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#spent five whole minutes shit talking other nurses

topguncortez · 1 year

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Day 29: What Doesn't kill me. . . . ➣prompt: ALT- touch starved ➣character: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Shy!Wife ➣warnings: mentions of scars, mentions of near death, mentions of out of body experiences, heart surgery, Jake has PTSD ➣note: I apologize cause this is shit but it can be read as a part 2 to Day 6 ➣masterlist | whumptober | library

It had been nearly three months since the accident, and Jake was walking on pins and needles around everyone. The surgery to save her life had been successful, the team of doctors had managed to stop the clot before it caused Y/N’s heart to stop. Jake never left her side once he got to see her after that. It took about twenty-four hours for Y/N to open her eyes, and Jake nearly bursted into tears at the sight. It had been weeks since he had seen those eyes that he loved so much. Jake watched from the side of the room as doctors and nurses began their evaluation on Y/N, checking the incisions on her body, taking her for an MRI of her brain, running tests on her heart to make sure she was strong enough.

Y/N had passed every test with flying colors and was determined more than ever to get home to her kids. She hadn’t seen or held her kids in nearly a month. She wasn’t sure if it was a coma induced dream, but she could remember hearing Ella and Alex talking to her. Jake had acquired the help of Rooster and Bob to get the house ready for Y/N to come home. She miraculously didn’t have any broken bones, it was just that her heart was weak.

The first night home was a clusterfuck of a disaster. Y/N was nervous and excited to be home, and so was Jake. They had spent an additional week post surgery for Y/N to do physical therapy and get stronger. The doctors recommneded for her to stay longer but she kindly told them to go fuck themselves. Jake drove under the speed limit, his green eyes fluttering back and forth from the road to her, making sure that she wasn’t in pain. When they got to the house, it took nearly five minutes to walk from the driveway to the front door, Y/N having to stop and catch her breath. And as soon as they got in the door, five pairs of feet came running towards her.

“Careful!” Jake scolded his kids, “Hey! All of you, go sit!” Jake didn’t like yelling at his kids, it reminded him too much of the way his father yelled at him, but he had to. Y/N looked ready to pass out as she stood in the doorway trying to hold her kids.

The night was very overwhelming between Jake and the kids, and members of the dagger squad being over. Y/N felt like her head was swimming the whole night long, and all she wanted to do was to go to sleep. Jake did his best trying to wrangle the kids, but it was a lot of work. Y/N wasn’t strong enough to really do anything but sit and watch Jake try to stop Eli from jumping on the couch next to his mother. Alex and Ella somewhat understood that they had to be careful, but the younger three Seresin kids didn’t quite get it.

“Jake, I need to go to bed,” Y/N said, her voice cracking as the living room filled with the loud screams of Maxwell Seresin.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Jake said, trying to soothe his son. Y/N felt helpless as she watched Phoenix take the screaming child out of Jake’s arms and walked to another part of the house. Rooster, Bob, and Coyote were working on getting the other kids ready for bed. She tried to put a smile on her face as Jake helped her up from the couch and walked her down the hallway towards their bedroom.

After that night, she was more determined than ever to get back to full health. She couldn’t stand by and not be able to go run with her kids or help Jake around the house. Jake had taken off work so he could be there to help her, from taking the kids to school to taking her to doctors appointments. Jake learned all he possibly could about how to help her recover, and Y/N loved him for it.

But now that some of her restrictions were loosening, Y/N felt herself more than ever being at odds with Jake. She didn’t notice it at first, her body and mind were still weak, but Jake would hardly touch her. It was never more than just a hand on her back to help her walk down the hallway, or his arms wrapping around her body to help her stand from the bed, or a hand through her hair when he’d help her shower. Y/N couldn’t remember the last time he had kissed her. And everytime one of the kids would get close to hugging her, Jake would tell them not to or to be extra careful. She was missing human touch, she was missing the touch of her husband.

Jake was putting the kids to bed as Y/N was brushing her hair at her vanity. She smiled to herself looking at her reflection in the mirror. She was wearing one of Jake’s favorite robes, a black satin number with lace fringe. Underneath she was wearing a matching black lace bra and panties, something she knew would drive her husband absolutely mad. Y/N had gotten the all clear from her doctor (after much of her consistent asking) that she could finally have sex with her husband. Y/N needed the intimacy, she needed the loving touch of Jake on her skin.

“I swear, those kids take a shot of espresso right before bed,” Jake said as he walked into the bedroom. He flopped down on the bed on his stomach with his eyes closed. Y/N set her brush down and turned to face him, opening the top of the robe slightly. Jake opened one of his eyes, looking at her. His breath caught in his throat as he pushed himself up a bit, looking at her with both his gorgeous green eyes.

“Whatcha wearin’, sweets,” Jake asked. A smirk graced Y/N’s lips as she got off the bench she was sitting on and walked over to her husband.

“Oh just this old thing,” She said. Jake sat up against the pillows and the headboard, as she climbed onto the bed. He watched her every move as she found herself seated in his lap, “I missed you.”

“You see me every day,” He chuckled.

“I know, but I can still miss you,” She picked up his hands, intertwining them with her own. His eyes became blown with lust as they saw the tops of her breasts pushed up in her bra. His breath hitched as Y/N leaned forward and began to kiss his neck.

“What are you doing, sweets?” Jake asked, as she put his hands on her hips, and began to grind down in his lap.

“What does it look like?” Y/N pulled away, “Trying to engage in foreplay with my husband,” She rushed out before planting her lips on his. Jake kissed her back, holding her close to him for a moment. And then it was like an alarm went off in his head, as he grabbed her and set her down off his lap.

“I can’t,” Jake said, and got off the bed, going for the bathroom.

“And why not!” Y/N yelled. Jake sighed as he stood in the doorway, “For weeks I’ve been trying to get you to touch me and nothing! It shouldn’t be this hard to get my husband to fucking touch me! What is your problem!? Why won’t you-”

“YOU DIED!” Jake yelled, turning around quickly. His chest was red with anger, and she could see the vein in his forehead beginning to throb, “You fucking died, Y/N. Your heart stopped beating. And it’s my fault. All of this is my fault!”

Jake hadn’t cried in front of her. He told himself that he couldn’t, that the second he broke and cried in front of her, it was going to break the facade that he was okay. But he wasn’t, Jake Seresin was far from okay. The day of the accident played in his mind every time he got into the car. He had gotten a new one, thanks to the insurance check, but it still terrified him. Every single thing he did, he did with extra caution, whether that was putting the kids in their carseats, or stopping at a red light. Y/N hadn’t even noticed that Jake gripped the wheel extra tight when he drove, sometimes he gripped it so hard his hands would cramp.

“Jake, the accident wasn’t your fault. The other driver was-”

“I know what the reports said,” Jake sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “I’ve read them over and over and over again to where I can probably recite them perfectly. I know the other driver was drunk and hit us head on. I know that there was nothing I could do to prevent that. I know all that. . . but it’s still my fault.”

Y/N climbed off the bed quickly and crossed the floor to get to him. Jake closed his eyes as she picked up his hand and held it to her chest. He felt tears rise in his eyes at the feeling of her warm skin against his hand. He could feel her heart beating in her chest, and the scar that ran down the center of her sternum.

“I am alive because of you, Jake,” Y/N said, “I heard what you said to me. When you told me to let go, that you would be okay if I needed to go. You helped me to decide if I was going to fight to stay or not. Every single day you would come in and tell me something about the kids or the dagger squad or about the weather. . . I heard it all. And trust me, when they started shocking me and doing CPR, I wanted to give up, I wanted to let go. . . but I couldn’t because of you.”

Y/N had only told her therapist about everything that she experienced when she was in the coma. Y/N thought she was going crazy, having all these vivid memories of the time spent in the hospital, but her therapist said that those memories were real. That it wasn’t uncommon for patients to have out of body experiences and see the world from the other side. Jake had tears streaming down his cheeks as his finger gently ran down the scar on her chest. He had been avoiding looking at it, seeing it as a constant reminder of the worst day of his life. But now, he could see the beauty in it. It didn’t hinder her beautiful skin, it added to it. It made her that much more special.

“Touch me, please,” Y/N cried, “I need you to just hold me.”

Jake nodded, and for the first time in so long, Jake held his wife in his arms.

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holdmeclosertinytaron · 1 year

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A little catch up!!

Ahhhh it feels like forever since I've properly posted on here. I promise I'm still alive, life has just been kicking my ass this year and it's been a lot to juggle. So here's a little rundown for you all...

In January I had to have an ultrasound on my abdomen due to intermittent, excruciating pain. Turns out I have gallstones (yay!). The doctor was referring my to general surgery to discuss options which was fine.

In February I had the gallbladder pain bad and wound up bed ridden for five days after unable to eat or drink. I slept continuously for almost 24 hours and my mum was getting worried about me because I started to turn yellow. I'm talking fully minion yellow. So I ended up in A&E where I spent five of the shortest hours of my life waiting to find out what was going on. I was put on a fluids drip because I'd only had 500 ml of water in four days.

I spoke to a lovely surgeon at like 1am who was quite surprised that I knew what she was talking about (thanks Grey's Anatomy for that. You're a real one). She told me that she would like it for me to stay overnight but she knew I wanted to go home so she let me home but made me promise I would go back to the hospital the following day for an MRCP and more blood tests because some of my levels were really high.

I got a call the next day telling me that my scan had been scheduled for the following morning so to take the day to rest and that I didn't need to go in. I still wasn't eating or drinking. I wasn't hungry and I was so exhausted it was awful.

I had the scan and then I went to the surgical same day emergency care department where I had blood drawn and had to wait for an hour for results. I was finally starting to get thirsty but I couldn't have a drink of anything in case I needed emergency surgery. A doctor came to speak to me and he said I had more gallstones than they first thought but they were no longer blocking a duct like they were before so I could go home. I just had to go back again the day after for another blood test to make sure my bilirubin and haemoglobin levels had sorted themselves out. Fun.

The following day I went back and had even more blood drawn. Before this whole ordeal I was petrified of needles. Now I just give them my arm and tell them to go to town. I was allowed to drink that time so a nurse made me the worst cup of tea of my life, bless her. Not her fault, the teabags they use at the hospital aren't the ones I'm used to. That's besides the point.

Another doctor came to speak to me and asked me how I was doing. I told him I felt fine again and as though nothing had happened. He was glad I was feeling better and said as long as my levels had dropped he was happy to sign me off and let me wait for general surgery to get in touch with me.

My levels had dropped enough to go home!!

A couple of weeks later I got a letter from general surgery with an appointment for the 4th of April. Perfect. My fear of hospitals was no more because I'd been so much bad in February so off I went with my mum to this appointment with a consultant.

What a laugh that was. Throughout this whole thing, my weight hadn't been mentioned once. I had only dealt with one male doctor at this point too and that was a phone call to tell me I had gallstones. Every other doctor, nurse and surgeon I'd spoken to were women and not one of them mentioned my weight.

Now I know I'm overweight. It isn't a secret. I am fat. But to have a surgeon look at you and talk to you for fifteen minutes about your weight, while looking at your mum instead of you, that shit is awful. He didn't know why I was there. He thought I'd been rushed through from the GP for surgery asap (I thought I was getting surgery asap too).

For a whole twenty minutes he said I would need to be referred back to my GP and put on a weight loss programme otherwise I couldn't have the surgery and that waiting for surgery is dangerous because of how easily a stone can block a duct and such. He then proceeded to make it sound as if he thought I would find it difficult to cut out 'nice things'. I made him acutely aware that since I had been in the hospital, I had eaten fresh, lean meat everyday with potatoes and vegetables. I have cut out pretty much all fat from my diet and happily sat back while everyone else in the house has had chocolate.

I don't find cutting things out of my diet hard. I find it hard to be sitting in front of a man telling me that I have to go on a weight reduction programme and that it will take hard work and dedication, as though I don't know what they mean.

Said consultant sent me for even more bloods to make sure my liver function is okay which I totally get. And then he referred me back to the GP so they can refer me to this programme which could take months.

All the while I still have gallstones that could cause pain at any given time. I have no clue when I'm getting surgery so I have to live with this for however long, not knowing when it's going to strike and eating the most boring foods with no fun snacks.

It is debilitating living life not knowing when you're going to be in the worst pain of your life. I wouldn't wish gallstone/gallbladder pain on my worst enemy it is hell. It comes on suddenly with absolutely no warning and it can last anywhere from an hour to five hours. I have to sit with two hot water bottles, one on my front and one on my back, and not move. It makes me throw up, it makes me sob uncontrollably, and it makes me feel like such a failure.

So that's why I've been quiet recently. I've been dealing with lots of health things and have been spending more time trying to focus on me than anything else. HOWEVER, these past two days have been spent working tirelessly with my angel @brayndilyn to write some of the big fic coming this year. I can't wait to share it with you!! We love it and we hope you do too.

#That was a long ass post #sorry!!#Life update #health update #gallbladder pain sucks #that surgeon sucks #everything sucks #but at least I'm not afraid of needles anymore #that's something #the surgeon who I spoke to in a&e also like Grey's and reading so we had such a fun chat #she made me a diagram of the gallbladder and my liver and it's somewhere in my room #i kept it because it was cool and she treated me like a person which was refreshing

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unrequitedloveletter · 2 months

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Hello! Can I ask what working in a nursing home is like? Like the training & how hard it is,, it’s one of the careers I’m interested in doing :^) 👾

Hi, anon! I work as a long term care assistant (LTCA) which is a temporary position wherein I basically just kind of assist the continuing care assistants (CCAs) so I probably don't know as much as CCAs or like,, registered nurses who work in a similar environment to the one I'm in, but here's what I can tell you after exactly four weeks of working in a seniors/assisted living home.

I am operating off the assumption you might end up as an LTCA or a CCA and giving you what I know based on that.

all of it is below the cut because I rambled off at the mouth a little, and just a note: all of the stuff I talk about is based on my own experience so far. Everything you're reading is from my own unique perspective and I, in no way, am trying to represent the whole of people who work in nursing homes under any kind of a position be it my own or something like housekeeping/working as the RN. This is just my perspective and how I feel about my job and the environment in which I have worked for nearly a full month now. As I keep working my perspective may change but this is my perspective on everything as of March 8th, 2024.

The training, for me, was very simple almost?? I had five shifts that week and two days off, and three of those shifts were spent orientating.

Before the orientating though, I had to go through about nine hours of training through a program I'm not going to list bc I don't know if it's used very commonly anywhere outside of my specific organization and I simply do not want to check right now. I don't know how other orgs will do it but if you do get into working in this environment you may end up with orientating shifts + an online training program.

If you're stuck with something similar, just try to keep a level head about it and unless you only have like, two days to do it (I had close to a week) take your time with it.

Even then, where you can, take a breather, bc if you have eight hours of training to do it will get very boring very fast and you'll be staring at your laptop screen like "aughhhhhhhh what" within thirty minutes. I speak from experience with that.

BACK TO THE ORIENTATING THOUGH!! I had three full days of orientating + one four hour day wherein I signed paperwork and took a lil tour of the building before the three days of orientation.

Orientating is the fucking worst imo but that's just because, when you're working in a nursing home with zero prior experience, it's not a fucking cakewalk, and you have to learn a lot of shit while you're orientating and you're going to come home and cry because it's new and your feet hurt.

If you're anything like me, you'll genuinely debate quitting multiple times in your first orientating shifts but stick it out my friend. it's gonna get easier as the routine gets settled into your bones.

HOWEVER, a piece of advice I have is this: ask your orientater if they've previously worked on the floor you'll end up working on after you've finished orientating if you're going to be working on different floors from one another. If your situation ends up similar to mine (wherein you and your orientater are the only two LTCAs on one specific shift rotation of the two) then the answer will likely be yes, though I wouldn't say it's a guarantee.

If it's yes and you'll be working on 1st or 2nd primarily after orientation but are being trained/orientated on 3rd, ask them to train you on 1st and 2nd or to spend some time there so you can familiarize yourself with it a bit. It's something I wish I had done--I was trained mostly on 3rd and had gone to 2nd maybe once or twice in three days of orientating, but since the end of my orientation I've been working on 2nd. Had I asked to maybe see about training on 2nd I would've saved myself the week worth of shifts it took me to adjust to working on 2nd and thus I would've gotten the hang of things quicker.

in terms of how hard it is, the truth is that once you get past the learning curve of stuff, the routines settle into your system and mentally it kind of feels like taking a load off, but my first piece of advice is this: either before you get paid or with your first paycheck, invest in some compression socks and good quality shoes.

I did my first eight shifts with crappy thrifted nikes and my feet screamed bloody murder the entire time, so with my first paycheck I ordered a pair of hokas, which are pretty expensive depending on the shoe you get, but i refuse to wear any other pair of shoes I have to work. My hokas are my favorite pair of shoes i’ve ever owned bc they’re comfy and while the pain in my feet hasn’t diminished wearing the comfy shoes makes it easier to handle most days.

ALSO ON THAT NOTE: regardless of the position you're in at the nursing home, walking a lot and standing the majority of your day is almost a guarantee. I wear my fibit to work bc when I first started I was determined that I'd walk 300k steps by the time my contract was done. The contract just got extended bc they're still providing funding for my job, and since I started working I've taken 150k steps.

To put into perspective how long the hours can get: when you're an LTCA or a CCA, you work twelve hour days. At my job, I work seven shifts in two weeks. Six of them are twelves, one of them is an eight, but the math adds up and I work 80 hours in those two weeks. CCAs can get mandated to work certain shifts + days as far as I know, but LTCAs can't and don't get mandated to work nights or anything like that (continuing care assistants who might be reading this ramble can correct me if I'm wrong, I've heard my coworkers who are CCAs discussing mandates though lol) I've worked at my place of employment for four weeks and haven't encountered mandates or anything like that in my own scheduling lol

time to talk about how hard it can sometimes be mentally bc despite how easy stuff gets once you learn the rhythm and figure out your own place in the work ecosystem, it's not always gonna be sunshines and rainbows. Especially not in a place like a seniors assisted living home.

The twelve hour shifts can take a big toll on you, so just--be cautious! Know yourself well enough to know whether or not you can handle it decently and know when self care is necessary. Working back-to-back twelve hours fuckin sucks and bc that's likely how it'll be if you wind up in a seniors home, just do check ins whenever you have your break.

If you sit down to eat your lunch and think "three days of this bullshit but I'm halfway done til I have off days. I'm gonna watch my comfort media and eat the pint of ice cream in the freezer once I'm home" then go home at the end of your shift and do that. It might not be the most conventional form of self care necessarily, but after my bad shifts I always come home, cry for a bit and then watch either The Princess Bride, Saw, Shadow & Bone or one of the two Kingsman movies so I can't judge anyone who does what I do. Yesterday I had a shift that felt longer than half of the ones I do normally and I came home, took an edible, and then spent the next few hours high as a fuckin kite and had the time of my life. Self care looks different for everyone and just be mindful of when you need it.

Another thing to note: if you aren't really able to handle hearing about people dying, being moved to palliative care, or being diagnosed with cancer and other diseases, then working in a nursing home may not be to your speed. After almost a month, one of the things I've noticed by this point is that I'll hear about peoples deaths, people who've been moved to palliative care or have been diagnosed with something, casually and at least once every couple of days. It's a pretty commonplace thing to discuss, and I should also note that it's never EVER discussed lightly or maliciously--coworkers ask about things and stuff like that will just come up in conversation when residents are discussed as well, and I mostly just hear about it and then have to focus on something different bc hearing that stuff brought up so casually, even in that environment, is kind of jarring. I never hear that talk outside of work so it's taking a bit of getting used to.

I, again, am just an LTCA where I work and don't do everything that the CCAs do (like, for instance, changing residents, dressing or bathing them) but I'm going to tag this as needed and if a CCA sees this and wants to add their experiences, they can feel free to do so!

On a last note: nowhere you work is going to be drama free a hundred percent of the time, and you might just end up working with someone you dislike. At my work, there's really not much drama between coworkers (off the top of my head I can think of two instances, one from while I was first orientating and the other just from the shifts I worked this week) and that might be the case in loads of other places, but you might not be able to escape it and yes, it will always be annoying and make you feel like you're in high school again.

to touch on the working with people you dislike bit--that's not a guarantee but it's very likely. Let's just hope you don't go into working in a nursing home and then end up hating a coworker you see every single day because if you do, it'll fucking suck. I unfortunately strongly dislike someone I see every single day (sometimes for up to an hour!!) bc she's condescending in tone and also glance. She will look at me like I'm the dirt on the ground she blesses by walking upon it and talk to me like I'm three and don't know anything. I've cried four times in one shift bc of her and she is the reason I know it's safe to cry in the bathroom on 3rd and then act like you're fine and have people believe you when you say you are lol.

All in all, you'll love and hate it at the same time. There'll be shifts where you're like "I want to quit. what the fuck am I doing this job for when I hate it so much I want to quit working here and then never come again." but, as someone who's spent the last three weeks pulling through to see myself to the decent days, you'll make it past wanting to quit until the urge to quit comes up again, then you'll make it past the urge another five bazillion times before you stop wanting to quit, and by that point you'll probably either love your job wholly or be able to comfortably retire.

If I missed anything in my ramble, or if there's anything specific you want me to talk about more in depth, please feel free to reach out and I can make another post! I could genuinely probably talk about my job all the live long fuckin' day and if you want to know more I'll happily talk more about it lol.

#cal talks #nursing home #continuing care assistant #CCA #LTCA #assisted living #tw: death mention #tw: palliative care mention #tw: cancer mention

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onebourbon-oneshot-onetear · 3 years

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Letterkenny- 5 Times Wayne Fell in Love With You

(Not my Gif)

Notes: This was meant to be a quick little oneshot, but it ended up being five pages long. I figured since there are a few Letterkenny fics I would have to write some myself lol

Warnings: Language (it's Letterkenny, duh...), ooc for Wayne? Fluff?

1. Whenever you helped with the chorin’

- When you were sitting outside, drinking some Puppers in the sun in the middle of an afternoon

- There weren’t enough chairs, but you didn’t mind, so you took your usual seat on the ground next to Wayne so you could lean against his legs

- You had lost track about what exactly the boys were talking about, but it didn’t matter. You were just happy to be sitting around with your friends

-Wayne nudged your head with his knee and you were jolted back into the conversation

- “What do you think, Miss/Mr. y/n?” Dan asked you

- “About what?” you asked

- “Going to MoDean’s for drinks,” Daryl said

- “Sure, I’ll go. When are we going?” You asked

-Wayne gently moved your head from his leg so you didn’t whack it on the chair and stood up. - “As soon as the chorin’ is done, which I was supposed to get help with,” He said, glaring at Dan and Daryl

-You tapped Wayne’s leg so he looked down at you. You held both hands up above your head, silently asking him to help you up.

-He took both your hands and hauled you off the ground with essentially no effort because of the wonderful muscles he hid under his flannels

-As soon as you were on your feet you turned around and started marching towards some of the hay bales

- “Pitter patter, let’s get at ‘er,” You said as you left

- Your back was to the boys so you missed the smile and head nod that Wayne had thrown to your retreating figure

- “y/n isn’t afraid to help with the chorin’, and that’s one of the things I appreciates about them,” Dan said

- “Take 20% off there Squirrely Dan,” Wayne said before marching off to follow you, who was already picking up a hay bale and throwing onto the back of the truck.

2. When you take care of everybody after they’re drinking

- It was hard to imagine since you spent all your time with the group, but you weren’t a big drinker

- You would spend the whole night nursing a beer or two or doing a few shots

-You were definitely the most responsible with alcohol out of everyone

- Which meant it was very often you were stuck with the aftermath of the drinking

- It wasn’t unusual for you to have to shove everyone in Wayne’s truck and drive them all home

- Getting everyone in the truck was the hardest part

-On really bad nights, the three boys were the worst

- “Daryl, I swear to fuck if you try and put your nipples on me one more time, I’m ripping them off,” you growled while helping Gail with putting all the empty bottles on the bar

- “Do you’s want to race me?” Dan barely slurred out, leaning against the bar to catch his balance

- “No, Dan, I don’t,” You rolled your eyes and grabbed the last few bottles and handed them to Gail

-Wayne was fairly easy, he was sitting at the end of the bar, giving a few adorable chuckles about nothing every few minutes

-Finally the bar looked somewhat back to normal and you waved goodbye to Gail and started herding the boys.

-Daryl ran at you with his shirt off, and keeping your promise, gave him the biggest purple nurple he had ever received

-He just laughed at it, but boy would he feel it in the morning

-Dan was now trying to get Wayne to race him, but Wayne was still giggling to himself

- “Hey you two, why don’t you see who can get to the truck first,” you called to Dan and Daryl, and they both damn near tripped over themselves to see who could get there first.

-Daryl definitely won

- You put your arm around Wayne’s shoulders and helped him off the bar stool.

- He flashed you the biggest smile and you were reminded that you actually loved seeing Wayne this drunk because it was the only time he actually relaxed

- “You’re a great fucking gal/guy, y/n” Wayne said between chuckles

-The heat rose to your cheeks, but you assumed he was only saying that because he was so drunk

- “So are you Wayne, now let’s get you home,” You said, leading him to the truck

-Daryl had his bare chest on the door of the car, but you didn’t want to bother with it. You would just let Wayne kick his ass tomorrow

-All the boys were put in the truck and you started your rounds of taking them home

-You got Dan and Daryl to their front doors before you headed to Wayne's house

-Katy said you could stay in her room since she was staying at a guys house for the night

-Don’t worry, you had already threatened the guy with death if he so much as thought about hurting her

- You got Wayne up the stairs and into bed, politely taking his boots off and innocently taking off his jeans and tucked him into bed

-He would give a quiet giggle every few minutes, but he was definitely on the verge of falling asleep

-You got him a glass of water and some ibuprofen and put them on his bedside table before falling asleep in Katy’s room

-The next morning, Wayne would be awoken to the smell of breakfast and he would make his way downstairs to see you in the kitchen in a pair of shorts and an oversized shirt

-He would sit at the table with his head down and you would pour him a cup of juice and set it down in front of him

- “Y/n, thanks for getting us all home,” He would say, albeit much quieter than he usually talked. Probably because of the hangover

- “You’re welcome, Sweetie,” You would say with a huge smile on your face, which would earn you a glare from Wayne, but it would disappear as soon as you put food in front of him. Instead it would be replaced with a grateful smile

-Because he knew you were a great fucking gal/guy

3. When you took care of Stormy

-You loved dogs.

-Like, loved dogs

-More than you loved almost anything else

-So when Stormy wouldn’t leave the barn, you were worried sick

-Wayne was too, but he would never show it

-He would call the vet but even in the small town of Letterkenny the vet wasn’t available 24 hours a day

- When the vet said they couldn’t be there for another day or two, you were devastated

- Wayne said Stormy would be fine for a few days and this wasn’t the first time it had happened

-But that didn’t matter much to you

- So for that whole day you didn’t stray too far from the barn where Stormy was laying

- Katy even brought food out to you when you didn’t want to come in for dinner

-Knowing that you wouldn’t want to leave the poor shepherd for too long, Katy got the couch made up for you to stay with her and Wayne

-He was pretty used to you hanging around the house anyway so it was no surprise and he just accepted it

-What he didn’t expect was to go downstairs in the middle of the night for some water to see the couch was empty

-He went up to Katy’s room but you weren’t there either

-Worry spiked through him as he registered that you weren’t in the house

-Until he saw a light on in the barn

-And he knew exactly where you were

-He put on a coat and grabbed a few blankets and headed to the barn

-When he approached the door, he thought he would see you on one of the chairs, or even laying on the upper deck

-What he didn’t expect was to see you laying in the hay right next to Stormy

-A small blanket covering both of them

-He stared at the sight before him for a minute before placing a heavier blanket on both his girls and taking a seat in one of the plastic chairs

-As he looked you over his heart got that weird fluttering feeling that only happened when he looked at you

-The chair wasn’t comfortable, but he settled down the best he could before closing his eyes

-Because he sure as shit wasn’t going to leave them both out in the chilly night air

4. When you only danced with him

-Wayne wasn’t much of a dancer

-He usually stayed at the bar drinking and watching everyone else

-Until he saw you on the dancefloor with Katy

-Both of you were having fun, without a care in the world

-He didn’t always understand how people enjoyed jumping around a dance floor, pushing into each other

- Until he saw you, smiling and carefree

-He could see how you would enjoy it

- He enjoyed watching you do it

- But when the song changed from an upbeat dance to a slower one, he saw the nervousness on your face

- Katy had gone on to dance with the 2 hockey players, leaving you alone on the floor

- He was going to wave you over for a Puppers, to sit down and have a drink with him

- Until

- Some uptown degen had grabbed your shoulder and spun you around, trying to dance with you

- And even from where he was sitting he could see you say no

- But this degen obviously didn’t know what was going to come to him if he didn’t let you go

- So Wayne took another swig of his drink, stood up, and marched right over to you

- He glared at the guy and shoved him away, standing in front of you until the degen scampered away from the crowd

- “I had him by the ropes,” you muttered, looking down at your shoes

- “Sure you did,” Wayne said, scanning the room to make sure the degen didn’t come back with any friends

- You both stood there awkwardly while everyone else was swaying to the music

- Finally you slyly held your hand out, asking him for a dance

- He looked between your hand and your face, before taking it and pulling you closer to him, his hand on your waist and yours falling on his shoulder

- You were slightly surprised that he had even decided to dance with you, but you weren’t going to question it too much

- It was rare that people saw this side of Wayne, especially in public

- So you just went with it and put your head on his shoulder

- “I thought you didn’t want to dance?” Wayne asked

- “No, I didn’t want to dance with some degen. I’ll always take a dance from you,” you said

- Wayne chuckled and pulled you a little closer

- He’d have to find a way to get you to dance with him outside of MoDean’s

5. When you patched him up after a fight

- Wayne was the toughest guy in Letterkenny

- Everyone knew that

- And for the most part, you liked it

- Except when Wayne had to prove that he was the toughest guy in Letterkenny

- Aka when he had to fight

- He always won, but that didn’t mean he didn’t catch a few hits along the way

- As the reigning tough guy in Letterkenny, Wayne never showed that he was hurt

- He usually hid behind a bottle of Puppers or Gus N’ Bru until the night was over

- Then he would give some half assed attempt to clean himself up

- Except he sucked at it

- So that’s where you stepped in

- Growing up in Letterkenny, you knew how to patch up wounds

- So as soon as you could get him alone, you would, ignoring his protests the whole time

- At first, you had to damn near tackle Wayne to get him to sit down so you could patch him up

- Even jumping onto his back to try and weigh him down

- It didn’t work, he just slung you off and caught you before you hit the floor, set you down, and stormed out of the bathroom

- This happened again and again until you tried a new tactic

- Begging

- Wayne could refuse most people’s begging

- But not yours

- Especially when you hit him with the puppy dog eyes

- So the first time you tried it, and said please, he sat down on the sink in the bathroom with a whispered “fuck a duck”, and let you patch him up

- You wiped the blood from his lip and disinfected the cuts on his knuckles

- And this became a routine almost every time he got into a fight

- Which was a lot

- His reluctance eventually diminished, and you swore that sometimes he looked forward to having you help him

- Although he would never tell his buddies

- But Katy teased you about it from time to time

- The last time you patched him up, Wayne had gotten into a pretty bad fight

- He had a busted lip, a blackened eye, and numerous cuts on his knuckles

- This fight wasn’t a typical ‘Toughest Guy in Letterkenny’ fight

- You had no idea what started this one, but Wayne hadn’t been this hurt in a while

- He had walked into the house where you were watching a movie with Katy, stood in front of you guys for a moment, and then walked into the bathroom and sat on the sink

- Katy had nudged you towards him and resumed the movie

- You walked into the bathroom and pulled out the first aid kit that you had stashed away after the first few fights

- You got out the bandages and hydrogen peroxide and got to work, gently working from his eye to his knuckles

- “I take it this wasn’t a planned fight?” you asked him, throwing a cotton ball into the trash can

- “Not exactly,” he said, “Some fuckin’ degens were talking about some of the girls in town, fucking degens,” he muttered

- “Ah,” I said, putting a small bandage on his right hand

- You're little Batman of Letterkenny

- You went to release his hand but he grabbed yours instead

- You looked up into his eyes and saw that he was already looking into yours

- “You don’t have to patch me up every time, you know,” He said, barely moving his thumb across your own knuckles

- You smiled, your cheeks turning red. “I know, but I want to. Lord knows you can’t do it yourself,” you laughed, not moving

- He gave you a rare smile and let go of your hand

- You finished with his hand and patted his shoulder, signaling that you were done

- He hopped off the counter and watched as you put everything away

- You brushed past him and left the bathroom and went to go sit on the couch and resume the movie

- Wayne went to the fridge, grabbed a Puppers, and sat next to you on the couch

- As the movie played on, you felt your eyes drooping and your yawns had increased, some of them threatening to split your face in half

- At some point your head leaned over onto Wayne’s shoulder and your eyes closed for the night

- Wayne only dragged a blanket onto you and shifted his shoulder down for you to rest your head better

- He ignored Katy’s raised eyebrows and beaming smile and turned his attention back to the movie

- But as he looked at his wrapped hand again, he glanced back at you asleep on his shoulder, and figured enough was enough.

- He would tell you in the morning

#Letterkenny #Wayne #Letterkenny Imagine #Letterkenny Oneshot #Letterkenny Wayne x Y/n

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heavenlyhaechan · 3 years

Text

A Thin Line (Between Love and Hate)

Pairing: Sunwoo x Gn!Reader

Genre: enemies to lovers au, high school au, fluff

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: cursing, mentions of blood (nosebleed), kissing, childish behavior, cliche after cliche after cliche af-

Note: Happy birthday Sunwoo, I think we all know that I love you the most. I wrote this quite a while ago, so if it doesn’t match my current writing style, that’s why.

The shrill sound of the school bell pierced your ears, and you watched as students began to move up and down the stairs around you like you were a stone in a rushing river. Five minutes until class started, and none of the underclassmen wanted to be late. You stood up, bidding your friends farewell as you did so. Pulling your bag over your shoulder, you started up the stairs towards your first class.

As you walked into your chemistry classroom, you heard your teacher reminding you of today’s quiz in a monotone voice. You nodded absentmindedly in his direction, more concerned with the person currently sitting in your seat. He sat with his back to you, bent over laughing at something his friend had said from the back of the room.

Your friends looked up at you as you reached your table, their eyes full of apprehension. Dropping your stuff to the ground, you cuffed the intruder on the back of his head, prompting him to look back at you, startled.

“This is my seat,” you said, although you knew he didn’t need the reminder.

“Is it?” Sunwoo recovered quickly, his eyes steely. You had seen people tremble under that gaze, but you knew him better than that. You hadn’t spent a lifetime knowing him just to get scared off by one look.

“Yes. Now move.”

“Somebody’s cranky this morning,” he sneered.

“Somebody needs to shut up,” you snapped back. “Don’t you have a class to get to?”

“Mm,” he made a sound of agreement as he stood up and stretched his arms over his head lazily. “See you later,” he said as he walked past you to the door, his shoulder bumping yours violently enough that you knew it hadn’t been an accident.

“I hope not,” you said to his back as you sat down, but he ignored you.

