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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

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Just Ask

Prompts: Hey… So, I was wondering if you could write a fic where one of the sides are dyslexic? Since that usually just ends as "Oh, I can't read, oh no!" and not like the actual neurodiversity it is. Yes, I admit, I want to relate to one too, but… Well. It'd be awesome if you would, but if that's too tall an order or too specific that's fine too. If you do, though, maybe college AU with roceit? -anon

Hi you're amazing! I love your writing and brand of writing and just I've read a lot of your stories and I love them all kskejejwuwugfhsv-

I was wondering, if you take requests, that maybe you could write a human AU with fake dating Roceit? With confident fat Janus because we need that! Or not, that's your choice!

(I sound like some snob asking for a highly specific coffee shi-) - anon

oh babe y'all wanted to be FED huh

Read on Ao3

Warnings: slight ableist/fatphobic language

Pairings: roceit

Word Count: 2487

Sometimes, you can get all of your work done in the library. Sometimes, people are ableists.

And sometimes there's something wonderful in finding out there's someone there for you as well.

Roman scrubs his hands over his face and sighs. Between waiting ages at the printer or absolutely destroying his retinas by staring at a screen for hours on end, he isn’t unhappy with making the choice to save the environment by using less paper but god.

“At least this pdf was convertible,” he mutters, scrolling down to see how many pages he has left. The last four weren’t and reading without the right font is a fucking pain in the ass.

Seven pages left. Great.

Roman focuses on the screen and starts to mutter under his breath again. Focus on the word, figure it out, make the sentence, move on. Pause to take notes, make sure it’s legible to read later, and repeat.

A computer and heavy bag thuds onto the table next to him and he jumps, almost knocking his coffee over. He looks up, glaring at the person who stares down their nose at him like he’s some sort of stain. Rude.

“You’ve been here for like, three hours, dude,” they say, like that’s supposed to justify their behavior, “move. I need this spot.”

Roman looks around. There’s like, four more tables open. “Can’t you just go sit somewhere else?”

“No! This is my spot! You can go sit somewhere else.”

“Well,” Roman mutters, glaring at his screen again, “I was here first. So you can either wait until I’m done or sit down.”

“Dude, I swear—“

“Excuse me,” comes a smooth voice that has no business being this polished in the fucking library, “is this person bothering you, sweetie?”

Roman turns around and his mouth drops open.

“J-Janus?”

Janus raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms and glaring at the dick with the heavy bag. Who, as a matter of fact, seems to be muttering and stuffing shit back into said bag.

“Sorry I’m late,” Janus drawls, still sounding way too confident and way too much like he knows what’s going on, “got held up after class.”

“Uh, no problem,” he mumbles, glancing over his shoulder to see the asshole is still standing there, “just, um…working.”

“Ah, well then, you won’t mind if I join you.” And with that, Janus sits down with a flourish, propping his chin up on his hand and fixing the asshole with an impressive look of disgust. “And you…you can leave.”

“Look, buddy—“

“My partner and I have work to do,” Janus says, swiftly cutting them off and making sure Roman has no idea what’s going on, “now leave.”

Roman’s really glad there was no ambiguity that Janus could’ve been talking to him, because he’s about ready to bolt. Only when the asshole has retreated does Janus turn his gaze to him.

“Sorry about that,” he says, flicking a speck of imaginary lint from his gloves, “he seemed like he was bothering you. Thanks for playing along.”

“Oh, uh, no, I’m, uh—“ Janus raises an eyebrow as Roman stumbles over his words— “sorry. Uh, thanks?”

Janus chuckles. “Oh, no worries, sweetie. I was happy to do it. Although…”

Janus squints at him and Roman fights the urge to squirm under that gaze.

“You’re in my seminar class, aren’t you?” Roman nods. “The one that let out three hours ago?”

“Yeah, uh-huh.”

“Have you…been here since then?”

Roman nods, trying to get back to work and, you know, maybe get out of here, only for Janus to reach across the table and still his hands as he goes to pick up the pen again.

“Have you eaten?”

“What?”

“Eaten,” Janus says slowly, mouth stretching into a smile, “lunch, sweetie.”

“Uh—“ no, is the correct answer— “I was going to?”

Janus just gives him a look.

“…no.”

“Mm.” Janus glances at his computer and notebook. “You’re not by any chance attempting to read all of the assignments in one go, are you?”

Roman’s guilty flush seems to answer that question for him. Janus sighs and it’s such an odd mixture of disappointment and fondness Roman hasn’t earned that his brain spits out the only question he actually wants an answer to.

“Why are you here?”

Janus chuckles. “In the library, at this school, or are we already to the point of questioning the very nature of existence?”

Roman just blinks at him.

“Oh, relax, sweetie, I’m teasing.” Janus glances off in the vague direction the asshole wandered off to. He leans a little closer. “I know how…difficult it can be to try and do work when they bother you.”

Roman’s cheeks flush. “Oh, uh…thanks, then.”

Janus waves a hand. “It’s none of their business why you’re doing so much work at once. Even if it does make you skip lunch,” he adds with such a pointed look that Roman can’t help splutter.

“I was going to! And you’re not my mother!”

“No,” Janus purrs, “but like any good partner, I like to make sure my sweetie takes care of themselves.”

Roman does not squeak, despite Janus’s chuckles, but he does start to fiddle with his pen. “I can’t…stop yet.”

“Why ever not?”

“Can you stop,” Roman blurts, scrubbing his hands over his blushing face, “please? For like, two seconds?”

“Sorry, you’re just adorable.”

“Stop, dude, seriously, if you want an actual answer to the question?”

“I’m done,” Janus chuckles, “I’m done, sorry.”

Roman takes a deep breath. He fiddles with the pen. “It’s just—with my dyslexia, it takes a while to…find the, um…”

“Zone?”

“…sure.”

Janus hums in understanding. Then he reaches into his own bag and pulls out a book of his own. “Then we may as well work together until you’re finished.”

Roman blinks. Hi, hello, brain is confused, what just happened in the last five minutes?

Janus waves a hand in front of his face. “Hello? Sweetie? You okay?”

“Sorry, I’m just—trying to process what happened.” Roman blinks again. “Because it seems like some asshole tried to take my seat, you came up and pretended to be my partner to scare them away, proceeded to badger me about taking care of myself, and now you’re…still here?”

Janus nods. “That’s how I experienced it too, that’s correct.”

“…so now what’re we doing?”

“Well, I’m also going to try and get some work done, you’re going to finish your work, and then we’re going to get lunch.”

“And what about the dude that now thinks we’re partners?”

Janus looks at him and shrugs. “I’m game if you are.”

Roman blinks again. Is…Janus suggesting they fake being in a relationship to, what, defend Roman’s right to sit wherever the fuck he wants for however long in a library?

“What’s in it for you?”

“Pardon?”

“You heard me,” Roman says, “what’s in it for you?”

Janus’s fingers still on the book he’s pulled out. He sighs and looks up at Roman.

“How long have you known about your dyslexia?”

Jumping around a bit here, aren’t we? “About six years, why?”

“And you know how to manage it? For you?”

“Uh, yeah, why?”

“That doesn’t mean it goes away,” Janus says softly, “it’s still work, you just…know how to do it now.”

“Yeah, it still takes me time to do things, why—“ Roman’s eyes widen— “oh. Oh, wait, you mean—wait, what do they have against you?”

Janus’s mouth tugs up into a smirk. “How sweet.”

“Shut up,” Roman mumbles, “you know what I mean.”

Janus just winks at him before sobering. “Well,” he says wryly, gesturing at himself, “surely you can understand that…not everyone treats you very well when you aren’t the circumference of a toothpick.”

Oh. They’re those kind of assholes. Something Janus chuckles about when that thought gets out before Roman can stop them.

“Quite. I can manage them, but it’s still work.” He looks at Roman. “Maybe we can split the load?”

“I’m down with that.”

“Wonderful. Now,” Janus says, mock sternly, “get back to work. We have lunch to get.”

Roman chuckles. “Sure, sure, don’t ask to borrow my notes.”

“I would never, I just forget things like a cool person and make things up that the professor likes to hear.”

Yeah, this is gonna go just fine.

As it turns out, it does. Roman won’t lie, he was…skeptical about the viability of this plan of theirs. He’s read the stories. He knows how this works. He knows about the misunderstandings and whether it’s a bet or a dare, something goes wrong.

But…nothing does.

Watching Janus tear anyone to shreds is entertaining enough in class, where Roman gives up on taking debate notes and just watches because goddamn, but when he gets to stand there and just glare at some ableist while Janus verbally decimates them? Poetic cinema. He debates sneaking some popcorn into his jacket pocket but that would take away from the power of his glare.

And it is nice to have someone else do the work of glaring assholes away from his table when he’s working on reading. He would be lying if he said that actually having someone else to talk to isn’t part of it. It’s so much easier to keep track of where he’s messing up so he can focus on it during his exercises later.

“You know,” Janus remarks as they leave the library one day, “you can ask the professors for editable pdfs.”

“Huh?”

“For your font stuff.” Janus nods toward his backpack. “I know you like to change the font so you can read it better, most of them have editable copies of the materials.”

“Not for the eBooks and scans and stuff.”

Janus huffs, waving his hand. “How do you think they get the audio transcripts for the recorded versions? They have to transcribe it anyway, just ask for those.”

Roman stops. “How…how do you know those exist?”

Janus just taps the side of his nose and winks.

“Can…can you do that?”

“Of course.” Janus links his arm through Roman’s. “Anything for you.”

That shouldn’t do what it does to Roman’s chest.

Because yeah, okay, maybe Janus is…really cute.

Like, unfairly cute.

No one should be able to rock that hat all the time. And the gloves. And the pocket watch. And the curly hair. And the attitude. And the impressive vocabulary. And the razor-sharp wit. And he actually knows how to flirt! What is flirting? All Roman knows is Gay Panic™ and Suffering™. What is this? Why is it allowed?

And why, oh why, did Janus have to be the one that started the fake-dating idea?

Because here’s the thing. It would be so easy to just be friends with Janus. It would! They’re already friends now, fake-dating kind of does that to you. And Janus, despite what he wants everyone else to believe, is a fucking dork. His actual laugh is squeaky and bubbly and ugh, Roman could drown in it. And he’s really kind. It’s not the same breed of kind that Roman’s used to, but goddamn, Janus is so sweet when he lets himself be. And it’s been so long since Roman had like, an actual friend…

But it would also be so easy to be more than friends with Janus. To actually be able to take him out for dates and not just lunch at their janky cafeteria. To be able to spend time together that isn’t just for show, or platonic, or just hanging out ranting about stupid dead supposed-to-be-smart people.

Again, Roman’s read the stories. He knows how this is supposed to go.

So when he takes a little longer to pack up one day, enough that Janus notices and eases himself back down into his seat with a soft, real, ‘what’s wrong, sweetie, let me help,’ Roman prepares the bittersweet ‘nothing, I’m fine,’ and to swallow down everything real.

But instead…

“Can we, um, actually date?”

Janus blinks. “Come again, sweetie?”

Roman fiddles with the buckle on his bag. “I, um, I really appreciate what we’ve been doing, and I, um, I’m super happy being your friend…”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“…but I, um—“ god, why are words so hard?— “I think I would actually like to try…dating you. For real.”

He peeks up nervously at Janus.

“Is…is that okay?”

Janus sits there, silent. He blinks a few times. Then a slow, real smile spreads across his face.

“Roman,” he says softly, almost too quiet, even in the hush of the library, “why do you think I proposed this idea in the first place?”

Oh.

Roman blinks. “Wait, you—you?”

A pretty flush covers Janus’s face. “Well, I…was planning to ask you normally, but then I saw you being absolutely tormented and…panicked.”

“You panicked?”

He throws his hands up. “Well, what was I supposed to do? The most gorgeous person in my seminar was being bullied and I was supposed to just let it happen?”

Wait. Back up. Roman is what?

“And yes, maybe I...wanted an excuse to be your friend first, but as I said, I panicked and so—“

“You—wait, you think I’m pretty?”

Janus stops, mouth open, before he’s scoffing. “Roman, have you seen yourself?”

“Uh—“

“At least you’re pretty,” Janus mutters under his breath, “pretty and dumb, but pretty.”

“Hey!”

“You can be big of brain and dumb of ass at the same time, sweetie.”

“Oh, says the man whose idea was to fake-date me because you wanted to actually ask me out!”

“I will not be lectured on dramatics from a theater kid.”

“That’s ex-theater kid to you.”

“Oh, you know once you go, you never come back.”

Roman giggles. Then he’s laughing. Janus joins in and oh, this is much better than shoving feelings down and pretending they don’t exist.

“You’re such a fucking dork.”

“No,” Janus purrs, reaching over to boop the end of Roman’s nose, “I’m your fucking dork.”

Oh. Oh, that sounds…really good. Roman’s chest is really warm now, when did that happen? Janus smiles too.

“So…dinner?”

“You’re paying.”

“I’ll pick you up at six.”

General Taglist: @frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @aularei @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @cecil-but-gayer @i-am-overly-complicated @annytheseal @alias290 @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask @crows-ace @emilythezeldafan @frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires @cyanide-violence @oonagh2 @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx @rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734 @triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo @cerulean-watermelon @puffed-up-bees @meltheromanstan @joyrose-fandomer @insanitori

If you want to be added/removed from the taglist, let me know!

#dragonbabbles #fic #sanders sides #roman sanders #deceit sanders #janus sanders #sympathetic deceit

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rainydaydream-gal18 · 3 years

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Cal Kestis x Reader (Continued 4) The Proposal

OG Request: can i request that you write some cal kestis since you haven't written him in so long? how about one where the whole mantis crew helps him propose to the reader? it can even be like a part 4 to the "training" series lol

Author’s Note: I am SO sorry at how long this took me to post. I got hit with writer’s block so bad, and this week, I ended up getting sick. It’s been tough to find time and energy to write, but again, I am sorry at how long it was. I do hope you enjoy it!!!

"I've never seen you like this," Greez commented, lifting a brow skeptically. He planted his hands on his hips as he watched Cal make a cup of caf. It was a task the young jedi had done many times without fail since he was the definition of balance, but somehow, he had managed to spill his cup on the counter.

Cal lifted his brows only slightly as he tried to act casual. “What do you mean?”

“What’s got you so worked up?” Greez asked. “You seem off...Not quite sure what it is…”

Years of training had given Cal Kestis the ability to hide. He’d hidden from the Empire for so long on Bracca. He had concealed his identity without issue until that fateful day when he rescued his coworker and friend- an event that began quite the adventure. Still, even so, he hadn’t been able to conceal his nervousness from the Mantis pilot. His gaze flickered to Cere, who was quietly sipping her own cup of caf from the dining booth.

Her amusement at the interaction was palpable. Cal could see the slightest smile on her lips which she hid behind her mug as she took another sip, eyes trained to the table in front of her.

What would she say if she knew the truth? Would she be so amused? As worried as Cal was that his mentor would disapprove of his choice, he was running out of time. This wasn’t something he could conceal.

“The truth is…” he paused, running a hand through his orange hair.

“What?” Greez prompted. “What is it?”

“I’m…”

Cere lowered her cup, the soft clink of the material against the table catching Cal’s attention. “You’re going to propose to _________.”

Cal gazed at her, lips parting in surprise.

“Very perceptive of you, Greez,” she continued, eyes flicking to the pilot. “To have caught that something was going on with our Cal. However-” she met Cal’s gaze coolly “-the nervous excitement was coming off him in waves.”

Cal exhaled, shoulders lowering as he braced himself for some sort of sagely warning about the path he was choosing, but Cere merely smiled.

Greez's jaw dropped straight to the floor. "You...you what?" He chuckled quietly at first before bursting into joyful laughter as he approached Cal. “Congratulations, kid!”

He smiled appreciatively at the support, but shook his head. “She hasn’t said ‘yes’ yet.”

Greez shifted his stance, resting a hand on his hip. "What, you think she'll say 'no'?"

“Yes, I mean...no...We’ve talked about it, but I just don't know how to do it.”

Cere surprised him further by rising from the booth. “Need some help?”

He tilted his head. “You’d do that? But I thought…”

“The order is gone, Cal,” she replied. “As members of this crew, we’ve already done some things the Council would have disapproved of. I think after all these years of sorrow, a little joy is something we need.”

Cal nodded. “Thank you.”

“So wait,” Greez shook his head. “You want our advice? On how to propose? A former monk and a lonely pilot...what could go wrong?”

- - - -

“Hey there, uh, kid.”

You smiled, dabbing at a few beads of sweat that glistened on your forehead. “Hey, Greez. How’s it going?” You gave your arms a little stretch, holding back the groan that threatened to spill from your lips at the dull ache. Cal had assigned you to an arduous training session all afternoon. It was unexpected, but you were up to the challenge. Upon returning to the Mantis, you found no sign of your boyfriend, or Cere for that matter.

There was only Greez, who averted his gaze nervously. You got the distinct feeling that he was hiding something. Something big.

“Everything alright?” you asked, testing the waters.

“Alright? Uh, yeah. Yeah. Everything’s alright. Why wouldn’t it be? Is everything alright with you?”

You fought a smile as he fumbled his way through the somewhat defensive response. “Yeah, I’m done with training for the day. I’m just looking for Cal, actually. Have you seen him?”

“Yes, I mean, no...I may have seen him… He went somewhere.”

“He did? Did he say where?”

Greez fell silent then, and you raised your brows incredulously at him. The stubborn pilot wasn’t going to talk. Your suspicion grew, especially when his nerves seemed to spike even more. With a shrug, you headed back toward your bunk. Cere wasn’t anywhere to be found either.

What if there was a new development with the jedi order? Even though the holocron containing the location of force-sensitives across the galaxy had been taken care of, the Mantis crew had not lost hope that someday the jedi would return. Perhaps something had come up. Still, you weren’t sure why that would mean that both he and Cere would need to discuss it elsewhere. It wasn’t like Greez couldn’t be trusted. Or you.

As you changed out of your training clothes, your hand brushed over the hilt of your lightsaber. You gripped the handle and removed it from your belt before doing so with the second saber you had constructed some time ago. The weight in your hands no longer felt foreign and unsettling. The sabers had become part of you. They were not just weapons; they were tools. They were tools to defend those you loved and to usher in peace when the time was right.

You set them down and continued changing into your gear.

For years, you’d heard stories of the jedi old. You’d never imagined becoming one. You’d never imagined to have a mentor as young and handsome as Cal. And you certainly never imagined falling in love the way you did.

The thought was bittersweet. You mourned for Cal and all that he had lost, but you were so glad to have found him. He was glad to have found you too. You could feel it every single day.

A knock on the door to your quarters pulled you from thought. “Yes?”

“Hey,” Greez said, poking his head in. “He’s waiting for you.”

“He’s...waiting for me?” You watched as he disappeared from the doorway before shaking your head. “This day just gets weirder.”

- - - -

Greez had followed you off the ship and stayed close behind as you picked up on Cal’s trail. He insisted that he was not supposed to give you any hints- only that you were supposed to reach out with your feelings and find Cal on your own.

“Is this some sort of training exercise?” you wondered aloud. “Because I already finished training for the day.”

“Sorry, kid,” Greez shrugged. “It’s not for me to say.”

“But of course.” You smirked. “It’s never that simple.” You let your eyes slide shut as you reached out with your other senses. You took a deep breath, inhaling the lovely scents of the forest- leafy greens and even something sweet, like blossoms. There was a damp feel to the soil beneath your shoes. More clearly than the other things you felt, you sensed the familiar presence of Cal. He was nearby.

As soon as you began walking in that direction, Greez uttered a “woah.”

You paused, glancing at him over your shoulder. “What?”

“You jedi never cease to fascinate me,” he said. “You know where he is without even a hint.”

“It’s automatic at this point.”

“So, you...you two really love each other, huh?” he ventured.

You smiled and uttered a quiet, “yeah.”

The two of you walked through the forest. A familiar tingle in your feelings let you know that someone was just ahead. It was Cere. You’d recognize that presence anywhere after traveling with her for so long. She sat in the center of a small clearing, legs crossed and eyes shut.

“This is a training exercise, isn’t it?” you whispered under your breath at the sight.

Cere’s eyes opened, and her lips turned up in a smirk. “Cal’s waiting for you.”

“So I hear.” You wanted to shake your head in amusement, but if it was indeed a surprise training session, Cere was acting as a mentor, so you instead gave her a nod of respect. “Is there anything...Is there...What is my task?”

“That is something you will have to find out yourself. I wish you luck.” And with that, Cere rose from her seated position and gave you a nod before stepping aside. Greez stole a look and shrugged, immediately going to join her.

All the while a strange anticipation was growing in you. Part of it was curiosity on you part for this next step in your training, and part of it you chalked up to be Cal’s emotions mingling with yours. Even though you had no idea what was going on and why, something about the situation made you feel exhilarated. Like something amazing was about to happen.

You continued on your way, shooting your teammates one last curious look before vanishing farther into the forest. The tingling feeling changed. It was soon the distinct feeling that you got whenever Cal was nearby. You knew it before you saw him that he sensed your approach, but when you finally stepped into the clearing where he was waiting, you weren’t expecting the sudden drop of his heart. It was so sudden that you halted for a moment, thrown off by the swift shift in emotion. Nervousness. What did he have to be nervous about? You were the one being tested!

“Cal?” you ventured.

“___________,” he breathed out. It was like he struggled to breathe for a moment. You’d never seen him this way before.

“Is everything alright?” you asked, voice ticked up with concern.

“Ah, yeah,” He nodded, glancing down for a moment. “____________, I need to ask you something.”

As soon as he said that, your own heart dropped. It was nervousness at what you suspected was coming next, but it was a good nervousness. You immediately shifted, hands going over your heart as Cal walked over to you. There was a small part of you screaming to not give into the hope, just in case it wasn’t what you thought. Before the seeds of doubt could take root, Cal got down on one knee in front of you.

Bright afternoon sunlight poured in through the treetops, dancing along his skin with each gust of wind that shook the branches above. His eyes were fixed on you, glinting with a light you’d seen in him many times when he looked at you. It was love. Adoration.

“_____________,” he said, gently twining his fingers with those of your left hand. “I love you. As a jedi, I never thought I’d be able to go down this path….but here I am, and I’m so glad that I can. You’re the only one I’d want to go with.”

“Cal….” you murmured.

“Will you marry me?”

Even though you’d realized the words were coming, they still hit hard. Your vision blurred with tears as the emotions welled up within you. “Yes, I will. I love you, Cal.” And you pulled your hand from his only to wrap both your arms around his neck and plant a loving kiss to his lips.

