breath and fell down into the murky abyss.

There was one small blessing, and that was that the bay wasn’t terribly deep. It didn’t exceed beyond 20 feet in depth, and while that wasn’t much, it was still enough to cause a problem when you’re fucking drowning .

His boots hit dirt level, eyes straining in the freshwater as he tried to make out Varian’s face. It was slack, no emotion, no open eyes… he was running out of time.

Think, Eugene, think! He’s dying! His panicked mind screeched. In theory, the gag and hands could wait, but the ball and chain needed to go. Where were his lock picks, he thought as he rifled through his pockets until he landed on a vial.

His eyes widened as he took it out, the red glow illuminating Varian’s rapidly paling face. Of course! The kid’s alchemy! Thank god he’d listened, god his brother was so smart!

Please, please work, he prayed, smashing the vial on the ankle chain, watching with delight as it dissolved like paper in water. Immediately, Varian started to float. His big brother wrapped his arms around him, pushing up off the floor to propel them to the surface.

He gasped, lungs aching as he treaded water, Varian’s head lolling against his chest as the captain struggled to keep them both afloat. Thankfully, the mainland was right by, and in no time he was pulling Varian onto a grassy bank.

He wasted no time, starting chest compressions the second they were both on shore. “Come on kid, come on, don’t die on me!” Eugene hissed, water dripping from his hair onto the teen’s face. “You survived fucking Zhan Tiri you do not get to die from this-”

He was cut off as Varian began to cough violently, rolling over onto his side as he threw up water. A soothing hand ran over Varian’s back, consoling him as the kid slowly came back to life.

Finally, he stopped gagging, only panting heavily as each breath felt like heaven. Clouded blue eyes glanced back at his savior, melting into relief when he saw who it was.

“Eugene,” he sighed, letting the older man pull him into a hug he quickly reciprocated.

“Fuck,” Eugene breathed, laying his chin on Varian’s head. “You ok, kid?”

“...I think I drank enough water for today.”

Eugene laughed, tightening his grip just a bit more. “Yea, ok, you got me there.”

The walk back to the castle was slow going. By the time they both got there, they were shivering like crazy, so much so that the maids took one look at them and tossed towels their way.

For now, they were settled in the infirmary, letting the doctors check Varian over to make sure he wasn’t at risk of secondary drowning. A fresh fire crackled nearby, permeating the room with a comfortable atmosphere as Varian laid his head on Eugene’s shoulder.

“Did…” Varian was the first to speak. “Did you catch the Baron…?”

“...No. He got away.” Eugene sighed, defeated. He was not looking forward to writing a report.

“I’m sorry,” Varian whispered.

“Don’t be.”

“But I am!” The teen leaned back, frustrated blue meeting confused brown. “If I had just remembered any of the stuff you taught me, I would’ve been able to escape on my own! I shouldn’t have to rely on you for everything…!” His face burned red at the admission, guilt overpowering.

Eugene frowned. “Hey, whoa. You were panicking, it’s ok to not remember! If you want a refresher I can give you one.” His eyes glanced elsewhere. “Or maybe. Someone else should. Don’t want me hovering after all.”

Varian was quiet for a moment, eyes looking anywhere but his brother as the words evaded him. “No. I… I don’t really mind hovering. Sometimes,” he added, holding a finger up. “Sometimes. It’s nice to remember you guys care. But… you need to trust me to not fall over at the smallest push.”

“You mean like this?” Eugene joked, poking Varian in the side, smirking when the kid leaned heavily and fell onto his back, resting against the cot.

“Not fair,” Varian grumbled, but sure enough, there was a small smile on his face. It faded slightly. “I’m sorry for blowing up. You were just trying to help.”

Eugene smiled, slightly pained, but still a smile. “Nah, I deserved it. I’m sorry for all the stuff I said, kid. You know I trust you with my life, right?”

Varian nodded, grabbing Eugene’s arm and pulling him down till he was resting beside the younger. “And I trust you with mine,” he said.

“Well, I would sure hope so.” Eugene snickered. “So, we good?”

“We're good.”

“Excellent. Now, I don’t know about you,” the man wrapped an arm around Varian, till he was resting his head against Eugene’s chest. “But I am exhausted. You exhaust me, you know that?”

“Someone’s gotta keep you on your toes,” Varian teased, but didn’t argue as his eyes slid shut.

“Grey hairs, Varian. Grey hairs.”

#varian #tangled the series #tts #tangled #rapunzel's tangled adventure #eugene fitzherbert #tts varian #tts eugene #team awesome

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tsarisfanfiction · 3 years

Text

Small Things

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Family/Hurt/Comfort Characters: Scott, Gordon, Virgil

More self indulgent Scott&Gordon fluff because I can and because this scene’s been living in my head rent-free for the past week or so. Might be the last thing I write for a while, because uni’s just decided to let me know I need to do 390 hours of independent study for a single module with the deadline in eight weeks, and if you’re any good at maths you’ll realise there’s a problem there (alternatively, stress might drive me to writing loads like January; we’ll see). There are implications of some level of depression in here, so watch out for that.

When an injury leaves Scott unable to do even the most simple things for himself and accordingly frustrated, it takes a brother who understands what it’s like to halt the slippery slope.

Scott was no stranger to injuries, or the frustration of the recovery period. He’d broken bones, torn open skin, and endured worse still, but that never made it easier – and definitely not this time. This time, he was arguably mostly intact, and yet found himself helpless nonetheless.

Burnt palms – both of them, and fingers to boot – meant he couldn’t do even the simplest of tasks by himself. Couldn’t dress himself, couldn’t eat, couldn’t do anything except wait for them to heal as he watched his brothers keep going out on rescues without him.

His family did what they could, Virgil in particular weathering the storm of his frustrations when they spilled over, but no matter how many little gadgets Brains designed to try and give him at least some independence, the fact still remained that he was useless and helpless.

Virgil was conked out on the couch, dead to the world despite his attempts to stave off exhaustion with caffeine in order to keep Scott company as he watched yet another movie – the only activity he seemed to be able to do without help. He’d wake up later, apologetic for passing out as though he hadn’t been on back-to-back rescues with any downtime swallowed up by fussing over his currently-helpless big brother, but for the moment, Scott was more than happy to let him sleep.

Not only did he need it, but the constant smothering was wearing thin. Scott was active, self-reliant and tireless. Even the most well-meaning assistance from Virgil – the one that helped him dress, cut his food, and all the other mundane tasks suddenly beyond his capabilities – was grating. He’d already snapped at him a few times, the most recent of which had been in response to a suggestion he did his hair, moments before John had called in another rescue and Virgil had had to leave before Scott could swallow down the ire, leaving him wallowing in guilt for several hours until he’d returned, dirty and exhausted but still patiently trying to help.

It was an honest relief to see his brother sleeping, even if it left Scott balled up on his own couch, trying to ignore the bandages wrapped around his hands and focus on the movie. He was failing miserably, all too aware that the healing process was still in the early stages and that it would be several more days before he could even think of using his hands. Even with the regularly-applied gel, they still hurt.

The movie was, in theory, one of his favourites. Virgil’s choice, after he’d huffed when asked if he wanted to choose. Right then, he just wanted to turn it off and-

The holoprojection paused, right in the middle of one of his normally-favourite scenes, and he blinked. That hadn’t been his doing. Despite Brains’ best efforts, telekinesis was still eluding him.

“Hey, Scott.” He turned his head to see Gordon jump down into the den. “Reckon you can do something for me?”

Scott held up his hands, in case Gordon had somehow forgotten. “No. Get Alan to help you with whatever it is.”

“Gotta be you, bro,” Gordon insisted, catching his wrists and tugging insistently. “You don’t need your hands for this.”

Despite himself, Scott found that he was intrigued. The promise of being able to do something was a powerful allure. “What is it?”

“C’mon,” Gordon insisted in leu of answering, and warning bells rang even as his younger brother successfully pulled him to his feet. Agreeing to help before hearing the details was always a no with this particular brother. His appetite for pranks was insatiable, and sometimes his timing left something to be desired. Scott couldn’t handle a prank. Not right now.

“Gordon, what are you doing?”

“Trust me,” his brother replied. Two words that often came with warning bells. Scott knew Gordon, though. Knew when trust me meant imminent pranking and warned that he should be running, and when he could genuinely trust whatever plan his brother had concocted. This was the latter, full sincerity with a hint of a plea behind it.

Trust was important in their family. It had to be, for International Rescue to work. Gordon knew that as well as any of them, and when he used that voice, it was always true. Whatever he had planned, he believed it wouldn’t negatively impact Scott.

He sighed, and let his shoulders sag, feeling the tension start to seep away. “Where are we going?”

Gordon’s hand was steady at the small of his back, guiding him gently through the house. Towards the bedrooms, and Scott stumbled to a halt when Gordon stopped outside his room. Of all the places he expected, his own bedroom was near the bottom of the list. “Gordon?”

“Come on, bro,” Gordon coaxed, opening the door and nudging him through it. Scott let him, still confused, and found himself guided to his bed. “Sit.”