You were surprised. Usually, Sunwoo just had to have the last word, no matter what lengths he had to go to get it. You shrugged it off, making up an excuse for his behavior in your head as you turned to greet your friends and prepare for the quiz.

—

You strolled along the running track on your way to the bus stop, taking your time as you were well aware that the bus wasn’t coming for at least another five minutes. Your headphones successfully drowned out the sounds of the world around you, including the soccer practice happening to your left. In fact, they were so successful that you didn’t hear the shouts of warning until it was too late. By the time you saw the soccer ball hurtling directly towards your face all you could do was close your eyes. The next thing you knew, your face was stinging, and your nose felt like it was on fire.

A familiar face came running towards you, followed by most of your school’s soccer team. “Are you okay?” Sunwoo called out as he reached you, his voice much too loud for your liking.

“I’m fine,” you answered as a crowd of sweaty teenage boys surrounded you like you were Cristiano Ronaldo.

“You’re bleeding.”

You reached up to touch your nose, and soon felt a warm trickle of blood that confirmed his words.

“Shit,” you muttered, bending forward to hold your nose.

“Give them some room boys!” you heard someone shout, and the crowd began to thin, leaving only you, Sunwoo, and the soccer coach standing on the track.

“Take them to the nurse Kim,” the coach said gruffly, gesturing towards the school building. “And be quick about it.”

“Yes sir,” Sunwoo nodded once before grabbing your free arm and towing you forward. You followed him, too focused on keeping any blood from getting on your clothes to pay attention to where you were going.

“Do you think it’s broken?” he asked as he looked at you, his hatred of blood making him cringe.

“I don’t know.”

“You should have been paying attention,” he griped as he led you down the hallway.

“Do I have you to blame for this?” you deflected expertly.

“No, you have yourself to blame for not paying attention.”

He seemed to be growing more agitated by the second. Luckily for you, agitating Sunwoo was your specialty.

“You know if it is broken, I could probably sue you.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wanna bet?”

The two of you came to a stop outside of the nurse’s office, staring each other down. Finally, Sunwoo rolled his eyes and reached for the door handle.

“I’m not arguing with an invalid,” he said as he held the door open for you.

“And people say chivalry is dead,” you said dryly as you made your way inside the room, Sunwoo close behind you. Before he could respond you had been swept up by the nurse, leaving him to wait on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs lined up against the wall.

Ten minutes later, you watched as the nurse called your parents to pick you up, even after you had insisted that you were fine to take the bus. Since you’d arrived Sunwoo had stood up and begun to pace back and forth over the old worn carpet. You made your way over to him, wondering why he hadn’t left yet. He turned to face you as you reached him, one of his hands reaching up to fix his hair.

He had pulled a mask up over his nose at some point, and his curls fell over his eyebrows so that the only thing you could see was his eyes. They looked at you, sparkling like there was a whole galaxy trapped inside of them. Your rational mind knew that it was only the fluorescent light’s reflection, but a part of you was sure that you could find the secrets of the universe in those eyes if only you looked long enough.

The sound of your name drew you from your trance and you started, blinking rapidly. Shit. What were you thinking? This was Kim Sunwoo you were looking at. The same boy who had spent a lifetime tormenting you, and you, him.

“Sorry,” you said as you scrambled to find an excuse for your zoning out. “Maybe I have a concussion,” you resolved, cringing internally as you said it. Sunwoo’s eyebrows twitched, and a look of concern flashed across his face just long enough for you to catch it.

“I doubt it; I hit you in the face, not the head. And even if you do, it’s probably not very bad.”

“I hope it is bad, that way I can blame you for it,” you retorted.

He scoffed, and you watched as his eyes hardened, returning to the usual cold glare that he reserved especially for you. “Whatever,” he muttered, finally turning to leave the nurse’s office.

You cursed at yourself as you watched the door close behind him. This was the first time in years that the two of you had managed to have a civil conversation, maybe even a friendly one, and you had ruined it. You hadn’t even thought about it, the words had just spilled out of you. The saying “old habits die hard” was proving to be true.

But then you remembered a more pressing problem: his eyes.

—

That night, your thoughts stole any chance you had of sleeping. While this was not an uncommon occurrence, tonight it felt different. No matter where your mind took you, it always ended up at Sunwoo.

One train of thought went camping, your cousins, soccer, Sunwoo. Another went from the outfit you were going to wear tomorrow, to the quiz you’d had in chemistry today, to Sunwoo. For what felt like hours your thoughts followed this pattern, until finally, you fell into a restless sleep, dreams full of the same boy who had been haunting your thoughts since that afternoon and throughout your whole life.

—

“What’s on your mind?” your mom asked on your way to school the next morning. She had insisted that you wouldn’t take the bus that day, even though the nurse had deemed you uninjured.

“Why?” you questioned.

“You just seem kind of out of it.”

“I guess I didn’t sleep very well.”

“Why not?”

You were tempted to blame it on yesterday’s accident, but you knew that this would just make her worry more, which wouldn’t be beneficial to either of you. You speculated some other excuses for a few seconds, before deciding on the truth.

“You remember Kim Sunwoo right?”

“How could I forget,” she responded wryly. You laughed a little as contemplated what exactly you wanted to say.

“I always thought you had a crush on him you know,” she said, interrupting your thoughts. You stared at her incredulously. Now it was her turn to laugh.

“You used to come home from school when you were younger and talk about nothing else but him,” she explained.

“Yeah, cause he was, and is, so annoying,” you said defensively.

“Sure,” she conceded. “But I also think that you’ve chosen to blow up all of his more annoying traits in favor of ignoring his more admirable ones.”

—

Your mom’s words played on repeat in your mind all day long, like the lyrics of a song that had gotten stuck in your head. As you made your way through your day, you tried your best to forget that anything had happened and just go back to the way things had been before yesterday afternoon. This method proved unsuccessful, however.

By the time the school’s bell rang to signal the end of the day, you were really, truly fed up with just the thought of Sunwoo. What right did he have to inhabit your thoughts like this? You had more important things to focus on, things that actually mattered, like your history final, or deciding what you were going to buy your friend for their birthday.

You slammed your locker shut as you rode this new wave of anger, only to see the boy you had just been cursing out in your mind walking towards you. Unfortunately, he had already seen you, and you watched as he detached himself from his group of friends and made his way in your direction.

“What do you want?” you snarled as he reached you, turning for the stairs before he had a chance to respond.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said, more tentatively than you had ever heard him be.

“Why do you care?”

“Oh c'mon, I’m not a complete monster, and it was my fault.”

“So you admit it,” you turned to face him. He had followed you up the stairs, and now you looked down at him with a fierce look in your eyes.

��Admit what? That I’m a monster, or that it was my fault?”

“Both.”

He sighed resignedly, walking up the stairs until you were face to face. “Yes, I admit it. But if we’re being honest, you’re not the nicest either.”

“Well, you-” you stopped. He was right, wasn’t he? He may have been the one to start this stupid struggle, but nowadays you tended to provoke him more than he did you. And besides, you had been six years old when all of this had started. Were you really holding a grudge against Sunwoo’s six-year-old self?

“Okay, yeah. I’ve been pretty horrible to you too, but well, you started it!”

He laughed, his eyes scrunching up and his lips parting to reveal that crooked tooth that you had always despised. But maybe you had mistaken love for hate.

“Why did you, you know, start it,” you asked quietly, so quietly that for a moment you weren’t sure he’d heard you. But then his smile disappeared, and you realized that you kind of missed it.

“I guess I didn’t know how else to…” he trailed off, his eyes roaming the stairway as if the answer to your question lay there.

“Didn’t know how else to what?”

“How else to…uh, show you…that…I liked you.”

He blurted out the last three words like they were forbidden. They hung in the air like smoke, slipping into your lungs and making breathing difficult.

“Since when do you like me?” you croaked out.

“Since forever.”

“Really?” you laughed a little as you said it, your mind reeling.

“Well, since first grade at least.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I, um,” he paused, his eyes avoiding yours.

“What,” you said. It was a statement, not a question, but it still prompted him to continue.

“I was scared, I guess,” he finished, his eyes full to the brim with vulnerability. It poured from him, in the way his breathing had quickened, and the way his fingers played with his hoodie strings erratically. This was a new color on him, one you never thought you’d have the opportunity to see.

“Of what?” you queried, intrigued by this, what was it, nervousness? It was so foreign on him that you had trouble putting a finger on it.

“That you’d laugh at me mostly,” he coughed in embarrassment.

“I probably would have.”

He opened his mouth to snap at you, but you stopped him with a hand on his arm. He stared down at your fingers like they were alien, continuing to look at them dazedly even as you spoke. “But I’m not now, so,” you gestured for him to continue.

“I always thought that hating me was close enough to liking me,” he started again. “So I’d, you know, metaphorically pull your braids or whatever. I thought that at least that way you’d pay attention to me.” You could feel the phantom pain as he said it, the weight heavy on your scalp. “And then it became so natural that I didn’t know how to make it right, to apologize.”

“So basically, you’re a horrible flirt.”

He let another laugh escape him, pushing your shoulder a little as he finally met your eyes. “Like you’re any better.”

“I’m a lot better than you, Kim Sunwoo.”

“Oh yeah? We’ll see about that.”

You stared each other down the same way you had your entire lives, but this time you realized how ridiculous all of this really was. Hating each other, not because you didn't like one another, but because you both thought the feeling was mutual. And yet here you were. The line between love and hate is very thin, after all.

Before you could think any further, you did the simplest and most terrifying thing you could imagine. You leaned forward and kissed him. It was rushed and a little messy, with teeth banging and noses bumping, but it fit Sunwoo perfectly.

When you pulled away, the first thing you noticed was how red his ears were. You giggled at the sight, prompting him to look at you questioningly. You reached out to touch them, causing the blush to spread down to his cheeks as well. He looked down abashedly, but you assured him that it was cute.

“Embarrassing you mean,” he mumbled.

“That too,” you laughed again.

He sobered, staring at you with the same look that used to infuriate you to no end. But now, instead of seeing only the stone-cold glare he used to intimidate those around him, you also saw the blush that lingered on his cheeks and the stars in his eyes. Now you could see the potential smile in the curve of his cheeks and the potential pout his lips were waiting to produce.

“Cute,” you murmured again, and his lips twitched exasperatedly.

“Whatever.”

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emitheduck · 3 years

Text

So. We're Soulmates? (Bucky x Reader)

A/N: my first soulmate AU, and I figured it was finally time, and bucky deserved one lol. no spoilers whatsoever

Soulmate AU where you have your soulmate’s birthday tattooed on your arm ---

March 10th, 1917.

(Y/n) had always thought, there was no possible way that the universe had ever, ever gotten her soulmate’s birthday right. When everyone was celebrating that their soulmate was around the same age as them, she got to look down in horror as she could practically see her soulmate’s life fly by. There was legitimately no possible way that her soulmate would even still be alive.

The rules of the soulmate were strange, and no one ever understood them or questioned them. It was found out sometime in the 80s that the dates on peoples forearms weren’t random--but the birthday of their soulmate. Because the universe was a cosmic nightmare, when someone’s soulmate died, the numbers went with them.

That’s what made this so strange.

Either (Y/n)’s soulmate was hanging onto life support, or the universe had fucked up and decided it was going to trick her into thinking she could find happiness like everyone else.

She had these feelings up until she got the faithful call one day, that she had landed the job with SHIELD and found out that she would be working in the helicarrier during the attack on New York. And that’s how she met Steve Rogers.

“You know, it’s kind of funny.” Steve sighed with a chuckle, shaking his head as he followed (Y/n) who was leading him to where he would be staying.

“What is?” She asked as she typed in the access code for one of the doors as they walked.

“The number on your arm. That’s my friend’s birthday.” Steve was smirking as he walked into his room. “I mean, it was his birthday.”

(Y/n) looked down at the date on her arm and sighed, her hand instinctively covering the date. “You sure he’s dead? Not some hundred-year-old veteran in a nursing home that you haven’t checked in on or something?” She was trying her best to not sound horrible for joking about his friend's death, but he seemed almost amused by her banter.

“Last I checked, he’s dead. I watched him fall off the train and everything.” He told her as he sat down on the edge of his bed. “His name was Bucky.” He told her as she turned around to leave, watching her stop for a moment to listen before she left.

Steve’s words always lingered in the back of her mind ever since that day on the helicarrier. She had seen the Bucky memorial spot in the museum, and the day she found out that he was alive, she would never forget (mostly because when it happened, she had dropped the bottle of wine she was holding on the floor and spent hours picking up tiny shards of glass).

The year was now 2023. Five years after the blip, and (Y/n) now fully retired from SHIELD. She left on good terms, but the years of working were just exhausting. Especially now that she came back after vanishing for five years and had to rebuild her life all over again. At least they were respectful, and were happy to give her the pay that she had missed out on.

It was hard enough having to deal with knowing all your close friends sacrificed themselves for the whole world, and not being able to do anything about it. That was the reason that kept her up most nights. The guilt of feeling like she could have done something, but never got the chance to, was the hardest feeling.

That’s what led (Y/n) to walking aimlessly around the grocery store at almost 2am. When she couldn’t sleep, sometimes the best thing to do was walk around pushing the cart and praying that the LED lights would calm her down enough to go home and face the empty apartment.

What she didn’t expect was turning the corner of the frozen section and crashing her cart into someone elses. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention.” (Y/n) apologize as she looked at the man in front of her. “I should have been looking. I guess I’m just tired.”

“I’m probably just tired too.” He chuckled, pulling his cart away from hers. Both the carts were empty anway. “You come here to walk around at night too?”

“How could you tell?” (Y/n) laughed, running a hand through her hair as she looked him over. He looked familiar, and knowing her luck he was some assassin that was stalking her, and came here to finish the job.

He motioned to their empty carts with a bob of his head. “Something about just pushing the carts around and listening to the crappy music makes me feel better too.” He smirked as he never broke eye contact. “Also, people normally buy food when they’re shopping.”

(Y/n) sighed, nodding. “You caught me. I’m just here to wander.”

“It’s okay. I am too. Sometimes staring at the TV isn’t enough.” He mumbled, shaking his head as he broke eye contact to look where his hands were gripping the handle of the cart. “Sorry, I’m just rambling I guess.”

“No, I get it.” She laughed it off, knowing it was late and sometimes people just kept talking when they were tired. “My names (Y/n).” She smiled, holding out her hand for him to shake.

He seemed to hesitate, but reached out and shook her hand. “My name’s Bucky.”

She could feel her mouth go dry. “Bucky?” There was just no, possible way that this was the man who has been in the back of her mind for years on end.

“I’m guessing you know who I am.” He muttered, already preparing himself to turn around and forget this interaction never happened. “Sorry, I should go.”

“Wait! No, I didn’t mean it like that.” (Y/n) exclaimed as she held her hands out to stop him from leaving. “I just have heard so much about you--not the way you think, it sounds so weird. I talked to Steve about you once, way back before the battle of New York.”

She peaked his interest at the mention of Steve. “You knew Steve?”

(Y/n) nodded. “He told me all about you. Look, I even have your birthday on my arm.” She told him, lifting up her sleeve to show him the date on her arm, watching his eyes go wide out of shock. “Steve liked to always tease me that I had your birthday, and I always told him that I probably had some old man, sitting in some hospital bed, decaying before our eyes. Wow, I am rambling, I am so sorry. I should leave.” She was bright red as she decided to just leave her cart where it was and accept the humiliation and leave.

“No, you don’t have to go.” Bucky told her, gently grabbing her arm to stop her from leaving. “I guess now that you showed me yours, I’ll show you mine.” He grinned as he let go of her arm, using his left hand to pull up his long sleeve. There on his arm, in bold black numbers was (Y/n)’s birthday clear as day.

“Do you maybe want to go get coffee at that 24 hour place across the street? We might have a bit we need to talk about.” She was dumbfounded. Steve would always tease and joke, telling her that Bucky was her soulmate just because it was the same birthday on her arm. But due to the fact that he was presumed dead for so long, (Y/n) never thought anything of it.

“Are you going to come inside? I’ve been holding the door open for almost a minute.” Bucky asked, laughing a little uncomfortably as he watched the woman just stand at the door of the diner. She didn’t even remember the walk to get there.

(Y/n) blinked, rubbing her eyes as she nodded and walked inside. The sign said seat yourself, and she found a nice seat by the window for the two of them. “Sorry. I guess I’m just a little speechless.”

He chuckled as he shifted in the booth. “I’ll be honest. Me too.”

“So. We’re soulmates.” She shrugged, feeling uncertain of herself. Finding her soulmate was never the first thing on her mind, because she never actually thought that she would find him. Sure, the universe also had a way of making the two cross paths at some point, but because of the age, she never cared.

“When I used to see the date on my arm, I thought it was a joke.” He told her, mumbling that he wanted a coffee when the waiter walked over and asked what they wanted. “She wants a coffee. Two cream, one sugar.” He said as the other man nodded and walked away.

“How did you know my coffee order?” She asked with a raise of her eyebrow.

Bucky opened his mouth like he was about to speak but sighed. “I legit have no idea. My brain was working for me, and it just came out.”

(Y/n) laughed. “I mean, we’re cosmically linked so it does make sense.” The coffee was set down in front of them and she smiled as she held onto the mug. “Is this when I ask if you can tell me about yourself?”

“Where do I start?” He asked as he set his coffee down after taking a sip. “My name is James Buchanan Barnes, but I go by Bucky. James is only for when shit hits the fan I guess.”

“I think I prefer Bucky.” She smiled, watching as his cheeks turned red for a moment.

“What about you Doll? What fun thing do you have to tell me?” Bucky asked her with a smirk, making it her turn to blush.

“I worked for SHIELD, that’s where I met Steve. But then there was that time we found out that Hydra was inside of SHIELD, and technically you tried to kill me.” She pointed out, watching as he put his head down in shame. “But that’s all in the past now. I’m not that person anymore.”

He took a sip of his coffee before he spoke. “What changed?”

(Y/n) sighed, shaking her head as she held onto her coffee mug for warmth. “I was pretty close with Steve and Natasha. Tony helped me get the job at SHIELD, too. Three people that I looked up to more than anything, were gone before I ever got a chance to say goodbye.” She told him, knowing that there would be no more tears left to cry. Her tear-ducts seemed to stop working after she had cried for days straight that they were gone.

“I wasn’t very close to anyone but Steve, but I do understand how you feel.” He told her, leaning across the table to rest a hand on her shoulder. “Do you live in the city?”

“I live pretty close to Hell’s Kitchen.” She told him, watching as he nodded. “I’m guessing you live in Brooklyn?”

He looked a little surprised, but still smiled. “How could you tell?”

She smiled back, a little shy. “Some part of me just knew, but the other part of me heard Steve talk about Brooklyn all the time. He loved it there, and I guess I thought you did too.”

“It’s definitely still amazing, but a lot has changed. I’m still getting used to it all.” Bucky confessed, putting down some money for the coffee as they both finished and stood up from the table.

(Y/n) checked her phone and sighed at the time. 3:30 in the morning, and there was no way she was going to sleep now. Now, she was going to ride the train and hope that the rocking of the subway would be enough to turn her mind off for a while. “I should get going. It’s getting late, and I’m taking the train back.”

He nodded, seeming a little uneasy that she was about to leave. “Do you maybe want my number? We could meet up someday, maybe get to know eachother better?”

She grinned as she handed him her phone. “Put your number in.” She told him as they traded phones, smirking as she put in her contact. “I put my information as (Y/n)-Soulmate, just in case you seemed to forget.”

“Oh trust me, I don’t think I’ll ever forget.” Bucky chuckled as he looked at her contact. “Promise you’ll call?”

“Considering the fact I’ve known you for a few hours, and I’m already completely head-over-heels for you, I don’t think you have to worry.” (Y/n) told him, leaning up and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Bye for now, but not bye forever.”

Bucky was grinning like an idiot, and he knew it. “I like the sound of that. I still just can’t believe I found you after all these years.”

“You better believe it, because you’re going to be seeing a lot more of me from now on.”

MASTERLIST

#bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky x reader #marvel #reader insert #reader #bucky imagine #falcon and the winter solider #winter solider x y/n

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punkrockmads · 3 years

Text

Found Family

Abby x F! Reader Mini Series

Warnings: Labor and stuff, violence

Chapter Eight; Golden Hour

A baby's first breath starts what is called the "Golden Hour". This is the period of time when a parent will hold their baby for the first time and feel a love like no other.

*NINE MONTHS PREGNANT*

I've been very restless lately, so Abby, Lev, and I decided today would be a good day to take a short walk around the outskirts of town. I smile, listening to Lev talk about this shark movie he found at his "friend's" house. Abby and I walk hand in hand behind him, keeping an eye on our surroundings. The outskirts of town are abandoned but they can still be dangerous if you're not paying attention. Our daughter is due in about a week and Abby and I are thrilled. We've gotten everything prepared. We even spent the past few days painting the walls of the baby's room buttercup yellow. Thanks to Kayla, we managed to find a hardware store that had dozens of cans of paint. As we're walking, I feel a dull ache in my stomach, but I brush it off once it quickly goes away. I've been having these weird little cramps all day. We continue walking for about five more minutes before I feel an even stronger pain. I wince, putting a hand on my stomach.

"Y/N?" Abby looks down at me in concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." I breathe. "Just the baby moving around." That's when an even stronger wave of pain hits me. "Fuck!" I yell, almost falling to my knees if it weren't for Abby catching me.

"Hey, it's okay. I got you." Abby's eyes search my body frantically. "What's wrong, baby?"

"Abby!" I cry, the pain getting worse. "It hurts!"

"Okay." Abby whispers, moving to lift me up. "Okay, we're gonna get you back home." She picks me up bridal style, nodding at Lev who stands there watching us with a worried frown. He instantly runs in front of us, guarding our path back to the dark green pickup truck Abby borrowed to drive us out here.

The pain continues to get worse, making me bite my lip and grab at Abby's sleeves desperately. "Ah! Fuck!" I scream. "Abby, I think the baby's coming!" I sob, staring at her. She looks at me with sheer panic in her eyes.

"Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" Abby starts to panic, moving at fast as she can without dropping me. "Okay, hang on, baby. It's gonna be okay! We're gonna get you-" I cut her off with a loud scream I physically can't hold back, sobbing into the sleeve of her shirt as my stomach begins to feel like it's tearing itself apart. "Shhh. Breathe, baby. Focus on your breathing." Abby tries to comfort me, following Lev towards the truck. As we make our way there, we hear familiar screams and clicks... infected. Oh shit! They run towards us, too close to catching up.

"Abby!" Lev yells, shooting at infected as he runs. He manages to take down a few.

"Just keep running!" Abby yells back. "We're right behind you! Get to the truck!"

"Abby, they're getting closer!" I warn. "There's too many of them! Put me down, we can take em out!"

"You just focus on the your breathing, Y/N!" Abby's voice is frantic and determined. I roll my eyes, she's too stubborn to realize we have no other choice. I pry her hands off of me, causing her to drop me. I successfully land on my feet, ignoring the pain as I grab my gun out of Abby's backpack. "Y/N! Fuck!" Abby grabs her gun, helping Lev and I kill as many infected as we can. The adrenaline rush makes my heart pound frantically. Once we've cleared a path, Abby grabs my arm. "Okay, go! Go!" She yells. The three of us make it to the truck, Abby helping me into the backseat before joining me. Lev gets in the driver's seat.

"Abby, what are you doing?!" I yell. She should be up front driving!

"Lev, drive!" Abby yells, reaching for my hand. Lev turns the truck on.

"What?! Abby are you crazy?!" I smack her hand away, looking at her like she's grown three heads.

"Lev go! Now!" Abby continues. Lev complies, stepping on the gas.

"No!" Abby grabs my hand, ignoring my yelling.

"Drive, dammit!" Abby yells, squeezing my hand.

"EVERYONE BUT Y/N STOP YELLING, I'M TRYING TO CONCENTRATE!!" Lev screams from the driver's seat. Abby and I both shut up, minus my pained cries. That's when I feel something wet. I look down, seeing my jeans and the seat soaked. I panic.

"Abby!" I yell, absolutely terrified. I have no idea what's happening.

"It's okay." Abby assures, squeezing my hand and brushing sweat soaked strands of hair out of my face. "It's okay. Your water broke, it's completely normal." I look up at her, she looks just as terrified as me. "Just breathe, baby. Just like I showed you, remember?" I nod, focusing on my breathing. Lev continues to drive as quickly and as carefully as he can, most likely trying to tune us out. "I'm gonna unzip your jeans, okay?" I can only nod to respond, too focused on controlling my breathing. Abby unbuttons and unzip my jeans, pushing her fingers into my underwear and checking my dilation. I can barely feel it because of all the pain.

"Abby." Tears pour down my face as I look at Abby. She pulls her hand back, wiping it on her shirt carelessly before looking back at me.

"It's okay, baby." She coos. "You're doing so good. You're so strong, baby." She kisses my temple a few times, rubbing my arms and stomach. "We're almost there, sweet girl. Just try to relax." I nod, leaning into her side and focusing on my breathing.

"Abby." Lev calls from the driver's seat. "Small problem." Abby sits up, keeping her arms around me.

"Oh shit." Abby mumbles. I look to see a huge hole in the road filled with water. "Okay, we went the wrong way. It's okay, just take a right." Lev does so, forgetting to slow down. The truck's tires scream against the pavement. "Easy, Lev!" Abby warns as the truck almost completely tilts to the side.

"Sorry!" Lev apologizes. By the time we get back, Abby and I look like absolute disasters. Lev takes a sharp turn into a brick wall, accidentally crashing the truck. "Sorry, sorry sorry!" He yells.

"It's okay. Is everyone okay?" Abby asks, checking Lev for injuries.

"I'm gonna go get help." Lev says, getting out of the truck. Abby helps me out of the truck, carrying me to the infirmary as I cry in fear. Lev returns with Kayla who immediately rushes over to help.

"I got her." Abby says. "Kayla, go to the infirmary, tell them she's in labor."

"On it!" Kayla nods, running off toward the infirmary.

"Lev, go home. I'll have Kayla come get you later." Lev nods, despite wanting to stay and be helpful. Once Abby and I get to the infirmary, a doctor is already preparing a small room for us. She guides us into the room, asking a couple nurses to grab some things. Abby lays me on the bed, helping me pull off my jeans and underwear before covering me with a blanket.

"Abby, I'm so scared." I sob. "I can't do this." Abby takes my hand in hers, stroking my right cheek with the other. A few nurses rush around the room, finishing up their preparations.

"You can do this, baby." Abby mumbles against my temple. "You're so strong. You can do this. I'm gonna be right here the whole time." I take a deep breath, letting myself believe every word she says. Seven hours of painful labor later, our baby girl is born. My head falls back against the pillow as I sob, Abby running her fingers through my hair and whispering sweet nothings against my cheek as one nurse cleans up our baby and another cleans me up. Before I can even realize what's happening, I'm handed a tiny, screaming, pink bundle. I look at our baby immediately crying with joy.

"Oh." I smile, letting out a breathy laugh. My voice is dull and tired. "Oh, hello! Hello, my baby!" I delicately rub her tiny cheeks with the pad of my index finger. Her mouth is open wide as she screams, wiggling around in her swaddle. I never thought I could love something this much until her. Our perfect little girl. "My little girl! Oh, you're perfect!" Abby rests her head against mine, wrapping her arms around me. She watches as I cradle our teeny tiny baby, watching as she slowly calms down in my arms. "You're so pretty! Look at you!"

"She looks so much like you." Abby sniffles, putting a hand on the baby's tiny chest. I look up at her, seeing her huge grin and tear stained face. She leans down and kisses me. She looks at our daughter, tears pouring down her face.

"You wanna hold her?" I ask, moving the baby toward Abby.

"Are you sure?" Abby asks hesitantly.

"Of course, honey!" I laugh a little, feeling more tears fall. "This is our daughter!" Abby takes her in her arms, gasping at how tiny she is.

"Hi, my sweet baby girl." Abby rocks the baby, her tiny size making her muscles seem even bigger. The baby fusses a little before calming down, making little cooing noises. "Momma's got you, it's okay. Mommy and I are here." Abby whispers. "Welcome to the world, little bean." Abby looks down at me in awe. I gesture for her to sit on the bed beside me and she does, allowing me to lean against her side.

"I'm so proud of you, Y/N. You did so good, sweet girl." Abby says, holding me close. "Thank you. Thank you so much. You brought our perfect little girl into the world, baby! She's finally here!"

"I love you so much." I mumble, kissing Abby before looking back down at our baby.

"I love you too." Abby sniffles. She hands me the baby, hugging me tightly. After getting me cleaned up and changed into clean, comfortable clothes, Abby asks Kayla to go get Lev. A few minutes later, Lev walks in wearing a black tuxedo. I laugh, holding the baby as I breastfeed her.

"Lev, what are you wearing?" Abby chuckles, gesturing to his outfut.

"It's my fancy suit!" Lev grins. "I wanna make a good first impression!"

"You're such a dork." I grin. "She's eating right now, but you can hold her in a bit okay?" Lev nods, patiently sitting on the end of the bed. "Abby?" I turn to look at my wife. She looks at me with pure love and adoration.

"Hm?" She hums, brushing my cheek with the pad of her thumb.

"Tell me about the sky bridges again?" I ask with a little pout.

"Alright." Abby chuckles. "Anything for the mother of my child." Abby tells the story about her experience on the sky bridges as the baby eats, a few nurses coming in and interrupting to check on us and congratulate us every now and then. Once the baby's done eating, Abby helps me fix my shirt and I usher Lev over. He sits by my other side, looking down at his tiny baby sister.

"You can hold her, Lev." I say. He looks at me with excitement. "Here, put your arms like mine." I say. He does, carefully holding the baby as I put her in his arms. She whimpers a bit, squirming. "She's saying hello." I smile.

"Hi there." Lev whispers. "She's so little. I love her so much!" Abby and I watch as Lev rocks the baby, looking down at her in awe. "What's her name?" I look up at Abby. She nods, a knowing smile on her face. We talked about names for weeks before finally deciding we knew the perfect one all along.

I put a hand on Lev's shoulder. "Evangeline."

#the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou2 #tlou #lgbtq #abby tlou #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #lev tlou

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hoodharlow · 3 years

Text

Holiday Surprise

El Novio Quarantine Edition: Part 7

AN: Quick reminded in Song of the Year I previously said that Claudia was 20 weeks pregnant, but bc I want them to have a Taurus baby I moved pushed everything by 4 weeks. So in this part she's now 20 weeks pregnant and in SoG she's 16 weeks pregnant. Also tyy to @wastelandcth for letting me run ideas with her ilysm Gemma

Requested? No

Warnings: overall fluff with an angsty ending, briefly jealous!Cal, pre-sex (no smut!), Mitchy, mentions of violence, an argument bc someone can't follow basic CDC guidelines and went out to party, and talks about deathtolls/covid cases

Word Count: 5.9k words

Claudia waited for the nurse to print her a few copies of her ultrasound. Christmas was in three days. Since her and Calum were staying at his house for Christmas, they decided on sending out care packages to their families. In the boxes they planned on having envelopes with their Christmas card and a picture of the newest member of the Hood-Santos family. But that they should wait to open them together via Zoom because Calum and Claudia were going to find out the sex of their baby.

They had made a compromise. If baby's sex is female then Calum is naming them because the Hoods' firstborns are always female. Whereas in Claudia's family the Santos always have male firstborns so if the baby is male, she is naming them.

They were nervous. This was the biggest secret both of them have ever kept from their parents. Claudia felt queasy just thinking about how her parents were going to react, especially her parents. She doesn't want to disappoint them.

Sure Diego and Soni, and her brothers started their families at a young age, but there was an underlying pressure for Claudia. She was the only girl and the first in her family to graduate from a four year college, her mom had gone to community college and studied fashion merchandising. Her parents hadn't said it outloud, but she knew that it was expected of her to have a career before even thinking about settling down to start a family. She was supposed to get her master's then teach for a few years before moving her way up to school administration. Getting pregnant just during her first year of grad school was not the plan she and her parents had.

"All set." the nurse said, handing Claudia the envelopes.

"Thank you. Hope you enjoy the cookies and happy holidays." Claudia said, stuffing them in her bag.

She pumped some hand sanitizer before she exited the doctor's office. She pulled Calum's flannel tighter and made her way to the car where he was waiting. He got out and helped her up.

Claudia clicked her seatbelt and turned to Calum. "Can't you drop me off at your house and you go down to see my parents?" she asked.

"No you're going with me. I'm out of excuses." He said. He squeezed her hand, reassuringly before he backed out of the parking spot. "We're just going to drop off their box and say hi. After that we'll get hotdogs under the bridge at that place you like."

"Fine." she sighed, giving in. The things she did for some hotdogs from Barrio Dogs down in Chicano Park.

On their way to the post office, Claudia finished up packing the boxes. Once they arrived, Calum helped her seal them with packing tape before he took them inside to get mailed out. While she waited for him, Claudia texted her mom that she and Calum were going down to leave them a box for them to open on Christmas Eve.

She rubbed her stomach. She was almost twenty weeks pregnant and still couldn't believe it. It feels like just last week Danny had come over to fight the cat and accidentally found her pregnancy tests on the bathroom sink. Which was why she was nervous to go over to her parents. One look at her and they would know Calum got her pregnant. Luckily for her with Calum's big t-shirt and his zip up jacket that she packed, she was able to mask her growing belly.

She shifted in her seat, trying to get somewhat comfortable when Calum unlocked the car to get in. He squeezed her hand and rubbed her belly. He passed her his phone so she could play some music as he pulled out of the parking lot. She played EL ÚLTIMO TOUR DEL MUNDO, and quietly gushed to her belly that Calum helped Bad Bunny produce the album and that he played all of the instruments in Yo Visto Asi.

She reached for the pillows she had in the backseat; as best she could she curled up. Claudia spent the whole night baking. She needed something to keep out of her mind while she waited for final grades to be posted. She knew she did good, but the waiting is what got to her.

When she first started grad school, she made a vow to be a fast grader and to have a good grading system. That way her students would know what their grades were in real time. She even managed to get everything graded for her classes the day her students turned in their finals. Unlike half of her professors who haven't updated grades since Thanksgiving.

Her eyes fluttered closed and began dozing off, with help from Calum who played with her hair. He gently shook her shoulder, waking Claudia from a nap that felt like only five.

"We're here." he whispered, kissing her cheek.

"No, I just fell asleep." Claudia whined.

"C'mon," he said, kissing her.

He got out and grabbed the last box left. He stopped by Junior's house first. Though while he was there Damian overheard him and Junior talk about Claudia and her pregnancy. Calum just hoped that Damian kept his pinky promise and wouldn't tell anyone.

Claudia waited for Calum to make his way up the steps before changing into his t-shirt and zip up hoodie. She kept the thin long sleeve top and layered his shirt over it. She got out and grabbed the hoodie, putting it on as she went up the steps.

Calum slammed the front door, looking pale as if he saw a ghost.

"I just saw your dad's ass." He shuddered. "Didn't know he was the type to get an ass tattoo."

"How long did you look at his ass?— you know what, I don't wanna know." Claudia said, lifting her hands up in surrender.

A minute or so later, Diego opened the door, buckling his belt. "Do you know how to knock?" He scolded Calum.

"You didn't knock?" Claudia asked him, awkwardly hugging her dad.