Cal kissed you back passionately, leaving you with one last peck before he pulled away to take your hand again. His eyes darted up to meet yours before they focused on your finger as he slipped a ring on. Your tears hadn’t stopped.

“Cal, I’m so happy.” Then, a chuckle escaped your lips as you wiped your eyes. “I was wondering what all this was about. I thought it was a training exercise.”

“That was the idea,” he said with the shake of his head. “We thought it’d be more of a surprise that way.”

“‘We’?”

“Cere and Greez helped me out. I knew I wanted to put this ring on your finger, but I wasn’t quite sure how.”

“Thank you,” you called over your shoulder, and you were amused when Cere and Greez emerged from the brush. “Really, this was a lovely surprise.”

“I’m glad you thought so,” Greez said, clasping his hands together. He glanced between the two of you curiously. “So, when’s the wedding?”

#cal kestis x reader #cal kestis reader insert #cal kestis fanfiction #cal kestis x you #cal kestis imagine #cal kestis x y/n #greez #cere

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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

A History Lesson

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 4741

Warnings: Vulgar language, I think that’s it (it’s mainly fluff like Bucky’s)

Summary: You never were fond of history...but if history gives you a man like that? Maybe you could deal with it.

A/N: Here it is! A little later than I had hoped, but my brother is visiting, it was his birthday this week, work’s been a bit hectic, and I ended up writing a little something for Bucky’s birthday on Wednesday, which I didn’t mean to. I got it done, though! First Date with our dear Cap’n Spangles! I have all the First Date ideas for the other Avengers lined up, but I think I’m gonna put this on hiatus for now. I’m gonna try focusing on my College!AU at the moment. If you guys want, I’ll share my First Date plans, though. If I find time, I’ll write the next one. If you haven’t noticed, I have a fondness for collages, so I might do what I’m doing for my College!AU Project and make collages for the other First Dates before writing them. Anyways, enough with my ramblings. Enjoy the date!

You keep checking the clock, waiting for this lecture to be done. You typically enjoy school, but history isn’t a strong suit for you. You try in history, you really do, but all the information - the dates, people, places - it’s too much. You constantly mix things up, no matter how hard you study. And you don’t really get the hype. Who cares what these dead guys did? It happened, it’s done, and it’s time to move on.

“That’s all for today! Don’t forget your papers are due on Monday! You’re dismissed!”

You let out a groan at the mention of the cursed research paper. You had stayed up for hours the previous nights working on it, but so far you have squat. The essay is on the Second World War (more specifically the differences of life between Americans and Europeans at the time), and you know you should’ve done it when it was given a week ago, but your shitty memory makes it difficult to write a paper without five million textbooks in front of you and you don’t have time to go to the library every night between work, friends, and other projects. So, you haven’t done it yet.

Exhausted, mentally and physically, you collect your things and head out of the lecture hall. You pull out your phone to text your friends, telling them you have to work on a paper tonight and you can’t meet up for dinner like you all usually do on Fridays. Deciding to take a breather before working, you start out to the bench overlooking the Potomac River, which you always sat at to relax and just…be. The scenic walk through DC and the sight of the steady river flowing besides the busy city always calms you.

You sit there for a few moments, letting the slight breeze chill the skin that’s warmed by the sun, listening to it ruffle the trees. The blush pink blossoms that appear when Spring sings her song and chases away Winter flutter to the newly grown, bright green grass below. You enjoy all the seasons, unable to help but love the unique beauty each brings, and Spring is no exception, despite the allergies and tests she brings.

And speaking of tests…

A soft sigh passes your lips as you get out your laptop. You might as well start writing, or at least researching, that paper. You never were good at relaxing when there’s work to be done.

You’re so engrossed in getting the stupid essay done and over with that you don’t notice the jogger who pauses in his run by the very bench you are slaving away on. “Savin’ this seat for anyone?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, no. Go ahead.” You answer distractedly, not even looking up from your screen as the owner of the deep voice sits besides you.

A few more minutes pass in comfortable silence, before you ruin it with a grumble and delete half the paragraph you just wrote. “That doesn’t make sense.” You change tabs to look over the information on the page you have pulled up again, only to furrow your eyebrows. You’re pretty sure the information is wrong. You may have a shitty memory, but you’re sure that the information given on this page is in contrast to the information given in the book you were reading a couple days ago.

“What’re you workin’ so hard on there, honey?”

You let out a huff, throwing your hands up in the air in defeat. “Some dumb research paper for school! It’s on World War Two, and I can’t remember what’s right and what’s wrong and it’s a stupid topic anyways that my stupid teacher assigned! Who fucking cares about a hundred years ago? And how the hell am I supposed to know this? I wasn’t alive! You know what I…”

The words die on your tongue as you finally glance over at the stranger keeping you company.

Blonde hair that seems gold with the way the sun is hitting the strands, which are damp and in slight disarray due to his exercise. Bright blue eyes reflecting the sky above, hidden beneath long lashes that you’re immediately envious of. Pretty pink lips, matching the cherry blossoms on the trees surrounding you, pulling up into an amused sort of smile. The makings of a beard lining his jaw and littering his cheeks.

Steve Rogers. Captain America. You just ranted about how stupid history is to Captain fucking America. You just ranted about how you have to write a dumb essay on World War Two to Captain fucking America.

Ignoring the way your body heats up, starting in your toes and climbing up your legs, chest, and neck to reach the tips of your ears, a nervous little chuckle is all you can give. You clear your throat, trying to think of how to apologize. “I guess you wouldn’t know what I mean, huh?”

What in the ever loving fuck was that? That was not an apology!

You clear your throat and try again. “I-I mean…sorry. It’s not - I didn’t mean-”

“No, no. It’s fine, sweetheart.” The grin he shoots you makes you glad you aren’t standing up, knowing full well your knees would’ve buckled if you were. You open your mouth to apologize again, but he shakes his head before you can speak. “Really. It’s okay. I get it. I used to be a student too. And you’re right; it was a long time ago and there’s a lot of things that happened. Even I have a hard time keeping track of everything that went down.”

You merely blink at him, nodding slowly. Say something. For the love of God, please just say something. Anything! “Yeah. I can barely remember what I had for breakfast this morning.” Really? You’re sitting besides the one and only Captain America and that’s what you decide to say?

You feel yourself slump your shoulders slightly, trying to shrink down into absolute nothingness. But even that wouldn’t work because he’s got that friend of his that could shrink and he’d find you. It seems that you were destined to be embarrassed in front of one of the most beautiful human beings on the planet. Screw the universe.

Instead of teasing you or embarrassing you further, he chuckles and nods in agreement, his eyes lighting up. “You’re not the only one. My pal Clint has got the absolute worst memory. We tease him all the time for it. How he became an agent with the memory of a goldfish, I’ll never know.” You laugh at that, your muscles relaxing and your anxiety easing up.

“Yeah, well, I’ve gotta get through college before I’m in the clear.”

“Don’t worry about it, honey. I’m sure you’ll be fine. Uh…so, a World War Two paper, huh? Need some help? I’m kind of an expert on the topic.”

Breath hitching as he scoots closer, you swallow thickly and shrug. “I don’t want to bother you. You look like you’re in the middle of a run.” You gesture to the tight ass t-shirt hugging his torso that you’re sure is sizes too small for him and the joggers hanging off his hips.

Following your gesture, he looks down, before shaking his head. “Nah. I’ve already ran a few more miles than I was going to today.”

“Are-are you sure?”

There’s that grin again. You’re not sure you’ll be able to survive him tutoring you if he keeps giving you that adorable toothy smile. “Honest. I’ve got the rest of the day. We can go to the library if you want. Or we can stay here. Whatever works best for you. I don’t mind either way.”

You blink again, like an idiot, as you process his words. Whatever works best for you. What a gentleman. “Uhh…I was about to head to the library anyways, but I really don’t want to bother you-”

“Trust me, honey. It’d be my pleasure.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

You let out a soft laugh and nod at his insistence, starting to pack up your things. “Okay. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You stand up as he does and offer your hand.

“Steve. But I guess you figured that out.” Taking your hand, you expect him to shake it, but he squeezes it softly and brings it to his lips instead.

Clearing your throat, you tease him a bit to hide your bashfulness at his actions. “You’re a real gentleman, aren’t you?”

He shrugs with a slight smirk, gently dropping your hand and letting it go after another squeeze. “My momma raised nothing less.”

“I’m sure she’d be proud.”

His playful eyes go slightly more somber at that, his smirk morphing into a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Giving no reply, you smile softly and nod your head to the path. He nods back before quickly falling into step besides you, asking you more about your paper as you walk to the library.

* * * * * * * *

Giggling behind your hand to stay quiet, or at least attempt to since you both had already been berated by the librarians for being too loud, your attention is once again diverted to Steve and his stories.

It started out fine; he helped you find reliable books and told you which things were true. But not even half an hour passed before Steve told you a story about the Howling Commandos after something in a book reminded him of it. Your concentration since then has been split between your paper and Steve’s retelling of his past.

“Sorry. I keep distracting you. What’s next?”

You snicker again and shake your head. “No, no. It’s okay. I’m almost done anyways. I’ve actually written down a few things you said, if you don’t mind me using them. My professor can’t exactly argue with Captain America, now can he?”

His lips pull up and his shoulders shake in silent laughter. “I guess not. Of course I don’t mind. You can quote me anytime. See?” He nudges you with his shoulder playfully. “History isn’t so bad.”

“Not when you’re telling it.” You respond earnestly, grinning up at him.

“Eh, Bucky’s always been a better storyteller than me.” He gives a little shrug and rubs the back of his neck.

You shake your head at his modesty. “Well I think you do just fine. You’re the first person to get me interested in history. Hey, can you read this over for me? I just need to finalize this paragraph and do the conclusion.”

When you receive silence as an answer, you look over at the blonde with an eyebrow raised. The ocean eyes scanning over you make you a bit self conscious, so you shift slightly in your seat, making him come back from whatever thoughts overtook his mind. “Sorry. Of course I can, honey. That’s what I’m here for. Let me see.”

He gives you a few pointers on what to add and what to get rid of, before you finally finish, saving your work and closing your laptop with a huff.

“What a mind workout. I’m sure my brain’s got abs now.”

Heads swivel towards you two as Steve guffaws, a lady a few tables down shushing him. He apologizes, still snickering. “Abs, huh?”

“I mean, not as good as yours but…” You freeze, inwardly facepalming. And you were doing so well.

He gives you a cheeky grin. “I’ve got good abs?”

“Oh don’t give me that!” You hiss out quietly. “You know you have good abs. I’m just stating facts is all.”

Another soft chuckle leaves those pretty lips and he twists in his seat to crack his back before standing to collect the books you both got out. “When’s the paper due again?”

You stand to help him, but you get a case of the butterfingers just as you go to pick the books up, making the pile tumble to the floor. “Ah shit.” Steve smiles gently at you as you huff and give him an exasperated look. “My bad.”

He snickers, bending down to help you despite having his own books to carry, like the gentleman he is. “So? Due date?”

“Monday.” You answer with a sigh, straightening up. You carefully set the books on the table to pile them better. “We should get the grade back by Friday.”

He hums, taking a few more books in those strong arms of his. “Ah, well, you’ll get a good grade. I believe in you.”

You smirk at him as you shift your bag so you could carry books under your arms. “I’m sure I will with your help, Captain.” He scoffs and rolls his eyes at your teasing manner. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Of course. I had a good time.” He sends that stunning smile your way and this time you are standing. Luckily you have a table to lean on casually instead of falling on your face. “Plus, now you’ve got a free weekend.”

“Ugh. I wish.” You shake your head. “This is my final semester before I graduate. There’s loads to do. But this makes it easier.” Heading through the aisles of the library, you catch sight of the time on a clock on the wall and your eyes widen. You’d been there for a little over three hours! “Damn! I’m sorry I took up your Friday, though. I’m sure there’s things you want to do before you have to go back to New York, huh?”

Shrugging his broad shoulders, he runs a hand through his golden locks and drops the books he had in his arms on the desk for returns. “Not really. I’m here for the next couple weeks, actually. Meetings and stuff. Plus, it doesn’t even take me an hour to get here, so I can really come whenever I want.”

“That’s nice.” You follow his lead and set your books down, readjusting your bag on your shoulder. “I wish I could go to New York whenever I want. I’m way too poor for that.”

He chuckles again. You’ll never get tired of the sound of his laughter. “I’m sure you’ll get there one day.”

You shrug half heartedly, not really believing him. You’re barely making it in DC. There’s no way you could make it in the Big Apple. “Sure. Someday. I’m serious, though. I’m sorry you wasted your time with some stressed out college student instead of enjoying time with your friends.”

“I’m serious too, honey. It’s no problem; I enjoyed it. And it’s not a waste of my time. Not as long as you get a good grade.”

You laugh as the two of you head out of the building, stopping on the steps and facing each other. “How will you know if I get a good grade?”

He purses his lips in thought. “Meet me at the bench next Friday.” He finally said, his eyes sparkling. “Then we’ll see. Until then, Y/N.”

You grin, taking the large hand he offers you, firmly shaking it before he can kiss your knuckles, making him snicker. “Until then, Steve.”

* * * * * * * *

Feet pounding against the concrete, you practically jump when you spot the man already sitting at the bench. “Steve!” You shout happily, waving your paper in the air. The blonde shoots up, a brow raised in curiosity. “I got a 97!”

You come to a halt in front of him, but it’s too quick, so your clumsy feet trip over each other. Before you can fall, he catches you with ease, smiling down at you in amusement. Small pants leave your lips as sweat trickles down your spine. Where’s that breeze when you need it?

“Uhm…oops?” What the hell was that?! That was embarrassing, that’s what it was!

He chuckles, straightening you up. “You were saying?”

With pride lifting up the corners of your mouth, you shove the paper at his chest, once again grateful that he ignored your blunderings. “97%!”

“I told you you’d be fine. And I knew it wasn’t a waste of my time.” Steve looks up from the paper to give you a toothy grin.

“Thank you again.” You take the paper he hands back to you and shove it in your bag. “I probably would’ve failed the class without this grade. Is there really nothing I can do to pay you back for your time?”

He taps his chin in faux-thought, before tilting his head innocently. “You can loan me some of your time on Sunday.”

You purse your lips, confusion written over your features. “My time? On Sunday? Oh!” You light up, figuring he just needs help with something. “Yeah, duh. Okay. What do you need help with? I can promise I’ll try my hardest, but I might not-”

“No, no. Honey, that’s not-” he laughs, shaking his head and grabbing your hand to make you stop rambling. “I’m askin’ you out.”

“Out?” You pause, registering what that meant. “Like…on a date?” Is he serious? There’s no way he wants to go on a date with you. You pretty much called his life story boring, to his face, and then made him spend three hours on a Friday evening at the library working on a college paper with you.

He snickers with a nod. “Yes, on a date. So whaddya say, sweetheart?”

“Yes!” You blurt out without thinking, before you shy back, feeling yourself heat up as you tend to do around this God of a man. “Y-yeah. Yeah, I’d love to. Sunday. I can do that.”

He beams adorably, like a child being allowed to buy his favorite candy bar. Or a puppy with his favorite toy. Yeah…he reminds you of a puppy. Which only makes him that much cuter.

“Awesome! Meet me here at noon. Does that work?”

You nod vigorously. “That works perfectly.”

“Perfect.” He repeats, before taking your hand and bringing your knuckles to his lips once more.

* * * * * * * *

You’re sitting on the bench, tapping your toes nervously and checking your phone every minute. He said noon and it’s only eleven thirty. It’s a bit inconvenient, to say the least, when the place you go to relax is the place you’re meeting the person making you anxious. You could barely sleep the previous night, too many doubts lingering in your head. You seem to always be making a fool of yourself in front of him, but he was the one who asked you out, so that had to count for something.

You try not to think too hard about it, instead thinking back to last Friday in the library and how his features lifted when he told stories of his childhood and the Howling Commandos and the grin he got when he told you about the things they used to do that would get them in trouble.

“But I’m Captain America, and who’s gonna say no to this face?”

A little giggle leaves your lips as you remember his words, before you’re startled back to reality as a familiar smooth voice sounds besides you.

“Whatcha giggling at, honey?”

You whip over to see Steve grinning in amusement, leaning on the back of the bench. Your eyes drag down his figure. Another too tight t-shirt showing every ridge and curve on his torso, a jacket over his broad shoulders along with a casual pair of jeans. You had seen a meme about Steve having the proportions of a Dorito and, looking at him now, you can see how true it was. It almost makes you laugh again, but you remember what exactly is happening, and you suddenly can’t find anything funny.

“Sweetheart? You alright?”

“Huh? Oh. Yes. Yeah. I’m fine. I was just…thinking.”

He raised an eyebrow, smirking and leaning his forearms against the back of the bench next to where you’re sat. “And those adorable little giggles?”

There’s that familiar flush that you’ve learned to ignore, praying to God he didn’t notice your heart skipping a beat. “Uh, I just remembered something. That’s all.”

He gives a little hum, before hopping over the back and landing besides you. “Seems like we both had the same idea. Gettin’ here early.”

“If you must know, I was just…” You shrug. “To be honest, I’m a little anxious.”

“I’m not that scary, am I?” He teases, nudging you gently.

You roll your eyes and give him a look. “I don’t think there’s a bone in your body capable of being scary. I’m just…I’m nervous I’m gonna embarrass myself…again.”

Steve shakes his head, looking at you earnestly. “You’re not gonna embarrass yourself.”

Picking at the hem of your shirt, you scoff, shaking your head. “I already have. The amount of times I’ve tripped or said something stupid or rambled, which I’m doing right now, or-”

“Honey, honey. Slow down.” The blonde chuckles. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I find all of those things endearing. Now, the amount of times I’ve seen my teammates slip and fall on their faces while chasing an enemy? That’s embarrassing. Just the other day, Buck tripped on the roof of a car. Sam has it recorded.”

You let out a laugh at that and nod. “Okay, okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to get all insecure on you-”

“It’s fine, Y/N.” Steve insists. “Now,” he stands and offers his hand. “Let’s go get some lunch, yeah?”

You look at his hand before looking up at him and taking it without hesitation. “Okay.”

* * * * * * * *

After rounds of questions during lunch, Steve took you around the Smithsonian to all the different museums. Just like history, you had never been overly fond of museums. You typically walked around for a little bit, never really reading the information, only enjoying the pictures.

It’s different with Steve. Just like how it was different writing the research paper with him. He makes everything interesting, telling you his own facts and stories. Especially once you get to his exhibit in the Air and Space Museum.

Once you arrive, he puts on a hat and ducks his head, trying not to bring attention to you both while on a date. You tease him a bit, swinging your linked hands as you walk in with a cheeky grin. He nudges you with his elbow, his own smile painted on his lips.

You can’t help but listen and hold onto his every word, as if you’d die if you forget a single sentence. The light in his eyes as he talks about his past, showing you the pictures and plaques excitedly. Like a child during show and tell, he’s practically skipping from exhibit to exhibit, dragging you along behind him.

Giggling at his elation, you eagerly, and with no resistance, let him take you through his story. “They keep updating it.” He explains as you leave the area with World War Two and the Howling Commandos, entering through a corridor with modern pictures of him and the Avengers. “Every couple years or so they call me and tell me they’re adding another thing.”

“Doesn’t that get annoying?” You wonder, reading a wall about the Battle of Manhattan with interest. “Your whole life being put on display for everyone to see?”

Steve shrugs. “I dunno. I’ve never really minded. They don’t put in personal things, so it’s not too bad. You could learn more from the internet about me.”

You nod, knowing how true that really was. “You’ve got a point. Still. It must be a bit weird being a national icon.”

“I’ll admit, people stopping me on the street is getting a little old. I used to wish to be someone who changed the world. Now I have and sometimes I wish I could be normal. But I wouldn’t change what I’ve done. Who I am. Not if people can learn from it. Not if I can keep people safe.”

Turning away from the wall to glance at Steve, who has his hands in his pockets studying the wall, you smile and tilt your head. “You’re a good man, Steve Rogers.”

He turns to you, his lips pulling up. “That’s all I hope for.” His voice is quiet, earnest, before it becomes lighter as he gestures back to the wall. “You know the first thing we did after winning was go out for shawarma? It was Tony’s idea.”

“No way.” You laugh. “All six of you?”

“Yeah! We go there for every Battle of Manhattan Anniversary, now. I’ll take you some time. It’s a nice place.”

“Is that a promise?”

He smirks at your teasing tone. “Absolutely.”

* * * * * * * *

After your museum hopping, he takes you to Arlington Cemetery to show you a few friends and fellow soldiers he met all those years ago. It’s such a personal intimate thing that he shares, and you think you shouldn’t be there to witness it, but he’s quick to reassure you that’s not the case. That he wouldn’t have anyone else by his side, listening to his stories.

By the time you get back to the city, it’s getting dark, so you two head out for dinner before Steve takes you up the Washington Monument to look at the city lights. He makes sure you have the top all to yourselves; there’s perks of being an Avenger - especially one of the leaders.

“Alright, alright.” Leaning on the rail, you turn to him with a smile. “So maybe history isn’t as bad as I originally thought.”

“Yeah? I convinced you, did I?”

You roll your eyes at his smirk, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Maybe a bit. But only when you’re telling it. You think there’s any way you could come to history with me?” You joke with a laugh, feeling yourself flush at the chuckle and grin he gives you.

“I wish I could, honey.” He spoke softly, running a thumb over your knuckles. “Unfortunately, I’ve got work to do. I’m heading back to New York tomorrow. I’ll be back on Friday, though. If you would want to-”

You beam and nod energetically. “I’d love to go out again, Stevie.”

Giving your hand a squeeze, he beams back. “Fantastic.” He looks back out to the window and gives a little sigh. “It’s gettin’ late and you’ve got class tomorrow.”

“Yeah. I should probably get going. Do you, I mean, would you mind walking me home?” You blink up at him through your lashes hopefully.

“Of course!” His eyes - which you found throughout the day weren’t entirely blue, but had some green hues to them - lit up as you two start towards the elevator. He tucks you under his strong arm, pulling you close. “You wanna get ice cream or something on the way?”

“You read my mind, Captain.”

* * * * * * * *

By the time you reach your door, you’ve both finished your ice cream and he’s telling yet another story while you laugh, once again swinging your linked hands.

When it comes time to say goodbye, you can’t help but wish your hand could stay in his for a while longer. Knowing that you’d be saying farewell, you hold on a bit tighter. “Pick me up on Friday?”

