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ticktokrobotsnot · 10 months

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Hurricane

This is part 1. You can read part 2 here.

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader

Summary: The upcoming bachelor party that Carmen has to cater causes some tension between him and y/n.

Word Count: 9.5k

warning: alcohol, mentions of throwing up out of nervousness but no one actually does, or even comes close, fighting, smoking

Three hundred thousand dollars, what kind of fucking moron takes out three hundred thousand dollars just to blow his brains out and let his younger brother foot the bill. What kind of cosmic douche does that to another person? Y/n would never say something like that out loud but she certainly was thinking it after Carmen told her about the debts that he apparently owes on top of the bills he had yet to pay. In fact, Carmen was barely scraping by, he cut his pay check till all he had was enough to cover rent and the bare bones necessities. Rather than cut anyone’s pay, or cheaping out on ingredients, he sacrificed almost everything for this restaurant, for his brother. And what did his brother leave him? A three hundred thousand dollar bill. Once again, what a dick.

“It’s not-” Carmen started. “It’s fixable.”

Y/n didn’t say anything, she continued to scrub the stop top and kept her face neutral when in reality her blood was boiling. It’s not her debt and she is completely free to run away before this ship sinks but she couldn’t help but stay. She had convinced herself that the reason she stayed was because this horrible and completely fucked restaurant was like a train wreak, you can't help but stand and watch it crash and burn. Definitely not because of any other personal reasons.

“We just have to keep our heads down and get through the year and we can get some money off of our tab.”

More silence.

They both knew it was a pipe dream, no matter what they did at the restaurant, they could only make an insignificant dent towards the impending debt. Y/n didn’t want to be negative when Carmen was doing his best to not crumble under the pressure so she looked up with a small smile. She wondered if the smile translated as an optimistic smile or a pity smile.

Carmen sighed, leaned against the wall and rubbed his face with his palms in an effort to wipe away some tension. Looks like it translated as a pity smile.

“Tell me something good, y/n.” Carmen mumbled through his hands.

It was like the words were lost in her mouth. What could she possibly say? What collection of words makes this shitty situation any better? The answer is none, sometimes words mean nothing. No amount of consoling or baseless optimism could make this situation look good. If you can’t make a shitty situation look good then you should at least make a shitty solution look good.

“At least you have those bachelor parties, you can knock off a few grand.” Y/n offered.

“Yeah,” Carmen agreed half-heartedly. Looks like she couldn’t make the shitty solution look good either. Y/n gave herself one more attempt to lighten the mood before she sewed her mouth shut, crawled into a hole and died.

“And let's not forget that your “loan shark” is your uncle and he won’t smash your kneecaps.” Y/n jokingly muttered, “Probably?”

Y/n heard Carmen exhale through his nose. Y/n lives to speak and live another day. After testing the waters for the past few months, y/n realized that in order to get Carmen to stop going into crisis mode she had to either talk about a solution or completely distract him.

“What's the payment situation going to be like? …What is the interest?”

“No …no interest, just a clean 300k.”

“That's fair, adding interest on a loan like that would be like throwing shit in a septic tank. When is the bachelor party?”

“Uncle Jimmy is coming by tomorrow to give the details for that stupid fucking party.”

One quality that has persisted through out the years was y/n ability to not know when to shut the fuck up. The trait was helpful when filling the silence between the both of them. Carmen liked to listen more than talk, he didn't have anything to talk about except depressing shit. So when the air was filled with anxiety and tension y/n did what she did best, make a damn fool of herself.

“You think there's going to be strippers?”

Carmen looked up from his hands and gave out a laugh out of shock and it sounded like music to y/n ears. She wished she could record it, he really did have a nice smile and she wished he smiled more. Good god, he looked so… so…

“There will be at least strippers.” Carmen snickered while hiding his smirk behind his hands. It's like he knew she was waiting for it and was depriving her on purpose. This was a good learning moment for y/n though, shock humor lands well with Carmen.

Y/n moved on to scrubbing the floor because she wasn’t able to look Carmen in the eyes after asking, “Have you ever been to a strip club?”

She didn’t even have to look up to know what kind of look she was getting. She heard a bewildered laugh and looked up and was met with an amazing view. His head was thrown back and his hand was running through his hair.

For a brief moment, y/n tried to convince herself that all of the embarrassment she put herself through wasn’t worth it but after stealing a few glimpses of him she could confidently say it most definitely was.

“No I haven’t. You?” He then straightened his head and grabbed a towel and started scrubbing too.

“Of course, I've been. I used to work in one, you know?” Carmen’s head shot up.

“Yeah, but I needed a career change.”

“You worked in one? As a… dancer?” Carmen asked not quite being able to tell if this was a joke or not.

“You call strippers “dancers”? What are you, 90? No, I was not a “dancer.” I was a bartender.”

“Hmm” Carmen pondered before adding, “I knew you couldn't be one, I saw you slip on air this morning.”

“My lack of coordination aside,” y/n rolled her eyes jokingly, “I spent a lot of time seeing the routines and stuff and I could never, I can barely run a mile let alone swing around on a pole. Those strippers are stronger and braver than the Marines.”

“I have a cousin in the Marines,” Carmen added while scrubbing a particularly tough stain.

“Tell him that he’s a little bitch.”

Carmen stopped scrubbing and gwaffed into his fist. On the outside she looked normal but inside she was scratching the skin off her face in joy. She really wanted to seal the deal.

“Would you ever be a stripper?”

3-0 favoring y/n because Carmen looked up at her and laughed, and not a reserved one. A full one with an open mouth and red face.

Holy fuck… what the fuck was she doing? She could be home right now rewatching a nature documentary to unwind. She should be asleep right now. It's 12am and here she is sitting with her boss on the floor counting how many times she can make him feel good. And the worst part? She was enjoying herself.

“I don’t think I would make a good one.” He said as he moved closer to y/n and scrubbed at another scuff mark.

He would make a great one, y/n thought. He has huge arms, a quiet but powerful persona, a sculpted face, and beautiful eyes. Y/n had to resist the impulse to say that she would throw all her money at him right this second.

“It's your eyes.” Y/n humorously pondered, “They’re too intense, am I going to get a lap dance or am I going to get into a long and meaningful relationship?”

Carmen's gaze lifted towards y/n, and she wrestled the urge to lock her gaze with his mesmerizing cerulean eyes. She wanted to etch into her memory the way the yellowing lights danced upon his irises, as they transitioned shades, but the flutters in her stomach were making her woozy.

Y/n was a coward, so unsurprisingly she looked away, but not before stupidly adding, “You could add a blindfold to your act, I bet that would make the girls go wild.”

What in the flying fuck was she talking about, y/n screamed in her head. Y/n had some nerve calling The Beef a train wreck when she was watching herself crash and burn and not being able to stop herself. It felt like an out of body experience, like she was watching someone else fuck up her life.

Carmen looked like he was thinking about something and y/n wondered if she would have the courage to pick up her last check after she got her ass fired.

“Judging by the amount of shit I have to deal with in this stupid fucking place, being a stripper is starting to look more and more…” Carmen stared at y/n for a split moment, “tempting.”

Y/n was glad that he had inadvertently stopped her from saying something really stupid but she needed a quiet place all to herself so she could squeal like a teenage girl.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, y/n was starting to notice how close they were and in order to stop herself from getting a sued for sexual harassment she forced herself to call it a night, and that was a tough call to make. Y/n smiled at Carmen before softly mummering, “Carmy, you’ve got a big day tomorrow why don’t we get you home?”

Carmen's posture straightened, and a slight haze seemed to veil his eyes. Rising to his feet, he extended a hand towards y/n. In the instant their palms met, a surge of thoughts flooded y/n's mind, realizing how deeply she would miss this touch once they released. The fleeting moment barely allowed her to relish the sensation, leaving her with only a passing recollection of his hand—warm, calloused, and undeniably strong.

After grabbing their stuff from the lockers, y/n glanced at her phone that showed 12:14am. The walk home was going to be a real bitch. Carmen did one last walk through before leaving. Y/n could have left after she got her stuff but she stayed for a bit longer. She leaned against the windows of The Beef watching Carmen leave the restaurant and lock the door. He didn't look a bit surprised at her still waiting for him, he knew she would always be there waiting. It was a tradition, they would close up and he would walk y/n to her car. He would wait till y/n car was completely out of sight before he climbed into his car and drove to his place.

“Where did you park your car?” Carmen asked while shuffling through his bag to find his own car keys.

“My car is at the shop, I'm going to walk home.”

“You're going to walk home after dark? It's like 1 in the morning?”

“It's 12:30 and it's not that big of a deal, and if I get tired I'll just uber the rest of the way home.”

“That's how people get kidnapped, y/n”

“Don't worry, even if I do get kidnapped, I'll still miraculously make it to work on time tomorrow, and I'll have an epic tale to share for years to come." Y/n joked. "Why don’t I walk you to your car for a change? Where did you park?"

Carmen hesitated, not because he didn't want to offer a ride but because he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. It's just a ride home, it's not like ridesharing amongst coworkers is something new.

“Let me drive you home. This is not a great neighborhood.”

“My place is opposite from your place, I'm not going to hold you hostage. Go home, you have a big day tomorrow.” Y/n pulled up Google maps to see how long the walk would take, 35 minutes wasn't too bad.

“It's fine, I wasn't going to sleep right away anyways.”

Y/n shot a disapproving look. "Do you honestly think I was born yesterday? I mean, come on. You're planning to stay up late after a long day at work today and another one tomorrow?"

“Let me do this for you…Please.”

Y/n was contemplating beating his ass with one of the 2x4s lying around, how fucking dare he look at her like that when she is already holding her self back from jumping his bones. It was maddening. In that moment, the streetlight cast an ethereal glow upon his hair, transforming it into strands of pure gold. She couldn't deny the captivating effect it had on her. And that infuriating expression he wore, as if he had the power to make her surrender to his every whim, was driving her wild. If he had asked for her kidney with that look, she might have found herself on her knees, desperately clawing at her own abdomen to fulfill his request.

“Ok, thank you so much Carmen. You really are…kind.” Y/n tried not to look at his eye because she knew that she would feel another flutter and now she had an audience watch her throw up from overstimulation.

“It’s the least I can do.” Carmen didn’t have the courage to thank her for making him feel better about the restaurant’s financial situation so this was the best he could do.

They both walked to Carmen’s car in silence. Y/n had an unstoppable itch to fill the silence with some asinine conversation but she resisted. She knew as soon as she got home she would scream into her pillow for bringing up strippers and blindfolds to her boss, and she didn’t want to add more things to cringe about. They could be 85 and she would still pucker her face when remembering this night.

They finally walked up to Carmen’s car, and Carmen opened y/n’s door for her. Y/n had to keep from fainting right then and there, she was a grown woman and Carmen was doing the bare minimum by helping out an employee and here she was fighting a blush. He walked over to the driver side and started the car.

“You good?”

“Sorry.” Y/n hands were shaking from the nerves.

“I can't find the seat belt connector thing, it's too dark."

Carmen wordlessly grabbed the seatbelt from the base and trailed down the belt, softly grazing his knuckle on her collarbone before gently taking the buckle from y/n's hands and guiding it to the right place.

Y/n mumbled a soft thanks. They both looked away for a second, both of them completely floored by Carmen’s boldness. Y/n couldn’t take this anymore she needed to get out of here before she became a stuttering mess, “Let me look up the directions, I’m geographically blind so I need Google to tell me where to go. I've been working here for months and I still need someone to tell me to get home.” Carmen pushed his tongue against his cheek to stifle another laugh.

“Geographical blind”, who says that? That's literally the lamest fucking thing you could possibly say. Y/n was going to go home and watch a few meditation videos in the hope that she learns how to shut the fuck up.

The ride back was nice and quiet. Y/n was too tired to talk and she was starting to feel guilty for making Carmen drive her home, he should be even more tired than her. They finally pulled over to y/n’s place, and she sat in the car for a few seconds to ground herself before she looked over to Carmen who was looking straight through the windshield.

“Thanks again Carmen.”

“Will your car be back tomorrow?”

“The day after.”

“I’ll drop you off tomorrow then.”

“That's too much Carmen, You aren’t obligated to do this. I’ll just leave a little earlier so I can catch a train.” Carmen looked like he was not satisfied with that response. Y/n didn’t want to leave early because she liked her time alone with Carmen but she couldn’t keep imposing.

“I’ll drop you off, it's not a big deal.” He left no room for negotiation.

Y/n smiled at him before grabbing her purse. Carmen got out of the car and walked around to y/n’s side to open her door. Y/n got out with as much grace as a toddler, she really needed to go to bed.

“Carmen, you really are too… you're just too…” Y/n struggled to find a good enough word before mindlessly blurting out, “Good.”

Y/n couldn’t see his face because the streetlamp was too far to illuminate his face so she didn’t know if she made him uncomfortable.

“Thanks again, I’ll see you tomorrow Carm.” Y/n softly mumbled before walking into her building and while waiting for the elevator she saw that Carmen was still leaning against the car door. She gave him a small smile not seeing if she got one back. The elevator ride up was filled with y/n jumping, dry heaving, and overall panic induced mayhem. The second hand embarrassment was too much. The elevator dinged and she went into her place and looked out the window to really burn the memory into her brain. This is the exact date and location where Carmen dropped her off.

She was surprised to see that he was still there. Everyone at work knew what apartment building she lived in because she invited them over for dinner recently, so it wasn’t a surprise that he knew the general area on where to look for her apartment.

She flicked on the lights and picked up her phone to dial him and watched as his silhouette fumble around to find his phone.

Carmen spoke first, “I just wanted to make sure you…”

“I got home safe.” Y/n opened her window before giving him a wave from five stories.

Y/n continued, “Go home, chef, I want to see you bright and early tomorrow.” She saw a blur of what she deciphered as a wave.

“Night y/n”

And with that y/n closed her window and Carmen drove off. It was 1 in the morning so she didn’t jump or scream into her pillow like she intended to because her neighbors would kill her. So she settled for a shower and eventually passed out.

Y/n was not a morning person my all means and told Carmen as an off handed comment a few months back. He offered her later hours so she didn’t need to come in super early for prep but she could stay to clean up. She got ready and got to the restaurant at around 11:30 am, where she found Carmen, Richie and an older man seated on a table at the far corner of the restaurant.

Before she could slip away to make herself busy in the kitchen, she was called over by the older gentlemen with a finger curl. Y/n turned around assuming that he was indicating someone else only to find that no one else was there but her. She looked over again and pointed at herself and Richie rolled his eyes before kicking the chair next to him to indicate that she was to sit. Y/n took off her headphones and sat across from the old guy and in between the cousins. Carmen looked up and wordlessly gave her a polite greeting.

If this was money problems why is this old fart calling me over?

Awkward silence.

“Good morning.” Y/n started.

“Morning, did Carmen fill you in?” Carmen’s “uncle” asked.

"I'd be delighted to put a name to your face. I'm y/n," she said with a warm smile.

“I'm Cicero…” Y/n pretended to look a bit puzzled, “Uncle Jimmy, yes, yes, Carmen told me you were coming today”

No one filled the silence so y/n stepped in.

“As much as I love the mystery, I do have work to do…so…why am I here?”

Cicero spoke up, “Carmy’s got that catering gig at that bachelor party on Friday and we were wondering if you would like to help.”

“Catering to a bunch of drunks on Friday night, seems like exhilarating” Y/n said sarcastically. “I'll be there. I’ve got to the kitchen, I shouldn’t leave Tina alone with my prep-”

“Look, I'm going to be honest with you…” Cicero continued, Y/n glanced sideways at both Richie and Carmen but they looked as confused as she did.

“Did you work out front a week ago?” Cicero asked.

“I covered for Richie on Tuesday?”

“One of the guys, the groom, saw you and thought you…looked…” It looked like he was embarrassed to finish what he wanted to say. “They want you to be there.” Cicero finished.