"I did, but I used your key to get in since they didn't open." Calum explained. He held up his UCLA lanyard out to them. Claudia's San Diego Chargers key stood out against all the other silver ones.

"Now that that's sorted, can we go in? Tengo frío." Claudia said.

Diego took a step back and let them in. He motioned them to the kitchen where Soni made a pitcher of agua de nanche. She set down the ladle and went to greet Calum and Claudia.

"Can I have some?" Claudia asked her mom.

"Agua de nanche?" Soni gave Claudia a confused look. In the twenty-two years she's known her daughter, she never willingly asked for agua de nanche. She placed her hand on Claudia's forehead. "Are you okay?"

She giggled nervously, hugging herself. "Ay ama. It's just a little craving I have."

"A craving?"

"Yeah… craving."

***

Calum still couldn't wrap it around his head that Claudia's pregnancy made her eat pickles. She absolutely dreaded them before. One time, before the pandemic, they went out to a burger place and she sent back her burger because she tasted the pickles in the bottom bun. She could tell that they took them out before bringing it to her. Now seeing her pregnant and scarfing them down was something that left him both surprised and confused.

"Claudia?" a voice called behind Calum.

"Oh my god, Luis!" Claudia squealed excitedly.

When the guy approached their table, Calum felt like he had seen the guy before. He just couldn't remember where he saw him.

"Cal, this Felix' brother, Luis. He's the one who's mine and Danny's age." Claudia explained.

Calum smiled politely and introduced himself. He sat back and watched them talk. Luis leaned closer to Claudia, laughing at whatever bad joke she said. He noticed her voice slightly went higher.

It was her 'I'm not really flirting, but oh shit you're hot as fuck' voice. She used to use that voice before they became an official iten. The last time she used it was when they were at lunch with the guys, their old producer friend named Jon and Tyler Posey. On the drive home, she went on and on about how Tyler Posey was the sweetest and funniest guy ever. It drove Calum mad.

"It was nice seeing you, Claudia, but my friends are waiting." Luis said, making Calum smile.

"Same, and congrats on getting into med school. I saw Profe's post the other week." Claudia smiled.

"I find it weird you call my mom Profe." He teased.

"It was an old habit." She laughed. She turned to Calum. "We should go right? With traffic and all."

He nodded. "I'm going to pay and bring the car over." Calum got up and nodded to Luis. "It was nice meeting you."

"Back at you." Luis said leaving to his table without telling Claudia goodbye.

Calum helped her up and hand in hand they went to the booth to pay. He signed the receipt and dripped a very generous tip in the tip jar.

After thorough convincing, Claudia waited for Calum as he jaywalked and went to get his car from the public parking lot. She replied to a series of messages from Danny asking why she drank agua de nanche and that Luis texted him telling him he just ran into her and that she looked pregnant. She gave him a vague response and put her phone on silent. After eating three hotdogs and a side mac and cheese, the last thing she wanted was to answer more messages from Danny.

Calum pulled up in front of her and got out of his side to help her in. It was more of him standing back and being there in case she fell, so she'd fall into him, breaking her fall. Once she was in he circled back and got in.

He missed the street that took them to the I5 and now had to drive a bit further to get on the I15. Just before he got off the ramp, Claudia's soft snores filled the car. He pressed a few buttons and made her seat lean back. With one hand Calum moved her so she was laying on her side. As best he could, he placed the pillows around her back and stomach.

The drive went by quickly. Calum got off the freeway and started driving through the streets. His phone began to ring. Ashton's face lit up his phone screen. It must be about their management. Calum had asked him to call him once everything was sorted with their lawyers and teams. He connected it to the car and answered.

"Hey, mate, I'm driving right now. Claudia and I are almost home. Call you in a bit." Calum said before Ashton got a word in.

He hung up as Claudia stirred awake. She groaned and shifted in her seat.

"I have to pee." she said.

"We'll be home in about five minutes. Can you hold it?" He asked her, intertwining his fingers with hers.

"Yeah," she said, stifling her yawn. Claudia rushed out and went to the guest bathroom when they arrived. Calum took advantage and returned Ashton's call.

"Claudia, I'm going to be in my office if you need me," he called.

"I might be in here a while, those hotdogs didn't agree with me." she murmured.

"There's an air freshener in the sink." Calumteased.

He greeted Duke and Cherry as he made his way to his office. Ashton answered and went off in a tangent about a melody that was stuck in his head. He paced around, agreeing and humming in response as Ashton went on and on. Calum didn't want to cut him off and ask about their contract, so he listened.

"...so I talked to Renee Hastings, that lawyer that does a lot of work on this and she said that she can get us out of our contract. She even has—”

“Are you serious?” Calum asked, cutting him off.

He desperately wanted and needed to get out of their contract with their management. Especially with what they’re asking him to do. There’s no way he’s going to do what they want.

"Yeah, everything is going to be finalized in the next few weeks." Ashton went on. "I'm glad we're out. Even more so that you won't have to… you know."

"It's a relief honestly. I can just focus on music and raising my baby with Claudia." He sighed. He reached for a small picture frame of him and Claudia from when they went hiking at some waterfall they accidentally found while out hiking.

"Speaking of baby, do you know their sex? I have compiled a list of names. Of course, my top five are Ashley, Asher, Ashton, Ashe, and Ashlyn on said list, but I found some other names." Ashton said, earning a snort from Calum.

He set the picture frame down and chuckled as Ashton listed more names. He spotted the new contract their old team had made for him. He grabbed it and stored it in a drawer under a package of printer paper. Calum caught Claudia's shadow as she waddled past his office, making her way to the kitchen.

"Hey, I gotta go. Claudia just scurried past my office so I have to hide her hot chips or she's going to complain all night that she has heartburn.

Ashton chuckled at his comment. They bid each other goodbye and agreed that he was taking Calum to the studio in a few days after spending the holidays in the snow with KayKay and Penny.

Calum went out to the kitchen and found it empty. But there was a stool in front of the cabinet where Calum hid Claudia's Turbo Flamas and Takis. The two large chip bags were missing.

He cursed and searched around the house for her. He found her once more in the kitchen sipping on a Hi-C pink lemonade juice box while she watched her frozen Italian style meatballs heat up in the microwave.

"How many times do I have to ask you to not climb on stool to reach for things? You're already clumsy as is, Claudia." He scolded.

"I didn't use the stool. I was going to, but I didn't see my chips." Claudia explained. She got up and grabbed her plate. "So now I'm gonna shove some balls in my mouth."

"I have some you might like more."

Claudia gave him a glance over. She didn't get it. She was almost twenty weeks pregnant and somehow Calum's cock was as hard as the kitchen's marble counters. Did it have to do with the fact that she only wore his flannel and some panties? Yes, it still surprised her that she had that effect on him.

She bit into one of her meatballs and watched him. Once she swallowed, she walked up to him and gently patted his hard on. "And they say pregnant women are the super horny ones."

***

Christmas Eve rolled around a few days later. Calum spent the better part of the morning at the studio with Luke and Michael then he spent the afternoon driving around dropping off and picking up things for their little Christmas celebration. Claudia baked and made sure their house was ready. Danny, Medelyn and Sebastian were coming over to their house since Claudia and her brothers divided which holidays they spent with their parents. Danny got thanksgiving, Junior got Christmas and Claudia got left with New Year's.

Calum entered the house and his nose was filled with the smell of warm gingerbread cookies and the tamales Soni had given them when they visited. He quickly rushed to the guest room and changed into some clean clothes. With Claudia being pregnant they knew that she was more at risk of exposure, so they took extra precautions for her to be safe. He took his clothes to the laundry room for a quick wash.

He went to the kitchen and was surprised it was empty. Calum was sure he was going to find Claudia decorating some cookies or baking some elaborate pastry she couldn't pronounce. He found their dogs in the living room intently watching 102 Dalmatians. They didn't even notice him when he arrived.

Calum jogged upstairs and heard a faint buzzing sound in their bedroom. He knocked a few times so she could let him in. Other times he would have sneaked in and playfully scold her that she knew better than to get started without him. That usually led to him telling to keep going until she was very sensitive then he'd go down on her and do other things to her that they both enjoy. But with a human growing inside of her, Claudia has gotten a bit self conscious about her body.

He knocked a few more times and there still wasn't a response. He opened the door and found her naked in a sitting position. She was fast asleep with her vibrator in her hand.

Calum took the vibrator, turning it off, he cleaned it and stored it in her drawer with her other toys. He fixed her pillows and slowly moved her into a more comfortable position. He covered her with her Snoopy blanket and smoothed her hair out. He kissed her forehead and let her sleep.

He went back down and worked in his office. Now that the band was without any management and team, they had a lot of paperwork to prove that they were management-less. Once he was done with the paperwork he decided to do some in depth investigation[long cash]lurking— on the lawyer that helped them get out of their contract. All he knew about her was that one of Michael's best men gave him her number because she was well known in the NFL among the wives of the NFL players. He looked her up on Google and it showed that she is married to a retired NFL player who she had three children with, one son and two daughters. Her husband played for the San Diego Chargers until the team moved to Los Angeles where he went and played for the 49ers. He had retired just last year. In his rabbit hole investigation he ended up on Renee's Instagram page. He was about four years deep when he saw a familiar face. Claudia.

She was posing with, who Calum assumed was, that Isaiah guy. He had his arm around Claudia's shoulders while one of her hands was on his chest. They both had big smiles.

Calum scrolled down and read the caption. Noting that Isaiah's @ was in the caption, he clicked it. He cursed when he saw that his account was private. He went back to Renee's and kept scrolling. He saw more and more of Claudia. From school fundraisers to family barbecues, Claudia and her family were there.

It hurt him, not in 'she looked so happy with him' but more of how he knew their families can't have that relationship. Mostly because Calum's family lived on the other side of the Pacific Ocean. They couldn't just arrange to meet up for a barbecue or a dinner. There was so much to plan just for them to be in the same place. And with the ongoing pandemic, it made things rough for them.

Calum and Claudia's parents briefly met via Zoom when Joy and David thanked Soni and Diego for taking Calum in. After that there were quick Zoom calls or just Calum or Claudia passing along their parents' regards to the other. The more Calum thought about it, his parents had better relationships with Diego and Soni than Marlene and Medelyn's parents. From what Claudia told him, Marlene's parents kicked her out when she was sixteen after finding out she was a few months pregnant with Guito. Diego and Soni stepped in and took her in. Her parents eventually came around, but according to Claudia, the tension is very present whenever there's a family party and Marlene's parents attend. But it's much better than Medelyn's parents. He witnessed first-hand how her parents want nothing to do with her or the Santos family.

"Hey, you okay?" Claudia asked him, bringing him back from his thoughts. "I knocked a few times and you didn't answer."

"Ye-yeah, I'm good." He said. He motioned her to come in. She took a seat in front of Calum.

In other circumstances, he would have dropped to his knees, but those circumstances are probably why Claudia was pregnant.

Calum pushed her t-shirt and gently kissed her belly. "How are my babies?" he asked before blowing raspberries into her belly.

"We are good." Claudia gently patted her belly. "This one was in the mood for tamales."

"What time are they showing up?" He asked.

"In like two hours. I'm so hungry." She fake cried.

"The lighting is good right here." Calum noted, ignoring her hunger comment. He unlocked his phone, accidentally revealing to her that he was lurking. He exited the app and looked for the camera icon. He quickly took a few pictures of him with Claudia's belly. He passed his phone to her and let her see the pictures.

"You think showing me cute pictures of my belly is gonna distract me from the fact that I saw my ex's mom on your phone?" She asked as a matter of factly.

"Kinda?" He laughed nervously. He sat back and ran his hand over her thighs. "Now that I got you here. I have something to talk to you about that involves her."

"Oh?"

"You know how we dropped our album and that our management fucked up the release, making us debut a week early and all that?" He asked her. She nodded in response. She remembered clearly tweeting Billboard and cursing them out. Calum took her hands and intertwined her fingers with his. "Well we decided to part ways with them. Thanks to Renee, we got out of our contract drama free. So now we have more freedom with our music and lives."

"Oh my god! I'm so happy for you and the guys!" Claudia smiled. She carefully hopped off the desk and sat on Calum's lap. "Mrs. Hastings is such a badass. I'm glad she was able to help y'all."

"It's a relief. It's nice to break apart from a group that never had your back." He said.

Claudia smiled to herself. It's been a while since she saw Calum look so relaxed and content. She was happy to see that he found peace of mind. She knew how exhausting their management was. Especially when their relationship was exposed. The band's team was quick to tell him to break up with her. They were desperate to keep his image of the one single band member. But Calum was very adamant and refused.

"My question is why were you on her Instagram?"

"I was bored. I have a question too."

"What is it?"

"The dress you wore to your prom, is that the one you had planned on wearing with me?"

"No." she giggled. "I had convinced my mom to take me to Saks up in HillCrest because I wanted to impress you and maybe you know with you."

"Weren't you seventeen?"

"Yeah? Wh— oh yeah nevermind."

***

Calum paced around his office, waiting for his dad to answer. Earlier Damian had accidentally spoiled Calum and Claudia's surprise by asking if his tía Claudia already had her baby. They came clean and told their parents they were having a baby.

After an unexciting baby and sex reveal, their moms tearfully congratulated them on their baby girl. Diego came around after a few jokes from Junior and Danny. He even shed a few tears after it finally hit him that his baby was having a baby. Which only brought more jokes about how he doesn't hide the fact that Claudia is favorite. The only parent that didn't have much of a reaction was David.

Calum quickly noticed the change in his demeanor as Joy and Soni gushed about the thought of being grandmothers to a baby girl that had both his and Claudia's dark brown curls. He texted him, letting him know that he was calling him. He stepped out and was now waiting for his dad to answer.

"Llo?" David answered.

"Hey, dad." Calum said back. He didn't know where to start. The last thing he wanted was to argue and ruin Christmas for them. But he wanted answers.

"You're really going to be a dad, huh." David spoke up, breaking the silence.

Calum laughed nervously and leaned against his desk. "Yeah, we were a bit surprised at first but we're excited now."

"Isn't it soon? You've been dating Claudia for what? A little over a year and now you're having a child? I never thought you'd settle."

"If you're implying that she purposefully got preg—"

"I'm not… children are a huge responsibility, Calum."

"I'm aware." He scratched his arm. "This is something we've already discussed. We had agreed on waiting a few more years, once Claudia was done with school and working, but it kinda sprung on us. We know the timing isn’t ideal, but we want this. We want her.”

“Alright,” David sighed.

Calum braced himself for what was going to come.

“I want to be called pops though, I’m too young to be called grandpa.” he said, earning a chuckle from his son.

Both of them ended up talking for what seemed like hours. They caught up on how things were going for them. They even joked about having a serious talk with Felix, Mali's boyfriend and a family friend of the Santos family. Calum didn't even notice Claudia walk in and leave him a plate of tamales de rajas con queso and a mug of ponche Navideño on his desk. After another half hour, Calum and David hung up, agreeing to talk later in the week.

Calum made his way back to the living room where Claudia, Danny, Sebastian and Medelyn were while he scarfed down his tamales and ponche. After he finished, he took his dishes and placed them in the sink, letting them soak. He joined Claudia on the floor, letting her lean against him. An hour later, Danny, Medelyn and Sebastian left since in Los Angeles there was a strict curfew. Calum and Claudia offered them one of the guest rooms, but they declined. It was now just the two of them.

By the time they finished cleaning, it was well into midnight. Claudia had changed into a simple yet sexy, panty and bra set, covering it with a silky robe and settled in bed. She scrolled through one of her favorite stories on Wattpad while she waited for him. She was at the part where the main characters established that they are enemies when Calum entered the room with a small plastic box.

"Merry Christmas." He offered her the box.

"We agreed to open presents in the morning." Claudia said.

"I know but I couldn't wait. Remember a while back I found out it was you that I was supposed to take to prom?" He asked.

Claudia nodded. She vaguely remembered the talk, but she did remember that afternoon he posted a screenshot of that Tweet and picture of them in the pool. There were mixed reactions. Some fans were confused why the pool was green, not knowing Ashton was in the midst of working on his album. Some gave them positive responses while others continued with their negativity.

"Anyways," He said, bringing her back from her thoughts. "I found the corsage and I wanted to give it to you. There's also something else in there."

Claudia carefully opened the box. It was beautiful. The flowers were dry, but she always liked dry flowers. To her they represent memories and experiences. She gently ran her finger over the ribbon that matched the dress she had originally bought. She still remembered their team asking her to link the website of her dress so they could get an exact color. She lifted the corsage only to reveal a BVLGARI ring box. Her eyes widened.

"No." Claudia shook her head. She passed him back the box. "Just because I'm having your baby, it doesn't mean you should propose."

"Umm, well good thing I'm not proposing." Calum awkwardly chuckled. He opened the small box, inside was a rose gold serpent ring. It was similar to the necklace he first gave her and the bracelets. "I wanted you to have the complete set. It fits your pointer finger, not the ring finger."

"Oh, thank god." She exhaled, relieved.

"Why that reaction though?" He asked her.

"I've seen too many couples get engaged for the wrong reason and end up miserable. Not that that would be us, but I don't want you to feel obligated because I’m having your kid."

"What do you think about marriage?" He shifted so she could be more comfortable.

"The overall thought of spending your life with someone and stuff sounds great. It's the fact that the government and/or church have to get involved to verify that gets me. Legally speaking it makes sense why they get involved. You?"

"I agree for the most part. I don't need some piece of paper to tell me that my feelings for you are valid." He said.

"Well thanks for the ring." Claudia said, showing him how it looked on her pointer finger. "I love it. Also I have something for you to unwrap."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She giggled as she stood on her knees in front of him.

Calum slowly opened her robe, revealing her bra and panties.

"You're my favorite present." Calum said, before gently pulling her down to kiss her. "The best thing that has ever happened to me."

***

"Check his left pocket." Ashton told Luke while he held Calum up.

Luke nodded and slipped his hand into Calum's pants. But in his drunken state, Calum pushed him away. He shook his hand and tried yo

"I'm flattered, but I have a girlfriend." he went on. "She's amazing. She also has a great ass and even more phenomenal brain. She's having my baby whilst getting her master's at UCLA."

"C'mon you cunt, just cooperate with us. Claudia is going to kill us." Luke grumbled. "Where are you are your fucking keys?"

"I have a spare under the potted cactus." Calum said. He yawned and rested his head on Ashton's shoulder.

Luke gave him a look and crouched under the potted plant. He lifted the pot and retrieved the keyes. He opened the door, holding it for Ashton to carry Calum in. They guided him to the couch.

Duke and Cherry jumped on Calum wanting to get cuddles from him, but he wasn’t in the mood. He grumbled and rolled on his stomach.

“We need to get ice on his hand.” Luke whispered to Ashton.

“Why does he need ice on his hand?” Claudia asked, startling them.

She stood on the doorway with a plate of sliced green apples drizzled with honey and warm peanut butter. She was pissed.

Calum had told her he was going to go to the studio with the guys. Only he didn’t. She was mindlessly scrolling through the explore tab on Instagram and saw a picture of Mitchy with Calum in the background. Claudia wasn’t mad that he was out with Mitchy. She could care less about him. What pissed her off was that he thought it was okay for him to be out partying in the middle of a global pandemic.

“He punched Mitchy.” Ashton said as if it was something Calum normally did.

“He WHAT!” Claudia yelled.

“That’s what Luke said. I don’t know. I was home sleeping when he called.”

“I was in the other room when it happened and when Jordan came to get me, he didn’t tell me what provoked him. They were just held back by a few other guys.” Luke explained.

“Did anyone else see?” Claudia asked. She was worried about the video getting out and that their old team could use it against it.

“No, there were like three other guys in the room when I got there. Everyone else was out in the yard. There guys were smoking and Cal was helping Mitchy get more drinks.”

Ashton patted Luke’s arm. “We should get going.”

“Bye Claudia and congrats on having a girl.” Luke said before he left with Ashton.

Claudia sighed when she heard the door close. She went over to Calum and got him out of his clothes. She grabbed a blanket and covered him, leaving to go upstairs to sleep.

Calum woke up hours later. His whole body was in pain. He couldn't lift his head up from the pillow at how heavy it felt. Though when he caught a peek of himself in boxers he jumped up.

It took him a minute to realize he was at his house. He didn't even know how he got home. The last thing he remembered was punching Mitchy for calling Claudia a bitch. He glanced down at his hand, even against his brown skin, his knuckles were still red. He opened and closed his fist, cursing at how it hurt.

He heard hushed voices coming from the kitchen. He recognized the voices instantly. Danny and Claudia were arguing in Spanish. On the opposite end of the couch were a t-shirt and sweatpants neatly folded. He put them on and went to the kitchen.

He barely made two steps in the kitchen when two hands shoved him hard.

Danny, what the fuck!" Claudia yelled. She pulled her brother back, letting Calum regain his composure.

"You don't come to my house and fucking start shit." Calum snapped at Danny.

"No, but I do come over and take my sister home with me because her baby daddy is an irresponsible headass." Danny sneered.

"What did you just say?" Calum asked.

"Are you fucking stupid?" Danny began. "Claudia is fucking pregnant and you think it's cool to go out and party. You're putting her life and your baby's in danger. Hell, even yours. You're fucking selfish."

Calum didn't know what to say. He felt like shit.

Danny gently reached for his sister's arm. "Claudia te vienes conmigo."

She shrugged him off and crossed her arms. "I'm not leaving."

"Me vale verga."

"She said she's not going." Calum spoke up.

"Cal, don't say anything right now." Claudia said defeatedly. "Danny, go home. We're going to resolve this."

Danny looked at Calum then to Claudia. "Fine." he said, knowing she wouldn't budge. He reached for his keys on the counter. "Me hablas al rato. Y más si este pendejo anda con sus pendejadas."

He hugged Claudia and went through the back to avoid getting close to Calum. Seconds later the front door slammed shut.

"Claudia,"

She lifted her hand up, stopping him. "I don't wanna hear Calum. I'm exhausted. I stayed up all night because I didn't know where the fuck you were. Then you come home late, so drunk that Luke and Ashton have to hold you up. Don't get me started on the fact that you got in a fight. I don't want to know what caused it, but it better not repeat.

What am I going to tell my parents this time? 'Yeah we can't make it because Calum decided that it was okay for him to party in the middle of a global pandemic where there were thousands of people dying and being hospitalized in just the city we live in. Feliz año.'"

"Claudia,"

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sure you."

Taglist: @suchalonelysunflower @f-mu @another-lonely-heart @sunshinebabycal-deactivated2021 @calumscalm @karajaynetoday @cherryxwildflower @ashtonsunflower @idontneedanyone @findingliam-o @5-secondsofcolor @mulletcal @polycashton @fckingpernico @2fangirl4u @calpops

#calum hood fluff #calum hood angst #calum hood one shot #calum hood blurb #calum hood imagine #calum hood fanfic #calum hood imagines #calum hood oneshot #calum hood fanfiction #el novio quarantine edition

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dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3 · 3 years

Text

The Problem with Perfection Chapter 10 spoilers!

Hey all! So, a couple people asked for this, so I figured I’d post it. It’s chapter 8 of the companion to TPWP, The Problem with Mondo, which corresponds with chapter 10 of TPWP. Yes, this confuses me a lot too, the fact that the chapters don’t align. -.-

Anyway! Don’t read this if you’ve not read TPWP chapter 10, since it will definitely spoil that chapter, ha. Warning for an overabundance of foul language and some sexualized thinking, as well as an absent thought of suicide, same as in TPWP. This chapter is super long, about 20,000 words, and I’m posting all of it because... why not, am I right? Ha.

I did cut a few sentences from this chapter because they might spoil things for later chapters of TPWP, but they don’t really contain anything major.

The chapter is below the cut! Hope y’all like. :-)

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

Mondo is angry. Blindingly angry. So angry he doesn’t know why he’s angry, but honestly, what else is new? He just knows that he’s angry and the reason he is angry is that goddamn motherfucking kid and his goddamn motherfucking glasses-

“They! Are!! Glasses!!! Just!!! Wear them!!!” the boy grits out, thrusting his goddamn hand out towards Mondo, looking like he is about five fucking seconds from bashing his head against the goddamn wall. Mondo almost wishes he fucking would, to save him the fucking trouble! Unable to help himself, he scowls and crosses his arms, shaking his head firmly, so fucking pissed it ain’t even funny.

“No! I ain’t no fuckin’ nerd!” Mondo yells back, glaring like he was born to do it. Unfortunately, it seems so was Ishimaru, as the kid is glaring like his life depends on it, as fiery and beautiful passionate as ever. That goddamn motherfucking...

“Just! Wear them! The doctor says you need them! You don’t have to wear them all the time! Just when you’re reading! Stop! Being an idiot!”

“Me?! I ain’t no fuckin’ idiot, you’re a fuckin’ idiot! If ya think I’m gonna wear that shit, yer outta yer goddamn mind! Now get that shit outta my face, ya fuckwad, or I’m gonna bash yer head in!”

“Like heck you will! You’re all bark and no bite, Owada! Now just! Wear! The! Glasses! You said you were okay with them when you bought them! I will force you to wear them, don’t think I won’t!”

“Oh, you motherfuckin’-!”

“U-uh, g-guys?”

Mondo and Ishimaru turn, as one, to glare at the intruder on their private fucking conversation. Okay, so maybe they’re in the middle of the hallway outside their dorm rooms, but fuck! That don’t mean shit! Eavesdropping is a nasty fucking habit and if this goddamn motherfucker doesn’t butt the fuck out right the fuck now-

“Shut up!” the pair shouts in unison, before turning to glare at each other again.

Mondo doesn’t know why he’s so angry. He doesn’t know why he’s doing this, or why he has been doing this for the past week and a half. From hot, to cold, to hot, to cold, again and again and again, never fucking ceasing. One minute he’s fine, relaxed as shit and not at all angry, maybe even feeling kinda good, and then the next...

And he doesn’t know why. Why he’s doing this. Why he’s fucking ruining this shit, like he fucking ruins every fucking thing. He... h-he just...

Things had been okay, you know? Between him and Ishimaru. At first. Sure, they weren’t really friends, evidenced by how they are still referring to one another by last name, but they’d been friendly enough. Mondo had taken care to keep his anger in check, and— to his surprise— it... it hadn’t actually been that hard. It seems that Ishimaru can be pretty fucking cool when they’re not at odds.

He’s also a great fucking tutor. He somehow manages to not sound sanctimonious and pretentious when explaining shit, instead looking so fucking earnest and like he genuinely wants to just... help.

Because of that, they’d gotten along pretty well those first few days. Ishimaru had been determined to get him brought up to speed before they started the fucking novel, so he’d taken care to spend a couple hours a day hanging around Mondo, at various times. The pair usually spent an hour or so in the library after class ended, but more than that, they just... they would walk together between classes, Ishimaru rambling on and on about what they’d just learned about in class. Mondo doesn’t know why he’d allowed it, usually not caring about shit like that, but somehow... somehow, it had been nice. Hearing Ishimaru talk about the shit they’d learned, the kid better able to impart knowledge in the ten fucking minutes they had between classes than the teachers were able to in the hour plus they had. It’s not at all the sorta shit Mondo would have expected himself to enjoy, let alone look forward to, but shit. There they were.

But then... Mondo got stupid. He overstepped his bounds and got fucking scared, fuck.

They’d been in Ishimaru’s room. Mondo doesn’t know why he’d made the offer to go to the kid’s room rather than the library, like they usually did, like was safe, but he... he had. And the kid had fucking accepted, and so there they were, sitting on the hall monitor’s fucking couch, sitting too fucking close. The kid was reading the short story Teach had assigned to the class, the pair realizing it was just... easier, while Mondo waited for the nurse to contact the eye doctor for him, since it turned out that yeah, his eyes were kinda fucked up, shit.

He had felt so fucking weird inside, the first time the kid had read to him, since they’d been in the library and he’d been nervous someone would see them and think Mondo was an idiot who needed to be fucking read to, but... shit. This time it had just been... different. Without the fear of being judged (since Ishimaru never fucking judged him, not ever, god fucking damn), he... he’d been able to listen to the kid reading without any fucking reservations. And he’d had to admit that- that he... he liked it. A lot. Like... fucking a lot.

So fucking much that it had made him feel relaxed for the first time... shit. Prolly ever. Ishimaru just had a nice sounding voice, ya know? It was strangely deep, at times, when he got lost in the story, his words not too fast but not too slow. He actually emoted when he spoke, too, the sound not a dull and dry monotone like so many fucking other people he’s heard read before. It just... made him feel so fucking calm inside, like the monster inside of him had been fucking purring.

And... and then...

Mondo had let his head drop down onto Ishimaru’s shoulder, eyes closing in contentment, the kid faltering for one split second, breath hitched, before he’d smoothly continued, like it had never happened. And with his eyes closed and his head resting on a warm, comfortable shoulder, hearing that wonderful cadence from that wonderful, beautiful mouth... he hadn’t been able to stop the thought. And the thought he had was...

God, his voice is so fucking nice, isn’t it...? Wonder what it would sound like screaming your name as you pound the fuck outta him. He’d prolly be loud as shit, so fucking passionate, clawing you to all hell, but damn if you’d mind. Shit... wouldn’t that be fucking nice...

He had been, to put it mildly, freaked the fuck out.

His eyes had shot open the second the thought had crossed his mind, heart fucking pounding as he wondered where the goddamn fuck that shit came from. Ishimaru had been startled, looking at him with his wide fucking eyes, lips opened softly in shock, voice faltering for the first time and Mondo... Mondo couldn’t fucking handle it, holy fucking shit.

He’d immediately stood and stammered out some bullshit about needing to check on his hog, before fucking bailing, eyes wide and heart an absolute mess. He had, indeed, gone out to his hog and rode around for a bit, not wanting to think, but he’d been unable to help it. To stop it. And it... it made him feel...

He’s not gay. Okay? He’s fucking not. There’d be no fucking problem if he were, but he just ain’t. He likes chicks, something he knows better than anything else, something he’s known since he was a fucking kid, goddamn. He’d even made sure to look at his porno mags that night, reassured when he felt his dick harden so fucking hard as he saw the tits and pussy that always made him so fucking hard to see.

So, he wasn’t gay. He fucking couldn’t be gay, and it’s not possible for him to like both, so he figured that the thought had meant... meant Mondo wanted to fucking pound Ishimaru’s head in, not- n-not any other meaning of the word that it could have meant. He guessed that he didn’t like being around Ishimaru as much as he had assumed and that he actually hated him, after all.

As freaked out as he’d been, he took hold of that idea and fucking ran with it. He told himself that he hated the kid, of course he hated him, his voice was fucking annoying as shit, not nice, not nice at all!

And so, the next day, he’d been cold to the kid. So fucking cold. And when the kid had tried to approach him after home room ended, looking open and earnest and so fucking cute-

Mondo hadn’t been able to handle it. His stomach had clenched, and his heart had fucking lurched, and he told himself it was hatred he felt, it had to be fucking hatred. And so, he’d snarled at the kid, telling him to ‘get the fuck away from me, freak!’ before he’d run off, heart aching so fucking stupidly.

He had considered skipping class, getting on his hog and fucking booking it, but he needed to give his girl a break, and he still kinda wanted to try the whole ‘giving school a chance’ thing, so he’d eventually decided to storm into class, even if he’d been five minutes late. He’d refused to look at Ishimaru, though, thinking that seeing his stupid fucking pathetic face would fucking destroy him infuriate the shit out of him, and as soon as class ended, he’d shot out, not needing to pack anything up since he’d not fucking brought anything, shit.

That had kept happening the rest of the day. Every class they had together (which was pretty much every fucking class, god fucking damn this school) Mondo would carefully keep his eyes off the kid, ignoring the feel of sad, hurt, bright red eyes as they bored into him. After the second class, the kid had tried to chase after him, tried to talk to him, but Mondo would fucking turn and head the opposite fucking direction of their next class, and he knew the kid wouldn’t dare risk being late, so he’d give up pretty quick. He’d constantly be looking in class, though, lips pulled down in a frown, eyebrows furrowed in concern. Not that Mondo was fucking looking! Shit!

It wasn’t until Ishimaru had cornered him outside his dorm room that night, looking so fucking hurt and upset and not a little bit annoyed that they’d managed to resolve things.

In that Ishimaru had been so fucking annoying that Mondo had immediately started yelling, causing Ishimaru to yell back, his words bleeding hurt, making Mondo feel like absolute scum. They had been loud enough to garner the attention of most of their classmates, even fucking Togami gracing them with his condescending presence, which had made Mondo even more pissed, honestly, wanting nothing more than to be anywhere fucking else.

It was when the kid looked about ready to fucking cry that Mondo had had enough. His insides were squirming, and he felt so fucking scared, for reasons he still doesn’t understand, but he... h-he hadn’t wanted to make Ishimaru cry again. After spending several days interacting with Ishimaru, having a lot of fucking conversations that hadn’t actually ended in the kid’s tears, he... he hadn’t wanted to go back to that.

And so, with all the confused fucking emotions swirling inside him, he’d yelled ‘fuckin’ fine, ya goddamn bastard! I’ll fuckin�� meet you and do that goddamn fuckin’ assignment tomorrow! Now leave me the fuck alone!’ before storming into his room and slamming the door shut so loud it made even his ears ring.

He’d then promptly stormed into the shower, turning the water on as hot as it could go, the water fucking hurting, but he’d wanted it to. He just... he’d felt so... so...

Confused...

He’d never felt this way for anyone before. So angry and scared and confused and yet also so fucking happy, so bizarrely, stupidly happy. Ishimaru fucking... he made him happy. And he didn’t know how to handle that, because clearly, he still hated the kid... right? Right? What other option was there? Why did he want to hit Ishimaru (and he had to want to hit him, it was the only fucking option that made any fucking sense) if he didn’t hate him?

But he’d agreed— stupidly— to meet with the kid for another fucking tutoring session after class the next day. And while the thought had made his insides squirm, he... fuck. He hadn’t wanted to make the kid cry again. God, did he not want that. Even if he did hate him— which he must, he must— he... fuck.

He couldn’t make him cry.

He wasn’t his goddamn old man.

And so, when he got out of the shower, he’d resolved to contain his anger the next day. He’d push it down, keep it locked up tight tight tight, and he wouldn’t let it hurt Ishimaru. He’d gotten into bed (still hated it, but he was slowly getting use to the ridiculously plush material) and fallen into a fitful sleep, dreams full of wide, hurt red eyes, a sad voice begging him to explain why he was hurting him so. He’d woken an hour early with a start, heart pounding, and had spent the remaining time until he usually got up doing push-ups again and again and again, until he didn’t remember the dream anymore.

And then, when he went into class, carrying his supplies for once... he’d given the kid a small, sheepish smile, stomach roiling with all the emotions within it. He’d then spent the rest of home room doodling absently on the notebook Ishimaru had helped him pick out from the school store, doing his best to not think of everything and psych himself out. He’d even managed to feel almost calm as he let himself draw, something he rarely allows himself to do, but always has kinda enjoyed, even if he’s shit at it.