Eyeing his brother, and still completely lost as to what he was planning, Scott obeyed. His bandaged, useless, hands rested in his lap, and he glared down at them before glancing back up to see that Gordon had left his side and was rummaging around in his bathroom.

“Hey!” What was he doing?

“Easy, Scott,” Gordon called back, turning around and returning. In his hands were Scott’s comb and hair gel, two items that hadn’t seen the light of day since his hands got burnt so badly they couldn’t hold either.

Scott didn’t appreciate the reminder that, despite Virgil’s pleading, his hair was a sorry mess.

“What are you doing with those?” he demanded, starting to stand. A hand on his shoulder stopped him, and he found himself looking up into compassionate amber eyes. Gordon gave him a small smile, barely a twitch of his lips but in that moment, it hit harder than his usual exaggerated expressions.

“Relax,” he said, clambering onto the bed and settling somewhere behind Scott. Attempts to turn his head were prevented by gentle hands, keeping him facing forwards. “I’ve got you.”

Scott’s mind was scrambling to work out what his brother had planned, and how this came into him doing anything for Gordon, but before he could finish putting the facts together there were gentle fingers in his hair, carding through softly and pulling wayward strands back from his face.

His immediate instinct was to pull away – he let his brothers do a lot, but his hair had always been off-limits, in no small part because it was an obvious target for Gordon and dye, but also just because it was. Even now, he’d refused to let Virgil touch it.

“Gordon-” he started, and the fingers retreated, only for arms to wrap around his shoulders from behind. Soft, comforting, and a far cry from the crushing squid hugs his water-loving brother loved to dish out. A weight against his back, and then a cheek pressed against his. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw strawberry blond hair, and amber eyes looking at him.

“Let me do this?” his brother asked, in that exact same tone he’d used earlier for trust me. Sincere, but a little pleading.

“Why?” His voice cracked, an unexpected show of weakness, and he flinched. Gordon didn’t acknowledge it, seemingly content to let him pretend it didn’t happen.

“I think it’ll help,” he murmured instead. “Please?”

Help who?

Scott didn’t see how letting Gordon do his hair would help anyone. It wouldn’t heal the burns any faster, wouldn’t give him back his independence any sooner.

But he’d never been able to say no to a brother when they asked like that, all quiet and sincere.

“Don’t mess it up,” he caved, looking away. He felt Gordon’s smile against his cheek anyway.

“Thanks, Scott.”

The arms retracted slowly, the cheek also leaving his, and he felt the mattress dip as Gordon shuffled back into position behind him.

Then the fingers were back in his hair, teasing out the tangles and knots that had formed with infinite patience and care. The motions were soothing in their repetitiveness, Gordon’s fingers dexterous and nimble as they preened out the worst of the mess, and despite himself Scott felt a little more tension bleed away.

Fingertips found his scalp and dragged across lightly, almost a massage, for a few brief moments, before retreating entirely.

Then it was the teeth of his comb, running through strands slowly but steadily and pausing whenever they nudged a tangle Gordon’s fingers hadn’t completely erased. Those, the comb bit into lightly, coaxing and cajoling the strands and never once tugging at his scalp.

Scott had no idea where Gordon had learnt to be so gentle with hair.

There was no mirror in view from where he was sat, but Scott didn’t need one to feel the weight of his hair slowly shifting, leaving its unkempt and chaotic tragedy and falling into the familiar style he favoured. Without gel, the strands at the front attempted to flop forwards, over his forehead, and he resisted the instinct to swipe them back.

His hands wouldn’t thank him, and the hair would inevitably get tangled in the bandages, but what actually stopped him was the sensation of Gordon interchanging comb with fingers as he continued to smooth the hair back until it fell just right. Gordon had asked to do this, and despite his initial misgivings, Scott found he was enjoying it. No-one had done his hair for him since he was a kid, Mom fussing and asserting her right as his mother to do so. Not like this.

Distracted by sudden memories, he missed the moment the comb left his hair for good, and startled slightly when the cool sensation of gel seeped through his hair. Gordon had returned to using his fingers, smoothing his hair into position with a precision no doubt born of seeing it so many times, and Scott closed his eyes.

The touches steadily grew lighter, lingering for longer and ghosting over what were presumably stray strands that needed a little more gel to keep in place, until they left all together.

He opened his eyes as the mattress shifted, turning his head to see Gordon slipping off the bed, rubbing his hands with a towel to get the gel off his fingers. Amber eyes surveyed his hair sharply, before Gordon gave another small, tender smile.

“Come on, bro.” Hands cradled his wrists, carefully away from the bandages, and drew him to his feet. “Now you get to judge my work.”

Scott let Gordon lead him to his bathroom, where the mirror hung above the sink. It was something he’d avoided looking at for the past few days, aware of his deteriorating hair yet unable to fix it and unwilling to let anyone else until Gordon wormed his way in with softly pleading sincerity, but a light nudge over the threshold had him reluctantly facing his reflection.

He looked like himself.

There were still bags under his eyes from the sleepless nights, and his skin was still pale and a little haunted, but his hair was gelled back just the way he liked it – the way he laboured over it every day even when he forwent other aspects of self-care because he didn’t have time – and while it was only one thing, it was enough to banish the unkempt shadow he’d become and replace it with something blessedly familiar. Blessedly normal.

Unconsciously, his back straightened, leaving him standing tall once again.

Gordon’s reflection joined his, standing alongside him as a hand rested on his shoulder.

“Any better?” his brother asked, worry in his eyes. Scott tore himself away from his reflection to look down at the flesh-and-blood young man next to him.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Gords- what-?”

“When everything goes to hell, it’s the small things that make the difference,” Gordon said. The reminder was bittersweet – Gordon, too, had once been unable to do even the most basic of tasks unaided. “It helped me. I thought it was worth a try for you.”

A sense of normality amongst an ocean of uncertainty. Something to hold onto when he had nothing else.

Scott raised his arm, resting it lightly around Gordon’s shoulders.

“Thank you,” he murmured, looking back at the mirror where the man that looked much more like himself stood, arm around his little brother. In hindsight, it was obvious; a lack of self-care was a slippery slope – one he’d seen Gordon fight before.

“I know you’d rather do it yourself,” Gordon continued. “But remember, we’re here to help you.” The hand on his shoulder squeezed for a brief moment. “You just have to let us.”

Gordon looked relieved, Scott realised. He hadn’t noticed how worried his younger brother had been until it was gone, but the story was there, behind smiling eyes and a steadily growing grin on his face.

“Thanks,” he said again. There was nothing else he could say. Nothing that properly appreciated what his brother had done for him. Was offering to keep doing, if Scott was reading him right.

He was usually pretty accurate when it came to reading his brothers.

“Could-” he started, mouth ahead of his brain. “Could you-” He couldn’t quite get the words out, instincts still rebelling against asking for help – asking for this – despite it being freely offered.

“Keep doing it for you until you can do it yourself again?” Luckily – in this particular instance – Gordon could read him, too. Scott nodded jerkily. “Of course.”

The hand on his shoulder moved, arm reaching around him until Gordon had him in a half-embrace.

“Welcome back, big bro.”

If Virgil had any thoughts about Scott letting Gordon help when he’d been refused at every offer, he kept them firmly to himself when he was woken by the pair of them returning to finish the movie. Scott did, however, find himself subject to a bear hug, and relieved brown eyes looking him over.

In hindsight, it was obvious Virgil had seen what was happening all along, and Scott regretted getting snappy with him about it. Virgil waved off his apologies, but did consent to go and get some proper sleep in his bed as long as Gordon promised not to leave him alone while he did.

The insinuation that he needed a minder should have grated. Would have grated, half an hour before, when he was still a miserable mess curled up in the corner of a couch. But as Gordon promised, solemn sincerity that Virgil could trust, and settled more comfortably on the couch with his arm around his shoulders, Scott just found himself thankful for how much his brothers cared.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #scott tracy #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #thunderfluff #thunderangst #small things

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 4 years

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MINNIE SENPAI!! blease do E, I, K, L, N, O, W, Z for Leo? 🥺💖 (i might have gone overboard, so feel free to choose the ones you like the most fhdgk)

Haha, welcome welcome!! I’m honored kouhai, please don’t worry! 💖💖💖 I hope you enjoy this post~

Under a cut for length, yet again LOL

Fluffy ABC headcanons listed here for requests!

E = Emotions (how does he express emotion around her?)

Bold of you to insinuate Leonardo has emotions that aren’t imposed against his will HAHAHA. Just kidding, but he does have a hard time not clowning and hiding what he’s feeling. Say it with me kids, repression. That being said, I think he will always have a hard time expressing himself without hesitation in his relationship. His first instinct is to soothe and protect; he doesn’t really know how to put himself first, very few people have ever cared to put him first in his life. One of the hardest things about being capable with the mental acuity of a blade is that everyone just kinda assumes you'll be fine (compounded by the fact that he feels burdensome asking for help). And while there’s no doubt he can take care of himself, everybody needs a daijoubu from time to time ;-;. I like to hope that his MC will be able to see through to the truth of his feelings over time--even if he doesn’t openly enumerate them--before he can smother his emotional needs into silence. Furthermore, I think he would be a little more open/obvious about the depth of his love over time because, at some point, those feelings would accumulate to the point of overflow.