“This is what you were holding off on, we’ve been sitting here for 20 minutes in fucking silence so you could solicit a fucking chef?” Richie said in confusion before laughing and leaning back to glance at Carmen on the far right who was visibly livid, which caused him to laugh even more obnoxiously.

“Be there and do what?” Y/n pondered, a flicker of concern crossing her mind. She couldn't help but wonder if this was how human trafficking stories began. She wasn’t really paying attention to either Carmen or Richie, but she could feel that it was getting tense on her right, where Carmen was seated.

“I'm just going to rip off the bandaid. They want you there to serve drinks.” Y/n couldn’t hide the look of bewilderment and relief.

“Jesus, you were making it seem like I was going to have to sleep with them…Yes I can serve drinks. I’ll be there” Y/n got up from her chair and Cicero added.

“Do you know what a Hurricane Shot is, y/n?”

Y/n immediately sat right back down, she let out a laugh and she was in decent company because Richie was also dying right next to her.

“They want that…” Cicero finished awkwardly.

Carmen looked up after trying to burn a hole into his table. “What the fuc-” Carmen fumed.

“What’s the pay like?” Y/n asked.

“Without you 5k, with 10k”. That made Richie stop laughing.

“Let me think about it.”

Y/n got up and walked out back. She stole a quick glance at Carmen who was sharing some choice words with his “uncle.” Y/n thought that she might as well get back to work. She was going to serve drinks no matter what but she had a feeling that she would get some resistance.

The rest of the shift was relatively slow and Carmen was in his office for most of the day. Around 8, it looked like there weren't going to be any more customers so Carmen finally got out of his cave and let everyone leave early. He stood with his back straight and arms crossed in front of his office, his eyes narrowed at y/n. Y/n thought she could not deal with the brunt of this confrontation by herself, so she looked at Richie trying to nonverbally communicate for him to stay. Luckily, Richie understood and stayed and it was just the three of them alone at the restaurant.

Carmen went inside and it was implied that the both of them should follow.

“I'm going to serve at that party.” Y/n whispered.

“Yeah, no shit you are.” Richie agreed while whispering a lot less quietly.

“It's 10 grand.” Y/n reasoned

“Who says no to 10 fucking grand?” Richie exclaimed.

They both walked over to the office. Y/n stood against the wall, it felt like she was being sent to the principal's office.

The silence was killing y/n so she started, “It's just one day.”

“Only a few hours” Richie offered

“Which is basically just a few minutes.” Y/n reasoned.

“Which is really just a few seconds.” Richie added.

More silence.

“It's a lot of money cousin, and y/n is up for it.”

“Yeah, 10k in a few hours. I mean it would be totally crazy to say no.” Y/n remarked.

“You would be fucking crazy to say no.”

“Yeah, Carmen, it would be pure idiocy to say no.” Y/n chimed in.

Carmen rubbed his temple and then looked up. “That is not happening. You aren’t doing this.”

“It's 10k, Carmen, and all I have to do is pour some drinks. It's like money is just falling on our laps, we have to take advantage of this golden opportunity.” Y/n added, “God helps those who help themselves.”

“You're religious?” Richie questioned

“No, but he’s Italian and they're religious, right? I thought it might help my case.” Y/n whispered.

“I can fucking hear the both of you.” Carmen was annoyed and y/n realized she didn’t really know how to convince him to let her help him.

“What specific issue do you have with me bartending at this party?” If she got to the root of the problem she could find a solution that helped ease his worries.

Carmen brooded in his corner. People didn’t give Richie enough credit, he was pretty good at reading a room and he knew that it would be better if he left Carmen to y/n.

“I got something tonight.” Richie spewed out before turning around to get the hell out of there. As he was about to leave he mouthed You got this? Y/n gave him a subtle thumbs up.

They both stood in silence hearing the sounds of Richie walking around the kitchen to grab his keys and get his charger in the front, and eventually the door chimed meaning that it was now just Carmen and y/n.

“Tell me what the issue is. Do you have safety concerns?”

“That's one of many concerns.” Carmen knew he was being difficult but he couldn’t let this happen.

“I'm just pouring drinks, I'm not going to be doing anything super dangerous.”

“You are going to be pouring drinks for coked out dickheads. How is that not dangerous?”

“It’s nothing I haven’t done before. Besides, your uncle told me that I'm going to be giving hurricane shots, if anything I'm the dangerous one.”

Carmen looked up and furrowed his eyebrows. “Do I even want to know what that is?”

“You don’t know what it is?” Y/n had to resist snickering. “So basically, you would take a shot, then I would splash water on you and slap you…Do you want to see a video?” Y/n ushered Carmen to the only chair in the office.

Carmen didn’t know why he was humoring this and he didn’t want to admit it but he was wondering what the appeal of getting slapped was. If it's just slapping a few guys then maybe it wasn’t too bad…

Y/n pulled up a video and any bit of him that could have been convinced to let this happen shriveled up and died. It was a video of a woman in a very revealing dress sitting on a table splashing and slapping horny middled aged fucks. Absolutely not.

Y/n looked up from the video and saw that she made it worse. Carmen was sitting silently in his worn out chair, not even looking at the video just staring at the floor.

Carmen felt a hand on his shoulder and felt y/n come closer, he could feel her breath on his neck and it was making it hard to breathe. Softly, y/n whispered, “Carmen, you are being perfectly reasonable and very respectful but this is a once in a lifetime situation.”

A soft pause passed while y/n was trying to formulate the right words.

“You do so much for me so let me take care of you, Carmy.” Y/n rarely called him that and the name slid down his spine causing him to shiver.

Without even having time to think about what just came out his mouth, he mumbled a soft “yeah”. Carmen looked just as shocked as y/n. Neither of them were expecting that, y/n was expecting to have to postpone convincing him till tomorrow.

Now the next hurdle was making sure that Carmen didn’t change his mind. “Why don’t you stay with me during the party? That way if anything happens you'll be there. Will you be my designated bodyguard for the night, Carmen?" Y/n playfully feigned a pout, allowing Carmen to remain silent, sensing that he might need some space to process the request

She slipped out before taking a deep breath, Jesus that was stressful. People killed each other for 10k and he was just going to throw it away. Y/n wasn’t going to let that happen, even if he said no she would have snuck into that party and got Carmen his 10k.

She surveyed the kitchen, it was spotless. There really wasn’t much to do because the other chefs had done most of it but she had a feeling that if she left Carman alone, he would change his mind. So, she did what she did every single day, scrub these stupid floors.

A few minutes had passed and y/n was wondering about what she should wear to an event like that? A small dress was a necessity but she only had a small black one from her college years. Would it even fit, it's been years since she last put it on? She needed to find her old pair of black pumps from college too, she knew they were deep in her closet. And while she scrubbed and planned her outfit for Friday, Carmen came out of his office and joined her wordlessly, taking the towel from y/n’s hands and scrubbing for her.

He finally looked up, “I will be by your side the entire time. You can’t go anywhere unless I can see you-”

“What if I have to use the bathroom?”

“No.”

“No?”

“What if some sleazy fucker is waiting in the bathroom?”

“I doubt it. But ok, I'll hold it.”

“You can't cross the counter.” Y/n wasn’t going to anyways.

“And I have to drive you home.” That stupefied y/n.

“What? Why?”

”What if one of those limp dicked pervs follows you home?”

“Carmen, you’re thinking too much. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I’m not letting you do this unless-”

“Alright Carmen. We will do this your way.” Y/n gave him a smile to show that they were good.

Carmen quickly glanced down and continued scrubbing the floor. The rest of the night was spent cleaning the floor and eventually neither of them could come up with any other excuses to stay together. There is only so much time you can spend scrubbing and organizing an already spotless kitchen.

They both went back to the lockers, grabbed their stuff, did a final walk through, and locked up. Carmen drove her home, y/n said goodbye through the phone and waved out the window. Y/n knew that this routine couldn’t last because she would pick up her car tomorrow morning but she was debating slashing a few tires just to make this last a bit longer.

The next day y/n came in at 11:30 and was pulled aside by Richie.

“Is it handled?”

“It's a bartending gig not an assassination. And yes.”

“That bastard said yes?” Shocked didn’t really cover what Richie felt.

Y/n shrugged her shoulders, “I know you wanna crack a few jokes but he is tethering and I don't want him to-”

“No wise cracks.”

“Also, the crew thinks I'm catering, could you keep the bartending underwraps.”

“Sure thing princess.”

“Do not-”

They were cut off by Fak and y/n took that as her sign to leave. Other than that, the day was exactly the same. The only other difference was that at the end of the night she had to walk to her car with Carmen.

“You can back out, you know. This debt is my brother's… and now it's mine. You shouldn't get involved in this shit show.”

“Do you feel like you're taking advantage of me?” Carmen didn’t say anything.

“How about you give me the day off tomorrow and we'll call it even. Paid leave.”

Carmen smirked, “That's not really even.”

“I'm giving you less than 24 hours notice and don’t even have a good reason to miss work tomorrow, I'm being a bad employee and you're going to let me get away with it. It seems plenty even to me.” They had ended their night relatively early, it was only 11pm and y/n wanted a few more minutes with Carmen, so she took a few wrong turns. Was that a selfish thing to do? Yes. But did it feel right? Also, yes.

They finally “found" her car. Carmen opened the door for her after she unlocked it. Y/n pulled out her parking spot and then drove off. But she didn’t forget to wave out the window and in the rear view window she could see that he was waving back. Y/n drove for a few minutes before double parking in an open street to rest her forehead on the steering wheel. She rolled up her windows and squealed. It felt good to be able to do that after holding it in for the last few days. She composed herself and drove home.

The next morning was brutal because she had to completely gut her closet to find that black dress and heels. After a few hours she found them in the same box that held her cap and gown. She laid them on her bed and then went to get a haircut. On her way back she saw a tattoo parlor and walked in and asked if they had any temporary tattoos lying around. They found one wedged between some binders, it was a large rose.

The night was quickly approaching and she had to leave soon. She had finished getting ready and right as she was about to leave she remembered the rose tattoo. Y/n ran to the skin, and peeled her dress up leaving her thigh exposed and placed the rose tattoo there. She grabbed a long black jacket and then she called an uber to take her to The Beef. The jacket covered up her cleavage but her legs were mostly bare and she regretted not wearing a pair of sweats for the commute.

The restaurant was closed slightly early but it still was pitch black when she got there. Richie and Carmen were finishing up moving chairs and tables. Y/n walked in and the chime alerted them that y/n had arrived.

“Hey guys. When does the party start? Am I too early?”

Carmen’s face betrayed nothing so she couldn’t really tell what he was thinking. Richie smirked, “The band of dickheads are coming in about 20 minutes.”

“Can I see what the booze situation looks like?” She got a short tour of what the food and drinks situation was going to look like. She hadn’t taken off her jacket because it was still a bit chilly.

“Carmen, can you turn up the heat?” Carmen walked over to the thermostat in his office to adjust it to y/n comfort. With only 5 minutes before the party was supposed to start, y/n thought she might as well take the jacket off.

“I feel a bit out of place, I'm the only one dressed up.”

Richie gwaffed,” Don’t worry you’ll be in good company with the strippers. Honestly, who's going to know the difference.” Y/n raised a cup of iced water to chuck at Richie.

“Hey, save that for our esteemed guests.” Richie said as he walked as far as possible to avoid getting splashed.

Just as y/n was about to tell Riche to fuck off, Carmen walked in. He took one look at y/n and spent the next few seconds trying to generate a coherent thought. The first wave of guests came in and Carmen lost his chance to say something but it's not like he could come up with anything marginally comprehensible anyways. In a few hours the party was in full swing. Richie was sitting in the kitchen but the thumping music, the smell of booze, the reverberating sound of obnoxious drunk laughter was giving him a migraine so he went outside for an hours long smoke break, he wondered how Carmen was doing.

Carmen was not doing fine, he was doing horrible. The lights, music, and dancing were making him nauseous. But the thing that really tested his patience was the guys ogling at you. Y/n wasn’t really paying attention to any of the guys but they were getting more and more drunk.

The room was lit with purple and blue lights and it was difficult to tell what was happening, and even though he knew it was wrong that didn’t stop Carmen from taking a few peeks at y/n back side throughout the night. If the back was rendering him speechless he could only imagine what the front looked like. The thought that these piss pots were seeing her would send him into a blind rage but the fact that each one of them would get hit in the face made it a bit more digestible.

A guy came up to y/n, and Carmen walked right up to them to know why this fuckhead was talking to her. The groom had asked for the first hurricane shot. Y/n sent him away for a few minutes to give her time to set up. She turned to Carmen and gave him a mischievous smirk.

“Payback time.”

Even though they were in a very crowded room, y/n smirk made him forget it. It was a small and private gesture and no one else would be privy to see it. It was just for Carmen and no one else. That made him feel a bit better.

Y/n and Carmen filled up cups with very cold water just to make it hurt even more. Carmen started to put ice in the water and when y/n saw what he was doing she threw her head back to laugh. The laugh made his heart flutter but the feeling of her hand grasping him to ground herself sent a shiver down his back and it wasn't because both their hands were ice cold now.

The room was so loud that they needed to come close to the other’s ear just to hear each other.

“You gotta put a bit more ice in this one, Carmen ”

“Who’s getting this special order?” Carmen smirked, he was having fun.

“The groom of course. Why are you asking a stranger you meet once to slap you across the face when you have a fiancée at home? Also, what kind of sick fuck gets drunk, high, and a hand job from a stripper the week before his wedding? That level of dickbaggary deserves a face full of welts.” Carmen covers his mouth to hide his smirk.

“It's so tacky and…and…yuck. Hard pass.”

Carmen took that information and stored it in his vault; no drinking, drugs, or girls of any kind during his future bachelor party. He wasn’t going to do the last two anyways, but he never wanted y/n to feel “yuck” about him so he would sacrifice the alcohol for his own bachelor party.

“Have you seen the women here? Very pretty.” Y/n teased.

Y/n didn’t really know why she even brought it up, She spent the entire night facing the crowd and got an eye full of many tits and she knows Carmen’s witnessing the same scene. Being surrounded by a sea of stunning and jaw dropping women had triggered a sense of insecurity within her. Yet, she reminded herself that those women were there to captivate with their beauty, while her role was to serve food and drinks. And to be fair, some of her customers have dropped their jaws after eating her food, balancing the scales of admiration. As such, any lingering immaturity or jealousy dissipated into the air.

The source of unease wasn't the presence of other women, but rather Carmen himself. Y/n had previously worked at a strip club and hadn't experienced this level of jealousy before. But now, with Carmen by her side, she found herself questioning whether he was comparing her to the other women at the party. Did she even register on his radar amidst the crowd? While their relationship remained strictly that of coworkers and friends, she appreciated that Carmen hadn't abandoned her. However, she couldn't help but feel conflicted about his presence, as she didn't want him to witness the spectacle of beautiful women giving drunk idiots lap dances.

Carmen looked up at her while his head was still bent down filling cups with ice, “Uhh, I haven’t really taken a look.”

Y/n doubted that but she didn’t want to protest, so she hid her insecurity behind jokes.

“You should, Mrs. Berzatto could be in this crowd.”

“I can guarantee you that they are not.” Carmen pushed. Y/n chuckled and Carmen could swear he saw her eyes glow.

“Hey, today has probably been really stressful. You can let go for a bit. You know, blow off some steam. There are plenty of women who would love to give you a lap dance. You know that pretty blond has been eyeing you since she came in.” Y/n pointed in some general direction with a straw but Carmen didn’t even look up from the water cups.

Carmen looked into y/n’s eyes and was trying to decipher this puzzle she had put in front of him. She was telling him to go and talk to other women and even though her tone, face, and behavior was exactly the same as before, he couldn't shake off a faint undercurrent of tension emanating from her

“I like it here.”

“So you like to watch.” Y/n smirked while turning around to fill a styrofoam cup with sprite from the soda dispenser to cool herself. She was trying to be cool but it was coming off as vaguely threatening, she needed to get her shit together.