Once home room ended, he’d waited for Ishimaru at the door, telling him as casually as he could that the nurse had contacted him the day before, saying she’d scheduled an eye doctor (he still can’t remember the official name Ishimaru called the dude, shit) appointment for 3:00 the next day, hesitantly asking the kid if he had wanted to come along. He could tell that the kid was taken aback, clearly not having expected such a thing, but he’d still stammered out an acceptance, looking so flustered it wasn’t funny when Mondo turned to look at him with a small, soft smile. He’d not meant to look at the kid like that, but he’d just... been unable to help it.

The rest of the day had gone well, the tutoring session going nicely like it had before that stupid fucking bullshit two days prior. It had happened in the library again, which Mondo figured would be safer. He’d almost started to hope that things would stay that way, stay as calm and easy and nice, but then-

Mondo got angry. Again.

He doesn’t even know why, he never fucking does, but the kid had just... he’d been so fucking patient, helping Mondo pick out a pair of ‘reading glasses,’ since the doc had said he had pretty bad close-up vision and would be benefited from having prescription reading glasses, not just the over-the-counter stuff you find at drug stores. Mondo had felt so fucking lost, no idea what any of the bullshit meant, but Ishimaru had... he’d been so fucking helpful, explaining the complicated terminology and shit, helping him find a pair that didn’t make him look too much like a fucking nerd. And the pair he settled on was honestly kinda nice. It was a rectangular silver metal frame that had deep purple plastic on the sides, and it actually make him look kinda cool... if a bit nerdy. He’d given the salesperson his school insurance card and was pleasantly surprised to find he’d not have to pay a penny for the frames, since the school covers shit like that.

It was then, as he and Ishimaru exited the shop and the kid absently commented that the glasses made him look very smart that Mondo just... fucking lost it.

And he doesn’t even know why.

It just... it made him feel weird inside. Being around the kid. Being soft with him. And he was. Soft. Soft and kind and fucking gentle. And the kid was the exact same back. The entire time they’d been in the shop, Mondo had been thinking how nice it had felt. How domestic. The panic and fear had been slowly rising in him the entire time they’d been in the store, and he’d done all he could to push it the fuck down, but he... he hadn’t...

He’d left the kid standing there, looking so fucking confused, as he hopped on his hog and drove away. He’d not cared how the kid would get back to the school, he had refused to ride with Mondo since it made him ‘nervous’ anyway, so it wasn’t his fucking problem.

And that pattern just... kept repeating. Mondo would get angry, say something toxic to the kid, and storm away. The kid would wait a couple of hours, maybe try and talk with him after class or something, only to eventually corner him and force him to talk to him, looking so fucking fed up, but also so fucking upset and sad and confused. Like he didn’t know why Mondo was doing this to him. Like he didn’t know why Mondo was being so fucking difficult. Like he... he didn’t...

Didn’t know why he fucking bothered...

And… honestly? Mondo didn’t know why either. Why he kept trying. Why he was so stubborn, always chasing after Mondo even after Mondo fucking shoved him away, sometimes literally. Even when Mondo would get so fucking nasty, making tears build up in the kid’s eyes, frustration clear in his every movement.

For almost two weeks this occurred, again and again and again, and Mondo... Mondo doesn’t know why the kid doesn’t just leave him already. Why he doesn’t just say ‘the hell with it,’ realize Mondo isn’t fucking worth it, and leave his ass. Like every other person on the face of this goddamn planet...

It’s only a matter of time until he does, though. Leave him. It’s what always was going to happen, since Mondo couldn’t ever hope to hold onto someone so very, very good. So very, very nice. Mondo is poison. He’s gas. He only knows how to destroy and break and hurt.

He’s not allowed something nice.

He’s not allowed someone nice.

He’s just...

Not worthy of it.

Case in fucking point...

“Look. Owada-kun,” Ishimaru spits, hands clenched around the stupid glasses case that he for some reason has (Mondo doesn’t even know how he’d gotten a hold of them, shit), looking like he wants to crush them, shit. “I don’t understand why you’re being so stubborn about this! You picked them out! You said they were fine! Why! Why have you changed your mind!”

Mondo scowls at the words, heart racing and swirling and hurting, hurting, hurting, and he doesn’t wanna be doing this, wants to stop, but he can’t, he can’t, he fucking can’t! He doesn’t know how to stop this, doesn’t know how to make this go away, all he knows how to do is break and hurt and destroy, destroy, destroy-

“I ain’t changed shit! I never fuckin’ agreed ta wear fuckin’ glasses, now get the fuck outta my face!”

It’s a lie. They both know it’s a lie, he can see the anger rising on Ishimaru’s face as he processes the abject lie. Mondo had, in fact, agreed on the glasses, had even kinda liked them, but he can’t concede that, can’t say he does, if he does then- then that means he’s okay with this, this weird thing he has going on with Ishimaru, and he doesn’t know if he can handle that, handle the proof that Ishimaru is so fucking amazing, the proof that Mondo doesn’t fucking deserve him, proof that... t-that he...

Mondo can’t take it. He can’t fucking take it! He tries to leave, to get away, to fucking end this shit already, but then Ishimaru is grabbing hold of him, holding so fucking tight, and Mondo tries to break free, tries to get away, but the kid just doesn’t fucking let go, and Mondo is so fucking freaked out, he just wants to leave, please god, let him just leave, don’t let him break this fucking kid again, god, please-

“You-! You are the most infuriating, pig-headed, arrogant... jerk I have ever had the misfortune to meet! If I never saw your face again, it wouldn’t be long enough!”

“Oh, I’m so wounded, please don’t call me anymore fuckin’ names like that, how the fuck am I ever gonna recover?!” Mondo snarls, sarcasm so thick he’s sure even Ishimaru will be able to pick up on it, wanting to stop but not being able to. “Grow the fuck up, ya cock suckin’ assfucker! Learn some better fuckin’ insults or don’t even bother tryin’ ta play!”

“Just because I am too sophisticated to resort to such foul language does not mean anything! You may be a lowly, classless heathen, but I, for one, refuse-”

“Oh, so now ya think yer fuckin’ better than me?! I told ya already, y’ain’t goddamn shit, Ishimaru! Ain’t no shit at all!”

“I am one hundred times the man you will ever hope to be! And if I’m not... feces, then you’re not even worth anything at all! Y-you’re... you’re an amoeba, so tiny and insignificant that it’s a miracle you think you’re relevant at all!”

“What the fuck did ya call me, ya son ofa bitch?!”

Mondo sees the kid open his mouth— likely to fire something back, barely any space between them— holding onto Mondo’s arm so fucking tight, like his life depends on it or something, looking so fucking pissed and angry and hurt and fucking beautiful, so fucking beautiful, god fucking damnit-

But before the kid can say anything, another voice pipes up, the same voice as earlier, making Mondo’s rage reach a paramount, oh god-

“Aw, come on! I thought you guys resolved things already, do you really have to do this?! Please!”

Mondo turns to the fucking eavesdropper, snarling at the beyond fucking average boy. Naegi turns super fucking pale at the look, but he doesn’t cower away for once. Mondo doesn’t care. He’s far passed the point of caring.

“I told ya ta stay the fuck outta this!”

Naegi frowns, but Mondo doesn’t give him a chance to say any other stupid ass thing before he’s turning back to Ishimaru, eyes practically spitting fire as he stares so deep into Ishimaru’s that it feels almost like a physical embrace. It makes Mondo’s breath hitch for some stupid fucking reason, his stomach swirling as he looks deep into the most gorgeous fucking eyes he’s ever fucking seen-

But he can’t feel things like that, so he pushes it firmly away.

He can hear their eavesdropper fucking sigh, soft and almost disappointed, and that should make Mondo even angrier, but something in Mondo is feeling so fucking weird now. G-god... he doesn’t even know how to begin to describe it, other than it feels like he’s on fire, but not even in a bad way. Ishimaru is staring at him, eyes wide, anger in them, but also something else, something Mondo can’t understand, no matter how much he fucking wants to.

He can’t let this end here. He wants to let it end, but he fucking can’t. He... h-he needs to figure out how to settle this, how to make this stop, how to not be as fucking pathetic as he knows he is. He... he needs to prove that he’s not as worthless as they both know he is, as weak, as nothing, so fucking nothing. Everyone knows it, knows he doesn’t belong here, knows that Ishimaru is so much better than him it’s not funny, but he- he needs to prove that he has something going for him, that he... he can do something, even if he’s worthless in every other regard, every other aspect, even if Ishimaru is better than him everywhere else he just needs to prove he can beat him at fucking something, god-

He’s issuing the challenge before he can stop himself.

And god, is he so fucking afraid.

“You think yer so perfect, don’t ya, Ishimaru? Think yer better than me? Well... well, yer not, an’ I can fuckin’ prove it. I bet I can beat you, hands down, any day of the fuckin’ week. Y’ain’t better than me, ya shit fuck. Y’ain’t nothin’,” Mondo hisses, lying through his fucking teeth. Ishimaru is better than him. He knows it. He’s always known it. He hates it, though. Not being good enough. Not being worthy. He... he wants to be. Good enough. For... f-for...

Ishimaru’s eyes are shiny again, even despite his glare.

Typical.

“What?! Y-you guys aren’t going to- to fight, are you? Guys-!”

Mondo breaks his stare down with Ishimaru to shoot that goddamn fucking bastard a single, solitary sneer, before turning back to Ishimaru, chest heaving with all the emotions he carries within him.

“Nah. Ground floor, there’s a sauna. Ya know it?”

Ishimaru blinks slowly, sluggish, before nodding slightly, looking very fucking confused. His eyebrows are furrowed, and his lips are pulled down, and he looks so fucking cute stupid, god. After a moment, though, it seems he understands what Mondo is getting at, the challenge he is suggesting, as his face lights up, eyes bright and passionate once more, an honest to god grin on his face.

Holy fucking shit...

“Aha! A simple endurance challenge! If that is your gauntlet, then I happily accept! I will wipe the floor with you!”

Despite the anger that is still flowing through him, Mondo can’t help the small smile that passes on his lips, something about the enthusiasm so fucking... not cute, not cute, not cute at all, but maybe, a little, teeny tiny bit... endearing? He pushes it away, though. It’s not helpful, here.

“Yer fuckin’ on. And you,” Mondo points blindly to Naegi— who ‘eeps’ at the gesture, fucking coward he is— not able to look away from Ishimaru for a single fucking second, “will be our witness. Got it?!”

As intently as Mondo is staring at Ishimaru, he doesn’t see the other kid’s response, but he can hear how Naegi splutters, the kid clearly not as enthusiastic about the idea as Ishimaru and himself are. Bastard.

“W-what?! Now?! B-but it’s so late... g-guys, are you sure this is a- a good idea-?!”

“Yes, ya fuckin’ moron, it’s a fuckin’ great idea!” Mondo snarls, at the exact same time Ishimaru— eyes bright and feverish— exclaims, “yes! It is an excellent idea!”

Uncomfortable at their agreement, Mondo finally tears his eyes away, ignoring the churning feeling in his chest as he storms down the hall to where the bathhouse is, mere meters away. Ishimaru stares after him for a stunned second, but quickly spurs himself into motion, using his long-ish legs to catch up quick, head held high as they march determinedly on. God... he’s so fucking...

Shit.

When they reach the bathhouse a few moments later, Mondo firmly pushes aside the rational voice inside him that is screaming at him not to do this. He knows his limits when it comes to endurance. While he’s not the best at running, he has great endurance for other things, especially pain and discomfort. (This sentence was removed due to ~~spoilers~~)

But Ishimaru... fuck. He’s so fucking passionate, so fucking determined, but who knows what his endurance is like? If he’ll be able to keep up? And it shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t give Mondo pause, but he... he can’t help the stab of concern that fills him as they enter the room, Mondo grabbing a ‘closed for repairs’ sign and putting it in front of the entrance, not wanting anyone to interrupt.

He hates the feeling and pushes it away as he turns to glare at Ishimaru, pointing a finger, not wanting to deal with such weakness, but he... he can’t quite manage to force it fully away...

Shit.

“Alright, here’s the fuckin’ terms. First ta tap out is a fuckin’ bitch ass loser who ain’t worth shit. The one who lasts the longest is the official winner. We ain’t allowed ta touch the other or do anythin’ ta them directly, this is strictly an endurance challenge. Oh, an’ we’re gonna do this fully clothed. What do ya say?!”

Mondo sees Ishimaru’s eyes widen when he gets to the last term, the kid fucking shaking his head sharply in denial. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. He’d added that last clause in last minute, realizing as he detailed the rules that they were gonna be fucking half fucking naked in there, and his mind had shorted the fuck out. He’s been in saunas fully clothed before, he knows he can handle it, but he isn’t fucking sure he can handle sitting nearly nude beside Ishi-fucking-maru...

But of course, the kid wouldn’t fucking agree. Of fucking course...

“I do not agree to that last term, but I agree to the rest!”

Glad his angry flush fully disguises the fucking embarrassed flush he can feel rising on his face, Mondo just nods tensely, sneering, as he storms over to the water cooler in the corner.

“Alright, whatever, fucker. Ya got five minutes ta prepare. Then, we’re fuckin’ doin’ this shit.”

With that, Mondo grabs a paper cup and downs some water, feeling so impossibly tense. He can feel Ishimaru staring at him, mouth partially open, but he gets spurned into action when Naegi shifts awkwardly beside him, chasing the kid away to one of the lockers, where he... he fucking...

Starts taking off his fucking clothes...

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Mondo is staring. Mondo knows he shouldn’t be staring, knows it’s wrong to be staring, but he can’t fucking help it. His eyes are like magnets, drawn to the kid, watching as he takes off all of his fucking layers, folding each one so neatly and carefully as he sticks them in the small fucking locker. The kid hesitates a little when he gets to his fucking tighty-whities (of course the kid wears that shit, of fucking course), but ultimately, he doesn’t take them off. Instead, he bites his lip and grabs a white towel, wrapping it firmly around his waist before putting the rest of his stuff away. Mondo firmly pushes down the stupid as shit rush of disappointment and tells himself to stop staring, to look away, but god, he fucking can’t. Ishimaru, he...

He’s so fucking gorgeous, so fucking hot, so fucking sexy-

Mondo feels himself heat the fuck up when Ishimaru turns abruptly and looks him straight in the eyes, looking fucking startled at something. Feeling strangely caught, Mondo looks away as quick as he can, pushing away the stupid as shit thoughts, marching over to a locker stiffly. Shit... he’s gotta fucking get laid one of these days. The tension is doing fucked up shit to his brain...

He takes his time putting some of his more fragile shit away, like his crappy cellphone and his key card. He does, honestly, consider taking off his uniform, or at least taking off his duster, but he just... shit. Can’t. Not with how strange he feels inside, his mind’s eye still stupidly forcing him to think of Ishimaru, his stupidly muscular back flexing with every move he made. It means nothing, fucking nothing, but he... shit. It prolly would be better to remain fully clothed, duster included, even if it does put him at a disadvantage. But ya know what, whatever. Doesn’t matter. He knows his limits and knows that he can last longer in the sauna than Ishimaru, even when fully clothed. Shit...

When the five minutes he gave them are up, he meets up with Ishimaru outside the entrance to the sauna, fully intending to slide it open and step inside, when-

“Owada-kun, you cannot seriously be considering entering the sauna fully clothed! It’s suicide!” Ishimaru exclaims, sounding fucking concerned as shit. His eyes are wide, and his brows are furrowed, and he’s biting his fucking lip, god fucking damn, and it’s messing with Mondo’s head so fucking much. Why... why the fuck would he care?! Huh?! They’re not fucking friends! Why would he care if Mondo did try and kill himself, huh?! World would fucking be better off for it, shit!

Deciding to definitely not say that, Mondo just sneers at the kid, crossing his arms stubbornly.

“Just ‘cuz yer a fuckin’ pansy ass bitch don’t mean I am! Now, ya ready ta do this, or are ya a fuckin’ chicken?!”

His face flushed, Ishimaru doesn’t even bother to answer, instead just yanking open the door and entering the sauna with a stubborn tilt to his jaw.

Staring after the kid for a split second (pushing down the disappointment that he didn’t press the issue harder, proving to Mondo how fucking right he is), Mondo enters on Ishimaru’s heels, the heat not even bothering him one bit.

It’s nothing compared to the fire that constantly burns within him.

Sliding the door shut behind him, leaving Naegi outside to do whatever the fuck he wants while the contest takes place, Mondo marches over to where Ishimaru is sitting, taking a seat an arm’s length away. He can feel bright red eyes on him, but he determinedly pushes the feeling away, trading a few snide comments with the kid, not even feeling the heat really.

About ten minutes in, Mondo will admit the heat is getting to him a little, a thin sheen of sweat making its way onto his skin, which is more uncomfortable than anything. Ishimaru looks a little woozy, so Mondo taunts that the kid should just give up now. Ishimaru just laughs, saying how he never gives up, ever. Fucking pretentious bastard.

After half an hour, he can admit he is feeling kinda uncomfortable, the heat becoming somewhat unpleasant, but he’s still feeling pretty good, all things considered. Ishimaru looks flushed as all hell, though, his cheeks bright red and sweat clinging to his muscles. The kid tells him— unprompted— that he’s doing fine, and Mondo’s brain feels too stupid to allow him to do much else than glare, shit...

After around fifty minutes, the kid... he looks fucking awful. Mondo isn’t doing too hot, the uncomfortable feeling spreading to be extremely uncomfortable, but he knows he can handle it. The kid, though... he looks like he’s starting to lose it. Ishimaru mentions absently that he’s starting to feel cold, which honestly concerns Mondo, since he knows that shit is a bad sign, but his head is too stupid to remember why, so he just says it’s prolly not good. The kid doesn’t call it quits, though.

Instead, he actually... talks... huh.

“Y-you can take off your uniform... if you w-want... I- I won’t judge...” the boy mumbles, sounding super fucking exhausted. Mondo tries to snort, but it’s a lot harder than it should be, shit.

“N-nah... I’m... I’m... I’m good,” Mondo finds himself muttering back, looking at the kid intensely, wondering why he isn’t giving up when he so clearly feels sick. Mondo finds himself muttering about how red Ishimaru’s is, likening him to a hot spring monkey, of all things. The kid mumbles back about being born with a red face, which makes no fucking sense, but ya know what? He’s too tired to waste energy on this shit. He’s got a challenge to win.

After what he figures is an hour and five minutes, the warning bell rings, telling them they have five minutes until curfew. Mondo figures the hall monitor will end this now, since he wouldn’t dare stay out past curfew and risk breaking one of his ‘precious rules,’ but the kid doesn’t seem to even notice the bell had rung. S-shit... that... that’s not good, is it...?

Mondo gets distracted from his stupid as shit concern when a new voice pipes up, shocking Mondo. Huh... he hadn’t realized the kid was still out there. Shit.

“U-uh guys? It’s almost curfew, shouldn’t you... stop? I know you both want to prove how big of badasses you are but... don’t you think you’ve done enough?”

Mondo scowls at the meaning of the words, knowing that he sure as shit ain’t gonna back down first. He’s already so worthless. He’s gotta prove that he can at least do this, of all fucking things.

“Shut up!” he barks, at the same time Ishimaru does, making him feel fucking wigged out at how they’re both on the same page again.

Naegi replies back to them, saying something about it being nighttime, and a tie... it honestly offends Mondo, but before he can reply, the kid is... talking... saying something about how in a true competition, there are no ties. That you either win or you lose, and that... that’s the only thing that matters. It honestly kinda pisses Mondo off, even if he agrees fully, so he fires back how he will push the kid right up to the gates of hell, meaning it fully.

He tells Naegi to leave then, knowing that this might drag on a lot longer than he had anticipated. Shit. He knew Ishimaru was fucking stubborn as shit, willing to do absolutely anything to reach his goals, but this... this is just madness. Utter madness. As Naegi leaves, Mondo cannot help how he stares at the hall monitor, who looks so fucking sick right now. He does his best to ignore it, to wait the kid out, but when roughly fifteen more minutes pass and the kid isn’t tapping out, despite looking half dead, he... he can’t help the worry that he feels. And then, when the kid closes his eyes, barely breathing, Mondo... s-shit...

“Hey... man... are you... are you okay...? Ya don’t... don’t look so good...”

Mondo listens, getting really kinda freaked, when Ishimaru lets out a soft puff of air, almost like he’s trying to laugh but can’t find the energy. He lolls his head over to Mondo, the first movement he’s done in minutes, but his eyes are still closed, which looks so fucking freaky. It takes him far longer than it should to open his eyes, and when he does, they... shit. They look glazed, like the kid isn’t fucking in there, like he... he’s...

Already dead...

F-fuck...

It really does look like that, though. Eyes glazed, mouth partially open, chest so scarily still... o-oh, shit. Shit, what if he... what if he is dead...?! Y-yeah, he just moved, but he- he looks so still, it... Mondo...

But then the kid is speaking, and he sounds so very out of it, but at least he’s alive, thank god...

“I- I’m... I’m fine, I...”

Oh, shit... no, he... he’s not fine, is he...? Shit... s-shit...

“Shit... man... no, y’ain’t. I know my... my limits. I’ve got some time... left in me... but you... shit. Just give up, dude. Just... just give... up...”

It makes something in Mondo clench when he sees the kid’s face screw up, like he wants to cry but just has no tears left within him. And then he... he’s speaking...

“No... n-no, I can’t... I- I can’t... give up... I have to... have to...”

The kid stops, then, and Mondo feels so fucking confused, his head all stupid because of the heat, making it hard to think. What? He has to... what?

“Hafta... what? What... is so important... ta ya?”

The kid blinks, like he hadn’t expected to be spoken to, before opening his mouth and muttering words. It... it’s like the kid doesn’t even know he’s speaking, the words sounding so fucking slurred and soft. Mondo has to strain to hear them, even though the silence is oppressive between them.

“I can’t... give up... must... restore... honor... family... f-family name...”

Mondo furrows his eyebrows, his lips turned down in a frown, not... not understanding...

“Yer family... name? What… what about it?”

Ishimaru blinks, like he can barely understand what Mondo is saying, and fuck is that scary...

“I must... fix his mistakes. I must... I must bring honor t-to... to our name... my grandfather...”

Okay, that... that doesn’t make any fucking sense... his grandfather? The fuck? Shit... Ishimaru needs to stop this, he... he’s not making any sense...

“What? The fuck... the fuck ya talkin’ ‘bout, man? Shit... Ishimaru, yer ‘bout ta... ta fuckin’ pass out... why can’t ya just... just give up, man?”

Ishimaru isn’t looking at him anymore and is instead staring blankly at the steam that is billowing around them, looking like he’s not aware where the fuck he is. It makes Mondo’s stomach clench, the concern rising. He... he doesn’t wanna give up, needs to prove himself, but he... Ishimaru... f-fuck...

And then... Ishimaru starts talking again...

“It... it’s all up to me to fix it... t-to make it better... m-make it- it right-! I... I can’t... give up, I... I’m not... not allowed to... give up... giving up is- is wrong... and immoral, and- and I am not wrong! I... I’m not- not immoral... I... I’m better... better than my grandfather... better than myself... better... than...”

Okay. Okay. Okay, it’s official. Mondo is fucking freaked the fuck out. What... what does any of that even mean? He... Ishimaru...

“Fuck, dude, yer- yer scarin’ me... what the hell does… does any a’ that even… even mean? Yer the fuckin’... Ultimate Moral Compass... ‘course yer not- not... immoral...”

Ishimaru is shaking now, eyes still glazed, staring at the steam as if it holds the answer to life itself. And fuck... it’s so fucking creepy...

“But I am, I am... I’m worthless, I’m nothing... my grandfather... he’d done so many terrible things, had hurt s-so many people... he’d ruined... ruined Japan... e-everyone hated him... hated me... I have to do better... to be better... to fix... my grandfather’s... mistakes...”

His grandfather? Who the fuck is his grandfather? And why... why does he even matter? Even if he was so fucking terrible, Ishimaru... he ain’t... he...

“Dude... y’ain’t... ain’t yer grandfather... yer yer own person... an’ frankly... I kinda... kinda like... s-shit. Just... stop this, man. Just admit it. Admit it’s... too much...”

The kid shakes his head, and Mondo doesn’t know how he’s able to even hear him, as far fucking gone as he looks, but fuck, he’s clearly responding, ain’t he...?

“Nnnn- n-no! I- I... I can’t... can’t admit... weakness... god I’m so... so weak... pathetic... the children, they’re right about me, they’re all so... so right... I’ll never... amount to- to anything... I’m worthless... pathetic... scum...”

H-holy shit... Ishimaru he... he can’t fucking believe that... can he? No... n-no, he... he ain’t none of that shit, Mondo is, Mondo is, but not- not Ishimaru! He... he’s fucking... he...

“Ishimaru... Ishimaru, stop... s-stop! Y’ain’t... none a’ that is... is true... yer the best... goddamn person I ever... ever met, ya... ya never gave up on me... no matter how horrible I treated ya... ya just... wouldn’t leave... I tried ta make ya leave, why... why wouldn’t ya leave...”

He hadn’t meant to ask the question, voice so fucking soft, but he couldn’t help it. It’s been plaguing him for weeks now, wondering why... why Ishimaru bothered staying... why he didn’t just leave his ass... why he didn’t just... give up on him... like everyone always does...

“Me... leave? Why? Where would I... go...? I’ve n-never... had a friend... if this is... is friendship... then what else can I... do? I don’t... w-wanna... be...... alone.........”

Oh... oh, shit... suddenly, so many things make so much fucking sense. Why the kid always seems so fucking nervous and awkward around people, though he tries his damndest to hide it. Why he is always alone, never seen really talking to anyone, not without a reason. Why he always... always does his best to extend olive branches to people, offering to tutor or help or do whatever is needed to... to get them to talk to him... g-god... he never would have thought the kid would have no friends, even though it’s so fucking obvious when Mondo thinks about it. He’s just... he’s just so fucking bright and full of sunshine... Mondo can’t imagine people seeing that and not... not wanting to...

It’s right then, in that moment, brain stupid from heat, halfway gone but not fully gone yet, that Mondo... Mondo makes a decision.

If they survive this stupid fucking challenge... he... he will be Ishimaru— no, Kiyotaka, his name is- is Kiyotaka... he will be Kiyotaka’s friend... and he will be a fucking good one, the friend that the kid... that he fucking deserves...

If the kid even wants to be friends with him...

“Fuckin’... shit, man. Yer not... alone... I’m here. Ishimaru... Kiyotaka... I’m right... right here...”

The kid shakes his head, breath still shallow, but now it’s wavering, shaking... trembling... g-god... fuck...

“No... no... I’m alone, I’m alone. Everyone... always leaves... my mother... my grandfather... even my father would leave... if he could... he’s never... never understood me. No one... understands me... I don’t... even... understand...... myself..........”

Oh. Oh. Oh. This... this poor fucking boy... he... s-shit. Shit... this... they gotta fucking stop this... they...

“I... I understand ya. Yer... yer like me... ain’t ya? Shit. We gotta... gotta stop this, man... what are ya... tryin’... ta prove?”

Kiyotaka is shaking again, looking like he wants to cry but just... can’t. God... god... fucking... god.

“Everything. Everything. Every… everything… I have to prove them... wrong. I have to prove... that I can do this. If I... if I give up... i-if I let myself give up... then I fail. I fail, I fail, I fail, I fail, I fail. I c-can’t... fail, I can’t... g-give up... or else... what is... the point... of me...?”

Point? The point? Why... why does he have to have a point? Shit... he’s so fucking amazing, he... he doesn’t have to have a point... no more than just... just being...

“Ain’t gotta... have a point man... ya can just... be. Be... Kiyotaka. What’s so wrong... with that?”

The blank look on the kid’s face grows, his voice soft, weak. Trembling, like he doesn’t mean to say it, like he doesn’t even know what he’s saying. Mondo has never heard someone sound so... so... dead before... h-holy shit...

“Everything. Everything. Everything. E-everything... is wrong with... me... I- I’m too... too much. T-too passionate... too vibrant... I- I hurt... hurt my own eyes... I hate... l-looking at myself... hate... b-being myself... if I could... be someone else... I- I would... gladly...”

No. No. No, fucking... no! Ish- Kiyo... Kiyotaka can’t fucking believe that... yeah, he’s so fucking passionate, so fucking bright, but that... that’s not a bad thing... he... he’s so fucking good... so fucking... amazing... and he... Mondo wouldn’t...

“I wouldn’t. Want that. Yer... fuck. Yer somethin’... somethin’ special... I thought I... I hated that ‘bout you, but... man you... you shine... I don’t deserve... someone as... as wonderful... as you...”

Kiyotaka is shaking his head again, barely breathing, looking so dead, so very, very... dead...

Oh, god...

“I- I’m not... wonderful. I’m not... anything. T-the children... they hated me... t-they all... hated me. My f-father... hates me. My mother... if she could s-see me... now... s-she’d hate me... too. Why... w-why do I bother... trying...? W-why... why don’t I just... g-give up...”

N-no... no, no, god, please... no... Mondo feels pressure behind his eyes, and he doesn’t think he has ever felt such pain. Because that... that sounds so goddamn familiar... he always has seen Kiyotaka as so different to him, so much better, so much brighter. But if the kid is to be believed... he... he thinks of himself like... like Mondo thinks of himself, and he... he can’t... can’t fucking stand that thought, oh god...

“Kiyo... Kiyota- Taka. Kiyo... Taka. Just... ya don’t hafta... give up... but yer... yer gonna kill yerself if ya... keep this up... s-shit...”

Mondo feels himself go cold when Kiyotaka responds, sounding half dead, looking so... so nothing...

“Kill... myself? No... I’m not- not that weak... not anymore... not... n-not again... but maybe... maybe... m-maybe it would be better. If I weren’t... weren’t...” a pause. “Alive...”

What?! No... no, no.... nonononononononononono-!!! He... he can’t... he can’t-

“What?! Dude... no... god... fuckin’... dammit! Ya can’t be... serious... Kiyo... Taka, ya can’t...”

“I am. I am. I- I am. If I wasn’t... so weak. If I wasn’t... s-so afraid. I know... k-know how to fix it... a-all of it. How to... t-to make it better. My father... would be happier. The children... w-would be happier. And I... I... I’d be... I’d be...”

A pause. Inhalation of breath. And then... softly, so fucking softly...

“Dead...”

No. No. No, fucking-! No. This... this is so fucking stupid, why is Mondo doing this, he... he has to stop this. This kid ain’t gonna stop, he can’t fucking stop, he won’t stop until he is fucking dead, and Mondo... Mondo can’t... he fucking can’t-

He can’t lose someone else... not during another fucking challenge that he fucking issued... he just... can’t.

“Okay. That’s it. This ain’t... fuckin’ worth it. If y’ain’t... gonna quit... then I! I fuckin’... I fuckin’ will. Ya... ya win... Kiyo... Taka... ya... ya win. Now, c’mon, man. Let’s… let’s get outta here.”

With all the strength he has left, Mondo stands and hobbles over to where Kiyotaka is sitting, looking like a puppet with its strings cut. He’s not moving, barely breathing, and his eyes are so glazed over Mondo doesn’t think he can even see right now. Mondo has never seen someone look so still before, and it scares the ever-loving shit out of him. Especially now that he... he knows that... that the kid has tried... or at least wanted...

Fuck.

But he doesn’t have time to hate himself for issuing this stupid ass challenge. He doesn’t have time to waste. Gathering all his strength, he bends down, and he wraps an arm around Kiyotaka, heart stopping when he feels how boneless he is, not moving at all. But then, as he starts moving towards the door, he feels the kid start to struggle. It’s weak and doesn’t sway Mondo even a second, but fuck does it relieve him. The kid is even able to walk a little, barely. It... it’s good.

The second he manages to get the door open, however, the cool air almost torture on his overheated skin, he feels Kiyotaka gasp, all the fragile strength he had gone as his knees buckle, making him deadweight. But Mondo hasn’t spent the majority of his life lifting weights for nothing, so he just adjusts his grip, taking on more of the kid’s weight. He doesn’t lift him, doesn’t have time for that, but he drags him bodily over to the bench, accidentally throwing him on it since he’s not really at a hundred percent himself. He sees the kid start to topple, then, and he immediately moves forward to steady the kid, the skin under his hands far, far too warm. Oh... shit, that’s not... not good, oh fuck...

“Goddamn shit. Ya look... fuck man. Why didn’t ya just... dammit. Ya need water... I’ll be right back.”

Mondo stand abruptly then, feeling clumsy and wrong. His chest feels so fucking painful, like it’s being sat on by an elephant, and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt more concerned for anyone. Well... other than one person... but shit, he can’t think of him, not now. Not now. Not when Kiyotaka needs him. He takes off his duster as he strides forward, tossing it carelessly on a bench, too fucking hot to deal with that shit. He needs to go quick, needs to... to get back to Kiyotaka... and he needs to drink some water himself, fuck, he’s so fucking dehydrated... fuck.

However... once he’s at the water cooler, filling up one of the paper cups for himself to drink, he hears the kid muttering again, the words making no goddamn sense, but damn if it doesn’t make his heart clench...

“...they won’t, they won’t, they won’t... I’m alone, again... all alone... everyone has left... everyone leaves me in the end... why would I expect anything different... why would I expect-“

Shit. Shit. Shit. Mondo quickly finishes filling the cup and downs it, filling the second one as quickly as possible while the kid rambles on about being alone again. As soon as the cup is full Mondo practically teleports back to the kid’s side, an odd sense in him that he never, ever wants to be anywhere else...

“Shit, Kiyotaka, I’m here. I just... had ta drink myself, shit. Now c’mon. Drink this. Please, man. Fer me. I can’t... ya can’t fuckin’ die on me, man... f-fuck...”

He carefully places his hand on the back of Kiyotaka’s neck, lifting it gently up, so he can get the kid to drink some water. He knows that the boy is prolly dehydrated as fuck, and he seriously hopes that’s the only thing wrong with him, because if it isn’t... s-shit. He can feel Kiyotaka struggle as he moves him, his lips moving, muttering those fucking words again...

“W-why am I so weak, I need to... to be stronger... to be... better...”

God, is everything this kid says gonna make his heart break? God... he’s not equipped for this, he doesn’t know how to be kind, to be gentle, but after all the shit he has done, all the pain and misery he has needlessly made this wondrous, incredible, sad fucking boy go through... he owes it to him to not only try, but to succeed.

Even if it fucking kills him...

“Shh... hey, it’s okay. Y’ain’t fuckin’ weak, man, yer goddamn incredible. Now c’mon. Stop fightin’ me. Let me take care a’ you. You... you’ve been so strong fer so long. Let me... let me help you...”

With that, he slowly presses the cup against the kid’s lips, and he feels as he struggles, whimpering softly, scared. Shit, he... he prolly has no idea what the fuck is going on, is so fucking disoriented...

He begins whispering to the kid then, not knowing what to say, but just... knowing he has to say something, something soothing. He hums softly as he decides to just... let the soft words that he’s been gathering for weeks now out of his heart, telling Kiyotaka that he is there, that he will always be there, promising that he’s not alone, that he’ll never be alone again, that Mondo will take care of him, he promises... he promises...

And then he... he says...

“Open up, Kiyotaka, shit. P-please... I’m beggin’ ya man... just... drink some water...”

The kid... Kiyotaka stops struggling then, and finally, finally opens his lips. It’s just a little, a small amount, but it’s enough for a small trickle of water to get passed his dry and cracked lips, which is so fucking relieving. But then... then the kid startles again, a soft sound of distress getting released as he panics, taking too much water too quick. Oh, shit...