He nods, squeezing your hand before letting it go and brushing his fingertips along your cheek. “I’ll call you later too, alright, sweetheart?”

“Okay.” You agree eagerly. “You gonna kiss me goodnight now, soldier?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He chuckles softly, before gently grabbing your chin. Using his other hand, he pulls you closer by the waist, pressing his lips to yours. It’s soft and sweet and perfect, just like him, but it ends too quickly for your liking. He pulls back, nudging his nose against yours, and murmuring against your lips. “Sleep well.”

You smile, leaning your forehead against his. “Good night, Stevie.”

Stepping away, he lifts your knuckles to his lips. “G’night.”

You stop him before he could turn all the way. “Steve?” He pauses to look over his shoulder at you with an eyebrow raised. You have a question, and you can’t help but ask it, it having been on your mind for days. “Why’d you stop your run just to sit by me?”

“And leave a beautiful dame like yourself before I could get your name? I may be a super soldier, honey, but I’m still a man. Abyssinia Friday, Y/N.”

#cjsinkythoughts #cjswriting #marvel #steve rogers #captain america #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #first dates w/ avengers #💛🧭

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lavendersuh · 3 years

Text

jaemin x reader | 70′s roller rink au | fluff | 2.8k words

part of @nct-writers neo’clock event!

warnings: none

summary: its the era of disco balls and groovy tunes, and you love working at your local roller skating rink. if only na jaemin wasn’t there to annoy you all the time.

note: hi friends!! i recently started roller skating this summer and it’s been so fun!! i finally was able to go to a roller rink (i masked up i promise!) but i wrote this beforehand while i was yearning to go haha. it was so fun and skating makes me so happy. i don’t think i’ve seen many roller skating aus so i hope you all enjoy!!

“Hey! Will you stop going the wrong way? I have kids learning to skate and you’re getting in their way!”

You huff out a heavy breath from your exercise. It’s always tiring to teach young kids to roller skate, but you enjoy the smiles it brought to their faces. One day soon they would be able to easily join the adults that waltzed across the shiny wooden floors.

Your job at the local roller rink is perfect. You love the smoky atmosphere and the big disco ball. You love hearing the latest groovy songs play over the speakers. You love being able to zoom around in your favorite bell bottom jeans and best pair of skates.

What you don’t enjoy is annoying boys that obnoxiously skate around the rink.

You look back at the boy in question. It isNa Jaemin, of course. The boy has been the bane of your existence since he came to the rink for the first time a little over two weeks ago.

Na Jaemin, with his blonde hair and constant grin, always so cocksure about everything. You had to admit, he’s an incredible skater, but you could never admit that to him.

Especially when he is doing everything in his power to annoy you at the present moment.

“Are you even qualified to teach people how to skate?” he asks, with narrow eyes, “Can you even go backwards?”

You know he’s just teasing, just trying to get a rise out of you, and you fall so easily into his trap every time.

“Of course I can go backwards Jaemin! That’s not what I’m teaching right now though!” you reply.

“Well then, I can do a demonstration!”

“Jaemin, no.”

“Jaemin, yes.”

You let out a sigh as you watch him show off in front of the kids. They were a nice little bunch, but they were easily distracted, especially when the distraction was putting on such a show.

Once again, you knew, it would be a long night.

Not even a week later, you encounter the nuisance again. Tonight, someone that usually works the food counter called off, meaning you’re stuck making hot dogs and grabbing bottles of cola for a bunch of little kids and teenagers. It wasn’t the worst job, but it certainly wasn’t your favorite.

Especially since you can’t just skate away when Jaemin comes around to annoy you.

You spot him skating around the rink with a few of his buddies, doing laps around the younger kids. You can’t help but roll your eyes.

The last you recalled, Jaemin never ordered much from the food counter when he was at the rink, so you assume he won’t bother you tonight. You couldn’t be more wrong.

You were back behind the pretzel machine when someone came up to the counter, ringing the bell to get your attention.

“I’ll be right there!” you call out, “What can I get for you?”

“A second of your time perhaps?”

You whip your head around to see Jaemin standing at the counter, a cheesy smile across his face. His hair is ruffled and wild, and he seems to be breathing a bit heavy from the exercise he was just doing.

You huff as you walk over to him, “Jaem, if you’re just going to annoy me, go away. Do you actually want any food?”

He doesn’t miss the small nickname that crosses your lips, but he doesn’t have time to think too hard about it. As always, he is on a mission.

“I wanted to show you my new skates!” he says, moving backwards a bit to show you the new boots, “Nice wheels, right?”

You can’t help the snort of amusement that comes out. The skates are bright yellow, with orange wheels and laces. They certainly will stand out under the glow of the neon lights and the disco ball over the wooden rink.

He starts moonwalking around in front of you, and you can’t help but marvel with a smile of your own at the skates and the silly boy in front of you. He must catch you staring, because he breaks you out of your trance by coming closer.

He says , “I wonder how fast I’ll be able to go in them.”

He bounds off towards the rink, zipping around the people on his new wheels. He looks back over to see if you are watching, causing a triumphant grin to grace his face when he realizes he still has your attention.

The only problem is, with his eyes on you instead of where he’s going, he nearly runs into an older lady, and quickly diverts his course to keep from crashing into her. His new skates take him directly towards the wall, sending him on a collision course with concrete.

His fall is anything but graceful, as his friends laugh at him. You also let out a chuckle of your own at the silly boy who will do anything for even an ounce of attention.

It is once again the end of a long day, and the quiet of the rink surrounds you. The music is turned off, and you’re the last one here, finishing up some cleaning before you finally go home.

You always loved being the last one at the rink. The roller rink was constantly alive with lots of people, lots of sounds, lots of activity. It was calming to be the only one, skating around the rink with a broom to wipe down the surface.

As you are making your way around the outside of the rink one last time, you hear a loud noise near the entrance to the building. You can’t help but grip the broom a little tighter, before you see Jaemin come through the door.

He glides over to the opening of the rink, his boombox in his hand. You do nothing but stare as he sets it up on the ground, pressing play before starting to skate. Finally he acknowledges your presence with a casual wave, like he isn’t here after hours or anything.

“What do you think you are doing?” you ask. “The rink closed ten minutes ago, and aren’t you tired? You were here all night.”

You couldn’t ignore the slip up you made, realizing you let it slip that you were aware of his presence all night. You didn’t need him thinking you were looking at him a lot, because you weren’t. Ever.

“I like skating to my own tunes.” he says, as nonchalant as ever.

He apparently doesn’t see a problem with the way things are unfolding, and you let out a huff.

“Oh my god, I’m trying to clean the floor! Can’t you just come back tomorrow?”

“Aw, so eager to see me again?” he smiles as he makes his way to you, “Anyways, I can help!”

He takes your broom, skating around while casually sweeping. You might not have brand new skates like him, but you easily catch up to him, snatching it back.

Why was he even here? Just like you had pointed out, he had been here all night. What was keeping him from going home like the rest of the crowd?

“Go, Jaemin!” you exclaim out of annoyance, “And take your annoying boombox with you!”

His face morphs into a pout at this, “You turned off the music, what was I supposed to do?”

“Go home?”

You glide over to the portable machine producing the loud disco music, turning off the switch. You manage to pick it up, shoving the boombox towards Jaemin.

“Jaemin, I’m begging you, go home! I can’t clean if you are still here, and I want to go home, too.”

He must see the exhausted look in your eye behind all of your annoyance, because he rolls over to you.

Jaemin grabs his boombox again, “Am I too much of a distraction if I sit on the bench?”

He gestures to the bench just outside of the rink, where little kids often tied their laces. For some reason, he just doesn’t want to leave, so you nod your head.

He sits down, and turns on his boombox again while doing so. He turns the volume down lower, and looks out at you, jokingly saluting you in a promise to not be bothersome.

You roll your eyes, finally resuming your cleaning.

As you clean, Jaemin talks aimlessly. He talks about his classes at the local university next fall, and about how he just can’t figure out how to land a specific jump on his skates.

While you were reluctant to let him stay, his presence ends up being really nice. His voice is soft as it fills the empty building, and as you both walk out to your cars after locking up, you are grateful to have someone by your side.

It feels a little weird that you are having nice thoughts about the boy who is constantly a pain in your side, but you ignore the slight upbeat in your heart rate when he bids you goodnight.

You throw him a smile as you get into your car, “Goodnight, Jaem.”

It is once again a slow Tuesday night, and you are almost about ready to fall asleep at the admissions counter. Every so often you are assigned a shift in the ticket lobby, which you don’t mind typically. On a weekend day, you would be busy taking care of admissions for people as they came and went.

The rink is not busy today.

And you’re about to doze off.

You sigh. The one day you don’t have a book or a newspaper or any homework to do.

You find yourself brushing off invisible dust from your new vest and turtleneck outfit when you hear the door chime, signaling a new customer. You look up from your seat.

Of course, it is Na Jaemin.

“Hey, are you stuck out here today?” he asks, his skate laces tied together to rest over his left shoulder.

“Yeah, it's so boring tonight, kinda empty too, but at least that means you won’t plow into a sixth grader again.” you smile.

“That was one time!” he says, also grinning at the memory.

He pulls out some money for admission and you hand him the paper wristband to show he paid and brought his own skates. Just as he is about to walk through the door to get to the rink, he pauses.

“Hey, uh, what’s your favorite song to skate to?”

“Huh?”

“Yeah,” he scratches the back of his neck. He tries to explain his reasoning, “Maybe if I play it on my boombox, you won’t make me turn it off.”

You let out a chuckle, “I’ll still probably make you turn it off.”

“Y/N, can you please just answer the question?” Jaemin seems serious now.

And while you are taken aback by the change from his normally aloof demeanor, you clear your throat, “Okay, umm, I really love that new movie Grease, right now. Have you seen it? There’s this one song that’s kinda slow, ‘Hopelessly Devoted to You,’ and it’s really pretty and fun to just skate around the rink to.”

You flush out of embarrassment for the cheesy song choice, but Jaemin nods with a smile. You ignore your traitorous heart reminding you that you had definitely played your Grease soundtrack cassette tape a few too many times since meeting Jaemin. There was definitely no correlation.

“That song is nice.” he says, before turning away and heading into the rink, leaving you alone at the ticket counter once again.

A few days later you once again are stuck at the ticket counter. And finally, your shift is over. The ticket counter was nice every once in a while, but you feel tired of standing there, especially more than once in a week. You much preferred the satisfying exhaustion that came from being on wheels for your entire shift.

The staff has mostly gone home, even your boss who just needed to lock up the cash office. You had offered to lock up the building after he left, since you felt like skating for a bit before going home.

There is something about skating on the wooden floor when no one else is around. It is entirely quiet, with the music turned off, just the sound of your wheels spinning., And peaceful, with the air clear of cigarette smoke and loud screams of children playing. It was calming.

Your calm is interrupted by soft music coming from near the entrance. It’s only when you see Jaemin’s face and his stupidly large boombox that you realize what song it is.

Your favorite song.

You can’t help the goofy smile that spreads across your face as he skates over, leaving the boombox on the ledge of the rink wall, coming over to you as ‘Hopelessly Devoted to You,’ echoes throughout the building.

He’s mouthing the lyrics as he skates to you, his eyes bright with mischief and something else that you can’t quite place.

“Hey,” he says once he’s finally in front of you, “Can I join? It seemed a little quiet in here.”

For some reason, this flusters you, as you look at his ruffled hair and jean jacket. “Uh, yeah sure.”

With your approval, he begins skating, beckoning you to follow him. The song ends, but starts up again, and you give Jaemin a questioning look.

“I made a mixtape of this song on loop a couple of times,” he says, running a hand through his hair leisurely, like that’s the most normal thing in the world for someone to do. “It’s nice right?”

It makes you smile regardless. The two of you skate around for a bit, simply going around the rink as you would if lots of people were there. It’s comfortable, you realize, with just the two of you all alone.

Finally on the third loop of the song, Jaemin comes a little closer, and grabs your hand quickly, as if unsure that he is able to do that. You squeeze his hand in reassurance.

It’s strange, wherever this night is going, but you can’t remember a time that you seemed happier to be at the rink.

“I recall you mentioning you can skate backwards, yes?” Jaemin asks, after a few moments.

“Yes, of course—” you begin, but stop talking when he spins you to skate backwards in front of him, causing you to let out a slight squeal at the change.

It’s almost like dancing in a way, as he pushes the two of you forward around the rink and you impulsively grip his shoulders to make sure you can keep your balance.

Eventually, the two of you slow down, and he leads a few spins, which sends laughter through the air and chills down your spine. It's hard to believe just a few weeks ago this boy was the most annoying pain in your side.

The boombox finally goes quiet after its few repeats of the song, and the building is plunged into silence again, as you stand in front of Jaemin with a small smile and a sweaty complexion.

The neon lights glow around you and Jaemin’s face turns serious. He readjusts his grip on your waist, sliding ever so slightly closer to you.

“I’m sorry I was an asshole at the beginning.” he says, just above a whisper to be heard by only you, “I didn’t know how else to get your attention. Finally I changed the plan to this, and I think it’s working out better.”

“The plan?” you ask, your brain cloudy from his proximity.

He has the nerve to look bashful, making his face even more cuter, “I’ve, uh, kinda liked you for a while, and I needed a plan to tell you and see if you felt the same.”

You smile, moving your left hand from his shoulder to his jawline, stroking his cheeky tenderly. Every piece of him that you touch leaves a burning feeling within your heart, and you finally are thinking you know how to fix it.

With a bold move like when he picked up your hand, you touch your lips to his, letting them sit there for a moment. It’s a chaste kiss, leaving Jaemin to decide what to do next.

He deepens the kiss, smiling as he fully wraps his arms around you and keeps you from sliding away by using his toe stops.

The disco ball overhead isn’t turning anymore, and the music that typically fills the roller rink isn’t playing, but you’ve never found the rink more spectacular in your life. It’s not the atmosphere of the rink that you love, but the people within.

And right now, the person in front of you is your favorite.

#nct-writers #neoclock #neo-constellations #neothestars #jaemin x reader #jaemin x you #jaemin #nct fanfic #nct x reader #nct scenarios #jaemin scenarios #nct dream #nct #nct dream x reader #jaemin fluff #nct dream fluff #fluff #my writing

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dingoat · 3 years

Photo

[So, @cinlat has been dabbling in a Sith au for her Fynta, with cameo slots available for various other characters to come hang out. And just the little bit of contemplation we had about where Ahuska might slot into this particular version of events, I wound up inspired enough to dabble with a scene! So welcome to an Ahuska who still wound up adopted into Mandalorian life, but has not forgotten/repressed her early years. Rather than their usual easy friendship, she and Fynta wind up butting heads more often than not and bumping into one another more than either would like. Apologies if I’ve gotten Fynta totally wrong, I will put up a disclaimer that I’m throwing this out here without any sort of proofing from Cinlat so she gets the final call as to the authenticity of this scene! I’ve also borrowed @askshivanulegacy’s Blakk for the ride, I think I needed a little cathartic fluff to counterbalance all the fluff-gone-wrong happening elsewhere hahahaha.]

‘Not on My Watch’

“I don’t know why you won’t just let me take a speeder…”

Ahuska lifted a hand to cut him off, raising a finger and shaking her head with a smile. It was no secret that the young bothan was soft for this particular Imperial Agent, even if her clanmates were quick to remind her that no self respecting human Kaas citizen would pursue anything more than a functional work relationship with her, a rudderless, stable-working alien.

She chose not to listen to what her clanmates had to say.

“Because a speeder won’t pull back when it feels the ice getting too thin or warn you when you cross a wampa’s path, that’s why.”

Cipher Blakk rolled his eyes and pulled the zipper of his insulated parka higher, but it still wasn’t enough to keep his face properly protected from the frankly absurd level of chill. “It’s not as though I plan to park on an ice sheet…”

“Uh huh, and you’ll know exactly what’s under the two inch layer of snow that’s just fallen…”

He huffed, and she laughed, opening the stall door against which she was leaning to lead out the young tauntaun buck she already had saddled and haltered. “Quit fretting. Thunder here is a solid ride and a soft touch, he won’t give you any problems, and I’d trust him over any autopilot to get you safely back to base if something goes wrong.” Blakk felt some unexpected warmth rise in his cheeks, and while he wondered for the thousandth time why she cared so much that he got back safely, the buck lowered his head to snuffle through Ahuska’s hair. She raised a hand to give the tauntaun a firm rub on the cheek and horn. “Yeah, you’re a good boy aren’t you? You’ll be good for the Empire’s elite, won’t you? Won’t you my good soft woolly buddy…”

Ahuska’s ears flicked at the same moment as Thunder’s twitched, and a heartbeat later Blakk’s head turned as well, hearing the heavy rasp of an iron gate lifting.

Ahuska had been stationed on the remote Hoth outpost for the last month and a half, more than enough time to get to know the sound of every latch and door in the stables, and the animals that spent their lives here knew them even better. Her sky blue eyes turned to ice as she squinted, staring down into the lower level. “Who… oh.”

Her lips turned to a tight, flat line as she recognised the figure down below, and the coolness in her expression was enough to prompt Blakk to lift a brow. “Ahh, is something the matter…?”

“We’ll see. What is she… oh, oh no, no no no…”

The Cipher suddenly found himself with a set of reins thrust into his hands, with Ahuska taking the liberty of closing his fingers around them and squeezing tight. “What… what are you…?”

“Hold him. Hold him tight and don’t let go for a second, distract him with this if you can…” She shoved a pinkish rock of some sort toward him, and with his hands full he was forced to stoop and hold it under his chin, expression nothing short of bewildered.

“I don’t… oh, gods no,” Blakk had the profound discomfort of realising then that it was a block of salt, as Thunder pressed forward with an eager little warble and began to lick at it. He made a tiny sound of dismay. “Ahuska…!”

But she was already gone, not even sticking around to have a snigger at his predicament, darting down the stairwell rather than waiting on one of the stocklifts. “Oi! Oi, di’kut, what’n Kad’s name do you think you’re doing---!!”

The object of Ahuska’s anger turned, unnaturally blue eyes flashing with irritation, and then immediately turned back to the stall door she’d been about to open.

“Don’t you dare touch that! Who the hell authorized you to be down here and what the shab d’you think you’re doing opening straight up into the yards?” Rather than heading straight toward the Sith, Ahuska veered to the far wall where a harsh wind blustered through the now gaping entry to the outdoor paddocks, and slammed her fist against a set of controls.

“This animal is… Shen-Four-Seven, isn’t it?” Fynta Wolfe, Assassin for Sith Intelligence and Infiltration, glared at the Bothan stablekeep who stood firm in the gateway, as though she could somehow block her passage while the heavy gate groaned back shut. She cut a strong silhouette against the glaring white world outside, framed with reflected light and fluttering snowflakes.

“Star, yeah, that’s her.” Ahuska’s tone was curt. She didn’t enjoy dealing with Fynta any more than she explicitly had to. Never mind that the Sith knew far more about her than Ahuska was comfortable with, but the fact that Fynta thought she could just slip on some beskar and mingle amongst the clans as though she weren’t an out-and-out Sith grated at her terribly. The nerves struck were just… a little too close to home.

“Then she’s the one I’ve been assigned while I’m on duty here. And since I’m not here to take riding lessons, I don’t see why I need to answer to you of all people, stablekeep.”

Ahuska bristled as the steel gate locked shut behind her, putting an abrupt halt to the chill wind. “Maybe ‘cause every last one of these animals has been assigned to me while I’m on duty here, and I don’t give a damn if you’re the Emperor himself, you don’t take one outside without my say-so. Not a taun, not a vulp, not a gods-damned arctic womp-weasel! So you can take your fingers off that latch and let me do my job, or you can deal with the shab’la stampede you’re about to let loose. It’s stable master, by the way.”

Fynta knew Ahuska wasn’t the type to lie for the sake of a power trip. The bothan’s conviction and ferocity at this moment was enough to give her pause and slowly arch a brow, though her tone was flat and unconvinced. “Stampede. You mean the whole three out in the main yard.”

“Mmm.” Ahuska’s tone was equally flat, but there was something smug about the way she lifted her chin and stared down the bridge of her muzzle toward the Sith. “Those three first, if Thunder up on the balcony doesn’t fling himself over to beat them to it.” She gestured upward and over her shoulder with a thumb, toward where Blakk diligently kept a firm but wary hold of the tauntaun buck Ahuska had left in his care. The agent swiftly averted his gaze when he realised attention had momentarily turned his way. “Then the seven in the exercise yards ‘cause let’s face it, those fences aren’t gonna stop a buck in rut, and maybe the dozen in the outer…”

“Excuse me?”

“Excuse what?”

“A buck in rut?”

“I said what I said. I know it doesn’t look much like the seasons change here on Hoth, but believe me, there are seasons, and we’re in the thick of one right now. Your little Star there…” Ahuska dipped her head toward the stall door that Fynta remained precariously close to opening, though to her credit her fingers were looser on the handle than they had been moments before. “Is a very, very appealing little lady at the moment. She gets lead out through the back to be worked in the yards on the south ridge or not at all, and when she’s being groomed and treated in here this gate…” She slapped the metal surface behind her with the back of her hand. “Stays shut! I wouldn’t even recommend her for a mission today or tomorrow unless you were absolutely certain of no wild herds en route and let’s face it, you can never be certain of that…”

Fynta hadn’t exactly paled, but she was definitely looking less confident about taking her assigned mount out onto the slopes. She found herself feeling unwittingly grateful that the blasted bothan had been here to intercept her, and then an equal measure of furious at herself for feeling grateful at all. “Alright, alright, fierfek, just get me a more suitable animal ready as soon as you can, I’ve wasted enough time here already…”

“Of course, my Lord,” Ahuska’s grin was far too toothy, her flourished salute and bow far too exaggerated to be genuine. She enjoyed watching Fynta bite back her seething a little too much. “And let me know what shebs-for-brains gave you Star to begin with so I can have some words.”

“I’ll try to find out,” Fynta lied. No way in hell was she going to let Ahuska know that, in a bid to get herself in and out of Hoth as swiftly as possible, she might have forged a signature or two on a requisition document here and there, and arbitrarily assigned the tauntaun to herself. She straightened, stepping away from the stall, and stared Ahuska squarely in the eye. “I’ll be back in ten minutes. Don’t keep me waiting.”

She didn’t give Ahuska the opportunity to respond, making her way smartly off down a corridor. The bothan might come across as meek as a runt nerf calf most of the time, but Force be damned if she didn’t find a spine and a half where her animals were concerned. Fynta couldn’t decide whether she was impressed or irritated, and just found herself hoping that Ahuska would be able to find the same amount of backbone if anyone ever pressed her about matters that remained better left unspoken.