Carmen turned around so he was facing her direction then placed his elbows on the counter and looked up at her with those killer eyes, “Yeah I do.”

“Mr. Berzatto, have you been drinking you’ve gotten, dare I say, bold?”

Carmen raised his eyebrows in a joking manner and y/n could swear that she saw stars glisten in his irises. God, was he handsome or what?

“I think it's time to get this show on the road.” Y/n turned around to walk around the counter so she could hop on top, she couldn't do it from behind the counter because it was filled with liquor and cups and she would knock everything over. Just as y/n was going to walk out the counter, a muscular arm blocked her from leaving. She furrowed her eyebrows, and looked up at his eyes.

“You promised, you wouldn’t.”

“I can't get to the counter from here…why don’t you walk me over there, so that no one bothers me. Earn your keep bodyguard” Y/n softened her eyes to convince Carmen, and to her surprise he let out a sigh before removing his arm and leading her to the other side of the counter glaring at anyone who even thought about looking at y/n. Y/n’s dress was so tight and short that she couldn’t really get up without flashing everyone. She looked up at Carmen and told him about the situation she was in and how she needed a chair or something.

Carmen brought his face close to y/n so she could clearly hear, “Can I touch you?”

Holy…mother…of…fuck. Y/n’s brain flat lines and she stumbles out a quick and breathy “yes”.

Carmen put his hands on her waist and y/n linked her hands behind his neck and just as y/n was about to close the gap, she let out a yelp as she was hoisted onto the counter. She is starstruck, her heart is beating fast and she is resisting the urge to kiss him from up here. She had to remind herself that he was just being helpful.

"Tattoo?"

Y/n was a mess and she needed a few seconds to understand what he was saying, "It's fake, so that if anyone takes any pictures I can pretend it's not me." It took all of y/n's will power to connect these words together. It was getting hard to think.

Carmen took one more look at y/n stradling the counter before reaching over the counter to grab the same straw y/n used to point at some other women, and lighty dragged it across her knee.

“Your past the counter, chef”

Y/n was in a daze, her knee felt like it was on fire and that was just from a straw. She wordlessly got up on her knees and kneeled on the counter.

Carmen walked right back to behind the counter and passed her a heavy cup.

“For our guest of honor.” Carmen grinned. He was making her lose her breath, y/n was going to pass out and fall off this counter.

Y/n took the cup of water and a shot of tequila from Carmen. Their pinkies brushed each other and sent an electric shock up her arm.

“Make it hurt.”

Y/n gleamed. She turned towards the crowd and shouted out a short introduction before calling over the groom. She passed him the shot which he downed in record time, y/n shot a quick glance at Carmen, before splashing the water right on his face and just and he slightly relaxed his face from the original impact of the icy water, y/n gave him a loud and painful slap. The sound echoed through the restaurant, and it became silent for a brief second before cheers erupted from the crowd. The noise makes Richie peek his head inside to see what the commotion was about. The groom's face was already bright red from the alcohol and the ice and somehow the right side of his cheek looks like someone painted it scarlet, y/n gave a thumbs up to Carmen, who to her surprise returned one back. A line began to form and while y/n was making everyone pay for being annoying dicks, Carmen called over Richie.

“Its fucking boiling in here” Carmen commented, “Can you go into my office and turn the thermostat down to like 60-65 and grab my jacket.” Richie looked like he wanted to make some smart comment but the sound of another slap echoing derailed his train of thought. Richie took one look at y/n, and Carmen wanted to curse him out and punch him across the face, but he refrained. “Richie, the fucking thermostat.”

Richie complained but Carmen wasn’t paying attention and so he left and turned the thermostat down and threw the jacket over the counter.

“When is this shit show supposed to end?” Richie asked while judging the guests in the most unsubtle way possible.

“Two more hours.” Carmen said while looking at y/n. Richie rolled his eyes and left and Carmen was starting to feel the cold air coming from the air vent on top of them. Y/n was starting to feel chilly too and looked over at Carmen who was already handing her a nice wool jacket, his wool jacket. She slipped it on and Carmen felt like he could finally breathe. He was beating himself for not coming up with something like this sooner. The stupid shots were finished and y/n was ready to come down from the counter.

“My ass and thighs are numb.” Y/n said while rubbing them. Just as she looked up towards the crowd she saw that Carmen was right next to her ready to help her come down. Y/n was feeling bold, almost invincible from spending the last 30 minutes slapping men.

“Would you like a shot?” She asked with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve seen a million guys take it, aren’t you curious?”

Carmen was struggling to come up with something to say, he didn’t even know how to react. “I have to drive you home.” His stare was making y/n feel like she was burning from the inside.

“A shot of water?” y/n offered.

Carmen thought to himself, what would he regret more? Taking the shot or not taking it?

He extended his hand towards the water pitcher behind the counter to pour himself a shot of water. Y/n grabbed one of the ice cups and scooped the ice with her left hand and dumped half of the remaining water on the already flooded floor. She wanted to avoid making this as painful as possible. Y/n took off the jacket and set it down on the counter next to her. She tucked her right hand in between her thighs to keep them warm so it would sting a lot less. Carmen took one long look at where her right hand was settled and then locked onto her eyes,

“Hit me with your best shot, chef.”

Carmen downed the shot before locking eyes with y/n. Y/n splashed the water on his face and gave him a solid slap. Not as hard as the others were getting but not so soft that she would be accused of chickening out. Carmen’s face whipped to the left before coming back to his previous position.

“How was that, chef?”

It must have been the lights or the fatigue but y/n could have sworn that he glanced at her lips. Carmen’s hands circle around y/n waist to bring her down. He carried her a few feet away from where they previously were so that y/n wouldn’t step on the puddle, set her down and walked her back behind the counter.

“I can understand the appeal.” Carmen murmured. Y/n looked at him incredulously before laughing in shock.

Y/n was about to tease him a bit before she heard shouting from the crowd. “Do you want to step out? I think I need a break”

Carmen welcomed a break. He handed y/n his jacket and ushered her outside where Richie was smoking. They had forgotten he was still there.

“It's nauseating in there.” Y/n exhaled.

Carmen pulled out a cigarette in an effort to calm down. They were no longer in a party where they could pretend they had no outside obligations. He had pushed the bounds of their relationship and he wondered if the lights, music, alcohol, and seclusion together was only affecting him. He closed his eyes and inhaled. Y/n crouched down because her feet were killing her. She could feel the blisters forming but she was going to be a trooper. All she wanted to do was lay down. Carmen crouched down to match her height and raised his eyebrows to ask what was wrong.

“I need to go to bed.”

“20 minutes left. You can wait in the car and get some rest. I can cover for you.”

“I need to see this place after it’s cleared out. I think I forgot what it looked like before we had it packed with drunk chodes.” That earned her a snicker from both Carmen and Richie.

A sense of tranquil silence enveloped them, providing y/n with a much-needed opportunity to gather her thoughts. She realized that she had to prevent herself from getting lost in the overwhelming depth of Carmen's presence. It was becoming clear that she had two choices: either distance herself from him entirely or bridge the gap between them, instead of remaining in their current state of avoidance, where everything seemed to be ignored.

Just as she was about to turn over to Carmen to ask him if he was free tomorrow night, a loud thump was heard inside the restaurant followed by a crash. Next came the screaming. Y/n and Carmen stood up and looked inside the window to see what got Richie to rush inside.

“Shit” Carmen exclaimed before running inside to stop the groomsmen from fighting. A wave of women ran out. Y/n didn’t go inside till the noise died down, she knew she would just get in the way. She pushed the door open and saw some guy laying on the ground with a bloody head. She scrambled to find a towel from the counter and then applied pressure on his head. Carmen had already called 911 and Richie was just staring with his eyes wide and hand on his head.

The next few hours were a blur. The ambulance picked up the guy that was knocked out. The police came and took Richie, and everyone else was either taken by police for questioning or they left for the cops to get there.

Y/n and Carmen were the only ones left standing on the pavement with little to no energy left. It felt like their bones were the only things holding them upright. Y/n didn’t have the energy to fill the empty space. So the trick to shutting her mouth was being tired, she could save herself from a lifetime of embarrassment by working herself to the bone so she wouldn’t have the energy to make a fool of herself.

She started snickering which slowly devolved to full laughter, she held on to Carmen’s arm to steady herself. Y/n from 5 hours ago would never have touched Carmen under any circumstances unless he initiated it first but she was losing it. She was starting to feel light, like this wasn’t real. Like she didn’t see Richie bash some fucker’s skull in. Or that she spent the last few hours flirting with her boss just for nothing to come from it. Carmen could only just watch.

“Let's get you home.” Carmen slowly ushered her towards his car.

Y/n laughter died down. “I can’t go home, not with Richie in jail.”

“You need some sleep”

“And you don’t? Where are you going after this? Visiting Richie?” Carmen didn’t reply or look up at her.

Y/n went back inside, grabbed her black jacket and ran as fast as her shitty heels and blisters would let her.

"I'm ready," y/n exclaimed with determination, taking confident strides towards Carmen's car. Carmen watched, momentarily transfixed and still processing the whirlwind of the past few hours. Y/n had laughed heartily as a coping mechanism, but inside, Carmen felt a deep sense of anguish, fearing the possibility of losing yet another loved one. He yearned to join in the laughter, knowing he couldn't do it without y/n by his side. Shaking off his thoughts, he quickly jogged over to where y/n stood, matching her pace as they proceeded towards the car together.

The car ride was silent, as both of them were fighting the urge to sleep. They got to the police station and y/n was so out of it she barely understood what groomsman status was and what would happen to Richie when the police officer explained it to her and Carmen. They were led to a seating area where they had to wait. Carmen threw his body on the bench and y/n followed suit. It was chilly and Carmen was wearing a shirt, so she slowly slipped off the jacket to hand it over. She felt firm pressure on her shoulders preventing her from bringing the jacket down.

“Keep it on, it's cold here” Carmen muttered.

“I have a jacket”

“It's too light.” Carmen’s eyes were drooping. Y/n sat back on the bench and tried to sleep sitting down but it wasn’t working. Carmen’s eyes were already closed so she shifted on the bench and laid her head on his lap.

Once Carmen had confirmed she was fully asleep, he draped her thin black jacket over her legs and floated into unconsciousness.

Carmen was shaken awake and woke up in a jolt. He eye’s meet Richie’s and it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“Aggravated Assault.”

Carmen let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Carmen wanted to get up but he saw that y/n was laying on his lap. He gently slipped out from under her and carried her on his back to his car. He did his very best to ignore everytime that she dug her face deeper into his neck but he was still beet red when he gently placed her in the backseat and put her seatbelt on.

Richie watched but didn’t have any motivation to say anything but a simple, “You got yourself a girlfriend, Carmy?”

“We’ll see when she wakes up.”

Part 2

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

Text

After the almost end of the world, Steve tells Eddie that he can have a shower first.

It feels surreal that they’ve both made it here—that Eddie is standing in his hallway, leaving mud stains on the floor from his boots: remnants of The Upside Down mixed with normal dirt.

Steve almost wants to ask if he can walk around some more, create countless marks as proof of his existence; hell, even take his hand and run it down the beige walls.

Leave a trail, Steve thinks, through a fog of complete and utter exhaustion. So I know it’s real. So I can find my way back to you.

What he says instead is, “Try not to get your dressings wet.”

Eddie pauses on the stairs. Smiles. “Okay, nurse,” he says, and it’s a gentle tease if anything, his voice softened by tiredness.

He’s holding himself a little stiffly while turned to speak, his upper body almost at an angle.

Steve thinks about the jagged line down his side (“If the bats died, like, ten seconds later, you’d have—you asshole,” Dustin had rambled through tears, thumping Eddie on the arm); how Eddie had narrowly avoided a hospital stay. Thinks of the way Eddie tried to reassure Dustin, fiddling with the guitar pick hanging around his neck in a show of nonchalance—but Steve still saw how his hand shook.

“Guess I’m just a lucky son of a bitch, huh, Henderson?”

It shouldn’t have been luck; it should have been a guarantee. Steve should have ensured it.

Eddie makes his way upstairs with slow, heavy footsteps. Steve waits until he can hear the water running, then heads to the phone.

He’s used to this routine by now. Robin and Nancy first, as he knows they’ll pick up rather than their parents.

“Oh, thank god,” Robin had said when she answered the phone after Starcourt. “I thought it was a horrible dream.”

“Thank god?” Steve echoed, laughing.

“Yeah,” Robin said, quite seriously. “It was either I dreamed up everything alone, or we saw it all together.”

And Steve, touched beyond words, had called her a dingus instead.

Tonight, their phone call is much quieter.

“I’m home,” Robin says. “I love you.”

Steve’s hand clenches around the phone. “Love you too,” he whispers, and he ignores the warning sting in his eyes, because he doesn’t have time to—he still has so much left to…

“I’m home,” Nancy says. She adds, “Get some sleep, Steve,” in the fatigued tones of someone who will not be taking their own advice.

Eddie comes downstairs sometime during Steve’s phone call with Mr and Mrs Sinclair. He’s quiet; the only sign that alerts Steve to his presence is the faint smell of mint body wash.

When Steve hangs up, he has to take a breath, still clinging to the phone pointlessly.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asks quietly.

Steve breathes out. “Checking in,” he says.

He dials another number.

It began after Starcourt, the Sinclairs having bought the excuse that Steve had been trapped with Erica in a broken down elevator as the ‘fire’ began—technically true, Steve had thought, just in the wrong order.

Their conversation had been all anxious tones, all, You were there, Steve, what exactly…? Should we be worried that…?

And he gets good at it, at bridging the gap between worlds: keeping the full truth from parents, but giving them just enough information, little things that go beyond the surface level cover story, that somehow help put their mind at ease—cultivating the sense that Steve is the witness, the one being honest with them.

Christ, he’s tired.

The call with Max’s mom is hard. She’s still at the hospital, and technically there’s nothing to really worry about (Max’s arm had a clean break), but that doesn’t change how it all felt, how she shook with pained sobs as Steve tucked her into his side.

“She’s sleeping now. She said you were with her,” Susan tells him, voice low. “Steve, I’m—I’m so grateful.”

But I wasn’t, Steve thinks. Not when it mattered.

He doesn’t realise that he’s still holding the phone after the call has ended until Eddie takes it from him and puts it back in the cradle.

“Hey, can I, uh, use the phone? Wanna call my uncle,” Eddie says.

Steve doesn’t mention the fact that Eddie has already spoken with his uncle, that Steve had overheard him fighting tears in the hospital as he called the plant where his uncle was still working: because even the earthquake-like rumble felt all over town as Henry Creel died wasn’t enough of an excuse to warrant clocking out early.

“Pretend I’m s-someone else calling,” Eddie had whispered, his voice breaking. “Wayne, I-I’m okay. Got stitches, but I’m okay. Fuck. I love you.”

And Steve tried not to think about how it could’ve so easily been him making the call, telling Wayne Munson that his nephew will never come home again.

Eddie pauses, hand hovering over the phone. Then he twirls his index finger in a little circle: turn around.

Steve does. Can’t find the energy to smile.

“Shower,” Eddie says, then taps him very gently on the back, once, twice, like he’s saying off you go.

Steve manages to twist his body so his own fresh bandages don’t get wet, carefully tilting the shower head away from them. He methodically washes away the dirt; the heat of the water is welcome, but it also seems to weigh down his limbs with every drop.

When he goes back downstairs, Eddie is on the phone. He keeps repeating vague little mm-hmm sounds, and Steve somehow is sure that he isn’t on the phone to his uncle.

“Yeah,” Eddie says as Steve approaches. “Yeah, he’s here.”

There’s a little side table next to the phone; Eddie reaches for the notepad, scribbles, then turns it round so Steve can see.