So fucking scared, not knowing what to do but knowing he has to do something, Mondo lowers the hand holding the cup but doesn’t put it down, moving his other hand to rub soothing circles on the kid’s back, shushing him softly.

“Aw, shit. Slowly, man, slowly. That’s it, nice an’ easy... I’m gonna try that again, okay? Go slow this time. Idiot.”

With that, Mondo moves his hand back to Kiyotaka’s neck and brings the cup back up to his lips, praying that he will drink this time. He’s so fucking dehydrated and if he won’t drink, Mondo is gonna have to call an ambulance or some shit, because he needs liquid, and fast.

Luckily, this time when he asks the kid to open up, he does so immediately. And then, when he tips a little of the liquid into his mouth, the kid doesn’t panic and just... sips it. Slowly. Mondo can see his throat working, moving slowly, swallowing the water, and fuck... he’s never felt so relieved in his life, watching the kid drink some fucking water, god...

However, then the kid is letting out a sound of desperation, seeming to realize that he is so fucking thirsty or something. He sees the kid’s hands try to come up, wavering so fucking much as they try and force the water down faster, but Mondo stops him, knowing he needs to go slow.

“Aw, shit man, stop! Ya gotta go slow. Yer dehydrated, ya can’t drink it too fast... trust me, man. I got you. I won’t let you down. Not again. I… I promise.”

And he means it. He fucking means it. He has failed this kid so many fucking times, but he won’t this time, and he never will again. Because now he... he knows that this kid fucking matters. He’s always known that, from the minute the kid had run into him and knocked his world on its side, but- but he... he’s always been so afraid of it. Of the feeling. Of what it means.

But he’s not afraid of it. Not now. Not... not anymore. He doesn’t know why he feels this way, why this boy matters so fucking much to him, but it just doesn’t matter now, and he refuses to let his goddamn fucking nonsense ruin this shit anymore. This kid has faced some truly horrible fucking things, things that Mondo has barely scratched the surface of but can tell have damaged the kid so fucking much. He has scars all over his chest and back, which Mondo has noticed before, of course he’s noticed them, but now he’s really starting to realize what exactly they mean, and it just... it’s fucking him up inside, and all he wants is to bundle this kid up and never let him get hurt again, keep him safe from all harm, and Mondo has always felt like that, always wanted that, but now, for once...

He’s not afraid of it.

And he won’t back down.

Not unless Kiyotaka wants him to...

(But even then. Even then, Mondo will do everything he can to keep him safe. He won’t stalk the kid, but he will make sure that no one dares to lay a finger on him. He’s firmly under Mondo’s protection now. Nothing will change that. Absolutely nothing.)

Knowing that Kiyotaka needs to drink more, so he’s not so weak (physically. He’s so fucking strong emotionally, so fucking strong) anymore, he presses the cup back to the boy’s lips, his heart lurching softly when the kid immediately opens up and drinks, slowly, not even needing Mondo to remind him to go slow and steady. Mondo is so fucking proud of the kid, like a fucking mother hen, but he doesn’t care. This kid deserves all the softness in the world. If there’s one thing Mondo is sure of, it’s that.

It doesn’t take long for the cup to run empty, but the kid needs more, so Mondo gets up to refill the cup. But then he’s fucking crying, sad and pitiful, and Mondo immediately returns, holding him close, saying to him, “aw, shit, I’m just getting more water, alright? I’ll be right back, I promise.”

And when Mondo is forced to leave again— though god does he not want to— he keeps talking. Promising that he’ll be right back, that he’s not leaving, that he will never leave again... promises that he will never break, and not just because he doesn’t break promises, but because he fucking means the shit out of them. More than any promise he’s ever made before.

He’s back soon after, bringing two cups with him this time, helping Kiyotaka drink, and drink, and drink. Mondo doesn’t know much about severe dehydration, just knows that it’s important for the person to be given fluids, preferably sports drinks, but since he doesn’t have that shit, water will have to do. If Kiyotaka doesn’t get better after the third cup, Mondo’s gonna try and see if he can take him to the nurse if the lady is still there. If not... shit. He’ll prolly have to call an ambulance, since he doesn’t think Kiyotaka could handle riding on his hog to the hospital, which is at least a ten-minute ride away. He’s hoping he won’t have to do that, though. Hopes that drinking the water will be enough to help him. He also hopes that it’s just dehydration that’s the problem... fuck.

The good thing is that Kiyotaka is drinking willingly. And the more he drinks, the more lucid he appears. He still seems very out of it, but about halfway through the third cup, he starts blinking rapidly, like waking himself from a dream. His eyebrows furrow, and he starts looking around a bit. He takes in the bathhouse and even looks down at his chest, like he’s just then noticing that he’s half naked. Mondo allows him to do this, but always makes sure the kid is still drinking, wanting to make sure he gets at least three cups in, since he had to have lost a lot of water while sweating. Mondo himself isn’t feeling too hot and knows he needs to drink more, too, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t ensure that Kiyotaka is okay before doing anything else for himself.

Mondo knows the exact second that things slot into place for the kid, since one second he’s loose and pliant in his arms, allowing him to hold his neck and give him the water, and the next he’s sitting ramrod straight, eyes wide. It startles Mondo a bit and he straightens up from the hunch he’d found himself in, so fucking relieved to see some lucidity in those bright red eyes. Fuck, but was that glazed look terrifying...

“Oh, shit. Are ya back? Ya really fuckin’ scared me there, dude, the fuck...? I was ‘bout ta take yer ass ta the nurse, consequences be damned. Shit, should I still do that...? Kiyotaka?”

The kid is just staring at him, his skin far too pale, his eyes moving back and forth over Mondo’s face as he seems to try to be figuring something out. They then widen somehow further and then-

“Aw, shit! Fuck, man, what the hell!”

Mondo stares wide eyed at the kid as he abruptly stands, his body shaking horribly, looking like he just saw a ghost, shit... Mondo is afraid the kid is about to collapse so he stands quickly, hands hovering to ensure he doesn’t fall, but the kid doesn’t seem to notice him. Oh... shit... he’s not better, is he? God fucking dammit...

“W-w-w-what... w-what... h-h-happened?! I... I didn’t... oh god...”

Mondo sees Kiyotaka sway then, looking like he’s about to faint, scaring the absolute shit out of Mondo. Rushing forward, he grabs the kid by his shoulders, holding him upright. Part of him wants to pull him close, to wrap him up and never let him go, but he can tell the kid is super fucking freaked out, and he doesn’t want to make him panic, shit.

“What the fuck... aw, shit, y’ain’t better. Okay, that’s it. I’m takin’ ya ta the fuckin’ nurse. Goddamnit...”

Mondo tries to move Kiyotaka, then, carefully guiding him over to the door so they can make the stupidly long walk to the nurse’s office, mind racing a mile a minute as he tries to determine if it wouldn’t just be better to call the ambulance now. On one hand, he doubts the nurse is still there, since it’s well after curfew, but on the other... calling for an ambulance means he might have to explain this shit, and he just... shit. But he needs to do right by Kiyotaka, and if that includes getting himself in trouble, he’ll fucking do it. He doesn’t care what happens to him, just as long as this wonderful, incredible boy is safe. Huh...

As distracted as Mondo is, he doesn’t expect any resistance to his movement, expecting Kiyotaka to be as pliant as he previously had been. As such, when the kid fucking pulls away from him, weak as it is, Mondo isn’t expecting it and thus is unable to keep his grip. And he watches, heart stopping, as the kid slams into the row of lockers, collapsing immediately to the ground with a soft noise of pain.

Shit!!!

“Shit! Kiyotaka, are you fuckin’ alright?! What the hell, man?! Stop bein’ an idiot and let me take ya ta the nurse, fuck!”

He doesn’t mean to sound angry or anything, he’s just so fucking scared, needing the kid to cooperate so he can just get better already and not make Mondo worry he’s gonna fucking die or something... but given the way that Kiyotaka glares at him (or tries to glare, Mondo can tell he’s still a little out of it and can’t quite put the usual amount of passion into it), he can tell the kid intends to be difficult, looking at him like he doesn’t want Mondo to come any closer or something. Mondo immediately says, ‘fuck that,’ though, and rushes to the kid’s side, kneeling down, his eyes bleeding with his concern. He watches the kid blink, some more lucidity rising within the red, as he opens his mouth to speak.

“W-wait! I don’t... dang it. I don’t need to go to the- t-the nurse! I’m just... confused. Give me... give me a moment to... collect myself!” Kiyotaka says, his chest heaving with the effort of speaking. Mondo looks at him firmly, ensuring the kid means it and that he’s not just saying random, nonsense bullshit again.

Once he’s satisfied that the kid is, in fact, lucid enough to make that decision, he nods stiffly, still feeling so very, very concerned.

“Alright... shit, fine. If ya say so. But ya gotta drink some more water, alright?! Slowly. I should drink more too, fuck...”

Mondo stands, then, and walks over to the water cooler again, hands tingling unpleasantly as he leaves Kiyotaka’s side. He quickly fills up two fresh cups of water and hurries back, handing the kid one of the cups as soon as he is by his side.

As soon as the kid takes it, Mondo flops down to sit beside him, so close they touch, and begins to drink his water, finding comfort in being able to feel the kid warm against his side. He is honestly thirsty as fuck, wanting to gulp it down again, but he forces himself to go slow, not wanting to be a hypocrite. He notices after a second that Kiyotaka isn’t drinking and is just staring at him blankly, eyes glazing over again, which scares him more than he is willing to say, fuck.

“Dude. Drink. Or I’m draggin’ ya ta the nurse, kickin’ an’ screamin’. Don’t think I won’t,” Mondo rumbles, startling the kid out of whatever fugue he’d entered into. The kid glares at him lightly, not nearly as strong as Mondo knows it could be, but at least he doesn’t try and counter him. He just brings the cup to his lips and drinks the cool water slowly, his eyes darting back and forth as he thinks hard about something. They don’t glaze over again, though, so Mondo lets him be and just drinks his water, every cell in his body so fucking aware of the kid sitting directly beside him. It honestly would scare him, how much he cares about this kid, if he’d not already decided to not care about that shit anymore. He cares about the kid. He doesn’t know why, he just does. End of fucking story.

Mondo doesn’t know how long they sit there drinking their water, and he doesn’t really care. He usually hates sitting still for so long, his skin crawling to get up and do something already, but strangely... he doesn’t really mind it too much. Sitting here, beside Kiyotaka. It... despite the worry he still feels, there’s also a strange calmness inside him now. Like... like something inside him that had been out of place and broken for years is just... gone, allowing him to breathe easy for the first time. It’s so strange but also... so very, very nice...

Eventually their cups run empty, and Mondo is about to offer to get them both some more water again when the kid speaks. His voice is low and shaky, but it sounds a lot better and more lucid than it had before, which relieves the shit out of him. But then he comprehends the words, and he...

“O-Owada... back in... in the, uh, sauna... I didn’t, um. Say anything strange. Did I?” Kiyotaka asks softly, looking very nervous. It concerns Mondo a lot that the kid apparently doesn’t remember what happened in the sauna, but he supposes it makes sense. He had been super fucking outta it...

He still takes his time to think about it. He usually just blurts out his words, no thought put into them at all, but this... shit. This matters. And he has to be so fucking careful if he doesn’t want to hurt the kid again. And god, does he not wanna do that...

Finally, he figures he’ll go the safe route and figure out what, exactly, the kid does and doesn’t remember. If he remembers nothing, then maybe... maybe it would be better to keep it that way, shit...

Ignoring the way his heart clenches at the thought, he sets his face into a carefully neutral expression, revealing nothing as he speaks, voice a low rumble.

“That depends. What do ya remember?”

Mondo watches, heart clenched strangely again, as Kiyotaka bites his lip gently, eyes unfocused as he thinks. They’re not glazed, though, so Mondo thinks he’s just concentrating, not zoning out. After a few moments, the kid glances up at him, expression open and searching. It makes Mondo want to gasp, everything in him swirling, and when the kid speaks, still looking at him, he... h-he...

“I’m… I’m not sure. It’s all... fuzzy. I can’t quite tell... what is real or not. I have no idea what I said during that last part, though... just fragments of old memories and thoughts.” Kiyotaka pauses, his hands shaking lightly. He looks away then, down at the ground, and Mondo feels so strangely bereaved... “But I... I remember you... you said... things. About- a-about me. Y-you... you called me... wonderful. Special. H-heh! H-how r-ridiculous! I must... must have been- been hallucinating! Aha!”

The kid sounds nervous, frantic, like he’s afraid Mondo will hurt him, like he’s afraid Mondo will laugh at him, will tell him that he... he’s wrong, that Mondo hadn’t said that, that he... he doesn’t believe that...

Which is bullshit. Because he did say that. And he’d meant it. Means it. Fully and completely.

Mondo consciously forces his shoulders to lose the tension that had entered them unbidden at Kiyotaka’s frantic words, sighing softly, a wry smile rising on his lips as he looks at the kid. The kid looks so fucking scared, so desperate, like he doesn’t believe that Mondo had said that shit, but that he wants to believe it.

And, shit... even if he hadn’t said it, he sure as shit would say it now. Because Kiyotaka truly is wonderful and special, ain’t he...?

Heh...

“Nah. That, uh. That happened. You really don’t remember what you said?” he asks as casually as he can, his head tilted in question, hoping he’s hiding the way his heart is racing well enough, but honestly not really caring if he’s not. He... he doesn’t want to keep shit from this kid. Not... not anymore... he watches as Kiyotaka shakes his head weakly, moving his eyes to stare at his hands again. It makes Mondo’s smile widen, eyes soft as silk. Heh. So... so fucking cute...

“Heh. Makes sense. Ya weren’t exactly all there, ya know. Kept mumblin’ bits a’ nonsense. Could barely make sense a’ ya myself, tell the truth. Somethin’... somethin’ ‘bout yer grandfather. ‘Bout needin’ ta right his wrongs. An’ then there was somethin’ ‘bout other kids? An’ hatred? Ya mentioned how yer da don’t understand ya, how he hates ya, or somethin’. An’ ‘bout how... how ya... ya hate yerself. Which I think is fuckin’ bullshit, ya shouldn’t fuckin’ hate yerself, yer incredible, but whatever. There was a lot a’ other stuff too. ‘Bout not givin’ up, ‘bout havin’ ta prove people wrong. Some other shit, too, but I don’t really ‘member it all, sorry. But... shit man. Is that... is that real? Did ya... did ya really mean alla’ that?”

Mondo doesn’t really mean to ask the question, knowing the kid needs to be allowed to rest and relax, not be asked stupid fucking questions, but he can’t help it. He’s not lying when he says he doesn’t quite remember everything. It’s all starting to blur in his head, and while he’s fairly certain he remembers the most of it, some details are starting to slip away, and he just... did the kid really say all that shit, or had he imagined it, too? Shit...

But then... then, after a moment, Kiyotaka, he... h-he...

“Aw, shit,” he mutters under his breath, which seems to just make the kid cry harder. It breaks Mondo’s heart so much, hating seeing his tears. God... this kid just always fucking cries around him, doesn’t he...? Shit... shit! H-he didn’t want to make the kid cry! G-god, he... he wants so badly to hold the kid, to keep him safe from the sorrow within him, but would the kid even want that? After everything he’s done, all he’s taken from him, would he actually want to be held in his arms? It’s his fault he’s crying, his fault he’s in this situation, and he doesn’t know if Kiyotaka would want to be anywhere near him, let alone in his arms! But he... he wants so, so badly to... t-to...

“Please, man, don’t cry, shit, I’m sorry! I... aw, fuck it. Come here.”

Mind made up, Mondo darts forward and— carefully as he possibly can— wraps an arm around the kid, pulling him gently to his chest, firm and tight. He can feel the kid struggle against him, and it kills him inside to feel it, especially when the kid starts frantically apologizing, like he thinks Mondo is going to hurt him or something. He thinks it might be best to let him go, to apologize and never touch him again, but he... h-he thinks the problem isn’t that Mondo is hugging him, but that the kid thinks Mondo is upset. So maybe... if he can reassure the kid that it’s okay, that he wants this, maybe... m-maybe he’ll stop struggling so hard... and maybe... m-maybe...

“Shhh. Shh, c’mon. It’s okay, Kiyotaka. I’m here. Y’ain’t alone. I got you. Ain’t got nothin’ ta ‘pologize fer, ya got it? Yer okay. We’re both okay.”

He keeps his arms steady on Kiyotaka, praying to any god that will listen that he’s doing the right thing, that he’s not hurting the kid more, that this is okay, and then... after a minute... after a minute...

The kid stops. Stops struggling, stops apologizing. His chest is heaving, and his eyes are still leaking tears, but he doesn’t seem distressed at Mondo holding him anymore. At least... Mondo hopes he isn’t. And then... t-then...

Kiyotaka buries his head in his chest, firm and present, hiding his face. His arms come up too, fists curling into Mondo’s tank top, clutching it like his life depends on it. And then he... he just...

Lets go.

The kid is crying so fucking hard, chest heaving, sobs loud and noisy, and fuck, does it hurt. Mondo feels so fucking helpless as he holds the kid, doing all he can to rub soothing circles on his back, whisper soft words in his ear, doing all he can to remember the shit Daiya would say when he was little and he still allowed himself to cry, not yet realizing it was wrong of him to do such a thing. He feels like it’s not enough, never enough, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He’s never seen the kid cry so hard before. Before he- he would always stifle it, keep it in.

Mondo hadn’t realized it at the time, but seeing the kid truly let go now, he can see just how hard he would fight to keep his tears and true sorrow contained, and he feels so much for the boy that he can’t even begin to describe it. It’s like... a sad kind of pride. Like he’s proud the kid was able to keep going despite the sorrow and despair he clearly feels, but also so, so fucking sad that the kid had to do it. That he had to keep this all in, unable to have anyone to share his burden with, to shoulder the pain and anguish he so clearly feels inside. Mondo... M-Mondo knows what that is like, what it’s like to have to always keep everything in, never let it out, and he... he hates that Kiyotaka knows it, too. The pain. The loneliness.

Maybe they really aren’t so different... are they?

Fuck... and who knows? Maybe that’s why he’s always cared so much about this kid. He... he just reminds him of him so goddamn much. Of... of the kid he used to be, before he built up walls so high around that child that he’d never see the light of day again. Of the scared little boy that he was, wondering why his parents hated him, why he was never good enough, why he didn’t fucking matter. He’d always been so scared and sad back then, so small and weak. Kinda like Kiyotaka is now, even with how fucking strong he knows this kid to usually be.

But...

But he had Daiya, didn’t he? Even when the whole world was against him, (This sentence was removed due to ~~spoilers~~) he... he always had Daiya. Daiya, who loved him. Daiya, who cared for him. Daiya who raised him, Daiya who taught him, Daiya who sacrificed fucking everything for him. (This sentence was removed due to ~~spoilers~~). It didn’t matter that he was scared, or that he was weak. Daiya loved him regardless, and he always, always kept him safe.

Kiyotaka... Kiyotaka never had that... did he? He can’t say for sure, but the kid has never mentioned a sibling, either older or younger, which makes him think he’s an only, no sibs, bro or sis. Which means that he... he didn’t have anyone always on his side. Someone who would protect him no matter what. Or someone that he could protect, no matter what. His da is clearly not that great, if Kiyotaka’s words about him hating him were to go by, and his ma is gone, who knows for how long, or what his relationship was to her when she was around. He... he didn’t have someone to protect him... to keep him safe, from all harm... to... t-to love him...

Eventually the kid stops crying so hard, the desperate sobs petering out into soft, quiet ones, his breath hitching only slightly every few seconds. And then, a little while later he... he stops sobbing entirely. The tears have run dry, his body has stopped shaking, but he... he doesn’t move away. He just stays there, in Mondo’s arms.

Like he belongs there...

“Ya feelin’ better?”

The words are said softly. Gently. He doesn’t wanna spook the kid, knowing how fragile he prolly feels right about now. Mondo gets it. He hasn’t let himself cry fully in years, not even... h-heh. Well. Point is, while he’s not truly cried in years, he remembers how fragile it leaves you feeling afterward. How shaky.

And when he sees Kiyotaka’s eyes dart up, looking scared and afraid, Mondo doesn’t tense up. Doesn’t try and hide the openness on his face. He lets the kid see it. The softness. The care. The... the affection, because god, does he feel affection. He lets the kid see it, and he feels the kid settle against him, the fear vanishing, though the lingering sorrow remains. God... how Mondo wishes he could take that away...

“Yes. I... yes. M-Mondo... t-thank you. I... I’m sorry...”

Mondo can’t help the way he reaches out at that, hand gently grasping a warm, wet cheek. He realizes absently that that’s the first time the kid has said his name, and god is it making his insides squirm. And he can see the kid look at him with wide, watery eyes, lips open on a soft gasp, looking almost... dazed... shit...

“Don’t. Thank me. Apologize. Ain’t nothin’, got it? I... I didn’t mind. At all. So, don’t... don’t apologize. It’s alright. You’re... you’re alright.”

And he means it. God... does he mean it. It... it had felt nice. So very, very nice. Holding Kiyotaka. Comforting him as he cried, somehow not fucking it up as badly as he’d been fearing. He’s always been so fucking shit at comforting people, feeling like he has to be tough all the time, unable to comfort since tough people aren’t soft and sympathetic. But here, with Kiyotaka... h-he’d been able to be soft. Kind. Gentle. All the things he’s secretly yearned to be for so fucking long, but never was able to, since he doesn’t lead a life that is suited for such things. He always has to be so tough, so strong, but... but with Kiyotaka... with this wondrous, amazing, incredible, beautiful boy...

He can be soft.

And he will never be able to thank Kiyotaka enough for giving him that ability.

And when Kiyotaka smiles at him, wide, bright, unrestrained...? Mondo can’t help how he smiles back, wider than he’s ever felt it go before, heart beating so softly and yet meaningfully, feeling so very much for this precious boy. He... he’ll never be able to repay him for this... will he? For what he has given him this day... even if they are never this close again, even if Kiyotaka doesn’t want anything to do with him after this, he’ll never forget what this felt like. What it feels like to be soft. And gentle. And... and kind.

But... shit. Shit.

Now that they have this... now that he’s tasted this... what happens now? He... he doesn’t wanna...

“Shit, man. The fuck we do now? I... I don’t wanna go back ta how it was. I... shit. I was a goddamn monster ta ya these last few weeks... since we met, shit… I... goddamn it,” Mondo mutters, feeling his smile fade as pain fills him, remembering all the shit he has done to this poor, amazing kid. The shit he’s said. The way he’s acted. Kiyotaka gave him so much today, but he hadn’t earned any of it, had he...? He can see the kid shaking his head, looking frantic, like he doesn’t agree, and Mondo can’t help how he glares. Lightly, but it still makes the kid flinch back, proving how much he’s hurt him, and how much he can still, potentially, hurt him. God... he doesn’t wanna ever hurt him... not again… “No, don’t deny it. I was a fuckin’ moron. I just... I ain’t ever... I don’t get you, Kiyotaka. What I feel... when you- you look at me...”

And it’s true. He still doesn’t quite get it. What he feels. Why he feels it. It... he thinks he might kinda get it, might kinda realize what this feeling is, why he wants to protect this kid so badly, but it... it doesn’t quite feel like it fits. And he just... he just doesn’t know... but... if not this then... what else? H-heh...

Sighing softly, feeling so confused but strangely not angry about it, Mondo allows a wry smile to rise on his lips as he presses closer to the kid, as close as he’s always secretly longed to be, since that first day when he held him but not ever close enough. One of his hands is curled loosely around Kiyotaka’s waist, while his other is still gently cupping his cheek and has been for a little while now. He notices dimly how they are almost bare, Kiyotaka wearing only his underwear while Mondo is in his thin tank top and loose black pants, and he can feel the kid’s heat as it presses against him, oddly intoxicating. Mondo’s hair is down from its pomp, having been knocked loose sometime in the sauna, and it’s been years since someone outside his gang saw him without it up, it makes him feel so naked to have it down, but he... he doesn’t really care. Not when it’s only Kiyotaka who sees it.

He... he wants Kiyotaka to see all of him... every last part.

Because he... he views the kid like... like a...

“It’s like yer my brother or somethin’. Like... my nerdy, dorky little brother. Someone I gotta take care of. Protect. Keep safe, from all harm. I never... shit. I had my brother, but he... he’s gone now. I can’t... I couldn’t protect him, fuck. An’ I… f-fuck. I can’t protect you, either, can I...? No, I… I can’t... I can’t... a-and why the fuck would you want a fuck-up like me, anyway? You... god, you could do so much better... why would you want someone like me as your brother, s-shit...”

The thought stabs Mondo through the heart, the realization that as much as he may want to have this with Kiyotaka, to have a brotherhood with him, they... they likely never will. Because Mondo has messed up too much. Because Mondo ruined their chance before it ever even had the opportunity to live. Because Mondo is so fucking broken and damaged that no one in their right mind would ever want him as a brother. Daiya was forced to have him, and he was so fucking amazing that he chose to love him anyway, but Kiyotaka... he doesn’t have to be stuck with him. He doesn’t owe Mondo anything, anything at all. In fact, Mondo is the one who owes Kiyotaka. So much. So very, very much. Kiyotaka wouldn’t want him. He just... he wouldn’t.

And as he feels the kid freeze against him, breath stuttering and harsh, he... he knows he’s right, isn’t he? S-shit... he shouldn’t have said that, shouldn’t have thought himself good enough to deserve such a gift. Kiyotaka, wanting him like that... wanting him at all... while he may have been soft and pliant in his arms a moment ago, seeming like he was at ease, that doesn’t mean it was because of Mondo or anything that Mondo did. He’d been through an emotional time and he’d needed comfort, and Mondo had just been the nearest warm body. Doesn’t mean he trusts Mondo or that he wants anything from him at all. He’d have to be the world’s biggest fool to think Kiyotaka could ever want him, want him at all.

And Mondo... he may be a fool, but he ain’t that big of a fool.

Heart aching painfully in his chest, Mondo can’t help how he pulls away, not wanting to force Kiyotaka to be near him when he doesn’t deserve it, doesn’t deserve it at all.

“Shit, I was right, goddamn it, aw shit! J-just forget I said anything, I- fuck!”

Mondo hands come up to clutch at his hair, then, the grip tight and painful but he doesn’t care. He wants it to hurt. To ache. It’s what he deserves for fucking this whole thing up, for being so woefully unworthy of being close to such a bright and beautiful boy. Maybe, had he been better— a better person, a good person— he could have been worthy of it. Had he never let his insecurities get in the way, had he just accepted what he felt as true the minute he felt it, not pushed it away in fear, maybe... maybe then, he could have had this. Kiyotaka, as his friend. Kiyotaka, as his brother.

But no. No, no. He had pushed it away. Had been afraid of it, so very afraid. Had let his fear turn to anger, like he was so wont to do, and ruined everything before it even began.

He deserves all the misery he feels for how stupid he’d been...

Mondo gets jolted out of his thoughts when he feels a soft, tentative hand touch him, his eyes wide and manic as he looks at Kiyotaka, who looks so fucking afraid, god. H-he scares the kid so goddamn much, like he scares everyone, because he’s a monster, a senseless beast that only ever hurts people. Breaks people. He’s not allowed nice things, not allowed good things. Not allowed to be gentle, or soft, or kind. He... he’s just not...

To his utter shock, he can see Kiyotaka smile at him. It’s soft, and hesitant, and... and beautiful... but it can’t be real. It... the kid is trying to be kind, trying to hide his fear to make Mondo feel better, because he’s so goddamn nice, so fucking good, shit-

“N-no! Don’t worry! I was just- not expecting that! But I- I feel- the same. I feel- the same! I would be honored, Mondo Owada, to be considered your brother! I’ve never had a brother, never even had a friend, but I couldn’t imagine a better one than you! Y-you... you’re incredible...”

He... he... does he really mean that...? Does he truly... truly wanna be Mondo’s... Mondo’s brother? The kid is so bad at lying, and it hadn’t sounded like he was lying, but... but it... shit. It can’t be true, it can’t... after all the shit Mondo has done, how could the kid ever see him positively, even a little? Mondo isn’t a good brother, he’d always been so shit to Daiya, taking and taking and taking and never giving. He’d taken everything from Daiya, never satisfied with what Daiya gave freely, so he stole the most important thing in the end.

H-he’d just steal everything from Kiyotaka too.

It’s what he does...

“Ya can’t mean that, Kiyotaka... I’m a goddamn mess... and you... you are... shit. You’re goddamn perfect and I’m hot dog shit, ya can’t... y-you can’t...”

And it’s true. Mondo has more to say, more to confess, but his throat is so thick, and he doesn’t know how to say it. To confess all his crimes to Kiyotaka, to let him know how unworthy he is. He- he hears Kiyotaka take a deep breath, and he doesn’t wanna hear what the kid has to say, doesn’t wanna hear him agree, but then he’s speaking, and his words... t-they...

“Mondo... I- I’m not perfect. I... I’m not. B-but that’s okay! I do my best, but so do you! I can see how hard you try and sometimes that’s all that matters! You’re not... dog feces! You... you’re so much more, Mondo...”

No... n-no, the kid, he... he doesn’t understand, he just- he doesn’t understand! Mondo, he has to... has to tell him. N-not all of it, he’s not strong enough to confess it all, he’s always been so goddamn weak, but he- he has to... a little. Enough so the kid knows. So he stops feeling pity for him and realizes that he...

He’s just not worth it...

“No. N-no, I ain’t shit, goddamnit, I...” Mondo has to stop, feeling so fucking conflicted. On one hand he wants to confess, on the other hand he wants to be selfish, and he just... h-he just...

But he can’t. Be selfish. Not... not about this.

Not with Kiyotaka.

With a soft sigh, he feels the tension inside him melt away, his body relaxing with the decision he’s made. All of his emotions— both good and bad— fade away until all he feels inside is... is...

Cold resignation...

“I hate myself. Always fuckin’ have. Heh. There, I... I fuckin’ said it. I love the gang, don’t get me wrong. I love bein’ with ‘em, bein’ a part a’ somethin’ bigger than myself. I love leadin’ ‘em, ridin’ my hog, wind in my hair... I fuckin’ love it. Even bein’ here, unable ta lead directly, I still like callin’ the shots from behind the scenes while my second in command implements it an’ shit. Means somethin’, ‘least. But... I dunno. Sometimes I’ll be in the middle ofa fight and I’ll just... wanna stop. Quit. Do somethin’... do somethin’ else fer a change. But I… heh. I can’t. I promised my bro... Daiya, I... I promised him I’d keep the gang together. He built it from scratch an’ I... I can’t leave that. I made a promise, a man’s promise, ta keep us together. So, I... I gotta keep doin’ that. Can’t stop. Ever. Not ‘til the gang is dead an’ shit, all the members movin’ on ta do better shit with their lives. An’ me… heh. Not much use fer me after that, is there?”

Mondo pauses, and then looks down at his hands, a small, sad smile on his face.

“But you? Yer gonna go places, man. Shootin’ fer the moon. Prime fuckin’ Minister, shit, man. Never met anyone with such high goals, really. Never met anyone who wanted ta do that sorta shit, change things from the inside. Heard ya in class, talkin’ ‘bout yer plans an’ shit. Wantin’ ta make the world a better place, havin’ such hope for this garbage planet. Ya... ya’ve got drive. Determination. An’ I know yer gonna do it, ya know. Succeed. More than any a’ the other chucklefucks we go ta school with, ‘least. Yer just so... determined. Got such passion. I... I admire that ‘bout ya, always did.”

Mondo pauses again, and he… he laughs. It’s sad, and pathetic, and it... he... h-heh...

“But that… heh. That ain’t me, Kiyo. Ain’t me. I ain’t got plans, ain’t got any fuckin’ clue a’ what I’m gonna do after school ends. They got me takin’ fuckin’ leadership classes an’ shit, but the fuck am I gonna do with that bullshit? I can lead a gang, yeah, but that… heh. That’s ‘bout it, Christ. An’ ya… yer gonna see that one day. And yer gonna leave me. And I’ll be happy fer ya, ‘course I will, but... sh-shit. God... goddamnit...”

Mondo doesn’t know where he’s going with this. He doesn’t know what he’s saying or why he’s saying it. His head is so jumbled, so scrambled, and part of him wants to tell Kiyotaka everything. About his parents. About his brother. About what he did, what he stole. He wants to confess so, so badly, to see the hatred and anger and rage on that kid’s face when he realizes how big a piece of shit Mondo really is, horrified that he’d ever felt pity for such a pitiless creature.

But...

He can’t. Can’t do that. He... he can’t burden Kiyotaka with his bullshit. And knowing the kid... he’d still try. To feel pity. To feel sorrow. He- he’s such a good person, so bright and shining. He’s the kind of person who would see a merciless and dangerous monster like him and think there’s something worthwhile in it. It wouldn’t be until his neck is snapped under Mondo’s uncaring hand that he’d realize he was wrong. And maybe... maybe not even then. He’d die, thinking Mondo was better than he was, even if it were Mondo who killed him.

God...

So, he can’t tell the truth. Can’t burden the kid like that. But he... he can’t let him get close. Even if he... he really wants to...

“I’ll just hold ya back. Ya don’t want someone like me, Kiyo. Ya don’t want someone like me at all. So... I ‘ppreciate yer words. But it may be best ta leave this here. Ta... ta forget ‘bout this all and just... move on. I’ll leave ya alone and ya won’t hafta-”

“No!” Mondo hears echo through the room, cutting off his words so thoroughly. It startles the fuck out of him, and he can’t help how he stares, wide-eyed, up at Kiyotaka. It’s weird, looking up to see the kid, but he’s sitting upright, almost standing but not quite, knees firmly planted on the floor. But seeing as how Mondo is crumbled pathetically on the floor, sitting back on his thighs, he has to look up to see Kiyotaka. And he looks... looks so...

Scared...

But...

Not... not of- of... of Mondo...?

“Mondo, please! I just... look. I- I try to be perfect, but I... I’m not! And I know you aren’t either! But... but maybe that’s okay! Maybe... m-maybe... maybe we can learn to be not perfect... together? I, ah. I don’t know! A-all I know is... I want to be f-friends with you, Mondo Owada. I don’t care about your flaws; I don’t care that you’re in a gang! I just... I want... w-we can be brothers. If you want... we can be brothers. I want... I would want nothing more than to be your brother! Your kyoudai!”

Brothers. Brothers. Kiyotaka wants them to be... brothers...

It’s too good to be true. Too fucking good to be true. Mondo doesn’t get nice things like this. He doesn’t get soft, kind, gentle things. He gets shit. He gets cruelty. He gets anger and hatred and rage. He gets angry fists and cruel words, and a suspicious look on his back at all fucking times. After all the shit he has done, the people he has hurt, the lives he has ruined, he... he doesn’t deserve... he just doesn’t...

But as he sits there, staring up at Kiyotaka with wide eyes and an open mouth, he... he remembers something. Something the kid had said, in the sauna. How he... he never had a friend before. How everyone always hated him. And it could have just been insecurity talking, the kid thinking people hated him when they really didn’t but judging by the scars, he... he would doubt that.