With Leonardo, vulnerability is a slow burn; he will reveal what he’s thinking someday, but today is not that day. Have patience, be gentle with his absolute clown self-neglect, try to meet him halfway; that trust will inspire him to be everything he thought he never could be for someone else.

In the meantime:

One of the key signals when it comes to Leonardo is to pay attention to when he’s seeking to spoil her. If he’s being extra uwu, that’s a surefire sign he’s Coping™ by channeling those more negative feelings into making her happy. He thinks the best way to handle The Bad Feels and/or concern for her is to redirect that energy into something constructive, and what better outcome could there be than her pouting or giving him that dazzling smile of hers?

Honestly, with Leonardo, he tends to convert emotion into action--she will know the warmth of his love long before he ever says it out loud.

He has a hard time articulating his feelings, so asking him to say them outright might be hard on him--it might not be the best immediate go-to. Spoil him out of the blue, instead. She’ll seek him out and just sit in his lap and cuddle for a nap sessh completely without warning, hold him tight so that he knows she’s here no matter what. She’ll indulge his cute needy moments and lounge in bed all morning together, hold his hand first when they go out, take charge in the bedroom; she’ll show him he’s wanted and needed before he can even think to doubt himself. Murmur compliments to him, make him things he loves to eat, give him a back rub unprompted. It’s the simple awareness of what he enjoys and the execution of it before he can prepare that utterly decimates him into revealing the feelings he keeps under tight control.

He is a lover that thrives on spontaneity and burning, silent consideration for the person he cherishes. The most adorable thing about this is that he is absolutely lost when the same tactic is used against him, he’s utterly defenseless to it!! (look at me. He has zero emotional object permanence. The mere prospect that somebody would worry about him first would send him into shock. And remember: the way people give love can often be the most powerful way they receive it, too.) The sacred texts!! She can use them to make him smile that smile that lets her know he’s an absolute goner for her without the need for words; the smile that says “it will always be you. It can only ever be you.”

When he’s happy, he literally just spoils her with more energy and teasing--expect a lot of wild fun and laughter when he’s in a good mood. He will have exceptionally tender moments now and again (say after a bad nightmare of losing her, for example) where he won’t say anything at all, just holds her close. He needs to know that she’s still here, that she’s okay. It is a rare and huge act of emotional trust; MC’s understanding and her easy proximity in these moments mean the world to him. When he’s distant and evasive, that is the time to give him some space before wedging her way inside. She won’t let him sit and stew in abysmal feelings; he has a bad habit of punishing himself too much or lingering on unhappy moments in his life. Despite how he seems he takes things incredibly seriously--to the point where he exhausts himself.

When he’s jealous and feeling petulant, he will not hesitate bitch and will get surprisingly grumpy. She’ll coo at him and reassure him that he’s the only one for her, and he’ll calm in the circle of her arms. Fun bonus: he’ll be embarrassed/mortified about being out of control later and she has ENDLESS fun teasing him just a little, even better if he punishes her with a good bangarang. Anger and irritation are emotions he tends to leave be, but if someone directs any kind of threat to MC (or an innocent in general) every trace of his jovial nature dissolves in milliseconds. He is swift, decisive, and deadly when he’s belligerent; he is the last person to push too far. He will often regret it later or worry about scaring MC, but it really does only happen once in a great while. She always reassures him that she knows he only did what he felt he had to in the moment.

You can just hear the Leonardo stan in me, lord jesus

I = Injury (how would he react if she got hurt?)

OH GOD KILL ME FUCKING SOFTLY AUGHGHGHGHGGH

I think it would depend on the injury. If it’s something like a papercut or a scratch, he’ll just be like “yare yare cara mia, be a little more careful next time, yeah?” Will bandage her up and disinfect because he knows enough about medicine to be cautious. Plenty attentive, will probably tease her about being a klutz and/or tell her to ask for help next time. Everything you would expect from Leonardo, essentially; equal parts light-hearted and responsible.

NOW WE GONNA GET SPOICY

If the injury is much more intense--say a broken limb, or deep gashes, so on and so forth--I see Leonardo being very, very grim. His lips would be pursed into a firm line, blanched white from the pressure, and his first step would be to get her out of the danger at any cost to himself. Following his ability to get her to a safe place, he would begin to tend the wound as gently as possible, asking questions to gauge the severity with single-minded concentration. “Where does it hurt? Rate the pain, describe what it feels like. Can you move the injured limb?” He will use whatever he has at his disposal to minimize her suffering if he can’t get her to a doctor immediately. If she requires treatment from someone else, he will be beside himself the entire time; chain-smoking, pacing, running his hands through his hair nonstop. He has ants in his pants until he sees her with color in her face, eyes bright again.

May I offer: They are 100% that couple (in which Leonardo is the one that falls asleep at her bedside) that’s like “you look like shit.” “look who’s talking, stupid.” and they just start laughing, mutually relieved.

During her recovery, he will be incredibly gentle but also subliminally alert. Anything she needs, she gets. If she tries to return to a normal pace of life too fast, he is straight up just picking her up and putting her back in that recovery bed. He ain’t playin’--don’t test him on this. He’s usually pretty easygoing, but he will snap at anyone who isn’t careful with her in this state. He will not take any further risk to her life. (He’s not usually brittle, but under severe conditions he can be.) He’ll tease her from time to time, but it’s much more mild than usual; he’s too consumed with concern to let her get worked up. He’s never really had to deal with a prolonged state of physical helplessness personally, but he’s seen enough in his life to know it can be really taxing on a person’s mind. There will be a thin veneer of calm, only there to keep her relaxed and to ensure the stability of her mental health. He knows that if he shows too much distress, he’s only going to worry her further--and that’s the last thing he wants. He will spend the majority of his time acquiring as many distractions as humanly possible, even if he has to be the distraction; anything to get her mind off of darker things.

When she’s back to normal, he’ll still be on alert for a short while before he goes back to his usual clowning self; might be a little more protective and cautious than usual, or be a little paranoid about the specific thing that caused her harm. (No Leonardo, we need kitchen knives--how else are we going to cut the carrots?? Please relax.) He doesn’t want that kind of heart attack again anytime soon;;;;

Honestly, it’s very likely that MC will have to be the one to remind him that she’s fully recovered--and not quite so fragile--well after she’s returned to the normal pace of life.

K = Kisses (how does he like to kiss her?)

Mah heart, mah soul

When it comes to kisses, Leonardo will vary extensively. Will give her teasing pecks intended to make her grab hold of him and force him to linger, smirking into the kiss as she’s instigated to deepen it. When he’s feeling particularly overwhelmed with feeling--say when he’s jealous or frustrated--his kisses will be dizzying; sucking on her tongue and nipping at her lips, caging her against him as he unleashes all of the desire that was building inside him. The intent will be to drown her in passion. Lazy kisses before/after a nap, where he just wants to revel in the heat of her for a moment--express his affection on a whim--before dozing off. And last, but certainly not least, he will kiss her with the express intent of marking her. Due to his inability refusal to bite her, he seeks to relieve that instinct with hickeys all over her body (most frequently around the chest and neck, sometimes along her thighs and hips when he has fun downtown).

L = Love (how does he show her that he loves her?)

This man is Acts of Service through and through when it comes to showing his love. He is exceptionally observant and sensitive to the feelings of others, so the second he sees her in need he is already seeking an externalized solution. His usual modus operandi is to enact his love as covertly as possible; he doesn’t want her feeling guilty for troubling him. That being said, if he has to be direct--he will be. He won’t ever force her, but he will remind her that he is here and that he wants to help more than anything else. If she needs time on her own he’s happy to give it (even if he pouts and fidgets restlessly the whole time). His most acute expression of love is his reliability: taking care of people is the first way he knows how to express affection.

While that tends to be his primary method, it by no means insinuates that he won’t show affection in other ways. If he teases her, it’s because he wants her attention more than anything but is far too shy to say it directly (is he a middle schooler of a lover? Yes). More to the point, asking for her time and her attention is a way that he expresses love because it means he trusts her enough to know the signs, fulfill those needs, and realize that he meant no harm with his nonsense. Though it may sound odd, his desire to rely on her a little (insert is for me? meme) is his way of showing her he’s letting her in, and that’s a very real form of love considering how Herculean an effort it is for him to rely on someone else. It’s the same reason he will sometimes make his room an even bigger disaster zone than usual. He has every intention of cleaning up after himself, he just wants her to bust in and start fussing over him LMAO (MC: WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS LEONARDO?! Meanwhile Leonardo, an idiot full of uwus at the sight of his beloved exasperated, sitting in a pile of trash: Just according to keikaku)

As odd as it may sound, it’s almost like a weird reverse damsel in distress sort of dynamic? He carefully constructs situations where she can offer him help with the express purpose (and hope) that she will care enough to bust past his enfeebled defenses. It’s so oddly demure for this enormous punk of a man, but I find it adorable ;-;

Other ways he loves to show how he feels is to take her on trips or on little adventures. One of his favorite things to do is to watch her take in places he knows like the back of his hand--or even places new to him--with all the gleeful excitement of a little kid. It just warms him down to the marrow, and makes him have so much more fun than he ever could alone to see her buzz around nonstop. If he can encourage her to relax and take some time for herself in the process, to live for herself a little (she’s all too giving) then he considers the entire endeavor a success. All the effort is worth it if she can remember their time together with a smile Must You Hurt Me Like This, Leonardo.