Dustin’s mom

And Steve…

He knows he should talk to her. He knows Claudia will no doubt have questions, even if Dustin’s probably already given his own half-baked explanation about how he hurt his leg—“It’s just a sprain,” he’d insisted, even as Steve hoisted him up, took all of his weight.

The right thing to do, surely, is take the phone from Eddie.

But Steve suddenly can’t bring himself to even lift his hand for it. He feels drained, feels vulnerable and exposed after the shower—that along with the grime being lifted from his skin, it’s also left his stupidly fragile, exhausted heart on show.

Eddie’s eyes flicker over his face like he can see it, see everything, and without so much as an awkward pause, he murmurs into the receiver, “He’s tired. Yeah, he’s—he’s okay. Mm-hmm. Yeah. Yeah, I will.”

He hesitates for a moment, a fleeting sheen to his eyes, and then he says, “Thank you. Goodnight, Mrs Henderson.” Another little pause. He smiles, adds, “Goodnight, Claudia,” and hangs up the phone.

“Is she… okay?” Steve asks. “What did she—is Dustin—”

“All good,” Eddie says. “She was just… checking in.”

The checking you were okay goes unsaid, but Steve can still hear it.

It weighs him down like the shower had done. He doesn’t register that he crosses through to the living room, just knows that he’s suddenly sinking down onto the arm of the couch, that Eddie is sitting next to him.

Steve doesn’t consciously decide to speak, the words tumbling out of him like it’s inevitable.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he mumbles.

He can practically hear Eddie frantically trying to make sense of what he’s said.

“Well, yeah, no plan’s gonna go perfectly, man, that’d be—but, hey, we fuckin’ made it, we—”

But Steve is shaking his head. “No, I… I thought I’d figured it out, I—”

He doesn’t know how to explain it; it’s too much to…

It’s something too big to put into words.

The fact that, as Nancy relayed each phase of the plan, he had listened closely, only agreed because at least he was in the group that would be closest to the ‘blast zone.’

That he’d hated leaving Lucas, Max and Erica alone, but had tried to reassure himself that at least they weren’t in The Upside Down.

That once Dustin knew where Steve was going, he wouldn’t take no for an answer, that he’d follow him to The Upside Down no matter what.

And, honestly, Steve would’ve preferred Eddie not getting dragged into this bullshit for any longer than he needed to be—that if it was feasible, Steve would’ve just told him to take the RV and run.

But Steve had seen how he was with Dustin, roughhousing in the grass. Knew that where Dustin went, Eddie would follow, too—a shield in his hand.

And Steve also knew something along those lines was true for him and Robin: that if he thought he could get away with it, he would’ve told her to watch over the kids at the Creel House, but knew she’d choose to be with him.

That all he could feel about going into Henry Creel’s lair himself was relief—not because he thought he was an essential part in all of this, but because he just…

He needed to be there. Just in case.

Because there was a look in Nancy’s eyes that terrified him. It said that if she had to, she’d die with Henry Creel, so long as it would all be over, so long as Barb would be avenged.

Out loud, all he can say is, “It… it was too close.”

“Steve,” Eddie says. “No-one got—”

“You’re not listening,” Steve says, and there’s a scream in his throat begging to be released; he doesn’t let it go. “It was too—I almost—almost had to—”

“Steve.”

“S-someone’s gotta call home,” Steve goes on. “And I—fuck, I was so scared I’d h-have to—to tell them that—”

“Steve,” Eddie whispers.

“But I-I would’ve,” Steve says. His voice cracks. “I couldn’t have just—they would’ve got a-answers, I would’ve—”

“I know,” Eddie says softly, and he’s got a hand in Steve’s hair suddenly, guiding him to his shoulder. “I know you’d—hey, I’ve got you. I know.”

The first sob, when it starts, hurts—feels like it comes straight from his stomach. Eddie holds him through it, almost like he’s afraid Steve might drift away to some unreachable place.

“I’ve got you,” he keeps saying. “Oh, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

When it’s over, when Steve gives a final, shuddering breath against Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie murmurs into his hair, “S’too late for any more phone calls, Steve. C’mon. Show me where to sleep?”

It’s not even all that big of a thing, when Steve leads Eddie to his bedroom, lies down on the farthest side of the bed. Leaves deliberate space.

“You don’t have to—there’s a guest room,” Steve says, tongue thick with exhaustion. “Don’t wanna—kinda worried I’ll hit your dressings in my sleep.”

Eddie looks at him from the doorway. “You’ve been patched up too, Steve,” he points out.

Steve shrugs.

Eddie steps into the room. “It’ll be fine,” he says, smiling. “We’ll both be gentle, huh?”

Steve nods through a yawn. When Eddie makes to shut the door, he says, “Don’t, leave it open. Just—just in case the phone… I’ll sleep right through it otherwise.”

Eddie’s still touching the door handle. “D’you trust me?”

Steve’s eyes keep closing against his will. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I trust you.”

Eddie shuts the door so quietly that it barely makes a sound. “Okay. ‘Cause I have, like, freakishly good hearing.” Through his lashes, Steve sees Eddie smirk wryly. “Like a bat.”

Steve thinks he makes a noise of acknowledgement—isn’t quite sure as his eyes have closed.

He feels Eddie lie down next to him, feels the covers being drawn up.

“I’ll hear the phone,” Eddie says. “I’ll answer it, ‘kay? I’ll come wake you up, if I need to.”

A gentle hand on Steve’s forearm.

“Promise,” Eddie says.

Steve breathes in. Out.

“Okay,” he replies, and he falls asleep completely: not needing to stay half-awake, not needing to pick up the phone—not needing to do anything at all.

#in which Steve can both be self sacrificial and still worry about anyone else being self sacrificial 💔#steve harrington fic #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve and nancy #steve and robin #steve and the party #eddie and claudia #steve and claudia #steddie

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mediumgayitalian · 2 months

Text

“I had a dream about you last night.”

“Oh, did you.” Will grins at him over his shoulder, up to his elbows in blood and fluids.

Nico kicks him. “Focus, stupid.”

“Yeah,” snarks Chiara, whose blood is currently splattering Will’s shirt. She reaches over and flicks Will on the forehead. “Focus in stitching the gaping gash in my leg, Solace.”

Nico frowns around his juicebox. “Hey. Lascialo stare. Only I call him Solace.”

“‘S my last name, Neeks.”

“Uh-huh. Everyone else can figure out something else to call you.”

“Possessive, are you.”

Nico smiles. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What’d you dream about, anyway?”

If Nico didn’t know Will so well, he’d take the casual tone for what it was. But he does, in fact, know Will and his horrible poker face, and notices the purse of his lips, the flick of his eyes in Nico’s direction every three seconds.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Everyone would,” huffs Chiara. “I have about forty dollars resting on you, di Angelo, and I will not be losing it.”

Nico sticks his tongue out at her. “Masticare lo zoccolo, zitella.”

“Hey!”

Will’s shoulders shake so hard he has to pause, trembling with the effort to hold back his laughter.

“I am trying to do a medical procedure, you two.”

Nico and Chiara speak at the same time.

“Yeah, in flip-flops.”

“Oh, are you? You’ve been flirting so long my numbing cream has started to wear off.”

That knocks Will back into doctor mode, eyes narrowing in focus. He is especially freckle-y today, not that Nico notices. And the sun is shining out the window at just the right angle to make Will’s curls look luminous. And his tongue sticks out of the corner of his perfect mouth, when he concentrates. And, gods, he’s wearing a shirt but the muscles in his /back/ —

“I can’t work with you oglin’ at me, Ghost King.”

“I’m not ogling at you.” Nico is a beautiful liar. Ignoring Will’s smirk, Chiara’s snickering, and his own flush is easy. “Why would I ever ogle at such an ugly person?”

“Because you’re in love with him, stupido. It’s embarrassing.”

“I think you should check her eyes, too, Solace.”

“How about you check deez fuckin’ nuts —”

“Alright,” Will says exasperatedly, before they can escalate too much and end up knocking a shelf off the wall. Again. “You’re done, Chiara. Take this ambrosia and scram. Don’t do anything strenuous and rip your stitches, ‘cause I’m not doin’ them again.”

She wastes no time bounding out of there. As soon as she’s gone, Will turns to face Nico, grinning.

“So,” he says, stretching out the syllable, grin wide and crooked, “you had a dream about me?”

Nico glances both ways, making sure no one’s watching. Then he darts forward to press a kiss to Will’s lips, relishing in the smell of his herbal shampoo, the chapped skin of his lips. Will grabs the side of his face and holds him longer, far past the quick peck he’d aimed for, kissing him until he smacks his boyfriend’s shoulder and pulls away, laughing. Will grins triumphantly, like he has the upper hand.

And, well.

Nico can’t have that.

“Yeah, lemme tell you about my dream.” He smooths his hands over Will’s shoulders. “This shirt was gone, for starters.”

“Mm. What else?”

“We certainly weren’t in the infirmary.”

“No?”

“No,” Nico breathes, breath hot on Will’s ear. He shivers. Nico smirks. “My cabin, dark, some low music playing…”

Will gasps. “Yeah?”

“…No one to bother us, you looking pretty as a picture on my bed…gagged.”

“Kinky.” Will shudders, hands sliding into Nico’s hair.

“Mhm. My dream come true.”

“That’s your dream?”

“Yes.” Nico pauses. “Dark, comfortable, warm…” He grins, wide and sharklike. “And finally, finally…quiet.”

It takes a second for it to sink in.

“Oh, you jackass!”

Nico cackles, stumbling back at Will’s shove. “Your — your face!”

“You jerk! I despise you!”

“Oh my gods,” he wheezes. He tries to calm himself, but one look at his boyfriend’s bright red cheeks sets him off again. “Oh my gods!”

Will huffs. Despite his embarrassment, he’s visibly struggling to hold on to his scowl, mouth twitching. “I’m breaking up with you. I’m gonna go date someone who appreciates me.”

“Nobody appreciates you more than I do, Sunshine,” Nico says, grinning. He presses a kiss to Will’s glowing cheek. “You’re just so easy to tease.”

Will rolls his eyes. “Whatever. I gotta work. Leave me alone.”

Nico presses another kiss, lingering until he feels him smile. “Okay, okay. I’ll see you at dinner, okay? Te amo.”

“…I love you too. Asshole.”

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postersofleon · 3 months

Text

SEVEN

Leon had issues and you understood them. Tied in a world where he couldn't even trust his own government, where bioweapons are a common thing and mistrust is common. Breaking up with an alcoholic with the best option to have. However, when time passes, Chris decides to bring you to help with Leon's current crisis. When he sees you, he is ready to give endless promises now. Seven days to win you back.

notes: i maybe like pathetic men but healing is hotter. inspired by jungkook's seven. no assigned race to reader but afab and she/her pronouns for them. EDIT! um, future chapters will have smut

monday: loving you

tuesday, wednesday, thursday, friday, saturday, sunday

Being an agent wasn't made for you. You spend nearly twelve years training your body, scars had now decorated your body- it wasn't fair that your life was dominated by the cruelty of the world. When Wesker died, you hoped and prayed to any living god that this was over, but it was a useless dream. And with what happened in your last mission. You were tired. You woke with night terrors and your boyfriend wasn't doing so hot either. All the way from Raccoon City, his mind was still traumatized by seeing death that Ada Wong became his worry. He needed to protect her despite her being able to do it herself.

You weren't jealous. No matter how many people warned you should, and trusting Leon didn't bring horrible consequences. That was until Leon pointed a gun on Chris.

No offense, but Ada wasn't worth making your life worse in the government's eyes. There was an uneasy silence now. Even Helena noticed it.

You couldn't date him. His drunkness was getting into a dangerous issue, and now his sense of what's wrong or right. You liked Ada. But unfortunately, despite being a mercenary, she always worked for the bad people. Combining that with his saviors complex. You didn't want to be selfish. It had been years. You dated Leon for years, but right now. Especially pointing a gun to someone who was promised to always stay by their side.

You couldn't trust Leon.

But you still loved him. That was no issue. Maybe you needed to heal as well.

Two years had passed. You were still working in the DSO, but for now, as a nurse who helped the injured agents. It was a suprise when you saw Chris and Rebecca enter your lair. You took off your gloves, "What brings you two here?"

Chris gave a small smile, "Um, well, we are trying to find Leon."

Your eyebrows furrowed, "Leon? Why ask?" You threw them to the trash. Wouldn't bring Jill be a better option considering that Leon was on vacation?

Rebecca cleared her throat, "He is... hard to find."

A small laugh escaped your lips, "Always is." Your arms crossed against your chest. Chris looked a bit disappointed from your words, but Rebecca looked determined with your laugh. "You know where he is?" Your eyes touched the ground before meeting Rebecca's.

"Of course I know where he is. He sends me texts."

Chris looked up, "I thought you two broke up." You nodded your head, "Yeah, but it makes him happy to tell me where he is." And you'll be avoiding his booty calls in this conversation.

"But you need to leave him alone. He is tired." You made sure they heard those words. Leon is exhausted. He needed a break from the life given to him. You turned around and gave them your back, "Everyone deserves to take a break." Your fingers tapped on the cold metal table.

"He needs you." Chris whispered softly.

You turned around to see him, "He needs comfort." You knew Leon way too much. It hurt you to say it because it felt true. "He finds comfort in the bottle more than he did with me." It was your bitterness just approaching over and over. You sighed deeply, trying to ignore your anger.

"If you need him so badly, I'll tell you where he is," You grabbed your phone and looked through all of his texts, "Here." You showed Chris and Rebecca. "Now leave me alone." Your fingers tapped repeatedly against the table, and before you can clear your thoughts you got a message from him.

You turned around to see Rebecca and Chris. You were probably stupid thinking an alcoholic could change his ways. "I'll go."

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #vendetta leon #leon kennedy angst

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anonymous-dentist · 18 days

Text

Or: Once upon a time, a man turned himself into a demon for the sake of his husband's soul. It's been a long time since then.

Demons don't really need to sleep, but Roier likes to do it, anyway. It's relaxing, and it reminds him of better times back when he was human and his husband wasn't... well.

Well.

Jaiden doesn't get it, but that's because she's never known what dreams are. Because demons don't sleep and, unlike Roier, she was born a demon. Her and Bobby both were, leaving Roier as the odd one out.

...That's fine! Their loss! Because sleep? Great. Dreams? Even better.

Because, in Roier's dreams, he sees him.

(They're in bed, because that was Roier's favorite place to be. He's on his back with his husband laying next to him tracing patterns into his shirt with one finger. Rain patters on the ceiling, and some leaks through into the kitchen and lands in a pot placed conspicuously in the middle of the floor. Their blankets are warm, and so are their hearts.)

Roier has been married for almost 500 years. His husband has been dead for 499 of those years, give or take a few months.

They were never legally married; that just wasn't something you did back then. Didn't matter, though, because they wouldn't have been able to afford a wedding even if they could get married.

They were farmers- well, Roier was a farmer. His husband just liked sitting and watching Roier work shirtless in the fields. He'd sit with a pitcher of water waiting by his side should Roier need it, and he'd watch shamelessly for hours at a time, and he was horrible.

And now he's dead.

But, see, the first thing Roier asked when arriving in Hell was whether or not the Devil was cool with gay marriage.

"Uh," said Jaiden- and this was their first real conversation post-demoning, okay? So she obviously wasn't as cool as she is now. "Maybe? I don't know. I'd have to ask?"

"Could you?" Roier had asked, freshly deceased and still bleeding from the temples where his horns had just finished growing in. "I'm expecting my husband."

"Right," Jaiden tensely replied. "Your husband."

"Yeah," Roier said, and he tried saying his husband's name, but it just. Wouldn't... what was it again?

But that's fine, being a demon is a pretty sweet gig. All Roier has to do is go up to the Mortal Realm and do a few jobs for a few witches, corrupt a few souls. In return, he gets badass magical abilities and immortality.

More importantly, he gets his husband's soul. As soon as he reincarnates back in the Mortal Realm, and as soon as he dies again, he goes to Hell with all of the memories from his previous life with Roier intact, and they finally get their happily ever after.