She really didn’t want to see another decent Mandalorian having their arm twisted into Imperial service.

Ahuska, meanwhile, had every intention of keeping Fynta waiting; she had another Agent of the Empire to finish dealing with first, and she wasn’t going to rush seeing Blakk and Thunder off soundly for the sake of a single agitated Sith. Her hackles were already smooth and the set of her ears fully relaxed by the time she made it back to the upper level, though the way Blakk’s wide-eyed gaze settled on her when she flashed him a grin threatened to dishevel her all over again.

“Didn’t give you any trouble, did he?”

“No, you were great- I mean he, he was great. Thunder was… great. Perfect. No trouble.”

Ahuska might have plenty of backbone when it mattered, but that didn’t stop certain moments making her utterly weak. She coughed into her hand, glancing aside as she took back the reins and returned the remains of the salt lick to her pocket. “Ahh, uh, right, good. Good! Where have you got your gear then? Better get him all loaded up for you.”

---

[And now a bonus for everyone who got this far, hahaha, have some zipped up Hoth geared little Imperials. Ahuska thinks they’re both ridiculous for complaining so much about the cold.]

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queen-swagzilla · 3 years

Text

So Much Worse Than A Phantom Limb, Chapter 4 [PREVEIW]

"You been doing your homework, nerd?" he barked as he barged into the room. Izuku was propped up by pillows and elbows deep in their quirk theory textbook. His head snapped up and he looked at Katsuki with wide, slightly red eyes. "And have you been sleeping?"

"Do the homework or get sleep, Kacchan. Can't be both." Izuku replied, a little bleary.

"They are never gonna let you out of the hospital if you don't take care of yourself, fucker," Katsuki snapped. "You know that."

"I'm trying to catch up!" he cried, frustrated.

Katsuki glared at him fiercely. "If you focus on your physical health now, it'll be easier to do the catch up. It'll go faster because your body will be able to handle it. Do this shit the right way, nerd. You know I'm right."

Izuku pouted. It was not cute. It wasn't. "I just feel pathetic," he mumbled.

Katsuki took a deep, calming breath. Yelling in the hospital was bad form. "You nearly got fucking deleted by a villain, Deku. Two weeks isn't enough time to fully recover from two months of internally dissolving. What if it were me in the bed? What would you tell me?"

Izuku flushed and looked at Katsuki sheepishly. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh," Katsuki mocked him. "I get being restless, but you gotta be smart, dumbass. Take it easy in the beginning and work your way up to doing more every day."

"Fine." Izuku flopped back into his pillows.

"Take a nap while I check over your work," Katsuki instructed. "I'll wake you up when its time to review."

"Don't you have your own homework?"

"Yeah, but I'm basically studying by checking your work," he shrugged. "Don't sweat it. I got some of it done during lunch, and I'll get to the rest after they kick me out."

Izuku seemed to know better than to argue with him (for once), and settled in to take his mandated nap while Katsuki picked up his binder of makeup work and began to flip through it.

Katsuki, Momo, and Aizawa had come up with a makeup plan for Izuku almost as soon as he'd woken up. It included a lesson plan, the notes and study guides that they had compiled, and a binder of assignments that he'd have to complete in order for Aizawa to deem him caught up enough to take the semester's final exams.

It meant that Izuku would likely be working to catch up for the duration of their two- spring vacation, and he wouldn't be entirely caught up for a while. He was months behind his classmates after he'd been doing so well and it frustrated him to degree he'd never experienced before. It made him angry.

Fuck Hiroki Takeda. Izuku wanted to Detroit Smash him in the face for stealing two whole months from him. For terrifying his friends and family, too. He kinda wanted to slap the villain's head off. But he wouldn't because he was a hero. Dammit.

Katsuki let Izuku sleep for two hours before waking him up to go over corrections. He could feel Deku's bubbling frustration, even as he tried to absorb what he was being taught with a positive attitude.

"Oh good, you're still here." Deku's doctor let himself into the room and addressed Katsuki. They were reviewing the math assignment that Izuku had done almost perfectly. There were a couple slip ups, but they were minor. Better safe than sorry, though. Both boys looked up at the intruder, blinking owlishly.

"Uh...yeah," Katsuki uttered intelligently.

"Hope you're not overworking yourself, Midoriya," the doctor warned, eying them suspiciously. "Or else I might rethink my decision to discharge you and allow you to complete your rehab in Recovery Girl's care."

Izuku's eyes widened. Damn, Recovery Girl worked fast. Katsuki was impressed. "What?" Izuku yelped, jolting forward.

"I understand that you've agreed to be his primary caregiver in the dorm, Bakugou? You're planning on managing his recovery and academic plans?" the doctor continued as though Izuku hadn't interrupted. "That had a fairly large bearing on my decision, so I'd like to confirm some details with you before I officially sign off on it."

Katsuki nodded, even as Izuku turned those wide eyes on him. "What?" Izuku demanded.

Katsuki ignored him. "Yeah, that's the plan. Our classmates will be helping, but I agreed to be the main contact. Aizawa will be monitoring his progress, too, so that'll be an extra set of responsible adult eyes on the nerd."

"That's good to know," the doctor agreed, both of them ignoring Izuku's incredulous sputtering. "If we do this, Recovery Girl will be taking over as the primary physician. You'll need to go to her for weekly checkups and report any problems to her as soon as possible. I've already sent her the care plan we've following, but I'd like to go over it with you. There are a lot of physical therapy exercises that he'll need to do daily, and a fairly strict diet plan. He'll also need to take medications, and there are signs of fatigue you'll need to watch for."

"Kacchan, you don't need to—"

Katsuki cut him off with a ferocious glare. "Do I ever—ever—do anything that I don't want to do?"

Izuku opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking like an odd green fish out of water. "N-no?"

"Then shut up and let me talk to your doctor, nerd."

"O-okay. Alright," Izuku complied, sitting back but not taking his huge, amazed eyes off of Katsuki. He tried very hard not to flush under the scrutiny.

"Hit me, doc."

The doctor (who was thoroughly amused by the two flustered boys) outlined Izuku's care thoroughly, handing Katsuki sheets of paper and explaining them in detail. Pointing out particulars of Izuku's injuries and weak spots on the boy's body and explaining how each exercise was done and how it helped. Katsuki's focus was laser-sharp, and he asked questions attentively—turning over every detail until he was sure he'd be able to take care of the nerd flawlessly.

"I think I feel comfortable releasing you into UA's care, Midoriya. You're lucky to have friends like Bakugou, here," the doctor smiled. But then his face darkened slightly, and he cut his eyes to Katsuki. "Not many people would take such good care of their friends' families in situations like yours."

Katsuki remembered then, that this was the doctor that had banned the 'Dekusquad' from the hospital. Katsuki shook his head ever so slightly. This was not the forum for that conversation. The doctor pursed his lips, but moved on, even as Izuku eyed them both suspiciously. "I'd like to keep you one more night so that we do one more round of regen therapy before you leave. Bakugou, you can pick him up in the morning. He'll need a wheelchair any time he's walking more than fifteen feet—do not argue with me—it is non-negotiable."

Izuku grumbled but agreed because honestly, he was way more excited about getting to leave the hospital than he was bummed about his lack of mobility. "When did you agree to be my caretaker?" he asked once the doctor had left.

"Today, after class," Katsuki replied, turning back to the homework. "Went to Recovery Girl. Noticed you were getting antsy." He looked up when Izuku didn't say anything because a silent Deku was nearly unheard of (unless the asshole was in a fucking coma), and found Izuku staring at him with a look so soft and warm that it made him want to tuck tail and flee. "What?" he demanded, self conscious.

"Nothing! Just...thank you, Kacchan. You're amazing."

Katsuki squirmed. "You've been saying that since we were four. Careful or it'll lose meaning."

"You're also a complete dick," Izuku replied, a little wry.

"Watch it, or I'll push your wheelchair down the stairs, Freckles," Katsuki barked. "Let's finish this chapter, and then I'm gonna go baby-proof the dorm for you."

"I'm not a baby!"

Read the rest on Ao3!

Like it? Buy me a coffee!

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

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3. Sweets for OT4 because Barclay making sweet things for his polycule is the soft that I need! Sfw, with mer Duck and Joseph?

Here it is! Joseph’s design is based on a Spotted Drum, Duck’s on a Mahi-Mahi.

Most days, Barclay’s house resembles a cookbook library. Today, it looks like a cookbook library that got hit by a catastrophic earthquake.

His goal is to find three perfect recipes to bring to the beach with him tonight, but he keeps changing his mind; whenever he settles on a menu, he turns the page or turns around and finds another contender staring at him from its glossy photo.

Indrid is the simplest; he likes sweet food in all his forms, though he’ll make concessions to the rest of the tastes from time to time. It was one such concession (to sour) that first introduced them. Indrid was shooting a fashion spread in town and came into Amnesty Lodge, where Barclay was working the counter at their little coffee bar.

“I suppose I should get a slice of the key lime pie, since we’re in the keys.”

Barclay cut him a generous slice because he liked the curve of his smile. Indrid sat at the counter, took a bite, took a second bite, and then ate so fast his fork was a silver blur. He licked his plate clean when he thought Barclay wasn’t looking. There was a dot of whipped cream on his nose that Barclay almost offered to kiss off. But he exercised restraint and gave him a napkin instead.

Indrid came back the next day, and the next, and the day after that too. When Barclay asked how long the shoot was, Indrid admitted it was done three days ago.

“I, ah, I’ve been coming down from the city just for your food.”

“That’s the best compliment anyone’s ever given me.” Barclay leans across the counter, smiling when he spots Indrid’s eyes giving him a once over from behind his red-lensed glasses.

“May I have the chance to pay you some more? Perhaps tonight if you’re free?

He was, and Indrid complimented him before, after, and during the night they spent together. Barclay would have been fine with a one-night stand, let the memory of Indrid’s tan, angular body under his hands carry him for the next few months. But the photographer came back at least three times a week and took Barclay out as much as possible. He learned Indrid was a big enough deal that he could pick and choose assignments and that he traveled often, but the longer they were together, the more he talked about moving his headquarters to Kepler.

Two years later, his office and studio are ten minutes from the apartment he and Barclay share. When he’s in town, he’s glued to Barclays side.When he travels, Barclay gets postcards signed with hearts or filled with sketches of what Indrid’s seen (and he always comes home laden with local delicacies for Barclay to try).

Wait, what were those hard candies he brought back and then ate all of? Yeah, that will work. Barclay checks to be sure he has heavy cream and makes a note to get pineapple from the grocery store. He’d hoped to avoid a trip out, but Indrid is worth it. Indrid is one of the best things to ever happen to him.

He’s also the reason Barclay has to find three recipes and not just one.

A year ago Indrid was location scouting for a dramatic oceanside shoot. On a remote outcropping, waves splashing around him, a man popped up from the water to ask what the hell he was doing so far out and didn’t he know the tide overtook this rock real quick?

Indrid, a little strange himself, recovered quickly from being scolded by a merman. And promptly asked if merman would like to pose for a portrait. If not, would he be able to show Indrid some good locations for photographing rays?

Duck, green-finned and strong, became Indrid’s guide to the reef. It didn’t take long before Barclay noticed Indrid getting dreamy-eyed when he recounted their adventures. Maybe he should have been jealous, but he was just happy his boyfriend found a hunky merman to show him the wonders of the sea.

These days, he considers Duck one of his best friends, a friend who also happens to make Indrid’s face light up like the Vegas strip whenever he smiles at him.

Duck’s palate tends towards the savory side, and on days when he needs a pick-me-up Barclay will bring him a travel bowl of french onion soup and a hard seltzer, the two of them sitting on the sand and comparing notes on troublesome customers (or, in Duck’s case, park guests in the aquatic campground on the far edge of the reef.

Actually, that gives Barclay an idea. He grabs the flour from the cupboard, sets it next to the jar of yeast and a bottle of wheat beer. They may be metamours and not partners but, as Barclay often jokes, he owes Duck big time.

See, shortly after meeting Duck, Indrid guided Barclay down to a hidden patch of beach.

“I want Duck to meet you, dearest. He also has someone he wishes to introduce to us.”

Duck barely had time to emerge before another merman pulled himself onto the beach and began asking questions.

“See, this is why I asked him to come. Joe’s fascinated by the human world. Even swam under a glass bottom boat tryin to get a look at some tourists. Which was real dangerous.”

“You didn’t seem to mind disciplining me for it” Joseph shoots a smile at the other mer, then continues his examination of Indrid’s camera.

With black hair, blue eyes, and a stunning white and black tail, Joseph is the most handsome man Barclay’d ever seen. Later, when he had to explain the fact he was attracted to both him and Indrid, he’d say that the difference in his boyfriends was like the difference between being fed by a classically trained French chef and Spanish chef pushing the boundaries of molecular gastronomy; radically different, but equally amazing.

Joseph, inquisitive and clever, began asking to see them whenever he could. Barclay started bringing food down for Joseph to try, played him movies on his phone, and fell harder for him whenever he laughed or smiled or made a bad pun.

Some nights Duck, Indrid, or both joined them. Other nights it was just the two of them and water, Joseph lazily waving his tail back and forth as they talked. One evening, he dragged it across Barclay’s legs by accident and the human wasn’t quick enough in hiding his reaction.

“Should I do that again?”

“S-sure.”

“Can I kiss you at the same time?”

“Yes! No, fuck, wait we, we need to talk to Indrid and Duck about this.”

“I suspect they won’t mind, but you’re right. We’ll take a rain check, big guy. And please pass me that cake.”

In addition to his other good qualities, Joseph has the most sophisticated palates of anyone, mer or human, Barclay knows. As in he can taste the notes of blackberry or chocolate that a wine label insists are there but Barclay can only sort of get a hint of. Barclay once bought him a sampler box of expensive wines, cooked oysters over a driftwood fire, and hand fed both to Joseph as he moaned and wiggled with delight, outlining in no uncertain terms what he’d do for Barclay as a thank you.

(He still can’t look at a bottle of white wine without blushing)

That means Barclay has to make something that's as sweet and sophisticated as the mer himself. Ripe peaches tickle his nose. He grabs his copy of Dessert for All Seasons, flipping to summer with a smile.

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

“Okay, so” Barclay sets the bags down on the picnic blanket, “I, uh, I decided making one sweet thing wasn’t enough. I know that’s kinda silly but you three are so fucking important to me I wanted to do this right.”

“Doubt you’ll get any complaints from mr. sweet tooth.” Duck smirks. Indrid, lounging in linen shorts a moth patterned Hawaiin shirt, sticks his tongue out. The mer just blows him a kiss in response.

“And there’s no need to apologize for being thoughtful.” Joseph drapes his tail over Ducks, “it’s one of your best traits.”

“Thanks, babe. Uh, so, Indrid, this is for you.” He lifts the pie plate from the ice chest, “it’s pineapple cream with vanilla whipped cream on top.”

“I love you.” Indrid takes the dish with wide-eyed appreciation.

“Duck, these are for you.”

“Oh hell yeah, pretzels. Wait, is this-”

“French onion soup dip? Yep.”

“I’m gonna eat the hell outta this.”

“And, uh” he slides the cake carrier towards Joseph, “I found a recipe for a peaches and cream Prosecco cake. Hope you like it.”

Joseph lifts the lid, licks his lips, then pushes the carrier into the center of blanket so he can roll and put his head in Barclay’s lap.

“You’re the best.”

“Indeed. Which is why we have something for you as well.” Indrid stands, stepping over Duck and then eeping when the mer gently whacks his ass with his tail. When he returns (stopping to bend down a pinch the sensitive upper back of said tail), it’s with the cake carrier Barclay looked everywhere for earlier today.

Beneath the pink plastic lid is a cake coated in milk chocolate frosting.

“‘Drid said this was the one you made yourself for your birthday.”

“Oh fuck, the chocolate malt one?”

“The very same. We had to get a bit creative cooking it; Joseph suggested making the layers in cast iron over a fire, which worked well. After all, we didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

The frosting message of “happy one year anniversary” gets a little blurry, and he wipes his eyes, “this is so fucking sweet, you guys.”

“You deserve it.” Joseph kisses his hand as Indrid rests his head on his shoulder, Duck scooching over to lay across Indrid’s lap.

Barclay smiles, “We all do.”

#OT4: Government Men and Their Cryptid Boyfriends #mermay fills #mermay #Indruck #sternclay #duck newton/agent stern #Indrid cold/Barclay

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babycracker · 3 years

Text

Fire Meet Gasoline: Chapter 4

chapter rating: mature story rating: explicit pairing: morgan/m!oc (tanner drake) & farah/f!oc (sadie kennedy) word count: ~3k chapter warnings: none story warnings: eventual smut, canon-typical violence, au - canon divergent

read it on ao3 here

She'd expected him to dress down a little, seeing that they are likely venturing into a sewer this morning. But all that's missing is his jacket; he's still wearing his usual long sleeve dress shirt and vest though his sleeves have been partially folded back, revealing the smallest glimpse of a tattoo on the outside of his right forearm.

"You know you're probably going to get covered in crap, right?"

"Wrong. But if you want to keep doubting me, go right ahead," he grins an obnoxiously cocky grin at her before turning and heading around the warehouse towards the sewers.

It’s the darkest part of morning, the soft glow of sunlight only just beginning to peek over the horizon and she’s grateful that she doesn’t need light to see where she’s going, because if she did she’d be about screwed. Surprisingly, Tanner doesn’t seem to need it either. Whether it’s because he has above average eyesight himself or if he’s just used to reading the environment around him she’s not sure, but she guesses it's the latter. He has to be at least somewhat perceptive to be good enough at finding people to have caught the Agency’s attention. And as far as she knows, nephilims don’t possess any especially advanced abilities beyond their strength and speed.

She reluctantly falls into step beside him, the tattoo on his arm catching her attention again as they walk.

"What's that?" she asks eventually, curiosity getting the better of her.

"A tattoo," he deadpans.

"I'd worked that much out."

"You asked," he gives a shrug and she waits for him to say more, but apparently he's done talking.

"So one of your parents was an angel, right?"

He frowns over at her, "I didn't realise we were taking part in a team bonding exercise."

"Forget it, I'm not that interested," she doesn't even know why she has questions in the first place, let alone why she's bothering to ask them. Probably she just wants to know who she's venturing into the sewers with.

He lets out a sigh and she sees him cast a sideways glance at her. "My Dad."

"So do you have wings or something?"

"I do," he answers distractedly, his focus clearly on their surroundings rather than her.

"Really?"

"Do you have fangs?" he snaps at her, and she rolls her eyes. Fine. He doesn't want to talk, then they won't talk.

It doesn't take them long to reach the sewers, making it less plausible in her eyes that they're going to find anyone here. If there was a demon hanging around so close to them, they would've caught its scent by now.

His hand shoots out to get a tight grip on her arm as she starts to step out of the trees and he yanks her backwards roughly, making her stumble back against him. His arms wrap around her waist from behind both to steady her and hold her still, and when he leans down to shush her right against her ear a shiver runs up and down her spine.

She does as he says though, staying perfect still and quiet and definitely not thinking about how his arms feel around her or how the steady beat of his heart against her back makes her realise that he's having a far bigger effect on her than she is on him.

She's just about to ask him what they're waiting for when he lifts one arm and points in the direction of the main part of town where, sure enough, a tall, scrawny and scruffy looking man is skulking towards the sewer entrance.

"Told you so," his whisper is laced with a very subtle hint of sing song mocking, his chin just about resting on her shoulder for a moment before he lets go of her and steps away.

"Alright so what's…" she trails off as he steps out of the trees and walks straight towards the guy, throwing her arms out to the sides in exasperation as she finishes her sentence to herself, "the plan?"

She watches as Tanner strolls towards the alleged demon, who looks at him in confusion for a moment before recognition dawns on his face and he tries to make a run for it. Morgan readies herself to give chase, but Tanner's too fast anyway and wraps an arm tightly around his shoulders to keep him by his side as he walks him over to her.

His hand shifts to the back of the demon's neck, holding on so tight that Morgan can see his fingers digging into the skin. He pushes him towards her as though holding a stuffed animal out for her to inspect and raises an eyebrow. "Well? Ask your questions, we don't have all day."

"Don't we?"

"Well I don’t know about you, but I don’t have all day."

She scowls at him before returning her attention back to the demon.

“You’re working with a group of people, who and where are they?”

He just sneers at her before spitting at her feet, and Tanner lifts his free hand to smack him across the back of the head.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m not working with anyone.”

“You’re lying,” she glances at Tanner, who whacks him again before letting go of the back of his neck and taking hold of his wrists, holding them tightly behind the demon’s back.

“I’d tell her the truth if I were you,” he says in a low voice, and the demon scoffs and looks over his shoulder at him.

“I’ve heard about you. Heard that you don't play nice with others," he glances pointedly at Morgan, but Tanner just chuckles.

"Neither does she, so imagine how pissed off we both are already."

“Just cut the crap and tell me why you’re here,” Morgan butts in, and the demon glares back over at her.

“Why don’t you make me, little girl?”

Morgan huffs and steps closer, wrapping a hand around the demon’s neck while Tanner keeps his hands restrained behind him. She stares at him for a moment, a frown of concentration on her face before speaking again. “What do you want in Wayhaven?”

The demon sputters for a moment before answering, “word’s gotten ‘round about a human here, their blood can boost supernatural’s abilities.”

“How many of you are there?"

“Look, I’m just a scout, alright? I’ve only met with one other guy but I assume there’s a whole bunch of them.” Morgan glances up at Tanner with a frown, who just looks back at her with complete disinterest and shrugs.

“Who’s the one other guy you’ve met and where can we find him?”

“I only know him by Axle, he’s usually hanging out in a bar in the city.” Her hopes to be done with this mission and Tanner as quickly as possible instantly fade away, and judging by the look on his face, Tanner feels exactly the same way as they realise simultaneously that this means they’re going to have to travel to the city together.

“What bar?”

“Shakers.” Tanner sighs and releases the demon’s hands, and the guy slaps Morgan’s hand away from his neck and glares between them, rubbing at his sore wrists. “We done here?”

Morgan doesn’t answer, just waves a hand dismissively, her gaze focused on Tanner as the demon turns and jogs away from them, disappearing into the sewers.

“You know what this means, right?” she asks, and he rolls his eyes before turning and stalking back in the direction of the warehouse.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters in response.