One form of love that he will behead me for revealing is that he also sketches her all the time in his notebook, and will look to those little moments he’s captured whenever he’s feeling down or she’s not around.

He will have times where, if he can’t convey something properly with his actions or through making love, he will level with her. He will take the time to try to explain his feelings with accuracy, and in these moments he is both sincere and heartfelt. While it is a more rare expression of love for him, it is earth shattering when he does. Not only because his feelings run so deep, but also because these moments are unmistakably raw. Leonardo knows that vulnerability is a simultaneous boon and bane; it can inspire so much mutual joy, but it can also mean the exposure of lifelong wounds. It means acknowledging that these feelings are real. Even if she never takes advantage of the truth, he is aware of how precarious that position can be the more intense this love gets. It means facing how hollow he will feel when she's gone--something he works very, very hard to look away from.

(A related addendum because I have brainworms: The reason that people love and trust Leonardo is not primarily based in his intellect, fairly natural charisma, or good looks (though they are very compelling elements of his person). I think what people really see is how--though Leonardo sees through to the truth of peoples’ hearts in seconds--he keeps their secrets and treats them with so much respect/gentleness. It’s this odd capacity to be seen without feeling exposed that makes him such a remarkable and interesting man, and why he grows so close to everyone’s hearts. People feel understood without the need for words, feel cared for without a second thought. That being said, I think he needs someone who is similar. A person who sees all that he is on the surface, but barring that forges deeper still to find and cradle those parts of him that still need so much healing/care.

There’s a reason one of the greatest hits to his heart in his MS--one of the moments MC most powerfully gets through to him--is when she essentially says “Don’t give me that. Nobody ever gets used to loss. When something hurts, it hurts.” Whether she realized it or not, she penetrated straight to his heart with those few words. The truth is often much simpler than we might assume, and no matter how much experience one has with certain emotions--particularly grief and loneliness--no amount of experience makes them hurt any less. We only grow better at concealing or coping with age...)

N = Nightmare (what is his worst fear?)

I have a list (from Comte). I keep them alphabetized.

Jkjk, but if I’m honest I think this man has a good amount of fear inside him. I’d say the highest ones up there would absolutely be losing MC very suddenly, or being the reason--whether directly or indirectly--she gets hurt (like if his familia came after her to get back at him? he would be devastated).

If it is a timeline where he does choose to turn her, he’s beside himself at the prospect of the turning process going horribly wrong. It’s an unpredictable transition, and if she were to come back mentally broken or in constant pain (immortal wounds/aberrant) I think it would really fuck him up emotionally. He would blame himself without a doubt ;-; and that’s assuming she doesn’t hate his ass for the rest of eternity if it does go well (Leonardo I am begging you to use one brain cell)

O = Oddity (what is one quirk he has?) This one’s just a crack hc so if you were taking me seriously for any amt of this post, this is my suggestion that you stop

Leonardo is a man of many idiosyncrasies; among them an incapacity to dance and writing in a mirrored hand.

Another one is his absolute hatred for mint. One of Comte’s favorite things to do to mess with Leonardo is to stuff the drawers in his desk with peppermint candies to ward off his old friend and make him stop sleeping under his desk (like how people will use salt for demons!). He will also drink mint tea if he’s feeling particularly irritated with Leonardo’s antics, like if he’s received a ton of letters from Leonardo’s familia. Tells him to come to his office and the place is SUFFUSED in the scent of mint. Comte is just sitting at his desk with the stack, wearing that incorrigible look like “If I must suffer, so must you.”

One time--before MC was aware of this quirk--she had some chocolate that had mint in it after dinner. Leonardo kissed her without knowing (he came in late) and literally died where he was standing; he was biting his tongue to keep from gagging. MC just o: ???? because she’s never seen him make that grimace, especially after sharing a kiss. Comte was in fucking tears laughing at the head of the dining table while Napoleon and Sebastian were both fighting a smile--Arthur was outright wheezing. Isaac, blushing and coughing lightly into his fist, offers the explanation that Leonardo hates mint-flavored things and the scent of it makes him queasy.

W = Warrior (how does he feel about her fighting? Would he fight for her, beside her, etc?)

Man, this one’s tough, but if I’m honest I think he would be conflicted. On the one hand, he thinks it’s badass and hot as all fuck that she knows how to hold her own in a brawl; he can’t deny it’s sexy and reassuring (he has to resist the urge to gaud her into punching him). But. That knowledge also comes with a lot of concern. Was she in a place or around people that never once looked after her? Or was it a safety precaution? He will think deeply about the implications of her capabilities, and ask about it openly if he can’t deduce the reasons from afar. He will see it as very important information in regards to how to look after her properly.

That being said, I don’t think he would let his MC fight unless there was literally no other conceivable choice (say she was attacked while he wasn’t there or before he could intercept the blow). He would literally rather fall on a sword than see her get hurt. He’s durable and used to pain; he’d rather suffer and heal fast than see her sustain a single scar or bruise. Even if it makes her angry, he’ll take a hit and ask her to stay behind him every single time without fail. He’ll accept her frustration about it and will feel that it is perfectly valid to be annoyed with him. It still won’t make him budge, though.

Z = Zen (what makes him feel calm?)

Naps and lingering in bed well after morning with MC make this man happier and calmer than anything this world has ever seen. He loves that in those moments they aren’t thinking about anything else but each other, and he can indulge in the certainty of her presence in his life and so close to his heart. He can use the excuse of drowsiness to be tender, making love with a slow, devastating build to pleasure--hand entwined with hers against the sheets.

Failing that, he goes to things that stimulate his senses to find calm--he can’t really relax if his hands and/or mind aren’t occupied (i.e. cigarillos lmao). It’s why he’s often in the library; he’s always seeking new information and conundrums to sort out mentally if he doesn’t have the energy to go out and about. If he’s in his room he’ll be drafting diagrams, coming up with new concepts and architectural schematics, even making trinkets for MC or fixing something in the mansion. If he needs a change of scene or has the spoons, he’ll make a trip to town to help people with any problems that need solving, or find some excuse to go looking for and tease MC HAHA (he’s a little shit, but he’s our little shit úwù)

#asks #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp leonardo #ikevamp leo #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp hcs #ikevamp comte #ikevamp fluff #fluff headcanons #so like ik this is unhinged but also i hope you enjoy my nonsense?#tysm for sending in an ask it was a delight to do these for leonardo!#got carried away as usual but how does one not for this excellent bastard i salute him o7 #leonardo is just a roller coaster of a lover HAHAHA but that's not a bad thing~#here's to another day wishing i could hold him and tell him it will be okay **sighs**#rambles

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ephemeral-sorrow · 3 years

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The Sweetness of Frenemic Love

Sometimes the strangest thoughts enter my head and make me write something bizarre but really touching at the same time. :D

pairing: Lilly x Male!MC

summary: It`s one step from hatred to love.

warning: a bunch of fluff ;)

Have you ever experienced resentment towards someone you`ve never met in real life?

Felt irritation and anger bubble up inside your head like lava slowly filling the volcano to the brim, almost turning your eyes into two sizzling hot coals?

Lilly had been familiar with these disgusting sensations even before she got to knew MC - the obnoxious stranger Hannah sent her number to and the one who managed to infiltrate their group and spread insurgency among everyone and everything around. Her sister`s disappearance ruined their peaceful lives, putting Lilly and her parents into huge stress, when each day with news even more horrible than on previous one, took away all their hope. So, to conclude it all, a completely unknown weirdo, who gained access to different sorts of information as well as trust of her blindly oblivious friends, now was sticking his nose into other people`s business without pangs of conscience.

The way things were progressing kept Lilly infuriated and incredibly... depressed. She refused to admit that to herself, but she was even angrier because of her own helplessness. She wanted to do something useful and finally get a clue that might come in handy or at least set things up so that the investigation would be faster and more efficient. However, guys from the group already had their own theories, sources and clues, took part in various events and furthermore, acted carelessly, not paying attention to threats. ... They made it clear that Lilly`s advice was pointless, just like her participation.

That`s why the mere thought of some stranger doing more for Hannah than her family made something snap inside, clouding Lilly`s judgement and true character with boundless spite. Not to mention, pure fear engulfed her at the suggestion that MC may be the real culprit, and here, cards played so flawlessly right into his hands...

* * *

Now it was a completely different story, and it was kind of hard to believe that was how she used to think of him only a year ago. A lot happened, making those restless days seem like a distant memory or rather a thrilling movie, characters of which were another people, portrayed in another places and time.

“So, what do you make of my new car?”