It's what he would've wanted. Hell might sound terrible, but it's no worse than the Mortal Realm, and its public transportation is actually better, somehow. The busses all run on time, and the subway is free.

More importantly, Roier's husband was the one collecting all those books on summoning demons and making deals with demons and communing with the Devil. Roier just... completed his work for him.

It's the least he could've done, and it was his last chance at seeing him again.

Fuck, but what was his name?

(They're in the fields, because that was Roier's husband's favorite place to be. Roier is shirtless and bent over a row of seeds that are going to grow up to be corn in a few months, and his husband is on the ground under the apple tree watching him shamelessly. It's sunny out, and there's the smell of smoke in the air.)

It's been 500 years since Roier's husband died, and Roier has spent that time trying to remember the name of his husband's killer.

Because, once upon a time, there was a farmer, and there was a witch. Ah, but witches were illegal, you see. They communed with the Devil, and they brought chaos into a world of order.

All Roier remembers is that the person who tied his husband to that pole was in all-white. Not a priest, just someone boring.

That same person was the one who lit the straw at Roier's husband's feet on fire. And they smiled doing so even as Roier dove towards the flames as if he could put them out with his bare hands.

It didn't work. Big surprise there.

"So the Devil's fine with you two getting married," Jaiden said after a few days of dealing with demonic bureaucracy, "but I have some bad news for you."

Roier, for the first time since Jaiden slit his throat and converted him, felt fear.

"What is it?" he asked.

She let out a breath, slow, and said, eventually, "Your husband's soul isn't here. He isn't in Heaven, either. Or in any of the other gods' realms."

Roier blinked. "What."

It was not a question.

She threw up her hands. "I don't know! It's like he just... disappeared!"

"Is that why I can't remember his name?" Roier asked. "His soul is fucking gone?"

His hands shook. Jaiden reached out and took them.

"We'll find him," she promised, kind despite her whole 'Is A Demon' thing. "Even if it takes five hundred years."

"Yeah, well, it won't," he scoffed. "I'm going to find him. He promised me a wedding."

Souls don't just die. They go to someplace that Roier has only ever heard of: Purgatory.

Once in Purgatory, souls get judged by the Eye of Justice. He asks them questions about their life, and they have to answer truthfully, or he'll feed them to his children.

There are a few options for what comes next.

One: they pass the Eye of Justice's judgement and are allowed to move on to whatever afterlife they believe in.

Two: they pass the Eye of Justice's judgement and are allowed to reincarnate into another life.

Three: they fail the Eye of Justice's judgement and are forcibly sent to reincarnate into the life of a bug or a blade of grass or something else boring and tortuous.

Roier got to skip out on Purgatory entirely because he took the direct line to Hell. But maybe, just maybe, if he had died regularly, he could have seen his husband in Purgatory, and they could have reincarnated together.

...Ugh. Hindsight is a bitch.

(Roier is visiting his grandfather when the church bells ring.

"A witch!" he hears a woman scream, and his stomach fell right into his shoes.)

It's been 500 years, and Roier has gotten a bit of a reputation among modern witches for being one of the easier demons to work with. He'll help with their problems in exchange for information on a certain lost soul: if they hear from his husband's soul, they summon Roier. Or he'll help in exchange for some book recommendations for his son; Hell has many things, but it does not have a public library.

He isn't a particularly strong demon despite what his only angel friend, Etoiles, might say. Etoiles is just a silly little guy, don't listen to him!

(He never even got to say goodbye. They locked eyes as the flames rose, and Roier screamed his name one last time, and he hasn't been able to feel anything since.)

Jaiden was the first demon that Roier had ever met.

He was on the floor surrounded by the ashes that used to be his home. His husband's books were in charred tatters around him, but one managed to survive the fire. It was almost supernatural, but, like, yeah. Demon book, of course it was fireproof.

He was bleeding. He had offered his blood, and his soul, to the demon in exchange for his husband's life back.

She sat on the floor with him.

"I can't do that," she gently told him. "Demons can do a lot of things, but we can't perform miracles."

Roier's throat burned: smoke inhalation and grief.

"Oh," he said, small-sounding.

"But I can get his soul to Hell," she offered. "In exchange... you have to go to Hell."

His answer was immediate: "Yes."

She blinked. "I wasn't finished?"

"The answer is still 'Yes'. As long as I'm with him again, I don't care what happens to me."

"You'll have to turn your life over to Satan. You can't just go to Hell. That isn't how it works."

Roier shrugged. "That's fine."

Jaiden gawked for a moment before nodding and standing and extending her hand.

He took it.

And then he died.

But it's been 500 fucking years, and now Roier is being summoned by another witch for another deal. He'll probably have to help supply additional magic for some big important spell, that's basically all he's used for these days. He's more than a battery, thanks! He's a demon, he should be out, like, stealing souls and shit.

He goes, anyway, because he has to. If he doesn't, his contract is void, and he won't get to see his husband because he himself will be sent to Purgatory to be judged and, really, he does not want to deal with that. (The Eye of Judgement is fucking creepy, okay?)

There's the familiar pull at Roier's core, and the familiar blinding burst of light as he's yanked into the Mortal Realm, and the familiar smell of brimstone and evil that follows him wherever he goes outside of Hell.

The room is filled with blood red smoke as he appears- his trademark.

(The most important thing to a demon these days isn't evil, it's marketability.)

The witch in front of him, nothing more than a shadow hidden behind the smoke, coughs and wheezes and fans their hand in front of their face.

They're kneeled on the ground in front of a pentagram drawn in... what the fuck is this, strawberry jam?

Roier crouches and sticks a finger into one of the circle's markings. Careful not to break the circle, he pulls his finger out and licks the red stuff on it.

Shocked, he looks at the witch, and he asks, "Dude, what the fuck? Is this blood?"

What happened to chalk!?

The witch coughs at him indignantly. "I needed to make sure I got someone powerful."

Roier rolls his eyes and plops fully onto the ground, criss-cross applesauce. He wipes his blood-covered fingertip on his jeans. Newbies...

"Well, you got me," he says, humble to the core. (He may be a super evil demon now, but he isn't a dick.) "So... what's up? What do you need?"

The smoke in the room slowly starts dissipating, revealing the witch to be a man in what have to be the previous day's clothes. His head is still ducked, and his face is still hidden in his elbow as he coughs, but Roier could almost call him objectively handsome. Shame Roier's married, this guy would be fun to mess around with.

"I need to- fuck-"

The witch coughs one last time before finally managing to get a lungful of clean air. He raises his head, and Roier finally gets a look at his face, and-

"I need your help," the witch says, voice rough and rugged and absolutely heartbreaking. "I need to kill someone, and I need your help to do it."

"Okay," Roier agrees. He doesn't have a choice, being a summoned demon and all, but he doesn't think he could turn this witch down at all, because...

("Cellbit!" Roier screams.

He can see his face in his husband's glassy eyes, and then he sees nothing but the flames as they rise over Cellbit's head and drown him whole.)

The man with his husband's face frowns, suspicious.

"What," he asks, "just like that?"

Roier grins, fangs and all. "Just like that."

After all, he doesn't think he'll need any payment for this one.

He's finally found what he's been looking for.

#a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#spiderbit #guapoduo #bit of a weird format going on here but it felt like it worked okay?#real sporadic but so are this dude's thoughts

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xxchumanixx · 2 months

Text

Healing together

Tim Bradford x reader

Warnings/Tags: smut, 18+ mdni!, p in v (wrap it before you tap it!), oral (fem receiving), fingering, fluff, angst, hurt, comfort

Word count: 4.731

Authors note: Hello guys! I know I said I'd be uploading another story (actually two), but I had this idea all of a sudden and I just couldn't let it slide. So I had to do it first. Get ready for some naked time with Tim Bradford!

Enjoy!

That, was not how your day had been supposed to go.

Not at all.

Being in the middle of a crimescene, staring at your ex-boyfriend - Yeah, it definitely wasn't supposed to go like that.

It should have been a normal day - you should have went to work, did your job, before going home, cook, shower, sleep.

Simple as that.

But when a colleague from work had been killed in the middle of the day, causing the whole place to be crowded with police and forensics, the day had begun to shift.

Slowly, the simple things became complicated - being crowned when you spotted a familiar face amidst the officers: Tim Bradford.

Sucking in a breath you tried your best to hide, which wasn't that easy given the open parking lot you currently were at.

But he didn't seem to have seen you yet, calming your racing heart down a little.

Your break-up with Tim was nasty.

You weren't compatible anymore, your interests and goals for the future having shifted completely, going into different directions.

That didn't mean that you didn't love him anymore, but when you gave him the choice - either his career or you - he took the career.

You didn't exactly blame him for it, but he broke your heart. Now, years later, you couldn't help but notice that he looked even better than before.

Scolding yourself for thinking this way, you shook your head. He shouldn't be of interest for you, not after all this time.

But he was.

So, when someone cleared their throat behind you, you froze.

"Ma'am, we would like to get a statement from you." You knew his voice, it still haunted you in your dreams - you would have recognized it from anywhere.

Turning around you did your best not to look too suspicious. Sending him a crooked smile his eyes widened, mouth agape as the pen in his hand almost slipped from his grasp.

"Y/N." he carefully said your name, like he was testing it on his tongue after all these years. "Tim." you gave back, swallowing.

The woman beside him - according to her name tag she was officer Chen - looked between you in confusion.

"You know her?" she wanted to know, pen pointed at you. "Yeah..." he returned, eyes fixed on you. "Briefly." you cut in, noticing how his mouth twitched at the statement.

"We were in the same class in academy and she used to work for the LAPD." Tim explained.

"You're a cop?" she asked, sounding almost excited. "I was." you corrected her, biting your lip.

"I was, until a case went wrong, sending me to the intensive care unit for almost three months." "You nearly died." Tim added, shaking his head the slightest bit. "If the bullet had hit a millimeter more to the right he would have hit your heart. Not that it would have been the only bullet, though."

Swallowing at the memory you nodded slightly. "Yeah, the scars remind me everyday of my almost day of death."

Chen bit her lip. "I know that feeling." she mumbled. "Been buried alive. That psycho tattooed my DOD on my ribs."

Your brows rose high at the horrible time she had to have went through, eyes widening. "Officer Bradford saved me." she explained, motioning at Tim.

Nodding you felt a familiar tug at your heart. "He uses to do such things from time to time." you told her, trying to hide how your voice trembled.

"Y/N!" he shouted your name. It sounded strange through the blur and the fog in your head. "Stay with me! Keep your eyes open, you hear me? Y/N!"

Blinking rapidly, you had to get away from him. His presence opened wounds that never managed to heal.

"What are you doing here? I thought you went to New Orleans?" Tim wanted to know, tilting his head slightly as his brows furrowed. Your lip twitched - you had barely been in New Orleans for a year.

It was beautiful, but it wasn't LA.

"I'm back, have been a few years now, actually." you explained, fingers tugging at lose strings on your pants. You just had to grab the one with holes in it, hadn't you?

Why even buy overpriced pants with holes, anyways?

Shaking that thought off, you continued. "I'm working here, the one who's murdered was my colleague. Although I contemplated going back."

"Back to New Orleans?" He almost sounded alarmed, but you shook your head. "Back to the police."

That must have alarmed him even more, as his eyes widened significantly.

"I've got an offer from Grey." you explained, tugging a lose strand of hair behind your ear. Tim swallowed, nodding.

"So you two were rookies together?" Chen inquired, smiling. "How was he back then?"

Clearing your throat you looked at her. "He was ambitious, eager." you explained. "A little reckless."

Tim's brows rose at your words. "I was reckless?" he wanted to know, huffing. "We were both reckless when we decided to be-" he cut himself off, already having said too much.

But Chen was clever, as she caught on to what he wanted to say.

"Wait, you two were together?"

Rolling your eyes you looked away for a second.

Damn him and his mouth - even when the memory of what his mouth was able to do made you blush.

Not what you wanted to think of in that moment, though.

"We were." you confirmed, nodding as you looked back at her. "Didn't work. It's history, nothing more."

Tim swallowed, it was so loud that you could hear it.

His gaze wandered over the crimescene, before it fixed on his rookie. "Boot, could you get a statement from this man over there?" he asked, pointing somewhere, though it wasn't really a question.

Chen knew that as well, nodding.

"Was nice to meet you." she spoke, before she turned around and headed for the man Tim pointed at.

Cocking a brow you looked up at him, as his gaze fell back on you. "What?" he asked, brows furrowing. "You did that on purpose." you replied, giving him a pointed look.

Sighing he stuffed away his pen and notepad, nodding. "Yes, I did."

Biting your lip you contemplated to run.

You didn't know what he wanted to talk about, but if he sent his rookie away, he wanted to do exactly that.

You knew him.

Sighing, you decided to stay. It would have only looked suspicious if you ran - they didn't need to falsely arrest you, because they thought you were the murderer.

Biting down on your cheek you waited for him to begin.

"You look good." he spoke hesitantly, a small smile gracing his lips. Nodding, your brows twitched. "Did you tell her to go just so you could tell me that I look good?" you gave back, tilting your head.

"No, I... I'm just surprised to see you, that's all." he admitted, looking down for a split second. "After we... separated, I didn't see you again."

Huffing, you crossed your arms above your chest. "What did you expect, after you broke my heart?" you returned, holding his gaze, even as his eyes averted at your words.

"That I could continue like nothing happened? I couldn't stay, because that meant I'd have to see you everyday, so I quit and went to New Orleans. But it wasn't LA, so I came back after only a year. I kept in contact with Wade and Angela, but that's it."

His brows knitted together. "I don't know if I should be more surprised about you being on first name basis with Grey or you staying in contact with Lopez."

Shaking your head you looked down.

"What are you trying to do here, Tim?" you asked quietly, looking back up. The sun was already setting, shining straight onto your faces, highlighting all of his contours.

Sighing deeply, his gaze fell back on the crowd of people around you. He seemed unsure, hesitant.

"I never got the chance to apologize." he finally spoke, looking down, before his gaze fell on you, as your brows furrowed. "I chose my career, but I later realized that I was wrong. I could have had both and I made the mistake of choosing only one thing."

Shaking your head at his words you felt the anger bubble up. You had suppressed it for so long, that it was hard for you to hold it back now.

"Are you serious?" you wanted to know, taking a step closer, as your eyes narrowed at him. "Angela mentioned that you married - only two years later. Surely your career didn't stand in the way when you did."

He looked like you just slapped him in the face.

"I know." he gave back. "I didn't want to do the same mistake again. But then I did another one. She got addicted, and I didn't intervene at first. Only when she left one night I realized that I fucked up again. I didn't see her for two years, but now she's clean."

Biting your lip you nodded slightly.

"Bet you must be happy now." you said, feeling sorry for her. "We're divorced now." he returned. "It's only a few months ago. But it's better that way."

"Oh." you made, looking away, now feeling guilty, as the anger slowly faded. "Angela didn't tell me. I mean, not that it's my cup of tea, but I'm sorry for you."

He nodded. "Thank you, but I'm okay."

Nodding as well, you didn't know what to say. Luckily, he did.

"You should get home, get some rest." he told you, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, I don't know." you gave back, biting your lip. "My car is at the workshop, I got here with the bus, but that won't get here, now that this is a crimescene. I don't know how I'll get home - I guess I'll just walk then."

His brows furrowed. "No, you're not going home on your own." he disagreed, shaking his head. "We still don't know who did this and the suspect could still be close by. I'll drive you."

"What? No, you don't have to do that. I can protect myself." you argued. "I bet you have a lot of work left to do here anyway, not to mention your rookie."

But he shook his head, not having it. "She'll drive with someone else." he told you sternly, before walking towards her.

Mouth agape you stared after him, not sure if you were ready to be alone in a car with him just yet.

When he came back, you couldn't believe that he really was able to just go, drive you home.