Well. This is beyond irritating and quite frankly Tanner isn't finding it entertaining in the slightest anymore. He moodily trudges along beside Morgan, flexing his hands and then clenching them into fists over and over and glaring at nothing in particular and going over in his mind how he's going to track down Helk now so that he can get the hell out of here and the hell away from Unit Bravo.

“Well?” Adam asks before they’ve even made it all the way into the common room where the rest of the vampires are waiting for them when they return.

“We got a vague name and a vague location somewhere in the city,” Morgan answers, taking up her usual spot in the shadowed corner and leaning against the small table there.

“So when do you leave?”

“Uh, excuse me, what?” Tanner cuts in before Morgan can answer, and Adam turns to frown at him. “I’m not going into the city with her.”

“Yes. You are,” Adam turns away from him to address the rest of the group but Tanner steps forward, irritation taking over him. He sees Farah’s eyes widen when he places a hand on Adam’s shoulder and turns him towards him again. Adam’s eyes narrow and he pointedly looks down at Tanner’s hand on his shoulder before turning his harsh gaze up to his face.

“You’re not my commanding agent.”

“You were assigned to work with us, so at the moment I am.”

“I did what I was assigned to do.”

Adam finally shrugs his hand off of him when it becomes obvious that Tanner’s not going to move it himself. “You were assigned to assist Morgan in finding this group. You have found one person and a possible location of another.”

Tanner glares at him, his fingers fidgeting at his sides as he considers the repercussions of telling Adam to shove it up his ass and leaving anyway, but decides that the risk of being caught and disciplined by the Agency are too great.

“I guess we’re leaving now, then,” he huffs in obvious annoyance, starting out of the room before turning to raise an eyebrow at Morgan. “You coming?”

She glances at Adam who gives a single nod and she sighs loudly before pushing herself off of the table and following Tanner out the door.

“I gotta make a quick stop before we leave town,” he tells her moodily as he stalks through the halls and out of the warehouse, and Morgan jogs to catch up with him and catches his arm to stop him. It doesn’t work, but he does slow down a little and glance over at her.

“Adam’s not gonna be happy if he finds out you’re running personal errands on a mission.”

“Adam’s never happy,” he answers bluntly, shaking her hand off of his arm.

It’s not ideal, but he can make this work for him. If he’s going to be forced to work with a vampire then he might as well get some use out of her. She can help him find Helk before they leave for the city, because there’s not a hope in hell that he’s leaving this sad little town without the things he came here for in the first place.

“You still after this goblin or whatever?”

“Yes.”

“Why so eager to find him?”

“Because he has my rings and I need them back.”

She’s quiet for a moment before replying, “what’s so special about them?”

He turns to face her with what’s almost a low growl, narrowing his eyes at her. “They’re mine.”

“Yeah, but do they do anything?”

“Two of them do,” he’s growing increasingly annoyed with the relentless questioning.

“And the rest?”

“The rest are none of your fucking business.”

“I think if you’re planning on roping me into helping you get them back then it kind of is my business.”

He rolls his eyes and starts walking again, not bothering to check if she’s following before calling back over his shoulder, “no one’s making you hang about, sunshine.”

It takes a minute but he hears her jogging again to catch back up with him, and he glances over at her when she falls back into step beside him. “Do you have any ideas where he is?”

“I think so.”

“Then let’s get it over with so we can get back to work.”

He doesn’t reply, a little surprised that she’s agreed to help him so easily but mostly because he doesn’t want to appear too grateful for her agreement. She already knows that he wants them back, she doesn’t need to know how desperately.

Even she can barely keep up with how efficiently he can get information out of people and how quickly he can put the pieces together and work out exactly where someone is. It’s actually quite impressive, not that she’d ever tell him that.

She spends the rest of the morning tailing him, watching him work his charms on several of the shopkeepers and workers of Wayhaven, getting snippets of information from each of them about a strange man that none of them recognise wandering about town, until they make it to their last stop; a jewellery store at the end of the main street.

Apparently a “funny looking little man” who had introduced himself as Bill had been here only an hour before them, claiming that he had some rings for sale and had gone home to retrieve them and bring them back to be valued.

“Maybe he has something closer to what we’re looking for, darling,” it takes her a moment to realise that he’s talking to her, and she blinks up at him while he watches her expectantly. After a few seconds he gives up and subtly rolls his eyes at her. “Come on, we’ll have a look around while we wait.”

She tenses when he slings an arm over her shoulders and leads her away from the cashier and to the other side of the store, glancing over his shoulder before moving behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist to lean down closer to her ear.

“Thought you’d be better at role play than this,” he murmurs, and she slaps at his hands until he lets go of her.

“I’m better at it when I know it’s coming. What, you’re just gonna wait here for him?”

“Yep.”

Before she can launch into a speech about how stupid his plan is, the bell at the door rings and she looks over to see a small and dreadfully ugly man walk into the store holding a small black velvet bag.

“Is that him?” Tanner asks her, giving her an irritating ‘told you so’ smirk and she shrugs.

“How the hell am I supposed to know?” She turns to face Tanner, her eyes on the man as he suddenly turns and looks at them, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “He’s watching us.”

Tanner lets out a barely audible but obviously frustrated groan before pushing her away from him and spinning around.

“Bill, is it?” There’s no small amount of sarcasm in his voice, and the goblin’s eyes widen as he almost drops the small bag that he’s holding.

“Tanner!” he exclaims, slowly starting to back up towards the door.

“I believe you have some things of mine in there,” Tanner gestures to the bag but barely makes it one step closer to him before who is now obviously Helk turns tail and takes off out the door and down the street.

“Oh for fuck sake,” Tanner mutters before starting out after him, but before he even makes it onto the street Morgan is chasing after him on her own, and by the time Tanner gets outside she’s got a hold of the goblin’s arm and is leaning against the wall waiting for him.

Tanner grins at her and gives a nod of appreciation as he calmly walks over to them and holds his hand out. “My rings?”

“I- um. I was gonna give the important ones back, I swear.”

“They’re all important.”

“I thought there was only those two that-”

“You thought wrong, now give them back.” Tanner cuts in, and Morgan wonders what the two in question are actually for and why this goblin seems to know about it while Tanner refuses to tell her.

“You don’t get it, I need the money.”

“No, you don’t get it, so let me make it clear to you. I will break a finger for every minute that goes by without you giving them back to me. Starting now.”

“Tanner, wait,” she protests. Adam will not be pleased if he finds out they’ve injured someone for personal reasons. His gaze snaps up towards her and he nods down the street.

“You don’t like it, go and wait around the corner,” he snatches the goblins arm away from her and gives him a smile which - under a different circumstance - could be considered friendly before taking his hand in both of his and bending his pointer finger backwards.

“You should listen to your girlfriend, half-breed,” the goblin taunts, giving him a smirk and a wave of anger crashes over Morgan. She narrows her eyes and comes to stand beside Tanner, taking Helk’s other hand in hers.

“You want us to break two at a time?” she ignores the way Tanner glances over at her, something other than arrogance or annoyance on his face for once - maybe he even looks a little impressed with her - and keeps her gaze on the goblin.

“Alright, alright,” Helk snatches his hand away from her and digs into his pocket for the bag, pushing it into Tanner’s chest and shaking his hands when he gets them free. “Jeez, didn’t take you for such a sentimental little thing.”

“You want me to break your fucking hand anyway? Piss off.” Tanner spits at him, and the goblin glances between them hesitantly for a moment before turning and taking off down the street.

“So can we get going now?” Morgan asks and he gives a distracted nod, though it doesn’t really seem like he’s even heard her as he opens the bag and empties its contents into his palm. A small sigh of relief escapes him as he slides the rings back onto his fingers, pausing at a small and delicate looking silver band and closing his eyes for a moment before slipping it onto his pinky finger.

She decides against asking what the deal is with that ring in particular, she doesn’t care enough to be willing to deal with his attitude about it again.

“Yeah, lets go,” he finally answers, holding his hands out and looking at them with a satisfied nod before turning his attention to her. “We driving or are you just gonna run there?”

“I’m not getting in a car with you,” she retorts, and he shrugs and hands her a small scrap of paper with an address written on it before turning and walking back towards the tree line.

“Why the fuck would I drive if I don’t need to? Meet me there.” he calls over his shoulder, glancing around him carefully before a massive pair of light grey wings extend from the centre of his back and he’s gone.

tags (please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed): @admdmrtn @masonsfangs @oxjenayxo @mmerengue @agentsunshine @bravomckenzie @freckles-spangledvampire @mistyeyedbi @agentnolastname @kelseaaa @detectivewiseman @utterlyinevitable @masonscig

#twc writing #the wayhaven chronicles #unit bravo #a du mortain #n sewell #f hauville #twc morgan #tanner drake #sadie kennedy #fire meet gasoline #chapter update #n*fw #kat writes

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thisissirius · 4 years

Text

the most important mark to leave [AO3 Link] eddie/buck, chris. birthdays, marriage proposals, fluff and family.

“This is gross,” Eddie mutters.

If Abuela were to ever see the inside of his fridge; Eddie doesn’t wanna think about it. He moves some of the tupperware out of the way, wrinkling his nose. He doesn’t know how long some have these have been here. He gets a steady collection of pre-cooked food thanks to both Abuela and Buck, who are determined that Chris never eats anything Eddie cooks.

Which, fair, when Eddie’s not taking a dent to his pride, he can admit that living off of canned and boxed food isn’t the healthiest.

“Dad?”

Eddie looks back over his shoulder. Chris is at the table, doing his spelling for the next day. He’s been going through a nope phase with anything writing related, so Eddie’s pleased to see it. “Yeah, buddy?”

Chris shifts on his seat. “Is Buck coming over next Saturday?”

“Uh,” Eddie says, trying to think what’s happening next Saturday. He’s not working and he’s almost positive Buck’s been making noise about the aquarium. “I think so. We’ll have to ask.”

“No!” Chris looks contrite right after his shout.

“No?” Eddie raises his eyebrows and drops some of the tuppers into the trash. They’re beyond saving and it’s easier to buy new ones than expose himself—and Chris—to whatever’s inside. “Chris—”

“I meant,” Chris starts, “we have to ask him because he’s gotta come to his birthday party.”

Eddie’s not forgotten it’s Buck’s birthday; he’s already got Buck’s gift planned out, he just needs the right time. They haven’t been able to go on a proper date in weeks, but that’s never bothered them. Buck likes the domesticity that comes from being a father—and Eddie’s always going to be grateful Buck loves his son like he’s his own—and Eddie loves being under his own roof and not having a ton of people stare at him when he's inevitably awkward. “I don’t know if Buck wants that.”

Chris frowns, then puts down his pen. He meets Eddie’s eyes unflinchingly. “Dad, Buck’s not gonna say he wants a party. He doesn’t think you want a fuss.”

Eddie is, apparently, a failure of a partner. “Buck—”

“He told Abuela,” Chris says, matter-of-factly. “I wasn’t meant to hear but they thought I was sleeping. He knows you don’t like big celebration things unless they’re inside but he wants a backyard party. He wants fireworks because he thinks they’re cool and he never got them when he was as old as me. He also never got cake like I do. That’s really sad, Dad.”

It takes Eddie a moment to get his feelings under control. When he does, he closes the fridge door and sits across from Chris. He doesn’t know any of this about Buck but he’s not surprised; they don’t talk about their pasts because there’s so much there they don’t want to address. Their present and their future have always been their focus because they’re more important. Eddie thinks maybe it’s a mistake.

“Buck wants to be happy.” Chris stares down at his homework, still frowning. “He doesn’t want you to be upset with what he wants.”

There’s clearly things both he and Buck have to talk about, but Eddie’s overcome with emotion; he wants Buck to have whatever he needs, to enjoy his birthday instead of worrying about what everyone else thinks. “Well,” he says, leaning across the table and sharing a grin with his son. “I guess we should plan Buck’s birthday, shouldn’t we?”

Chris cheers and then looks down at his homework. “Does this mean I don’t have to do my spelling?”

“Nice try, buddy,” Eddie says with a laugh. “Unless you want me to call Buck and tell him you’re not doing your homework.”

“Alright,” Chris says. “I’ll finish it.”

“It should be superheroes,” Chris says.

Eddie pulls into the mall parking lot, cursing when there isn’t an available spot. Where are all the people coming from? It’s his only day off and he doesn’t wanna spend it driving around a parking lot. There’s a woman in a minivan almost on his tail and he rolls his eyes. Tapping his fingers on the wheel, he curses inwardly. “Why’s that?”

Chris sighs dramatically and Eddie snorts. He’s definitely been spending too much time with Buck. “Because Buck loves superheroes, Dad. That’s why he wants a replicon Steve shield for his birthday.”

“Replica,” Eddie corrects gently, grinning. A spot opens up and he manages to swipe it before the woman in the minivan. She looks harassed, four kids in the back, and Eddie gets a flashback to Chris’ sleepover. He doesn’t envy her one bit. “It’s a good job we managed to get it then, isn’t it?”

Chris meets his eyes in the mirror. “We’re the best.”

“Yes, we are,” Eddie says, shutting off the truck. “How about we grab Buck a cake?”

Navigating the market is an exercise in frustration at the best of times, but even more so when Chris is demanding everything be perfect. Not that Eddie’s complaining; after the couple of years Buck’s had, he deserves to be lavished with affection and Chris is nothing if not the best source of that where Buck’s concerned.

They scan the row of cakes and Eddie’s not finding any good enough. Now that he knows Buck’s never had one, he wants it to be perfect. Chris also comments on most of them; he likes some of the characters he and Buck watch on television. (Eddie doesn’t have the heart to tell him Buck watches the cartoons because Chris likes them). He stops at the generic ones; round chocolate cakes, red velvet, the occasional long and thin caterpillar cakes.

“I like that one,” Chris says. He points to a heart-shaped cake on one of the lower shelves.

Eddie raises his eyebrows. “Why that one?”

Chris tips his head back, looking up at Eddie with a grin. “Buck’s got a big heart, Dad, and he gives it to all of us all the time. Now we get to show him we know.”

One day Eddie’s gonna stop being surprised by his son’s goodness. Though it’s less surprise and more awe that he’s responsible for such a beautiful human being. “I love you so much, kid.”

“I love you too, Dad,” Chris says and Eddie’s not sure if that’s a roll of his eyes. Honestly, Buck time is being rationed. “So are we getting the cake?”

Eddie agrees easily and puts the cake in the cart. It’s probably cheaper to make his own, but he’s never tried baking before and he knows the instant he turns on the oven to try, Buck’ll appear somehow to yell him out of the kitchen. “I think that’s it, bud.”

“No.” Chris unfolds the piece of paper he’s been clutching the entire trip and gives it to Eddie. “We haven’t got the decorations yet.”

The list is small; Cake. Decorations. Dad. Friends. Me. Kisses. Hugs. Lots of Love. Abuela’s cooking. Not Dad’s cooking.

Swallowing, Eddie takes a moment. “Is this what we need for Buck’s birthday?”

Chris nods. “The decorations have to be superheroes too, Dad. Captain America because that’s Bucky’s favourite, but they need to have Buck’s face on.”

Eddie slips the paper into his pocket—his son understands Buck so well that sometimes Eddie doesn’t know what to do with it—and guides the cart after his son. “I don’t think that’s possible, Buddy.”

“Tia Pepa can print out lots of pictures of Buck’s face,” Chris explains, and Eddie keeps one eye on him, the other on the other patrons of the store. “Then we can stick them to the balloons and things.”

Chris rambles as they walk and though Eddie doesn’t know how they’re gonna go about sticking Buck’s face to everything, he dutifully puts the Captain America decorations in the cart. His bank balance isn’t going to thank him, especially with what the replica shield cost him, but Buck’s the second best thing in his life. Eddie gets to spoil him the same way he spoils Christopher. His son isn’t wrong about Buck; he does give his heart, usually in pieces, and doesn’t expect anything back in return. Eddie tries to give it but he knows he’s not the best at emotions and being candid. He’s working on it, and hopefully this party will help.

The cashier runs them through quickly, though she gives Chris a bright smile. “One of your friends having a party?”

“My Papa,” Chris says easily, and Eddie’s heart skips a beat. It never gets old, the words themselves, or the casual intimacy with which Chris says them. The love Buck and Chris have—Eddie knows he’ll never find someone else who loves Chris as much. “He’s never had a party before!”

“Chris,” Eddie says gently. The cashier doesn’t know Buck, but he’s not sure Buck’ll want everyone knowing his business.

“It’s okay, Dad,” Chris says, grinning at the cashier. “Buck doesn’t have to be sad anymore because he’s got us.”

Eddie can’t say anything for a moment, but the cashier kindly gives him the total, holding her hand out for Chris. “You make sure your Papa gets the best party.”

“Yeah,” Chris says, hi-fiving the cashier over the counter. “He’s gonna be excited.”

Excited or pissed off, Eddie thinks, when he sees the state of their house.

The confetti was a terrible idea. There’s no way it’s coming out of the carpet easy even with the tech-heavy vacuum Buck insisted on buying—and knows Eddie fucking hates.

(“It doesn’t suck properly!”

“Maybe it’s been taking lessons from you.”

“Fuck you, Buckley.)

Blowing up balloons is fast becoming the worst preparation for the party and he’s ready to give up when there’s a knock at the door. Only too happy to abandon his assigned task, he yells, “I’ve got it.”

Abuela’s in the backyard with Chris and Eddie’s got no idea what they’re up to. He’s not sure he wants to find out. When he pulls open the door, he grins. Chim and Maddie have arms full with food and gifts, and Eddie gestures them in.

“Gifts on the coffee table, food in the kitchen. No,” he continues at Maddie’s look, “I won’t be touching it.”

Maddie snorts and takes the food through to the kitchen. “Where is Buck anyway?”

“We sent him on an errand,” Eddie explains. “I can’t even remember what, Chris’ idea. Who are you guys supposed to be anyway?”

“I don’t know any superheroes,” Maddie says with a shrug. “Chim picked for me.”

Eddie and Chim share a knowing look. The Buckley lack of pop culture is a shock until you know their history.

“If I’m coming as Falcon,” Chim explains, “She’s gotta be the Winter Soldier.”

“Is this because he’s a guy?” Eddie asks.

“Chim!” Maddie slaps Chim’s arm and he laughs.

“What? You said you wanted to hide your body, not expose it!”

Eddie bites back on another laugh. “Be thankful he didn’t make you come as Man-Ape.”

Maddie obviously doesn’t know who that is, but she settles for beating Chim with a pillow. Eddie’s saved from having to intervene by the doorbell going off again.

It doesn’t take long for the house to fill up; Hen and Karen bring their kids, Bobby and the Grants arrive not long after, and Chris finally comes to find him in the kitchen absolutely not touching anything.

“Dad, I wanna get ready.”

“I thought you were,” Eddie says. “Where’s your outfit, buddy? Are you still going with Superman?”

Chris shakes his head. “No. I asked Abuela to get it for me and Tia Pepa helped. I want you to help me put it on.”

Eddie’s got no idea what’s happening, but he yells to Bobby and Athena that he’s helping Chris get ready and could someone please call Buck and tell him to come home? When he joins Chris in his bedroom, he knows he shouldn’t be surprised to see firefighting gear on the bed.

“I wanted to go as Bucky,” Chris explains, looking at the floor. “I don’t want you to be mad.”

With a pain in his chest that Eddie tries to shove down, he crouches in front of Chris, holding his hands. “I’m not mad, I promise. Why would I be? Buck’s important to you and to me.”

Chris still isn’t smiling. “I love you, Dad, but sometimes people don’t like sharing.”

Eddie doesn’t hesitate, he sweeps Chris into his arms and sits on the end of the bed. Chris gets comfortable, resting his head on Eddie’s shoulder. “Buddy, there’s nothing in this world that I want more than to share you with Buck. Seeing you two happy makes me smile the hardest and you know why?”

“No,” Chris says, shaking his head.

“Because I love you both so much. Sharing you with Buck is easy, mijo, and you shouldn’t ever be sad to tell me you want to be like Buck, or love him, or anything else, okay?”

Chris doesn’t answer for a moment. “Does that mean you won’t be mad about this?”

Eddie looks over his shoulder to see what he’s talking about and almost has a heart attack.

“I need you to help me in the bathroom too,” Chris says, making his way across the hall. Eddie follows, a little emotional about Chris in the firefighter outfit. With his curly hair he passes easily for a younger Buck and Eddie can’t wait for Buck to see him. “I need Buck’s birthmark, Dad.”

Oh, oh no. Eddie almost can’t stand it. “Buddy, that’s great. I didn’t think of that.”

“Buck’s not gonna know otherwise,” Chris says.

“Oh, I think the jacket gives it away,” Eddie says.

Chris watches his face as he sits on the toilet and hands Eddie some face paint. Abuela’s doing again, no doubt. He carefully applies some of the red to Chris’ face; he doesn’t have to look at an image of Buck to know what he’s doing. He’s spent hours of his life memorising every inch of Buck’s body, but especially his birthmark. It’s his favourite place to press a kiss, the best way to elicit a shiver out of Buck, the place he touches when he knows Buck’s sensitive. It’s a reminder for Buck, sometimes, that he’s beautiful inside and out, something Eddie knows he doesn’t believe all that much.

“You’re not mad about the jacket, are you, Daddy?”

Eddie puts down the face paint, rubs his thumb against the mark on Christopher’s eye. He sighs, scratching at the back of his head. “No, buddy. I wanted to do it for his birthday anyway, but I haven’t had time to figure it out.”

Chris nods, looking at his feet, but Eddie places a finger gently under his chin. Chris doesn’t look away. “I want to help you. Buck needs to know we both want him to stay.”

“I don’t think there’s any doubt in his mind,” Eddie says gently, “but I think it’ll help.”

Chris’ smile is worth the discomfort Eddie’s gonna get from this. Buck deserves the world, isn’t that what he’s always saying? Buck’s world is right here; Chris, Eddie, his station family.

“Buck’s here!”

Maddie’s yell breaks them out and Chris panics. “Dad, I’m not ready!”

“Calm down, mijo,” Eddie says, kissing the top of Chris’ head. “We’ll be out there in time.”

Buck’s face when he opens the door is priceless.

The scream he lets out when they yell, “Surprise!” is the best sound Eddie’s ever heard.

When he sees Christopher and starts crying, Eddie thinks he’s probably gonna burst into tears as well.

“Thank you, Chris,” Buck says, pressing his face into Chris’ neck. “You look great.”

“We have to be our favourite superheroes,” Chris says, not protesting when Buck picks him up. He throws his arms around Buck’s neck. “I even had Daddy do your birthmark.”