Lilly blinked, snapping out of her flooding thoughts and returned her attention to the cup of chocolate icecream with gente, pink frosting before her - and finally, stared at the rest of the group, that made themselves comfortable at the cafe table. Today was the celebration on account of Dan`s grandiose purchase - dashing, brand new Audi A3 model. It costed him a fortune but didn`t lessen his enthusiasm nor pride(having exited the hospital as soon as possible, he spent a great deal of effort in finding a good job AND cutting down on alcohol). As a result, every time he ordered apple juice at the Rainbow cafe he declared: “Cool dudes drink only juice!”.

“Dan, that was the hundredth time you`ve asked this question”, despite the fake bored tone, Cleo wore an amused smile, dropping her usual strictness.

“What can I possibly do when all of you are so short-spoken?” Dan dramatically leaned back on the soft cushion. “I need details. Not talking about this pretty girl is a sacrilege”.

“If she was mine, I`d call her ‘babe’ “, ice cubes softly clincked against the glass, as Richy thoughtfully twisted his cocktail in his hand. “And the quiet purrs of her engine are the same as a hearbeat--”

“Now, now, you`re just being ridiculous!” Hannah`s melodic laugh ringed before drowning in the chatter of the crowded cafe. Lilly`s insides warmed up upon seeing her sister smiling sweetly in the Thomas` embrace. She was safe and sound, cheerful and full of love for the surrounding world. Everything was back to normal and it made Lilly genuinely happy--

She felt hot breath pleasantly tickle her ear before a crisp, familiar voice sensually whispered to her:

“I don`t know about others, but if you asked me, the only ‘babe’ I see is you”.

Lilly couldn`t really help the flush that spread on her neck, so she coughed, pretending to be extremely interested in her icecream, which was already starting to melt.

She casted a quick glance at the man beside her, attempting to look unfazed by his sudden compliment only to be met with his mischievous, affectionate eyes.

“MC, we`re... we`re in public”, she whispered back rather shyly.

“You were kind of dreamy while looking at Thomas and Hannah, so I decided to remind you that you didn`t come here alone”.

“Hmph”, Lilly pouted, fixing the fallen lock of her hair. “as if I need your tasteless remarks to cheer up. You should come up with something more original”.

MC laughed airily, flashing his signature confident smirk. Lilly took a small breath, furrowed her delicate brows and turned away stubbornly, turning a deeper shade of red. She didn`t like her heart clenching bittersweetly at his actions, especially in front of her unsuspecting friends. It was difficult to keep a perfectly composed face.

“I`ll cook you Peking meat by my special receipt tonight”, MC continued as if nothing had happened, absentmindedly observing the lively conversation between Jessy, Dan and Thomas, and how Cleo was showing Hannah something on the phone.

“I’ll take it as an invitation to your house?” Lilly inquired. “Why are you so sure I`m going to accept it?”

“Oh please, sweetie, do you want me to list all reasons in front of so many people?” His expression was calm and serious, but Donfort knew better: he was mercilessly teasing her, not caring about precautions at all.

Lilly hit his leg under the table, earning a triumphant ‘ouch’ in response.

* * *

Later that evening at his place, after having had a fair piece of the most delicious meat she has ever eaten, Lilly was helping MC to wash the dishes, drying the shiny plates with a cloth and placing them into the cupboard. He was mumbling a delightful tune under his breath. She glanced at his features. Somehow simply being with this person made her forget about all troubles. But what about him?

“MC”, Lilly tried to sound not too curious.

“Yes?”

“Why did you choose me of all girls? I mean... I`ve never thought that you might become interested in me after what I did to you a year ago with that video and vote. Like in person, let alone a woman. You`ve been best friends with Jessy from the start, so it would`ve been logical if you two have had a thing”.

“To be honest with you, your brother said the same”, he smiled with the corners of his mouth. “What I found in you”.

“Excuse me, what!?” the girl exploded with outrage, dropping the cloth out of surprise. “Jake, that little jerk!! He`s supposed to back me up in situations like this!”

MC was holding his laughter for his dear life or he would inevitably get a handful but frankly, it was getting harder.

“What did you reply? Come on, I want to know!!” Lilly was worried and frustrated at the same time, looking at him impatiently and expectantly, like a little kid who desired to know their present for birthday.

“You seem so desperate-- HAHAHA, I CAN`T!”

Lilly groaned and threw a sponge at him on full speed, not bothering that it was still wet and full of soap. What was so funny when all she wanted to hear was these important words of confirmation?

MC cleaned his face and came closer.

“I replied that you`re the one who understands me. The one who always makes my day brighter. Also you are kind and candid”, his palm rested against her cheek, tenderly caressing it, as she leaned for his touch.

“I can often be impulsive and sharp”.

“That doesn`t make you worse. You always speak your mind. I think it`s admirable. Not to mention, you are a truly charming and elegant woman”.

She didn`t let MC finish his sentence because their lips collided in a soft, albeit passionate manner. Lilly lived up to her statement - this kiss was spontaneous and full of feeling. She traced his wide shoulders, stopping when her hands found their place in his unruly hair, slightly tugging at it.

They parted once they ran out of air.

“Jake additionally said my romantic confession would lead to this”.

“Ugh, you`re terrible!!”

#duskwood #mc #lilly #lilly x mc #jake #richy #cleo #hannah #thomas #dan #jessy #everbyte #duskwood fanfiction

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spudinacup · 5 years

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Spinels Character Analysis:

Now that the comic has caught up to this point I can go on a bit of a tangent here and rant about my logic behind Spinels progression through the first seven pages of the SU AU Gone Wrong comic.

Let's dive right in then, shall we?

Spinel’s Character Break Down and Emotional Complexity:

This is gonna be one hell of a long rant so putting Readmore here.

[This isn’t proofread so if there are grammar or spelling mistakes we’ll all have to live with them]

Spinel as a character is rather complex and predictably unpredictable in how she reacts to situations. In Pixar, they have a concept they like to refer to as the spine of the character. This is the basis of who they are and will drive all their decisions throughout the story. A prime example of this is Woody; his spine is to protect his kid and ultimately get back to him. This drives every one of Woody’s decisions. By being separated from Andy he feels that he will be hurt by his absence and as such seeks out a solution to this dilemma. As a whole, Spinel’s spine, so to speak, is rooted in her insecurity; more specifically her insecurity around rejection. It’s part of what made her so appealing to the fanbase and also to the viewers of the film. It almost seemingly justifies her murderous intent and ability to cause such havoc and devastation.

When looking at the concept of insecurity and abandonment you’ll find articles referring to child abandonment syndromes. TMI moment; but I was abandoned by my genetic parents and have an unfortunately extensive understanding of the sensations revolving around this kind of trauma. Spinel in many ways was a child for Pink, she was a playmate. This doesn’t imply that she had any maternal connection to Spinel but if you compare her situation to that of a child dealing with this kind of neglect it aligns very similarly. Spinel did not choose to be made, she was born into Pink’s service and felt that was her world. She revolved around Pink and was there to please her whims. She was immature yes, but so is a child.

In an article by Lynne Namka titled, “The Many Causes of Feelings of Insecurity and Abandonment,” she analyzes the impacts and results of this kind of abandonment.

“Some abandonment issues can be related to physical security and fears of survival of the physical body. Rejected children can fear annihilation if their emotional and physical needs are not met. The external rejection and lack of love are internalized by the child along with beliefs of being unworthy, undeserving and unlovable. These children can grow up to become jealous and insecure in their relationships.”

Everyone at some point in their lives has felt tossed aside or dejected by society or others and this drives home further that feeling of connection to this character. It as a rather smart choice for the Crewneverse to go ahead with such a character archetype considering the themes of forgiveness and friendship in Steven Universe.

The problem with a character that is based so heavily around the concept of rejection is their reactions upon being confronted by it. We see this demonstrated in the film through each of Spinel’s actions. This sensation of being left behind is strong enough that even while dealing with amnesia and being rejuvenated to an earlier state the emotional trauma still rears its ugly head in the form of aggression.

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Upon arriving at Earth in the film Spinel proclaims that she is there to kill Steven Universe and even continues to state in the concluding scene that:

“You know I came here to take my anger out on a bunch of strangers, but now that I know you... I want to kill you even more.”

This again coincides with the concept of Abandonment Rage. To quote another article of the same name from Lynne Namka:

“Blind rage often comes out of the anxiety and terror of being left behind. Domestic violence expert Donald Dutton defines abandonment rage by saying, “Rage often comes after fears of feeling abandoned and helplessness. A child is made furiously angry by a parent’s threats to desert him but on the other hand, he does not express that anger in case it makes the parent actually do so….the anger of a parent becomes repressed and directed at someone else later on.” Repressed anger then becomes displaced or put on someone else after frustration builds up to a boiling-over point.”

This is the progression of Spinel’s character arch prior to reaching Steven. She has had this melting pot of anger boiling inside of her festering and mixing into a whirlwind of hate and repressed frustrations. Spinel is experiencing a catathymic crisis, a term coined by the Forensic Psychologist J. Ried Meloy. To put it simply, its where the individual's anger becomes a catharsis for feelings of vulnerability. Its a moment of disconnect from one’s logic and instead allows their actions to be driven by this anger lacking any logical perceptions or thought behind it. Webster's definition is as such: an unexpected explosive outburst of impulsive often destructive behavior understandable only in terms of unconscious motivation

So now that we know where her head was at before confronting Steven, what happened after she killed him?