He’s never had a friend. He’s never had a brother. Someone to keep him safe. To protect him from all harm. Someone to hold onto, someone to tell him it is alright. That he is alright. He... he hasn’t had that.

And Mondo is the worst choice for a brother. He knows it, okay? He’s so fucking awful it’s not funny. But... but he... the kid doesn’t seem to get that. And Mondo is too weak to explain why he shouldn’t want it. And, as such, he... Kiyotaka wants to be friends. Brothers. With him.

Mondo is a mess. He messes everything up, ruining everything he touches. He... he doesn’t want to ruin Kiyotaka too. He doesn’t want to hurt him. He... he never...

But maybe...

Maybe...

It’s stupid. God, so fucking stupid. But maybe... if he tries hard, so fucking hard... if he is careful, keeps his anger in check, does all he can, he... maybe he...

He can be Kiyotaka’s brother...

And keep him safe...

It makes him smile. It’s small at first, tentative. Like a stiff wind will blow it away. But as Kiyotaka keeps looking at him steadily, earnestly, he... he feels the smiles strengthen. Feels as it grows wider and wider, until it fills his whole face, his eyes squinting with how wide it is. He’s never felt like this before, so scared and terrified, but also... also...

Hopeful.

“Ya... ya really mean that, Kiyo?”

Kiyo. Mondo doesn’t really know why he’s calling the kid that, nicknames aren’t super common in their culture, but somehow, he... he kinda likes it. He doesn’t know if the kid does, he should ask, but before he has the chance to, the kid is nodding. Enthusiastic and bright, a shaky grin on his face. He still seems a little out of it, but god, is he trying... fuck that kid is so amazing...

“Yes! Of course! I always mean everything I say! I would not lie to you, Mondo, I promise you that! We shall be the best kyoudai! You’ll see! Aha! This is fantastic!”

Oh, god... this kid is so fucking cute! God... h-he really shouldn’t be thinking that, should push it away like he always pushes stupid ass thoughts like that away, but he... he’s allowed to see his brother as cute... right? Or, well... his little brother. Though... fuck. Is Kiyotaka younger than him? He seems like it, as naive and endlessly optimistic as he is, but fuck, he doesn’t actually know. Mondo is usually one of the youngest in his class, since his birthday is at the end of the year, but he’s always felt decades older than the chucklefucks he goes to school with. Maybe it’s ‘cuz he was forced to grow up so fucking fast in order to survive, shit.

But you know what? Whatever. It doesn’t matter if Mondo is older or not. He’s the older brother regardless. That shit is felt, not necessarily determined by birth order. Daiya was his older brother in more ways than just because he was physically older, after all.

At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that... that Kiyotaka wants this. Wants... wants Mondo. And Mondo doesn’t deserve it, had never deserved it, but fuck, is he a selfish bastard. But he won’t take this shit for granted. Now that they are brothers, Mondo will go all fucking out. No fucking reservations. They are brothers, now, and Mondo is the big brother. The ani. It’s his duty and obligation to keep Kiyotaka safe from all harm, including (and especially) from Mondo himself. And he won’t. Hurt him. Not now, not ever. If he ever does, he will stab himself in the gut, commit fucking seppuku, he swears he will. He’d rather die than hurt this precious, amazing, incredible boy ever, ever again.

And so, Mondo grins, and he laughs, and he lets his arms reach forward and wrap around the kid, like he’s been wanting to do since he ripped himself away the last time. Part of him is afraid the kid won’t want it, or he’ll realize how stupid this whole thing is, but Kiyotaka doesn’t even tense at all as he goes willingly into Mondo’s arms, melting like warm putty against him. Like he... he belongs there...

S-shit...

“Okay. O-okay. Kiyotaka, I... I’ll do my best. I can’t promise ya anythin’, know I’m a goddamn fuck-up who ruins everything, but... but for you? I’ll try. That... that’s all I can offer... heh…”

It’s not enough, not nearly enough, but he feels Kiyotaka wrap his arms around him, holding on so very, very tight, and it... it feels...

Like coming home...

“That is all I could ever ask of you, my kyoudai! Y-you’re not a- a screw up! And- and your best is more than enough!”

Shit. Shit. No one... no one has ever told him that before. That the best he offers is more than enough. It’s never been enough, he’s never been enough. He’s a screw up. The unwanted kid. The person who is good for violence and anger and rage, and that’s about it.

But here, being held by this remarkable fucking kid... hearing him say that it’s enough... that he’s enough…

Maybe he’s inclined to believe him.

Wow... just...

Wow...

After a minute Mondo pulls back, knowing they need to talk about stuff, knowing he has to make promises, and it makes his heart sing when he feels the kid resist, arms refusing to let go at first. It makes him laugh softly, especially because he fully understands. But he doesn’t intend to go far. Just... he needs to look the kid in the eyes. He... he needs to see those beautiful as sin eyes...

Pressing his forehead to Kiyotaka’s, soft and gentle and intimate, he can’t help how he smiles, eyes shining with the light he feels inside. And Kiyotaka... he...

He looks at Mondo like he fucking matters...

“I’ll be good. Fer ya... I’ll be good. Promise, Kiyo. And ya can hold me ta that, got it? This is a promise between men. That means I gotta keep it.”

The kid looks stunned, eyes glazed but not in a bad way, breath hitched, and it... it makes Mondo feel...

“Likewise! I- I will do everything I can to be the best brother I can be! I promise! We shall be the best kyoudai in the world! That’s a Kiyotaka Ishimaru guarantee!”

The enthusiastic words make Mondo laugh again, and he pulls away to wrap an arm around the kid’s shoulders, ruffling his hair gently like Daiya would always do to him. He notices that the hair is a bit longer than it once had been, and fuck, does he like it. The sweat from the sauna had made all the gel run out and his hair is now soft as it dries, curling lightly around the kid’s ears and it just...

It’s so beautiful...

But ruffling the kid’s hair makes it fall in his eyes, which makes the kid let out an annoyed sound, adorable again, and Mondo can’t help the way he laughs. God, this kid makes him so goddamn happy... he’s never felt this happy before... never...

“Yer the absolute, goddamn best, kyoudai. Kiyo. Hey, uh... is it okay if I call ya that? Kiyotaka’s just a bit of a mouthful, ‘sall. Ya got any other nicknames I could use?”

He looks at the kid at that, Kiyotaka’s (or should he say Kiyo? Does the kid like it? Shit...) mouth pulled down in a thoughtful frown. A moment passes, and then-

“A-ah! Kiyo is fine! If you’d like! B-but... well... m-my mother. She called me... Taka. Y-you could use that, as well! If you’d like...”

Taka, huh? Taka. Taka. Yeah... yeah, he- he likes it. He likes it a lot! It suits the kid, and while Mondo still does kinda like Kiyo, he might like Taka a bit better. And if the kid wants him to call him that, then shit... who is he to deny him...?

Smiling, soft and gentle in a way he’s never been able to be before, he nods.

“Taka... heh, I like it! Alright, Taka. Mondo ain’t exactly got any good nicknames fer it, but ya can call me that, if ya’d like.”

Mondo watches as Taka blushes lightly, lips still partially open as he breathes in and out slowly. His eyes are kinda glazed still, but he seems present enough. Just... like he’s thinking of something. Mondo wants to reach out, wants to pull the kid into a hug again, wants to always, always be touching him, but he keeps his distance. Just... just for now. But later...

The kid shoots up again, interrupting Mondo’s thoughts, looking so enthusiastic again, eyes bright and smile happy. Holy shit...

“Oh! I can always call you kyoudai!! That way the whole world will know our manly bond!”

It makes Mondo laugh again, harder, and he can’t help how he reaches out to ruffle his hair again, needing to touch him at least a little. Kyoudai, huh? ... yeah. Yeah, he likes that, too. Daiya was always ani to him, the proper name for the big brother, and Daiya usually called him shit like ‘kid’ or whatever, so it’s not like Taka calling him that will bring up any bad memories or shit. It’s just... something for them. Their own, little thing, for them and no one else.

Him and Taka. Taka and him. Two... two kyoudai...

Incredible...

“Alright, Taka. If ya’d like. Now, it’s fuckin’ late. I ain’t even gotta look at a clock ta know that. Come on, kyoudai. Let’s get ya ta bed.”

Mondo stands, then, realizing how fucking late it is. The kid always gets up stupidly early, he remembers Taka saying that once a little while ago, so he knows they should be heading to bed soon. He feels strangely reluctant to do that, never wanting to part from this beautiful boy, but- but he’s the big brother. He has to keep his little brother safe and healthy, and that includes ensuring he gets a good night’s sleep. Even if it means they have to part ways...

As Mondo stretches, he sees Taka stand as well, his body flushing bright red as he looks down at himself and seems to notice his state of undress. Like he’d forgotten or something. Mondo hadn’t. Not... not for a single second. Shit...

He feels his eyes dart down to the kid’s chest, unbidden, and he feels the small smile die on his lips as he sees the long, jagged looking scar that goes from Taka’s collarbone to the bottom of his sternum, right over his heart. How... how the fuck did he get a scar like that...? It doesn’t look like one that would come from surgery or something, since it’s too jagged, and it also doesn’t look accidental. But... but how the fuck...

“How’d ya get that? The... the scar?” Mondo finds himself asking softly before he can stop himself, his hand rising absently to trace the length of it. Fuck, but it feels as jagged as it looks... angry and painful. H-he hopes it doesn’t hurt anymore...

“A-ah... that...” Taka mutters, his body flushing. It jolts Mondo out of the fucking fugue he entered, and he removes his hand quickly, feeling embarrassed. S-shit... he shouldn’t have asked that, it ain’t his fucking business. Yeah, they’re kyoudai, but that... that don’t mean he’s earned the right to hear the kid’s dark history. He still has to earn that shit. He knows that.

“Aw, shit! Taka, ignore me. Y’ain’t gotta talk ‘bout that shit. Uh, shi-shoot, I mean... stuff? Sorry… heh, know ya hate swearin’ an’ sh- stuff. Heh…”

Taka blinks at Mondo’s rambling words, which makes him feel strangely nervous. He doesn’t let it take over him, though. Doesn’t let himself get angry. But strangely... the anger he usually feels when embarrassed or nervous just... never showed up in the first place. Huh...

He watches, then, heart clenching, as Taka smiles at him, soft and gentle as ever. F-fuck...

“I... I don’t mind! It’s not exactly a pleasant story, but I trust you, kyoudai! And... I don’t mind you cursing! Much! It... it’s what makes you, you! Just as long as you don’t do it in class or in the halls!”

He... doesn’t mind him... cursing...???? After all those warnings, all of those detention slips, he truly expects Mondo to believe he doesn’t mind it when Mondo fucking curses?

But... huh. He can’t detect a lie in the kid’s words. He looks as earnest as ever, and it just... god. Mondo can’t begin to describe how he feels right now, just that it feels... soft.

Taka... Taka makes him feel soft. And fuck, is it not bad... not bad at all...

Unsure of what to say, what to do, Mondo just laughs again, since that’s the only thing that even slightly manages to express the softness that he feels inside, and he smiles at the kid gently while nodding. He should feel stupid, ridiculous, but he just... doesn’t.

God...

He watches then as Taka walks over to the locker he’d used earlier, seeming to want to no longer be partially nude. Mondo doesn’t mind it, has never minded being around naked dudes, but he guesses not everyone can be like that. As the kid dresses, he starts to talk. And the story he tells...

“It was one of my middle school bullies. I, er... wasn’t well liked, as a child! They never liked how I would get them in trouble, not to mention... ah. M-my, well. My grandfather,” Taka mutters, voice turning nervous as he talks about his grandfather, glancing at him anxiously.

Mondo still isn’t entirely sure what the kid’s deal with his grandfather is, but he can tell it bothers the kid, shit, so he does his best to not look at all judgmental, even though the fact the kid was fucking bullied makes his blood fucking boil... shit. He’d expected it, honestly, but it still fucking angers the fuck out of him, Christ…

Luckily, it seems his anger at that isn’t too obvious, since the kid continues then, voice less shaky and upset, even though the shit he says...

“One day, one of them was... particularly angry. I’d gotten him suspended, you see, for a week. It was his own fault, he was the one who had scratched profanities into the headmaster’s car, I’d just been the one to report it! Still, he was... angry. So, after school, he had his friends hold me down while he cut this into my chest. A reminder, he said, to mind my own business. I think he was going to do more but was interrupted by something. It was most unpleasant!”

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Holy shit, holy shit!

What the goddamn shit?!

Some goddamn motherfucker... carved that shit into Taka’s chest...?! And how the fuck can Taka sound so casual about it?! Mondo has never felt so much rage directed towards someone he’s never met, but holy fucking shit, that goddamn bastard had better hope Mondo never meets him, or else he is fucking dead. The thought that anyone could ever hurt this wonderful boy in such a way is just so... insane to Mondo. How people can see him and not want to keep him safe from all harm is just... he doesn’t get it. Even when he told himself he hated the kid, he couldn’t bear the thought of actually hurting him. Not really.

And Taka he... he looks so fucking sad, right now. But also, just... resigned. Like he expects that treatment and, while it sucks, it’s just... life. Which is so much fucking bullshit, holy fucking shit-

Mondo unintentionally lets out a strangled noise, his anger and rage choking him inside. He sees the kid look up at him and sees panic rise in his face when he sees the anger Mondo so clearly feels. Oh, shit... shit, he’s not mad at Taka, he’s not at all, but he can’t make the anger go away, because... because...

“They fuckin’ what?! What the goddamn shit?! Please tell me ya got those fuckers expelled!”

He had to have... right? Taka is so gung-ho about rules and shit, he- he must have told on those fuckers and got all of them expelled... r-right?

Wrong...

“A-ah! N-not exactly! I... I never reported them! I rarely ever did, to tell the truth... it wouldn’t have mattered, see! The teachers didn’t like me much either; they only ever believed me if I had proof, and even then, only half the time! And they never much cared when I got hurt... b-but it was okay! I persisted and never let them break me down! My struggles made me stronger! Aha!”

W... what? He... he... oh, oh god... n-no...

“Y-you... what?” Mondo whispers, his eyebrows furrowed, his hands shaking. He has never felt so horrified before, a terrifying realization overcoming him. Because he... he was right, wasn’t he? This kid... h-he was abused. Horribly so.

By literally fucking everyone, holy fucking shit-!

“I mean... that’s just... how it was? I handled it, though! I never gave up! They... they did not break me!”

Oh. Oh. Oh, this... this poor fucking kid... his poor fucking kyoudai, having to go through that nightmare, actually believing that it was just... normal. Just... how it was. But he... he can’t actually... actually believe he deserved it... r-right...?

“Goddamnit... that’s why ya keep tellin’ me ta... ta punish ya, ain’t it? Taka, please tell me ya don’t actu’ly think ya deserved that shit?”

He can’t. He can’t. Please, god, he... he can’t...

Mondo watches, heart breaking so thoroughly inside his chest, as Taka looks down at his uniform jacket, the only piece of his get up he’s not yet wearing. He’s frowning gently, like he actually has to fucking think about it, oh god, no...

“I- I... I suppose so... I mean-! I... I don’t know. They all hated me... s-so... they must have had a good reason... r-right? To... to hate me. I... I must have deserved it... right?”

No. No. No. Mondo... he can’t fucking handle this shit. So many things make so much sense now, and he has never hated himself more. For not seeing it sooner. For not allowing himself to care about this boy all along. For maybe even reenforcing this goddamn bullshit, making the kid think he is right, when he sure as shit ain’t. He...

He can’t help how he moves. Swift and quick. He- he just needs to be near the kid, needs to hold him, reassure him that no, he didn’t. Didn’t at all. He needs to do what he should have done weeks ago, in the laundry room, and reassure that kid that no. He doesn’t deserve to be hurt. Not... not ever...

He stops, though, when he sees Taka look up at him, terror in his eyes, like he... he thinks Mondo is going to fucking hurt him. He wants to go forward, wants to hold the kid so fucking bad, but he doesn’t have that fucking right, so he stays where he is, all the sorrow he feels surely reflected in his eyes. And as the kid looks at him, he... he relaxes. He still looks upset, but he doesn’t look scared. That... that’s something...

Right?

“No. Fuckin’ no. Y’ain’t deserved any a’ that shit, goddamn, man… and I promise ya, Taka, I’m gonna make sure ya see that one day, even if it takes the rest a’ my goddamn life. And that’s a man’s promise.”

And he means it, fuck does he mean it. He had never meant anything more. He will spend the rest of his goddamn life ensuring that this wonderful kid knows how special and amazing he is, and that he never, ever deserves to be hurt. It’s his life’s fucking goal now, the one thing that fucking matters. He will take care of Taka for the rest of his goddamn life, even after the kid finally wises up and leaves his ass. He will watch from the shadows, keeping a careful eye on him, there to keep him safe from all harm. This kid will never know pain again if it’s the last fucking thing Mondo does. He swears.

As the kid looks at him, he sees the softest and most beautiful smile he’s ever seen lighting up the boy’s face. His eyes sparkle with it, and he’s looking at Mondo like he’s important again. Like he... like he matters. And Mondo...

He won’t ruin this shit. He just... he won’t.

This matters too goddamn much for him to let it slip away.

“T-thank you... thank you, kyoudai. I... thank you.”

Mondo smiles gently at the kid, moving forward to tentatively wrap an arm around his shoulder, squeezing gently, needing to touch him but not wanting to overwhelm him, god.

“Ain’t gotta thank me, bro. Now, we really should head ta bed. Got school tomorrow an’ I don’t want my bro ta be tired! Come on, kyoudai. Let’s get goin’.”

Taka nods quick and puts his jacket on, buttoning it with practiced fingers. The kid turns back to the locker, frowning gently at whatever he sees inside. Mondo watches as the kid reaches out and grabs it, his breath hitching when he sees the kid is holding the glasses case that started this whole fucking mess. He... he honestly had forgotten about that shit, to tell the truth, with all the drama that just occurred. But as he looks at the kid, who is looking so softly at the glasses case, like they’re precious to him, he... he knows he owes the kid for the shit he put him through earlier, for no fucking reason. He can’t quite find it in him to regret what happened, not when it ended up like this, but he... he has to make it up to the kid. All of it.

So, quick as a wink, Mondo darts his hand out and carefully takes the case from Taka, ignoring the startled sound the kid makes. He can feel the kid watching him with wide eyes, but he doesn’t let it stop him as he opens the case and— without a single moment’s pause— puts the glasses on his face, blinking at the foreign feel. It... it hasn’t changed his vision much, since this shit is only supposed to help with close up shit, but it... huh. He guesses it ain’t so bad...

“Huh... I guess they ain’t that bad... tell me, kyoudai. How do they look?”

He hadn’t really meant to ask the question, but he just... couldn’t help but remember the shit he’d done the last time he’d worn the glasses and Taka had told him what he thought. He... maybe he wants to show that it’s different, now. That he won’t get angry, not this time. To prove that he will never hurt Taka, never again. Not... not ever again.

He watches as the kid flushes bright red, mouth open slightly again, and- and god, is it an attractive look on him... s-shit... and then the kid is smiling shakily, giving a shaky thumbs up, and that’s even... even worse... or better, heh...

“You look amazing, kyoudai! They suit you well!”

A-amazing, huh? Shit... no one’s ever said he looks amazing before... he’s had a couple of people call him hot, or even sexy once or twice, but never... never amazing...

He adores it... adores... Taka...

It makes him smile again. Soft. Happy. So goddamn happy... he will never be able to repay Taka for the happiness he gives him... not even if he dedicates the rest of his life to trying. Which he will. He... he will...

But it’s late. So fucking late. They... they need to get to bed...

Even if Mondo never wants to part from this amazing kid...

“Ah, cool. I guess. Now, c’mon! Bed! Ain’t gonna be the reason ya can’t focus in class tomorrow, ya nerd!”

With that, Mondo turns to grab his duster off the bench he’d tossed it on earlier, shrugging it on carefully, before finally exiting the bathhouse, Taka on his heels.

Shit...

#The Problem with Mondo preview #Mondo Owada #Mondo's POV #Kiyotaka Ishimaru #Danganronpa #Danganronpa fanfiction #My fanfic #Ha hope y'all liked it #:-)

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everythingsinred · 3 years

Text

Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 20)

PART TWENTY! I've written thousands and thousands of words about this particular character's love. That's really crazy. And you guys read thousands and thousands of words! And we're not even done yet!

We will talk about the second half of this "gap arc", including one of my favorite chapters, and then the school will turn upside down, as we will see in the next part.

Chapter Ninety-Three

Mikan was so exhausted saving Narumi from Persona’s alice that she ended up hospitalized. Nobody else seems to know much of what really happened except Natsume, who spends so much time in the hospital these days that it would have been more surprising if he didn’t know she was there too.

Besides, Natsume knows so much about Mikan. He knows about her mom and that the ESP is interested in Mikan possibly possessing the stealing alice. He knows that she’s in danger. He’s vigilant, as I’ve said, and this vigilance means absorbing all possible information. He overhears Narumi warning Mikan to keep her new alice a secret, and Natsume gets confirmation that Mikan does indeed have the stealing alice, that Narumi knows and wants to protect Mikan too, and that this information could possibly get to the ESP if they’re not careful.

Dead man walking. Or rather... dead boy walking.

He walks away from her room, unseen, coughing. He walks down a hall of doctors and patients and nurses and he doesn’t stand out at all. Natsume’s presence in the hospital is so normal that nobody bats an eye anymore. Kaname is hospitalized for long stretches of time, as we shall continue to see, but Natsume merely goes to the hospital for limited periods of bed rest and for getting huge bags of medicine to take before bed so he doesn’t accidentally pass away in his sleep. Natsume might be in just as much need as Kaname for long periods of hospitalization, but he can’t for two reasons.

One, the school absolutely does not want that. They want their favorite child soldier to be always at the ready. He can’t be at their beck and call at all times if he’s cooped up in a hospital bed. He needs to be where they can grab him easily, and pumping him full of medicine and pretending that’s enough for him is the most they will do.

Two, Natsume absolutely does not want that. Mikan is in more danger than ever, and being sequestered in a hospital without seeing anyone leaves her alone and unprotected. How is he supposed to spy on the ESP and Persona for information on Mikan if he’s hospitalized? He needs to be free as a bird, just like they want him to be, so that he can be at Mikan’s beck and call. At the slightest threat, he will be there for her.

Later, when Bear follows Mikan around while Kaname is sicker than ever, Koko can discern that Bear wants Mikan to steal Kaname’s alice from inside of him. Many people are onlooking, and Natsume has a shocked expression, not because he didn’t know that Mikan has the stealing alice, but because he’s concerned for what consequences may come if more people find out. If the ESP comes to hear any of this, serious issues will arise. Things are already dangerous enough, but if the ESP finds out, then turmoil will come sooner than later.

This is an "Oh, shit" moment! How terrible.

Things get worse when the rumors about Mikan’s alice spread through the upper divisions. Mikan gets chased by upperclassmen who want her to steal their alices because they think their star rank will go up if they can catch her in the act. The ESP seems to have purposefully spread such a rumor in order to speed things along. He wants to push Mikan into a corner, perhaps force her into using her alice and exposing herself, so that he has an excuse to swoop in and take her into his custody.

We see a panel of Natsume hearing the news of the middle schoolers’ pursuit of Mikan and he’s just as shocked as before. Her life is endlessly hectic in the worst way. She is always under attack from rumors and speculation and being honest about her alice will only end poorly for her. This is the last glimpse we get of him this chapter, but his reactions, despite the fact that he says nothing this whole time, is enough to give hints to where his mind is right now. His priorities and concerns are all made clear, building up to when he will eventually be quite needed.

Chapter Ninety-Four

Class B is getting ready for swimming lessons in P.E. Most of the class, especially Mikan, are excited for this.

There’s not much Natsume in this chapter either, but we can see him on the poolside, obviously not well enough to swim. Swimming is one of the most physically taxing exercises because of how much it requires you to use your full body. Natsume can’t waste what little energy he has on P.E. when he has missions to do. Those are much more important.

Mikan may get occasionally down or sad about her alice and the uncomfortable state of things, but Ruka is there to cheer her up and play water polo with her. Natsume simply looks on.

Tsubasa spots him, and instantly looks troubled. He and Natsume are not just both in the DA class now, they’re also going on many of the same missions. He’s also the only one who knows the truth about Natsume’s alice shape, and how much the taxing missions affect his body. Seeing Natsume sit on the side and not join in with the others is not a good sign. He’s not doing well.

Fun and games are over! It was never gonna last long anyway!

The panel of everyone having fun while Natsume coughs by himself, isolated from everyone, brings to mind the page from Chapter Nine, so long ago. The last page of that chapter has Natsume being sent on a mission, in stark contrast to the final panel of the rest of the class having fun and bonding over dodgeball.

He could never join in for long was the message we got then, and it’s not any less true now. Natsume let himself get attached to Class B and to Mikan in particular but his fun happy times of joining in on the fun were never meant to last. He can’t play the sax anymore. He can’t run around with the rest of them. Luna was a warning to him as much as she was to Mikan. His time is running out and his life will always be too different from the rest of theirs. He will always be shrouded in darkness and an imminent death. They can take occasional breaks from the stress and worry of their lives, but he can’t. Not anymore. Not in any real way. Not without it taking a serious toll on his body.

The last page features two groups of best friends: Natsume and Ruka looking out the window at Hotaru and Mikan as they walk through the rain.

Bad things are going to happen. And that right soon.

There’s a feeling of foreboding in this arc. The last page carries some threat with it while also trying to stay on the side of hope. One should not take things for granted is the main take-away, a harsh lesson for these kids to learn, especially in this way.

These few chapters between the Sports Fest and the next arc are almost similar to the gap chapters between the Hana Hime den chapters and the Sports Fest. They are a much needed respite from the heavy chapters before and after. The difference is that these gap chapters are heavier and there’s a threat looming over Mikan and the others in each one. The happiness and lightness of the Valentine’s day chapter are not present, even in this sweet chapter about swimming. Everyone is unsettled and disturbed, aware that something horrible is to come.

Chapter Ninety-Five

And nothing good ever lasts, as this chapter reveals. The tension that has been building for so long is starting to reach a boiling point.

A lot will happen here. Hotaru gets called to the headquarters. Yuka returns to the Alice Academy campus to find Mikan. Tsubasa goes missing.

God, could they stop sending children to get blown up for FIVE MINUTES?!

Natsume and Tsubasa are separated during a nondescript mission. A warehouse explodes and Natsume screams out for Tsubasa, not knowing where he’s disappeared to, or if he’s even still alive.

Tsubasa is missing, his location unknown. Natsume has returned to campus from the mission, but he hasn’t been seen by anybody yet either. He’s busy trying to locate Tsubasa, trying to find information.

Natsume goes on missions all the time. He goes with other DA types and is frequently in life or death situations with them. That being said, he hates most of his classmates, Youichi being one exception. But Tsubasa is different. They have an unspoken respect for each other, and might even be considered friends. They spent a lot of time in the DA class on missions that we haven’t seen in the manga and their work to find--or rather not find--Yuka and protect Mikan has probably brought them closer.

Natsume wants to find Tsubasa because he’s so important to Mikan, because she loves him like a big brother and losing him would break her. He wants to find Tsubasa because Tsubasa is his friend too. If something happened to him on a mission they went on together, then it’s his responsibility to bring him back, and he might even feel guilty for his disappearance as well. Knowing what we do about Natsume’s self-esteem, martyr complex, and tendency to blame himself for everything, he is probably not taking this very well.

It’s exciting and nerve-wracking to see so many people involved in this chapter, but seeing as everything’s coming to a head, many of the characters narratively have to be involved.

Nobara, who discovers that Narumi plans to run away with Mikan to keep her safe from what’s to come, is soon after made aware that she will be blessed with a friend in the DA class: Mikan. Nobara and Natsume do not get along, but so far she’s been diligent in communicating with him about information she discovers that he would not otherwise find out. There’s no way she wouldn’t try to reach out to him, which explains why he knows about it.

Natsume has been mainly absent from the chapter, and from school as well. Nobody has seen him, because he’s too busy trying to find Tsubasa. But it’s nighttime now and everyone is going to sleep. The rumors about Tsubasa’s disappearance are all around the school and he knows that Mikan knows by now. And she’s all alone.

So he takes a break from all the work he has to do to go and comfort her. He cannot leave her alone, even if he originally planned on it.

He appears in her window and she rushes to him. She asks him questions, about where he’s been and all those wounds on his body, but he didn’t come here to talk about what happened to him. He’s here for her. He confesses that he hadn’t wanted to see anyone until he’d found Tsubasa safe and sound, but he had to see her, fearing that she was crying on her own.

They're both sad. They're each other's comfort.

Natsume knows Mikan, that she frequently acts fine even if she’s suffering. Her resilience and determination are great traits, and it’s easy to get lost in the illusion that she should always be bubbly and optimistic and smiling, but even a girl like Mikan needs to let it out sometimes. Finding out that someone you love is missing is not easy, and smiling in the face of that is not something that even Mikan can do all the time. She needs comfort, and Natsume wants to be there for her.

He’s wanted this the whole time, deep down, to be someone she could rely on, someone who could comfort her, and now he’s the only one who can. All the things he’s wanted to do for her this whole time: to comfort her, to tell her it’ll be okay, to hug her. He does it all because after all they’ve been together, she knows now that he’s someone she can rely on.

She’s crying, and she admits that she couldn’t stop even if she wanted to, because she has to cry in Natsume’s place.

Natsume came to comfort her, yes, but he’s been through a lot too. He also cares about Tsubasa and has been suffering on his own for even longer. He also needs comfort, and because he won’t let himself cry, she’ll do it for him. Mikan can see that he can’t afford to not be perfectly composed all the time. She’s thinking of him, too, and it must be nice to be seen so clearly by somebody he loves.

She knows that he's close to Tsubasa too, even if he won't admit it. THEY'RE EACH OTHER'S COMFORT.

He tells her he will find Tsubasa, and “about her too”, which means he’s letting her know he’s taking care of her. He will keep an eye out and try to keep her safe. He’s hinting that he knows about her other alice, and that he’s on top of it. He has to go now, but his farewell--his promise--is his final way of comforting her for the night. She doesn’t need to worry too much about Tsubasa or what will happen with the school, because he will fix it all. He will protect her.

Conclusion

There's something looming over the kids at the academy. Something really bad is going to happen, and everyone seems somewhat aware at this point. Natsume is at the ready for the slightest threat to Mikan, and he will finally be able to spring into action in the next edition of this already-too-long essay.

So... This is the twentieth part. If I'm to guess, I'd say there's not going to be another ten parts to make it to thirty, but I might be wrong, depending on how long my analysis gets in the last parts of the manga. As I post this, I'm about fifty chapters ahead (which sounds impressive but actually isn't considering the Time Travel Arc has groups of entire chapters that I had to skip). Maybe it'll get to something like twenty-eight but I'm not sure about thirty. We'll see. Once upon a time I thought it'd be forty, even! No, not Natsume's. Mikan's, maybe, but not Natsume's.

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yikesharringrove · 3 years

Text

Me and my thots

Read on ao3

Billy didn’t black out when the first limb clamped onto his side.

He figured he would.

Figured the searing pain would cause his brain to short.

But it didn’t.

He didn’t even drop when the next one hit, chomping into his other side.

He figures the adrenaline was keeping him going.

And probably the other-worldly strength from whatever bits of the creature was left in him.

All he knows is that the final one pierced his chest.

And he didn’t lose consciousness.

Not as he fell.

Not as Max hovered over him.

Not as he heard shouts, and felt hands pressing into his wounds.

He woke with a start.

He shook the dream out of his head, rolling to press both fists into his eyes.

He slid out from under the thick duvet, pulling it up and over the sleeping form of the person next to him.

Like he did every morning.

He scratched his chest, making his way over to their sunny little kitchen, getting the coffee going.

It’s been a while since he’s dreamed about the Mind Flayer.

In his thirty years since that night at the mall, he’s gotten enough therapy to break most of it down, to accept what happened to him, what he was forced without question to do.

He startled as arms slipped around his waist.

“You okay?”

Steve’s voice was sleep groggy, his chin hooked over Billy’s shoulder.

“Yeah, Pretty Boy. I’m alright.”

Steve placed his hand over the faded scar on Billy’s chest, kissing his shoulder blade once.

Billy turned to look at him, taking in the sparse grey hairs Steve liked to complain about, the soft lines near his eyes.

Billy sucked in a gasp of air when he woke, spluttering as his lungs burned.

He was in the hospital, his heart monitor going haywire.

Nurses flooded the room, but Billy paid them no mind, his eyes locking on the big brown ones.

Steve had pushed himself against the wall, giving the nurses room to check him over.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been since the mall, just knows hat Steve’s face looks hurt, old bruises turning yellow and green as they healed.

He was stabilized, and he felt more steady. His breathing still hurt, but he was doing it on his own.

The few nurses made their way out once again.

“Jesus, Hargrove. Scared me half to death.” Steve didn’t sound scared. He sounded relieved. “I was almost asleep and then you took this giant breath, Christ.”

Steve’s hands were shaking as he lowered himself into a plastic chair facing Billy’s bed.

“Sorry.”

Billy’s voice was hoarse, and it hurt to talk.

“How long-?”

“A few weeks.” Then Steve’s face got hurt that same night.

It was odd looking at him.

He looked so young, not the face dream Billy was used to, the face of a grown man.

“Hargrove, you okay?”

And echo of that dream.

And boy did that hurt, the realization that it was a dream.

His idyllic life with Steve.

Nothing but his subconscious. Probably creating something to keep him calm while his body healed in a coma.

“Why you here?” Speaking still burned his throat. He wished he had some water.

Maybe even tea.

Steve usually makes him a nice chamomile tea when he’s sick. Puts some fresh lemon juice and honey in there. They have a lemon tea in the backyard.

He shook himself.

That was just a dream.

“Been worried about you, man.” Steve wasn’t looking at him.

Steve has trouble with eye contact.

Years spent with a father that forced it only to berate Steve for-

What the fuck. His daydream kept bleeding over, giving him all this nonsense about the dream version of Steve he had conjured up.

“Don’t know why.”

Steve looked at him then.

“Really pulled some shit, didn’t I?”

“That doesn’t mean you, you deserve to die, or something. You weren’t in control.”

“Was that night I beat your face in.”

Steve looked away again.

“Water under the bridge.”

Steve once told him he doesn’t know what that expression means, just that he’s heard people use it in situations like this.

“You don’t even know what that means.” Billy couldn’t stop himself.

He just blurted it out.

And Steve gave him a funny look.

Because of course he does. Because this Steve, this real Steve is different than the coma fantasy one Billy conjured up.

“Well, no. But people usually say it like that, don’t they?”

And Billy just stared at him.

And then his vision went hazy around the edges, and he slipped back into darkness.

“Which one?”

Steve was holding up two pairs of swim trunks. Billy was just staring at his ass.

“You know I like those little green ones.”

Steve threw him a look over his shoulder.

“I don’t think the green ones even fit anymore.”

Steve sometimes got self conscious about himself. His thighs had thickened up considerably, his ass getting plumper too. And his belly was soft, doughy, and perfect for squishing.

But the green shorts fit, even though they were tight.

And Billy loved his older body, loved when Steve put on some extra fluff. A chubby Steve meant a happy Steve. And Billy would know.