Buck laughs, kissing the side of Christopher’s face. He pretends to gasp, eyes wide. “So I see.It looks so real!”

Chris giggles, “It’s only face paint!”

“No,” Buck says with exaggeration and yeah, Eddie knew he’s the reason for Chris’ sass. “I thought I was looking in a mirror.”

“Silly,” Chris says.

Buck’s eyes are suspiciously shiny when he tugs Eddie in for a hug, their son trapped between them. Buck’s lips are brushing his ear. “Who are you supposed to be?”

“Myself, apparently,” Eddie says slowly.

“Daddy doesn’t think he’s a hero,” Chris says decisively, “so I had to remind him that he’s your hero!”

Buck looks Eddie in the eye, thumb rubbing the skin beneath his eye. “Damn straight.”

“Shut up,” Eddie says, turning his face away. “Pretty sure that means you’re the one supposed to be wearing this shirt.”

“I don’t know,” Buck says, pitching his voice low. “I like you in your uniform.”

Eddie definitely doesn’t wanna be thinking about that in a packed household. “Come on, Buckley, there are other guests.”

“Oh,” Maddie cuts in, “you remembered us, then?”

A laugh runs around the room, and Buck obliges when Chris asks to be put down. Eddie stays on the periphery, watching Buck do the rounds and getting the hugs and appreciation he deserves. Buck’s surprised by all of it, he knows, and he understands why; Buck’s starved for affection, accepts it from Eddie without hesitation. Still, he doesn’t know his own worth and Eddie’s gonna spend a lifetime showing him.

The cake is a hit. When Chris explains about the heart and giving out pieces, Eddie thinks everyone in the room is a little teary-eyed. Buck gets to bury his in Chris’ hair, and Eddie’s lucky enough to have Abuela nearby to do the same.

“You did good, nieto,” Abuela says, touching his elbow.

Eddie shrugs. “It’s all Chris. I just paid the bill.”

Abuela tuts at him, rolling her eyes. Okay, maybe Abuela’s responsible for 50% of Chris’ sass. “You underestimate yourself, Eddito. We both know how much you love that boy.”

“And everyone else is about to,” Eddie adds dryly. His Abuela’s shrug and lack of shame are obvious, but he can’t bring himself to be sorry that she enabled his son. “How did you know?”

There’s a short silence while Abuela looks at Buck, then back to him. “I didn’t care for Shannon,” she starts, and Eddie doesn’t want to hear this, but Abuela holds up a hand. “I know you loved her and I know she loved Chris, that she wanted what was best for him, but you, Eddie. You were never happy. Not like this.”

Eddie doesn’t know what to say. “I was happy.”

“Perhaps,” Abuela allows, “but you didn’t show it. Not like this,” she says quietly. “Not when you look at Evan. You don’t see it yourself, but I haven’t seen you smile and laugh as much as you have these past few years. You’ve changed, Edmundo, and maybe he didn’t change you, but he made you love yourself and for that I can never love him enough.”

“Abuela,” Eddie says and hears his own voice break. She hugs him, kisses his cheek. It’s a lot to take, a lot to hear, but he knows she’s right. Buck does make him happy. He can’t remember the last time he felt the burn of anger, or the overwhelming need to run after a flashback or nightmare. Buck’s always there, guiding him through the pain, reminding him that he’s loved, that he’s got a family. It’s always Buck.

It’s time.

Buck’s in the middle of a conversation with Maddie and Hen about something, so Eddie finds Chris, whispers in his ear that he should get his jacket. Abuela promises to take him, and Eddie heads off Bobby and Karen who both want to talk. “Sorry, I have to do something quick.”

Bobby’s eyebrows raise and Eddie panics that maybe he knows. “Something important?”

“Kinda,” Eddie says, then raises his voice. “Okay, gift time!”

“Eddie,” Buck says, flushing. “We don’t have to do that now.”

Eddie looks at the pile of gifts. “Okay maybe not those, but there is mine.”

“We don’t wanna be a part of this,” Chim cuts in, only to get a slap from Maddie. “What? There are kids here!”

“Which is why,” Eddie says, “this is a PG gift.”

Buck’s staring at him, torn between embarrassment and confusion, but his eyes flick to the doorway, where Chris is coming back into the room. He’s got a turnout jacket on, grinning widely, and Abuela’s gaze finds Eddie. She nods encouragement and he swallows once, twice, and then wipes his sweaty hands on his pants.

“Buddy,” Buck says, sounding awed. “The jacket looks awesome!”

Athena and May, both directly behind Chris, exchange a look and Eddie knows he sees tears in Athena’s eyes. Bobby looks at Eddie and yeah, he definitely knows.

“Wait,” Chris says, “I gotta turn around, Bucky.”

“What—,” Buck starts. His voice cuts off, mouth dropping open as Chris turns around and he sees what’s written on the jacket. “I don’t.”

“Oh,” Maddie says, pressing a hand to his mouth. “Eddie.”

Eddie moves around Chris, sees the lettering stamped on the jacket.

B. Diaz.

“It’s because you’re a Diaz now!”

Christopher’s words have Buck’s gaze flicking to Eddie.

“Almost,” Eddie says, and goes down on one knee.

“Oh my god,” Buck says.

“Oh my god,” Chim echoes.

“Daddy, you have to ask the question,” Chris puts in.

“I’m getting there, Chris,” Eddie says with a laugh. When he’s considered this moment before, he’s always imagined it in private, the two of them mutually proposing, or Eddie doing it at the wrong moment. This feels like the perfect moment; surrounded by family, Chris shoving him along like he always does, and Buck looking at Eddie like he’s surprised he can be so happy. “I love you, Evan,” he says.

“Eddie,” Buck starts. “I love you.”

“I know.” Eddie fumbles for the box in his pocket, the one he’s had buried in his closet for months. “I think if I give a speech, Chris might riot, so I’m just gonna ask; you wanna get married?”

Buck laughs, leans down and drags Eddie into a kiss. “Obviously, idiot.”

When they part, Eddie looks offended. “That’s not nice, Buckley.”

“Diaz,” Buck says breathlessly, pupils dilating. Inappropriate but understandable.

“Diaz,” Eddie agrees. They’re not married yet, but what the fuck ever. Buck’s been a Diaz from the moment he met Chris.

“What the hell kind of proposal,” Chim mutters.

Maddie’s crying, but she still manages to slap Chim on the arm.

Arms come around Eddie’s legs and he laughs, leans down to lift Chris up, who promptly wraps his arms around both Eddie and Buck. “Diazes!”

“Diazes indeed,” Buck says, sounding pleased.

When the sky starts to darken outside, Hen and Karen make noises about leaving.

“Thanks for coming,” Eddie says, hugging Hen tight.

“Are you kidding?” Hen grins. “Who knew you were a closet romantic?”

“I did,” Buck says, handing Nia back to Karen. “Thanks, guys.”

With a quick kiss to Nia’s cheek and a promise to Denny for a sleepover soon, Eddie gives Buck a knowing look. “Spilling my secrets already?”

“What are husbands for?” Buck says with a grin.

Husband. Okay, wow, Eddie’s deliberately not thinking about that word but now it’s out there he can’t not. From the expression on Buck’s face, he knows it.

“Alright boys,” Athena says, shoving at Eddie’s shoulder. “There’s still kids in the house.”

Buck immediately drags her into a hug, and if his wince is anything to go by, Athena’s grip is strong. “Thanks, Athena.”

Touching a hand to Buck’s face, Athena shakes him once. “I’m proud of you, Buck. So proud.”

“Yeah,” Buck breathes, looking like he’s gonna start crying again. Athena kisses his cheek, then steps towards Eddie.

“Don’t hurt me,” Eddie says, holding up his hands.

“Idiot,” Athena chastises, and gives him a bone-crushing hug as well. “I love both of you boys. You take care, you hear me?”

Eddie nods, a little overwhelmed, and catches the tail end of Bobby’s talk with Buck. Buck’s definitely crying, and Bobby’s holding him. Whatever they’re saying is too low for Eddie to make out, but he’s not sure he wants to know. May and Harry interrupt, telling Eddie they’re happy for him, and Michael’s soft congratulations are just as welcome.

“I never thought,” Bobby says, when he finally gets around to saying goodbye to Eddie, “that you’d come this far. All those months ago in my office, I wasn’t sure you’d ever be ready.”

“Neither did I,” Eddie admits. He doesn’t have to ask how Bobby knew, whether or not he’s always been obvious because he knows he has. He’s been afraid of plenty of things in his life, made a ton of mistakes, but this thing with Buck isn’t one of them. Buck himself is the best thing that’s ever come into Eddie and Christopher’s life and he’ll never feel worthy of it. “Thanks for everything.”

Bobby nods, hugging Eddie tight and Eddie returns it.

Eddie loves his father and he knows deep down that his father loves him too, but there’s a lot of shit between them. Loving Bobby is easy, believing that he’s a surrogate son in Bobby’s eyes is easy.

“Take some time,” Bobby says, with a wry smile. “Couple of days. We’ll cover your shifts.”

“I dunno,” Eddie says. “I kinda need to pay for this party.”

Buck flips him off behind Bobby’s back and Bobby looks unimpressed. “I saw that, Evan.”

Maddie, Chim and Abuela are the last to leave.

Maddie’s hug is tight despite her growing belly, and she whispers, “Thank you,” in Eddie’s ear. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Evan so happy.”

Eddie nods with a shrug. He can feel his face heating up, but he knows he’s grinning like an idiot. “He deserves more of the credit.”

“You’re both dumbasses,” Chim adds, but he gives both of them a tight hug anyway. “I can’t believe you’re gonna marry before us.”

Maddie snorts, but Buck just elbows Eddie. “We have a kid before you too.”

“Ouch,” Chim says, clutching at his chest. “Right for the heart.”

“Sorry about him,” Maddie says with a roll of her eyes. “Come on, idiot. I’m craving pickles and ice cream.”

“Gross,” Chim mouths, but dutifully follows Maddie out of the house. Buck’s making a face as well but Eddie’s never had pickles and ice cream; it sounds like it might be okay.

Abuela’s saying goodbye to Chris, whispering to him in Spanish and Eddie rolls his eyes. He’s sure he doesn’t wanna know what’s happening there. The face paint smudged a little while ago and Abuela wets her thumb, starts to smooth it out, but Chris stops her with a pout.

Laughing, she approaches Eddie and Buck.

“I’m happy,” she says, bringing Eddie in for a hug. “Maddie and I have a lot to talk about, no?”

“Small wedding,” Eddie warns.

Abuela waves him off, and Eddie can only laugh at Buck’s panicked expression. Eddie knows better than to argue with Abuela, but maybe he and Buck can marry first, let Abuela and Maddie have the reception. It’s something they can talk about. Later.

“And you,” Abuela says, dragging Buck into a hug. Buck buries his face in Abuela’s neck and she soothes his hair, whispering something. There’s a lot of whispering and while again, Eddie doesn’t wanna know what she’s saying, it’s because this is just for Buck. Eddie doesn’t know anything about Buck’s grandparents, but he’s taken to Abuela like he did Chris and Eddie both; wholeheartedly and without reservation. “Wednesday, Corazón Salvaje.”

“You got it,” Buck says with a laugh and yeah, he’s definitely crying again.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “I don’t know why you watch that when you can’t understand it.”

“Idiota,” Abuela says, at the same time Buck says, “Stop trying to understand Abuela Time.”

“Abuela Time,” Eddie says, sounding confused.

Buck flushes, but Abuela laughs, patting Buck on the waist. “Later, nieto.”

“Bye, Abuela,” Buck says, and Eddie echoes the sentiment. They wait until Pepa pulls out of the driveway and close the door. Buck turns, making a face at the state of the house. “I hate cleanup.”

“You can vacuum the confetti,” Eddie tells him. “You bought the stupid thing.”

Buck opens his mouth, probably to object, but instead he tugs Eddie in, giving Chris a quick glance. Their son is busy with the TV, queueing up one of Buck’s gifted movies. “You,” Buck says, hands on Eddie’s face, “are the most amazing man.”

“It’s all Chris,” Eddie admits. “Everything. He knew you wanted this, wanted to celebrate. I’m sorry I didn’t know it.”

“This was perfect,” Buck says. “It would have been perfect just us.”

Eddie nods. He knows. “But you have to tell me,” he continues, kissing Buck gently, “when you want something, even if you think I won’t want it. Relationships are a compromise.”

“Marriages are,” Buck agrees, awed.

“Yeah,” Eddie laughs. “So as husbands, we should be honest.”

Buck’s grinning like an idiot as he pulls Eddie in for a tight hug. Eddie feels lighter than he has in weeks, knows this is the start of something amazing.

“I’ll grab the snacks and you get settled on the couch.” Buck pats him on the ass and moves off towards the kitchen. Eddie’s halfway across the room when he remembers about the trash and winces at Buck’s yell. “Eddie Diaz, I am celebrating my birthday so why the HELL is there good food spoiled in the trash?”

“Fuck,” Eddie says.

“Curse word!” Chris adds helpfully.

Eddie sighs. “I can explain!”

He really, really can’t.

#buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #911 fic #fic by me #queenginnys #THIS IS WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT #bye #otp: i forgive you

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leighlim · 3 years

Photo

Felicity is portrayed as an awkward person....a nerd....someone who struggles with fashion (I noticed that there were some changes in season 2) but still manages to carry herself decently. What I’ve been noticing (I know it’s the writing as well)....was despite the awkward moments (I’m foggy on which one to mention)....she is a great conversationalist (and probably has no idea how good she is).

(Hopefully by this point you’ve finished all 4 Seasons of ‘Felicity’, the kind of person who isn’t bothered by spoilers, or are just deciding if you still want to keep watching.)

I’m not sure how many times Ben tells her that she makes him nervous (and probably the reason why he gravitates towards other people ---- they don’t necessarily challenge his views and thinking). I thought the scene when she helps (unintentionally) Ben approach his drama exercise was interesting.

It’s not until a later episode (when she rewrites Ben’s essay) that she admits to wanting to impress him too (or maybe show that she can be a good ‘life partner’?). But as we’ve seen time and time again....Ben is already impressed...in fact...he’s intimidated. He knows he’s not good enough for her (or at least he thinks he isn’t)...and needs to get past that...before they could truly have a healthy relationship (and...you know...not bounce from each other then to another person).

I had been reading some write ups about the show and was delightfully surprised how many appreciated the performances (and the show as a whole)...one thing came up though....was Ben (during the addendum episodes of Season 4) cheating. There were viewers who thought that wasn’t like him at all. I think if he still hasn’t gotten over his tendency to push people away (as Felicity has observed during those many times they had apart).

PS: It definitely is odd listening to the soundtrack (or rather replacement tracks) and wondering if the replacement is better or worse that the original track.

PPS: Another thing the show does well? Is set-ups and payoffs. I’m not sure how many times Felicity’s necklace has been a focal point of an episode (if not an addition to a storyline or arc).

PPPS: And I definitely was asking myself why Ben would want Russian over Acting? (I do wonder if it’s an inside joke within the writing staff...and the cast...)

Or why Ben would want to learn Russian in the first place? (Was he looking to travel? I mean that would make sense ---- the whole: ‘getting away from here’ outlook)

--------

HIGHLIGHT:

INT. HALLWAY - DAY

FELICITY sits on a bench. Her eyes telling us that she isn't really there.

BEN joins her. Also looking defeated.

Hey give each other a glance.

FELICITY (surprisingly upbeat) Hey.

BEN stares at the floor.

BEN Hey.

He turns to her.

BEN So...How's...uh...How's chemistry?

His eyes are smiling.

FELICITY Oh, it's...

She turns away.

FELICITY ...sort of a crisis.

BEN Really?

FELICITY Yeah, my teacher hates me, but, uh, I'm sure it's gonna be fine.

She throws him a small smile.

BEN Well, I'm sure, you know, that he or she doesn't---doesn't hate you.

FELICITY Yeah...he does...actually.

She chuckles.

A moment passes.

FELICITY So, how was acting?

BEN Acting? Well...um...acting's a bit of a disaster actually. Uh, I can't get out of the class, and so I'm---I'm about to go get an incomplete.

FELICITY What's the, uh...assignment?

BEN I have to---I have to bring in an object that's important to me.

She nods...slowly.

FELICITY So...What? Anything?

BEN Yeah, anything. I have to bring it in, I have to sit there, and I have to talk about it in front of everybody, which...

FELICITY God.

BEN Yeah. It's bad.

A beat.

FELICITY I don't know what I'd bring in.

She considers it.

FELICITY This neclace maybe.

She lifts the pendant and looks at it (or at least as much as you can look at a necklace that you're wearing).

FELICITY It was my grandmother's.

BEN Yeah, that wouldn't work for me.

She turns to him and realises what he's doing. A laugh escapes.

--------

My verdict of the episode: 7/10

Timestamp Commentary: None (One to be published only by request)

My Formal review about the show: None (Possibly there might be a ‘The Comedy In’ kind of post that I could publish in 'Comedy To Watch’)

--------

Index:

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another-stark-sub · 4 years

Text

Interruption - Tony Stark Imagine

Summary: You interrupt your fiance’s research, and Tony loves you for it. Natasha just had to call him in the middle of it all.

Warnings: no actual sex, more fluff than smut really, mentions of bondage, little bit of exhibitionism

Word Count: 2044

Being Tony’s fiancee came with weird moments. First off, he was the Iron Man, one of the legendary Avengers who saved the world, and sometimes the universe, on a weekly or monthly basis. So, you had your fair share of poisonous experiments locked in the house or random robots appearing. And you wish you were lying when you said one time you found a rock alien Tony forgot to tell you he was housing in the kitchen.

However, what was before you was still weird. Not superhero weird, just weird, and very out of character.

Your fiance had been holed up in the lab for more than many hours. You let the first ten hours slide, but when sunrise was approaching, you had decided it was time for some sleep.

And when you were at the lab’s doorway, you saw Tony talking to one of his suits. Not too weird. That was a common thing to see in the Stark household. But, what was odd was that Tony was on his knees, on one of the throw pillows that had gone missing months ago, and his hands were tied in an intricate knot.

“Ok, now pull that,” Tony instructed.

The suit pulled.

“Harder.”

It pulled Tony forward enough that if he moved a little bit, he’d definitely fall, face flat on the ground. Tony hummed and said, “Now, wipe the knot’s instructions from memory and try to untie it. Friday, time it, please.”

“Yes, boss.”

Baffled, you called out, “Tony?”

He turned to you and smiled. “Hey, honey. Just lemme get out of this, and I’ll be in bed soon.”

You scoffed. “You can’t kick me out of here, not when I’ve seen that.” You crossed your arms and sighed. “Uh, what is this, anyway?”

Tony opened his mouth just as Friday interrupted, “Twenty-three and a fourth.”

Tony inhaled through his teeth. “Ok, considering human error, twenty-eight, nine-ish seconds. Add it to the list, Friday. I’ll work on it later. Note that scissors might need to be used.”

You blinked a few times. “Would it be dumb of me to ask what you’re working on?”

His attention was back on you, and with a warm smile, he approached you and held your hands. “Never dumb.” He kissed your forehead and caressed your cheek before explaining, “I’ve been trying to see what knots we could use next time, but I don’t think I like any of the ones I’ve found.”

“Knots?” You laughed a little. “Like during sex, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“And what are you testing?” You didn’t really have a preference, honestly. You were just fond of bondage. Did Tony just prefer some ways to tie you up?

“Different things. Oh!” Tony let go of your hands and held them up above his head. “Friday, take a picture and record it under effects.”

“Done and filed away.”

“Thank you.”

You gasped and took his hands in yours again. Examining his wrists, yellow-ish purple bruises were already forming from the rope. “Your wrists.” You sighed. “Shouldn’t you be keeping these things safe, for superhero-ing and inventing? Not for BDSM trials?”

“Well, I need to make sure it doesn’t cause you too much pain.”

Just like that, your heart swelled. “You’re testing different knots for, well, for me?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Gotta make sure that my girl’s gonna be ok when I fuck her senseless, right?” With a swipe of his hand, the other still holding yours, a hologram popped up in front of you two. It resembled an excel spreadsheet. A name, a picture of the knot, description, time to tie, time to untie, both adjusted for human error, a picture of Tony’s various bruises from it. “See, I need to make sure I can tie it, that I can untie it if we don’t like it, see how much it hurts you or not.”

He kept babbling on, saying how it was important for him to know how it feels and to make sure you were safe, but you only heard part of it. You heard enough of it, because damn, your fiance was never more sexy in your eyes. And not only was he doing this for your safety and pleasure, but he was also doing it because your safety made him happy.

How were you so lucky? A wonderful man, a genius, a hero was your fiance. He shared your kinks, respected the rules you two agreed upon, and went out of his way to make sure that the things that restrained you in the bedroom were things that wouldn’t hurt you when you didn’t want it to.

So, in the middle of his rant, something about the technicalities of it all, you grabbed his face and kissed him.

Tony pulled away from you, his forehead still resting on yours. “Not that I’m objecting, but what?”

You laughed. “Cause you’re too good for me, and I think” -you bit your lip- “you deserve some sort of gift for that.” Before he could object or argue or say you were too good for him, you pulled him closer to you and kissed him, softer and sweeter, and when his hands finally held your hips, you hummed and asked, “Bedroom?” Plus, after some laborious exercise, he might sleep at a semi-appropriate hour.

“What’s wrong with here, sweetheart?” He mumbled against your lips. He kissed you again, his hands roaming down to squeeze your ass before lifting you up and wrapping your thighs around his waist.

Just as he set you down on one of the lab tables, Friday’s voice pierced the air, “Ms. Romanoff is-”

“Put her on hold,” he told him. Tony moved to kiss your neck, and you moaned. You tangled your fingers in his hair, already drowning in the feeling of his lips on your skin and his body between your legs.

“She insists that it’s urgent.”

Tony didn’t say anything. He just smiled at you and kissed you.

Natasha was calling him, insisting it was urgent. It must’ve been important. “Tony,” you mumbled.

“Yeah?” He went back to litter kisses on your neck and collarbone. Your button-up shirt was already being undone, and the part of you wanted to push him away so he could take that call was silenced. His lips were insistent and that nonchalant attitude was intoxicating. Plus there was a heat building in you, and if you stopped now you’d be dissatisfied. You didn’t want that.

“Ms. Romanoff says she has Vision with her, and she will disable me if you don’t patch her through.”

Tony paused. He gazed up at you, in awe of how flushed you were just from a few of his kisses.