The Impact of Steven’s Death:

Spinel’s actions with the rejuvenator are rash, fast, and not well thought out. There’s been a few great analysis on Tumblr that follow this line of thought.

As a whole, Spinel is playing with the Crystal Gems but her aim is true with her weapon. When she strikes down Amethyst, Garnet, and Pearl its with a single slash straight through the middle, it's effective. What better place could you aim to cause immediate results? On the slim, and probably impossible but work with me here, chance that it didn’t work immediately or at the very least didn’t poof them, there’s no walking away from that impact. It effectively disrupts their physical form and forces them to retreat into their gems.

The intention of the injuries inflicted on Steven follows this same kind of logic. Spinel was attempting to cause as much damage as possible as quickly as possible.

Steven Universe is Pink Diamond, she knows this, or at least he has what’s left of her. Diamonds are difficult to kill as we learned during Steven’s trial.

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So why was she trying?

In my opinion, it was because she was attempting to remove the obstacles that were in her way to being Pink’s friend. She was envious. Under all the hurt and misdirected anger, she still feels abandonment. While it may enrage her she still longs to be accepted and craves that solace of belonging again. Pink Diamond was her world, she was all she had, that absence has left a void that little can fill. We ultimately see this envy and desire manifest in the climax of the film as she fights Steven and ultimately crumbles under her own emotional state before the injector combusts.

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After removing the obstacles that are the other gems she turns her focus upon Steven. The rejuvenator would revert him back to a prior state. If it brought Pink back, great she’d have the source of her anger. If it reverted his powers and Pink was really gone? Fine, she’d be done with him soon enough. It wasn’t a logical decision, it was an emotionally driven and rash conclusion of her abandonment.

When she attack’s Steven her first blow takes off Steven’s arm. I wanted this to stand out to the viewer upon their viewing of the comic. It's drastic, impactful and leaves one unsettled by the sensation of having some ripped violently from their person. The arm is in many ways if you look between the lines, an analogy of P!Steven’s situation. He has been lopped off what made him whole and is only half of a person in his current manifestation. There is no way to efficiently reattach that limb with the flesh expiring in his arms.

The second of her attacks follow suit almost immediately following the amputation of Steven’s arm. She attempts to recreate the action she did with the Crystal Gems and cut him in half. Again, this being an efficient and fast way to destabilize him and poof the gem. However, Steven is half-human. So worked up by her own feelings of entitlement to the violence and grief Spinel is blind to the blood that flies from his injuries and only realizes what has happened once she can no longer swing wildly. The second blow ultimately was the fatal one while also what forces his gem out of his body. Amputates his gem, if you will.

Unshown in the comic is Spinel realizing something isn’t right however it was actually the first image I did for this AU shown here:

The rejuvenator becomes stuck within Steven’s torso, it doesn’t go all the way through him. This isn’t normal and gives Spinel’s mind enough time for her actions is starting to sink into her. With this comprehension comes with it the confusion of what she is seeing.

[-credit @thelostmoongazer for this illustration.] Spinel has never met a human. Spinel has never been to Earth. Spinel has no concept of what an organic is asides from the small critters from the garden she presumably spent her entire life within. She has been isolated, abandoned, and now she’s thrust into the world blinded with rage that has left her unable to perceive the vulnerabilities of the individual she is facing.

In this instance Spinel panics and throws her weapon aside alarmed by the strange liquid she now finds her body splattered with. She attempts to distance herself from the collapsing Steven, the atrocity she has just committed, and the expanding substance that gushed from his body's fractures.

Gem’s poof, that is our understanding of their forms being disrupted. The Crystal Gem’s had poofed, Steven, however, Steven hadn’t.

This is when Pink appears:

As a direct result of her attack upon Steven, P!Steven is given space and room to reform himself. This immediately puts Spinel in the position of not only feeling confusion and shock of the situation she’d put herself into as her temper begins to subside and she watches the pink glow overtake the field they stood within. There is a sensation, we’ve all felt it before, its the same one you feel when you get caught with your hand in the cookie jar by your parents. It isn't that she regretted her actions, its that she regretted being caught.

Not only right after it dawns on her that something is wrong but, as she assumes, the very person she’d been driven to this near insanity by.

She reverts a bit here, tries to resolve some of the issues with the newly reformed Pink. She tries to connect with them and apologize for what they were seeing, for what she had done. Underneath her resentment, she doesn't want to be hated by Pink, asides from that she is almost uncertain what she desires. All she knows in this situation is that things have not happened as they should have and now she has been caught.

It’s when P!Steven speaks to her however that a switch gets flicked. As I explained earlier in the post, Spinel fits rather well within the box of abandonment rage. She is a character-based within insecurity that reacts with aggression when she feels threatened as a way of protecting herself.

In these few short panels, P!Steven not only displays disapproval of her, but his change instance implies aggression immediately making her revert to a more defensive state.

This is what causes her change in tone and ultimately the change in her behavior. She is no longer remorseful because she was caught, she’s being rejected again, by the same gem again.

Adding a cherry on top, upon realizing that it wasn’t even who she perceived to be she feels tricked and made a fool of. Somehow, he wasn’t Pink. He hadn’t reverted into his beginning state, no, that pest that kept her from obtaining what she selfishly desired was still present. Her resentment for that craving boils back into her insecurities and feeds the explosive desires beneath it. Rather than apologizing further she takes hold of these emotional shelters and dives into what she feels the most comfortable with, her anger.

Which brings us to today’s page, where we see that beginning to be acted upon. Surely she can fix this, at the very least resolve that judgmental stare that lingers on her. She can make things better for herself.

She won’t let herself be rejected again.

Thanks for coming to my TEDtalk.

Sources:

[Insecurity and Abandonment] [Abandonment Rage] [catathymic definition]

[SU AU Gone Wrong Comic Master Post]

#SU AU Gone Wrong #SU Gone Wrong #Steven Universe #character analysis #Spinel Character Break down #steven universe the movie #Spud speaks #long post #Spinel Abandonment #Trigger warning #TW: Character death #Tw: blood #Tw: stabbing #SU AU Gone Wrong Comic Analysis

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bluebird722 · 4 years

Text

Aftermath of the Dream

Pairing: Damian Wayne/Robin + Raven

Rating: M for explicit sex scene

Author’s Note: As usual, for @tigerdude94, @rachelalghul, @chromium7sky, @lunastar92, @damnshipper, @dcgzilla, @quothxthexravenx, @dcdweeb, @grassfour, @xxitzmikoxx, @andthendk, @unk-vi, @ravenfan1242, @raventrigonsdaughter, @xaphrin, and everyone else who has kept Damirae alive for years.

Post-JLD:AW, right after the Flash runs to create a new Flashpoint...

White faded into black.

***

Two weeks had passed ever since everybody woke up from that horrific dream, but it wasn’t just a dream. Even Titans East—consisting of Speedy and Bumblebee and Kid Flash—had experienced it, being murdered one by one, and they admitted that it felt too real; all three of them woke up in cold sweats. They shared it with Nightwing and Starfire via a video call.

“It’s so strange that you guys felt it, too,” said Speedy. “At this point…I don’t think it even was a dream!”

“Do you think…it was some kind of spell or something, that made us experience it?” asked Blue Beetle.

Damian remained silent, but from what he had gathered and researched, some things—some people—didn’t exist. There was no Superboy of any kind, and he found that "Tara Markov" was the Princess of Markovia who was registered at school under that name. There was no such thing as something called the “H.I.V.E.”, and the Court of Owls was a nickname for the Gotham elite, which Father detested.

Not surprisingly, the other person most affected was the one with ashy milk skin but with no jewel on her forehead. Ever since they all woke up, the two of them were distant from each other. Any time she caught him looking at her, she looked away. When she offered to heal him from an injury during combat training, he backed away and refused. It was obvious that she herself had seen, had felt the romance between them but was unsure of what to make of it.

Two months of awkwardness had passed. In that time, Nightwing had left the Titans to co-mentor Batgirl with Batman, Batwoman, and Batwing but continued to date Starfire. Wonder Woman’s sister, Donna, had moved into the tower without officially joining the team. Beast Boy, the notorious green changeling, had left the Doom Patrol to work solo and then decided to join the Titans. Not to Damian’s surprise, even Garfield admitted to feeling that same dream.

Still, he felt even more distant from Raven, who spent all of her free time meditating and barely talking. It only frustrated him more, even if he himself refused to initiate any conversation with her. Finally, he confronted her after she finished meditating on the roof. She seemed to be expecting him, for she barely lifted her head when she said, “I felt everything, too.”

He stopped and frowned at her. “How do you explain that?” he harshly asked.

She finally met his eyes. “You and me. The dream.”

“Everything?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Everything.”

Damian wasn’t afraid of anything, let alone confrontation, but he felt awkward addressing this.

“And I do not wish to address it,” she said curtly.

“Address what?” he spat.

She didn’t look at him. “The thought…that it would take the deaths of our friends and…they’re our family…” Her eyes closed in sorrow. Damian wanted to speak but didn’t know what to say. “I didn’t like…that you would lead your grandfather’s group of assassins after everyone died.”