You learn a lot about a person in thirty-some years.

Steve was dressed now, shouldering a bag.

“Beach time?” His eyes were bright.

“Beach time.”

They held hands as they walked.

The air smelled like ocean spray.

The beach was close to their little house, and they found their usual spot right away, far from any other beach patrons.

“Hargrove!”

Billy came to with a start, back in the cold hospital room, back with a younger Steve.

What the fuck was going on?

“Sorry, you kinda passed out. I thought you were slipping back under, or something.”

Steve looked sheepish.

“It’s fine.”

It wasn’t. Not totally.

Because Billy wanted to live in that fucking daydream for the rest of his goddamn life.

“Sorry, I should let you sleep. I mean you’re probably exhausted.” Steve stood up, gathering the few things he had with him, a water bottle, and empty coffee cup, and a book. An old worn out copy of The Outsiders.

That’s dream Steve’s favorite book. He reads it once every year. He said it was the first book he ever read in class that actually gripped him. The only one he actually took the time to push through his rampant dyslexia to read and understand.

He won’t be diagnosed dyslexic until he’s 23. He’ll feel really vindicated and Billy will take him out for a fancy dinner. They’ll go skinny dipping in the ocean after and Steve will whine the whole time.

Billy hadn’t realized he had been staring at Steve the whole time that all ran through his brain, not until Steve snapped his fingers in front of him.

“Billy!”

“Yeah, what? Sorry.”

“Are you okay? Should I get a nurse?”

“No, I just-” he tried to scrub a hand down his face, found his muscles screamed out at the movement of his muscles after who knows how long in that bed.

It didn’t matter anyway, as his hands were wrapped up in a mitten of bandages.

“Was havin’ a good dream.”

“What was it about?”

Billy couldn’t look at Steve. Couldn’t look at those big brown eyes, couldn’t search for the specks of gold, the streaks of green that he knows are there.

“Future. Dream future, I guess.”

“Do you-” Steve hesitated, and Billy finally looked at him, watched as he reached up to tug on a lock of hair near the crown of his head. A nervous tick he’s had since he was a kid. “Do you wanna share?”

“California. Little house by the beach. Slice of Heaven, really.”

“A wife?”

“Been married for a few years.”

“She pretty?”

“The prettiest.”

Steve smiled at him softly.

“Sorry you had to wake up to me, then.”

And that? That made Billy wanna tear out his own damn hair. Made him wanna pull Steve to lay on top of him the way they both like, pet through Steve’s hair, tell him how goddamn perfect you are, Sugar.

“It’s okay. Prefer your company.”

“I guess I’m alright if the alternative is being alone.”

“Cut that out.”

Steve blinked at him.

“We’ve been talking like, five minutes and all you’ve done is apologize and talk shit on yourself.”

“Sorry, I- it’s just a habit, I guess.” He was back to playing with his hair. Being a little rougher, tugging on the lock between his fingers a bit. Billy sighed as well as he could with his burning lungs.

“Just, I like it that you’re here, okay? I’d tell you to beat it if I wanted you gone.”

And Steve smiled at him.

One of his six real smiles, not one of the eleven fake ones.

Billy can tell.

Because the real ones make his nose scrunch a bit. They make his eyes go bright and his shoulders bunch up.

And he must’ve fallen back into that dream again, because suddenly he was looking at his Steve, his grown up Steve, giving him that exact same real smile as Billy ran wet fingers over his skin.

And he pulled Steve close to him in the shower, mouthing at the skin of his neck.

And if this was a dream, he was going to burn all of this into his memory.

The way Steve’s skin tastes, the way he gasps when Billy nibbles at his ear. The way Billy feels buried deep inside him, in the soft bed that they share, the one that took months to buy because Steve is weirdly picky about bedframes for no discernible reason.

And just as he was watching Steve’s face crumple, as he was trying to memorize the exact noises he makes as he cums, he was jolted out of his dream by the real Steve, fucking sneezing.

“Sorry.” He looked distressed. “You were like, really asleep and I, I tried to hold it back.”

“’S okay. Know you got that dust thing.”

Billy was drowsy. He felt like he was inches underwater, everything moving slowly around him. Almost like the world was a little muffled.

Turns out his last dose of pain meds had been administered while he was out.

“Wait, what dust thing?”

“Got that. You know. You’re allergic to dust. And peanuts. And cashews. And-the green ones.”

“Pistachios?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you know that?”

“You told me. Nearly fuckin’ killed you first time we really made out. I had just eaten a PB and J. Sent you into anaphylaxis.”

Billy felt himself drifting, that perfect dreamland tugging him back.

And then there was a cold hand on his arm, shaking him gently.

“Billy, Billy don’t fall asleep. You gotta, Billy what the fuck? We haven’t made out. We, how do you know what I’m allergic to?”

But Billy was swallowed up by sleep once again.

He was laying next to Steve, stretched out on their bed, Steve’s head resting on his shoulder.

“Today was nice. Haven’t had a day like that in such a long time.”

“We should do it more often, then. Call outta work and hang out at the beach all day.”

Steve rolled a bit to glare playfully at Billy.

“Some of us don’t have the luxury of setting our own hours, Mr. Boss Man.”

“Billy!”

And he was back, back to staring at the pale nervous face of Young Steve.

“Billy, you’re scaring me.”

Sunlight was beginning to haze through the meager window at the end of the hospital room. Billy hadn’t had any idea of time since he got here.

Steve looked like shit, like he hadn’t slept all night.

“Billy, I don’t know if you remember, everything you said before you fell asleep but-”

“I remember.”

Steve furrowed his brows.

“How do you know that? About, about my allergies. And yesterday, you said, you said I didn’t know what water under the bridge meant. And you said, that we m-made out.”

Billy sighed again, his lungs protesting the effort.

“My dream. The future. You’re the person. My person. And now it’s like, whatever Dream Billy knows about Dream Steve I know. And I figured I just, like, made all that shit up.”

Steve was studying his face.

“Okay, then let’s see if you’ve just had some lucky guesses. Tell me what else you know, and maybe it’s all wrong.”

And Billy didn’t really like the way Steve looked like he hoped is was all wrong. Like he didn’t wanna be tied to Billy in this way.

Billy narrowed his eyes.

“When you were fourteen you watched A Streetcar Named Desire with your mom and you credit Marlon Brando as your queer awakening.”

Steve’s eyes went wide, his mouth trembling.

“Your dad has smacked you once in your life, and it’s when you got the rejection letter from Indiana State. You hid the letter from him because you knew he’d be mad, but he found it and hit you and didn’t talk to you for nearly a month.”

Steve’s eyes were shining now.

“Your mom used to always talk about how much she wished you guys could have a better garden, but because it gets so cold here, she can’t grow anything. The house we have in the daydream has like, a huge fucking garden in it, by the way. I hate gardening but you love it.”

Steve stood abruptly, pacing the length of the room in front of Billy’s bed. Billy just kept going.

It was like everything was ready to burst out of him. To prove that he knows Steve, that he loves Steve. Even if this Steve is somehow different to Dream Steve.

“You go fucking batshit over corn on the cob, just with a little butter and salt on there. That’s somehow your favorite food. Because you’re the most Midwesterner to ever Midwestern, I guess. Your second favorite food is your grandmother’s lasagna. You keep trying to recreate her recipe and no matter how much I tell you it’s fucking delicious, you always get this little pout going and explain to me about how it’s not quite right. You only started smoking because-”

“That’s, I think that’s enough.”

Steve looked like a strong gust of wind would knock him right over.

“It true.?”

“It’s, it’s all true. In, in detail. I mean the, the letter, and my dad. I swore I was never gonna tell anyone about that.”

“It took you a few years. We were talking about my dad. How he treated me, and you admitted that. How sometimes you think about that one time and it makes you sad because that was my everyday-” Billy cut himself off.

Because fuck.

He forgot that Steve knows jack fucking all about Billy.

Which means Steve was currently giving him that look, that wide-eyed, nostrils flared, mouth tight look that he always did when he was angry on Billy’s behalf.

It was kinda hot.

“Excuse me?”

“Forgot my apparent psychic abilities were limited to just me knowing about you.”

“Billy, did your dad hit you?”

And Billy kinda saw no point in lying anymore.

“All the damn time.”

And Steve was back to pacing.

“Fuck. Fuck. That honestly, wow that explains a lot. I mean, yeah. I get it now. I get it.”

Billy let him mutter to himself.

Steve always does better thinking out loud.

“You know, I was actually fucking nervous to tell you, but now I don’t care. Your dad was one of the flayed.”

“Yeah, I know. Only person I never felt guilty about.”

“You’re handling this, like, scary well.”

“Technically, I’ve had thirty years of therapy. All this has been processed already.”

“Wait, your little dream is thirty years in the future?”

“About.”

“So we’re, like, fifty?”

“About.”

“How do I look?”

Billy barked a laugh, regretting it almost immediately as his whole body screamed in protest. He wheezed a few times before he felt like he could speak again.

“I think you’re hot, but you don’t handle aging well.”

“Oh, God. What’s the damage?”

“Not telling. You’re just gonna spend the next thirty years stressing more than you already would. But lemme tell you, first time you found a grey hair? That was the funniest day of my damn life. It was like being in a soap opera. You found it and then called our lawyer to begin drawing up a will. And you kept saying how you probably only have a few god years left in you. It was hilarious.”

“Glad to know you laugh at my pain.”

“It’s one grey hair. Plus you maintain good health, don’t worry. You’ve got plenty of time to whine over grey hairs.”

“At least I don’t go bald.”

“Nah. Full head of natural hair. Not even receding.”

Steve brushed a hand through his hair, dropping heavily back into the seat next to Billy’s bed.

“Man, this is too trippy. Like, from my end, we’re not even close, you know? But to you, we’ve been together for decades. That’s fucking wild.”

“Imagine how I feel. Am I some kind of psychic now, or is this all just fucking delusion?”

“I mean, you know too much shit about me for everything to be, like, a figment of your imagination. But what happens now? Like, if we don’t live out the future just like your daydream, is the world gonna fall apart? Or is that an alternate dimension? Like, if the Upside Down exists, there’s gotta be other worlds too. Is that one of them and maybe because you were infected by the Mind Flayer you have like, a link between both worlds?” Steve’s brows were furrowed, his eyes darting all over the ceiling as he thought out loud. “And, I mean, I’m confused. I don’t know what my feelings towards you are. Like, don’t get me wrong, there’s been interest since you showed up. But now you’re telling me in some reality, we’ve been together for thirty years, and obviously you know all this deep shit about me, so do we date? When you know me like the back of your hand and I barely know you at all? And are you technically fifty years old? Since you lived out that other life?”

Billy’s head was starting to hurt, and he felt tired again.

“Sugar, you think we could table this?”

Steve’s cheeks went red as his jaw clacked shut.

“Is that what you call me? Sugar?”

“Call you a lot ‘a stuff.”

“Uh, like, like what?”

“Sugar, Pretty Boy, Stevie, Baby, Sweet Thing, Honey. Mac n’ Steve comes to mind.” Steve smiled softly at the last one, his cheeks still warm. “Princess.” Steve opened his mouth, his brows furrowing, the blush spreading down his neck. “No sense in denying how much you like them. Those are tried and true. Thirty years of calling you all that. Plus a few others. But, you know. Those are mostly reserved for the bedroom.”

Steve’s eyes went huge again.

“Fuck. You probably know what I kinks I have better than I do.”

“Oh, we’ve done some exploring in our time.”

Steve bent forward to bury his face in his hands with an Oh, God.

“I don’t think I wanna know.”

“Trust me when I say, you enjoy most of it.”

“Oh, most. That’s great.”

“There’s some trial and error. But we’re good at laughing stuff off, you and me.”

And then Steve’s eyes went wide, and he sat up straight in his chair.

“Wait, you said. When I first asked about the dream, you said, you said married. We got-I mean, we can get married?”

“Yeah. And we like, make out in public and shit. Hold hands everywhere. We’re big saps.”

Steve took a shaky breath.

“So things get, they get better? For people like us?”

“Yeah, they do,” Billy kept his voice soft, felt like sharing this thread of hope should be kept intimate, quiet. And Steve’s face split into a wide grin.

“God, I can’t fucking wait. Just to be, not to be scared all the time. Of everyone finding out this big fucking secret. It just, is.” Steve huffed a laugh. “Can’t believe it. Two guys getting married. Was our wedding nice?”

“We had two. One in the courthouse, one with everybody.”

“Wow. I just can’t believe it-wait, who;s everybody?”

“Your gang of weirdos. Here.”

And Steve lips parted, and he made that cute little face he always does before he cries.

“They all come? Dustin and the Byers and everyone?”

“Robin officiates. Dustin cries really fuckin’ loudly.”

“And they’re all, they’re all fine with it?”

“Yep.”

“God. It’s all, you think it’s too good to be true?”

“Everything I know about you was right. Don’t see a reason why everything else would be wrong.”

“Then, where do we go from here? Like, do we try to follow your memories? Or, forge our own path? Will the fact that we know about this future automatically change it?”

Billy’s heart was doing something funny as Steve wondered aloud to himself about all this.

The fact that he was all in, dead set on having this happy future with Billy, when he didn’t even know Billy.

“Are you sure about this? If we do this? Or some form of it. I mean, I know fucking everything about you. And you don’t know me at all.”

“I know you well enough to see the good in you. I know you well enough to see that under all your big scary toughness you’re caring. And you’re kind. Although you’d probably rather be dead than admit it. And besides. If, in another reality, or in the future, or whatever, I pick you to spend my life with, obviously that means there’s something in you that makes me love you.”

Billy gawked at him.

His face was hot, no doubt bright fucking red.

Because, holy shit was that a lot.

And even Billy, used to Steve’s passionate little tangents after thirty dream-years worth, was taken aback by how quickly Steve was ready to jump into this.

And all of a sudden, Billy wanted nothing more than to reach out to Steve, to pull him close and kiss him until he couldn’t fucking breathe.

“Harrington, I’m gonna need you to come kiss me right the fuck now.”

And Steve smiled, his most sunshiney happy smile, and the chair legs scraped along the tiled floor as he got up, sitting carefully on the edge of Billy’s bed.

He leaned over him, cupping Billy’s cheek in his hand, and pressing the softest of sugar kisses to his lips.

Billy let his eyes flutter closed, and he put one hand bandaged on Steve’s lap, wanting to grasp at him, to pull him even closer.

But Steve wrapped his other hand as gently as possible around the thick bandages, pulling away slowly, studying Billy’s face.

“I never asked. Is this always how our first kiss went?”

And Billy tried to search his memory, tried to find the sweet first kiss.”

“I-I don’t remember.”

Steve sat back.

“What?”

“Our first kiss, from the memories. I don’t remember. It’s like, when I think of our first kiss, all I can think of is that one just now. The other one is gone.”

An ache settled in Billy’s chest at the prospect, at losing a perfect memory with Steve. Losing their first kiss.

“So, when we do something, it like, replaces the old memory?”

“I guess.”

“So, we can build new ones then. And like, you won’t have to go through your whole life twice. We can start closer to square one. Memories that’ll be ours, and not ones that I don’t know.”

And that’s true.

For the pain of every memory gone is a brand new one, one that Steve would remember and be a part of too.

“Then I’m not telling you anymore. If we’re gonna build the memories together, we can’t be working off of some, some blueprint. Things need to be ours.”

“Agreed. We’ll make it up as we go.” Steve hadn’t stopped smiling at Billy.

“Is it weird I’m gonna kinda miss seeing you all old? You’re a silver fucking fox.”

“Yes, Bill. That’s fucking weird.” Steve took his hand and pressed a kiss on his bandages, right over where his palm will be. “Just means you’ll have to watch me go through it all again, though.”

“God, that’s the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Yeah? That get you going? The thought of me aging?”

“Nah, Pretty Boy. The thought of us aging together.”

“Wow. When you said we’re saps, you really meant it.”

Billy rolled his eyes, sighing as deeply as he could.

“Can it, Harrington. Or I’ll call the nurse and have you escorted out by security.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t. You’d miss me too much.” Steve pressed another kiss to his bandaged hand before sliding off the hospital bed, sitting back in this chair, scooting it as close as possible to the bed. He rested his elbows on the edge of Billy’s bed, and set his chin in his hands. “So, California, huh? When do we head out there?”

“Remember, like, twenty seconds ago when I said I wasn’t gonna say any more?”

Steve pushed his bottom lip out, making his eyes go big as he pouted at Billy.

“That doesn’t work on me anymore, Baby.” That was absolutely a lie. It worked on Billy nearly every time. But what’s he gonna do, reveal his weakness to Steve? Absolutely fucking not.

“C’mon, Bill. Just like, the year.”

“Nope. Not saying a damn thing.”

“Please?” Steve pouted some more.

“So odd to hear you begging outside of the bedroom.” Billy grinned with his tongue between his teeth as Steve dropped his little pouty face, his cheeks going red. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Steve rolled his eyes. Sailing right past pleading and into petulant.

“Fine. I’ll just rot here until you decide to whisk me away to California. Better make it soon or else I may just die of boredom.”

“Jesus, so fucking dramatic. Didn’t we say we’re gonna make our own memories and shit? You can very well ask me to run away with you.”

“Maybe we should like, go on a date first. So I know you’re not a serial killer before I get in a car with you and drive out of state.”

“You’re so weird.” Steve made a snarky face at him. “But you better be planning our first date. I don’t wanna accidentally repeat the other one. Want us to have our own.”

And Billy felt that overwhelming sense of sadness at losing the memories of the other date, the perfect timid experience. Going to the diner and ordering to go, eating while sitting on the hood of Steve’s car overlooking the quarry, talking for hours and hours.

But he’ll get a new memory. One he’ll cherish just as much, maybe even more, knowing that Steve will cherish the memory too.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll take out. Maybe just metaphorically speaking, as I don’t think you’re in any shape to be going out.”

“Ha ha, Shithead. Just make it nice. You’ve got a lot to live up to.”

Steve rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly as he sighed dramatically.

“If our whole relationship is just you holding me to the impossibly high standard of alternate reality me, then I want out now.”

“Relax. The standard’s not that high.”

Steve made an indignant squawking sound.

Billy just laughed.

“I’m kidding. Just, you know. I don’t think you’ll have any trouble meeting the standard. I fell for you once. I can do it again.”

And Steve’s face went all soft again, and he curled forward to rest his head on Billy’s arm.

“Thirty years. Always thought I’d end up divorced. People tend to get sick of me.”

“Not me. Never got sick of you, never gonna get sick of you. You’re stuck with me.”

“Then you’re stuck with me too.”

#yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove

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whattimeisitintokyo · 3 years

Text

Snip Snip

This is a one shot/sequel to @pengychan ‘s Mind the Gap that I had brewing in my head for sometime. 100% Pengy approved, I hope you enjoy some silliness.

WARNING: Has some language, sexual descriptions and deals with a M/M/F relationship. Also you should really read Pengy’s fic before you read mine.

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“Señor De la Cruz? The doctor will see you in about five minutes.”

“Never mind. I’m leaving.”

“No—nngh! No! Sit-… down!”

With a none to gentle shove and with great effort Héctor managed to pull Ernesto back down into the waiting room seat. The crashing of a heavy body and screeching of the plastic chair led to a disgruntled brow raise from the receptionist, but she just sighed and returned to her computer work. Ernesto grumbled to himself and crossed his arms with a glare.

“This was your idea, amigo.” Héctor whispered, not wanting to agitate the lady behind the counter even more.

“Exactly, which is why I should be allowed to change my mind.” Ernesto said, pouting as he looked down at his groin. “You don’t understand. I’ve spent my- no wait, every man has spent their whole lives protecting their manhood with gentle care and affection. It is a sense of pride, of thing of power. Potency! It’s what makes a man a man. To get a vasectomy goes against everything I believe in. It’s not in my nature.”

“Aw, Ernesto…” Héctor gripped Ernesto’s arm and squeezed comfortingly. “We’ve talked about this. You’ll still be a man. Imelda and I won’t think any less of you. In fact we’re both extremely proud of you for doing this.”

“Oh shut up.”

“How about this. Once you have the operation, get all healed up and are ready for some action, then…” Pausing to check to see if the receptionist was watching them. “Then you get to go to town on Imelda. No more condoms, just skin to skin. You thrusting deep inside of her while she screams your name, coming together in one rush of pure ecstasy.”

If it weren’t for his nerves and the flight-or-fight struggle going on inside of him now Ernesto would have been fully erect by Héctor’s words alone. Not an ideal situation to be in when one was in a urologist’s office and about to be fully nude from the waist down. Still his cheeks gave a slight flush and he swallowed thickly. “And, uh… what will you be doing while I’m with her?”

“Me?” Héctor chuckled huskily. “Why I’ll be right behind you. Just how you like it.”

Ernesto gasped softly. An Ernesto sandwich, his favorite. A sandwich was something Imelda had come up with that always depended on who was in the middle of their combined lovemaking, a silly little thing hardly compared to how fucking awesome it really was. Penetration and getting penetrated, two forms of stimulation all at once that left one howling in pleasure to the heavens and beyond. Ernesto’s face went full red at that and could already feel the tingle of arousal pooling in his stomach and creeping down into his groin. This was bad. He couldn’t get hard now. He had to think of something to cool down. Something to stop the progression of his-

“Alright, Señor. The doctor will see you now.”

‘That’ll do it.’ Ernesto thought as all thoughts of sex had switched back to nauseating terror.

“Ay, puta madre.” Ernesto whispered and stood up with Héctor. He started to actually tremble when they went through the door, Héctor’s hand on his shoulder failing to stop it. “Shit, shit, shit…”

“Uy, you’re so tense.” Héctor said, now a little worried. “You took your Valium pill almost an hour ago. It didn’t calm you down even a little bit?”

“Do I look calm?!” Ernesto whispered harshly.

No, Héctor had to admit. In the last half hour in the waiting room Ernesto had done anything but relax. He had stood up and sat down multiple times, paced the room, gotten a cup of stale coffee, and had picked up every single magazine that they had, read exactly one page of each, and had thrown it back down onto the table. Héctor believed that if he hadn’t had any Valium in his system right now then there would have been an Ernesto shaped hole busted through the wall of the receptionist office.

“Well they’re gonna give you something stronger once we’re in the room.”

“It won’t work. I know it won’t work.”

“How?”

“Héctor you know me.” Ernesto said, the trembling now reaching his voice. “I have a very strong constitution. Alcohol barely phases me, I need an extraordinary amount of caffeine to really wake up. That valium might as well have been an aspirin. I’m telling you there is nothing in the world that’ll calm me down at this point!”

----------------------

Apparently that nothing had been a Demerol shot to the ass by an elderly nurse.

Héctor cursed the person who had made up the stupid rule that no cell phones or cameras were to be allowed in the doctor’s office. For this was a golden moment that would soon exist only in his memories. And maybe even only his memories because Ernesto himself was just a touch out of it. There he was, laying on the reclined operating chair in a hospital gown with his bare waist covered by a thin paper sheet. Singing baby songs.

“Quince elefantes se balanceaban sobre la tela de una araaaañaaa…” Ernesto sang drowsily while he languidly twirled his finger in the air like a conductor’s baton.

He had slowly but surely diminished over the past half hour, starting with the sluggish shaking of his head as the drugs started to paint his brain with a slight fog. Then came the slow blinking and the monotone, droning humming. Then finally to this: awake sedation as the doctors called it. To Héctor though it was pure hilarity.

Suddenly Ernesto stopped singing and his brow furrowed in thought. “You know they say that a strand of a spider’s web can be tougher than steel.”

Héctor nodded. “I’m sure I’ve heard that somewhere.”

“I don’t think a spider web can hold fifteen elephants, though.”

“No.”

“Then why would they make a song about something that is physically impossible?”

Héctor laughed. “It’s just a song to teach babies how to count, Ernesto.”

“Well it’s doing a very poor job about teaching them physics.” Ernesto huffed. “When we make it big we should do some kiddy songs, sí? Public domain stuff. That’s free money right there. Quince elefantes se balanceaban-.”

“Ernesto.” Héctor clapped a hand across Ernesto’s mouth, stifling a grin when it seemed to take a few seconds before the drugged man realized his song had been silenced. When Ernesto glared up at him he continued. “You’ve said quince elefantes five times now. You aren’t adding anymore elephants.”

This seemed to be news to Ernesto, and when Héctor removed his hand he actually looked downright embarrassed and ashamed. “Oh… I’m sorry.”

Yes, drugged Ernesto was hilarious alright. Also endearing and adorable.

“It’s okay, I forgive you.” Héctor said with a smile, and then bent over to give him a kiss on the forehead.

Ernesto hummed in contentment, a faint red on his cheeks as he suddenly looked bashful. “Someone could have come in when you did that, you know.”

“But they didn’t.”

“The room could have a security camera.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Oh, okay… Then…” Ernesto pouted and pointed to his forehead on the same spot. “Uno mas.”

Héctor happily obliged, and no sooner had he leant back from the kiss when the door opened. It was enough to make Héctor’s heart seize a little bit before forcing himself to relax. He hadn’t seen, it was alright. Ernesto just smiled wobbly and waved at the doctor coming in.

“Well, Señor de la Cruz!” the doctor said cheerfully as he set down his clipboard and began to slip on his gloves. “It’s been a little while now. How are we feeling after the Demerol shot?”

“Philosophical.” Ernesto proclaimed grandly, nearly smacking Héctor in the face as he threw out his hand in a dramatic pose. “Young Héctor and I have been discussing the fallacies of nursery rhymes and how they are negatively impacting a child’s learning structure.”

The doctor blinked at that, before giving Ernesto an indulgent smile. “Ohh, so I see. Yep, the medicine is in full effect.” Looking over at Héctor his smile seemed to falter a bit. “You know I usually see wives, girlfriends and even mothers come in to offer support, but rarely male friends.”

Héctor chuckled. “Well I think if his mamá realized that he would be cutting off any chance of her having grandchildren she would explode into a flood of tears. And besides, my wife and I would like to have more kids in the future, but I also might one day want to have a vasectomy. What better time to weigh my options than with my best friend, you know? See what it all entails.”

“I understand.” With a snap of his glove and turning on the overhead light to illuminate Ernesto’s crotch, he moved his tray of surgical equipment towards him. “All right then. Shall we begin?”

With a slight whimper Ernesto held out his hand for Héctor to hold. “You won’t let go at all, right?”

Seeing Ernesto so vulnerable and adorable melted Héctor’s heart, and he wished that Imelda had been there with him to witness Ernesto being so cute. He clutched Ernesto’s hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “I won’t. Don’t worry amigo, this is a perfectly normal procedure. Nothing to worry about at all.”

---------------------------

With Coco laid down for her afternoon nap, all the dogs and Pepita fed and watered, and no shoe orders to work on at the moment Imelda was enjoying some private time to herself curled onto the sofa, watching TV and drinking a nice cup of coffee. She knew this momentary bit of peace wouldn’t last.

Soon Héctor and Ernesto would be back from the doctor’s office and Imelda would be ready for them. She already had stocked up on acetaminophen and had several cold packs in the freezer for when they would be needed. She had even stocked up on Ernesto’s favorite soda, or at least one he tolerated when he wasn’t able to drink beer or other liquors.

She was very proud of Ernesto for bringing up the idea of getting a vasectomy for himself, and even prouder when he had set up the appointment all by himself and left for it this morning with Héctor. She knew he was nervous, heck she was nervous about it too, but she also knew that Ernesto was a man who once he set his mind on something there was no turning back. It was one of the things that she loved about him, even though it sometimes aggravated her.

Loved.

It was so weird thinking that now, even though she knew it was true. Although she was still deeply in love with Héctor and he was in love with her, the end of their sexual arrangement with Ernesto did not make their feelings for him disappear like she thought it would. In fact it only strengthened them. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say.

And in the end the only thing it succeeded in doing was completely breaking Ernesto’s heart and left him wanting for almost a year. She was ashamed of herself but there was no way she could have foreseen what would come of the night she had slapped that strap-on in front of Ernesto. She had no idea that she would have two men holding a third of her heart while she held a third of theirs.

But it was fine now. For how long she didn’t know. But they would just take it one day at a time.

When she heard the door knock she blew out a sigh and set her coffee mug down. Dante and Ernesto’s four little chihuahuas immediately ran to the door in their room where they were currently shut up in, but thankfully for once they didn’t yip or bark. Just whined pitifully and slightly scratched the door. But they would have to wait until she got Ernesto set up on the couch and was safely protected from them.

Opening the door, she greeted them with a smile. “Well, how did it… go?...”

Ernesto was standing there, straight and tall as ever, an annoyed pout on his face while with one arm wrapped around him was Héctor. Trembling slightly and his face the color of putty, Héctor pointed a shaking finger to Imelda. “We… are stocking up on condoms. Either that or we’ll have a dozen kids. But I am never… going to get one of those… things ever! Never ever!”

Imelda was shocked. “Dios mio! What on Earth happened? Ernesto, did you get the vasectomy or not?”

Handing Imelda a pamphlet with his free hand, Ernesto nodded. “Yeah, I got it. Surgery was short and went without a hitch. Here’s the aftercare treatment plan he gave me. No, the real problem was Princess Héctor right here. Fainted like a dainty maid after the doctor held up my sperm tube for us to see. I know it has another name, but I forget and don’t care.”

“Fainted!” Imelda gasped. “Are you all right? Did you hit your head?”

“No, but he did throw up.” Ernesto smirked.

“Don’t remind me.” Héctor groaned, holding his stomach and struggling to support himself. “I’ve been nauseous the whole ride back. I need to see something cute. Something pure. I need to see my Coco. Coco, my love, Papá is coming!”

“Do not wake her up Héctor, I just put her down twenty minutes ago!” Imelda called out to Héctor’s retreating form. “And don’t let the dogs out of the other room either!”

“Ay, ay ay ay…”

At the sound of pain, Imelda’s attention turned to Ernesto. He was hunched slightly against the doorframe, his eyes closed tight and face pinched. “Oh, I’m so sorry Ernesto. Héctor distracted me. Are you in a lot of pain?”

“Just tender more than painful.” Ernesto grunted out. “Though it might hurt more after the anesthetic wears off. No, what really hurts is my hand. Héctor crushed the hell out of it during the whole surgery! I regret ever asking him to hold it in the first place! It’s not like my whole livelihood rests in the full use of my hands…”

“You’d still have your voice.” Imelda smiled. “And your so-called good looks.”

“Whatever… can you help me to the couch? I- nng!-… think I reached my limit helping Héctor.”

Ah, so he was in pain. Taking hold of Ernesto’s large arm she helped him slowly shuffle his way around the couch. “He was supposed to be helping you.” She chastised.

“Well he was pretty much useless afterwards.”

“You could have hurt yourself. You shouldn’t be lifting heavy objects.”

Ernesto smiled. “Well look on the bright side. If one of my cajones swells up like a grapefruit then he can pay for my medical bills.”

“Mmm hmm.” Imelda couldn’t help by snicker a little at that. “Okay, let’s sit you down. Okay, easy. Easy…”

Slowly Ernesto sat down on the couch, letting Imelda support him as he slowly eased his way down. With a pained grunt and then a sigh of relief he let his head fall back against the headrest and let his knees spread enough to the point where there was no pain, the sweatpants he was wearing lifting away from the sensitive area. He closed his eyes for a few moments, listening to Imelda bustling through the kitchen quietly, before a soft ahem made him open them again.

Imelda handed him a glass of water and two white pills, then placed a frozen ice pack next to him on the couch. Taking the pills without complaint and downing half the glass of water, he then took the ice pack and ever so gently molded it against his sore nether regions. Gasping softly at the cold at first he then sighed in relief as the coolness soothed the aches and pains, smiling gratefully up at Imelda. “Gracias.”

“De nada.” Imelda said before sitting down next to him, careful not to jostle him too much. “So, the vasectomy was a success?”

Ernesto nodded. “Yep, my cannon is now just a water gun: I may be shooting blanks, but I can still squirt you in the eye.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Oh am I?”

“Hmm…” Imelda leant against her arm that was resting on the back of the couch, relieved that the pain seemed to be slowly fading from Ernesto’s features. She smiled a little, watching him until he looked over her way with a question on his face. “I’m proud of you, you know.”

Shifting a little uncomfortably, he gave her a smug look that used to infuriate her but now knew was just a mask to cover up his own insecurities. “You’re going to have to be more specific. I have done many things in my life you should be proud of.”

“Oh, of course.” Imelda tittered, then rested a hand on his arm. “No I’m proud that you did this. It would have been… hard to explain to others if I gave birth to a child that looked like you… I know you don’t necessarily like children and wouldn’t want one to begin with, but it was still a big decision to make. It couldn’t have been easy-”

“I’m willing to do whatever it takes to stay with you two… Whatever it takes…”

This startled Imelda. Ernesto’s face had darkened considerably when he had said that, but his eyes displayed the same misery she had seen during the year where Ernesto had been separated from them. Because of her. She had been acting on her motherly instincts when she had found out that she was pregnant with Coco, surely a threesome between her parents and her godfather would end badly for her once it would be discovered. And it had only been about sex at the beginning and one-upping each other in terms of sexual prowess when it came to Héctor.

But love had grown first in Ernesto. And then in her and Héctor. All the separation had done was make them all miserable. It was no one else’s concern what they did behind closed doors, and they would raise Coco and their potential children to have open minds and kind hearts.

Ernesto’s eyes cleared and his face reddened in embarrassment as he quickly tried to back pedal. “Oh, uh… Forget I said that. I guess I’m still a little high from the drugs the nurse gave me. They always make me a bit chatty.”

Leaning forward, she wove her fingers into Ernesto’s wavy hair and smiled. “Well I wouldn’t worry. Like it or not you’re stuck with us for life.” And then she gave him a kiss on the forehead, not knowing it was in the exact same spot that Héctor had given him hours earlier. Ernesto touched where she had kissed him, face even redder, and smiled back.

Standing up from the couch, Imelda handed him the TV remote and brushed herself down in a way to calm her own nerves. “Well all right then. Don’t leave that ice pack on for too long. Just do it twenty minutes every hour. Would you like a soda?”

“I’d prefer a beer.”

“Not with medicine still in your system.”

“I also want to see my dogs.”

“I’m sorry, do you want four bony and dense cannonballs jumping directly onto your crotch?”

“…No…”

“Didn’t think so. I’ll get you some soda and chips before I have to rescue Coco from her father. Just holler if you need anything else.”

Watching her walk into the kitchen Ernesto settled further into the couch with a grin. The ache in his groin was lessening, he was now and forever barren, Imelda was pampering him, and he’d seen Héctor make a total fool out of himself today.

“This is nice.” Ernesto said to himself as he turned on the TV. “I should have gotten a vasectomy years ago!”

-------------------------

“And this is from his concert last month in Guadalajara! Signed photographs! Isn’t he handsome? My precious boy! He told me that they were charging 1000 pesos for one foto and they were selling like crazy! But he sent me a stack so that I could share them with my friends. And so I was wondering if you would like one too, Maricarmen?”

Maricarmen stopped stacking a pyramid of oranges long enough to glance at the photograph in Señora Adela de la Cruz’s hands. Ernesto was handsome all right: Dressed in a fine royal blue mariachi suit with a wide brimmed sombrero, grinning with pure machismo and his name signed in gold ink. But the sight of him didn’t melt her insides like it would other girls who glanced at his rugged features. It never did, really. Now just looking at him made her… anxious.