You had to blink a few times, too focused on Tony’s chest moving up and down, so out of breath from kissing you and touching you. His hair was messy from your tugging and gripping, a few strands falling onto his forehead. Subtly, his hips went from lightly touching you to pressing up against you.

Shaking your head and closing your eyes, you said, “Take the call.” You took a deep breath and reached for your shirt, but Tony stopped you. He smiled and leaned in close before pressing a kiss against your lips. “Stay.”

“Tony-”

He shook his head. “Stay.” He kissed you again and continued to unbutton your shirt until it was all undone. “Friday,” he said between kisses, “patch her through, videochat.”

Shocked, you pushed him away from you, just enough so his lips weren’t sealed against yours. “Tony, what-”

He silenced you with another kiss. His hand went to your thigh, caressing it and hooking it around his waist so he could grind his hard-on into you.

“Tony.” Natasha’s voice came through, void of any emotion.

Tony pulled away from you. With a smile, he swiped thumb past your bottom lip, admiring how swollen they were.

You heard Natasha’s voice, you did, but with Tony in front of you with that damn smirk of his and his thumb gently grazing over your lip, you had no intention of listening to her. It was too hard to listen to her. Too drunk on him and his touch and too tired of holding yourself back, once his touch left your lips, you surged forward, aiming for a kiss.

Tony gave him, kissing you once before telling his teammate, “A bit busy here, Red.” Your fiance pressed his lips against yours and moaned loudly. Whether it was because he was that pleased by you or because he wanted to piss Natasha off, you didn’t care. You just pulled him closer, desperate to keep kissing him.

“You need to come in. We’re in need of your expertise, and Shuri’s out on another assignment.”

“Banner,” Tony mumbled against you.

“Off planet.”

As he moved to kiss your neck again, he said, “Kid’s smart.”

“On vacation.”

“Keener.” Finally, his hand came up to squeeze your tits over your bra.

“Tony!” you moaned.

Natasha rolled her eyes. It wasn’t the first time she had to witness the two of you like this. “Harley’s currently taking a three-hour exam.”

He growled. More frustrated at his fellow geniuses than you. Because, god, you looked divine. He pulled your bra down and latched his lips onto your nipple and sucked.

You threw your head back, trying to catch your breath, and whined.

“Tony, you think I’d interrupt the two of you if it wasn’t important? Riri and Shuri and both out on missions, and Vision hasn’t been able to do it.” Natasha groaned. Her eye twitched, and she pulled a card she rarely pulled. “So, has your fiancee seen the previous versions of her ring yet?”

You squinted at the screen, half your attention still on the pleasure Tony was giving you. “What, ah, previous versions?” You smiled, dazed.

Tony groaned against your chest. “Baby,” he whined. He nipped at your nipple, and although he got a gasp from you, you still were thinking about your ring. The one he proposed with was your dream, not too gaudy, not too simple either, and crafted and designed by Tony, but there were previous versions?

You smiled at Tony and, even though you still craved his touch and the heat of his love, your daydreams of Tony working his ass off to build a perfect ring turned to reason, and reason won out. With a soft giggle, you reached out for your fiance. The poor thing had rested his chin on your chest, pouting.

“You’ve got a job, Tone.”

“So?”

You buttoned up your shirt.

“What? No, please,” he whined, reaching for your hands.

You slapped him away and finished the last button. “Don’t worry.” You jumped off the lab table and kissed his cheek. “We will resume later. I need to thank you for being so good to me after all.” You nodded to the suit in the corner. “Go.”

Tony sighed. He readjusted his pants and kissed you quickly. “Love you.” He turned to the monitor. “Hate you.” And just like that, he was suiting up.

Natasha laughed. “Ah, my life’s complete. Sending you coordinates.”

“Will do.” He stopped his mask from covering his face to say to you, “Wait for me?”

“No promises.”

He smiled. “Good.” With a wink, his mask came on, the exit from the lab to the outside opened, and he was off.

You turned to the monitor and crossed your arms. “I expect to see whatever previous designs he showed you.”

“Will do.” The agent sighed. “Would it be too much to ask to have you two act professionally sometimes?”

You shrugged. “Me, not much at all.” You laughed. “It’s Tony you gotta convince.”

Natasha tilted her head. “I’m pretty sure you’d be hard to convince, too.”

You shrugged. “What can I say? I am Tony’s girl after all.” You flashed her a smile before hanging up. With a thoughtful hum, you said, “Friday, send a message to Tony for me, please. Tell him” -that familiar heat you ignored was steadily coming back- “that I’m starting without him.”

“He wouldn’t like that.”

You were practically bounding up the stairs to your bedroom, some toys you could use already in mind. “Planning on it.”

“Ah, I see. Message sent.”

“Thank you, Friday!”

639 notes · View notes

tanglebond-tales · 3 years

Text

Wake Up, Lupin (pt. 1)

Most days, it doesn't matter what time Lupin casts the spell.

But today is Thursday, and therefore, it matters.

Ding a ling a ling, says the first alarm. Ugh. That means it's 6 o'clock. Two hours til work, one hour til portal time.

Lupin goes back to sleep.

Bing bong, says the second alarm. Ugh. Six thirty.

Wake up, Lupin. Now. Says the third alarm. Okay, the first two didn't actually SAY what they said, it was onomatopaiea. Sounds that they made translated into words. But this one actually talks.

"Uh. Portal day."

The alarm clock does not respond. It only knows how to say that one thing, repeatedly, in its tinny little voice.

"Wake up, Lupin. Now."

"Fine! Ugh. Fine. Okay. Get up, Lupin." She rolls out of bed. At least it's warm.

---

"Ugh. Why is it always so warm here."

Lupin draws the final stroke of chalk to complete the circle, and before she can even look up, there is a flash of light.

"Hello, Lupin. It's been a while."

"It's been a week." Her handler's enthusiasm at this time of morning was routinely offensive.

He steps forward out of the teleportation circle, places the supply chest on the sideboard, and makes a show of brushing the dust of the conjuring chalk from his otherwise immaculate coat. "It has! I do hope things are going well with you."

Lupin yawns and stretches. "Not bad. Work is fine. Y'know, hammering steel. Over and over."

"But you are getting plenty of practise with those elementals."

"Well, yeah, it's what I do like literally all day, so yes."

"I am glad. I take it they are co-operative."

Portal successfully cast on time, Lupin has retreated to the kitchen. She is making toast. "They're okay. I mean, some more than others, some of them are rude. Some of them are lazy. But most of them are nice. And some of them are really funny."

"I actually kind of envy you. The air realm boundary here is so thin. You're really getting the best of it. It's a wonderful assignment."

"Rui, I've been here for a year. It's getting pretty boring. And why do you always have to visit so early?"

Ruiprouice Frouce sighed. "I know. It is a long time. But we all do it. And, as you know I have a lot of people to visit. This is how I like to start my Thursdays."

She cracks some eggs into the pan and smiles at him over her shoulder. "You're sweet.” From nowhere, a wooden stirrer coalesces in her hand and she prods at the sizzling eggs. “Okay, look, I know. Rite of passage as a conjurer, blah blah. I get that, and I'm grateful for the chance. But, Pelor, am I ever ready to move on."

"Yes, Lupin." Closest thing Lupin ever had to an uncle, but he never used her nicknames. "Just one more week."

Lupin sighed. "Yes. Just one more week. Have you had breakfast?"

---

Felton Blacksand sighed, stroking his long beard and looking at the chrono dial. "Where, oh where, is Lupin."

"I'm here!" hollered Lupin, her attempt at sneaking into the office foiled by her big mouth and scrabbling feet. "I'm sorry."

"It's Thursday, already?"

"Sure is! So, what needs doing?" she inquires as she catches her breath, coils up her two long braids, and stuffs them into her beret.

Felton sighed. Not that he'd been paying close attention, but he knew the year was almost up. When he'd gotten the letter from the conjurers’ guild - sorry, the Guild of Conjurers and Summoners - he hadn't expected much, a bookish nerd maybe? Certainly not someone so talented in the trade as well as the craft. The thought of Lupin moving on was heavy on his mind.

"Crew two is on the Hammer, so they'll probably need you to help get them started. Third crew is in the mines, so Pelor willing they won't need much attention, but crew four is on the mechanisms so they'll definitely need your support. And crew five is,” he consults his clipboard, “smelting, so they may need some fires put out."

"Put out? Come on." She shimmies indignantly into her company-issue grease-spattered overalls. Frowning as she spots a couple of small tears, she jabs at them with a finger and they mend instantly.

"Loops. We're training your replacements. Give them some space to make mistakes."

Lupin was losing track of the number of sighs today. Plus one. "Can I at least stoke some fire tomorrow?"

"Sure, as long as they learn a lot today."

Lupin rolled her eyes. "Thanks, I guess."

"Crew one is on bucket detail, so keep an ear on them. They're not exactly fast."

"True, that. Anything else? Roll on end of shift, right?"

"Roll on. Don't forget to eat lunch."

"Thanks, boss." Lupin left.

---

It hadn't been an eventful shift. The air elementals had been compliant, mostly, but she'd had to talk down to a fairly large firey, and he almost didn't accept her bluster. She knew the protocol for that situation - contain with a magic circle, call for the water squad - but she was proud of the fact that she hadn't had to do that in a bit over six months. She could usually get them to listen to reason, which helped a lot since her physical stature would hardly be described as intimidating. Not that she didn’t have a few other tricks up her sleeve if it really came down to it.

Anyway. The shift was over, and Lupin was heading home. The viewing platform was on the way - about the closest thing this charming hamlet had to a tourist attraction - and hey, the Hammer in action was always a sight to see after walking up that big darn hill on her short gnome legs, so Lupin often stopped there.

Today was different, though. It was Wednesday; nearly a week had passed since Rui's last visit, and tomorrow was the big day. It was tradition in the guild to time the final day of casting with a visit, do a bit of a ceremony and whatnot, and that was tomorrow.

But more immediately, today there were some actual tourists.

A bunch of weirdoes, actually, thought Lupin as she approached the platform. In a good way, an interesting way, and certainly something she hadn't seen in a while. An elf lady with a fancy-looking bow strapped to her back. A tall human man with rippling muscles and a giant sword. A robed monk, a little girl, a birdman. A lizardy guy. Lizardy? No, more dragon-y. And a peculiar boy, not so much taller than Lupin, humanish but for the pointy, swept-back horns atop his head. Lupin somehow has an impulse to just run forward and hug him.

She suppressed it, barely, and instead sidled up to the group just as the dragony man was leaving. Adventurers? What were they doing here? "Hi! I'm Lupin!" She thrust her hand out in the vague direction of the boy with the horns.

---

It seemed like the boy with the horns had a lot on his mind, but that was okay, because Lupin loved talking about her work, and had been doing so incessantly. "And then, right? We put the molten slug on the anvil. And then, the hammer smashes it flat! So flat. Keeping that hammer working is basically my day job. You know, just the other day..."

Fancy bow lady interrupts her. "So, you work here, then?"

Lupin stops. Was that sarcasm? She wasn't used to that, around here.

"Yes, I do! So where are you guys from?" Funny how the fatigue of a whole shift in the steelworks could be erased with a little bit of chitchat.

---

It turned out they were new in town, just passing through really, and looking for somewhere to eat, drink and sleep. Lupin knew just the place - and what a coincidence, was going that way. Even if she weren't, she would have said she was. She'd learned some names, including the horn-headed fella, Russell. Walking next to him, she felt like he was in need of some cheering up.

"Hey, do you like animals?"

Russell immediately perks up. "Yes! I love animals."

"Oh, well." Lupin clasps her hands together, and then opens them a crack. A tiny nose peeks out, whiskers twitching as it samples the air, followed by the face and long body of a silky white ermine, which scurries up Lupin's arm and perches on her shoulder, looking intently at Russell.

"Russell, this is Snickers."

Russell is agog. "What.. how.. did you just.. summon that?"

"Her. And yes. Well, no. Well, she's always around, just not always in material form. I think she likes you."

Lupin bumps her shoulder into Russell's and Snickers scuttles across, disappearing up Russell's sleeve and, a moment later, poking her fuzzy face out of the neck of his armour.

Russell's excited grin has turned into barely contained paroxysms of laughter. "That.. tickles!!", he exclaims between gasps of air. "Oh yes indeed," says Lupin, "this is definitely her tickliest form. Sometimes she's a cat, sometimes a rat, we didn't really like her as a snake, but birds are a lot of fun. Though, not as cuddly."

Snickers has wriggled free of Russell's armour and parked herself on his shoulder, busying herself with nuzzling him incessantly. Accordingly, Russell has regained the power of speech. "She can change forms?”, he asks, returning the affection. “Like, whenever?"

"Oh, well it takes a little bit of doing. We have to cast a spell for it, which needs some fancy ingredients, so it's a bit of a special occasion when we do, you know?"

Russell is impressed. "That is so, so cool."

Lupin blushes a little. Finding a familiar is among the most basic of basic conjuration, but it’s nice that he's impressed. And it’s nice to be chatting to someone who doesn’t tower over her. "You think that's cool? You should see what I do for a living." She starts into telling him all about a day in the life of an elemental wrangler as they walk on.

---

"So, this guild has had you living here for a year, casting the same spell every day, over and over, to - set up a portal?"

Sitting around an assortment of tables, the adventurers are exercising their elbow muscles hefting tankards of excellent ale. Blacksand's Brewery is crowded, as always after the end of a shift at the 'works, with dwarves, gnomes, and humans, far too many of whom Lupin knows by name. The elder of the Blacksand brothers, Beren, tends bar, and waitstaff sashay busily amongst the tables.

"Yep, that's right. It'll facilitate travel and trade and blah blah blah. And it'll mean I've concluded this stage of my service to the Guild, so I'll be presented with a shiny new badge and make a bunch of people real proud, but best of all, I won't have to stay in this boring excuse for a town anymore."

"Oh come on, it's not so bad. This place is nice. And the hammer is really cool!"

"Yeah, so cool! So much going on here! And I get to hear the clanging all day every day from up close AND far away!" Lupin is thrilled to be using sarcasm again. She makes a show of counting on her fingers. "You've seen the Hammer, you're eating at Blacksand's, and you've met me. I think that about covers the highlights of the Praak experience."

She pauses to sip her ale. "I will not miss this place. I will miss some of the people, though." She looks around at the interior of the Brewery. "And, well, I might miss this place. But Praak generally? I don't think so. I don't exactly have a plan yet, but I'm sure looking out for an excuse to leave." A smiling waitress deposits several plates of delicious-smelling food on the table, and Lupin nods in acknowledgement, suddenly feeling a twinge of guilt for badmouthing the small town. She picks up the smallest plate, containing a boiled egg and small cubes of various cheeses, and sets it to one side. Snickers goes straight for it and gets to nibbling.

"But you have to finish this portal first, right?"

"Oh, yes, well, that's happening tomorrow."

Russell's eyebrows raise precipitously.

"Tomorrow! And you said there's going to be a ceremony?" Had she said that? She wasn't sure, but the thoughtful look on Russell's face stilled her tongue. "Do you know anyone who could transport someone between planes? That's a conjurer thing, right?"

Lupin hesitates, unsure of what is happening. "Well - that's something I'm studying towards, but yes, I suppose I do know some people. And yes," she anticipates his next question, "it is possible some of them might be here tomorrow."

"Huh," says Russell, his eyebrows returning to their typical stance as he grabs a chicken leg and leans back in his chair. "Gaalin will want to meet you."

"Who's Gaalin?", says Lupin.

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backtobackbakubabe · 4 years

Text

Baby its Cold Outside (PART 8)

Bakugo x Reader

Push it, Push it! To the Limit, Limit. Now we’re in it to win it!

Words: 2509

PART 1 HERE, PART 2 HERE, PART 3 HERE PART 4 HERE PART 5 HERE , PART 6 HERE PART 7 HERE PART 8 HERE PART 9 HERE PART 10 HERE PART 11 HERE PART 12 HERE PART 13 HERE PART 14 HERE

*****************************************************************************************************

Okay today is the day. It’s been three months since the accident and you were eager to get back in the saddle. Sure you still had the occasional jump scare, but it was manageable.

Technically you were on call for back up duty. Which means a couple days a week you go hang out at the agency and wait to see if anyone needs backup. Sure it’s not glamorous but its a step in the right direction.

The best part about getting to hang out at the agency all day was you were assigned a personal trainer that was ready to work with you whenever you wanted to. And you definitely wanted to.

You didn't waste any time going up to the front desk of the state of the art training facility in the basement level of your agency. You used to come here with Bakugo when you first started working together. But you never got to utilize the trainer because he insisted that no extra could possibly teach him something he didn't already know. You almost felt like you were cheating on him.

Your trainer’s name was Dylan. She was a small petite women who specialized in quirk training. She was an expert in taking someones quirk and helping them find new ways to use it or helping them make it stronger. And that’s exactly what you wanted to do. You wanted her to help you figure out how the hell you teleported 15 miles.

You would be lying if you said you weren't nervous. All the stories you've heard made her seem pretty intense. But then you remember who you were dating and there’s no way she could be worse than that. Hopefully.

You saw her across the training facility over by an obstacle course, it looked like she was reading a file. Probably your file. You wondered what was in there. Was it good stuff? Did it mention you were shot? Was she already judging you based off a few pieces of paper? Get it together Y/n you’ll be fine.

You couldn't help but notice her stern posture and long black hair that hung in a perfectly in place pony tail. You gulped and wiped your now sweaty hands on your training pants. Good thing you don’t have Bakugo’s quirk, you may have set off an explosion by now.

“Hi I’m Y/n! It’s very nice to meet you. I’m really excited to get to work with you. I’ve heard you’re the bes-”

Dylan’s eyes snapped to yours and you felt a chill go down your spine. Yeah intense is probably the best way to describe her. She didn't say anything just held eye contact for a few seconds before squinting and cocking her head as if she was trying to understand a abstract painting, “Interesting.”

You almost flinched at how sweet her voice sounded. A stark contrast to the heavy glare in her eyes. She hadn't even blinked yet. “Uh... is something wrong?”

Her shook her head as if trying wake herself up and blinked rapidly, “Oh no sorry about that I was just assessing your quirk. You see my quirk allows me to see the limits to others ability as long as I can maintain eye contact. So I can see how far they can go, their greatest strengths, their weaknesses, their potential. It’s what allows me to be a great trainer. I always know what needs to be worked on and how far I can push my heros.”

Your jaw dropped, “That’s a super impressive quirk! Why aren't you a hero? It would be amazing to know all the villains weakness just by looking at them.”

She just laughed, “Oh no! I’d just be a liability in the field. I’m tiny and not very strong. Besides it only works as long as I maintain eye contact, and I don't know many villains who willingly just stare into heros eyes.” She just shrugged as if this were old news. She must have to explain it to everyone. She threw your file over in the direction of a nearby bench, “Now we've wasted enough time let’s get started shall well? I want you to start by getting through this obstacle course but only by teleporting.”

You bit your lip, “Uh I don't know if I can. I have to be able to visualize where I’m going. There’s too many things blocking my view...”

Dylan gave you a bored look, “You think I don't know that? Much like everything else in this course its just another obstacle for you to overcome. Now you only have me for two hours. Lets make it count.”

And thats how you ended up going home that night covered in bruises from running into things. But as sore as you were you were also excited. Dylan had been right. The harder you pushed yourself the easier it got. By the end of your session you had managed to teleport past two obstacles perfectly fine. You were over the moon but Dylan still looked bored. “Good, now tomorrow we’ll do it again but I’ll have cementoss change the set up and I’ll blindfold you.” And like that she was off to her next client, her ponytail swaying like a pendulum. She was either going to be the death of you or the best teacher you ever had. Only time will tell.

You were snuggled up with Zuko watching tv when Bakugo came home. He looked exhausted. He dragged his feet all the way to the couch, “Oi Zuko.. get down it’s my turn. You know the drill.”

Bakugo had spent a lot of time training Zuko and you could tell that although Zuko loved you more, he definitely respected Katsuki as the alpha. He hopped off the couch leaving room for Katsuki to plop down on top of you.

You groaned in protest because you were still super sore from training. But he was already half asleep meaning his day must have been really hard. So instead of scolding him you just ran your fingers through his hair while he snuggled in to you, his head using your boobs as a pillow. He was so adorable like this.

You stayed like that for a an hour or so until your stomach started to rumble with hunger. Apparently it was loud enough for your boyfriend to hear because he started to stir, “I swear sometimes I don't know who I have to take care of more... Zuko or you.” He slowly sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “What do you want for dinner?”

It was only then that he really looked at you since coming home, “Oi... what happened to you? I thought you were on call today? Did you get pulled to duty?” You could see the concern in is his eyes, “It was your first fucking day back and you’re covered in bruises.”

You rubbed your thumb between his pinched eyebrows, “No I didn't get pulled, but I did some training with my new trainer Dylan. I was trying to learn how to teleport to places I cant see. So naturally I ended up running into a lot of stuff.”

“.... Dylan? Who the fuck is Dylan?”

“Yes Dylan. And before you get yourself all worked up, Dylan is a girl and she is awesome.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, “How awesome can she be if you end up covered in bruises?”

“Her methods might be harsh but they work. Within our two hour session I was able to do something I’ve never been able to do before. I teleported somewhere I couldn't see and had never seen before! She said our quirks are like muscles, they only work in ways that we practice using them. If we don't exercise them in other ways then we won't ever reach our full potential.”

He scoffed, “Sounds like a load of horse shit to me. Every quirk has its limits.”

“True but her quirk actually allows her to see those limits. So she always knows exactly what buttons to push to help you maximize your abilities.”

He was in the kitchen now already bored with the conversation, “Well have fun with that. Just please don’t push yourself too hard alright? And don't forget who your favorite trainer is either!”

You sighed at your jealous boyfriend, “No need to be jealous Katsu, you’ll always be my number one. Even if you did catch my hair on fire our second year at UA.”

His laugh echoed through the apartment, “It’s not my fault you tried to sneak up on me.You’re lucky it was just your hair!”

The next day you practically skipped on the way to training. Excited to push the limits once again. True to her word Dylan blindfolded you and would walk around the obstacle corse and yell. Your job was to listen and try to teleport to her based on hearing alone. It was so difficult. You were soaked with sweat and exhausted but she wasn't done with you. She kept pushing and pushing. You felt like a rubber band about to snap. By then end, it was easier but not by much. It was something that was likely going to take a while to master. But hey just two days ago you didn’t even know it was possible, so small victories.