"Come." he spoke, walking towards his police car. Still shocked you followed him, knowing that you didn't have another choice. He wouldn't have let you go alone, no matter what you did.

You sighed, when you sat down in the passenger seat. You missed sitting in the shop, the familiar smell and feeling causing you to feel homesick.

Tim started the engine, as you buckled up. Leaning back in the seat your fingers brushed over the door. You had sat so many times in the shop, and after all this time of being no cop anymore, you finally felt at home again.

The drive was silent for the first few minutes, after you told him were you lived.

The silence was heavy, neither one knowing what to say now that you were alone.

"Are you planning on taking Grey up on his offer?" Tim broke the silence, looking at you, before his gaze went back out on the street.

"Before getting in the shop I wasn't sure - but now... It feels like I'm home again. All this time I missed something and I know now, that it was this job."

He nodded, swallowing.

"I took that from you." he almost whispered, and you swore you saw his eyes glisten. "Because of me you gave up your dream. I don't know how I'll ever be able to make up for it."

Biting your cheek, you considered if you should tell him that he couldn't make up for it. But you decided against it.

If you really wanted to get back, you shouldn't stay angry at him. You should at least try to forgive him, no matter how long it would take.

"I'm sure you'll find a way." you quietly told him, looking out your window.

Parking in front of your house, it was already dark. He cut the engine, getting out, before you could have stopped him.

Following him to your front door you hesitated. "Won't you get into trouble for driving me home?"

He shook his head, as he stopped at the door, as you did the same. "No, I can explain my absence." he told you, looking down at you. "I just wanted to make sure that you're getting home safely."

Feeling your heart hammer in your chest, you nodded. "Okay, then thank you for driving me home." you spoke, looking up into his eyes. "Yeah, no problem." he mumbled, staring back.

You felt how you became hot, hearing your heartbeat in your ears at his intense stare.

Slowly, he inched closer, his head leaning in your direction. Your breathing faltered, as you did the same.

His breath fanned over your face and you swallowed, before his lips finally met yours.

Something inside you exploded, as you tasted his lips for the first time since your break-up.

They fit together like they were made to be, his hands finding your hips, guiding you closer. Your arms wrapped around his neck, as you pressed yourself impossibly closer to him.

Your lips devoured each other, his tongue brushing your bottom lip and you let him in. Your tongues fought for dominance, your combined breathing ringing in your ears.

Your heart burst at the feeling, as the kiss grew more heated.

Fumbling for the key, all your worries were suddenly gone. Trying to open the door blindly it took you a few tries, before you heard the familiar click. Pushing the door open, Tim didn't waste any time as he pushed you inside.

He closed the door behind him, before his hands grabbed your face, guiding your lips back onto his.

He pushed you against the nearest wall, your back hitting it almost painfully, as his hands roamed your body. Grabbing your thighs he gave you a sign to jump - and so you did.

Your legs wrapped around his middle, pulling him closer. His lips traveled down your chin to your neck, sucking at it until he found the spot that had you moaning.

Using the advantage he brushed off your jacket, letting it fall to the floor, before his hands found your hips again. They wandered under your shirt, eagerly touching your skin.

"Where is your bedroom?" he wanted to know breathlessly. "Upstairs, first door on the right." you explained, out of breath as well.

He didn't hesitate to grab you, before he walked to the stairs with you in his arms, showing no signs of trouble as he took them, all the while kissing you as he blindly made his way up.

When he reached the door he pushed it open, only breaking the kiss to locate your bed, before he let you fall down on it. Catching your breath, you pulled your shirt over your head, watching him as he took off his jacket, followed by his shirt and the one he wore under his uniform.

He was breathtaking.

His muscles were more defined than they were back then, making him even more geogous. Unbottoning his pants, you did the same, stripping out of them, before throwing them off the bed.

When you were left in only your underwear, he was back on top of you, his lips taking yours. Lying down on your back his body pressed against yours, his clothed cock pressing against the inside of your thigh.

Sucking down your neck, he again found your sweet spot, earning a moan from you as he sucked on it. Your hands brushed through his hair, as your back arched.

He took the opportunity to open your bra, discarding of it on the floor.

Kissing down to your breasts, his lips found your left nipple, sucking it into his mouth. You yelped in pleasure and surprise, tugging at his short strands. His tongue circled around it, before it flicked over it.

You moaned when he lightly bit down on your nipple, before letting go of it with a wet pop, giving your other one the same attention.

The wetness between your legs was almost getting too wet, the knot in your belly already forming just because his lips were around your nipple.

Letting go of the other one he went further down, trailing kisses down your stomach, until he reached the hem of your panties. He looked up at you, before he kissed your clothed pussy, causing you to suck in a breath.

He was so unnaturally hot.

Chuckling at your reaction, his fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties, before tugging them down, letting them drop on the floor as well.

Then he pushed your legs back, opening them until he could see his precious price. Kissing your thighs he took his time, causing you to squirm.

You could feel him grin, his hot breath fanning over your heat. Without a warning his tongue licked up your pussy in one stripe, causing your hips to buck, as you moaned loudly.

His tongue went down on you, licking through your folds, flicking over your clit, before his lips sucked it into his mouth.

Your hands found their way back into his hair, fisting it as much as you could with its length, earning a groan from him. It vibrated through your pussy, making you moan in return.

His thumb brushed over your clit, as his mouth let go of you, his eyes finding yours. He drew figure eights on your bundle of nerves, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head, gasping for air.

His thumb was soon replaced by his mouth again, as he slowly pushed a finger inside you, after gathering some of your arousel to wet it.

You moaned, as he started fingering you, all the while pleasuring you with his tongue. When he added a second finger, stretching you, your back arched off the matress, as you pulled his head even closer.

The knot in your stomach tightened almost painfully, as his fingers fell into a steady rhythm. He brought you right to the edge, and when you looked down at him, your eyes finding his, you fell.

Screaming his name, you came. He didn't stop though, taking everything you gave him, as he rode you through your high.

When you came down it, he removed his mouth and fingers, wiping over his mouth, that glistened from your arousel, before he leaned up, kissing you.

Tasting yourself on his tongue you groaned, palming him through his briefs. He twitched, as he gasped for air, before his lips were on yours again.

Tugging the briefs down his legs, he let them fall to the floor, his cock painfully hard. It poked at your entrance, making you all the more eager to finally have him inside you.

His lips left yours, as he pointed at your night table. You nodded, before he opened it and took out a condom, before sitting up a little. He rolled it down his shaft, before he lay back on top of you.

Kissing you again he guided his cock to your entrance, slowly pushing the head inside.

Moaning you clenched, making him hiss. "Fuck." he breathed. "You're so tight." Smirking you pushed in his direction. He slowly eased forward, until he was buried to the hilt.

Breathing heavily you leaned back into the cushions, needing a moment to get used to him.

His lips brushed your cheek, as he waited for your go. Nodding, you signaled that you were ready.

Slowly, he pulled back until only his head was inside you, before thrusting back into you hard. You yelped, toes curling at the sensation, as he did it again and again, slowly becoming faster.

You fell into a steady rhytm, your hands gripping his bicep with his arms at either side of your head.

His eyes found yours and you sucked in a breath, moaning his name. "Fuck." he swore, biting his lip. "Do that again." Your cheeks flushed. "Tim!" you moaned his name again and he groaned, his thrusts getting harder, deeper.

You wouldn't last long if he kept this up.

Your breasts bounced, and he kissed down them, circling your nipples with his tongue.

Your hands found his hair, tugging at it almost painfully at the sensations. The knot in your belly tightened again, as you brought his mouth back to yours.

He thrust into you vigorously, his pelvis brushing your clit, sending sparks up your body and making your toes curl.

"I'm gonna cum soon." you told him inbetween moans, biting your lip. One of his hands gripped one of your legs, giving you a sign to wrap them both around his middle.

Doing as you were told you felt how he reached even deeper, earning a moan from you both.

His thrusts gained speed, as one of his hands found your middle, his fingers brushing your clit. You twitched under him, as he started to rub it, driving you towards the edge in highspeed.

You were so close to bursting.

"Tim!" you breathed, trying to focus on his face. "I know." he gave back. "Come for me."

With a scream of his name you stumbled over the edge, him following closely as your pussy clenched around him.

He rode out your highs, before he stilled. Breathing heavily your eyes were closed, needing a moment to come down from the best orgasmn you've had in the last few years.

When your eyes opened again they met his, as he brushed a sweaty strand of hair out of your face. You smiled, still feeling a little high.

He returned the smile, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

Time stood still, as you enjoyed this moment in silence.

Still a little out of breath he rolled down from you, his back hitting the sheets as he lay down beside you.

"Fuck..." he mumbled. "That was..." "Amazing." you finished for him. "Yeah..."

You lay in silence as you slowly caught your breath, him discarding of the condom, before lying back down. But as the high faded, something different bubbled up.

Feelings, that were so deep buried inside you, suddenly pushed back up. Gasping, you tried to suppress the tears -failing horribly as a sob broke through.

"Y/N!" Tim called out your name in worry, sitting up. "What happened?" Tears streamed down your face, as you sat up as well.

"Why couldn't it just have been fine?" you wanted to know, causing him to furrow his brows in confusion. "What do you mean?" he asked. "Why couldn't we just have been happy back then?" you returned, wiping your face.

He fell silent, as he knew what you meant.

Crying silently you suddenly felt ashamed. You shouldn’t have been crying over the past, but you couldn't help it. After all that happened, you still loved him.

"After you've been shot, almost dying in my arms..." he began, breaking the silence, as his gaze fell on the sheets. "I built this shield around me, that was supposed to prevent a situation like this from happening again. I almost lost you, an event that traumatized me so badly... For a very long time I tried to convince myself that what I did was right."

He sighed, and you swallowed, biting your lip as more tears fell.

"When I married Isabel, I tried to prevent something like this, but I failed - again." he continued. "She was undercover, getting addicted. I didn't know how to help her and to be honest, I don't believe that there was actually a way I could have helped. If anything, I made it worse. It reminded me of us. I relived the events from when you were shot, nearly dying. You lost so much blood that they had to revive you - two times. Knowing that it was my fault, knowing that you could have died because of me - something inside me broke. So when I built this shield, and you asked me to go with you - I was scared that it would follow us. I was scared that you'd be in harms way, because of me. So I chose the job."

Sobbing, you tried to understand what he just told you.

"It wasn't your fault." you told him, wiping your face, even though it was useless. "Yes it was! If I-" he wanted to argue, but you cut him off. "No, Tim! It was not your fault! It was mine!" you shouted, pointing at yourself.

"I was sloppy that day, I didn't sleep enough, wasn't feeling well. And if I hadn't hesitated when trying to shoot the attacker, he wouldn't even have had a chance to get me. It wasn't your fault, do you hear me? Nothing of this was on you, Tim."

His mouth was open, eyes red from the tears he tried to hold at bay.

"You never said that you didn't feel well." he realized, swallowing. "If you would have told Grey, you wouldn't have even been there in the first place."

Nodding, you bit your lip, absentmindely brushing over the scar on your chest with your fingers.

"Yes, but i was so eager to get that job done." you explained. "Nothing would have stopped me from going out there, so stop blaming yourself. Please, Tim."

It fell silent again, as your tears slowly subsided.

All this time you had suffered, because he thought he was at fault for your accident. He blamed himself, even though it wasn't his fault at all.

When he suddenly scooted closer, his arms wrapping around you with his chin on your head, you heard him sniff. Leaning against him you breathed his familiar scent, your heart bleeding as he cried.

You could have had it all. Could have lived a happy life. He could have married you instead of Isabel, who ended up getting addicted, breaking his heart.

You had both suffered so badly.

And as you sat there, both crying over the past mistakes, you made a decision.

You would forgive him.

After all, he did what he did to keep you safe - even if he broke his own heart in the process as well.

After a while he shifted, looking down at you. His eyes were red and a little puffy, but yours didn't look any better.

"I shouldn't have let you go." he told you, wiping away the remnants of your tears. "When you asked me to go with you, I should have said yes. I shouldn't have pushed you away, out of fear that I might lose you if I didn't."

Shaking your head, you sniffed. "I shouldn't have made you choose." you gave back. "I ran away from my fear, but it didn't work. I should have stayed and tried to heal, instead of running."

He breathed deeply, his hand on your cheek.

"I want you to know that I never stopped loving you." he admitted, holding your gaze. "Not even when i was with Isabel."

Smiling through another wave of tears coming up, your hand lay on his. "I never stopped loving you, either." you returned, a happy feeling spreading through you.

It tickled your veins, warming you from the inside.

He smiled as well, blinking as a tear fell on his cheek.

"Can we fix this?" he asked, hope shining in his eyes. "I think we did already." you gave back, causing him to sigh in relief.

"Will we be together, after this?" he questioned further. Swallowing, you wiped at your eyes, before responding. "I would love nothing more."

He kissed you. It felt different, free.

Like it should be.

"I love you." he spoke, kissing your cheeks. "I love you too." you returned, a giddy feeling spreading through your entire being, smiling broadly.

"And I promise that I'll never leave you again." he added, swallowing, as he looked into your eyes. "You'll never get rid of me again."

"I wouldn't want to."

#tim bradford x you #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford #the rookie x u #the rookie imagine #the rookie x reader #the rookie #tim bradford smut

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redhead-batgal · 3 months

Note

Hey , I recently read your Damian Wayne one shot called she's so gone and I was wondering if you were going to make a part 2 . I absolutely loved it and would love to read a part 2 and I look forward to seeing more of your stories and if you don't write a part please tag me in a post that u are not gonna write part 2 I would really appreciate it. And awesome stories btw .☺️❤️

Type: Two-Shot (Part One: Here)

Pairing: Fem! and Best Friend! Reader x Damian Wayne/ Robin

Word Count: 7,462

Content: angsty, angsty times, arguing, confrontation babes, the sis is back, maybe some PDA, amazing friend! Jon Kent, fluffies????, language, violence, self-deprecating reader thoughts, batfam supporting reader, and aged up reader/Damian to 18 yrs

(P.S: Sooooo, yeah, I hope y'all enjoy this chaos cuz it may or may not get intense at some point but like.... you did ask for this, however y'all will like the ending I promise)

(P.P.S: Forgive me I'm really really bad at writing PDA)

Y/N: your name, S/n: Sister's name

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

There is something hollow and empty in heartbreak. Some emptiness that consumes everything in a twirling barreling black hole that destroyed anything that entered its orbit. Transforming the raw and fierce emotions into a numb and darkness that overtook and elapsed time and almost even life itself. It was almost like a never-ending wave, water pounding in ears and honing the sound of a beating heart. Something about that feeling that was almost...addictive.

Though this feeling- this destruction was oh so painful. Part of you- part of you clung to it. Maybe it was because these horrible and draining emotions helped you focus on something other-other than the betrayal and other then... other than your inadequacies. After all, Damian wouldn't have chosen S/N right? if you have been better if you had been greater, if you had just been more, maybe- just maybe he wouldn't have left- he wouldn't have abandoned you.

These thoughts had you up at night despite the heartbreak roaring through your mind. It made adjusting to your new life in Metropolis so much harder. And even though you had developed a poker face of sorts, your new roommate Jon Kent always seemed to know when you were struggling.

It wasn't as though he could read your mind or that he had any feelings for you, but more as that he knew you so well. He was, in a sense, the sibling- the brother you had needed. A person to rely on and to confide in. It was surprising how willing Jon was to listen to your woes despite the fact that he was close friends with Damian. Despite the fact that he knew your sister, he knew her well, he still listened to everything that had happened and your point of view of it all.

It was even more surprising that he comforted you. Not in a soft way, but in the ruffling of hair and saying that your family, your sister and even Damian didn't deserve you. Before continuing with even if you really are annoying. You had laughed, tears spilling from your eyes before nodding.

Regardless of Jon's comments and the quiet messages of encouragement from Oracle saying she won't tell Damian where you were at and that you were in the right, your mind still scrambled and screamed.