Damian frowned. “You didn’t,” he reminded her. “You turned down my offer.”

Her eyes gave him a dangerous glare. “Do I look like the kind of person who would want to lead a number of people who kill?”

Damian frowned. “No—”

“Then what makes you think I would do that, even with all of my friends dead?” she interrupted. “Didn’t you—in that dream—say that you wanted me to, because you had feelings for me?”

Her question was like a slap to the face. Damian continued to frown at her, but his chest ached. No coherent thoughts came to him. “I’m going inside,” he said instead, and he turned around, ignoring her “You didn’t answer my question, Damian.”

He went into his room and picked up his sword. Practice was the best way to release his feelings; he dare not think of talking about them.

***

Two years changed from tension to… Damian couldn’t describe it, but over time, he and Raven were able to make eye contact again. They began to go back to having conversations. Damian adopted a rescue puppy who took to falling asleep on Raven when she read on the couch. He wouldn’t admit it, but her body was still attractive, and he fantasized about stroking her hair. He wanted to pick her up and carry her around bridal style.

For her, it started during a botched robbery. They prevented the theft of a scientific experiment from within a lab, but Damian had suffered a gunshot wound to the shoulder and was bleeding profusely. Raven was quick to rush to his side, remove the bullet, and heal his wound. Even though he insisted that he was fine, everyone else insisted that he still rest in the medical bay. The bullet wound was gone, but everyone from Nightwing to Starfire—both of whom had since joined the League—to Batman had gone to the tower to ensure that the leader of the Titans was all right.

Damian tolerated the attention, but what really surprised him was that Raven nearly hovered around him. He lost track of the number of times she had asked him how he was feeling.

No, he wasn’t lightheaded or dizzy, yes, he could walk in a straight line, yes, he could recite the alphabet backwards, no, he wasn’t having hallucinations… By day two, he was frustrated and asked her why she was acting like this. “I’m fine,” he insisted, doing his best not to clench his teeth. “I honestly am.”

Raven’s eyes snapped from where he had been shot to meet his. “Well, excuse me for being worried,” she said in her usual monotone.

“It’s not that,” he said curtly. “It’s not like I was going to die…”

In an instant, he watched her look to the ground and shuffle her feet. He stared at her until he remembered…the dream…

“You did die once,” she said softly, “and…it may have been a dream…but…it felt so real…”

Damian’s heart skipped a beat. He hesitantly put his hand on top of hers. She snapped her head towards him. If he remembered correctly, from the dream, she had felt helpless but smiled after he subtly reassured her that it was going to be all right. To his excitement, she looked shocked but then relaxed.

He let the sexual tension between them carry on—he kind of liked that she would avoid eye contact with him—until he changed his mind. Luckily, nothing happened that particular day, so he figured that it would be a nice night to invite her to go on patrol with him. She looked surprised but agreed. She opened a portal to the tallest skyscraper, where they scanned in silence.

“I’m rather flattered that you asked me to go on patrol with you,” she said after only ten minutes.

Part of it was an adrenaline rush, but Damian’s heart was pounding so fast that it made his arm ached. “Well, I felt like tonight was the best night that I could think of,” he said.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What?”

Damian glanced at the clock. There were still two hours left. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s move.”

Raven took his hands and flew him around the city, not paying any particular interest to the decoration on the windows of apartments and a few offices. They stopped a robbery in five minutes and hauled away an abusive husband in twenty. As soon as they dropped him off to the police, Raven flew Damian back to the skyscraper and yawned. “It must feel better when you’re patrolling with someone else, when you’re not alone,” she said.

Damian nodded. “I should go on patrol with you more often,” he said. “It does take longer to do it alone.”

Raven smirked. “Glad to hear that little sourpuss is understanding the value of teamwork.”

Damian narrowed his eyes and hunched over a gargoyle. Raven stayed behind and let the wind push her hood off her head. “You know what’s ironic?” she asked rather sadly.

“What?”

Raven hesitated. “There was that couple we broke up today,” she began, “and…it’s Valentine’s Day…”

Damian’s heart felt as though it was a bomb that suddenly exploded. Did she know? How long had she known what day it was? He leaned back on his heels and pushed himself up. “I know it’s Valentine’s Day,” he said, even though he didn’t understand why people celebrated love on the day of some martyred saint from years ago. He was at her side before she noticed. “That’s why…I invited you on patrol with me.”

Raven’s eyes widen to the point where he was sure they would ache. He cautiously reached forward and wrapped his arm around her waist. Almost immediately, she touched the side of his face, and the beating in his heart increased the closer she came to him until she gave him his first kiss.

It was better than in the dream because he knew that they would have more time, more opportunities to kiss. In that moment, his heart yearned for more of what it felt like to love someone, to experience romantic love, the kind of love that put one at greater risk for heartbreak, the love that his mother and grandfather had discouraged from his life.

He wrapped his arms tighter around her waist, and her own wrapped around the back of his neck. They kissed until the clock struck midnight and then resumed patrol, taking down a drug ring and attempted rape within two hours until the sun rose. Raven opened a portal back to the tower so they could rest until the others woke. Outside her room, Damian kissed her again and had no intention of stopping.

***

When Dick and Kory announced their engagement two months later, Damian felt nothing but joy for the annoying older brother and his greatest love. Some, like Donna, saw this as a reminder that everyone was growing up and moving on, but others like Raven saw this as a sign that life was meant to be full of joy and happiness. Few of the Titans suspected that Damian and Raven were making out around the tower or lying on his bed in their downtime, holding hands and smiling but not talking. “Dates” consisted of patrol and swimming in the ocean, combat training and meditation. The closest they had gotten to intimacy was when he took off his turtleneck due to the heat, and she spent so long kissing his chest and shoulders, stroking down his back and arms, and pressing her palms against his neck and abdomen. She really liked the noises he made and the sight of his teeth bared every time she touched a certain spot.

Not surprisingly, he asked her to be his date at Dick and Kory’s wedding. She agreed and pulled him back in for another kiss. Her hand slid under his sweater to feel the softness of his back. A bulge rose against her leg, and she had a tinge of satisfaction for making the former smartass aroused. She sensed it in the manner in which he seized her hip.

In the months leading up to the wedding, Raven could feel the desire growing in him. He had never seen her topless before, so when she allowed him to feel her breasts, she sensed his head ready to explode with…greed, almost. When he found her nipples under her uniform, he wouldn’t stop circling them; the spandex seemed to help with the reactions.

When she was on top, she pulled his turtleneck up to his chest and kissed all over his abdomen. She moved up to his ribs and sternum, arching her back so he could have a nice view of her backside to go with the pecks on his chest. He actually groaned when she kissed down to his pants, but as soon as he felt her caress his belt buckle, the lust came back to him. She was slow to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, and even slower to touch the bulge under his black boxer briefs.

His mouth opened in a silent cry. In that moment, he wanted her to free him. This was too much for even him. She asked with her eyes, and he said yes. She stripped his pants from his legs and pulled forward to remove his sweater. He slid her jacket from her arms and rubbed her bare shoulders.

“Yes,” she whispered, too enthralled to see him lean forward and kiss the tops of her breasts. When it occurred to her, she used her powers to unzip her bustier and let it fall on top of him.

Damian didn’t hesitate to toss it aside and take in the full view of human breasts to himself. He was quick to kiss them, lather his tongue over her nipples, and fondle the glands. She moaned and purred, but he wanted more. One hand stayed on her breast, and the other rode down her abdomen and under her skirt.

Raven threw back her head with a sharp gasp. Damian smirked with her nipple in his mouth and remembered what he had learned from the awkward and uncomfortable video he saw that explained sex and pleasure, and where women were most sensitive. He stroked the hard nub in a circular motion and inched downward to feel her entrance.

She hissed when he pushed in two fingers and clenched around him. Her nipple escaped his lips, and she replaced it with her mouth. Her hand went back to massaging his crotch and outlining his shape.

“You don’t ever have to hide anything from me, you know that, right?” she asked against his lips.

Damian’s hips began to jerk forward, as though he was on the verge of orgasm. She shushed him and guided his hand to keep pleasuring her. “I could do this all day,” he confessed.

“So could I,” she whispered, even though her arm felt like thousands of needles were piercing her flesh.

They kissed and fondled each other until someone cried out for them—Jaime, saying that the League was on call. The birds flushed, and Raven was quick to redress herself into her uniform; Damian was relieved that she used her powers to dress him quickly. Unfortunately, when the two entered the common room at the same time, Raven felt Batman’s eyes on her and his son, as though he knew that the two had just touched each other intimately.

The Titans were quick to stop the attack on Metropolis and overpower the criminals in half the time that it would have taken the League. They didn’t stop for pictures or interviews, though, but chose to return to San Francisco. Back in the safety of the tower, Damian and Raven shook off the adrenaline with a quick swim in the ocean.