“I think I’ll pass Adela, but gracias anyway.”

Adela’s smile faded and she had that pitying, patronizing look that so many other people gave her that made her so mad but unable to defend herself against. “Are you still upset because Ernesto left all those years ago?”

“…I’m not… upset, but-.”

“Because it was my fault really! Ernesto left because of what I and his father did to him, we betrayed his trust and hurt him deeply. But finally we’ve patched things up and everything is right as rain again. He even visits us again, my precious boy! I know that you and he were good friends-”

Friends…

“-but every time he visits you never come over. Are you upset with him? Are you upset that he’s…” Adela paused, looked around to see if anyone else was listening in on their conversation, and whispered none too quietly, “…gay?”

Shocked into a sputtering snort Maricarmen managed to knock down her carefully made orange pyramid all over her fruit stall and onto the ground. Rolling her eyes she bent down to pick up the fallen fruit, shaking her head. “No, I’m not upset about that.” She said, not at all wanting to explain to the older woman what bisexuality was.

“I know you had some feelings for him.”

“… No offense, Dona, but the only feelings I had for him were tolerance but mostly annoyance.”

“Then what is it?”

“Mamá!”

The uncomfortable conversation was finally over with when all of a sudden a piercing cry and quick steps caused both woman to turn at the sudden intruder. A cute little girl, no more than eleven years old, came running up to them with her pink backpack slung over one elbow and her other hand reaching out for Maricarmen. She practically collided with Maricarmen with enough force to garner an oof! from the thin woman and gave her a big hug. “I’m done with school Mamá! May I have some money?”

“And a cheery good afternoon to you too, Maricruz.” Maricarmen said drily.

Maricruz laughed sheepishly and let go, putting her backpack underneath the fruit stand for safekeeping. “Lo siento, Mamá. It’s just that Dolores and Primavera are going to the movies and they invited me. So can I have some money, por favooooor?!”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, mija, but you know things have been tight recently. I’m going to have to start doing some night shifts at the cantina so we can stay afloat and have enough spending money.”

Maricarmen stayed strong when her daughter’s face instantly dropped. She knew that Maricruz was used to not having enough money for things she wanted, but being alone at night while her mother worked was something she hated most. Maricarmen knew that, but it wasn’t like she had anybody else to help her with raising her daughter. Her parents had both died years ago, and she had no other relatives willing to help the poor little slut who had a bastard child.

Maybe I could ask… her father for help?

No. Out of the question. What a fine time to tell him he had a daughter after all these years. And after he had just made it big.

“Oh, okay…” Maricruz said dejectedly, before turning a wide winning smile to Adela. “Señora de la Cruz! How nice to see you. Could you spare a few pesos so I could go see a movie, por favor?”

“Maricruz!” her mother instantly scolded. “You do not just ask someone else for money immediately after I said-”

“Of course I can, niña!”

“ADELA!” Maricarmen cried. “I’m trying to show her she can’t always get what she wants!”

Adela waved her off as she reached for her wallet. “Oh, it’s just a little money and our movie theater isn’t expensive. Going to one movie isn’t going to spoil the girl, especially one as sweet as she is. Here you go, chiquita, here’s enough money for the movie and a few snacks as well.”

“Gracias Señora de la Cruz!” Maricruz said as she pocketed the money and gave the elderly woman a big hug. “You are the nicest woman in all of Santa Cecilia!”

“Oh ho ho, you charmer you.” Adela chortled and then handed her one of her signed photographs. “Here you go also. A signed photograph of my son Ernesto, soon to be the greatest singer in all of Mexico! I’m giving it to everyone for free.”

“Oh cool, gracias!” Maricruz said as she took it, clearly not as excited as she was when she got the money. “I think I’ll give this to my friend Paloma if you don’t mind. She’s a de la Cruzito for life, at least that’s what she told me.”

“Oh, and you’re not?” Adela asked confused.

Maricarmen shook her head and smirked. “No, she likes Héctor, don’t you mija?”

Maricruz sighed dramatically and clutched the photo to her chest. “Ahhh, he’s soooo dreamy!...”

“Really now!” Adela laughed in surprise. “I must admit I’m a little shocked. Don’t get me wrong Héctor is a fine boy and everything, but I guess I’m just used to everyone fawning over my Tito.”

Photograph still in hand, Maricruz just shrugged and smiled widely, her light brown eyes almost giving off a golden hue. “Sorry Señora. But Ernesto de la Cruz just isn’t my type!”

THE END

#coco fanfic #pixar coco #Hector Rivera #Ernesto de la Cruz #imelda rivera #mama imelda #pengychan #mind the gap #Way to go ernesto #you've got a cute little surprise waiting for you in Santa Cecilia

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buckbarnesjames · 3 years

Text

Chapter One (Updated)

Summary: “If I cannot get it right now, I don’t want it at all”.

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: discussions of sugar daddy/sugar baby relationships. swearing. discussions of sex.

Word Count: 2216

A/N: Hey guys, I’ll be back to writing this soon as inspiration has hit again, I’m just updating the previous chapters! I had to repost this one as I couldn’t find the original post to edit it. Please enjoy and as always, feedback is welcomed. The taglist is OPEN so feel free to ask to be tagged!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Bucky spent the rest of Friday afternoon mulling over how to broach the subject with you. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable in the work environment, but he had secretly always dreamed of having a more personal relationship with you and it wasn’t as if he was new to the sugar baby/sugar daddy dynamic - in fact, he rather enjoyed it. Eventually, he decides to let it go for now and think more about it over the weekend. Meanwhile, whilst Bucky is preparing to spend the weekend overthinking his predicament, you’re preparing to spend time with Nat and Wanda.

Saturday evening you meet them for drinks at a popular nightclub. “Hey, sugar baby” Nat teases you. You roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at her. “Enough of that, Natalia. I told you to drop it” you sass back at her. After a few more minutes of teasing from Nat and Wanda, they finally drop the subject. The waiter approaches your table and you order a round for you and the girls - a Cosmopolitan for Wanda, a white Russian for Nat and a Daiquiri in your favourite flavour for yourself. After a few rounds, you’re feeling brave enough to hit the dance floor.

You and the girls dance close together, the feeling of the bass pumping through your ears. You feel a pair of eyes watching you but brush it off and continue to dance. Halfway through the next song, you feel Nat’s hands on your waist as she leans in close enough that you’re able to hear you, “Hey...isn’t that Mr Barnes?” she says, tilting her head in the direction of the bar. Sure enough, there he is and he’s watching you rather intently. “Let’s give our boss a show, shall we?” she says before spinning you around. You throw your head back laughing, the alcohol probably clouding your judgement, and try to scold her in between giggles. You and the girls dance for a while, with Nat periodically confirming that Mr Barnes - and his friend - are indeed watching you.

Eventually the dancing wears you out, and you all head back to your booth. The waiter approaches again with a fresh round when he notices you all taking your seats. As he places the final drink down, he points towards the bar where Bucky and his friend previously stood, “The gentleman over there would like a moment of your time” he says, smiling knowingly. You look over to see that he’s still there along with his friend, who you now recognise is his business partner, Steve Rogers, nursing glasses of whiskey. As if he can sense your eyes on him, he looks up at you and smiles.

“I’ll be back in a moment” you say to Nat and Wanda. They look between you and Bucky in surprise before Nat drunkenly declares, “Uh oh, you’re in trouble” and giggles. Wanda tries to shush her whilst motioning for you to go as you stand there nervously tugging your dress down, which you now feel is way too short, and taking a long sip of your drink.

You approach Bucky and Steve, “Mr Barnes, are you trying to proposition me?” You joke, the fresh drink in your system giving you a little confidence. If only you had an idea of the thought that had swirled around his mind all day. He had originally called you over to discuss the conversation he had overheard, the alcohol in his system impairing his judgement, but now that you’re standing in front of him he can’t get the words out so instead chuckles at your joke. “Of course not, Miss Y/L/N. I just wanted to offer you a drink, you've worked hard this week” he smiles at you and awaits your answer as you try to ignore your brain suggesting that he’s also referring to the little dance show earlier.

“I appreciate that, Mr Barnes, but we were just about to leave.” Bucky looks a little disappointed at your reply. “Maybe another time though?” you smile at him brightly before realising what you had said. You could feel embarrassment coursing through your body. You had no idea why you’d suggested grabbing a drink with your boss. You excuse yourself quickly after that and head home with the girls, missing the way Bucky smoothes his tongue over his lips. You looked good in that dress.

“Is that the girl you were talking about? Your assistant?” Steve interrupts the tirade of dirty thoughts racing through his mind, and he’s grateful. He shouldn’t be thinking about you like that. The whole sugar baby/sugar daddy thing was a ridiculous idea, a momentary lapse in his judgement. He nods at Steve in reply and downs his whiskey, ordering another one as he places his glass down on the bar. “You have it bad, dude” Steve laughs and Bucky scowls at him. “I can see why, but I prefer redheads” Steve continues joking, looking to the exit as you, Wanda and Nat leave. “Nat would eat you alive, pretty boy. She’s ruthless and that’s why she’s head of the finance department” Bucky bites back. Steve laughs and proudly declares that he could handle her, to which Bucky continuously denies for the rest of the night as Steve tries to convince him to give him Nat’s number.

You arrive on time to work on Monday, your car having spent the weekend in the garage, and the next few days pass by in a blur of meetings, business proposals and coffee making. You don’t see much of Bucky through the week but put it down to the time of year and not the encounter you’d had with him Saturday night. You knew he was probably planning the end of month gala to celebrate acquiring an important business deal. Before you know it, Thursday arrives.

Bucky is working late again. As usual, you’d order him some food and placed it on his desk. You’re packing your bag to head home when Bucky enters the office, closing the door behind him. “Miss Y/L/N, could I talk to you for a moment?” he says, his tone serious and you begin to worry that you’ve done something wrong. “Of course, Mr Barnes. Is everything okay? I haven’t messed something up have I?” you ramble on. You couldn’t afford to lose this job, the pay was great and allowed you to live comfortably in a decent Manhattan apartment. “Y/N,” Bucky interrupts your inner monologue, “Everything’s fine. I just wanted to talk to you about a conversation I overheard the other week.” Your stomach drops. Oh, shit. He’d heard you, Nat and Wanda.

You look to the floor, embarrassed. “Mr Barnes, I can explain…” Bucky interrupts you again, this time by placing his finger under your chin and lifting your head so your graze meets his. You gasp at the contact. Bucky had never been this informal with you before. “You’re not in trouble, Y/N. In fact, I found the conversation rather interesting.” Bucky says, removing his hand from underneath your chin once he’s sure you won’t break eye contact. “Look, I’ve been thinking about this for the past week and I don’t want to overstep any boundaries but well, If I don’t ask then I’ll never know.”

“Thinking about what, Mr Barnes?” You look at him in confusion, your head tilted slightly to the left. Bucky finds the action endearing. You look so innocent. He takes a deep breath before speaking again, “Look, you know as well as anybody around here that If I can’t get what I want right now, then I don’t want it and well right now… I want you. I want you in the capacity that you and your friends were talking about on Friday.” Bucky hears as you sharply inhale. “You mean, you want me as...as your sugar baby?” you ask, your voice an octave higher than usual. Bucky chuckles softly at your nervousness. “Yes, Y/N. You’re free to say no, I’ll never broach the subject again and we can continue to work together in a professional capacity but...I’d really like it if you were to say yes”.

“Why me?” you ask. You don’t know why but it’s the only thing you can say. For some reason, your feet aren’t carrying you out of the office and home as fast as possible, like you’d wished when this conversation had begun. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you’d secretly fantasized about your attractive boss since the moment you began working at Barnes Industries. “I have more money than I have sense, Y/N, and if I’ve gotta spend it on someone other than myself then I choose the beautiful girl who has sat at the desk across from me for the past two years”. Bucky watches you, surveying your reaction. He was pushing the boundaries so far right now but god, he hadn’t been able to get this idea out of his head all week. “Beautiful?” You ask, as if that was the most ridiculous thing he had said in the last five minutes. “Beautiful” he says firmly.

“How would this even work, Mr Barnes?” you ask, the wheels in your head are spinning a thousand miles and hour and you can’t stop yourself from entertaining the idea. BUcky smiles and you see him visibly relax. He pulls a recognisable Tiffany & Co box out of the pocket of his suit pants. “Well...if you were to agree, I’d love for you to accept this gift and wear it every day around the office.” He opens the box to reveal a drop pendant with five, shining stones. You gasp at the simplistic beauty of it. “And what then...if I accept?” you whisper. You had no idea why you were whispering, you knew that you and Bucky were alone in the office. “If you were to accept, I would take you on an initial spending spree and buy you whatever clothes, shoes and products you desired. I would then give you a weekly allowance of an agreed upon amount” Bucky says, his tone similar to the one he uses in business meetings. “And what would you require from me?” you ask. He knows what you’re implying. “You wouldn’t have to do anything you were uncomfortable with. I’d require your company at any events I have to attend and I would love to spend time with you outside of the work environment, taking you to dinner and things but that would only happen if you wanted it to” he answers, watching as a mixture of emotions flash across your face - surprise, confusion and relief. It stings a little when he recognises the look of relief on your face, he’d always been attracted to you and hoped the feeling was mutual.

“This is all so sudden, James” given the situation, you address him informally. His heart flutters at the way you say his name. “I know, and you don’t have to agree but if you decide this is something you want...then text this number before eight tomorrow morning and I’ll send a car for you” he says and he hands you a card with a cellphone number that you don’t recognise.”It’s my drivers number” he answers the question he can see formulating in your mind. You smile, knowing he’d given you that number because his personal phone tended not to be charged unless you’d done it. “I’ll let you go home now and think about things,” he says, taking a step back from you and giving you some breathing room. You silently pick your bag up and make your way to the door of the office, with shaky legs. You turn back to look at him offering him a small smile and a “Goodnight, Mr Barnes”.

You toss and turn all night, mulling the idea over. It wasn’t like you needed the money, Barnes Industries paid you well - probably above the national salary of an executive assistant - but the idea of spending time with Bucky in a more personal way was gnawing at your mind. It was no secret between you and your friends that you had always harbored a little crush on him, and now he was practically on his hands and knees in front of you offering himself - and his money - to you. You get out of bed at seven AM, deciding there was no point in lying around any longer. You get dressed for the day quickly and attempt to eat some breakfast but the nervousness in your stomach doesn’t allow you to eat much so you just drink a coffee and eat a few spoonfuls of oatmeal. You pick up your phone and the piece of paper Bucky had given you last night and take a deep breath before typing out the words that would change your life forever.

I thought about it, Mr Barnes. You type out, clicking send immediately after - giving yourself no chance to change your mind for the millionth time. And what did you decide, Miss Y/L/N? The reply is instant, as if he had been waiting around all morning for you to come to a decision. You quickly type and send your reply.

Yes.

#The Arrangement #ceo!bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x reader series

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isolemnlyswearpevensie · 4 years

Text

Paper Cut | Edmund Pevensie x Reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: Mentions of injury/blood, describing pain, seemingly near-death experience and talk about death, probably some cussing

Time/Era: Modern AU but the Pevensies have been to Narnia.

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: Every injury your soulmate receives, you also receive. When you finally meet your soulmate, you have a few bones to pick.

A/N: Hello! This is the first imagine I’ve written on this blog, so I decided to do something a little more light-hearted for our favorite just king. I’m also a sucker for soulmate aus. There will be a part 2 for this story :D Feel free to leave requests :) Also, I’ve never been to Cambridge University so please take everything I say about it with a grain of salt lol

Part 2 | Part 3 | masterlist | read on ao3

It’s a common courtesy to try and be as careful as you can when it comes to your body. Not for your sake, but for your soulmate’s. Every papercut, cramp, broken bone, and even every itch you feel, your other half does as well. So, it was common sense to try to be as careful as you could to not inflict pain on them. Or at least that’s what Y/N thought. She spent her whole life dodging anything she felt could cause her harm. This included “normal kid” things like playing on the playground, rolling down hills, jumping off things, or playing sports. Her heart was always in the right place, even if her friends and family called her a stick in the mud for declining their “fun” requests. She could not, and will not, injure her person. When she was around 8, she had been playing with a paper airplane and it just barely sliced her finger. It left behind a pesky papercut that stung. Bad. The small injury left Y/N guilty for days afterward. She has assumed that her soulmate was on the same page as her for the longest time. Aside from a few skinned knees (they were kids after all,) Y/N was left unscathed. She went on her days carefree until she was about fifteen.

It seemed as though Y/N’s soulmate had completely changed their deminer overnight. It started with a bit of road rash on her palms. Y/N assumed they had fallen accidentally. Annoying, sure, but it was more than manageable. Then, her lip split open and bled for almost 15 minutes.

As the week went on, large bruises started appearing on her legs and hips. Maybe the road rash fall was worse than she initially thought. Again, she just rode it off as clumsiness. It wasn’t long until her fingertips started to turn purple. This made Y/N panic.

“Ma’am?” Y/N interrupted her science teacher in the middle of her lecture, “I think there’s something wrong with my hands.” The purple started to spread down her fingers towards her knuckles. They also proved to be getting harder to move.

“Oh, dear, you’re freezing.” Ms. Adamson remarks, taking Y/N’s hands into her own.

“What’s happening? Am I dying?” Her entire hand was now numb.

“I don’t think so, Miss L/N, but, it’ll help you and them out if we warm you up.”

Her toes suffered the same fate, she discovered during a visit to the school’s infirmary. (Which wasn’t even worth visiting in Y/N’s opinion.) The nurse at Y/N’s school didn’t have the “jurisdiction” to help Y/N properly, so she had to settle for a wet paper towel that was warmed in the microwave. Y/N just wished to be sent home instead. By the time she was finally set free, the purple had faded but her skin tone was not back to normal. Hopefully, the paper towel did something for her soulmate cause this sure as hell wasn’t Y/N’s fault. Her parents were flabbergasted when she got home, mostly upset that they made her miss so many of her classes. Neither had any explanation but tried to offer unhelpful comforting all the same.

When Y/N awoke the next morning, all of the fingers in her hand had gone back to normal and she regained feeling. Finally, her soulmate was finally safe.

She spent the day coming up with ridiculous reasons as to why they had almost given her frostbite. Maybe they got locked in a freezer at an ice cream store and had to wait for the store to reopen to let them out. Maybe they live in Antarctica and they got locked out of their house in their underwear. Maybe they were trying to win a bet to see who could stay in ice water the longest. The daydreams were cut short as she was harshly awoken by a searing pain in her abdomen.

Ms. Adamson dropped her whiteboard marker and panicked when she heard Y/N scream. It wasn’t a normal teenage girl scream either. No, this scream was filled with pure agony and distress. It echoed against the walls and vibrated the desks. It sounded as if she was getting murdered. Y/N fell to the floor and landed in a big heap. The scientist hurriedly ran towards Y/N and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the teen’s blood pooling on the linoleum floor. It appeared she had been stabbed, by the looks of it.

Pointing at various other students to do various tasks, call an ambulance, call the office, and to go get another teacher, she took hold of Y/N’s hand.

“It’s going to be okay,” She whispered, “You’re going to be fine. Keep your eyes open for me.”

Y/N felt very odd. Was this what dying felt like? She felt as though she was underwater; she could hear Ms. Adamson but her voice was muffled and she couldn’t make anything out. Y/N felt dizzy and sick at the same time, all she wanted to do was shut her eyes. So she did. Relief filled her as quickly as the pain. Her wound felt cold as if someone was pushing a damp cloth onto it. The pain lessened and lessened until there was none at all.

Five years later she had almost forgotten about what had happened. Almost. In the years that followed the incident, severe gashes and bruises had become a normal occurrence. Her body was riddled with what seemed like battle scars, and she was almost always on edge. She had no way of knowing what was going to happen to her, nor when it was going to happen. This felt really unfair. She had been so careful for them, but they treated themself like a rag doll.

Much to her delight, when she hit eighteen all of the injuries suddenly stopped. The last injury she had received was a dark black bruise that covered her entire side, then nothing. It had been two years and all she got were papercuts and burned tongues.

“Take a break,” Y/N’s roommate grabs the pen out of her hand and places it on the desk. “You’ve been working on that for ages, come get coffee with me.”

Y/N was currently in her third year at Cambridge University, working on her undergraduate biology degree. For her degree, she had to take organic chemistry and it was, in simple terms, kicking her ass. Her professor is shitty, the work was hard and Y/N was losing motivation.

“I can’t. If I stop I’ll fail the final, then fail the class then never graduate.” Y/N mumbles, picking up her pen again and scribbling something down.

“That’s not true, just come with me. Please?” “I said no, Y/B/F/N.”

“What if you take your books with you? A change of environment might help you study.”

Y/N leans back in her chair and looks up at her roommate. Maybe she had a point, it might do her good to get out a little bit. She packs her things and the two make their way to the coffee shop.

The coffee shop on campus was small and always packed. The school preferred to call it “cozy,” but still, it’s small. Surprisingly, there weren’t many people inside.

“Most people must’ve already left campus for break,” Y/B/F/N said, seemingly reading your mind.

Only three of the tables had students sitting at them. One in the far corner had a girl who looked to be a very frustrated first year, huddled over a croissant and an English textbook. A few tables down sat four boys and one girl. Each had books open and pens in their hands, but by picking up snippets of their conversation, they were talking about whether Voldemort or Darth Vader would win in a fight. Finally, near the window, sat a boy who was staring straight at her. She recognized him from a few of her general education classes. Y/N had never talked to this boy, but he was rather cute. He was wearing a crimson sweater and ripped jeans with converse, hair messily tossed to the side. Y/N couldn’t decide whether or not he was staring at her or was in a very deep thought so she waved. No wave back.

The two girls get their coffee and sit down a few tables away from the boy.

“Do you know that guy?” Y/B/F/N asks, moving her head towards crimson sweater.

“Not officially, I recognize him. Oh, what’s his name? I knew it at one point…” Y/N reaches into her bag and pulls out her books again, placing them on the table. As if it were a habit, she immediately starts studying again. She glances past her friend; the guy was still staring at that one spot.

Time passes fast for Y/N but slow for Y/B/F/N. She tried to speak with you but ultimately gave up. So, bidding you goodbye, she left to go find her boyfriend. Y/N was kind of relieved, she can finally study in peace. The big group also left, after fighting about whether a time turner should be illegal or not, so the cafe was left with an almost eery silence. So silent that you can hear every pencil scratch, every tap of a keyboard, and every gulp of coffee.

At some point, the boy had gotten up to get another cup of coffee and passed by Y/N. He was wearing a shit ton of cologne, so he left a scent trail wherever he went. Making his way back to his table, he tripped and spilled his coffee all over Y/N’s chemistry notes.

“No, no, no, no, no!!!!!” Y/N screeches, wiping away the coffee with her bare hands. The drink splashes onto the boy’s pants and shoes.

“Oh as- oh fuck, I am so sorry!” He grabs a wad of napkins and tries to blot the paper. She had worked on that study guide for hours, and now it was ruined. There was no way her professor would take it now. Thank god her laptop was still in her bag.

Panicked, Y/N picks up her notebook and starts flipping through it. Her pen marks were bleeding together and there was no way to save them. Coffee crimson boy grimaces and picks up the notebook.

“I don’t suppose this was an art class and you could turn it in as an abstract piece?” He says in a serious tone, though the words were highly sarcastic. Y/N lets out a single laugh.

“I wish it were, but no. O Chem,” Coffee crimson’s face contorts even more.

“Ouch, um, do you have it backed up anywhere?”

“Ah yes, I have my notebook backed up.” The previously broken ice was discarded and Y/N was frustrated again.

“You should have done it on your laptop.”

“And you should watch where the fuck you’re going.” Y/N snatches the notebook from his hand. Coffee crimson notices your tone and quickly backtracks.

“Hey, let me redo it for you then,” He glances at the textbook casually. “I’m sure I can figure it out.”

“And why should I trust you? I don’t know you and my grade is riding on this.”

“Okay, that’s fair,” His smile was warm. “I’m Edmund Pevensie, I’m in the prelaw program.”

“Oh, perfect, a law student that’s going to attempt my organic chemistry homework. Wonder what could go wrong.”

“I’m sure I can figure it out. Law is hard, maybe a different kind of hard, but still hard. I can do hard.”

“Take a shot every time sweater guy says hard. I feel like I’m at a frat party.”

“I’m trying to fix my mistake here,” Now Edmund is the one that looks frustrated. “Here, take my number. I’ll text you updates and meet you back here tomorrow.” He looks at the clock. Damn, he had a gorgeous jawline. “4:32 pm. Exactly 24 hours from now.” Edmund scribbles his number onto a napkin and hands it to Y/N. As he writes, she can’t help but notice a long, jagged scar running the back of his hand. She scrunchs her eyebrows.

Edmund actually kept his word. Every hour until four am that night he sent Y/N updates. Goofy pictures of him googling stupid questions or him writing. He sent a video that gave Y/N a perfect shot of the scar. Curiously, Y/N looks down at her own hand.

The next day, his photo updates started coming again. This time they were more serious, showing the study guide. He ended up putting his own commentary in the margins; some funny some that made her think of the material differently. Y/N could really tell he was smart, even by his handwriting.

He sent a picture to Y/N at 4:25 of the table in the coffee shop. “I’m early” was sent at the exact moment Y/N opened the door.

“Wow, I’m impressed. I didn’t actually think you’d show.” Y/N sat opposite of him and smiled. He was wearing the same (coffee stained) jeans as yesterday and a button-up shirt.

“I wouldn’t do all that work for nothing,” He smiled again and handed Y/N a new notebook she had never seen before.

As she gripped the pages, the corner dug into her palm and cut her.

“Ow!” The two said at the same time. They both had a thin cut in the middle of their palms. His large brown eyes met Y/N’s and they stared for a moment. Y/N then grabbed his hand and pushed up his sleeve to show the scar going up the back of his hand. Y/N couldn’t look away from his skin; just as she had thought, it was identical to hers.

Meeting his gaze again, she pressed a hand to her stomach. Her hand rested right above a large, jagged scar that didn’t seem to heal quite right. His eyes followed the line of her arm.

“Edmund, I think you have a lot of explaining to do.”

#edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund x reader #the chronicles of narnia #narnia #edmund pevensie fanfic #edmund pevensie fanfiction #the chronicles of narnia fanfic #the chronicles of narnia fanfiction #soulmate #soulmate au

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drakeandkatherine · 3 years

Text

Reunion- Ch 2: alstroemeria (Drake x MC TRRAU FanFic)

Hello! I am so excited to show you guys the second chapter to Reunion!

I’m sorry this took sooooooo long to upload. My personal life has been super hectic lately, and I haven’t had time to really write!

(Drake, Liam, Hana, Maxwell and any other The Royal Romance characters belong to Pixelberry! Katherine Delacroix belongs to me!)

Series Overview: Reunion is a short series about Drake Walker and Katherine Delacroix, along with their friends, Maxwell, Hana and Liam. In this series, we see the gang at a high school reunion, five years after they’ve graduated. There will be flash backs, taking place up to nine years ago (the start of high school) up to when they graduate. You’ll get to see how the gang came together, and how they fell apart, only to come back together, and the main focus is how Drake and Katherine come back to each other after years apart.

All chapters of this series are named after flowers, with certain meanings. This chapter is named “alstroemeria”. It has meaning of friendship, love, strength and devotion. They're often thought to represent mutual support. And the ability to help each other through the trials and tribulations of life. This chapter, it flashes back to where the group of five became friends.

Word count: 1578

Warnings: adult language, mentions of death and drinking

Tags: @burnsoslow @drakewalker04 @marshmallowsandfire

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters!

Katherine and Hana spent the rest of their first day back after five years in Cordornia preparing for the next night. They tried to plan out just how long they would stay and who they would talk too if those people showed up.

“Hana, are you really sure we should be there that long? I feel like two hours is more than enough time to say hi, have a drink and get the fuck out of there.” Katherine complained as she fished for her pajamas in her suitcase.

“We came all the way here for this reunion, we might as well stay longer than two hours; possibly even the whole time, Kat.” Hana said, a small chuckle escaping her lips. “Besides don’t you wanna see Olivia again?”

“I don’t really want to see much of anyone to be honest, Hana. I’d rather go get a couple drinks and maybe say hi to Olivia, if she even shows up and then I want to bounce.” The truth was, she did miss Olivia and all the fun nights the three had during junior and senior year, she just wasn't going to admit it.

Hana shook her head and continued to put away her clothes in the dresser that they shared in the room as Katherine changed into her pajamas. “Should we order room service?”

“I think a better question is, can we order alcohol?” Hannah laughed.

The next day as Katherine was preparing herself mentally, her mind wandered back to sophomore year of high school, the year that Hana and her became friends with a few others who soon had become the closest thing to family she had had in a long time. Family, she sadly remembered, that barely talked to her or Hana anymore.

8 years ago

Liam and Drake were two of the most popular boys at the high school. Both were star football players and in the winter, star basketball players. A lot of the girls tried their best to get the boys to notice them, but sadly none of their efforts worked. It wasn’t until one Saturday in detention that they met two other girls who would soon become their best friends, as well as another man who was known for his shenanigans.

“Alright, this is Saturday detention. All of you know why you are here. Your assignment for today is to write an 1000 word essay on how you recognize that your actions have consequences. I will be in my office which is just down the hall and I will come check on you periodically to make sure you are writing quietly. Once the bell rings at 3 o’clock, you’ll be dismissed and can go home for the day.” Dean Constantine told the teenagers, a strict tone in his voice.

All of the students rolled their eyes but complied nonetheless. After about an hour of trying to focus on anything other than the assignment, a tall boy with sandy brown hair finally spoke, breaking the silence that hung in the room.

“All right, I’m kind of over the silence. Not sure if anyone else is, but hey guys, I’m Maxwell. I’m in here because I made a stink bomb in science class and the teachers weren’t so happy about it and neither were the other students.” He smiled triumphantly as if he was proud.

“That was you? I’ll never be able to get that smell out of my nose. Good job.” Katherine smiled. “I’m Katherine and I’m here because Hana,” she paused and pointed to Hana who sat next to her. “and I decided to go off campus for lunch and they found out and caught us when we were coming back.” She looked at the two boys sitting side-by-side a few rows behind them in the classroom. “What about you two?”

“Someone on the junior varsity team was giving me some lip, so, I punched him in the lip.” The darker haired boy said, holding up his hand to show the bruises on his knuckles. Katherine eyed him, wondering how strong he was.

“I got in trouble because I tried to break up the fight but the coach thought I had helped start it, so thanks to this one I am in yet another Saturday detention.” He playfully shoved his friend.

“Oh please, Liam. You would’ve been here regardless just because your dad makes you come here.” Drake laughed.

“Who’s your dad?” Hana asked.

“Well as Drake so helpfully mentioned, my dad would put me in Saturday detention regardless because it’s his way of keeping an eye on me. My father is the dean of the school, Dean Constantine.” Liam said, a somber look on his face.

“No shit, are you serious?!” Katherine asked, her eyes wide.

“Sadly.” Liam replied, expression flat.

“So what you’re saying is that you can leave whenever you want because you’re just gonna be here next Saturday anyway? Why are you here then?”

“Let’s just say it would be hell at home if I ditched.” Liam grimaced.

“And what would he do to us if we just got up and left?” Katherine asked, Hana giggling next to her.

“He probably would just give you guys another Saturday detention to be honest. Most of the students here never do anything that would require suspension or expulsion.” Drake explained.

“I think it would be wise if you guys just got through this day and not provoke the beast.” Maxwell chimed in, not wanting to get into any more trouble, as he was in Saturday detention almost as often as Liam.

“Really? Because I say that when it gets to lunch time we all sneak out, get past him and then ditch this place and go to the beach or something.”

“Katherine as much as I love that idea I really don’t wanna have another Saturday detention. My parents would literally kill me.” Hannah said with a frown on her face.

Katherine didn’t much care what happened to her but she did care what happened to her best friend, so, even though it frustrated her and as much as she wanted to leave this hellhole, she nodded, agreeing, before saying “You’re right, Hana, we should probably just stick it out and then go back to my house.” She looked at the three men surrounding them. “I know we just all met each other but you guys are welcome to come with us to my house afterwards. My grandma is a nurse and she works mostly night shifts so she’ll be gone, meaning we can raid the liquor cabinet.” Last year, Katherine would have never asked this to anyone besides Hana. Becoming friends with Hana had made her enjoy life again, made her want to make friends again.

“You drink?” Liam asked, sincerely.

“Usually Hana and I will sneak a couple drinks sometimes but we don’t usually drink.”

“Well if your grandma has some whiskey, I’d be down.” Drake said. “My old man, before he passed, would drink whiskey all the time. Sometimes he would let me have a little sip. I always told myself once I was old enough I have glass in his honor.”

Katherine’s felt tugs on her heart strings. She felt for Drake since, she too, knew the pain of losing a parent. The difference is that she lost both of hers. Though she didn’t really know him so she didn’t know if his mom was still in the picture.

“All I know is is that I don’t want to deal with my brother when I get home so I'm gonna go where you go, Katherine.” Maxwell said, saluting her as if she was the group’s leader.

“And then there was one.” Katherine smiled at Liam.

“Well I have nothing better to do and it’s better than going home to my dad who's always in a bad mood, so, sure I’m down.” Liam smiled softly, a hint of sadness showing before he quickly looked away, hiding his emotions.

“All right, it’s settled then. After we get out of here we will follow Katherine back to her place and we’ll have a good time.” Hans said, clapping in her hands in excitement.

As soon as 3 o’clock came around and the bell dismissed them, Katherine took off running as soon as she was out the door, the rest running close behind her. ”Come on guys, what are you? A bunch of snails?” Katherine laughed as she ran on ahead.

Drake and Liam quickly caught up to her. “You wish we were snails. Not our problem you decided to choose a race between two star football players.” Drake smirked. Maxwell caught up to them a minute later saying “And I’m on the track team!”

Katherine slowed down matching Hana’s pace, chuckling. “Jokes on them, they don’t know where I live.” The girls laughed when the men came to a stop, wondering where they were going. Katherine then proceeded to show them the rest of the way to the house and instead of running they walked.

Present

“Hey, Kat, are you okay?” Hana’s voice snapped Katherine out of her memories. She turned her head and looked at her best friend in the entire world, who had a worried look on her face.

“I’m just having a little anxiety about tonight. What am I going to say to him if he shows up?” Katherine said, panic showing on her face. If he showed up, she didn’t know what she would do. Katherine wasn’t sure if she was ready to face the reality of what happened to them.

“I think you’ll know when the time comes. I can’t tell you what to say, it wouldn’t be authentic.” Hana gave her a small smile. “Now come on, it’s time to put on your make up and get dressed!” Katherine threw a pillow at her, making both of them laugh.

“Okay. Let’s do this.” She said, rising from the bed and walking to the bathroom to start her make-up. Katherine wasn’t sure how tonight would go, but she couldn’t run anymore. She had to finally face him.

#drake walker #drake x mc #katherine delacroix mc #katherine delacroix #the royal romance #the royal heir #liam rhys #maxwell beaumont #hana lee #olivia nevrakis #the royal romance fan ficiton #trr fan fiction #trr au

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