It's all your fault

he left because you aren't good enough

you should have died that night

These swirls of terror overtook you at the worst of times. In the dead of night when you were all alone; in crowded rooms at parties Jon had convinced you to go to; even in your sleep. Yanking you from the one peace and bliss you had to the roaring of self-hatred and scorn. And today was no different.

Just as the soft hues of light brushed the horizon, your mind bellowed and twisted, pulling you from sweet dreams of the past you longed to return to.

Partially panting you sat up, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you intertwined a hand into your hair. Squeezing your eyes shut you focused on your racing heart instead of the thoughts that fought to be known.

Moments later there was a knock on your door. Sighing heavily, you slipped from bed and walked over to the door. Opening it with a weak wave you turned back towards your bed. In the doorway Jon stood a worried look on his face.

"Are you okay?" He whispered, having clearly been awoken by your frantic episode.

"I guess, I mean nothing out of the ordinary is happening." You grumbled in reply, rubbing your brow.

There was silence between the two of you and Jon walked into your room flopping onto your bed with a slight grunt, "So all the fun times?"

"Of course, what else would you expect from me?"

Jon laughed slightly and you sank onto the ground leaning your head half against the bed, half against Jon's leg. Something stirred and shifted in you and closing your eyes you muttered a question,

"Do-do you hear it too?"

"Your voices? no, I think those are your special friends."

Shooting him a glare of sorts you swatted at his leg, and he chuckled before letting out a soft yawn. There was more silence before he sighed.

"Okay, okay you're serious... yeah. I do. I mean it's not like what you're going through but I hear the doubts and negative thoughts too."

Something about his words made you want to protest, to say it wasn't that bad, or really untrue. Something also struck a match in your chest, alighting warmth and comfort and something almost burst.

Swallowing back your tears you leaned back a bit to see his face before you continued.

"So... I'm not crazy or awful for having voices tell me all the bad things I've done?'

Jon snorted and you had to resist the urge to punch him. He sits up glancing down at you before sighing dramatically.

"No, that doesn't make you crazy. You are perfectly crazy all on your own."

With that a wave of relief came over you as you jumped to your feet. Jon rose and you pushed at him a smile of sorts on your face. He gasped dramatically before reaching out to push you back. You dodged his hands as laughter began to build in your chest.

"oh, it is so on." Jon muttered and a laugh escaped you.

Turning you skidded out of your room, avoiding Jon's attempts to push you as you hurried down the hall into the kitchen. Your feet slid across hardwood floors almost gliding when your foot caught on a chair leg, and you practically flew forwards, your face slamming straight onto the ground.

A bit of pain raced over you, but it was familiar enough for you to know that the most you would have is a bruise.

There was silence, then roaring laughter and you hazily pushed yourself up to see Jon cackling. His hand pressed to his stomach as he laughed at your fall.

"You are such a dick." You mumbled as you pushed yourself up.

Jon did not seem to care and continued to laugh. You rolled your eyes before pushing yourself to your feet. His laughter seemed to halt as you turned towards him. He paused, weakly smiling, "Is this the part where I run?"

Smiling slowly, you tilted your head and shrugged.

"It can be; however I am willing to negotiate."

He hesitated, eyes going wide as he looked around the room clearly noticing the hardwood floors and his feet in socks.

"Ah okay, uhm how does hot chocolate sound?"

You narrowed your eyes taking a step forwards, Jon's hands went out and he blinked a few times taking a step back.

"And a donut or pastry or whatever you like."

You took another step forwards and Jon flinched raising his hands to cover himself as he squeaked out,

"From Nonna's!"

You hesitated, recalling the Italian woman's small cafe and all the baked goods inside. Including her delightful assortment of drinks.

"I want extra whipped cream on my drink and a bag of stuff."

Jon paused, looking up at you slowly, his eyes narrowed, "Is that all?"

You thought for a moment and nodded, "Yes."

He held out a hand slightly shaking, and you grinned, "Deal."

After a somewhat civil handshake, you took a step back feeling something warm in your chest.

"I'll get my shoes and coat!"

Bounding back to your room you grabbed a pair of shoes and a coat before practically skipping back into the kitchen. Jon had his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall, a strange look on his face. As you pulled your coat and shoes on you approached him.

"Ready?"

He hesitated, making eye contact with you and blanching. He cleared his throat, eyes darting towards the front door.

"I- i I uh... I don't think going now is a good idea-"

You rolled your eyes, "You promised, we are going no backing out, we shook on it!"

But something about his hesitance made your stomach churn, pins and needles beginning to bounce on your chest.

Jon opened his mouth to say something else and you walked over to the door, your hand resting on the handle when something escapes him.

"Wait!" He almost squeaks.

You hesitated for a moment before looking back to the door and slowly opening it. An empty hallway stood before you and you tilted to show Jon. Snorting a laugh at his surprise you scrunched up your nose giving him a teasing look, hoping to make him roll his eyes- or at the very least stop his nervous behavior.

"Does the big bad empty space scare you Little Johnny?" You asked in a voice you'd use on a child.

Jon seemed to relax, his shoulders dropping and air leaving him as he stared at the doorway; clearly not registering your taunt. A second passed before his head snapped in your direction and he narrowed his eyes.

"Seriously? Little Johnny?"

You shrugged, "What else am I supposed to call you? Your name???"

This made him laugh, which calmed the buzzing on your chest and churning in your stomach. Yet, something about the look in his eyes made the pins and needles dig deeper, moving to the back of your neck and shoulders.

Jon moved towards you and the door, seeming more relaxed than before but... something seemed off. However, you didn't know Jon well enough to know what exactly that meant.

He gestured out the doorway smiling slightly, "Shall we?"

Pausing you nodded, a slur of worries being pushed back in your mind as you smiled, "Of course!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Surprisingly, despite the early hour, Nonna's was in fact open. You were not in fact Nonna's first customers; however, you were able to get your order in. You had to wait but waiting for Nonna's goodies was worth it.

Though, Jon was acting a bit odd. Looking at his phone frequently as he shifted from one foot to the other, eyes darting to the door every once in a while. After nearly ten minutes of this behavior, you were suspicious. Elbowing his side, you tilted your head and opened your mouth to ask him what was going on when Nonna called out your name. You moved to get your order, smiling at Nonna from behind the counter.

"Here's what you asked for piccolina, I added some extra's since you and that patatino," She gestured to Jon who was staring at the door frozen, "over there are looking a little thin."

You nodded smiling, as you took your bag and hot chocolate from her, happy for the food but worried as the pins and needles stabbed into your neck and shoulders, dancing around your heart.

"Buongiorno Nonna."

"Torna Presto, Piccolina!"

Nonna beamed as she moved on to her next customer. Turning back towards Jon you moved towards him, brow furrowed as you stopped at his side.

"What the heck, are you okay Jon?"

He didn't reply, instead he stiffed as the bell to Nonna's rang. His eyes locked on who just entered as he took a breath in slowly. Confused, you looked to see what was making him so still.

Standing in the doorway, disheveled and sweating was none other than Damian Wayne. The two of you made eye contact and you felt the air and color leave you. Heart hammering, you froze for a singular moment, long enough to see the recognition and relief in his eyes.

Something warm blossomed in your chest, a wave of joy that wrapped around your throat. It squeezed at your heart as a bitter taste coated your tongue and you weakly took a breath in. He was here, he was here. It was almost instinctual to lean in and hug him. To start some sort of physical contact as if you make sure he was here-truly here. Then the tight pulsing of your veins and breathing of your lungs yanked you back into reality. He- he had betrayed you, he- he had abandoned you. Pulling back, you squeezed your hand into a fist, eyes raking over him before noticing the movement just beyond his shoulder. No, the person behind him. She looked a little frazzled, but still as perfect as ever. Looking back to Damian the sluggish feeling of betrayal up your spine.

A wave of emotions fierce and roaring climbed up your throat as you backed away from the door. For a moment you couldn't breathe, and the world was spinning as a realization crashed down around you.

He was here.

Why was he here? Why did he have to come just as you were starting to get numb to all those emotions? Why did he have to come after you just made it past an episode? Why did he come? Why? Why?!

Swallowing you pushed back your worries and fears, back the questions and pain. Gripping your hot chocolate tighter as you let out a slow breath, then you began walking towards the door. Hoping your nonchalant attitude would make them ignore you or so baffled you could slip past. As you made it to the doorway, you began to slide towards the street, outside of the store-the place with no escape, to the open and free air that allowed you the opportunity to turn and leave.

Unfortunately, your hopes were in vain. A hand clamped down on your arm, pulling you in. And you blinked, looking to find Damian Wayne practically towering next to you. Eyes frantically racing over your face and body, worry covering every feature as you felt his heavy breaths on your skin. Hell, his heaving chest nearly touched your arms as you felt his heat.

"Y/N."

Taking another breath you gave him a blank look, your eyes instantly drawn to your sister loitering behind him. A muddled mixture of emotions on her face.

"If," You began calmly, your eyes locking on his nose, so you don't have to look into his eyes, "you're here because you think I'm trying to steal Jon or poison him against you, you should know I'm not. And there's no reason to worry."

You saw his jaw twitch and his grip tightened on your arm as he pulled you in even closer. Faintly, you could feel Jon lingering behind you. Clearly watching and waiting for a moment that deemed too much for you or a spot to intervene.

"I am not here because of that."

You bit the inside of your cheek as you looked away from Damian's face. Eyes once again drawing to your sister, whose brow was furrowed, a scowl of sorts on her face.

"Then why are you here?" You softly asked nails digging into your palm as you looked towards the floor.

"I'm here for you."

Snapping up, you raised your head and made the unfortunate mistake of meeting Damian's gaze. There was some kind of pain you noticed in his eyes. Pain, worry and something you refused to believe was real.

Longing

Looking away you tried to focus to stay calm, but your heart refused to listen.

Liar one side of it hissed

For me? the other side sobbed

Pushing down your feuding heart, you tried to think, think of the real reason he could be here. It took just a moment for you to come to what you thought was a viable conclusion.

He was here to show you how awful you really were.

He was here to prove he was in the right, and you were wrong.

To show that you weren't good enough.

That your sister was and that's the whole reason he chose her was because you weren't good enough.

Because you weren't enough.

The air stopped in your chest, and it was then you noticed your sister's gaze locked on Damian's hand gripping your arm. Forcing a breath you swallowed, your free hand to touch the one holding you there.

Almost instantly, Damian let go of your arm, his brows creased as his gaze flicked, just for a moment to Jon. Quickly looking back at you, almost as if he was scared, you'd disappear or be gone since he took his eyes off of you, Damian let out a long breath. Then, he stepped back until he was on the sidewalk, out of the doorway but blocking any escape onto the street.

Part of you hated that he knew you well enough to know you'd try to escape. Knew you well enough to know cornering you in a public place would not only make you even more hostile but frustrated people knew your personal business. Damian knew you well enough to know that even though you wanted to run, you did not want to impede on others.

Grinding your teeth, you exited Nonna's. You didn't have much of a choice other than moving out of the doorway fully and standing so close to Damian you were practically pressed into his side.

His hand was brushing your cheek, and you found a frown searing itself into his face.

"There is a bruise forming... what happened? How did this occur? Did someone harm you? Who hurt you?"

It took everything in you not to shove him away screaming,

YOU

YOU HURT ME

YOU CONTINUE TO HURT ME, OVER AND OVER AGAIN!

when will you stop hurting me?

Instead, you gently moved his hand from your face and tightly smiled your eyes drifting to Jon, confused why he hadn't stepped in or tried to help you escape yet.

"I'm fine, I just fell earlier. It was an accident, don't-" You stopped.

Don't worry.

Why did you need to say that? Why did you need to reassure him you were okay?

Why why why?

"You fell?" Damian murmurs, eyes narrowed, clearly unconvinced.

"Yes," You retorted, taking in a breath, "I was running around the apartment and my foot caught a chair leg. Ask Jon, he was there."

"I know."

Stepping closer to you, your sister cleared her throat, smiling tightly, fully capturing your attention, "Y/N how are you liking Metropolis?"

"It's fine," You began narrowing your eyes as you looked her over, "why-"

Before you could even finish your question, she interrupted gesturing to Jon with a smug look on her face.

"Is he your boyfriend?"

"Who, Jon? No, no. He's my friend, a good friend, but just a friend."

Part of you wanted to look at Damian as you said this, but you kept your composure enough to keep your gaze on S/N. However, she rolled her eyes at your comment almost as if she didn't believe you. And there was a look on her face that made something in you snap. Taking a step closer to her you scowled, crossing your arms.

"What the hell are you doing here anyways? I thought you were happily living in Gotham now," You hesitantly shot Damian a look before turning back to her, "I thought you both were."

Your sister weakly laughed, "Well, things have been... interesting. Adjusting to living in a new city is difficult, you should know that."

"I'm doing perfectly fine here; in fact, I was doing great until you- until the two of you showed up."

S/N blinked in surprise almost recoiling from your words. She opened her mouth, clearly prepared to spin a sob story to make you feel bad when Damian pulled you away from her.

"Be quiet, S/N."

"But Da-"

"I said quiet. It is atrocious enough that you followed me here. I do not need you aggregating things with Y/N by lying again."

"It's not lying exactly-"

There was a loud crash that rocketed you all straight into silence. You paused, looking around before taking a step forwards, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from.

At first you couldn't even see past the roof of the stores just beyond Nonna's. But as you slid into the empty street, you noticed a blur of colors. A familiar blur of colors.

Red and Blue.

"Oh shit," You whispered as an alarm of sorts began to blare.

You turned to shout to the others what was going on when a blast of sorts had you stumbling backwards. Looking up you saw a building tumbling towards you.

Blinking, everything seemed to go deathly still as a low whirling began in your ears. You turned, your eyes slowly blinking again as the building got closer to you and figures- blurred figures raced towards you as the whirling rose to a rumble then a voice, shout- no screaming your name. Before dust and rubble covered your eyes and something heavy struck your head sending you into pitch black darkness.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Dust and what must have been ash floated in the air. Catching on your eyelashes and blurring your vision as you stirred. Blinking to find heavy rock and metal-rubble surrounding you. Wincing, you shifted in an attempt to get on your feet when you heard a groan.

Turning, you found just a few feet behind you a dusty and twitching person. Rubbing the dust away before you got closer you noticed a slab of concrete, a crimson splotch barely visible just on the area it made contact with the person's leg.

Moving closer, you noticed the familiar figure- the face and eyes. Moving closer you realized it was Damian. Going still you bit your lip as he grunted, clearly waking up.

Part of you wanted to just stare, to wait for him to notice you. But you also- the pain in your chest grew at the sight of him. Fallen and pinned, injured-bleeding; he was hurt. And-and in front of you. How could you just stand by and watch?

How was he even here? He was far away when the building fell and yet-here he was.

Moving closer you began to focus on his pinned leg, he blinked clearly trying to sit up.

"What are you doing here?" You muttered as you crouched near the slab.

"Pardon?"

"What are you doing over here! You should be by Nonna's safe from falling rubble and being trapped in a growing hellhole!" Peering around the slab, you noticed it wasn't too large. And there was definitely enough room for you to lift it up.

"You-"

"I what?" You snapped, shooting him a glare.

He hesitated, seeming to realize what you were doing as you took in a deep breath and slid your fingers under the concrete.

"I was attempting to reach you. To-to- remove you from danger."

You froze, air stopping in your lungs as sweat coated your hands. Gripping the slap harder you yanked upwards, heart racing. The slab rose just enough for his leg to slip free. Rolling, he cursed and scrambled away from the slab as the sweat weakened your grip and the slab fell back in place.

Silence overcame the two of you and you sighed deeply before remarking, "... you pushed me out of the way of falling rubble?"

"It is possible that situation occurred."

"Damian-"

"It is my belief that in consideration of our current... situation, we would be at a loss in continuing to bicker on what exactly occurred so that I would result in being confined here with you."

"Then what exactly should we be doing?"