Aside from caresses to the thighs and backrubs, Damian and Raven couldn’t bring themselves back to their heated moment. It was easier to wait until they weren’t at risk of interruption again. Even though they still kissed and stroked each other, Raven wouldn’t forget the feeling of his length in her hand. He missed kissing her chest and feeling sparks of electricity under her touch. In the privacy of his own room, he started to dream heavily about sex and what lovemaking would feel like.

***

Dick and Kory got married on the anniversary of when they first met. Damian was happy to be a groomsman to fill in for Speedy, who was unable to make it due to an undercover mission involving some assassin who shared the name of some kind of cheese. Raven was absolutely stunning in violet satin, her hair clipped back and loosely curled. He couldn’t focus on Kory, in her white gown and bun with Dick escorting his bride, because Raven was there and he couldn’t look away. Sometimes she smiled and winked at him, but in that space of a second, Damian just wanted to stomp over and get her out of that church.

The vows and pictures seemed to stretch on longer than Dick and Kory originally planned, and Damian had never before felt so impatient. Luckily, he got to sit beside Raven in the limo and keep his hand on her lower back. They danced at the reception, and Damian had never before laughed so hard. He wasn’t a great dancer, but it was easier with his and Raven’s shoes off, and as long as he looked into her eyes. They wished Dick and Kory all of the best in the world and made babysitting jokes, knowing that the newlyweds hoped to start a family soon.

Even after the happy couple left for their honeymoon, Damian and Raven slow-danced with the other Titans and Leaguers, Raven’s head on his shoulder and his fingertips tracing her spine so slowly that she shivered with goosebumps. He inhaled the scent of her hair and nearly closed his eyes, almost on the verge of falling asleep, when he caught his father’s gaze in his direction. Bruce didn’t look angry or pleased, but Damian suspected that his father’s expression had something to do with the girl in his arms.

“I’ll be right back,” he whispered to Raven.

“Okay,” she whispered back. Her voice melted his heart.

Damian reluctantly let go of her and walked past Constantine and Zatanna to Bruce, the former ready for any embarrassing interrogation. He stood up straight and slid his hands into his pockets. “Yes, Father?”

Bruce stared hard at his biological son. “I will only ask this once,” he said in a low voice, “because I am your father and seek only the truth: Are you two being safe?”

Damian knew that he would ask something like that, but it still felt like a punch to the sternum and made his face red. He swallowed. “If it pleases you, Father, we have not gone that far.”

Bruce gave him the famous glare that made even supervillains cold to the bone. Damian crossed his arms. Then Bruce relaxed himself. “I believe you,” he said, “but understand, nevertheless, how important it is to be careful and protect yourself.”

Damian wished that his father was seriously not confronting him about this in a wedding reception, where other people could be listening, but he nevertheless fought the urge to lash out at his billionaire father. “I appreciate your concern, Father,” he said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go back to my…”

He couldn’t finish. Instead, he turned around and went back to Raven, speaking animatedly with Donna. When she saw him, Donna politely excused himself to go back to her sister. Damian worried how much she knew or suspected. Raven, however, still looked pleased to see him and held out her hand. They danced until they were tired, and Raven opened a portal back to the tower.

The couple kissed outside her door until he motioned for her to turn around and unzipped her gown for her. He kissed all over her bare back, thankful that she didn’t wear a bra, and snaked his hands around her abdomen under her gown. Her head fell back against her shoulder, her throat bulging. He kissed up and down her neck and pushed his hands up to cup her erect breasts. She let the straps fall from her shoulders, and an aurora of excitement clouded his mind. He walked behind her into her room and stroked the front of her body until her dress bunched at her waist. Then he took to stroking the waistband of her lace bikini panties and feeling for any sensitive areas. Eventually, the material fell from her body, but before he could go any further, she spun around, kissed him, and tugged on his tie.

She kissed down the side of his neck and took her time removing his tuxedo but spent too long caressing his back. They unbuckled his belt together, and he pulled down his pants by himself. In a bold move, he picked her up, causing her teeth to painfully hit his lip, and carried her to her bed, falling with her. The lace was so sexy on her, but he just wanted to rip it off of her and feel the sensation of sex, of lovemaking. He wanted only her, and he couldn’t think of ever falling in love with someone else. His lips traced the dark line leading down her abdomen, and he kissed the inside of her knees and thighs. There was a good chance that this would lead to sex, and the thought sent his heart pounding in his ears, but he was determined to make love, to make up for their being products of rape.

“Damian,” she gasped with heavily lidded eyes.

In that space of a second, Damian worried that she didn’t want this and was not ready to go that far. The pounding in his ears made it hard for him to listen to what she said at first. “What?”

Her fingertip traced his upper lip. “How far…do you…”

Damian swallowed. “As far as you want it,” he said timidly.

Her hands smoothed down her ribs and abdomen, and touched between his legs. “I don’t know…but I might be…given that I’m hybrid…but to be safe…”

Her fingers lowered to her own crotch. He watched her caress her own groin and abdomen while she muttered something in a language unfamiliar to him. It was lovely. She stopped and reached for him again. “Contraceptive charm,” she explained.

Before Damian could flush in embarrassment and shame that he forgot about his father’s warning, she stroked his length, and he slowly removed his last article of clothing at an angle that would hide him from her. She removed her own herself and bashfully felt herself, hoping she was as ready as her heart.

He put his hand over hers and followed her movements. “Are you nervous?” he whispered.

Raven swallowed and nodded.

Damian grazed his lips over hers and tried not to bite his lip. “If…If I’m…” He became mad at himself for speaking so timidly. “You’ll let me know if I…”

“Yes,” she interrupted. “Just…be gentle…”

Damian kissed her forehead and stroked her soft hair. She looked so different around when aroused and nervous yet excited.

Her hand slid from under his to place on top of his. He grazed over her labia and fingered her clit. They spent twenty minutes exploring that part of her, figuring out what aroused her best. She withered on the bed and panted at certain spots that he didn’t want to pull away from. He found her entrance and slid in two fingers, massaging her interior in small circles.

Eventually, he pulled away and pressed a long kiss to the center of her ribcage. He used two fingers to widen her, even with her legs parted, and closed his eyes. When he pushed against her, she bit her lip and tried to clear her mind. His breathing dried her lips, and then he pushed himself halfway in.

It didn’t hurt as badly as she had feared, but it burned and stung at the same time. She hissed and gripped his shoulders. “Slow,” she winced.

When he finally inched all of himself in, after several seconds of winces and chokes, Damian closed his eyes and relished in the feeling. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Remember…”

He knew what she meant, and he was determined to go slow until she said he could speed up. He shakily kissed her again, taking his time rocking his hips, and closed his eyes.

Pain faded into pleasure the more she concentrated on the feeling of his back and the softness of his hair. He was now too slow. “A little faster,” she encouraged him.

Damian took his time going faster, listening for her grunts of pleasure and holding her folded leg against his hip. When she rocked her hips against his, he pushed himself to meet her needs and picked up the pace.

Raven arched her back and neck, unable to hold on any longer. He roughened her nipple with his thumb and finger, grunting into her shoulder, and hissing in pleasure. He wanted this to be a good, memorable first time for both of them, and he wanted her to feel every possible bit of pleasure.

In that dream, the one that everyone had experienced, they did not have the opportunity to share more than one kiss. This, however, was reality, and Damian did not want reality to go to waste.

Damian slept dreamlessly until someone not him exhaled. When he opened his eyes, he saw her in his arms, her back to him. Flashbacks from the night before came back to him, and he closed his eyes once more. That was no dream, he knew. It was all reality, and he wouldn’t have it in any other way.

***

Within the first year that Damian and Raven were sexually active, Dick and Kory welcomed a healthy baby girl, with her mother’s skin and eyes, and her father’s black hair. Everybody, Titans and Leaguers and independent heroes, gathered to meet the newborn. Damian was incredibly awkward holding Mar’i, who snored in the crook of his arm, but when he looked at her little face, full of innocence, he knew that he would do anything to keep her safe and protect her from harm.

After Raven had her turn cradling Mar’i, she leaned against Damian’s shoulder and stroked the back of his hand. He watched his predecessor lower his baby girl into her crib and kiss the center of her forehead. Damian thought less about the dream that overwhelmed him, but he remembered the vain attempt to bring back his brother and his wish to keep the insane person alive nonetheless. Even that Dick wouldn’t be able to appreciate the joy and toil of fatherhood, which Damian thought might as well be in his own future. Talking to new parents over the sleeping baby made it harder for him to leave and go back to the tower.

Before they kissed all the way to his bed, Raven pulled away and stroked the side of his face. “Are you all right?”

Damian reflected on life since the dream, how Titans came and went, some villains changed sides or lived quiet lives, his relationship with his father improving, his becoming team leader, Dick changed from older-brother figure to devoted father, and especially how his relationship with Raven had progressed much differently than he expected. They still had time together, and whatever direction their relationship went, he didn’t want to look back or think of what could have been.

“I can’t imagine myself being any better,” he said with a kiss to her lips, closing the door behind him. He followed her to the bed as she used her powers to pull him towards the bed into a world that would have no ending.

#damirae #fanfiction #damian wayne #robin #raven #dick grayson #nightwing #titans #teen titans #starfire #koriand'r #bruce wayne #batman #justice league #justice league dark: apokolips war

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