You worked on it again the next day and every day after. It became almost like a warm up, then you would move on to other things. Today you were trying to teleport objects without going with it, which proved to be the most mentally challenging thing you had tried yet. It took immense focus and even then the best you had done was teleport a marble from your hand to Dylans hand when she was standing about three feet away. It left you dizzy and with a nasty headache. Your eyeballs felt like they were about to pop out of their sockets and your shoulders were so sore from you tensing up so hard.

“Will this ever get any easier? My head is killing me...”

Dylan handed you a water bottle, “Of course it will. Everything does with enough practice. It may not be today, tomorrow, or next week. But it’ll come as long as you keep up with it.” She took a sip of her own water bottle, “I’ll tell you, you are probably one of the most motivated clients I’ve ever had. I can see it in your body language. You’re determined to get better.”

You gave a soft laugh, “Yeah well that’s because for the last five and a half years I’ve had Ground Zero kicking my ass and he doesn't except excuses. You either give it 110 percent or you get the fuck out.”

Her eyes widened, “Pshhhh and people say I’m intense. I’ve met Ground Zero a time or two. He’s got a mouth on him and attitude to match... but he’s a great hero and from what I hear he’s actually a pretty decent guy.”

You blushed as you smiled into your water bottle, “Yeah he’s the best once you really get to know him. It might take a few years but he’s definitely the kind of guy you want in your corner when shit goes down.”

She gave you a knowing smile, “You two are lucky to have each other. You know usually I don’t do this kind of thing but between you and I, you’re my favorite client and Ground Zero is kind of my kid’s favorite hero... so what do you say you guys come over for dinner sometime?”

You tried to hide your surprise at the fact she had a child, “Oh that sounds excellent! We definitely will!”

That night you decided to take a bath to soak your sore muscles. You had your eyes closed and were listening very intently to all the noises around you. Trying to map where these sounds might be coming from like Dylan taught you. The water was still hot when you heard Katsuki come in and quietly close the door behind him. You didn't open your eyes but your smile gave you away. You heard his clothes hitting the floor and him step up to the tub, “Scoot forward a bit will ya? Make room for me.”

You chuckled as you did what he asked, “Since when do you like baths?”

“Since I walked in and saw my incredibly hot girlfriend taking one.”

He started to rub your tense shoulders and you couldn't help but moan in response. “Well as long as you promise to do that you won't hear me complaining.”

He kissed the side of you neck, “Is that all you want me to do?” You could almost hear the smirk in his voice, “All those workouts you’ve been doing have you all tense.” His voice dropped to the delicious bedroom voice he only reserves for you, “Lets see what I can do to help.”

His hands moved from your shoulders to your chest, massaging lightly the area above your breasts. His thumbs continued to rub small circles into your neck and it felt heavenly.

You slowly eased into his touch, letting your head rest on on his shoulder. You just closed your eyes and hummed in contentment. You loved simple moments like these.

His hands traveled down your arms and rubbed the sore muscles there, before returning his hands to your hair and started to massage your scalp. “mmmm your truly are the best boyfriend ever.”

You could feel his dick start to get hard as it pushed into your back. “What have I said about making noises like that? You know what it does to me.” His hands traveled back to your chest except this time it was to grope your breasts. He nibbled your ear as he started rolling your nipples between his expert fingers. You arched your back pushing your breasts into his hands. Desperate for his touch. “Oh baby girl, you look so beautiful. How did I ever get so lucky?”

One of his hands stayed on your breast while the other trailed south until it found the area truly craving his attention. Without any hesitation he pushed a finger into you, quickly followed by another. It was sweet, and slow, and it was driving you insane.

You squirmed beneath him trying to get more friction. “Always so impatient aren't you baby?”

You huffed, “I’d say I’m more than patient considering I had to wait over five years for you to make a move. And even then I believe I was the one who kissed you.”

You knew that would get a rise out of him in more ways than one, and you were not disappointed. He pulled his fingers out and with firm hands pushed you up. “Turn around and get in my lap.”

Your eyes lit up with excitement. His hand coming down with a hard smack on your ass as you briefly waved it in his face as you turned around. His hands found your waist as soon as you were straddling his lap and pushed you into his erection. “That’s right. I had to wait over five years. I had to watch as guys drooled after you. I had to sit behind you in class every day and listen to your goofy laugh. I listened to you complain about all the assholes you ever went on dates with. I watched and I waited until the perfect time...”

He thrust himself into you, “And baby, I’d do it all again if it meant we’d end up right here, right now.”

Your nails dug into his shoulder. The water started sloshing around as his thrusts became more intense and sloppy. He latched on to your neck sucking hard. It was definitely going to leave a mark and you would try to remember to scold him for it later. But right now you were too blissed out.

You were grinding into him to meet his thrusts. You really were making a mess now but you didn't care.

It wasn't long before you felt that familiar coil in you start to tighten, ready to burst any second. He pulled you into a tight hug, lifted his hips and really pounded into you. You felt your walls flutter and your vision blurred as you came for what felt like forever.

Katsuki gave you a couple more sloppy thrusts before he emptied himself inside of you.

You were both laying there panting, your head on his shoulder, his hands rubbing softly up and down your back, “So what do you say? Was I worth the wait?”

His hand froze, “What kind of dumb ass question is that?”

You giggled as you sat up and pulled the drain from the tub letting what was left of the water drain out.

He was handing you a towel when an idea came to you.

“Oh babe I want to show you something!”

“Huh? What are talking about?”

You grabbed a sleep mask out from a bathroom drawer and walked back to him. He smirked, “Oh kinky...”

You rolled your eyed and gave his chest a smack. “Oh stop it I’m serious watch this!” You put the mask over your eyes, “Okay now I want you to go hide somewhere in the apartment and when you’re ready whisper my name.”

He gave you a bored look but because he’s a good boyfriend he would go along with your shenanigans.

Not long after you heard him whisper your name, you focused really hard and *Pop* you teleported right into him knocking him over.

“What the? How did you? THATS AWESOME!”

And that’s how you ended up playing the most intense game of naked marco polo ever.... like the two adults that you are.

#bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugō #bakugo imagine #bhna #bhna bakugou #bhna imagine #bhna x reader #mha bakugou #mha #mha imagines #mha x reader #my hero academia

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kiminicricket · 4 years

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Swords and Opals - 15

A Ruthari fic based pre-show. adventure. friendship. bad-assery. fluff. angst. romance. and of course, Ruthari. What else could you need?

Need to catch up? From the Start Previous Chapter

Pre-warning for a little bit of Language and a little bit of kissy kissy

The shadowed figure in the doorway stalked towards him, Ethari took a step backwards, the back of his legs hitting his workbench. He was trapped. He glanced around, but the only doors in and out of the workshop were behind the figure. He took a deep breath, readying himself to scream or yell or cause a ruckus but stopped dead still when the figure’s face came into view from the dim glow from the forge. It was Runaan and he had a most determined look on his face. Ethari faltered in his movements, but Runaan kept moving until he was right in front of him, that piercing gaze holding Ethari captive.

“Did you mean it?” He asked, almost growled.

“Mean what?” Ethari asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Runaan’s hand came up to cup Ethari’s cheek, fingers gently tracing along his tattoos.

“Is there more where that came from? I made it back.” His eyebrow raised, almost cockily as he smiled at Ethari.

Ethari could barely hold a coherent thought let alone speak right now, with Runaan’s fingertips tracing his skin so gently. He just nodded and closed his eyes as Runaan surged forward and kissed him hungrily. It was everything Ethari had hoped for and his arms came up to grasp Runaan tighter as he returned the kiss, grasping fistfuls of tunic, never wanting to let him go again.

Runaan seemed to mirror the sentiment as his other hand came up until he was cradling Ethari’s face in his hands, thumbs gently tracing along his cheekbones, fingers tangling at the edges of his hair. One hand moved to cup the back of his head, the other wrapped around him, drawing him impossibly closer, fingertips grazing just under Ethari’s top and leaving trails of burning sensations anywhere skin met skin. Ethari was lost in Runaan. He never wanted to return to reality, wanting to live forever drinking from Runaan’s lips, breathing in his presence.

A single lingering concern broke through the haze and Ethari pulled back, gasping for air. Runaan’s lips simply moved from his own to his chin, his jaw, his neck. Ethari’s hand went to the back of Runaan’s head, cradling it as he struggled for a moment of rational thought.

“The others?” He managed to breath out.

“Safe and sound.” Runaan said into his neck. He kissed Ethari again and Ethari melted against him, all thought leaving him except the elf kissing him.

***

“I’ll have you know that your little stunt drove me crazy.” Runaan said hours later as they lay comfortably together.

“Crazy good I hope.” Ethari said, playing with a strand of Runaan’s hair.

Runaan leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. “Crazy crazy. I was hopeless on this mission. The team leader was so disappointed in me. All this buildup and I didn’t even kill anyone.”

“You didn’t?”

“Nope, too distracted by a certain elf.” Runaan gently tapped Ethari’s nose. “I couldn’t stop thinking about him.”

Ethari was quiet for a moment, letting that sink in. He absently traced the tattoos on Runaan’s shoulder until Runaan leaned up on one elbow.

“You went quiet.” He remarked.

“I guess I just don’t understand. I’m not complaining, at all, I just don’t understand.”

“I don’t even know if I can articulate it.” Runaan said.

Ethari nodded, staring up at the roof. He didn’t expect there to be a reason. Sometimes feelings were funny that way. It was enough that they had made it to this point. There was a moment of contented silence before Runaan spoke again.

“You saw me at my lowest, and you were kind, and dependable, and incredibly smart, and funny, and hot as hell.” Runaan leaned down and planted a kiss on Ethari’s shoulder.

Ethari turned shining eyes on Runaan. “I… don’t even know what to say.” He whispered.

“What about you?” Runaan asked.

“What about me?”

“What was… how… did you,” Ethari smiled as Runaan stumbled over his words. Seeing the smile Runaan huffed indignantly, motioning for Ethari to speak.

“I never thought someone like you would even notice me.” Ethari admitted, reaching out to cup Runaan’s face.

“Someone like me?” Runaan nuzzled into the touch.

“Talented, popular, smart, handsome, top on every elf’s wish list.”

Runaan let out a self-conscious chuckle, reaching up to take Ethari’s hand in his own.

“For a long time you didn’t I suppose.”

Runaan looked distressed. He opened his mouth as though to protest but Ethari kept talking.

“It’s fine, I’ve always kind of hung back, not wanted to be the centre of attention. I definitely noticed you, had a crush on you for the longest time, before I even knew you properly.” Ethari paused. “And then when I did, I guess I just saw through the mask. That’s when it really hit me I think.”

“The mask?” Runaan frowned.

“The ‘everything’s ok and I’ve got things figured out’ mask.”

The frown deepened. “You fell for me because I’m actually a disaster?” He clarified.

Ethari laughed. “I mean when you put it that way…”

Runaan leaned over him and smiled. “I think you should stop talking now.”

Ethari smiled back. “I think you should make me.”

Runaan didn’t bother replying and Ethari closed his eyes as Runaan’s lips met his once more.

***

Tiadrin and Lain were waiting for Runaan by the training fields. Lain sitting on a huge tree root with Tiadrin tucked between his legs. He was bent over her shoulder.

“See if you curl your fingers like this,” Lain’s hand curled Tiadrin’s fingers, and then straightened her thumb. “And then I do one too, and then we join them together like this,” he touched their fingertips together. “It makes a heart. See?”

“Uuuugh” Tiadrin let out a long groan, her head falling back against his chest. “You are such a hopeless fucking dork. I love you.”

Lain stiffened behind her, quickly turning her to face him. “You what?” He asked, searching her eyes.

Tiadrin blushed and tucked her hair behind her ear. She hadn’t meant to blurt that out, but now that she had, she wasn’t taking it back. She met Lain’s gaze, sure and steady. She shrugged.

“You heard me.” She said with a shy smile. Lain slid off the root and drew her closer.

“I’d like to hear it again,” He whispered, lips hovering over hers.

“I love you, you dork.” Tiadrin said, closing her eyes.

“I love you too.” His lips descended on hers, arms wrapping her in a tight embrace.

“Ahem.”

Runaan’s voice drew them apart and Lain shot him a dirty look over his shoulder as he released Tiadrin.

“Oh you finally ready for training,” he groused.

“Sorry, I uh- overslept.” Runaan shrugged.

“Oh. My. God!” A huge grin split Tiadrin’s face as she took in Runaan’s appearance. Very well put together but wearing the same tunic as the day before. And were his lips a bit pinker than usual?

Runaan frowned at her. “What?”

Tiadrin just smiled smugly. “Shall we go then?” She asked innocently.

“By all means,” Runaan indicated for her to lead the way.

They spent the morning running drills and exercises, sinking into the practiced familiarity of the movements. Movements that carried extra weight after their last assignment. Still they practiced until they could do the movements in their sleep. Until defence was second nature, and attacking quick as an asp was first. A few hours into the sparring Tiadrin whispered to Runaan.

“Someone’s got a visitor,” she winked and glanced towards the end of the field, where Ethari was watching them. “He’s not here to see me.” She said, grinning.

Runaan rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smile as he quickly and confidently took her down until she yielded. “Who knew having your boyfriend here would be so… motivating.” She grumbled, pushing his sword away from her.

Runaan said nothing, just swung again with the practice swords. She parried easily.

“What’s that? No denial?”

“Why would I deny it?”

Tiadrin’s shriek paused all training as every eye on the field turned towards her. She had flung her arms around Runaan, who had turned the colour of a moonberry and was awkwardly hugging her back.

Lain rushed over. “Is everything ok?” He asked, worriedly.

“Yes. fine.” Runaan said. Tiadrin dropped and turned to Lain, a brilliant smile on her face.

“Runaan has some most excellent news. ETHARI!” She turned and waved him over. Ethari cautiously made his way to them. Tiadrin, finally noting that she had drawn a crowd waved the onlookers away.

“As you were folks, nothing to see here.” Several raised eyebrows, smirks, and even chuckles were heard as the assassins returned to their sparring. Ethari reached them in short order.

“Nice of you to come watch us practice,” Tiadrin said meaningfully.

“Ha, yeah I hadn’t been in a while and I-”

“She knows we’re together,” Runaan said, interrupting him and taking his hand. Tiadrin couldn’t help an excited squeal as they interlocked their fingers. Ethari blushed and smiled, his whole face glowing with happiness.

“Finally!” Lain said, reaching out to hug them both.

Tiadrin hugged Ethari fiercely and reached out to punch Runaan in the shoulder.

“If you hurt him I will hunt you down and murder you in your sleep.”

“Tiadrin,” Ethari said, a warning tone in his voice. He had no doubts that she would, but didn’t really want that kind of tension in their group.

“No no, I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Runaan nodded to Tiadrin.

“It’s about bloody time.” She said. Runaan just raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean by that? How long have you known?” Runaan shot an accusatory look at Lain.

“She’s talking about me,” Ethari said, tugging on his hand and pulling Runaan’s glare away from Lain. Runaan softened.

“Oh, of course.”

“I mean, I was talking about both of you,” Tiadrin said, drawing Runaan’s attention once more. She shrugged off the cautioning hand Lain put on her shoulder. “It’s difficult to tell, but once you get to know that Runaan’s ‘I’m into him’ face is only very slightly different to his ‘I hate this’ face and figure out the difference, it was clear as day.”

Runaan turned red and scratched the back of his neck, seemingly uncomfortable with Tiadrin’s discerning eye.

“Well, we should give you two a minute. Not too long though Runaan or you’ll be running laps. You know how Usten gets.” With that Tiadrin and Lain walked away. They hadn’t gone too far before Tiadrin turned around and made an obscene gesture, throwing them an exaggerated wink before turning back and returning to sparring. Runaan and Ethari were left at the end of the training field. Runaan turned to face Ethari, shrugging helplessly.

“I know she means a lot to you, but if a terrible accident were to happen and she somehow lost the ability to-”

Ethari grinned and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek, stopping Runaan mid-sentence. He wasn’t worried about Runaan and Tiadrin fighting, because he knew that Runaan respected and valued Tiadrin, and also because even if things did get a little heated, Tiadrin was more than capable of handling herself. It was, however interesting and somewhat satisfying to see the calming effect a simple kiss had on Runaan. Ethari squeezed his hand gently before letting go.

“I should let you get back to it.” He said softly.

“I’ll see you tonight?” Runaan asked.

“Count on it.” Ethari said, smiling as Runaan leant in to give him a soft kiss. Then another. Then another.

Laughing, Ethari finally pushed him away. “Off with you and train.” He said. Runaan kissed him one more time and then jogged back onto the training field. Ethari settled on the edge of the field and pulled out his sketchbook. It was a glorious day after all, it would be a shame to waste it by staying inside.

AN: Thanks to all for taking this crazy ride with me! I’m about to start uni again for the semester so I’m going to have to leave this one here for now. I do have some more plot ideas but have no idea when I’ll be able to post, so I’m officially calling Hiatus for now. Definitely let me know if you want more though. Thanks to everyone who has liked, reblogged, and commented and encouraged this fic! Y’all turned it into what it is today.

Much Love xx

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years

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[ @sasuhinamonth || SasuHina Month 2019 || Day Twenty-Eight: Romeo and Juliet ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uzumaki Naruto ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

“So, Sasuke…”

“Hm?”

Lounging atop a half-wall outside their high school, Naruto bears an expression of confusion. One leg dangles, the other flat atop the wall as he folds an arm beneath his head. “You ever gonna tell me why you joined the theater club?”

“Do I need a reason?”

“Uh...well, I guess not. Just seems really...I dunno, random?”

Sasuke, seated by the blond’s head and skimming through a book, gives his friend a glance. “I needed an after school club this year for my college applications. Most were full, and that one didn’t seem to bad. I’ll probably just be doing some lights or something.”

“Aww…”

“...what?”

“I just thought it’d be great to see you up on stage is all!” Naruto replies with a foxy grin. “I’d pay to see that!”

Deadpanning, Sasuke swats his brow with his book, earning a squawk. “Yeah, you would. Admission isn’t free, dummy. But I highly doubt I’ll actually act. I’ve never even done it before. Pretty sure they’d want upperclassmen who have actually acted to do the acting.”

Rubbing his forehead with a pout, Naruto considers that. “Well...guess you’ll find out, huh? When’s your first practice?”

“Tomorrow.”

“You nervous?”

“...no?”

“Really? What if you get picked to act?”

“I dunno, I’ll just...roll with it. Can’t be much different than presentations for class, right? And I do fine with those.”

“But you won’t be you - you’ll be playing somebody else!”

“Then I’ll learn. That’s part of being in a club.”

“...well, okay.”

“What?”

“Just seems weird! I dunno, I don’t picture you as the acting type,” Naruto admits with a laugh.

“I mean, it wasn’t my first choice, but...you do what you’ve got to do.”

“Yeah, sure. When you figure out what your first play is, lemme know! I wanna come watch!”

“Sure. Just don’t expect much.”

“Dude, I’m gonna film the whole thing. It’ll be great.”

“...whatever you say.”

The next afternoon, once his last class lets out, Sasuke makes his way to the assigned club room. In truth, he has no idea what to expect. He knows little to nothing about the theater club...or theater in general. His mom goes and sees plays sometimes, but he’s never been to one, let alone been connected with one.

Within, a fair number of people have already gathered, chatting and waiting for the club advisor to arrive. A few look up as the door opens, some seemingly surprised to see him. Not that he blames them. Naruto was right. This isn’t exactly his scene. In truth, he does his best to stay out of the public eye when it comes to school stuff. His unwanted popularity can be such a pain…

But that’s part of why he chose this club out of all the others: almost no one he knows is really in it. Especially the girls that typically hound him. Sakura does sports all three seasons, and Ino works after school in her family’s shop when the weather’s good. In fact, the only person he knows anything about in this club is Hinata...the girl that’s crushed on his best friend for what seems like forever.

And to his surprise, she perks up as she notices him. “...oh! Sasuke!”

“Hey,” he greets, trying to sound nonchalant.

Hopping off the desk she’s perched on, she heads toward him, smiling. While she’s been a wallflower most of their school years, the last few have seen her blossom a bit. Her introversion has faded somewhat, hence - he assumes - why she’s so comfortable just approaching him now. They hardly ever talk, after all. “I’m surprised to see you here! Are you joining the club…?”

“Yeah, needed something to do after school. Thought I could do lights or something.”

“Oh, I see. Well…” She glances around. “I’ll warn you...there’s not many guys, so...you might get hassled about acting if we need more boys for roles. But you can still say no - we’ve had girls play guys, and the other way around when we need to.”

Sasuke blinks, following her gaze. She’s right...there’s hardly any male students at all. A small inkling of nerves bloom in his gut. He...really wasn’t expecting to have to act. “You sure?”

“Oh yeah - don’t worry about it. We’ll make due. No one has to do anything they aren’t comfortable with.” Hinata flashes another smile. “I’m sure miss Yūhi will be fine with it.”

“...okay.”

Speak of the devil, the woman walks in a moment later, calling for quiet and announcing their first of two plays. Apparently...they’re going to be doing Romeo and Juliet.

Most of the girls perk up, the guys groaning a bit. Sasuke just stands quietly, unsure what to think. It’s a story he remembers from freshman English, so he knows the gist of it.

Casting, apparently, will be held after they have some auditions in a few days. For now, they’ll just be doing some practice exercises to warm up, and introduce the newbies to the idea.

“Oh...I hope I get to be Juliet,” Hinata murmurs as Kurenai passes around copies of the playbook. “This is my last year, and I really want to do a lead…!”

Sasuke’s brows lift. He’d never have guessed that their freshman year. Hinata was so withdrawn, and her stutter had been rampant. But now...he’s yet to even notice it. “I bet you will. You’re a senior, and you’ve been in the theater club all four years, right?”

“I have…”

“Then you’ll be fine.”

Her expression tinges nervous, still smiling. “I hope so...I have to wonder who will play Romeo! Most of the guys here are a bit new…”

“Guess we’ll have to wait for auditions, huh?”

“Guess we will!”

.oOo.

I know this is kinda...short and not very fleshed out, BUT SHM entries I'm trying to keep shorter so I don't burn out. My bad if it's a little underwhelming, but I tried :'D Anyway, some theater club AU cuz those are fun. I did theater myself for two years in high school, so at least it's something I know a bit about xD Sasuke, my dude...you know you're gonna end up being Romeo. Just accept it. Buuut on that note, I'm gonna try to get my daily done. I don't wanna be late two days in a row, but today ended up busier than I wanted Dx So we'll see. Either way though, thanks for reading!

#sasuhina #sasuhinamonth #sasuhinamonth2019 #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #uzumaki naruto #best years of your life [ au ]

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