"Perhaps we can discuss what truly occurred in reference to when your sister came to Gotham."

Your teeth sank onto the inner part of your cheek as you let out a hissing breath. Nails digging into the palm of your hands as you turned to him.

Frustrated, sad and-and angry.

Angry that this whole situation came about and that you were being pushed once again to listen. To understand. That what happened was always going to happen.

But part of you... part of you wanted to listen. To hear his explanation and get rid of the ever-growing pit of abyss in your chest. To listen and understand what he did. That it never really was between you and her. That you were enough and that, that.... he would choose you.

However, you knew it was too late for something like that to occur. He had chosen her. Just as everyone else did, just as everyone always will.

You were never and will never be anyone's first choice. Especially when your sister was an option. Especially when you were just simply you. Not something greater or grander like she was, like others will be.

So, you need to make a choice. Hear him out, listen to the same story you've heard hundreds of times before or sit in the unknowing. Questioning whether or not it actually was the same, whether or not you weren't enough. Questioning if he really did choose her over you.

And you weren't exactly good with questions, with curiosities and wonderings. But you were tired of hearing all the reasons your sister was better...

Maybe this time will make you realize the truth. Maybe this time, hearing the words of devotion to your sister from someone who you so deeply loved and trusted would make you realize it will always be her. Maybe it will make you realize you need to stop hoping and wishing and wanting it to be you. Because in the end it never will be.

Swallowing, you relaxed your hand and jaw. Sinking onto the dusty ground with a sigh you shrugged.

"Fine, fine. Why the hell not, tell me your little sob story. I'll listen. I won't cry or shout or say you're lying. Tell me the truth and it will all be over."

He began pulling himself across the ground closer to you. You locked your jaw, wincing before going still.

"It- There- A misunderstanding occurred. I wish to rectify this, because... for a lack of superior terminology, it is not what you think."

You raised an eyebrow as he slid even closer to you, sweat beading on his brow. Mixing with the dust and dirt that clung to his face, sliding down his face drawing your eye to his face- his jaw and- no.

"Really now?" You sneered.

"Y/N-" He began and you rolled your eyes.

"Damian stop with the antics, call me as you usually do."

"... I regularly address you in this manner."

"Wha- no- wait..." You paused blinking a few times as faint memories raced across your mind, with his voice always calling you by your first name, "when did you stop calling me by my last name?"

"Is that what you truly wish to know?"

You took a risk and met his gaze, seeing the unwavering determination in his eyes. Almost as if he'd tell you anything you wanted to know.

"Y- no. No, just continue, continue please."

He paused for just a moment before nodding weakly and continuing, "When your sister first arrived in Gotham, I was... concerned. You had previously stated that your accounts could be biased. Therefore, I desired to comprehend the truth in your... contemptuous relationship. Thus, I enacted a strategy to ascertain your sister's true intentions."

Strategy... a plan-he- he wait

"You-you... you wanted to know what my sister wanted with me?"

Eyes still locked onto each other you watched him sigh heavily, his jaw locking as he readjusted himself.

"In essence, I yearned to distinguish if your belief is correct or if your judgment was clouded due to... past grievances."

He...wa-he wanted to know the truth. Was there really anything wrong with that? After all he wouldn't have come all this way if he... if he truly chose your sister.

Speaking of your sister... what- what did he find that made him- made him decide to lie to you??

"... And what exactly did you discover?"

At this he broke eye contact and your stomach dropped. You were wrong, you were wrong she wasn't trying to hurt you. She wasn't being cruel. oh lord what had you done-

"You- you... your perspective on the matter is accurate. Extensively accurate. In fact, according to my comprehension, your sister not only dislikes you- but she wishes to have you... under her control."

wait, you were right? You were right? Then- then what exactly was she trying to do? Why was she so cruel? Why did he use those methods to discover this?

"So, you're telling me that you flirted with and went on a date with my sister because you wanted to know what her intentions with me were?"

"That is correct."

"And... she hates me."

Damian winced as he attempted to slide even closer to you. It was then you realized how you were leaning back, shoulders straight, arms crossed and nails in palm. Tense you were so tense.

"Hardly, rather she- well rather it appears to me she is... envious of you."

This startled you. What, what on earth could he mean by envious?

"Envious?”

"Ugh, perhaps the word jealous provides more clarity."

"She's-... she's jealous of me?" You were barely able to get the words out as your shoulders sank and Damian's hand brushed against your leg.

He shifted once again, pulling himself so he was seated at your side. He was panting and his brow was soaked in sweat.

"That is how I have come to understand it."

It- none of this made any sense.

"Why?"

"As far as I was able to discern, she envy's your strength against society and peer's ideals on who you are and how you should behave."

He reached out, gently grabbing your hand and holding it in his own as you stared at the rubble surrounding the two of you. There was more silence when he squeezed your hand. You turned to him and he half heartedly gestured to his leg before remarking,

"Is this not when you scold me for causing further injury to myself? Better yet, why have you not voiced any complaints or objections to my actions?"

"Because you did it to yourself, who am I to tell you what to do?" You snorted rolling your eyes as you took his hand in return, "besides would you have actually listened to me?"

"I do not believe I would."

"Exactly."

For a moment or two, it almost felt as though everything was going back to the way it was supposed to be. In fact, you were just about to lean into him when a thought crossed your mind.

why did he hide it? Why did he not include you? Why keep it from you?

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He was quiet and you swallowed, waiting for the weak explanation of how he realized he didn't like you all that much. Instead, you got,

"I- wished to inform you of my discoveries... but only after I obtained a method to prevent her from ever... from allowing her envy to create contention between the two of you."

Contention... wait-wait was- was he trying to protect you?

"You- you were trying to figure out how to prevent her from being mean to me?"

"I was attempting to, but... you ran away."

A heat of sorts rose up in your chest and burned away the fleeting sensation of relief and regret.

"I did not run away," You snapped, pulling your hand from his as you glared, "I left."

"I apologize," He said, his face pale as he reached out for you once again, "It seemed, at the time, that you were running."

It wasn't a wrong assumption exactly but... how- how did he-

"How did you find me?" You whispered.

"I- I will give you this information under an immovable condition."

You raised your head brow furrowed with suspicion rising in your throat, "And what is that?"

"You- you cannot act and must think through all I will tell. You must listen because there is much I will say."

Someone- someone had given you up. Someone had betrayed you...again.

"Fine."

"My... family, those who knew, would not even acknowledge your absence. So do not worry, they still hold your confidence in high regard."

You relaxed slightly, swallowing as a weight on your shoulders lifted. Making eye contact you raised an eyebrow and nodded.

"I searched for any trace and found none. It is my belief that Gordon erased your tracks... regardless I- i had begun to lose hope when... when Kent reached out to me."

You froze, your chest tightening as your nail instinctively stabbed into your palm. Biting your lip, you looked away as a heavy darkness clouded your mind. Clutching onto your shoulders and sinking into your skin as a pain of sorts danced across your veins.

"He was... concerned about my wellbeing. And soon, yours. He informed me he knew of your location, but it wasn't until he said you were looking gaunt- that it was evident not only with your action but with your appearance. You- he said-" Damian paused, swallowing as it seemed almost as if he was in pain as he continued, "you were suffering. And that though he did not wish to betray you, your welfare was far more important."

This was, this was odd. You had never experienced someone- someone doing something for your own good even though you were against it.

"Jon- Jon told you where I was because he was worried?"

"Yes, he- he ordered me to come to your side," Damian chuckled, "To explain and clarify what occurred. That he could not bear to see you in such a state for any longer."

"Ah... and you didn't originally tell me because-because you were trying to protect me?"

Damian blinked a few times, turning to you, confusion clinging to his features as you noted his flushed cheeks, more than likely due to his strenuous efforts to reach your side, "Pardon?"

"You approached my sister, trying to figure out what she wanted because you didn't want me to get hurt. You even wanted to come up with a plan to stop her from hurting me. So, you wanted to protect me."

He tilted his head and shrugged, eyes raking over your face as if he was taking it in for the first time.

"With it phrased in that manner, yes. It appears that way."

"why."

"What?'

"Why did you-" You hesitated faintly recalling Damian calling you friend and you stopped.

You knew why he did it. At least most of it. A better question to ask- a question ringing in your mind over and over again was,

"Why didn't you tell me from the beginning?"

"I- I am afraid I do not understand."

"Why didn't you tell me you were planning on figuring out what my sister wanted? Why did you lie to me? Why did you hide this from me?"

"I feared it would harm you."

"How?"

"You- you tend to be... excessively sensitive with matters involving your sister. I did not want you to... worry whether or not your intentions or beliefs about what happened with your sister were incorrect."

You paused, something sparking in your chest. A light of hope or joy. Something warm and happy that began to spread, the fact he knew you well enough to know you'd think that way-

But it didn't entirely make sense.

Damian would usually be there with you shaking his arms crossed as he sighed at your thoughts. Saying something along the lines of "you need not think that way. While I loathe to admit it, I made mistakes as well. And as Father has said, to make mistakes is human.... though I doubt he himself follows this proverb."

Looking him over you raised your head, eyes once again narrowed. Suspicion-a light more curious suspicion- rose up on your skin. Itching and crawling as confusion clouded your mind.

"What doesn't make sense."

He blinked, looking to you his brow furrowed pain etched into his face as he let out a ragged breath.

"I would appreciate some elaboration."

"That reason doesn't make sense."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You-... just as well as you know me Damian, I know you. And I know that me being worried I was wrong about my sister is not a good enough reason you'd keep that plan from me."

He faltered, wincing as he avoided your eyes, "It- at the time it appeared to me that you were... compromised emotionally due to your sister's unexpected arrival. I did not want to-to pressure you more with this... scheme of mine."

You snorted, crossing your arms as you gave him an irritated and amused look.

"Damian, even after my grandma died, who I was really close with. After I got back from her funeral, you still felt the need to tell me I was lacking when on patrol."

He shifted, eyes drifting away from you, his jaw locked.

"I do not understand how that circumstance and the present conversation connect."

"You are lying to me right now. I don't know why, and I honestly don't really care. I just want the truth."

He breathed out a heavy sigh before meeting your gaze, "I have grown a great deal since then. I now better understand what is appropriate and what is not."

"Damian."

Something stirred in you, it ached that he was still lying and-and you couldn't understand why. You didn't care about why truthfully. As long as you knew the truth, he could keep all the secrets about why he had lied that he wanted.

"I am telling you the truth." He seethed.

"I don't believe you; it doesn't make sense."

"Y/N-"

"Why would you do that?" You threw your hands up, shaking your head in confusion, that ache turning into a burning flame" Why would you care all of the sudden-"

"BECAUSE I HAVE AMOROUS FEELINGS FOR YOU!"

The flame went out and all of the anger and frustration disappeared in the blink of an eye. You tilted your head, confusion overtaking everything, "...what?"

"I have amorous feelings... for you."

Confusion grew and grew buzzing in your chest and throat. None of this made sense what- amorous, what in the hell did that mean?

"I- I don't understand, Damian what are you saying-"

He pressed on, "Just as you told me when saying goodbye, it hurts to see you in such a state-it burns me alive to harm you in any way because- because."

Your throat went dry the confusion beginning to fade, "Damian-"

"Because I am in love with you."

The world went still and you couldn't breathe. His words ringing over and over again in your mind.

Because I am in love with you

I am in love with you

love

A faint shifting sound caused you to let out a breath, air flushing in and out of your lungs.

"You-you... what?"

"I, myself, do not fully comprehend the scope of these... emotions. However, I am not going to deny them any longer."

His voice dropped, and he reached out, taking your hands in his, pulling you in closer.

"I am in love with you, when I heard you say that you felt the same and-and that I had hurt you. It nearly destroyed me. Especially since I could not fix my mistake. Especially because I could not comfort you. I could not even see your face. But your voice- I heard all the pain and sorrow I had caused." He released your hands and cupped your face pressing his forehead against yours, "Knowing I had done that in an attempt to keep you safe- that it was all my fault... I have not slept since you left. I have not ate- I have not lived since you left me."

You swallowed heat racing across your cheeks as you met his gaze. That longing you saw earlier burning so much brighter. The regret and sorrow swirling in between his eyes as you felt the tremble in his grip.

"I regret every action of mine that led me here- that hurt you. And I ask you to forgive me for my lunacy-for my arrogance and stupidity."

Head spinning you breathed slowly, confused and-and happy. He- he hadn't betrayed you.

"Seeing you once again-I... " He paused, shifting his grip, "I could not breathe for a moment. You- you were so stunning standing before me.... I understand if you-you feel different, but I beg of you. Please let me stay by your side. I care not if it is in Gotham or here. I- I am certain that without you- without your mere presence I will not survive."

In fact, he was always on your side. Always. He never chose he- it was- it was always you.

He chose you

You

You squeezed your eyes shut, heart hammering in your chest as your eyes burned and something warm slipped down your cheek.

"Oh-ah I- I apologize. I did- I did not intend-"

Something bubbled in your stomach almost making you laugh at his worry and frantic words that happened merely because of a few tears.

"Damian I'm okay," You whispered, opening your eyes seeing the panic on his face as you sniffed, "Happy- these are happy tears."

"oh- I... so you are not angry with me?"

"No- no I'm happy," You replied wiping away your tears, "happy I was wrong, happy you feel the same and-and..."

Damian went still and you pressed your head fully against his closing your eyes.

"I love you Damian, I still do. And- I-i... I accept your apology. It will take time for me to-to be comfortable once again but... I am willing to try-try at something more."

Opening your eyes, you felt your face flush even darker as you could see the pure and utter joy on his face. He leaned in and you did as well, eyes beginning to flutter when there was a crash of sorts.

Your eyes flew open, and you found just a few feet away from where you and Damian sat was now a hole. A gaping hole that led outside-into the clear open air and warmth. Just outside of the hole a figure floated faint streams of light catching to reveal colors to you.

Red and Blue.

Weakly laughing you raised a hand, "uh, ha, Hey Supes."

There was silence for a moment and Superman floated into the small alcove of rubble and dust. He looked at the two of you and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you both alright?"

You nodded slowly before hesitating, "Uh no- no."

You turned to Damian who was very pale and clinging to you. Swallowing you gestured to his leg turning back to Superman.

"His leg- it got caught under some stuff when we got stuck here. I think it might be broken or something."

There was a moment of silence before Superman flew closer to the two of you and in a second, he had pulled the two of you into his arms.

It was a matter of moments before you were outside, the sun bright as he set the two of you down. Pointing towards the paramedics nearby.

"You can get help there."

"Thank you!" You said with a smile as you grabbed onto Damian's arm.

Superman nodded with a smile before taking off, probably to help others. Damian half shuffled towards you wincing slightly and you began to reach for him when he said under his breath,

"And here I was desiring the opportunity to rescue you."

A heat rushed over you, and it almost seemed as if your body moved on its own. Your hands grabbing the collar of his shirt as you pulled him to you, pressing your lips against his.

There were a few moments, with your lips pressed against his, where nothing happened. Then, in an instant, with a wince of pain and body shaking, he grabbed onto your arm and kissed you back.

Heart, hammering you pulled away, almost panting as a slight feeling of regret coating your throat. Looking at his face you found a dazed look and released his shirt. Almost instantly he began tumbling towards the ground. Arms shooting out you captured him, pulling him close.

He winced muttering curses as he used your shoulder to pull himself up. Looking around you found people staring phones up and lights flashing.

"Oh shit," you whispered.

Damian shifted and you realized he wanted to move. Slowly walking half carrying him you began your trek towards the paramedics. Leaning against you he began muttering things,

"They will be relentless in their mockings for months."

Rolling your eyes, you steadied him, his head resting on your shoulder as you moved closer to the paramedics.

"Is it, all of this, the teasing and pain... is it all worth it?"

Shifting so he could look at your you he smiled, eyes locked on your face a soft and warm gaze- so heartfelt and yearning as he replied,

"If I am with you? Always."

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